#I miss it but fell off for whatever reason

[scudevils]

baby, it’s cold outside — JB9

pairing: joe burrow x fem!reader

warnings: smut, morning breath doesn’t exist, established relationship, pwp, swearing, not proofread!!

inspired by: “baby it’s cold outside” by dean martin [2.3k]

a/n: ew i hate the ending okay i can never write them 😔😔

joe would never deny his hatred of the cold, from playing in it to simply just feeling it, he hated the way it nipped at his skin, leaving his hands red and sore, the way his face flushed. you, however, found it adorable, when he flashed up on the big screen and his cheeks had turned a pretty pink, the tip of his nose starting to look like rudolph.

a winter storm had sure set in for the night, your bedroom window frosted over as the pale morning sun reflected off of the snow outside, glistening like shining jewels across the grass, although you knew it’d be a pain to clean off of the car, the picture was so winter wonderland it was worth the hassle in your eyes.

winters in cincinnati were rough for him, he still hadn't adapted to the below 10 mornings in the years he'd been with the team, instead seeking your comfort and warmth in the bed you shared before his early practices, never wanting to leave the safe space of his covers in the morning, savouring it as he dragged himself to the shower, where for some reason he refused to had warm morning showers, even when you joined them with him.

you felt his stirring in his sleep, already been awake for at least half an hour with his arm still wrapped loosely around your waisg, always an early riser despite the later sun rises you were getting, your room still covered in a blanket of darkness despite the time on the alarm clock reading 6:58 am in bold, due to go off any minute to wake joe up for practice, and whilst you had the luxury of going back to sleep, he did not, so you were left to your own thoughts.

in the corner of the room, a small decorated tree stuck out in your thoughts, a smile tugging on your lips at the memory of getting it with him when you'd first moved in together two years ago, and thereafter decorating it together, your first christmas seeming so long ago like a blur in your mind. your vanity in the other corner of your room was adorned with other decorations, the picture of you and joe at your first christmas tree lighting in high school together front and centre.

your attention fell back to the sleeping man beside you, his hand subconsciously with a grip on your hip, still deep in whatever dream he was having as you could make out his eyebrows furrowing in the rays of the rising sun that reflected in through the open drawn curtains. down his neck and along his collarbone you caught a glimpse of the marks from the night before, purple and red bruises littering the taut skin, scratch marks travelling over his shoulder and down his back.

mornings together like these were easily up there as the favourite part of your relationship with joe, you both had busy lives, so it was always special to you to have time spent together wether asleep or not. neither of you had any other need than staying close to the other, the gentle rise and fall of his chest soothing you almost to sleep again. just on time, his alarm sounded in the background, feeling him pulling you closer into him as he let out a tired groan, unhappy that he'd been brought out of his peaceful slumber.

tiredly, you left soft kisses across his bare skin, making his waking up at least a little bit more manageable, tilting your head to look up at him when you reached his chest, a small smile forming on your lips as you noticed the tip of his nose had turned a light pink, the coldness in the air wasn't missed by him as he brought the duvet further up your bodies.

the hand you had draped over joe's midriff moved to trace over his bare chest, feeling the goosebumps raising on his skin from the coldness in your touch, the heat of his body quickly fighting it off as you felt the muscles contracting under your light touch when your touch went lower. you tried to bring your hand lower down his body, the feeling of his grabbing your wrists held you back, reactions still quick despite his tired state.

"just wanna warm you up." you said innocently, unconvincingly apparently , as joe finally opened his eyes to meet yours, the mischievousness hiding in plain sight behind them. teasingly, giving him a kiss on the cheek as he leant in, his lips slightly cold at first, warming up quickly against your own as his hand crawled its way up and down your leg, a slight squeeze of your ass when he got there before resting it back on your hips.

he had brought your leg up to sit on his hip, the motion having him so close you could feel his entire body against you, the heat radiating off him. the action also allowed him to deepen the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips as you let him take control, pulling you on top of his body, legs straddling his hips now. from your position now, you could see the corners of the windows had began to frost, the sight of snow undeniable as the sun reflected off of its bright surface. there was still a chill in the air, bringing the covers up to cover your body as you sat over him.

you lightly traced your finger down his face, the one you shamelessly loved to look at so much, the one you looked for in the stadium from your seat and he looked back. the eyelashes you'd always been jealous of framed his eyes perfectly, even as he held them sleepily open, his eyes were mesmerising, forcing you to hold eye contact with him.

there was no way you could talk about how much you loved his face without mentioning his lips - ones that have explored your own and your body only hours ago - you swore he's memorised his way around by now. his bottom lip slightly juts you graze it with your thumb, watching it fall back into place when you let go.

"did i not tire you out enough last night?" for the first time that morning, you're blessed with his morning voice, raspy and deep and deep and one you're sure you'll never get sick of, wanting to hear it every morning for the rest of your lift, a christmas present from him.

you lean closer to him, muscular arms wrapping around your back to hold you secure as you did so, lips just barely grazing joes ear. "could never get tired of you, joey."

just barely, you could hear him swearing under his breath, absentmindedly rolling your hips down against him with the grip he had on you, heat rushing to your cheeks as a small moan escaped your lips from the friction. "you're gonna be the death of me, baby." he muttered to you under his breath, smiling at him teasingly, you gave an experimental grind of your hips, wanting to see how much control he was willing to give you.

he lifted you off of him slightly, the pair of boxer shorts you'd stole from him that now acted as sleep shorts, off in an instant and you were back down on him, the pair of basketball shorts he'd been wearing pulled down just enough to free his cock. "gotta head to practice soon, we're gonna have to be quick." you knew if it was up to him he'd have you both locked in the room, tangled up in your bedsheets together, spending the rest of the day in each others arms, but he unfortunately didn't have time on his side.

you craved his touch, feeling his semi-hardon against you since the moment you'd woken up, feeling the way his hips subconsciously rutted against your ass, and you'd be a liar to say that it didn't turn you on that he wanted you in his dreams just as much as he wanted you awake. a prolonged whine fell from your lips as he bottomed out inside of you, about to drag your hips in a rocking motion when you pressed your hand against his chest.

with less than a second to react, he pressed his lips against yours, the kiss far too intense for a quick morning make out, had your head spinning, the slow drag of his hips slipping a moan from your lips into his mouth. tracking down your jaw and neck, his lips left dark purple marks in their wake in various sizes and shades. you whined as he bit into the soft skin at the base of your neck, soothing the stinging with his tongue.

"fuck joey, thought we had to be quick." your words were breathless, absentmindedly grinding your hips down to meet his and you could feel him deep inside of you, his hands not providing you with aid as he made you do the work to get yourself there, instead running his tongue along your collarbone as he made a mess of your chest with hickey's, in places only his eyes would see, driving him even more feral for you.

“can always take my time with you.” he confessed, lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, the hands that hadn’t helped you before now rested on your hips, keeping you at a steady space, occasionally thrusting up to meet your rhythm but with the most part letting you take your time.

you could feel one of his hands move from your hip, his large palm finding its way to the inside of your thigh and giving the soft flesh a squeeze before his hand grazed over your cunt, a small moan escaping your lips as your head dropped to the hollow part of his shoulder. his thumb toying with your clit as you clenched around him. “fuck, can feel your close, baby.”

you were only able to respond with a short hum, pleading and whining at him to give you more when he began to take over your hips, moving them against him quicker now, someone feeling him deeper inside of you, like he was hitting every spot that had your eyesight fogging and toe’s curling from the pleasure. “shit, joe,” you could feel your orgasm building, practically knocking at the door as your bodies moved against each other.

his hands roamed all over your body as if he was exploring it for the first time, the cold tips of his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he held you down against him, stopping your movements before he begun thrusting up into you, the pleasure overwhelming as you fell against his chest, one of his hands coming to cup your breast, squeezing the flesh and rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers before giving the same attention to the other. “you’re so beautiful, baby.”

you could hear the roughness in his voice, driving you more crazy for him than you already were, as you took back a little more of the control as your hips connected with his faster, the sound of skin on skin filling the room, long forgotten was the winter chill as you took solace in each others bodies, the time on the clock already reading that he’d be late for practice if he didn’t get up now, but he couldn’t have cared less, his attention fully on you as his blue eyes pierced yours, you could see how he was holding himself back, waiting for you to finish before he did and rhe sentiment alone drove you absolutely feral.

the sight of you on top of him was almost too much for him to control himself, the blissed out state on his face becoming more apparent as you clenched around him when his thumb found your clit against, quickening against the sensitive spot and it finally had you tumbling over the edge, your body falling flat against joe’s, the only reason your hips continued moving was because of his hands, working you through it as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, a low guttural groan falling from his lips as he finished inside of you.

his hands wrapped around your back, pulling you against his chest as your hands fell comfortably on his shoulders, the tension in your body gone and you whined as he slid out of you slowly, a comforting hand rubbing up and down your back as the cold air began to bite at you again, the quiet a welcomed state.

you stayed like this for a few minutes, joe making the first move to get up as he went and got a towel to clean you up, and you heard him from the bathroom as he let out a “fuck i’m gonna be so late.” after finally reading the time on the alarm clock.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

First Last Christmas

Word Count - 17.3k

Summary - Jack is starting to think this isn't his best idea, and Idris is starting to maybe regret her choice. Maybe agreeing so quickly to spend the holidays with her baby daddy who she broke up with 3 months isn't the best idea.

Warnings - none. just some family drama but who doesn't have family drama during the hoildays.

Author's Note: It is finally complete. Thank you for everyone who reads this AU and has been excited for this to come out. Thank you Allie for being my beta reader for a good 75 percent of this fic even though she's on vacation. 🫶🏻🫶🏻 This is the longest fic I have ever written so be kind. Consider this my Christmas present from me to you even if it's a little past midnight. 😂

Till Forever Falls Apart Masterlist

Roughly 2 weeks before Christmas…

Idris could physically feel her hand shaking as she rode up the elevator to her old condo - now known as only Jack’s and Luke’s - and it wasn’t anxiety that also made her cheeks feel flushed, it was anger. Idris was so angry with Jack that she could feel her jaw starting to hurt from how tight she clenched her teeth. She looked down at her phone to see if he thought to answer any of her messages about Christmas only to see a text from him asking her to text him when she was leaving her place with the kids. She found herself shaking her head in disbelief as she exited the elevator making the sharp right turn to walk down the hall to knock on her - she still couldn’t bring herself to think of Jack as anything other than Jack, the word ex made her stomach turn and she couldn’t call him her fiance anymore, she could say baby daddy but that only described the relation he had to their children not the impact he had on her, her heart, her life, so he was just - Jack. 

Taking a deep breath she stood in front of apartment 725, trying to make herself calm down even just a little before she faced him, she knocked heavily on the door. Jack answered almost immediately, it’s expected he was expecting her to drop the kids off to him on his day off. But the kids are still over at her little cozy apartment spending time with their Uncle Luke and Uncle Nico, because she needed time to talk to Jack about how he’s been avoiding all of her calls and texts about Christmas. 

“Hey guy-” He didn’t finish his greeting that was meant for his children and his smile dropped as his eyebrows frowned ever so slightly when he realized the kids weren’t with her. Idris isn’t sure if it was a conscious act or not, as he slightly boxed himself into the doorway more as if to not let her into his space. Even if it was a place that she decorated herself with him years ago, before Luke even joined the NHL and lived with them, before they ever even fell into their friends with benefits situation, back when Jack was just her guy best friend who she just so happened to meet due to a one night stand. Back when he was 19 and just got his first apartment and Jill was still stocking his fridge when he was due to come back from long roadies. “Where are the kids?” he sighed as he questioned her, as if he didn't have time for whatever she was planning. ‘Too bad’ Idris thought to herself, ‘Christmas is two weeks away and we have two children who believe in Santa. Time to act like an adult.’ 

“At my place with Luke and Nico. I needed to talk to you and I didn’t want listenin’ ears.” she explained, but she didn’t miss the way that Jack crossed his arms and looked annoyed. 

“So that’s why Luke was up so early this morning. Course he just had to run off to help you.” he snapped bitterly and Idris was finding it hard not to yell at him. ‘This is about the kids. Christmas. Kids. Christmas.’ she kept repeating to herself trying to get herself not to be roped into another useless fight with the man in front of her. 

“Jack, we both know he’s not doing it for me. He’s doing it because he loves his niece and nephew.” Idris tried reasoning with him. “But that’s not why I came here. Can you let me in? I really don’t want to do this in the hall.” Jack flashed an unreadable expression on his face, something unmistakingly softer than earlier, almost looking like the old Jack for a millisecond and then it was gone as quick as it came, as he stepped aside giving Idris room to step into the apartment. 

Idris couldn’t stop herself from word vomiting as she noticed that no decorations were out for Christmas, not even the children’s stockings were hung. “Where is the tree?” she asks as she slips her scarf and gloves, gently placing them in her coat pocket as she places it on the back of the chair, her heeled booties already off by the door looking like they never left beside her children’s and Jack’s array of shoes. 

“Didn’t feel like decorating.” he mumbled as he walked past her and sat down on the coach in the living room. “What do you want, Idris?” he asks as he picks back up his controller, Idris was fully prepared to scream thinking he was going to resume his game but was surprised and maybe even a little grateful when she realized he was just turning it off. 

“Well even if you don’t you “feel like it.” Zander is old enough to notice Jack.” she tries to speak softly, so it doesn’t come off as judgmental as she wants to be. Although her words still have a sharpness to them. “We need to talk about Christmas. You haven’t answered a single of the hundreds of texts I’ve sent trying to plan with you.” Idris adds, as she is reminded of the reason she came over in the first place, ‘the kids. Christmas.’ 

“Well maybe I didn’t feel like decorating this year.” he snaps, it isn’t harsh, kind of like how he snaps at the media when they repeat a question or ask something that isn’t logical, like the time they said ‘Quinn was like a brother to Jack.’ when he is in fact Jack’s older brother. But still, even if it wasn’t harsh, a little over a year ago, he would never even think to give her attitude when she’s just trying to be a good mom to their kids. “Also I liked the message Iddy. I got the toy alright.” he huffs, and it takes everything in Idris not to scream at the man sitting in front of her, manspreading, arms crossed, as if she is wasting his time.

“That’s not the point and you know it. Cool you got a toy off the internet congrats on doing the absolute bare minimum. For god sakes you haven’t even decorated Jack! Christmas is literally 2 weeks away! What the hell! I thought we agreed that the kids' happiness came first! And that includes Christmas. Do you think I wanted to decorate by my fucking self this year! No. Do you think I want to be standing here begging for you to look at me so we can talk about where our children are spending Christmas! No. I much rather be curled in bed with Luna doing nothing but here I am. Here I am! I am trying to co-parent with you! But how can I when you don’t answer any of my texts or calls trying to talk about what we're gonna do!” Idris yells, she doesn’t feel better, she feels like shit, she always does when she’s fighting with Jack, as if he is a vacuum that sucks all the energy out of her. She’s also close to tears, but Idris has always been one of those people that cry when she’s so angry she can barely think coherently. She looks at Jack from across the room and waits, waits for him to care enough to answer her. 

“I’m off for Christmas break, I thought the answer was obvious. I’m taking ‘em home to the lakehouse.” Whether it’s because Jack is speaking softly or the drumming in Idris’ ears is too loud from the anger she feels, she looks at him with disbelief. 

“What?” she breaths out. 

“Imma take ‘em home, Idris. You had them for Thanksgiving. It’s only fair I have them for Christmas.” Jack is standing now as if he’s preparing for a fight with her, but she can’t bring herself to fight, her body is in shock. Jack might have been an asshole and maybe that’s why she left, but he was never cruel and taking her children away from her on Christmas was cruel. 

“I took them to Ann Arbour for the long weekend to spend time with my family. I drove to the lakehouse 2 ½ hours away both ways so they could see their Uncle Quinn, your brother Jack. Then not even 30 hours later, I made the drive again so they could see you and Luke on Sunday. And spend time with you on the day you were free from hockey. Then I drove home alone” her voice cracked, she wished it hadn’t but it did and a dam of tears started streaming down her face like a hurricane banging on a screen door in the summer night. Suddenly Jack’s stomach started to hurt and his socks looked much more interesting than Iddy’s face.  “I drove home alone. Crying because of you! Because your words you had with me about not being there sooner with them! About how I was trying to ruin the holidays. So no.” Idris took a deep breath using her hands to speak as she made air quotes as she spoke “ I didn’t ‘get them for thanksgiving’ I shared them with you, and your family even if you weren’t there. I tried to be fair, and mind you I did it without talking to you because you refused to just like you are now. I know that you hate me for leaving, and I can live with that. But what I can’t live with is battling against me every goddamn fucking day because you’re not adult enough to have a fucking conversation about what’s best the kids. Because you know who you’re hurting when you do that Jack?” she asks him and Jack glances up from his feet feeling like he’s being scolded by his mother, deciding that it was probably a rhetorical question. “You might think it’s me, but it’s our kids. Zander doesn't understand why his mama and daddy live apart now. Zola who adores her father and who still is her favorite person, and she might be little but she isn’t stupid, she can feel the tension when we’re in the same room. If you want to spend your Christmas break at home fine but I am not spending Christmas without my kids.” Idris’ feels a migraine starting to brew with the amount of stress she is having, as she glances at the family room clock and realizes she’s been here for 10 minutes and nothing productive has been done. She runs her hands through her hair, its shorter now since she cut it, shaking it out and pulling at it,  as if pulling on her scalp will lessen the stress.

“So you wanna stay here?” the confusion is clear in his voice, she doesn’t have to look at him to know that. 

“No.” She exhales, looking up making eye-contact with him, his blue eyes boring into hers, it doesn’t matter the history when he looks at her at that all dumbfounded and confused like only she can bring him out of it, it makes her knees go weak. “We’re always home for Christmas. It’s just harder now.” 

“Because you left.” He mumbles to himself. 

“Actually not what I was thinking, more like Zander believes in Santa and all gifts for everyone and the kids have been shipped here. And how are we gonna get all the kids gifts in 2 checked bags, plus their strollers, and diapers and everything else they need for traveling. Let alone the fact we have Apollo and Luna now, and checking them into the animal hotel was fine for Thanksgiving but the kiddos missed them and cried about it all week.” 

The more Idris talks, the more it’s obvious how much thought she has actually put into this, and Jack feels guilty for causing her so much anxiety knowing that if he just wasn’t so stubborn they could have figured this out around Thanksgiving and not waited till 2 weeks before. Plus, if Jack was being honest with himself, he would have procrastinated even longer having this conversation with Iddy if she didn’t just show up on his doorstep and force him to talk. He was still so mad at her for leaving, he knew they were in a bad place, but he didn’t know it was that bad. Idris settles on the couch opposite of Jack and puts her hands on her head, leaning forward resting her elbows on her knees and Jack flinches; she only does that when she’s starting to get a migraine which she only gets because of stress. Stress that Jack caused and that doesn’t sit right with him. 

Jack's mouth slightly twitches, his palms getting slightly sweaty as he squeezes his knees with them and fights internally with himself. If this was even 10 weeks ago, he would walk over to her and hold her and tell her everything was gonna be okay. But that was before, and even though he knew he was only lying to himself to make himself feel better, he hasn’t done that in almost a year, holding her when she got too stressed out. Most of the time he just blamed her for working too much, or putting herself in the position she was in. “Fuck it” he mumbles to himself as he gets up and goes in front of Iddy, sitting on his knees as softly calls her name grabbing her hands as they are in little balls now and he knows she’s using her nails to put pressure on them, sighing when he sees all the little bright red  half moon imprints. “Idz.” he whispers, a nickname only he uses, he hasn’t used it in months but he hopes it helps bring her out of her head and back to him.

 “Idz, I’m sorry,” he speaks softly, and he grins when she finally looks at him. “You’re right I haven’t been good at communicating when it comes to the kids and it is selfish of me. And I knew it was stressing you out and I didn’t care. I’m sorry Idz.” His hand twitched in hers, he wanted to bring her palms up to his lips and softly kiss each mark she inflicted on herself but he didn’t wanna push it. She was letting him hold her hand, after he was a dick for weeks to her, simply for choosing herself. He settled on rubbing small circles with his thumbs into her hands. “Comeon’ Idz let’s look at a calendar ya?” He asks he still won’t speak above a whisper, he doesn’t want to shout anymore, he’s tired and he wants to finish planning so he can go pick up his kids and play with them before he has to drop them back off at Iddys because he has a 6 am morning skate time tomorrow due to being a game day. 

“Why that still doesn’t answer the question of where?” She squeaks out, and his heart hurts that she doesn’t get that they can go to Michigan and be home. 

“Iddy we’ve always gone home and that doesn’t have to change okay? I’ll drive up with all the presents if I have to alright?” 

“What about Apollo and Luna, you know she doesn’t like car rides or the plane but I don’t wanna leave her.” Jack resists the urge to take his thumb and pull at her bottom lip she’s chewing on, he hates when she chews on her lip as cute as it might look, because she never stops until it chewed raw, usually bleeding. 

“We can take Luna to the vet to get medicine to help with the car ride alright? And I can take them in the car. okay?” He’s not really asking if he can take them more if she has any questions about his plan so far. 

“Okay but where in Michigan.” 

“At home Idz.” He doesn’t have to say it, she knows there are only two places he calls home in Michigan, his moms and dads house he spent a few teenage years in, and the lakehouse he owned with Quinn. They have always hosted Christmas at the lakehouse for as long as they’ve owned it. 

“That doesn’t answer where I will stay? I don’t want to be away from the kids when they wake up on Christmas Day. This is the first year Zander is starting to understand the concept of Santa, I don’t wanna miss his face when he sees all the presents under the tree and all the cookies he laid out gone.” 

Jack chuckles, not because of her reasoning but because he can see Zander screaming his head off Christmas morning. It takes everything in him not to let his pet name for her slip, his heart aches, its moments like this he wishes they were still together, but if they were together they wouldn’t be debating where to spend Christmas. “You can stay at the house, Iddy, it’s as much yours as it is mine or Quinn’s. I mean you were there when we picked it out, there when we signed for it, definitely was the one in charge of furnishing it.” 

She made a face as she asked “isn’t that weird?” 

“Who cares if it’s weird? When have we ever been normal?” he chuckles trying to break the tension that was still left in the air. 

“What most people don’t have two kids with a one night stand?” Iddy asks sarcastically and they both laugh, the mood finally lightening up for the first time since she arrived. 

So it was settled Idris would be spending Christmas week at the lakehouse, she would fly in with the kids the Friday before Christmas out of Newark airport where Jack dropped them off. She will first drive to her parents and spend the night hanging out there so they can see their grandchildren they don’t see enough of. Idris and the kiddos will spend the night at her sister's little townhouse, because she didn’t think she would want to drive the 2 ½ hours to the lakehouse that late. If she was by herself she wouldn’t care, but she really tried hard to keep the kids on their routine when they were with her and that included bathed and in bed by 7. The next day they’ll drive up to the lake house where they will spend a few days alone before Jack arrives Monday night with Apollo and Luna with him. Luke and the rest of the family already decided not to arrive until Christmas Eve, Luke even brought his plane ticket already and they will spend Christmas together. It seemed simple enough, what could go wrong? At least they had a plan now. 

After talking everything out, Idris felt much better, they even talked about the kids' gifts and who was getting what, what was Santa’s and what was from them. They both agreed the kids were too little and it was too petty to separate the gifts they gave their children ‘from daddy’ or ‘from mama.’ Everything that wasn’t Santa came from them as a unit, even if they didn’t work together all that well.

“Wait.” she gasps as Jack starts to stand, but if Idris says wait he will, even if his body is in an awkward position half standing, half bent over. Jack can’t help but think that this position probably isn’t good for his shoulder since he’s putting all his weight on it. But he didn’t care, if it earned him brownie points with Idris. She softly pulled him down to the position he was before and he was grateful he didn’t have to feel the tension in his shoulder anymore. “I don’t want to get to the house 3 days before Christmas and have to decorate yet another house for Christmas.” Usually they decorated together the weekend after Thanksgiving. If they were up there, his mom would always come and help Iddy since Jack never had much time in the mist of the season. But at least that way they never had to stress over it when they were only up there for Christmas break for a few days. 

“Why don’t I ask my mom for help?” he asks, normally he would just tell her he was going to ask his mom. But now with the separation, everything felt off on its axis like he needed permission before he offered a solution. She didn’t reject it right away so Jack took it as an invitation to keep going, “she loves decorating for Christmas Idz, I’m sure her and dad can run up and put the tree together and everything before you and the kids get there.” 

“That’s a lot to ask of them.” She’s biting her lip again and Jack bites his as a response, ‘please stop baby, you're gonna make yourself bleed.’ But it’s not his place anymore to say that even if it makes him sick watching her do it and not saying anything. 

Jack sighs, he knows they wouldn’t mind, they would be happy to help. But he also knows the way Iddy grew up wasn’t the way he did, and every favor even if it was a family member came at a price to her. Jack, no matter how hard he tried over the years could never get that out of her head. “You know they would do anything for you.” He says as he looks into her eyes, grateful she’s finally making eye-contact with him. He could have said ‘for the kids’ or ‘for me’ but he knew it held more weight if he said the truth. Decorating was going to ease Iddys to-do list, not his and the kids honestly probably wouldn’t care they are still so little. But it matters to Idris for some reason to make this Christmas perfect, so he was gonna try his damn hardest to help her. She nods a ‘okay’ and Jack smiles, probably for the first time in days except after he scored a goal last night and had a celly on the ice.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Friday December 20,2024

It should be easy enough, flying with the kids by herself. Idris didn’t think it would be difficult, it’s not the first time either of them have been on a plane. She has flown with both of them with Jack plenty of times, even all the way to Vancouver once to visit Quinn. She even flew without him with the kids over Thanksgiving and that is the busiest time of year to travel. Thankfully, she didn’t have to lug too much around just enough stuff for them for night and a few winter items for the kids that she knew weren't in the lakehouse due to their fast growing bodies. It was fine in the beginning, Zander was in that phase where he loved being a helper, but it made a turn for the worse quickly. Jack had decided that he didn’t want to just drop them at the door, but help her check in, even though she had carried even more by herself less than a month ago. But she didn’t want to bicker when he was trying to be nice. Zander wanted to help so Jack let him ‘push’ one of the suitcases, really Jack was pushing it with his foot, sometimes grabbing it to steer. Zander didn’t seem to notice, focused on the task at hand, pushing the suitcase across the parking garage floor. It was cute how happy her son was at his father’s compliments. “Good job Z. Keep going buddy.” Idris was busy wearing the diaper backpack bag, holding Zola, and the carrier in her other hand that she decided she didn’t need to wear yet. She was pushing her carry-on suitcase with her hand following behind Jack who had both car seats (because all though it isn’t a rule, Idris will be damned if her kids aren’t secure 35,000 feet in the air.) 

At one point Zander got distracted by the sound of a car coming down the ramp, it was a loud high pitch sound, he never did like loud sounds, he jumped he would have hit his hand on the handle of the suitcase if Jack’s hand wasn’t there. “I scared.” Zander mumbled, as he looked up at his dad and decided to hang on to his leg. Idris could tell that he was pulling at Jack, trying to get him to open his legs more so Zander could attempt to hide himself in them. The car skeeted past them and it took everything in Jack not to yell at them for being an asshole and scaring his kid. “Daddy?” Zander whined, and it hurt him. He hated seeing his kids upset even if it was something as simple as getting spooked by a loud sound. He could hear Idris behind him, trying to calm a fussy Zola who also didn’t appreciate the unexpected noise. 

Jack squatted to the ground to be eye-level with his son, gently putting each car seat down, using his knee to keep the giant suitcase from rolling away. Zander didn’t wait to be comforted, he jumped into his arms and Jack embraced him cooing in his ear that it was alright. Idris was suddenly grateful that Jack insisted on dropping them off three hours ahead of time instead of the normal two, because they haven’t even made it out of the parking garage and they’ve been here almost 20 minutes. Zander wanted his mom to carry him once he was calm and as much as she wanted to explain she couldn’t, she didn’t. Instead she handed Zola to Jack and stripped herself of the backpack and her winter coat momentarily to put to strap her carrier on. Then she put back on her winter coat, grabbed Zola and set her inside. Then gently, bending down she put the backpack on and picked Zander up and balanced him on her hip. Jack stared at her, as if this was the hottest thing she had ever done in front of him. He knew no one else probably found it attractive, but watching Idris be a mom always made the pit of his stomach warm, at least he wasn’t sporting a semi in public due to his baby-mama he wasn’t even with he thought to himself. 

“Ready?” she breathes out. Jack knows it’s directed at her, but his throat feels dry with where his mind was going as he was watching her, so he just nods. Picking up both bulky car seats, he tries to push the carry-on suitcase with his leg which he is successful. But he can’t really steer as well as he thought he could. ‘Maybe it was good Zander was helping him’ he thought to himself. “J I got it.” grabbing the suitcase and rolling it on her side, Jack wasn’t sure how she was able to push both suitcases, and hold both kids. 

Somehow it was smooth sailing from there, Jack stayed until Idris was done checking in, bags checked. The bag she was originally going to use as a carry-on she decided to check because she didn’t want to lug another thing around if she didn’t have to. Zander decided he could stand now and wanted to be a helper so Idris let him hold her phone. He was honestly too little to carry a car-seat or wear the diaper bag, and although he has carried Zola before it wasn’t for long distances, they are practically the same size after all. 

Saying goodbye to Jack was weird, not for the kids, they were fine. But this was the first time they have really said a goodbye before one of them takes off in an airplane while they aren’t together. Both of them don’t seem to know what to do with that piece of information, Jack switching the weight back and forth between his feet to help ease his nerves. Iddy with her bottom lip between her teeth, it was finally Zander who broke the awkwardness with his question from below them. “Daddy, why not come?” he asks, he doesn’t seem upset more than anything curious. Jack bends down and explains he has a few more games, and then he promises he will come and he’s even gonna bring Apollo and Luna with him. Zander gasps at the news, a look of excitement in his eyes at the fact the family dog and cat were gonna be there for Christmas. “When?” he asks. 

“4 sleeps buddy.” As he pulls his son in for another hug, kissing the top of his head. Idris stomach twist, in a good way, she knew Jack was always good with kids. But seeing Jack being good with their kids, made something stir in her she hasn’t felt in a while. She takes a deep breath, pushing down whatever feelings were trying to crawl their way up. Jack puts his forehead against Zanders, like he always does before they are going to be separated. “Make sure you listen to Mama okay?”

“Okie daddy.” he stretches and moves away, his attention span has never been long even compared to other two-year olds. Zander holds onto Idris' hand as Jack stands and puts his hand on Zola’s head, leans down and gives her another kiss. 

“Bye-bye Zozo.” he coos. He smiles when she babbles back at him mixed in with “da-da” Finally he steps back and looks at Idris, he wants to step into her space, to hug her, kiss her goodbye even if it’s just on the cheek. But he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he stands back grasping the back of his neck, he can feel the slight sweat on his skin. “Uhh Iddy. Call me when you land okay." She steps forward and hugs him unprompted and he suddenly doesn’t have any breath in his lungs. He just closes his eyes and wraps an arm around her, the other reaching down to pet Zanders head. Jack could stand there all day despite having a game tonight, hell he could stand there forever if she’d let him. He breathed in finally, enjoying the scent of her shampoo, the smell of baby powder from Zola, he was holding his whole family for the first time in months and he will be damned if he ends it first. 

Jack isn’t sure how long they stood there, time always escapes him when Iddy is in his arms. Finally she looks at him “you’ll be doin’ your pre-game napping when we land.” It takes Jack a second for his brain to catch up, of course leave it to Iddy to go right back to conversation like that wasn’t the first time he had her in his arms in months. 

“Doesn’t matter.” he doesn’t leave room for debate, but he knows she will have something to say so he adds, “you and our kids are about to be on a plane without me, I will be lucky if I can even get my heart to stop pounding so fast, so I could sleep before I know you’re safe Idz.” He doesn’t look away, and neither does she, both trying to read what the other person is thinking. Neither of them giving the other even a slight clue, ‘when did I stop being able to read her every thought’ he thought to himself. 

“Okay.” she nodded at him, putting the car seats on the shitty airport trolly an airline employee offered. Idris was busy,  making sure Zander was holding onto the side of the cart and then she turned and left. Jack stood there to see if she would turn around and wave before she got onto the escalator she didn’t. But at least Jack could be happy that his son did, waving bye to his dad as he yelled something Jack couldn’t hear but knew it was some sort of goodbye. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday December 22nd: 

Jack had practice this morning but he didn’t care, just went through the motions. He missed his kids, he missed Iddy, but missing them isn’t new, being away from them due to his hockey schedule isn’t new. He missed most of Zander's firsts - from being a newborn baby to about 8 months old -  due to hockey. Jack knew the all too familiar feeling of missing his family, having fomo was his villain origin story at this point. The only thing that was new was the fact that he was home and they weren’t. It always fucked with him the most the nights where they were with Idris and not him. But at least for the most part they tried to switch off every other night. Jack knows that when he wakes up he’ll see his kids that morning or that afternoon picking them up from daycare. But this, them being home and him being in Jersey, it was torture, it felt like something was nawwing at his skin from the inside, and no matter what he did he couldn’t get the restless feeling out of his head or off his skin. 

The only good news he had was that tomorrow night right after the game he was gone. Jack would leave directly from the rock to the lakehouse if he could tomorrow. But he has to pick up Apollo and Luna from his place first. The little fact that he will be with his kids and Idris under the same roof after tomorrow night is the only thing keeping him from not screaming from the endless restlessness he was feeling. 

“You seem tense.” Nico observes and normally Jack would appreciate his captain and one of his best friends on the team checking on him. But right now he didn’t want to talk, he wanted to skip his shower and get dressed as quick as possible and go home. Jack wanted to pack the car so it was ready for tomorrow, he wanted to get gas so he didn’t have to stop tomorrow night, he wanted to FaceTime Idris and talk to her and his kids. Even though he knew she wasn’t going to talk to him, she would always answer though so he could talk to Zander and Zola. 

“I’m fine.” He mumbles, Jack didn’t even try to hide the little bit of annoyance in his voice. 

“Dude you don’t seem fine. Is everything okay at home?” Nico whispers the last part, he knows Jack doesn’t want people knowing about his life. Even though every single person on the team, coaches, medical staff and hell even the social media team knows Idris and him are living apart. But that doesn’t mean they know all the inner personal details of the day-to-day baby-mama drama. Even Nico doesn’t want their shit aired out for the gossip groups of the Rock. 

“Not in the mood to talk.” Jack mumbles as he throws a pair of sweats on. Jack knows he’s going to regret not showering as soon as he’s home, but at least if he’s home he can take a real shower, maybe if he stands under the hot water long enough - the water hot enough to feel like it’s slightly burning - he’ll be able to think about anything else besides Idris hugging him in the airport and how good it felt to have her in his arms again every time he closes his eyes. 

“Come on man. Keeping that shit in isn’t gonna help you.” Nico is poking, he wants Jack to talk, but Jack doesn’t wanna talk to him. 

He’s still pissed at Nico for babysitting his kids with his brother so Idris could come yell at him about Christmas. Nico also last week took his kids out for hot chocolate when Idris couldn’t pick them up on time from daycare on time due to a meeting running late. Jack can’t be pissed at Idris for not calling him, not trusting him enough to help her out when he was perfectly available. Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about the butterflies she gave him in his stomach when he wrapped her arms around him. Or the fact that he has been a dick to her since they separated, he made Luke their mediator in everything revolving around Idris for the first two weeks, including pick-up and drop-offs. But he can be pissed at Nico and he will be. Even if Jack knows Nico would never make a move on Idris, he knows they are like siblings, he also knows Idris would never go after one of his teammates even if they are separated. But the idea of Idris choosing another man over him, Jack’s always been the jealous type, ‘territorial like a pitbull’ is what his high school girlfriend called it. 

“I know you miss ‘em Jack, it’s normal you know. I miss my fam-” 

Jack cuts him off, he turns his head to Nico’s cubby and in a second he’s in his face screaming at him. “You don’t know shit Nico. This isn’t me missing my mommy or sister. I miss my kids who are 1000 miles away from me right now! You can’t even keep a girl long enough to have a kid. So you latch onto mine? How could you possibly know what I’m feelin’!” he yells. Luke and Jesper are pulling him away from Nico, Jack doesn’t know what happened, one second he was fine the next he was attacking. Jack really doesn’t know what happened, sure he might have been mad at Nico, but to try to attack him? He has always had a slight anger problem but usually it was just when shit didn’t go his way on the ice. The last couple weeks though he’s been snapping at everyone. 

“Bro chill.” he hears Luke in his ear, he tries to shove him off but Luke doesn’t let him, using his long arms to his advantage wrapping Jack in them as he pulls them to the other side of the locker room towards Luke’s bench. “You can be angry but you can’t take that shit out on anyone but yourself.” Luke mumbles softly, Jack knows if they were home he’d be louder, but Luke represents him too much as his older brother to air out his business out in the locker room. Or maybe it was Idris or the kids that made Luke stay quiet, whatever it was Jack was thanking the heavens as he felt himself calm down. Most of the people in the locker room had left to shower, or at least pretended to not listen and watch Jack’s breakdown in front of them.

Luke was holding him in his arms not letting him move until he forced his body to calm down. It must have taken longer than Jack thought to calm down because next time Jack looked up he noticed all the guys were gone, it was just Luke and himself in the room. He’s not sure where 10 men that are over 6 '0 ft tall and over 200 lbs went in 30 seconds but he’s grateful to be alone with his brother because he’s about to cry and at least Luke won’t think of him as pathetic as he felt for it. Luke lets go of his brother and Jack takes a step forward and then turns around so he’s facing Luke. Jack doesn’t wanna look up and see whatever emotion Luke is displaying on his face; disappointment, anger, sympathy. Although Jack doubts Luke feels any sympathy for Jack, he’s seen most of the shit go down between Idris and himself. Jack wouldn’t feel sympathy if he was in Luke’s shoes. Jack stares at his shoes, his dirty white sneakers he keeps here to wear before games. He must have slipped on the wrong pair of shoes when he was too in his head earlier. “It’s just eh” he tries to start, he clears his throat before he tries again. “This is the longest I’ve ever been away from my kids unless I was on a roadie.” 

“I know.” he says, Luke’s tone is neutral, but his voice sounds annoyed. Jack knows his brother isn’t annoyed, he really has no emotion behind his words, and that’s how Jack knows he’s getting fed up with his shit. 

“And Apollo all he does is cry at the door waiting for them to come home, and Luna won’t even glance my way like I’ve personally wounded her by taking her back to our place for a few days. It’s one thing to miss them, it’s another thing to have to watch how even our pets miss them.” Jack sniffles, he didn’t want to cry in front of Luke. He’s done a lot of that lately but he can’t help it, he misses them so much his chest physically hurts. 

“You are going to see them tomorrow night Jacky.” Luke tried to reason as he took a step towards his brother. 

“Yeah but by the time I get there, the kids will be asleep and probably Idris too. Plus I’ll have to crawl into a cold bed since Iddy’s stayin’ in the guest room.” he complains.

“Not to sound like a dick but who’s fault is it that you're even separated in the first place? And don’t say Iddy cause she’s the one who had the balls to leave cause maybe you don’t remember but I do live with you Jack. I know you're my big brother and I will always root for you, I will always look up to you in some way. But you can't seriously be mad at anyone else for where you’re standing.” 

Jack didn’t have a response for his little brother, but he’s never felt like a shitter older brother. Big brothers were supposed to set examples, be a role model, they were supposed to give the “get your shit together” talk to their little brothers, not the other way around. Jack is tired of Luke calling him out lately, but he doesn’t say it, he just sighs and glances up finally. Jack thinks he might be even more tired of seeing that expression on Luke’s face. The one where he’s disappointed but also looks like someone who has no shock in their body, like it was expected for Jack to yell and try to fight Nico, as if it was expected for Luke to have pull him off, or even expected for Jack to try to reason his actions with shitty excuses he knew held no weight. 

Jack just wants it to be tomorrow night so at least he can block everything out and just drive, drive until he finally feels at ease for the first time in days because he will be with his family, his kids, his Idz. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday, December 23 ~ 2 days till Christmas: 

Idris was tired, she loved her kids, but not talking to another adult since Saturday morning when she left her sister’s was starting to weigh on her. Of course, she’s messaged Jack here and there when he’s asked for updates, texted her sister off and on. But an actual conversation, not since Saturday and she was starting to go a little stir crazy because of it. 

“MAMA.” Zander screamed from the family room, thankfully because of the open floorplan she didn’t have to move from the stove to answer his calls. 

“Yeah Z baby” she calls. “I’m in the kitchen bubs.” she calls out to him. Immediately she hears the pitter patter of his feet hitting the floor as he runs to her. 

“When's daddy comin’?” he asks as he slams his entire body weight into her legs, immediately trying to climb up her legs while he waits for an answer.. Thankfully she is normal for him constantly running into her and climbing her or Jack, it’s like his body constantly has to be in movement. Ellen swears that Jack was the same way, - and although she always wished to have a ‘mini - Jack’ when she was pregnant with Zander, she wishes she was more specific with the universe, she meant looks and not his restless energy and sass - Idris hopes that he starts to calm as he gets older and not more energetic because she doesn't know how she will survive the ‘horrible threes’ if he is even more of a ball of energy. 

“Honey I’m cooking lunch, do you want up?” she asks her son, glancing away from the grilled cheese she’s making for Zander and Zola to share. Zander continues to pull on the side of her hoodie, the bottoms of his feet pushing her calves trying to continue to climb her. 

“Yeah.” he finally huffs, Iddy barely bends down as she scoops her son up and sits him on the counter next to the stove so he can watch as she cooks. 

“It’s hot, Zander. No touching anything or you’ll have to get down." She gently reminds her son, but she’s not sure if he even knows that she is talking to him. Immediately jumping back into why he came to find his mom anyway. 

“When's daddy comin?” Frowning his eyebrows as he has to repeat his question from earlier. 

“Soon baby. Tomorrow. Daddy has one more game he has to play sweetheart.” Iddy says gently, not sure how he will respond, as she removes the pan from the hot burner and turns the stovetop off. 

“I wanna watch,” he says, although ‘watch’ comes out more as ‘wash.’ Iddy can’t help but smile at how he pronounces some words, still learning how to perfect some of his sounds. 

“Okay. It starts in about an hour I think. First lunch, then we can watch Daddy.” Idris starts to silently pray to the powers above that no one slams into Jack today, like they did the last time Idris let Zander watch one of his dads games a few weeks ago. She really doesn’t want Zander to get scared again like last time, he was so scared until he saw Jack and with him driving here tonight, she couldn’t imagine having an anxious Zander until the middle of the night. 

“FaceTime Daddy and ukle ‘uky.” he asks, Idris grins Zander also hasn’t perfected his ‘L’ sound yet. Idris turns to the 2 kid plates behind her that have some fruit on them and cuts the grilled cheese into 4 pieces and gives Zander 2 pieces and Zola’s plate one to start. 

“I’ll have to see if he’s available honey”, as she microwaves the leftover broccoli in the microwave from the night before she planned to add it to the kids lunch to make it a little more balanced. 

Pulling out her phone, as she walks back over to Zander texting Jack to ask if he has time before the game for a FaceTime. Glancing at the clock she knows the players are probably getting dressed for warm-ups right now or even on the ice for warmups already. Iddy helps her son get down from the counter and helps him settle into a chair at the kitchen table with his food. She sits Zola’s plate in front of her, as she drags Zola and her high-chair closer to the table. 

“Daddy first.” Zander demands, and Idris sighs as she is about to tell her son Jack hasn’t answered her yet but she’s saved by her phone ringing. 

Idris answers the phone, setting it up so it’s promoted in front of Zander. The first thing Jack hears as it finally connects is “Zander you still have to eat while talking to daddy.” Jack grins as he sees his son on the screen, head turned slightly no doubt pouting at Iddy. 

“I don’t wan’ broccoli.” he fusses. 

“Zander.” Jack calls his attention, it’s the first time Zander or Idris address that he’s on the phone. Idris is suddenly glad she’s off camera because she’s pretty sure her breath catches at the sight of Jack. He is sitting in his cubby, the phone titled so all you can see is the collar of his jersey and head, his hair damp and messy probably from him running his hands through it too much, his jawline perfectly on display. “Are you listening to Mama?” he asks. 

Zander looks like a deer caught in headlights, pouting slightly at the fact his dad is calling him out on his behavior. “Bb-but mama’s broccoli isn’t as good as yours.” he mumbles, arms crossed, looking down at his lap as he tells his dad why in his 2-year-old logic he is right. Iddy can’t help but roll her eyes because what her son really means is that she doesn’t smother it in butter and cheese. 

“I’m sure Mama made you more than broccoli Z.” he reasons. But Zander doesn’t respond verbally, just shoves a piece of grilled cheese in his mouth. 

“Daddy you comin’ soon?” he asks mouth full and all, shifting in his chair, suddenly on his knees so he can bend closer to the screen. 

“Yeah I’ll be there tomorrow when you wake up.” Jack answers. 

“Daddy?”

“Yeah.”

“You get a goal fa me.” Zander asks, Jack can hear Iddy chuckle close by in the background even if he can’t see her, and it makes his chest warm. 

“I’ll try bubs.” he promises. Jack looks off the camera and bites his lip, probably contemplating how to say bye to his son so quick. “I gotta go Z.” he softly says. 

“You always have to go.” Zander whines and his pout deepens. 

Jack doesn’t know what to say, he’s glad Idris is close by and can take over. “Z, he can’t score you a goal if he doesn’t go warm-up. Coach will be mad, Daddy might get in trouble and not be able to play.” Idris tries explaining, and although it’s a little dramatic Jack wouldn’t probably get benched if he skipped warm-ups he would definitely get chewed out by more than one person. 

“And how is he gonna score you a goal from the bench baby?” she asks their son. 

After another minute or so, Zander says “okie. Bye daddy. Good ‘uck.” he smiles at his dad. ‘Gosh toddlers and their big emotions,’ Jack thought to himself, as he told Zander bye and that he loves him and how he will see him soon. 

Iddy was able to finish feeding both kids and settle into the coach just in time to turn on the game. Zander is two so his attention span isn’t long enough to pay attention to a whole game. But when Jack gets the first goal 5 minutes into the game, Zander can’t help but scream jumping up and down, “Daddy scored! Daddy scored.” Idris shyly pulls out her phone to take a video of her son’s little celly in the family room, and sends it to Jack to see after the game.

It’s even more of a reaction when Jack gets a second goal, with an assist by Luke. Idris was never into hockey before she met Jack, but now her favorite part about watching hockey is watching her son react to it. They watched Jack get ‘star of the game’ and his interview after in the locker room. The one thing that stuck out to Idris about the interview was when he was asked about his celly. The reporter said he looked like he was trying to sign a ‘z’ in the air after both goals and wanted to know if he knew ASL. 

Jack has the biggest smile on his face, as he lightly chuckles, “no, not well. My kid Zander probably knows more than me.” Everyone laughs at that. “His name starts with a ‘z’ and before the game he asked if i could score him a goal so uh… I guess it was my way of saying hi.” Jack is slightly blushing now, he doesn’t talk about his kids often, he doesn’t post them, but everytime he does mention them he has nothing but adoration in his eyes. 

The reporter follows up with, “After the second you signed ‘z’ twice, why the difference, was it on purpose?” 

“Wow you were really watching me eh?” he jokes. “Do I need to file a report for a stalker?.” After a pause he laughs and goes “ I’m messing with you.Yeah it was on purpose, my second born is named Zola, and we call her Zozo a lot. So I guess it was my way of saying hi to her. Although she is under 2, she probably didn’t make the connection, despite also knowing more ASL than I do.” Everyone laughs after that, and Iddy loses focus as she is consumed in her thoughts about what Jack just revealed, 

Zander ends up FaceTiming with Jack one more time as Jack is sitting in the car in his apartment’s garage about to leave. Idris thinks it’s kind of cute watching how Zander can barely hold her phone as he marches around the house updating him on his thoughts of the Rangers game today. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bedtime was surprisingly easy at first, until Zander said he was scared to sleep in his big kid bed by himself. In a way, it can be understandable since they made the switch to a floor bed for him, she can’t remember if he ever actually has slept in it yet. Plus the one at both Jack’s and her place are the exact same, even the same frame, since originally one of them was brought for the lake house. But when they split they ended up using the frame for Idris’ apartment. Then, when she finally remembered they didn’t have one for the house in Michigan and she tried to go back and buy the same frame for a third time - because Zander has a very hard time with transition and change, she knew it was best if everything was the same - they were sold out. 

Then if she takes into account how this weekend went, Friday night they co-slept at her sisters, Saturday was a bad sleep for both Zander and Zola so they spent the whole night with Iddy in bed. Finally last night, Iddy was too tired from the night before. She didn’t care where they slept as long as they slept so she could sleep. 

She bends down so she’s on his level when she speaks to him. “Okay, I understand sleeping in a new place by yourself. It can be scary huh?” phrasing her statement as a question on purpose. Zander mumbles something as a sort of agreement, nodding his head as well. “Okay, well why don’t we lay down together for a little while?” she asks, with the plan of getting up and going to her own bed for the night once he’s asleep. 

As soon, Zola realized her mama was staying in the room and giving snuggles to her brother, she demanded attention. Standing up in her crib, babbling away, Iddy knows it doesn’t mean anything but also knows if she had the words she would be cursing Iddy out. This leads to all three of them cuddling in Zander’s bed. 

Jack arrived around 2 am, and he’s never been more grateful to be at his destination. Even with the medicine they got from the vet, Luna cried almost the entire twelve-hour car ride. Plus, anytime Apollo saw anything remotely interesting he barked, Jack didn’t know a dog could find so many interesting things. The worst part was that Jack couldn’t even drown them out with music, he tried but it only made them louder, around the eighth hour he gave up entirely. 

Jack didn’t want to park in the garage since he knew the sound would probably wake the kids up, which would wake up Idris. The last thing he wanted was a pissed off Idris because he was being “lazy about walking a couple more steps.” Jack shakes off the memory of her saying that last year to him, and steps out of the car stretching after so many hours. 

After letting Apollo use the bathroom, he grabs the cat carrier and the three of them start to make it inside. Jack kind of expected them to run off when they got inside, which they did. The part that kind of took him off guard after using the bathroom, and slowly making his way up the stairs to the kids room to check on them was to find Apollo and Luna already half sleep on the bed with all three of them; Zander, Zola, and Idris. Slowly he made his way out and stopped in the closet bedroom beside his own which happened to be Luke’s and grabbed the comforter. Quietly he made his way inside and laid the blanket on top of them, he was just about to leave when he heard his son, “daddy?” he calls out, and Jack silently curses that he woke up his kid. 

Turning around and getting on his knees again he whispers, “yeah buddy?” 

“Daddy home!” he says in his normal voice, which Jack hushes over. 

“Gotta be quiet Z. Mama and sissy are sleeping.” he whispers. “Plus Apollo and Luna.” glancing down at the end of the bed where Apollo is curled up, Luna not far from him. 

His son gasps in surprise, “ah, it’s like a sleepover.” Zander says, ‘sleepover’ it’s the word they use when they are trying to explain to their barely 2-year-old how cool it is to have a sleepover with ‘just mama’ or ‘just daddy.’ It definitely wasn’t the best explanation, and although Idris and Jack realize that in hindsight there isn’t much anyone can do. 

“Yeah, a big sleepover.” Jack whispers, a slight sad grin on his face as he pets his son’s hair, dipping down to forehead to give him a kiss. “Goodnight. Love you.” Jack goes to get up, but Zander grabs his arm and stops him. 

“Want daddy cuddles,” he whispers. 

“Z, you have mama cuddles right now we can cuddle tomorrow.” he promises. As much as he would love to go to sleep with his family, he doesn’t want Iddy to wake up uncomfortable. A part of him knows that’s pushing the limit too far, too fast, and he doesn’t want her pulling away even more than she already has. Hell, they didn’t even sleep in the same bed the last six months they were together, Jack definitely knows it’s some kind of crossed boundary if he crawls into bed. 

“Daddy. Sleepover too” Zander is doing that thing, what twitter calls “famous Hughes pout” Jack thinks. Jack really meant no, but he also knows if he says no again, Zander will probably stop whispering which will definitely wake Iddy and Zola up then Idris will definitely be mad at him. 

“Okay.” he says, pulling the comforter up and laying next to his son, thankfully they got a full size bed but as Jack lays down he’s thinking they should have gotten a queen. 

“One big sleepover.” Zander mumbles into his neck, content to be between both of his parents. Jack rationalizes his decision by telling himself that it’s the lesser of two evils. If he said ‘no’ Zander was going to wake up the entire house and Iddy would be pissed. But if he crawls into bed, Iddy might be upset that he crossed a boundary even if he was pressured into crossing it. Jack tells himself that either way Iddy will be upset, but dealing with an angry ‘got 8 hours of sleep Iddy is a lot easier to stomach, plus he gets to cuddle with his son, so basically it’s a no brainer to Jack. 

“Yeah bud, one big sleepover.” he mumbles as he drifts off to sleep. 

Tuesday December 24, 2024

Idris is the first one to wake up, she feels that Zola has moved she’s no longer laying down tucked into her side and immediately she’s up ‘mama bear’ fully activated. Thankfully she’s just at the end of the bed playing with Luna, and even if she wasn’t in the bed, the bed is on the ground so she wouldn’t get hurt if she climbed off of it. Realizing her daughter is safe, she takes a deep breath, her heart rate slowly coming back to a normal pace, until she turns her head and sees Jack and Zander curled up together. 

Idris truly doesn’t know what she feels except anger at the fact that Jack just decided to crawl into bed with them last night. But, she also reminds herself that it’s Christmas and she doesn’t want to fight with him and ruin Christmas for her kids. Gently she removes the comforter that Jack must have brought in for them and climbs to the end of the bed where Zo is. “Good morning princess.” she coos, “why don’t we let the boys sleep and go make some breakfast? Are you hungry Zozo?” 

All Zola does in response is giggle and clap her hands. Iddy decides that’s good enough and scoops her up as she stands, both Apollo and Luna following them out hoping to get an early breakfast. Idris goes downstairs, lets Apollo out, and makes a morning milk for Zola. Idris goes ahead and puts Zola in the playpen in the family room while she moves around the kitchen feeding both animals, and making her morning cup of coffee. She’s happy she’s at the lakehouse and can indulge on Quinn’s fancy espresso machine. 

As she opens the fridge she hears baby feet stomping down the stairs and hears Zander walk slowly into the kitchen. He has his baby blanket in one hand, his hair an absolute mess as he nudges in Iddy’s leg who is still in front of the open fridge looking for what to make for breakfast. 

Iddy’s hand goes to the mess of curls on top of his head. “Morning Z.” She greets him still not looking at him yet. Zander makes some kind of groaning sound as an answer, never been a morning person just like Jack he needs to ease into his day. 

“I was gonna make breakfast, do you wanna stay in here or go lay down on the coach and watch cartoons with sissy?” she asks him softly, finally looking down at him. 

Zander seems to really think about the offer before he says “cartoons. but first morn’ kisses .” The sleep is still evident in his voice. She scoops him up and carries him to the family room, turning on the TV and putting some random cartoon on. Gently she goes to put Zander down the coach, kissing his cheeks super fast to give him his “morning kisses.”

By the time she goes to the kitchen to make breakfast and feeds both kiddos Zander has decided he’s wide awake and ready to go wake up Jack. Glancing at the clock and seeing it’s barely quarter after 7. “Z, you can’t go wake up Daddy, he came in late last night, he needs to sleep.” 

Before Zander can respond they hear rustling from upstairs, and Zander runs to the bottom of the stairs and even opens the baby gate before Idris can catch him. Thankfully he still likes to crawl up the stairs and he didn’t have to crawl far since Jack met him halfway. 

Jack picks him up and lightly tosses him in the air, Zander squeals in happiness as Jack walks them into the kitchen. 

“I didn’t make you breakfast, I didn’t think you would be awake yet.” Idris says standing at the kitchen island not even looking up from her phone. Idris knew she was being petty but she also couldn’t bring herself to care. Jack last night did what he always does ‘whatever he wants’ with no regard to how other people would feel about his actions. 

He sets Zander down, who immediately runs off to the family room to play with Zola. Jack walks around the counter to meet Idris, facing her he says quietly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry about last night.” Jack gently raises his hand from resting on the counter, as if he’s debating if he wants to reach out and touch Idris' arm. 

“We can talk about it later.” 

Jack started to explain himself anyway “It was Zander he-“ 

Idris snaps quietly at him, “That’s real rich Jack, always blaming someone else, even your 2-year-old son. And I said we can talk about it later when the kids aren’t 20 feet away.” 

No one else is set to arrive until around 5 tonight even Jack’s parents, as much as they love their son and adore their grandchildren and Idris. They all decided - more like Luke warned them about how bad it’s been with the bitterness and overall pettiness - it would be best if they came later because they know they are less likely to fight if they don’t have anyone to distract the kids, well they hoped. 

Thankfully both of the kiddos were pretty much on the same nap schedule so they both went down around 10 am. Jack gulped his body suddenly tense as he exited the kids room with Idris. He really wished it was one of those days where he joined the kiddos for naptime just so he didn’t have to go downstairs and fight with Idris. 

Idris grabbed the baby monitor on her way out of the room, slowly making her way down the hall and down the stairs. Jack followed behind like a child who knew he was about to get scolded or a dog with his tail between his legs looking down, nervous about what’s about to come next. He followed her all the way to the kitchen before she turned around and gave him a look as if to say ‘what the fuck Jack?’ 

“Idz, let me explain.” He speaks gently, raising his hands up as if he’s already surrounded by raising the white flag. Jack thinks if he goes on using her nickname, it will soften her, possibly maybe a little. 

It does not go the way Jack was hoping for, “Don’t Hughes.” she grits out of her teeth. ‘Fuck she’s more pissed than I thought’ Jack thinks to himself. “Don’t call me that when I’m pissed at you, it isn’t going to help you.”

“I’m sorry I am. But Zander woke up when I came to check with the kids, and he asked for snuggles. I told him that you were already cuddling with him. But he was insistent, okay? And I hadn’t seen them in a few days plus I knew if I said no he would probably throw a tantrum and he would wake you and Zo up. Okay. So I decided it was the best option. I know you probably think I crossed some kind of line with where we are at. But I’m not sorry for giving into Zander, even if it made you pissed at me.” Jack explains as he watches her expression soften which Jack is grateful for. 

“You did cross a boundary. I only accidentally fell asleep in Zanders bed with them. I was trying to get him to not co-sleep for the first time in days and I ended up falling asleep with them.” Iddy turns her head slightly, and stares off a little looking deep in thought. Jack really wants to step into her space, he wants to gently grab her chin and force her to look at him, he wants to force her to tell him what she’s thinking.Even though he knows it’s technically not his place anymore, he still wants to.  But he doesn't, he just chews the inside of his mouth giving his mind something else to concentrate on. After a minute or so, she turns to him, “let’s unpack the car while the kids are asleep.” 

They work in silence bringing everything in and hiding them in the basement closet they know the kids will never open. They even build the mini stick goal in complete silence, it would impress others watching two people work in that degree of harmony without speaking. Although, Jack thought to himself about how it was only like this because of everything that’s happened. For better or worse, they learned how to work in silence long before Idris left and it wasn’t because they were so comfortable with each other. It was because Jack was so angry that anytime he spoke to Idris they yelled, and Idris stopped trying to beg Jack to try, so they learned how to work together, raise two kids without even speaking for almost 10 months. 

—---------------------------------------------------------

Once the kids wake up from their naps the pair seems to be able to find their voices again as if nothing happened during the kids naps. They spend the rest of the day playing with the kids, letting Zander run the show in how they spent the day. From playing mini sticks, to playing outside on the playset or jumping on the ground level trampoline. 

Around 3 though Idris reminded Zander that they still needed to bake cookies to leave out for Santa tonight. Zander loves baking with his mom, so he was content with not playing outside anymore and instead drinking hot chocolate and baking cookies with his mom. Zola is a little young at 19 months to care about baking, so Jack and her play in the family room. 

The house is filled with giggles from both kids, Christmas music playing lightly in the background, the Christmas lights glowing from the tree and the smell of sugar cookies baking in the oven. While the cookies were baking they decided to throw a Christmas movie on and of course because Zander is Jack’s son he picked ‘Home Alone’ to watch. Jack reminds himself to enjoy this, enjoy that they are snuggled all together on the couch watching his favorite Christmas movie with no tension. While Idris is hoping that the lightness in the air can stay until after tomorrow night but she has a feeling in the back of her mind that it probably won’t. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

“Mama look.” Zander demands, as he displays one of his finished sugar cookie decorated with so many globs of icing and sprinkles, she already knows she’s going to make Jack eat that one tonight. 

“Wow baby. It’s beautiful.” she smiles wide at him.

She sees in the corner of her eye chuckling as Zola sits well more stands in his lap. Zola didn’t seem to understand the concept of decorating the cookie, as she had icing all of her hands and face giggling, she was signing for ‘more.’ 

“No.” Idris says, signing ‘no’ as well, to which Zola starts aggressively signing ‘more.’ Jack can’t help but laugh as Idris signs inresponse ‘no. all done. All done.” Idris doesn’t even speak because she knows she doesn’t have to for Zola to understand what she’s saying. Zola tries to reach for the plate to grab another cookie but Zander beats her. 

“Mama said all done Zola. These are for Santa” in the most serious voice a 2-year-old can have. Jack just laughs at the fact that not only did Zander also cut off his little sister, but how he did it,  even as Zola turns to him, grabbing onto him fussing thinking he will give into her. 

“Not this time Zozo. I know cookies taste good though.” she whispers as he rubs her back, and comforts her, even if he’s still laughing with Idris about Zander cutting her off. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

As everyone arrives the house becomes a loud, energetic place. Zander convinced both his uncles and Grandpa to play mini sticks with him, which Idris didn’t even realize they had that many mini sticks at the lakehouse. Of course, none of them are the mini sticks Zander asked Santa for Christmas. Ever since he learned that his dad was getting a custom mini stick from Bauer Hockey, he asked Santa for his own which would have been easy for Jack to ask for. But no, Zander didn’t like that it said J.Hughes on it, since his nickname wasn’t ‘J’ it was ‘Z.’ So he wanted it to say Z.Hughes. Thankfully, Jack was able to convince them to make two custom mini sticks, and even put them in the black mystery paper for him, if he put it on his instagram story Christmas Day. 

While the boys were all busy playing mini sticks with the kids, Ellen and Idris were in the kitchen. As Idris pours both Ellen and herself a glass of wine, she hears Ellen ask her if she’s okay.

“What?” she asks in a daze, maybe she didn’t hear Ellen right. 

“Are you okay honey? I know I’m Jack’s mom but, you can still talk to me you know. Although, I was never a single mom per say, Jim was gone so much when the boys were little sometimes it felt like I was. I know you have your mom who was a single mom you can go to for advice but I just wanted-.” 

“Ellen.” Iddy cuts her off, gently setting both wine glasses down. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine really.” Ellen gives Idris a look as if she knows that Idris is full of it, but doesn’t push, just nods her head. Before either of them can speak they hear a high pitched cry and Apollo barking loudly from the family room and both of them take off. 

Idris runs into the family room to see Zander holding his arm, fully crying in Jack’s arms. As soon as he sees Idris, he no longer wants Jack, only his mom, a true mama's boy. As Idris kneels down to her son, he slams into her body. “Shh. it’s alright. What happened, love?” she asks her son as he forces himself as close as humanly possible to her his high pitch screaming not lessening. 

“What happened?” Ellen asks the men in the room in that voice you never want to hear from your mother no matter how old you are. 

“He got hit with a puck.” Luke mumbles as he picks up Zola so she doesn’t get too close to the young parents while they try to calm down their son. 

“A foam one right?” Ellen asks. 

“No.” Jim answers. 

“What?” Idris asks the adults around her, refusing to look at Jack. 

“We couldn’t find any foam ones, so we thought we would use an outside hockey puck. I told them to be careful but Zander is so jumpy, I guess when Quinn shot the puck, he moved at the last minute and it hit him.” Jim explains. 

“It was an accident.” Jack mumbles as Zander is finally just sniffling. “Hi lil’ man.” he whispers to his son, who has barely left the comfort of his mothers arms, ever so slightly tilting his head to see his dad. 

“The good news is that it can’t be broken, Quinn didn’t shot it that hard.” Luke comments, and then immediately shut up when he was met with glares from everyone else in the room. 

Quinn bends down to Zander, “hey buddy I’m so sorry.” Jack can tell that Quinn feels like shit for it, but he doesn’t care he hurt his son all he wants to do is punch Quinn in the face a couple times. 

“Iz otay.” Zander whispers and Quinn sadly smiles back at his nephew. After Idris and Jack both looked over Zander’s arm without his long sleeve shirt on in the bathroom, they knew he was just gonna have a nasty bruise but that was about it. 

The Hughes family has this tradition that Idris has just decided to roll with when it comes to Christmas Eve dinner. Idris grew up in a family where they had to dress up and all the aunties, uncles, and grandparents came over. The expectation for you to be on your best behavior in your best Sunday clothes which were also usually the mist itchy clothes. The Hughes were the complete opposite, every year they ordered pizza in and just bumped out on the coaches watching movies. 

So that’s what they did, Zander didn’t leave Idris’ arms and neither did Zola. Both of the babies are perfectly content in their moms arms and no one else's. It was kind of a pain for Idris to help both of the kiddos eat when they were so physically attached to her. But anytime Jack tried to help by peeling one of them off, they whined and batted his hand away. Everyone could tell it hurt Jack’s feelings, his dad slapping his shoulder almost trying to comfort him. 

Sometime during the movie, Zola fell asleep. It was somewhere in the middle of ‘The Elf’ where Buddy is decorating the apartment and eating maple syrup pasta for breakfast that Idris’ phone buzzes. Gently she grabs it out of her pocket and sees that it’s her boss calling her, immediately she gently removes the limbs of her Zander off of her getting up and handing a sleeping Zola to Ellen on her way out the family room. 

“Hello.” she answers the phone, standing in the hallway that leads to the stairs going upstairs. 

“Hey glad I caught you. Remember that client Samson that wanted that painting for his wife for Christmas?” he asks sounding rushed. 

“You mean for her birthday?” Idris asks kindly trying not to come out and tell her boss he’s wrong. 

“Yeah yeah same thing anyway, the artist finally agreed to the price today at 500k.” 

“Wow, that's great, I know Samson will be happy.” 

“Well that’s the problem,” after a pause her boss continues “that’s kind of why I’m calling.” 

“What?” she doesn’t try to hide her anxiety.

“Well Samson has apparently decided that it’s not worth 500k and the artist barely agreed to that price so I need you to convince Samson it’s worth it.” he explains as if it’s just a regular Tuesday morning in the office. 

“On Christmas Eve?” she asks. 

“Yeah. It’s one phone call " Iddy come on.” sounding like it’s not a big deal at all. 

“Okay.” 

“Perfect. But he can’t do it tonight, it’s going to be the day after tomorrow around 2 pm. I’ll tell Sarah, my new secretary, to email them to you.” 

Idris can’t help but joke, “what happened to Kennedy?” she chuckles, knowing it’s an on-going joke that the only woman who can stand working for him is her because he doesn’t hit on her. 

“Didn’t work out. Anyway Merry Christmas. Send the kiddos my love. Jack too.” 

“Haha, very funny William.” sounding as sarcastic as possible as she hangs up the phone. 

Before she can even put her phone back in her hoodie’s pocket, she jumps up at the sound of Jack behind her. “Seriously Idris. You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Jesus Jack you scared me. What are you even talking about?” Idris doesn’t bother hiding the tiredness in her voice, it’s been a long day and it will be an even longer.

 “You left watching a movie with your family on Christmas Eve to gossip with William.” his arms are crossed in that way where it’s not because he’s annoyed, his jaw slightly clenched. 

“Zola is asleep. Zander was half asleep when I left. So yes I stepped out to take a phone call when it’s a movie I have seen no less than a 100 times.” Idris was matching Jack’s annoyed expression not in the mood for whatever she knows he’s about to imply. 

“That’s not the point.” slightly raising his voice, it doesn’t go unnoticed to Idris that someone in the family room turns up the volume of the movie. 

“Then what is Jack?” she asks.

“The fucking point is that it’s always him. It’s like he has this power over you even if your kids aren’t above it!” He’s now screaming and any chance Idris had of not also raising her voice is over. 

“That’s not even close to the truth and you fucking know it! I’m not sure what the fuck you’re trying to imply Jack but it’s wrong!” 

“So you don’t care more about your career than you do us!” he yells at her. 

“No! I don’t. But the same argument could be made for you, Mr.hotshot hockey player!”

“You don’t seem to mind about my hockey player money.” he retorts back, he has that smirk on his face like when someone knows an insult they just spit out sticks. 

“Oh my god! Were not even together and were having the same fucking fight! It’s insane!” she yells storming out of the hall to climb the stairs two at a time, but Jack is apparently not done. 

“So that’s it?” he yells at her as they climb the stairs. 

“Yeah that’s fucking it Jack! You know I’m done, you know I love my job just like you do. You know I love being a mom. But you also know I was hesitant to come here, but I love being a mom so bad I decided to spend my first Christmas single in years with my ex-boyfriend and his family so my kids can have both their parents for Christmas. So don’t tell me I put anything above those babies again asshole.” Idris turns to walk down the hall to the guest room she’s been staying in. 

“Ex-fiance. Not boyfriend.” he can’t help but point out, it’s like a sickness, the way even when she hasn’t been his for almost 3 full months he still needs to stake his claim to her. 

“God of course that’s what you got out of that.” she mumbles as she slams the door behind her. 

Jack makes his way back downstairs, kind of surprised that Zola stayed asleep during that, she’s still snuggled up on his moms chest. Zander has since climbed into Quinn’s lap for cuddles, it doesn’t really surprise anyone he is becoming the favorite uncle whenever he’s around. “Don’t” he mumbles as he falls into the coach where Idris was sitting, Luke next to him. 

“Oh bro. I wasn’t planning on it. That’s what mom and dad are for.” he whispers as a response. 

“Daddy?” Zander asks from Quinn’s lap. 

“Yeah Z.” he asks, trying to hide how angry he is from his son. 

“Where's mama?” 

“She has a headache bubs, so she went to bed early.” 

“Oh” is all he responds with leaning back into his uncles chest. 

“You always have been a shit liar.” Luke mumbles which earns a slap in the back of his head from Jack. 

After a couple minutes, Jack can see that Zander and Quinn are whispering amongst themselves not really watching the ending of the movie. If Jack took an honest survey of the room no one was really watching the movie, as if everyone was on edge waiting for the next shoe to drop. 

Zander slowly shimmies his way off of his uncle's lap and goes to make his exit. “Where are ya headed Z?” Jack asks. 

“To give mama snuggles. Like she does to me when I feel sick.” he tells his dad before he’s off dragging the same baby blanket he left on the coach this morning back upstairs with him. 

“Well I think we're headed to bed as well.” Jim announces. 

“I can put Zola to bed Ma, hand her over” Jack offers but is waved off as she stands and they leave the room. 

After a couple minutes of the brothers sitting in silence Quinn’s the one to break it. “I know you guys are separated, but it must be a new low for your son to comfort Idris when you're the one who made her upset.” 

“Will you shut-up you hurt my kid tonight I outta kill you.” Jack grinds between his teeth.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Idris hears a knock on her door and decides to ignore it knowing it’s probably Ellen or one of Jack’s brothers coming to check on her. “I’m fine” she groans back, turning away from the door. She can hear it click open and says “Luke I’m really not in the mood.” 

“Mama” she hears Zander say and suddenly she’s sitting fully up starring at her son at the side of the bed. 

“Hi honey. Is your arm feeling better?” she asks. 

“Yeah. Daddy said you your head hurts.” he mumbles softly as if not to speak too loud to hurt your imaginary headache anymore than it already would be and Idris heart melts at the gesture. 

“Yeah, just a little. I’ll be okay.” reaching out to gently push the baby curls out of his eyes, suddenly thinking about the fact he needs a haircut. 

“Want snuggles? Like when I’m hurt you give snuggles” he asks shyly looking up at his mom. 

“Always from you baby. Come ‘ere” As she picks him up and climbs under the covers with him enjoying her son cuddling with her. 

Jack went to check on the kids around 1 am when Idris and he agreed to meet downstairs to play Santa. When he peaked in he only saw Zola in her crib. ‘Z must still be with Idris.’ he thinks to himself. Idris doesn’t come down to help but who can blame her, he was kind of dick to her. So Jack carries up all the gifts by himself and puts them under the tree including the new goal and Zolas new walker toy. He eats all the cookies, even Zanders very very sugary ones and the carrots too, only leaving the stumps. 

Finally as he lays down he hears Zola crying. Sometimes she still needs a diaper changed in the middle of the night. Slowly he gets up and walks across the hall to the nursery to see Zola standing in her crib crying. “Hey Zozo.” he greets her as he flicks the light on and walks across the room. 

Zola did need a diaper changed, but once she did that she was still crying Jack wasn’t sure what was wrong and then signed for ‘mother.’ Idris was coming into the nursery anyway after hearing Zola not calming down. “Mama” she stretches, physically trying to get out of Jack’s arms and into hers. 

It hurt Jack more than he cared to admit, Zola was always a ‘daddy’s girl’ literally from the moment she came out of Idris. There were so many times when she was young that only he could calm her down, she really only ever wanted Idris if she was hungry as a newborn. 

“Hi honey.” she coos and immediately she stops crying. Idris walks over to her crib and grabs a pacifier. Zola glady takes it and leans her head on Idris’ shoulder. Jack stands off to the side feeling like chopped liver. As Idris tries to put her back in her crib she gets fussy again. 

“Okay okay. I get it. It must be scary sleeping alone. I don’t think you’ve ever done that before huh? Zander is already in my bed, wanna sleep with mama and brother tonight?” she asks in a soft voice that one would only use for a baby or small animal. 

Jack feels like shit still standing in the middle of the room, as Idris walks out the room carrying a very content Zola. All he can think about is how that’s the third time today his kids have picked Idris over him, and the second time tonight Zola specifically has. Jack never thought he would be jealous because his kids are giving more attention to Idris but he is, and that’s all he can think about as he attempts to fall asleep. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Wednesday December 25, 2024 - Christmas Day

Idris woke up to Zander shaking her awake, Idris has never seen him so excited in the morning, she grabs her phone and looks at the time 5:45 AM. 

“Santa came! COME ON MA.” He screams physically trying to pull her up. A very big contrast to how be is every other day of the year, but Iddy finds it cute. 

“Zander. Shhh. People are sleeping.” As she helps Zola out of bed, and lets her walk just holding her hand. Idris thinks it’s kind of amazing how kids wobble and then all of a sudden one day they can walk and talk like it’s nothing. 

“Santa came Zo! Come on, move faster.” Zander starts pleading with his little sister to move faster. 

Iddy can see how flustered Zander is becoming at how ‘slow’ Zola is walking down the hall,scared he might try to drag her down the stairs himself soon.  So she suggests “Z honey why don’t you go wake up Daddy and we’ll meet you downstairs.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice, sprinting down the hall screaming for Jack to wake up. Idris can hear a yelp from Jack from the stairs and can only imagine where Zander jumped him awake. 

Idris makes it down the family room, at the exact moment she hears Zander running down the stairs. His yelling must have woken everyone up, because behind Jack are both his brothers and his parents and Apollo bringing up the rear. 

Everyone lets the kids open their gifts all at once from Santa, it’s kind of heartwarming seeing how happy they both are. Apollo has decided to bring the wrapping paper to Jim who’s holding the trash bag. 

“Apollo. Are the kids too messy for you?” Iddy jokes and all he does is use his nose to nudge her leg as he passes her with another ball of wrapping paper in his mouth. 

Quinn laughing asks “did you guys teach him to do that?” 

“No” Jack breathes out in between his own laughing fit. 

Once the kids were done everyone opened their gifts from everyone all at once. Except for the gifts that Zander and Zola (Zander to be honest) picked out for everyone. Zander loved passing out his gifts - some might have been homemade - but Jack’s and Iddy’s were not. He stood in front of his dad practically blocking the view as he opened his gift. Now when Idris took Zander out shopping for his dad, she did not stir him in any sort of direction; she truly gave him free range to pick whatever ‘he’ wanted his dad to have. This is how Jack ended up opening a bag of pretzels and a pink beanie. In his defense, pretzels are Jack’s favorite snack (might also be his, so there might be a conflict of interest but Iddy didn’t say anything). The bright pink beanie was because “daddy only wears boring colors and pink is a fun color.” The beanie also has a tacky flamingo stitched on the front but Jack loves it anyway and puts it on right away. 

Now when Jack took Zander out he did not go with the ‘free range method.’ Now Jack did let Zander  wrap it,  Idris is pretty sure he used at least 2 rolls of tape alone because she had to use scissors to cut out the box. When she opened the box she found a new pair of knee high leather boots to replace her old pair. Nothing was wrong with her old pair but when she had Zola her feet grew in size and never went back down. She loved her knee high boots and was really sad she had to donate them. Even over a year later she hadn’t really found the time to replace that exact pair of other boots she could wear instead. But to see the exact pair, down to the brand and even the little pattern stitched in the heel made her gasp. 

“Do you like them mommy?” Zander asked unsure since she hadn’t spoken immediately. 

“I love them, baby. Thank you.” she whispers and as she hugs Zander she makes eye-contact with Jack who's across the room sitting in a chair with that dumb pink beanie on. She mouths ‘thank you’ to him and he blushes, quickly looking away. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly to everyone, the day was turning out to be pretty good. After presents, Idris, Quinn and Ellen made a huge breakfast for everyone. Everybody sat around the dining room table (the kitchen table not comfortable to fit everyone plus the kiddos) and ate. The meal was great, it was like the tension from last night was gone. After breakfast everyone sort of migrated to the family room, lounging around doing nothing, some Christmas movie on in the background no one was really watching. Quinn even made a comment to Luke about how he’s gonna win the fight since it was already 4 pm without Jack and Idris getting into a fight. All Luke said was “I don’t know about that big brother.” as he walked away stealing the last cinnamon roll on Quinn’s plate he had just warmed up as a snack, going to chase after Zander with his new nerf gun.

Idris was in the kitchen, finishing cleaning the dishes she was feeling too lazy to clean right after breakfast. Idris was enjoying the quiet around the loudness that was the Hughes family Christmas. As she was washing the last pan that had the cinnamon rolls in them she heard someone come behind her but didn’t think anything of it until she heard Jack’s voice. 

“Hey” he softly says. 

“Hey yourself.” she answers awkwardly, not really sure what Jack was looking for, maybe he wanted to hear thank you the present Idris thought to herself. Putting the pan in the drying rack and wiping her hands with a dish towel she turns“Thank you by the way for the boots.” 

Jack babbles out a quiet “yeah no problem.” his cheeks were just slightly more pink than they were when he came in. “Uh, can we talk?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck a nervous tic he’s never been able to grow out of. 

“About?” she asks confused about what Jack could possibly be thinking about. 

Somehow her answer must of satisfied Jack because he walks more into the kitchen standing directly in front of Idris leaning against the island, while she’s still in front of the sink. “Look about last night.” 

“What is there to talk about?” Idris doesn’t mean to sound as defensive as she does. But how many times can you have the same fight with someone before there is nothing left to add to the conversation. 

“Uh like about how you disappeared in the middle of the movie to talk to a precious boss who constantly calls you when he knows you are home spending time with the kids.” he might not have meant to scold her but that’s what it sounded like. 

“Oh my god Jack. I can’t believe you are coming in here and instead of apologizing you are just bringing up again how mad that I took one phone call about work. You act as if someone from the devils called you, you wouldn’t have taken it.”

“I wouldn’t.” 

Idris is nothing less than baffled at how Jack is acting right now. “That’s such bullshit and you know it.” Idris starts to walk around the kitchen as if she needed to give herself as much physical space from Jack as possible. 

“It’s not.” he defends himself before he adds, “Did you answer just because it was him?” The way he says ‘him’ Idris immediately knows what’s really bothering him, it’s not that she got up during the movie or even that she took a work call. No, Jack was mad because he was jealous. 

“Oh my god!” she sighs. “I can’t believe this. You’re mad at me because you're jealous.” she accuses Jack, but it comes out more as a statement - as if it was already confirmed as a fact - rather than an assumption. 

“I am not.” he snaps at her, his voice starting to get ever so slightly higher, as he walks around the island to be on the same side as her again. 

“You fucking are Jack! God I can’t believe this! We are literally again having the same fight and we are not even together anymore!” feeling so frustrated that she is starting to yell, running her hands through her hair as if it will ease some of the anger she is feeling inside. 

“God I am not. I’m mad that you prioritize work over our family!” 

“Bullshit. Fucking bullshit and you fucking know it!” she yells, not thinking about who else is in the house, or the fact that Zander and Zola are in the next room. “God that is so rich coming from you! How much of Zander's first 9 months of life did you miss? How much of me being pregant with Zola were you just.. gone Jack? Playing hockey?” 

“I was providing for this family!” he yells, his blue eyes as dark as the deep sea filled with his anger.

“I never said that you weren’t! What I am saying is that you can’t say that you also don’t work a lot of hours and are away a lot from the kids! You can’t sit there and point a finger at me when three are p[ointing back Jack! I’m done having this conversation with you. Whether you're jealous. Not jealous. I don’t care we’re broken up so there is no reason for you to feel some type of way. Or for you to come in here and yell at me.” Idris turns to walk away and leave the kitchen but stops at Jack's words. 

“Are you fucking him?” he asks. Idris is frozen and she is astonished at his accuration of her character.

“What?” she asks as she turns around, truly believing she heard him wrong because her Jack would never ask her such a thing or think that somehow she could be sleeping with her boss. 

“You heard me.” he snapped, stepping closer to her. “Are you dropping your panties anywhere you can for him like you use to for me?” his words spitting venom. 

“Fuck you.” Idris says she walks away just trying to get upstairs as far away from Jack as she possibly can because her watery eyes become full blown tears. 

Jack follows her, apparently not done with fighting with her. Dispute the fact that it feels like his words somehow felt worse than a bullet to the chest. “What no answer Iddy?” he asks. 

Idris was going to ignore him until she heard her son. “STOP.” he yells at Jack jumping in front of him kicking and punching him as hard as he could. “ALL YOU DO IS HURT MAMA. I HATE YOU.”

Idris can’t walk away from her son even if a tiny part of her loves him for it. She comes up behind him, picking him up from under his armpits and carrying him away somewhere. “Zander no. We do not hit people and we do not tell them you hate them.” Idris starts to talk carrying him up the stairs, still an angry ball of limbs yelling. 

“I DO HATE HIM. I DO” 

“We don’t use that word in this house.” they can hear Idris says before they hear a door shut upstairs.

Jack doesn’t move, he doesn’t say anything he’s frozen in place. Jack doesn’t even know where Zander learned that word, and it breaks his heart. His own kid, the one thing he loves the most in this world hates him? Jack knew that he preferred Idris over him, which was fine. But to hate him, to want him to leave. Jack was gonna be sick, he felt this deep need to throw up. 

“I-I I need some air.” he chokes out to his family standing around the hall and family room. Jack runs out of room to the back deck, he doesn’t stop moving until he’s leaning over the railing emptying his stomach of everything he ate in the last 12 hours. 

“Here.” Quinn says to Luke, handing him a 100 dollar bill. 

“Keep it. I don’t want it.” Luke mumbles climbing up the stairs, whether to go hide his room or check on Idris and Zander no one is sure. 

“I’ll go check on him.” Quinn says it at the same time Jim says “Imma check on Jack.” But Ellen stops both of them, gently touching both of them on the shoulder. 

“No, I got it. Why don’t you guys finish the movie?” She doesn’t give them any room for debate; they settle back into the coach. 

Ellen slowly opens the sliding glass door now in her boots and winter coat, along with a blanket she must have grabbed on her way out. Jack turns around to the sound of the door, Ellen can see his red rimmed eyes from crying, his blue eyes the lightest of shades it always is when he cries. “I don’t wanna talk.” he mumbles turning back out to look at the lake, he can’t see much because it’s so dark out but he tries anyway. 

“Okay, that’s fine. I'll tell you to listen.” she says in that tone only mothers can use on their sons, as she drapes the blanket over his shoulders. “He doesn’t hate you, you know that right Jacky?” she asks gently. 

“Uff. Could have fooled me.” he mumbles. 

“Jack, he's two. He doesn’t even know how to spell his name, he doesn’t understand what he’s saying.” she tries to gently let Jack see the truth. 

“I don’t know Ma, he never wants me anymore. Even when he’s at home with me he’s asking for Idris. I knew he was a mama’s boy and I was okay with that but he hates me. All he seems to do is fight me on every little thing. Honestly I’ve been a shit father, I would probably hate me too if I was him."He still hasn’t looked at his mom, he’s just word vomiting as he leans against the railing of the deck and  stares out to the land and the lake. 

“I’m gonna tell you a secret. It’s a secret every parent figures out at some point and no one tells anyone about parenthood. A child is their meanest self with the person they love the most. He loves you Jack, adores you even. All he does is want to be like you. And you know what you are?” she asks, he turns to her giving her look. “You are the biggest mama’s boy there is. Where do you think he learned how to be one? Or the fact that he wants to play center ‘cause my daddy does.’ The boy loves you. He just is little. And yeah kids bounce back, but you have to remember that you and Iddy being apart is also a very big change for Zander. And that boy doesn't like change. Kind of like someone else I know.” She gives him a pointed look. 

“Who me?” he jokes for the first time since she got out on the deck. 

As they turn to head back inside she says “just think of it this way.. It’s like a right of passage for your kid saying they hate you. Well except usually it’s during the teenage years..” She jokes as Jack wraps his arm around her side giving her a hug. 

“Can I just say one thing?” 

“What?” Ellen asks. 

“This is definitely the worst Christmas.” Jack admits. 

“Yeah well Christmas joy is overrated. Why do you think we did more to celebrate Hanukkah while you were growing up?” Both of them laugh and head inside, Jack does feel better after he talks with his mom. Maybe it is true what they say, you are never too old for a mom talk and a hug.

[rapidfever]

I like to come on here and check up on my favorite accounts to make sure y’all are still living and breathing and it’s such a nice reminder of my time here

[wildgirllz]

I'm not sure if you are familiar with the "mating press" position, but the little horny voice inside my head says that Tommy would absolutely love it. Just imagine reader having her legs on his shoulders while he pins her down to the bed because he needed to let off steam. Of course, this is completely consensual! Reader is willingly helping her husband out like the sweet housewife she is <3 Would you be up to write something like that? Sorry for being so disgustingly horny about him... (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Omg i love this request!! HAPPY 1K MY BEAUTIES!!!

Mating press with Tommy <3

Warnings: unprotected sex, SIZE KINK OML (I'm sorry I couldn't help myself) pnv, afab reader, he cums inside because he's a loving husband, overall just porn with a little plot

It was a sunny day, the warm Texan breeze on your shoulders as you washed dishes from breakfast. A hefty pile of dishes, Tommy was not a small man to feed. As the warm water eroded the bacon grease from your castiron, you heard some stomping from the yard. You smile, you can imagine how he was looking at that very moment; his mask covering half of his sweaty face, hair stuck to his forehead, shoulders wide and casting a big shadow over whatever he was blocking. His tall frame was delicious, his arms, his hands that held the majority of your torso already made you hot on the back of your neck.

Lost in a trance of your thoughts, you feel the warm water over your hands' sudden absence. You don't need to turn your head to identify the reason. You can already hear his little huffs behind his mask and his big meaty hands pawing at your hips.

“I missed you, Tommy.” You turn and raise your arms to place your hands on his broad chest. His fingers fidget with the red trim of your sundress, one of his favorites. “You like my dress honey? I like this one too, I wear it to ensure you stay grateful for this pretty little wife you got.” You giggle and cover his hands with your own, but only manage to shade a finger or two. 

“I made you pie again Tommy, peach crumble! It's right on the counter. Lemme cut you a slice.” You smile warmly before turning to walk to the countertop to your right, but you don't manage. Tommys' hands are glued to your hips, keeping you grounded like a statue on the floor. “You don't want pie, baby?” You ask, sweetly of course. You knew Tommy wasn’t focused on your pie right now, you knew from the second you heard his feet shuffling outside that he had some steam he needed to release, and you’d be damned before you said you didn't want him to take it out on you.

You look up at his lust-filled eyes and reach to untie his sweaty mask. You didn't like that he always felt he had to cover himself up, but you understood it brought more comfort to his everyday life. As the mask fell, you could hear his shaky breaths practically calling for you. You got up on your tiptoes and pursed your lips, so he reciprocated, bending his head downward and capturing you in a warm, desperate kiss.

His hands on your hips lifted your body off of the ground, unconsciously, making your face line up with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, not making it all the way, but you were stable as his hands moved down to cup your ass. You whimper into his mouth, grinding your little hips against his big tummy, and running your fingers through his messy hair.

He lets out a single huff before turning on his heels and taking you to the bedroom. After storming through the doorway, he tosses your body onto your’ neatly made bed and begins to undress. You take his cue and do the same, unzipping your flowy dress and slipping off your white panties. Leaning back in your bed, you take in Tommys' body, how the veins in his hands bulge as he unbuttons his shirt, and how tight his pants look on his thick thighs.

Once he's fully bare, he slowly stalks around the bed, looking you up and down like a piece of meat he’s longing to devour. Suddenly, he yanks you down by the ankles, making you lay flat on the bed. He pushes himself to his knees at the end of the bed, settled between your now parted legs. He shuffles forward a bit, then pulls you by the knees until your legs wrap around his hips. 

He bends forward, towering over your frame. He takes your legs and pulls your feet over each one of his shoulders. Your thighs are pressed to your stomach as he settles an arm on both sides of your head. His hair falls around your face, and you reach up to kiss his pretty pink lips. You feel his girth slipping over your slit, and you reach your hand down to press his throbbing cock to your little bud. He groans at the touch of your hand and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, covering his length with your slick.

Not long after, he begins to rock his hips against yours in tandem. His forehead touches yours and you can feel his warm breaths covering your face. On one of his slower thrusts, the tip of his cock caught on the rim of your hole, making you take a sharp breath in. Tommy looks at you to make sure you’re okay, then slowly slides his fat member into you without warning.

“Tommy! Jesus, baby slow down.” You whimper out. The intrusion makes your lips quiver and hands grip the sheets, so he takes your arms in one of his hands and moves them to wrap around his neck, immediately latching onto his hair. As he settles his hefty body on top of yours, his tummy pressing down tightly on yours, he pushes even further forward, trying to get as deep as possible.

Your moans turn into choked-out groans as he slowly pounds into you. Your toes curling and heels digging into his damp back. He lets out deep groans and uses his hand to wipe hair from your face. He cups your cheek and kisses you, a distraction from the ache of your stretched hole, struggling to accept his large cock. 

His thrusts pick up in pace, and he buries his face into your neck. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and he maneuvers your body to slam down on his cock in time with his thrusts. In a state of complete cock-drunk bliss, you struggle to let out a whine as you feel your peak approaching. Rolling your eyes back, you grip his hair between your fingers and give it a little tug, before feeling the warmth of your orgasm explode through your body in ripples of pleasure.

Your back arches and your legs shake, the feeling of your pussy clenching over his length makes him whimper, and his thrusts become fast and shallow. You whine at the feeling of him abusing your overstimulated warmth, and Tommy leans down to bury his face in your breasts and grips your hips almost bruisingly in his hands, quickly reaching his orgasm himself. 

He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you as close to him as possible before letting out one more deep thrust and filling you to the brim with his seed. He groans and flips over on his back, taking you with him. You lay over his body, feeling his cock softening inside you as his spend drips out. You both catch your breath and relax, his hands rubbing gently over your back. 

You close your eyes and let the cool air of night take you both to sleep.

feel free to leave requests! (get FILTHY.) <3

[lina-lovebug]

Sharkboy and his Shadow

Percy Jackson x fem! reader

Background: reader is the only child of Nyx, and has grown up with Percy. After being claimed, lots of kids are afraid of her, and reader feels alone. To 'help' Percy see the error of his ways, Luke and Annabeth come up with a plan.

_ _ _

"(Y/N) (L/N), daughter of Nyx, the Personification of Night, and Queen of Tartarus."

Ever since that day, (Y/N) had never felt so alone.

She grew up with Percy, always being by his side, and she felt lucky enough to see him be claimed by Poseidon. She was happy for him, and understood his rage at the same time.

But when she was claimed? There were no kids staring in awe or clapping or congratulations. There were only whispers amongst them, and stares of horror.

Because no one ever thought that Nyx would have a half-blood child.

She's Nyx. She keeps to herself, away from the affairs of Olympus and mortals.

So no one wanted to make friends with the forbidden girl.

Luke was still friendly, but it became obvious that he wasn't interested in being friends like before. Annabeth, however, still stayed by her side. She was the only one to congratulated her, and decided to explain to (Y/N) what this means now.

Not only was being a child of The Big Three forbidden, but being a daughter of Nyx? That meant more danger for everyone, and she'd become the main target for any monster who wanted her dead.

And to top it all off, she thinks Percy is avoiding her.

She hadn't seen him since she'd been claimed. She had seen him briefly during most days, but when she'd look and see him staring, he'd quickly move his gaze to the ground or the sky.

"If I thought that being a half-blood was so lonely, I'd never have come."

Annabeth felt bad for the girl, "it's not a choice, (Y/N). Nyx chose your dad for a reason."

"And yet all she's sent me is a fucking knife!"

(Y/N) yelled as she threw the dagger her mother sent her into the fire. Annabeth gasped, quickly retrieving the dagger with a stick.

The black dagger hadn't been damaged.

Before Annabeth could lecture the girl on damaging gifts from your Godly parent, she saw the tears in her eyes.

(Y/N) was angry. She'd been so angry that she started sobbing, sinking to the floor of her own empty cabin. Annabeth held her.

"I miss my dad," She sobbed, hiccuping, "I'm so alone. . .I miss Percy."

"Seaweed brain," Annabeth cursed.

Annabeth knew why Percy had been avoiding her.

Because he liked her.

Percy confessed this to Annabeth. He said he knew how important being claimed was to her. How she'd be the most sought after half-blood now.

And feared endangering her if he stayed too close.

"Tell you what?" Annabeth pulled away, "tomorrow, we'll have a girls night. I'll take you to Aphrodite cabin, and Silena will do your hair and dress you up."

She sniffled, "I doubt any of those girls want me there."

Oh, Aphrodite girls were secretly cheering (Y/N) on. They knew the consequences of having a powerful female figure in your life, but one that chose to never be present much.

"Silena does, and whatever she wants, the girls will follow."

(Y/N) didn't get much sleep that night, tears coming and going, and she only managed to find sleep when she thought of how Percy used to hold her. When they'd have sleepovers and she'd have a nightmare, Percy would always hold her until they fell asleep.

That's why she thought she was holding herself.

But her eyes deceive her.

With wide eyes, she jumped up but her head banged into the top bunk. The mystery boy awoke, asking if the girl was okay.

"Luke?! When did you-?! How?!"

"You're bleeding, (Y/N)," Luke ignored her sudden panic, helping the daughter of Nyx up. She checked her head and found some blood.

"What the fuck. . ."

Luke quickly dragged her to the infirmary, but not without notice. The few half bloods that were awake gasped, seeing Luke Castellan leaving the Nyx Cabin with (Y/N) in his arms.

And so did Percy.

"Hey, hey! What happened?" Percy called after them, catching up but hearing Percys' sudden urgency made her want to cry. He's been avoiding her for two weeks, but now he's worried?

"Put your hand on my shoulder," Luke whispered to her, and she gave him a look of confusion.

"Just do it, pretty girl," With an awkward blush, she nodded and, as a result, pushed herself closer into his chest.

"She hit her head. She'll be fine, go tell Chiron," Luke dismissed, leaving Percy with more questions than he had answers.

Why was Luke in her cabin? When did he get there? Why were you hurt?

Did he spend the night?

That last thought made the son of poseidon wish he hadn't been avoiding you all this time. It made him angry with himself that he let Luke become interested in you.

"So why were you in my room, Luke?" (Y/N) asked, holding an ice pack on her throbbing head.

"I left early this morning to check on you, and I know that Percy wanted to do that this morning. So, I figured that sharkboy might get a little jealous if he saw me in your bed," He explained with a shrug.

"Jealous?" She questioned with a scoff, "he's been avoiding me like the plague since I've been claimed."

"Did you think that because you've been claimed that he's avoiding you, or that he's avoiding you because he's scared he'll attract more monsters to you?"

"Luke, I don't have time-"

He cut her off, "it's bad enough that Percy got claimed the second day he got here. He's a forbidden child. Now, the girl he's been crushing on since diapers is the number one target of every monster out there."

"He. . .he doesn't like me like that," I said, feeling my face heat up.

Luke quirked his brow, "that's seriously what you got out of that?"

Despite her frustration and anger towards Percy, she could never despise him so much that her feelings would fade. She still cared about him and ultimately feared that her feelings couldn't be reciprocated.

"Look, if he doesn't seem interested or even the slightest bit jealous, I'll let you know," Luke knew Percy well.

In fact, Luke endured countless hours of listening to how Percy adored (Y/N). How Percy first realized that she wasn't just his best friend, or at least that's not what he wanted her to be. He wanted to be the one she sought out each morning - be the one she could lean on. As capable as she was, he still wanted to help her as much as he could.

He'd lift the entire weight of this off her shoulders if she asked.

(Y/N) had the beauty of the stars and Percy could spend the rest of his life happily staring at her.

"Okay," She nodded.

_ _ _

"Wait, I have two different outfits?"

"Of course!" Silena expressed, bringing out the second one, "this one is for our picnic tonight."

It was a gorgeous white dress that sagged off the shoulders, flowy and the top decorated with several types of flowers.

"Oh, okay," (Y/N) nodded, completely unaware that there would be no girls' night.

Just a really good plan to help force these desperate lovebirds together.

"If this doesn't get him staring, then he's blind," Silena concluded before popping on some lip gloss onto the daughter of Nyx. She could admit, she looked very pretty but her stomach became a bundle of nerves when thinking about how Percy may either ignore her and or she'd finally unblind herself to the longing looks of the son of Poseidon.

She walked out of Aphrodite cabin right as lunchtime came, and she received multiple stares as she made her way.

"How's your day been?" Luke came up behind her, swinging his arm around her shoulders.

"Honestly I still think you're crazy," She confessed, "Percy doesn't-"

He pecked her cheek without warning before whispering, "Look ahead".

And she has never seen Percy look so angry.

He clenched his tray with the fury of a God, denting it even as she looked at him. He quickly looked away, retreating back to his cabin.

Oh my God's. . .

"Percy likes me."

"Now, tonight-where are you going?!" Luke shouted as she chased after him.

She flung the door open to see his sea blue eyes filled with tears. "Oh Percy."

"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you," He immediately confessed, walking towards her, "I would never be scared of you. I'm scared of what my presence will bring to us. I'm already a target, and I didn't want to risk your safety. But I let Luke get close enough to. . ." He stared into her eyes, "I've liked you since we were eight, and I'm sorry I let my thoughts get ahead of my feelings."

"It wasn't my idea," She couldn't stand to see her sweet boy cry, "Annabeth wanted to make you jealous, make you regret ignoring me, but I didn't believe that you liked me. I never thought that you saw me as anything more than a friend."

(Y/N) grabbed his hands, "I like you, Percy. Gods, I've liked you since the first time you shared your mom's cookies with me. You're so kind, you're selfish beyond any God, and you're the sweetest. I was scared that my mother being Nyx might have pushed you away."

His hand came up to her face, "not even the Gods above could separate the two of us."

His eyes glanced between her eyes and lips, hesitating.

"Kiss me, Percy Jackson."

And he did.

The kiss was something out of a movie. She could feel the amount of love he had for her, one hand remaining on her cheek while the other held her hand. She leaned into him, and he seemed to chase her lips as she pulled away for air.

"Not everyone can breathe underwater," She reminded him with a smile.

"I think we might lose a friend tonight," Percy said, and (Y/N) frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Luke put his lips on my girl. I'll provoke single combat," He pulled out riptide, and her eyes widened.

He gave her a quick kiss on her lips, "if you don't see me tonight, I'm drowning him."

"Percy!" He ignored her calls as he ran outside, running straight towards Luke, who laughed before realizing that Percy wasn't stopping and started running too.

"Is that Percy?" Grover asked as she walked outside, hearing the shouts coming from the forest of Luke trying to calm down Percy.

"Yup. Call Chiron, he might water board Luke."

But after Chiron managed to stop Percy, they spent the rest of the night in his cabin exchanging kisses and unexpectedly receiving a gift from her mother.

"What's this?" She questioned as the owl flew off, the small package being addressed to both Percy and her.

"From your mom, it looks like," He opened it up, and a necklace with a Triton pendant fell out. Just as he picked it up, it transformed into a black Triton that was covered in black shadows.

"Holy shit!" Percy breathed out as (Y/N) grabbed the note that fell out.

"Oh Gods," seeing her reaction, he bent down and read the note.

"Oh," He observed the Triton, "well. . .at least we know she cares."

Break my daughters heart and I'll kill you with that very Triton,

From your mother, Nyx.

[juletheghoul]

educational

a/n: I still have so many asks for this man, and I have not forgotten them! Thank you to everyone who voted, to everyone who takes the time to comment and reblog on my posts. You have no idea how you all have reinvigorated my love for writing, a million hugs and cuddles for all of you. I always welcome any and all comments and questions or deep dives! This isn't beta'd, barely proofread. Hope you enjoy 💕xo

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.3k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

The sun was oppressive. It beat down with a vengeance and the fan in your hand did nothing to alleviate the waves of heat permeating the market. You had half a mind to head right back to the villa, to ask Marcus to bring you on another day when you could focus on anything other than the drops of sweat sliding down your spine, making your new robes stick to your skin. Or the way the stiff leather sandals on your feet rubbed your ankles raw. 

Running back to the villa didn’t seem right however, it tasted too much of defeat, of a refusal to accept your new place in this world and the thought of your General, your husband being disappointed in your inability to shop for yourself put eels into your belly. Gritting your teeth, you continued your hunt for the things you needed. 

“What about this Domina?” Your new attendant, a girl a few years younger than you had been when you’d first joined his house pointed at a blessedly covered stall, golden trinkets glittering where the sun poked through gaps in the covering catching your eye. 

“Let us look.” You smiled, making your way over. There you found a lovely perfumed oil for your skin, at a fairly reasonable price. You also found some of the incense Marcus liked, and a new brush for his hair. You bought them, even though he had sent you with the intent to buy things for yourself. With your purchases made and in the hands of your guards you decided to finally return home, when another stall caught your eye. Gauzy sheer linens covered most of it but when the warm breeze blew them aside, glittering jewels flashed. 

The woman running the stall smiled when you entered, she had streaks of grey in her hair, lovely oiled skin and eyes as dark as night. 

Opals with fire caught inside them hung on golden racks, rubies the size of walnuts, emeralds as green as fresh laurel leaves glittered, all of them entrancing you enough to pull your hands out to touch them. 

“With your skin, those would look lovely.” She walked over, pulling dark blue sapphire earrings from their place on her wall and holding them to your ears. “Beautiful.”

“They are gorgeous, I must admit.” Marcus had told you to buy whatever you wanted, had given you enough coin to splurge but you hesitated. Your eyes fell to a small book on a shelf, a picture of a man and a woman on the cover. 

“That is… very educational. Especially for a married woman.” She pulled the book off the shelf, placing it into your hands for you to peruse. The contents made you gasp. It was a guide book, a guide for the art of love. The art of copulation. There were diagrams, positions to try, all manner of things you’d never even thought of. 

Heat rushed to your face, the thought of showing Marcus, of trying them with him made the heat grow and spread to the place between your thighs. 

“You must have it, I have no doubt your husband will enjoy it, you as well.” She winked and you laughed a nervous little laugh, nodding conspiratorially. 

“You should adorn yourself for him, something glittering, something precious.” She gestured to the jewels once more and you bit your lip, wondering what to choose until you saw what looked to be a belt of different coloured gems. 

“I like this–is it for my waist?” You slid your fingers across it. 

“That would be perfect, not just your waist my lady.” She undid the clasps and arranged it, draping it onto your body. “Usually the ladies wear them over a simple robe to elevate it, but I think it would look just as beautiful against the skin, if you take my meaning.” You could see it, the top part of it like a necklace, with a long line of gems between your breasts leading down to connect with another line of it like a belt. 

With an ache for him, and a considerably lighter purse, you left with your purchases and made your way home once more. 

-

He was occupied, held up in his study with representatives from the Emperor, a senator and a whole host of others taking up his time with important matters. You left him to it, and busied yourself with your own preparations.

The tub was steaming and fragrant when you submerged yourself. Dried flowers and sweet smelling oils swirling with every movement, all manner of different elements coming together to soften your skin and make you shine for him. Thoughts of what he would think of your book fill your mind as you cleanse yourself of the day, musings about what he might choose pull at the corners of your lips as you run the clean washcloth across the expanse of your chest and thighs.

You oil your skin once out of the tub, arrange your hair and adorn yourself with jewels. Golden bracelets and anklets he’d gifted you on your wedding night, an armband shaped like a snake, earrings that dangle and trap the light when you move, the special body chain from the stand. You feel like a goddess, like a priestess readying yourself for worship. 

By the time he comes to bed the need, the arousal is fierce enough to make your hands shake. 

“Apologies my love, I was hoping to have been done sooner but—“ he catches sight of you then, sprawled out on the bed, an airy robe leaving nothing to the imagination, the small book in your hands. His eyes devour you, robbing him of his words, making your heart race.

“I have something for you, something for us.” You rise, exaggerating the swing in your hips with every step you take towards him. Your adornments jingle, a pleasant sound rings with every stride. 

“Do you now?” He licks his lips, and presses his palm to his growing bulge at the sight of you. “I have something for you too, growing stiff and aching.” His hand reaches for you as you get closer, pulling you into his embrace. 

“I do not doubt that.” You laugh, pressing your palms to his chest to keep him from pushing you onto your bed.

“I would very much like to give it to you, nice and deep.” His eyes are so lust blown that the warm brown is now a cold black. A moan escapes at his words, at the feel of his kiss on your throat.

“First, I would like you to look through the book I bought today.” He frowns, confused at the apparent shift. “I believe it could be very educational for us.”

If you weren’t so aroused, so excited to experiment you might have laughed at his expression. Naked shock was all you could see on his face. Never, in all your years within the villa, within his presence had you ever rendered him speechless before. The effect is titillating.

Wordlessly he peruses the pages, cheeks flushing, attention rapt at the diagrams and instructions shown within.

“Gods above.” Your smile deepens at the low whisper of his voice, nerves fraying with anticipation. 

“I am particularly curious about this one.” With trembling hands, you flip the pages to a certain diagram, where the woman is sitting on the man's lap but facing away, her legs closed tightly between his legs underneath her. The thought of Marcus having you that way floods your body with heat. His mouth at your ear, his hands free to slip between your legs or hold onto the weight of your breasts. 

Silently he studies the book, eyes intent. His quiet intensity fills the air between you, it makes you wring your hands with nervous anticipation, almost makes you wonder if you’ve gone too far. Your nerves fray the longer he stares, the old fear of disappointing or upsetting him creeps up your spine, until he smiles and licks his lip. 

“You, my love, continue to surprise me.” He closes the book and sets it aside. 

“Do I?” You take his hand in yours, and press it to your lips, desperate for his approval and for his love.

“Oh yes. Just when I think I cannot be any more fortunate, you spoil me and show me another facet of your love.” He pulls you forward, guiding you to stand between his spread legs at the edge of your bed, pulling the robe off to expose your nakedness.

“Look at you.” His palms slide from the sides of your thighs past your hips where they touch the jewels that adorn your waist. Up, up, up until his thumbs flick at your nipples. 

“You are yourself, my most precious jewel. So beautiful–” He presses his face to your breast, his lips gliding across your skin between words, “-kind, adventurous and brave, sweet as summer fruit,” he skims his nose over the top of your breast before licking at the stiff peak. With a sigh you hold him close, fingernails scratching at his neck, slipping through the fine grey waves, cradling his head close. 

Your heart races as he pours his love onto you, any and all fears are quieted to nothing under the silky slip of his palms against your back. His mouth forms a tight seal around your nipple, enough that it makes you gasp. His smile is predatory, confident and it makes you laugh; half nervous, half exhilarated. 

Your breasts shine with the oil, and his spit when he lets go. You take the opportunity to pull his robes up and off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his manhood, hard and leaking for you. 

“Turn around.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, deep and commanding, irrefutable. His lips press to your shoulder, moving down to your lower back, you squeal in shock and delight to feel his teeth on the meat of your ass. 

“I could devour you whole, do you know that?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

The arousal is enough to choke you, enough to ease the glide of himself against your sex. Butterflies swarm as he pulls you back, guiding his own weeping tip to the tight fist of your cunt until you sink, slowly onto him. You gasp at just how deep, just how full you feel like this. 

“Gods above, woman.” His grip on your hips is tight enough to bruise, his voice strangled in your ear.

It is so much better than you had imagined.

His thighs bracket yours as you adjust to the fullness, slick dribbles out of you and drenches his lap when his hands do exactly as you hoped they might. With deft fingers he pinches and pulls at your sensitive nipples, teasing the peaks mercilessly as you begin a tentative bounce on his lap.

“Is this how you wanted it?” His breath tickles your neck, painting your skin in gooseflesh. 

“Yes, yes Marcus, just like this-“ your head falls back onto his shoulder, the arousal so fierce it burns through you, sets your heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird, trapped in the cage of your ribs. 

“Take it, take your pleasure from me my love, ride this cock—“ he bucks up, pulling a pained moan from somewhere inside you. 

“That’s it, you can do it, milk my fucking cock.” His arm tightens around your middle and you can feel the jewels pinching at your skin, the edge of pain only heightens the pleasure coursing through your veins, ripping a swathe through your body in the shape of him, always him. 

Thick fingers force their way between the tight press of your thighs, pinching at your swollen clit and it’s almost too much. Sweat beads in your hairline, slips between your bodies as you roll your hips harder, clenching around him with every tight bounce. 

There are no more words, only the harsh pant of his breath in your ear, the slick, vulgar sound of your wet arousal; the whimpering heralding your climax. 

His fingers leave your clit and you whine, the demand for them to return on the tip of your tongue but he quells it, pressing those same fingers into your mouth. He takes the saliva from your mouth, and returns his fingers to their task. The slip is just right and with a silent scream you freeze, squeezing him tight enough for him to hiss, tight enough to do just as he wanted and milk him for all he’s worth.

His grip around your middle softens, the jewels have left indents in his skin as well as yours, you pull his arm up to press your lips to it. 

Once the blood has settled and you’ve caught your breath, you pull away from him, turning to settle in his lap again only this time facing him. 

His expression is pure bliss, flushed with exertion and smiling with the ghost of his climax still painting his features. 

“I must send you to the market more often, spoil you as you spoil me.” You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck just as his wrap tightly around your waist.

“So you are pleased with my purchase then?” Your lips press to his mouth, his cheek, the little hairless spot on his chin, your favourite constellation to map out. 

“I am more than pleased with it, but I must study it in depth. So many things to try, so many lessons for us to learn from this book, hmm?” He skims his nose across the column of your throat, smiling into your skin as your heart races for him even with your pleasure still coursing through you. 

“…And you know that I am a quick learner, my love.”

-

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[kingkatsuki]

— sleepy

I’m still deciding how to characterise him because I feel like he’s got so much depth😫

Togame hates having his naps interrupted— unless it’s by you.

Pairing: Togame Jo x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, dirty talk, established relationship, handjobs, cockwarming, lazy sex, one spank, dick riding, creampie.

Word Count: 2.1k.

Togame Jo is handsome like this. Thick brows softened behind circular glasses as his dark lashes tickled the lenses, eyes shut softly as his chest rose and fell steadily with the rhythm of his breathing. His yellow Shishitoren jacket is strewn over the back of the couch, sandals are kicked off on the floor as he spreads his thick thighs.

You’re happy to feel him half-hard when you settle yourself on top of him, plush thighs on either side of his hips as you press your weight against his crotch. You’d expect him to wake with a jolt if you didn’t know him any better, so used to having to stay alert to avoid the conflict from Furin or any other rival gangs that may filter into unknown territory. But Togame already has you mapped out like the back of his hand, warm palms immediately smooth along the exposed skin of your thighs as his lashes flutter. Staring up at you through half-lidded eyes as he stifles a yawn.

“You ain’t ever lettin’ me nap, huh?” His voice is laced with sleep as calloused fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, shifting slightly beneath you as he feels the warmth between your thighs press against his crotch from the motion. The way you tighten your grip around his shoulders at the contact doesn’t go unnoticed. He slides his outstretched legs back in as he shifts you on his lap, bringing you closer to him.

“You can nap later” You tease, pressing a kiss to his lips as his tongue juts out to taste your lipgloss, “I missed you today.”

You loved having Togame like this— soft and vulnerable, a side of him that no one else got to see.

“I missed you too.” He hums, tilting his head against the back of the couch to get a better look at you as you grind yourself against his crotch again, “Oh? You missed me like that—” He feigns ignorance— he knows exactly what you want.

“Been thinking about you all day,” You admit, feeling your skin flush as the heat inside you continues to rise, a neglected throb pulses between your thighs as your cunt begs for attention.

“Ah, so that’s the real reason you woke a sleeping man up, hm?” He pretended to grumble, his fingers already dipping into your thighs in response, “Tell me what you need?”

“Need your cock, Jo,” You mumbled, leaving glossy kisses against his jawline, “Please?”

“Take whatever you want, sweetheart.” He goads, “It’s yours.”

You love when he indulges you, leaning back just enough to pull his pants down as he mutters complaints under his breath as he’s forced to raise his hips just enough to leave the fabric nestled around the curve of his ass. A soft pout appears on his lips that you can’t help but kiss away before you take in the sight of his cock, hot and heavy as it lays against his pelvis.

Gently taking him into your hands as you pump him softly, your thumb swipes at the bead of pre that pearls at the tip as you smooth it along the length of him. Togame is so pliant when he’s like this, allowing you to take the reigns and use him how you see fit.

“You’re such a tease,” He chastises, his head strewn against the back of the couch as your eyes follow the column of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs when you press your thumb against his slit, swallowing thickly as his hips jerk into your grip.

“I dunno,” You smile back, “You seem to like it.”

“Your hand’s wrapped around my dick, what’s not to like?” He drawls, squeezing your thigh gently.

“So why don’t you wanna fuck me?” You press, and you feel his grip tighten against your plush skin.

“Believe me, sweetheart,” He yawns, not bothering to cover his mouth as he flashes sharp canines, “I always wanna fuck you.”

“So why don’t you?” You pout, running your thumb along the underside of his cock.

“I just like seeing you needy,” Togame grins, and it has your brows furrowing in annoyance.

“I’m not needy,” You gasp in mock offence as you jab a finger against his chest, “You’re the one that’s been out fighting all morning.”

“You always need my cock to shut you up, yeah?” He ignores you with a dull smirk, staring at you with half-lidded eyes.

Togame his calloused palm along your thigh to the curve of your ass as he pulls your body against his, your face buried in the apex of his neck as he grips his cock steady. Giving himself a languid pump with a flick of his wrist as his other hand pulls your panties to the side, too tired to even attempt to undress you. His slender fingers curl around the fabric as he helps guide the tip of his cock towards your drooling hole, holding you steady as you meet resistance and begin to drop yourself down on his cock.

“Fuck,” You sigh as you feel the delicious ache of him stretching you out. Grinding your hips against him as you feel your body begin to relax and mould to him, taking inch after inch as he finally bottoms out inside you.

“Jo,” You murmur against the column of his neck, feeling him shift beneath you as he palms the swell of your ass, “Pay attention to me.”

“You always have my attention, sweetheart,” He replies, smoothing a palm along your spine as he holds you to his chest, “But it’s bedtime.”

“It’s four in the afternoon,” Your lips curl into a grin against his pulse point as he delights in the saccharine tone of laughter that tumbles from your lips.

Togame breaks off into a guttural groan that rumbles deep in his throat when he feels your tight heat clench around him from the rhythm of your laughter, a sound that vibrates all the way through his neck as you feel it against your lips.

“Yeah, see—” He agrees, tightening his grip around your frame to prevent you from grinding yourself down on his lap, “Bedtime.”

He tries to resist the urge to rut into you like this, to feel the blunt head of his cock carve away at your insides as you pulse and whine above him. Your fingers tease through the short hair at the back of his neck as you wriggle your hips in defiance.

“You never let me nap, woman.” Togame grunts.

“We can’t fall asleep like this.” You coo, warm breath fans his ear as you try to find purchase against his broad shoulders.

“Sure we can.” He counters, “Just close your eyes.”

Togame was certain he could quite happily die like this— the last thing he feels as he takes his dying breath is the sensation of your perfect walls wrapped tight around his cock. What better way to go?

“You’re so silly,” You scoff, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you continue to roll your hips above him, lifting yourself before dropping yourself down on his length as you deliberately press against his pelvis with each forward motion to add some friction to your clit.

You think he’s maybe falling asleep until he strokes his palms along your waist, mapping a path along your sides until he finds the curve of your chest. Pushing your shirt over your breasts as he palms them through the thin cups of your bra. The corners of his lips curl into a content smile when he feels you clench around him in response, your pace faltering when his thumbs graze your nipples. Feeling them pebble beneath his touch as he pulls the cups of your bra down to settle below your tits.

“You’re so pretty,” Togame mumbles, rolling the stiff peaks between his thumb and forefinger as you scoff.

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“I don’t have to look to know.” He shoots back, catching you off guard with a rough smack against your ass.

“Oh,” Your hips jerk, velvety walls clenching around him in response as you feel your skin begin to prickle under his touch.

“You’re always pretty.” He parts his eyes into a tired squint, just enough to adjust to the afternoon sunlight streaming into the room as he watches you. Using him for your pleasure as you keep a sloppy pace, hips rolling as his cock moulds you into the shape of him.

You reward him with a kiss— a slow sensual one with tongues clashing and swallowed breaths as a groan rises in his throat.

“Jo,” You mumble against his lips, “I’m tired.”

“Oh?” He goads, “You’re tired? When you woke me up to do this.”

“Please, Jo.” You plead, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth.

“I suppose I’ll have to do the work, huh?” He rasps, squeezing your ass playfully.

“Fuck me, please?” You whine, and Tokgame feels it. The way your walls tremble around him with desire, desperately trying to milk him of his seed as he feels your slick drool down to his balls. His eyes are still shut behind circular glasses as he moves his fingers to where your bodies are connected, stroking along the length of him that pokes out of your tight cunt to feel how wet you are.

“Fuck.” He groans, and you can tell that’s his final piece of resolve wavering.

You’re the only thing that makes him want to go fast— the pulse of your warm hole coaxing him further as he expels a deep breath. Togame’s grip on you tightens as he holds you steady, fingers dig into your hips as he starts a rough pace. The sound of skin against skin echos the room as he fucks up into you with vigour. The harsh movement has your breasts bouncing as you scramble for purchase, clinging onto the back of his neck near the base of his skull as you rest your forearms on strong shoulders.

He loves you like this— so pliant and at his mercy as his balls slap against the swell of your ass with each rough rut. Pulling the prettiest sounds he’s certain he’s ever heard from between your lips as you begin to crescendo, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of your climax as your walls clamp down around him.

“That’s it, baby,” He grunts, as his hips snap roughly, “I know you’re close.”

Pearly tears clump in your lashes as your nails dig into his scalp, the coil inside you dangerously close to unravelling as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each pronounced thrust, “Give it to me.”

And you do. Crying out his name as your toes curl and your eyes roll into your skull, euphoria washes over you as it’s all you can do but bask in the pleasure as a mind-numbing orgasm surges through you.

“That’s my girl,” Togame is quick to prolong it, his eyes open and intent on you through polarised lenses as he moves his thumb to rub at your puffy clit. Ignoring your pleas that it’s too much, you can’t— when he knows you can, and you will, “That’s my good fucking girl.”

Your body trembles against him as your second climax hits that much harder than your first. Convulsing against him you pull your face back from his neck, sitting upright as the pleasure wracks through you, flowing through your veins like an addictive drug as he watches you ride it out. Clenching around his cock as your cunt eagerly begs him for his release, wanting to feel every drop of it.

“Fucking hell,” He pants, holding you steady as he begins to use his grip on you to bring your body down to meet his thrusts. Forcing you onto his cock with each rough snap of his hips, “You’re so needy.”

It’s all you can do but sit there and take it as he uses you for his own release, barely managing a handful of thrusts before he reaches his peak. Holding your hips flush with his as he pumps spurt after spurt of warm, white cum inside your velvety walls. Coating you with his spend as he leaves you seated on his cock, basking in the afterglow as he feels your walls continue to pulse and throb around him as he keeps you plugged with his spend.

You whine when you try to pull yourself off him and his harsh grip stops you, leaving you positioned on his cock as he wraps his arms around your body to press you against his chest. Tucking your head onto his shoulder as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone.

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” He hums, his hands back to tracing lines against the curve of your spine, “You got what you wanted— now we’re takin’ a nap.”

[k0mmari]

SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN AU (Pt.2)

Pt.1

Im not done with this, so to the people that wanted more, here it is! I, fortunately or not, have thought way too much again, so once more this is going to be a very, very, VERY long post. If you guys have any ideas about this btw, please do share them! I really am just letting my mind wander a bit more than usual, so maybe someone else can have more structured thoughts than me lol. (Fair warning, there probably will be plot holes, so sorry in advance!)

Please read Pt.1 if you haven't, or this won't make any sense!

After SY warped away from his impromptu meeting with Binghe, the last place he would like to end up would be even deeper into the Endless Abyss, but according to his System, the next piece of the virus was here. While not happy, since his Personal System was (mostly) working as intended, SY managed to activate Ghost Mode and walk towards the next part without having to deal with any of the creatures down there. (He had to try very hard not to get distracted by the monsters, lest his supervisor thinks he also went missing.)

It takes considerably more time to find the virus this time, so much in fact, SY starts to recognize his surroundings from SQH's ramblings (not that he was interested or anything), and he feels a cold sense of dread running down his spine. There was no way he was that unlucky that the object that got corrupted this time was-

He was that unlocky. Lo and behold, after entering a run down ruin, SY is faced with the legendary Xin Mo, power so overwhelming it manifested as dark fire covering the blade. The only reason why SY wasn't immediately writhing on the ground from the sword's power was Ghost Mode, which he could not rely for too long, as his Personal System was displaying warning after warning about Possibility of Corruption and God Like Plot Point. It all meant that SY was on a timer, and if he took too long, the sword would start corrupting his System, which in turn could corrupt him.

Now, since this was a VERY important Plot Point, Luo Binghe had to find Xin Mo or else the plot would derail to an unfixable degree, SY couldn't just snip at it, which was a problem, since manual debugging took a considerably longer time! Still, he summons his Scissors and positions it so he can start at least trimming off the virus.

His plan immediately backfires however, as an ominous crack sounds through the air and he's suddenly pushed away from the sword by a gust of energy. A bit disoriented, he shakes his head and acesses the sit-

Xin Mo, the horrible sword it was, was apparently so OP that it seemed to detect the Scissors at the last second, and the thing attacked back! The metal of the Scissors was dark and broken where it came close to the sword, almost broken in half! Which, not good! It any other time, a pair of broken Debugging Sheers would be more or less fine, if not a major inconvinience (and pay deduction) for SY, but since he'd been warping all over the time for a while now, his Personal System's energy reserves were carefully rationed, and if he were to use a chunk to send the Scissors back for some emergency repair, he'd only have one chance to go back to HQ. Alone.

He couldn't delay it any longer, he desperately needed to find SQH and pray he still had some energy reserves left.

Setting his Personal System's next warp location to SQH's last known location, SY wouldn't have guessed in a million years that he would go back to Cang Qiong Mountain, but whatever; maybe SQH had wanted to start with fixing the bug on Binghe's pendant? Not that this was the right time since it was after Binghe fell into the Abyss, but SQH had never been good at warping. It takes a bit of wandering and going inside different buildings, but eventually his Personal System managed to get a dirrect ping on SQH's System, which sent a massive wave of relief rushing through SY, since it meant that SQH was still slive.

Though as to why he was at An Ding Peak, SY could only guess.

After a bit more wandering, SY enters on what seems to be a (very messy) office space, SY feels all the pieces coming together in his mind. Half sprawled across the table with piles of paper covering the entire table's surface lay the An Ding Peak Lord, which- was already weird, since wasn't this guy supposed to be an enemy of the Peak now? After the whole betrayal thing or whatever? But that would've been something to look into later, were it not for said Peak Lord casually scrolling through a Personal System screen. A Personal System that could only be used by the System's Maintanence Staff.

SY wastes no time in deactivating Ghost Mode, and when SQH's eyes snap to his, the man jumps so high from his chair he almost falls back. It's not a happy reunion by a longshot, since SY immediately jumped his friend co-worker and demanded an explaination, almost screaming about it was all his fault for doing shitty maintenence, and creating this shitty world if it's shitty OP sword which broke his Sheers? Do you know how expensive these are?? I know you do, cause the supervisor never lets you touch the good ones cause you keep cracking all the other pairs-

It takes a more or less one whole hour to calm down SY, but eventually the younger settled and lets SQH say his bit of the story: Apparently, in his messing around with the System's world creation program when he was trying to find the bug in his world, he'd accidentaly managed to get himself actually transmigrated to PIDW, though still with (limited) acess to his Personal System, which let him still send messages to their supervisor and pretend that everything was ok. He'd gotten so unlucky too! Out of all the people to accidentaly select, did it have to be the An Ding Peak Lord? Couldn't it have been Binghe? Or MBJ- (SQH cuts his lamenting when he notices SY's absolutely viscious death glare being stared right through his soul.)

Long story short, he'd initially did try to fix his blunder, but as more time passed and SQH's access to Maintenance priviledges went out one by one on his System, he eventually just... Started actually living there. In fact, he was living so well there that he dared say his life as Peak Lord was even better then when he was with the System! Of course, since he had been integrated as a 'character' now, he had his limitations, he actually managed to get to know his fellow peak lords! He knew the name of his character's family members and his disciples! He'd managed to build a life he never even thought he could have inside the System.

Sure, did he betray the Peak? Yes, yes he did. Were they all going to die in a few years time when Binghe came back from hell? Yeah, yeah they were, and he was immensely guilty and terrified, but! The plot could be changed! He already assumed someone from the System had popped up in the Conference, as when Binghe had recently made his alliance with MBJ, and had mentioned in passing this weird thing that had happened to him just before he fell into the Abyss.

Anyways, eventually SY begrudgingly accepts SQH's decision to stay in PIDW, but he still had to help SY; and so they form a plan: SY was going to transfer some energy to SQH so he could temporarily get his acess to the full version of his Personal System and use his energy reserves to send SY's Sheers and get them fixed. SQH was also going to properly apologize to their supervisor for suddenly quitting without notice AND order some more energy stacks to be sent to SY's System. SY on the other hand had devises a plan to get closer to XIn Mo without the sword exploding his face off:

Infiltrate Demon Emperor Luo Binghe's palace as a lowly staff member and slowly debug the sword from the inside.

A perfect plan! What could go wrong?

SY selects to warp to a time where Binghe had Xin Mo mostly in control, so it is to no surprise he warps to a place were the Demonic Emperor's Palace is absolutely filled with women. Not the best situation, since a lot of people could and probably would be able to see him, but with that many harem members, it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume there was also a considerable number of staff, which, to SY's luck, there was! In fact, after he managed to activate a disguise for his clothes so they matched the rest of the servants, no one bat an eye on his presence; at most someone would inquire about his short hair, but other than that he was as noteable as a fly.

The first phase of his plan was already a success, so now he had to move on to reconnaissance which was mostly easy and the worst thing in his life. He was mostly looking for Binghe's quarters could be as he probably kept the sword close to him at all times, though with how big the palace was, his objective had gradually shifted to mapping out the labyrinth of halls as much as possible (SY was very glad that the System allowed him to create a map in real time or he might have gotten lost in the first five minutes). He walks so much he even manages to catch a few pieces of gossip, though the most interesting one by far being one about Binghe:

Apparently, a year ago, the Emperor had a qi deviation where, for a day, he seemed to have completely shifted his personality; he refused to touch any of his wives and kept screaming for his long dead Shizun. SY doesn't really remember that plot point, though his wondering is cut short when he hears people walking towards his direction. instinctively he his behind a dark corner, momentarily forgetting that he 'worked' at the palace now.

At list his bad luck was finally turning over as the Golden Protagonist himself walked past him with one of his wives hanging off his arm, looking just as cool as SY had always imagined. He had to snap himself out of his stuppor though, as two things caught his attention: First, Xin Mo was, predictably, strapped to his waist, still glitched but at least the virus seemed more or less contained, which gave SY a bit more time to work, though the other thing he noticed...

Hanging onto an old-looking braid laid SY's missing tassle that Binghe had found for him all the way back at the Conference.

What the hell was Luo Binghe doing wearing that old tassle at this day and age??

A few days passed and the Tassle Incident (as he called it) had to be set aside, as it seemed that passing as a servant also meant that other servants and even some wives expected SY to actually work. Not great, he sucked at cleaning and the other servants spared no words to make it clear to him, but it at least gave him something to do while he waited for his Scissors to arrive. SQH had sent him a few messages saying he'd gotten his part of the deal done, so now all SY could do was monitor Xin Mo's condition (from very far away), and occasionally manually debug some small virus pieces that had fallen from the sword, which luckily were easy enough to deal with that he didn't need to cut them off.

The only thing that was worrying him now is how... odd Luo Binghe seemed. Of course, he was supposed to be the pinnacle of the Cool Guy trope, so some edginess was to be expected, but Binghe didn't look just Edgy, he looked straight up depressed. There were bags under his eyes, and he barely seemed to tolerate the presence of 99% of his wives, and that damned braid with the damned tassle was still there-

Point is, Binghe acting so weird really threw SY through a loop, and he may have gotten a bit careless. At a random day when SY was carrying some dirty laundry another servant had just shoved at him, he had no prior warning before a voice sounded from behind him: "You seem to have dropped something."

He barely managed to shake off the violent sense of deja-vu that had sucker punched him in the face before he realized what was happening; Luo Binghe was talking to him. Directly to him. Shit- shit! Did he notice? Was Binghe doing a clever call back, spider-man style?? Was SY going to die????

SY shakily turns to Binghe, keeping his eyes locked onto the floor, bowing as much as possible that he still seemed respectful but the bag of clothes he had didn't all just fall to the floor. Thankfully Binghe didn't seem to mind, and simply put the fallen piece of clothing on top of the others and walked away. Though, just as SY was regaining his breath, Luo Binghe's voice stops him again. "You... Have we met before?"

SY trembles something about only being hired recently and not having the opportunity to formaly meet Junshang, and it seems to be a decent enough that Binghe just stares at him for a while longer before walking away. He really should grow out his hair if even the Emperor got weirded out like that...

Binghe started eyeing SY way more after that day. The protagonist would rarely speak directly to him, but SY could feel his gaze as if it were burning; though, since Binghe never said anything, SY just assumed that whatever Binghe's problem with him was, it was likely nothing to worry about.

In fact, it probably was because one of Binghe's wives had used SY is an impromptu act to try to get Binghe jealous (he just frowned, separated the two and walked away) and after that she had gotten infatuated with him, so she'd turned SY into her personal servant. Because of that SY saw Binghe at most two times a week instead of the 50% chnace of seeing his shadow once a week. Wow.

Because of this, as much as Binghe noticed SY, SY noticed Binghe as well, the protagonist seeming to get even more down as the days went. The tassle was still braided in his hair (SY worried it was just going to become a lock at this point), his eyebags never seemed to leave his eyes, and he was always muttering about... something. (SY managed to overhear something about 'fairness' and what Binghe actually wanted...?)

It all culminated at a seemingly random night. Most of the wives and servants had gone to sleep, only the more in-human women still hanging around, and SY, of course, but mostly it was because he wanted to see how close he could get to Binghe's quarters (aka Xin Mo) at night. Not that it was necessary, as when he was walking his attention was adruptly caught by the strangest sight: Luo binghe, sitting on one of the stone stair that lead to one of the many courtyards, being absolutely drenched in rain. The weirdest part was that a few servants and wives had also passed this place, and they all seemed like they didn't see Binghe, or didn't care.

Hating to see such an usually proud man (not that he'd seen much of that either) just soaking outside as if he'd just caught the love of his life cheating with another man, SY decided that at least he'd do a good job as a servant and take care of 'his Lord'. He grabs an umbrella from one of the adjacent rooms and slowly walks outside, covering Luo Binghe's form, not really caring if he was also getting soaked.

They stayed silent for who knows how long, but eventually, Binghe's eyes that had been laser focused on the horizon slowly blink once, as if coming out of a trance, and slowly move to SY's face, up to his hand holding the umbrella. "My Lord should get back inside. He'll get sick that way." SY half murmurs.

Binghe doesn't respond, though after a few seconds, his eyes seem to widen a bit and his breath comes out a little shaky. SY doesn't dare comment on it.

"Have we met before?" Luo Binghe asks again.

"...Yes." Shen Yuan says.

Binghe closes his eyes, and they stay like that for another hour.

Pt.3

[joaniscruzing]

reuniting with jinx <3

everyone... that was quite the rollercoaster. but, i choose to believe that jinx is alive. i'm not ready to let go of arcane for a good while, and I'll do my best to upload fics more often, especially with the holiday breaks coming up too, so reel in whatever arcane requests you have! i write for vi, caitlyn, and jinx. i do take smut requests for these characters too if you guys would like to request some...

obviously though, jinx wouldn't leave without finding her amazing gf though... right??

summary: jinx surprises you while you're grieving, and you both escape and go elsewhere.

warnings: angst at the beginning, season 2 act 3 spoilers, kissing, emotional, lots and lots of fluff, I PROMISED A HAPPY ENDING AND DELIVERED

you couldn't believe it. your whole body crumbled to the ground as vi told you the devastating news.

"I'll tell you one thing," vi tried to quip, a small smile on her face, "she went out with a bang."

vi explained that she heard an explosion sound when jinx fell down the vent, and how she guessed she had set off one more bomb. you take vi close to you, hugging her tightly.

"she really did love you, you know." vi admitted, "i think she's just had a lot come her way. and i can't say I'm the most innocent in that realm myself."

you left vi to continue staring at the fireplace, about to leave and go to jinx's workshop, hoping to take a few things to remember her by. you see caitlyn looking at the vent diagram, studying it closely. how could she possibly studying the place where your beloved girlfriend died? you knew that caitlyn had grown to not hate jinx anymore, so you decided to just leave it at that.

after leaving the kiramann mansion, you traversed back to zaun, thoughts racing through your head. had you not done enough? loved her enough? given her a reason to live? you wanted to scream as loudly as you could, and let whatever you were feeling out.

you finally made it to where jinx had her things, and you took a deep breath before entering. this was it.

the once lit-up place was darker and worn-out in her eyes. the once neon, bright-colored place seemed to be dark and empty now. like you without jinx. a tear rolled down your face as you picked up small tools and things, even parts of a flower she was making for you out of scraps. you sat on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, trying to make sense in your head of what you should do next.

"did you really think i was gone, hun?" jinx questions, right behind you. your entire body leaps at the sound of her voice. it can't be.

"jinx?" you ask, shooting your head up and turning around.

"did you really think i was gonna die that easily? now stop moping. we have to get on the hot air balloon."

shocked, you hug jinx quickly before shoving one thing you collected in your pocket. you both start running. hand in hand, you make a beeline in order to get on the next hot air balloon.

"you know what i realized? things aren't so great here, so why don't i just go somewhere else to do my thing? but, i knew i couldn't leave without you." jinx explains while running.

"how did you even get out?" is the only thing you manage to say.

"my shimmer, silly! i got the hell out and escaped through the air vents."

"and how did you get back to zaun?"

"simple hacking and tweaking of the hexgates. nothing special."

you both finally make it onto the airship, jinx holding your hand as you get on so you don't fall. she closes the door behind you.

"so. this is it. any last wishes before we leave forever?"

"my biggest one has been granted," you answer before pulling in jinx for a sweet kiss. you had missed her, as you hadn't seen her for a week or two with everything going on. jinx pulls away, explaining that you two had to go.

"you know, i've always wanted to drive one of these," jinx admits, steering the ship, "i have since i was very young." you notice a new sense of peace in her eyes as she drives the ship. she doesn't seem so... tortured anymore. in fact, she seems free of any past issues.

her newly cut hair blows in the wind, as you go up behind her and hug her waist, your head resting on her shoulder. no matter what the future held, you knew you were going to be happy. as long as jinx was there, you would be at peace.

"i love you," jinx says softly, taking one hand off the wheel to rest on top of yours.

"i love you too."

[creamflix]

suguru x female reader; dark and 18+ content, minors or ageless blogs do not interact. unestablished relationship. barista!reader, customer!suguru. use of sex doll. unethical and unhealthy obsession. highkey pervert suguru. inspired by my perv, onahole using satoru ramble. — masterlist here ☆ extended fic here. dark content, reader discretion is highly advised.

suguru insists he’s no pervert.

he’s just a god-fearing, woman-respecting man who can’t help that he fell headfirst for the café's prettiest barista — you.

the one who makes his coffee just right, adding that little extra smile at the end. he might’ve told himself, at first, that it was a harmless crush. but it’s so easy to let that slip when he’s already got money to burn and his mind…preoccupied.

so he made a quick little purchase — a sex doll.

but not just any doll, oh no.

he found himself scrolling, one page after another, until he landed on a custom silicone model that could be shaped and molded into an eerily perfect replica of you. the doll arrived with realistic features, down to the soft skin and delicate curves molded just after you. suguru’s fingers skimmed over the doll’s "face," tilting its head this way and that with a dark, possessive fascination.

it’s just for fun, he reasoned, flexing the doll’s joints to make sure the metal skeleton could hold you — the doll, he corrects himself — firm in whatever position he liked best.

but the thrill wore off sooner than he anticipated. the coldness, the quiet — it wasn’t enough.

so, naturally, he upgraded it.

this new model was, in his eyes, a step up to something more perfect. this one came with a full-body heating system, warm to the touch, programmable so he could dial up just the right amount of heat — warm enough to imagine you’re there with him. it made him shudder, setting the control panel with a kind of reverence, feeling every bit like he was crafting his own illusion of you.

and the upgrades kept coming.

on days when he didn’t see you at the café — those mornings when you weren’t there, with no smile, no light laugh, and not even a hint of your voice drifting through the air — he had another fix in place. this time, he added a custom voice feature, programmed with phrases. the voice was robotic, yes, but it was close enough to play with his imagination. it was your voice, lifted from voice recordings he’d carefully taken, just samples of phrases he’d remembered hearing you say, woven together.

"welcome back, suguru," it said, in that sweet imitation of you. "how can i make your day better?" sometimes, he’d press another button to hear it say, "did you miss me?" the doll’s voice, soft but teasing, filled his dim room.

and then he would, with that calm satisfaction, spend his nights hearing just enough to keep him wanting more.

but none of this stopped suguru from showing up at the café, same as ever, leaning against the counter as if nothing happened. as you prepared his order, he'd watch you, hiding his grin behind the rim of his cup. every now and then, you’d catch his eye, and he’d give you that dashing smile, all charm and innocence, with not a hint that just last night, he’d spent hours tangled up with a doll that looked and sounded exactly like you.

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[nyxofdemons]

i cannot get over the way that blitz screams "LET'S GO" like he WANTS to fight with him, like he's ASKING stolas to lash out at him and tell him blitz is right, stolas DOES think he's insignificant and he wants him gone if blitz doesn't accept his feelings immediately, just so blitz has a reason to keep being angry and vent out everything bottled up inside of him.

i think all of this comes back to how blitz would rather people hate him than miss him, because at least then he feels like he's getting what he deserves, and he will actively sabotage relationships to MAKE people hate him so he knows they have a good reason - like his breakup with verosika and everything he did to her. if he GIVES her a reason to hate his guts then he gets to know exactly what it is he did wrong, and it's not just because of who he is fundamentally that's so despicable. i think he's TRYING to do the same thing with stolas here - on some level his anger is justified, of course, but i don't think this is entirely that. i think he's trying to provoke stolas into lashing out at him so they can have a huge argument, and blitz can make him feel as small as he does right now, and if stolas gets angry and hates him for whatever cruel things he's going to say, then blitz gets proof that stolas doesn't really love him, gives his self-loathing monster a taste of validation by knowing he is definitely the reason that all of this fell apart, and reaffirms his own warped self-image that he is incapable of receiving love or creating a good relationship.

blitz isn't expecting stolas to take him at his word - that this is nothing more than sex, and he actually thinks of stolas as nothing more than a privileged rich asshole he HAS to put up with - he's expecting stolas to fight back so blitz can keep yelling. but stolas loves him too much to lash out (at least right now,) and he's so aware of the power imbalance between them and feels too guilty about their transactional relationship to try and argue. HE'S being entirely honest about his feelings (and he's distraught and off his meds), so he's assuming that blitz is being honest, too - he really can't stand stolas, and he's been perceiving their interactions as stolas' classism being malicious rather than simply ignorant, so of course there's no way blitz would ever want to be with him. and blitz can't grasp that stolas genuinely cares, and doesn't want to fight with him, until it's too late to backtrack.

[sukunas-wife]

baby yuji who is super clingy to his dad and would rather be with him than his mom until mama has to leave to see a relative (or for some reason) and misses her so much that he makes trouble for daddy sukuna

Not sure if I wanted to do Modern day or Heian Era, but I really like the thought of

Yuji clinging to one of Sukuna’s arms while he just goes about his day sighing with a dead look and lifting his arm to bring Yuji to eye level just to make sure he’s still there. So that’s it, Heian Era it is, I’ll need to start adding that to when requests are submitted 🥹

Ryomen Yuji Sukuna loved clinging to his daddy’s side. Something the King of Curses was not used to but grew fond of in the course of days. He’s not a gentle beast and much less a soft man, but the way Yuji would cry when he entered the room, his little hands pushing him away from your chest and reaching out for him? He loved, it made him swell with pride that his son knew he was the one, he was the all powerful one and wanted to be by his side.

Many times you’d walk in on Sukuna speaking aimlessly to Yuji who was laying on his chest, one of Sukuna’s large hands almost covering him entirely. Two arms crossed behind his head, and his forth hands waved around aimlessly accentuating his points. “Hey are you listening brat…” Yuji’s little round eyes kept slowly opening and closing, doing his best to stay awake listening to whatever was happening. He let out a coo before his head fell completely against his dad’s chest and he fell asleep, little fists on his dads chest. Sukuna let out a long sigh, “mm, sleep then.”

Sukuna heard your hushed laugh and he looked at you, standing there in the doorway of your shared room. You quietly made your way over to him sitting beside him and brushing his hair out of his face. He grabbed your wrist, pulling it to his lips, and biting over your pulse point lightly. “Do you want to hold him or should I lay him down?” Sukuna let your hand slip from his before he pulled you down with him, “Leave him with me.”

Time crawled on and soon he was sleeping in the middle of your bed, his little pillow wedged between both your pillow and Sukuna’s. You could bear it but Sukuna was a menace to his own son. He’d bundle him up and throw him on his other side so he could hold you, Yuji would cry and punch his dads back with his little fists and wouldn’t stop until Sukuna would put him back in the middle. You’d smile fondly as Yuji would stand half laying on his Sukuna’s chest, and poking his face. It was funny watching how Yuji would try to touch his extra eyes and Sukuna would just hold him up in the air so he’d kick and laugh. That’s when he’d get his kisses in, and Yuji would fight harder because you were getting his dad’s attention instead of him.

Yuji did love you, he liked to hold your hand and go outside with you, he liked to follow you around and for some reason he always got clingier when you had to use the bathroom, it was “fun” using the restroom and there he was laughing and saying “hehe poopie” He loved sitting with you and drinking milk while you had tea and snacks. He learned your routine and Sukuna became curious one day when he was wrestling him around why he started kicking and trying to break free, “lemme go daddy I gonna go.” He was confused and offended, but curious why was his son running off so suddenly. He followed just to find you there sitting at a tea table outside under the plum blossoms. The soft look on your face was enough to lore Sukuna in to join you, that was until he saw the little hands pop up from behind the table in exaggerated motions like he was storytelling. “Mhmm, so you’re just like him then?” You were talking to Yuji who was exaggerating a story of how he was just wrestling with his father. His other hand was holding a sweet to his mouth where he was laid back on your lap, Sukuna was tempted to leave until you signalled him over. “I need to go to my family home soon. My only sister is getting married and my Father and Mother are requesting everyone to be there.” He sighed, he hated that overgrown village you came from. You didn’t come from a poverty stricken home but you weren’t bathing in lavishness as you were now.

“I’ll see you in 3 weeks. I love you.” Your lips met Sukuna’s in a kiss before Yuji was wedging himself in between both of you, “Bye mommy luf you.” He hugged your leg smiling up at you, you put a hand on his head rubbing his hair before kneeling down to hug him kissing his face all over and he laughed. “I love you too Yu.” Sukuna looked displeased when you finally left your home. Yuji was quick to pull on his hand to take him to wherever, everything was normal while Sukuna went about his business, Yuji lingering around until tea time came.

He got excited and started to run out into the garden where he’d always find you waiting. He stopped, The Plum blossom tree was there… but you weren’t.. no tea, no cake.. no “…mommy?…” the tears welling up in his eyes when he laid on the grass crying where the table would’ve been. Sukuna found him and rolled him over onto his side. He was red from crying, “Why do you cry?” Yuji was sniffling, tears and boogies running down his face. “ere’s no mommy.”

Sukuna sighed, picking him up by the scruff of his shirt, “stop crying she told you bye this morning, remember? She said she was leaving and you didn’t even try to go with her.”

“SHE'S NOT COMING BACK!?” Yuji started screaming and kicking while dangling in the air, “MOOMMMYYYY”

This was how Sukuna spent the rest of the first day. Yuji crying and kicking and fussing because all of a sudden he wanted to be with his mommy.

“…Lord Sukuna, forgive me but don’t you think the young prince should be consoled or at least fed?” It was one of your ladies in waiting who had stayed behind. She had the bravery to talk to Sukuna in a respectful and appropriate way which is why you decided to ask her to stay. You knew if anything happened she’d be the most reliable woman considering she was also older in age.

Sukuna didn’t bother a quick glance, “He’ll be fine, bring him here.”

There he sat holding Yuji and patting his back, “Your mother is coming back Yuji, she wouldn’t abandon you with such ease.” Yuji sniffled holding onto his dads open robes with a tight grip, “she’s comin back?” His little teary eyes moved his heart, “Yes, she’s coming back now you need to eat or you won't be here when she comes back.” Yuji sniffled with a wobbly lip. “Wan noodles” Sukuna huffed hoping he wouldn’t have to eat noodles every day you were gone just to appease the boy, “then you’ll get noodles, but you will eat them all.”

They sat at the large table, Sukuna wasn’t eating but rather watching Yuji. How the boy kept pathetically using his hashi and dropping noodles. Until he gave up and out them down only to use the broth spoon to burn himself with the liquid before spitting it out. Sukuna was amassed but intervened when Yuji threw the spoon down aggravated, “I hate it.”

“What’s wrong now?” “Mommy always helps me with my hashi and blows on my spoon…” he looked up at his father with a desperate pleading look, Sukuna swallowed and pulled Yuji’s chair closer to his side along with his bowl of noodles, “Fine.” Yuji perked up with a little laugh “eheh.”

Yuji was busy the rest of the day following his dad and playing his own little games to remember why he was crying. That was until night time came and you weren’t there to tuck him in. He laid on your side of the bed, it was so cold without you there. There was so much space. He let out silent tears and the occasional sniffle until Sukuna finally came into the room. It was past the time you would lay Yuji down so he expected him to be asleep already. It wasn’t shocking to see him crying considering you would be there with him wrestling him down to bed while he persisted he should be with his daddy. So Sukuna laid down pulling Yuji into his side, Yuji hurried his face against his dads side holding on tight, it made Sukuna’s heart waver in a way, ‘he makes it feel as if she’s dead..’ His hand ran up and down Yuji’s small back, mumbling a story until Yuji fell asleep in his hold.

The next day was just as bad, and so was the third. During the day he was fine, until tea time came along and you weren’t there to receive him, he’d run back crying to his dad, and even when Sukuna ordered to have a tea table set up the way you would it never pleased Yuji, the teapot would just sit there full, getting cold. The sweets weren’t as sweet and the sun wasn’t the same sun that kept him warm while he slept in your lap.

The week passed, and finally one morning Sukuna woke up with Yuji drooling on his arm. He still cried himself to sleep, missing you and calling out for you. He yawned, getting a weird smell and leaned down sniffing before he understood, Yuji was the source of the smell, his smelly brat. Yuji yawned slowly, pushing himself up, and looking around before falling down against his fathers arm to sleep again. Sukuna let him sleep a little longer so he could sleep a little longer also.

Finally it was mid day when he woke up yawning again and then he woke up stretching, his bones popping as he sat up. Yuji let out a yawn/scream while he stretched trying to mimic the sound his father made when he stretched. Sukuna sat there for a minute, “You need a bath.” Yuji looked at his dad in disbelief, “No!”

That’s how Sukuna ended up sitting on a stool, sleeves tied back, watching Yuji pout at him with sad eyes, “T’s cold..” “URAUME BRING HOT WATER DAMN IT” there went Uraume in a rush to keep Lord Sukuna from becoming upset. Sukuna kept scrubbing Yuji down, who kept whining when Sukuna would move his head around to get him cleaned up. Finally Uraume came back with water that was hot enough the young prince wouldn’t complain. “Tank you ‘ume” Yuji didn’t look at Uraume, instead kicking over the cold water bucket from his smaller stool.

Uraume stifled a snicker, “It’ll be a long few weeks Yuji, but you’ll live.” Yuji hummed, swinging his feet, “yeah I know.”

The day passed slowly after Sukuna wrapped Yuji in clean clothes and sat him out under the sun to dry and warm up. He was busy with his devices during the day leaving the boy to follow him around or play with his own things in his room. Night came quickly and it was no surprise to find Yuji in his room passed out on the bed again. Sukuna did his best to gently move him over only for Yuji to wake up and take hold of his arm.

He was woken up in the middle of the night by Yuji crying “don’t leave me too.” He was holding on tight to his chest and crying, snot dripping onto his chest while he tried to calm him down. “What is now?” He was too disoriented to process what was happening until Yuji started crying harder and trying to explain what happened in his dream. His dad left him in the middle of the night saying he was useless and didn’t love him anymore. And that he was leaving like his mother had. Sukuna was confused, but held him close, rubbing his back, “shh shh shh, I’m not leaving, forget your silly little dreams. I've told you before, that as long as I live I will be here with you.” Yuji sniffled, his tears drying up, and he held on tight to his dad, nodding his head forcing his eyes closed.

Which led to Yuji clinging to Sukuna’s arm that morning, and all day. It was funny to see the “King of Curses” With his arms crossed over his chest and Yuji just hanging there. It was a sight when Sukuan was speaking, making hand motions just to see Yuji being shaken around unintentionally with ease.

The only downside to this was that it lasted all week, meaning in battle Sukuna would take a strong hold of Yuji bringing him to eye level or holding him up higher to assure he was there or constantly in line of sight and out of harm's way.

It had been a long two weeks… “what of another week?” Yuji stood on his dad’s back while he laid face down on his bed, “‘m tall.”

The third week passed slowly with a mix of emotions, Yuji still cried for you at night but would fall asleep faster once his dad would start to smother him into his side. Then the day came when Sukuna needed to tend to business but knowing he couldn’t leave Yuji he took him along. It just happened to be within the hour you made it home. You didn’t expect a greeting party but it was best this way, at least you could actually find a way to rest before having to face Sukuna and tell him everything and how your parents were pushing for you to have a wedding ceremony in your family home.

”Lady y/n! You’ve returned,” Your lady in waiting bowed to you, “Lord Sukuna and the Prince just left. Do you require assistance?” You waved her off, “I’d really just like to sit down with a cup of tea please.” She gave you a soft smile as you followed her through the house and outside. Your little tea table was set up, “I knew you would return today I just hadn’t known when, rest and I’ll steep some tea.” She bowed when you nodded with a smile, “Thank you very much.”

You sat on the cushion feeling relief in your feet as you slipped your shoes off. The sun felt warm and comfortable under the plum blossoms, unlike the cursed heat of your family’s home where they refused to have more than just a few trees. The breeze was soothing as you reclined back against the base of the tree. The smile on your face was soft, thinking about your sister’s wedding. It was chaotic, everyone was happy despite the threat of the wedding being cancelled twice. The comments of how you should’ve married someone so you could also have a wedding in your family home, but now you had decided to go off and marry a curse and live secluded. The comments didn’t bother you, rolling your eyes and always answering with crude comments to match their own.

You laughed to yourself shaking your head as your lady in waiting returned. You talked with her sipping tea, until she left you to sit in peace. You sat there for another hour getting ready to get up and wait for your husbands return until you heard the scream “MMmmoommmmyyyy!!!” You saw a glimpse of his teary eyes and snotty nose when he hugged your legs rubbing his face into the bright red fabric of your robes. You looked down at him, rubbing a hand on his back and the other through his hair, “aw, did my little Yuji miss me?” You looked up at Sukuna who looked visibly relieved, you didn’t miss the faint smile on his lips. Looking back at Yuji he was holding his arms up, you squatted to pick him up and he hugged your neck. Laying his head on your shoulder he sniffled when you placed your hand on the back of his head kissing his forehead whispering to him and he smiled, “missed you mommy.” He turned his head quickly burying his face against your shoulder. You didn’t stop rubbing your hand up and down his back while you carried him in. He didn’t move his face from your shoulder after becoming embarrassed when Sukuna began to tell you everything that happened while you were away.

That night Yuji didn’t let you go, he stuck to your side all night wanting to feel you hugging him again. You weren’t away but Sukuna was aware how frequently Yuji would wake up, his little chubby hand reaching up to just graze your face before he’d yawn and curl up against you to sleep again. He wanted to make sure you were really there with them.

Tag List: soft tag are now called squishy babies :p

@sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd

@simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @cyder-puff

Wanna support my shop 🤍

[dollarbils]

but baby, i | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. your ex girlfriend, billie, can’t resist calling you a week after you’d broken up.

warnings. angst, fluff, suggestive

masterlist

‘if you go, i’m going too’

a sigh of relief was heard on the other end of the phone when you’d pressed the green button, spilling out a hesitant ‘hello’ as you held the phone up to your ear. There was no response however, lighting up a flame of irritation in you.

“Who is this?” was the next thing that fell from your lips, laced with hostility.

“baby,” it was quiet, soft and inviting. Emotions from the previous couple months all encompassed into the term of endearment.

“billie?” your voice softened at the realisation of who it was.

“deleted my number already have you?” she teased, but it didn’t make you smile, not in this moment.

“billie, what happened? are you okay?” the questions tumbled out in an attempt to comprehend the reason for her call. it had been a week since you’d broken up, and hearing her voice felt like you’d been taken back to last Friday.

“yeah no, nothing happened, i’m fine. i just..” she trailed off, gathering the courage to speak, or the bravery to do the right thing, and hang up. but she was weak, and so were you.

“yeah?” it was a plea for her to continue. a beg for her to speak the words you couldn’t.

“i miss you baby.” your eyes drifted shut, a flush rising to your cheeks.

“billie, this isn’t a good idea.” it was the truth neither of you wanted to hear.

“i don’t care.” she whined, desperation clear in her words.

“billie don’t say that.” she let out a sigh of frustration at your words.

“i know you missed me too, this week has been the shittiest week you could imagine.” and suddenly you found yourself drifting into your usual conversation, like you would’ve a week ago.

“i’m sorry bils, how can i help?” it was a stupid question and you’d realised soon enough. all of this would eventually lead you back to her.

“you know how.” it was a confession in itself, revealing what she hoped to get from this call.

“tell me. whatever you need, i’ll do it.” you couldn’t reject her, not now, not ever. she had been everything for you, and she still was.

“come over, please.” her request was simple but it meant so much.

“are you sure?” her answer would decide your future, because it was clear what would happen if you complied with her wish.

“i need you.” those three words were deadly, they represented so many things all at once. they could be interpreted as multiple meanings.

“fuck,” it was a sigh of submission, giving in to her. and everything you’d previously given up. “i’ll be there in ten.”

‘cause it was always you’

the silence that followed the knock on her door, was deafening. leaving too much space for you to fall into the pit of doubt, that was still very much prominent. when the door finally opened, she stood in front of you, her perfect eyes attaching themselves to yours. then she smiled, engulfing you in a gentle hug, holding you as if you might break.

“billie.” it pulled her out of her state of daydreaming, grounding her with the realisation that this didn’t mean the beginning of a new chapter.

“i’m so sorry.” the apology was long overdue, but when she closed the door behind you, inviting you back in, none of that mattered.

“i know, but i need your promise, that we’ll be okay this time. i can’t go through breaking up with you again. i won’t survive it this time.” your throat closed up, signalling you to stop talking before your feelings spill out of your eyes, in front of her.

“of course angel, i understand. i’ll give you whatever you need.” she held your face in her hands, confirming her words at the slight rub of her thumb, over your cheeks.

“i need your devotion, your love.”

“but baby, i..” she paused for a second, pondering on wether her next words were ones she’d later regret. but she soon brushed the doubt away, releasing herself from its constraints, confessing her truth. “i’ll love you ‘til the day that i die.”

when she brought her lips to yours they were warm, inviting. they connected and moulded together as your bodies inched closer.

‘and if i’m turning blue, please don’t save me’

the heat from her breath, warming the patches of skin tainted by her tongue, as she ran it across your naked body. her lips attached to yours nipples, and then your clit. devoting herself to your pleasure. expressing her love for your body.

‘nothing left to lose, without my baby.’

and when your mind lost itself in her affection, focusing on her tongue buried deep inside you hole, you felt connected. birds of a feather destined to reach for each other in times of difficulty. destined to end up in each others’ embrace in times of despair.

‘we should stick together.’

[void-wolfie]

I Can't Live Without You

summary: you and Jenna get into a fight, you get into a car crash before you can make amends [request]

pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

tw: swearing, arguments, drinking, a car crash (i'm probably missing something so let me know if i need to add anything)

words: 2.33k

a/n: one of my longest posts yet, sorry it took me so long to get to this request and even longer to post it. anyway, enjoy the angst :)

You stood there, frozen in place, watching the pair through the windows of the coffee shop. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them.

His hand was up her thigh, shoulders brushing with every passing word, her smile brighter than all the stars in the midnight sky. But that’s not what held your attention. No. The thing that held your attention the most, was the kiss. 

You had no right to be jealous, it’s not like you were dating her. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You liked Jenna, you really did… maybe even loved her… And you thought, or at least hoped, maybe she liked you back. But the scene in front of you told a very different story.

The couple sat towards the back of the café in a small corner booth, just against the windows. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed them if you weren’t about to head into the shop yourself. And yet, there they were. Hidden away like two lovers on a secret rendezvous.

You backed away, back in the direction you came from. You had plans for today, but those could wait. Right now, you needed to get away… anywhere far away from that.

Jenna saw you. She saw you turn and walk off in the other direction. There was something about the way you stormed off that caught her attention, it put a knot in her stomach.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

You wiped your eyes, hoping no one would notice if they saw you. You hated crying; it made you feel weak.

You patted down your pockets, looking for your car keys. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find them, and it took even less to unlock the car door.

“What’s wrong?”

Of course… You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole right then and there.

 You didn’t want to talk to her, not after what you just saw.

“Not now, Jenna. Please.” 

You didn’t turn around, keeping yourself facing towards the car. You didn’t want to see her, and you sure as hell didn’t want her to see you like this. 

Jenna was taken aback. You told her everything. When something was wrong, you’d always go to her first. And now you were pushing her away? She couldn’t understand it.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the empty parking lot. Gravel crunched under Jenna’s feet as she got closer. You didn’t move though, you refused to let her see you like this. 

“Seriously, Jenna, I’m not in the mood.” You tried again to get her to go away. But her footsteps didn’t falter or change course… Nope, Jenna was going to give you a piece of her mind, whether you liked it or not.

You wiped your eyes again and took a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. You didn’t want her to notice what a mess you were… Not like it would matter though, Jenna noticed everything.

Her footsteps stopped next to you. You could feel her eyes boring into you, her concern practically radiating off her. You didn’t budge though. You couldn’t. It almost seemed like the closer she got the faster your tears fell.

“Hey, talk to me. Whatever’s wrong, maybe I can help…”

Fuck… You hated the world. You hated yourself, you hated that boy, you hated everything. Everything but her… How do you even tell your best friend, the girl you’re in love with, that the reason your entire world is falling apart is because of her? She was your everything, and she destroyed you.

But worst of all, she didn’t even know it.

You still had your eyes closed, praying that by some miracle she would go away.

She reached out to hold your hand, anything to try and comfort you. But you pulled away.

Jenna tried to ignore the pain in her chest as you pulled away, the feeling of your fingertips slipping past hers was almost foreign. She knew you were hurting, but it didn’t make the ache in her own heart go away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to tell her it was all just a big misunderstanding, that you were fine. But you couldn’t. Instead, more tears fell.

Jenna would never be yours. Never anything more than a friend… The longer the two of you stood there the more the realization crushed you.

“No, Jenna. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The words came out soft, muffled by the air caught in your throat and the weight of the world slowly suffocating you.

“Then what’s wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?” She was getting frustrated now, evident by the tension in her voice and her rising volume.

“Because I can’t!” You snapped, “Because for fucking once, you’re the only person I can’t tell!”

“Why not?!”

“Because it’s not your fucking problem!”

The second the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You didn’t mean it.

You never thought you could see someone’s heart break. You always thought that was the stuff of movies and shows. And yet, that’s exactly what you saw looking at Jenna. You saw her heart shatter. You could see the tears welling in her eyes, her hands looked like they were shaking, and her face twisted in anger and hurt. She seemed…

broken.

“Sorry I even bothered then.”

You didn’t even have time to interject before she turned on her heel and stormed off. And even if you did, you weren’t sure you would’ve said anything anyway. What do you say to fix a broken heart? What do you say when your own heart is crumbling to pieces?

You finally got into your car, practically throwing yourself into the driver’s seat.

You took a second to breathe and digest whatever the hell just happened.

You ruined it. You just ruined the only relationship that ever mattered to you…

fuck.

You slammed your hand against the steering wheel. You did it again and again and again, beating the crap out of the poor thing. You kept going till your hand was purple and blue and all the anger had finally faded away. All that remained was your shattered soul and bruised hand.

You’d give anything to take back what just happened…

You stumbled out of the bar door, your eyes struggling to adjust to the pitch-black sky after sitting under the tavern lights for so long.

After your fight with Jenna you decided to turn to the best distraction you could think of; crawling into the bottom of a bottle. All things considered; you’ve been worse off. You weren’t seeing double yet and you hadn’t fallen on your face. Both of which were good things considering how much you had to drink.

You fumbled for your keys, dropping them as you pulled them from your pocket. You bent over to pick them up, your stomach churning as you did so. You heaved, silently begging your body not to barf. It churned again. You nearly lost it, but the feeling seemed to pass as quickly as it appeared.

You looked down at the keys in your hand, quickly shoving them back into your pocket. If the way you nearly puked two seconds ago told you anything it was that you were too drunk to drive home.

You pulled out your phone, trying to think of someone who’d be willing to drive you home this late at night. You clicked the first contact you could think of.

You listened to the dial tone. Once, twice, three rings. Then to voicemail. You didn’t bother leaving a message, instead hanging up. It was crazy to think she’d pick up anyway.

You clicked a different contact, your brother. Once again, it rang only to go to voicemail. You tried your sister, but once again, no answer.

You looked over at your car, contemplating just how drunk you were. Your house wasn't that far away, maybe you could drive?

No. It wasn't worth the risk. You only lived a few blocks away, you could walk. You weren’t gonna be one of those idiots on the news who got a hundred years in prison for killing someone because they drove home drunk.

You headed towards the street, making sure to keep on the sidewalk. You didn’t want to stumble into the road like some drunk idiot, even if there weren’t any cars around. You decided to put on some soft music while you walked, the quiet beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Somewhere behind you could hear the rumble of a car. It was getting close and fast… definitely too fast to be safe. You turned behind you to try and get a look at the car, only to be met with bright headlights right in your eyes. It almost seemed like they were swerving but it was too hard to tell.

“Hello?” Jenna answered the phone with a sigh.

She’d been halfway through pouring herself yet another glass of white wine when her phone started to ring. She was just going to ignore it, but it kept ringing. Eventually, she decided to pick it up and tell whoever it was to call back tomorrow.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the fight from earlier. In fact, it was all she could think about all day. And the more she thought about it the more her chest ached. And the more her chest ached, the more wine she found herself pouring.

“Jenna! Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay?”  It was her mom; she seemed worried, frantic even. She wasn’t sure why she was so worked up, but it couldn’t have been good.

“Yeah, mom, I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

There was a pause. A moment of silence. The tension that seeped into the air sent chills down Jenna’s spine.

“Mom?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Now she was even more confused. Did something happen? “You’re scaring me, Mom. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, hun. I was worried, I thought you might’ve been with her when it happened and- ”

“With who? What happened?”

“Oh,” she could hear her mom’s voice cracking from the other side of the phone, it only made her more worried, “Sweetheart… There was an accident, a bad one.” Her mom didn’t need to say your name, Jenna already knew exactly who she was talking about.

Her mom kept rambling, but she was hardly listening. Jenna made out some words; drunk driver, life support, critical condition… but all she could think about was you.

“What hospital?” Jenna interrupted. She loved her mom, but the conversation at hand was far from her mind. She needed to see you, she needed to know you were going to be okay. You had to be okay… she wasn’t sure what she would even do if you weren’t.

“The hospital just off of thirteenth street-”

“What floor?”

“The ICU-”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She didn’t care how many stoplights she had to run or what laws she had to break. She’d be there in fifteen minutes, damn the consequences.

Before her mom could get another word in, Jenna hung up the phone.

True to her word it only took her fifteen minutes to get to the hospital, a feat which should’ve been nearly impossible given how far away she lived. 

Jenna ran up to the nurse’s station, frantic and out of breath, “Where’s-”

Before she could finish her question alarms started blaring. Rapid beeping shot out from the computers, lights began flashing outside one of the rooms, everyone jumped out of their seats. All Jenna could comprehend from the chaos was ‘Code Blue’ and ‘Room 143’.

She watched the nurses rush down the hall towards the flashing lights, she noted doctors and other nurses rushing towards the same room as well. One of the nurses closed the blinds while another closed the door to keep the family from watching from the hall.

It took a few seconds before she realized she recognized the family. She noted your brother, looking pale and emotionless. Your mother, tears streaming down her eyes and holding onto your sister, who was crying herself, for dear life.

The alarms, your family, the term ‘Code Blue’… the realization of what was happening hit Jenna like a freight train.

“No…” Jenna didn’t want to believe it, she couldn’t. “No… No, no, no, no -”

Her legs were carrying her before she even realized what she was doing, her body acting off instinct.

She nearly tripped as a pair of arms latched onto her, holding her back from storming into the room. She tried pushing the arms off, her sights still set on the door in front of her, but it was pointless. Whoever had her wasn’t letting go.

Tears clouded her vision, but she could hear the doctors inside your room clearly; demanding voices talking about drugs and techniques, the sound of the defibrillator going, different nurses and doctors all talking over one another.

She needed you to be okay. You had to be okay.

Then, just as quickly as it all started, everything went quiet.

Jenna’s pleading had stopped, lost to her hoarse voice and sobbing cries. The doctors had all gone quiet, there was no more talk of treatments or drugs. The familiar tones of the defibrillator had stopped, no more sounds from charging or discharging. All that remained were the normal sounds of a busy hospital.

The loudest sound of all though, was the one sound that was missing. Your hospital monitor had gone silent, most likely turned off by one of the doctors or nurses. No alarms, no ticks or beeps, just cold steady silence.

“Time of death, twenty-three fifty-seven.”

Jenna heard one of the doctors say it, almost as clear as day. She never thought one little sentence could hurt her so bad, and yet, having her heart ripped from her chest would’ve been less painful.

You were gone.

Not just gone…

Dead.

[lisired]

who needs cupid’s bow?

pairing: bff!haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: bff2l, suggestive, lots of sexual innuedos but no smut, fluff, a teaspoon of angst, mc & hc are oblivious to each other’s feelings and jaemin calls them out on their bullshit, mutual pining

summary: Cupid is not on your side, it seems. He’s made you fall in love with the worst possible person ever, AKA your best friend, AKA the man who still eats tootsie-pops—willingly. And frankly, it feels like the damn candy has a better chance of dating him than you ever will.

word count: 11.1k

a/n: inspired by down for you by kehlani, boyfriend by ariana grande, and serial lover by kehlani. another oldie but i kinda like it… kinda. as always, feedback is appreciated!

It’s safe to say that Cupid is your mortal enemy (Or immortal—whatever. Nonetheless, you aren’t the biggest fan of him.)

You don’t know why, but for some inexplicable reason, he always makes you fall in love with the wrong people. Such as Lee Taeyong from eighth grade, or your failed relationship with Kim Jisoo from your biology class in high school — a pretty girl, but you were as compatible as Mentos and Coca-Cola. Hell, there was even Jung Sungchan from senior year, who you naturally drifted away from during an exam period. They’re all chapters in your book now, but you’re currently stuck on the one about your best friend, Lee Haechan.

It seems like you’re Cupid’s mortal enemy, too. You and Haechan are always side by side, down one another’s throats, there’s no way his arrow could have hit you and missed Haechan.

Perhaps, it’s a hole you dug yourself in. Via mutual friends, when you were seventeen, you met Lee Haechan — jock, senior, and the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. There was an instant connection between you two, all it took was a convo at a party about coincidentally both failing the same math exam, and you quickly became friends and close enough to pour out your heart into little rants whenever there was something personal bothering either of you, and you needed an outlet. You liked him because he understood you. He was patient witth you. You see, you aren’t the best at communicating how you feel, and he never makes you feel bad about it.

You remember breaking up with your then-boyfriend, Jung Sungchan, and while you weren’t heartbroken since you saw it coming and all the love had evaporated by then, you were devastated that you no longer had someone to kiss. That being your main concern made Haechan laugh. He thought it was the most you thing ever.

“Can I kiss you, then?” you asked, a little grin on your face, although you were very serious. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, kissing your best friend. He has pretty lips, and it isn’t like it’ll mean anything, you think. It’s just one kiss.

Haechan scoffed, biting off the last remaining piece of his Tootsie Pop off the stick. You’re kidding, he thinks. Why would you seriously want to kiss him? And after breaking up with your now ex-boyfriend? The wound’s still fresh. “You wouldn’t dare.”

To Haechan’s surprise, you dared.

He tasted like chocolate, exactly like a Tootsie Pop, as expected of him. You didn’t mind, though. You never do. It was fun, you liked the way Haechan held you in his lap and kissed you back with fierceness, and he still kisses you with that same passion, like there’s no tomorrow.

And that’s the problem.

Fast-forward four years later, you’re still best friends with Lee Haechan, only this time you’re in college, and have the fattest, most gigantic crush on him. Somewhere along the way, those lines between love and friendship were blurred. It’s impossible to pinpoint when, but you fell deep and hard for your best friend.

And the worst part? You doubt he’ll ever reciprocate those feelings.

One kiss turned into more than you can count on your fingers and toes.

Should you continue making out with your best friend who doesn’t reciprocate your romantic interest in him? Probably not.

Are you still going to, though? Absolutely.

“Y/n, I’m going to kill you,” Haechan states as he stumps inside the dining room. His hair is tussled since he’s just waken up from a nap, but you like this raw side of him. He looks gorgeous, and despite him basically threatening to murder you you still want to kiss him.

“Romantic,” you deadpan, training your eyes back on your laptop. It takes everything in you not to stare, but if you want to keep your feelings low-key, you need to follow a couple of rules.

“I know you took my Tootsie Pop. Where is it?”

You smirk a little, but it quickly fades into a line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Okay, so maybe that’s a lie, and you both know it. You aren’t the only other person in the house, but Jungwoo, Haechan’s stepbrother, is asleep and wouldn’t cut his nap time short to do something as stupid as stealing the last of his brother’s favorite candy. That leaves you. As his best friend, you’re the first person to know Haechan turns murderous over those stupid lollipops, and that he’s the last person to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie-Pop. In your personal opinion, they’re not even that good. But he’s loved them ever since you’ve known him.

“We’re best friends, y/n. I know when you’re lying,” he remarks, and doesn’t give you the chance to answer before he persists, “where is it?”

There’s only one way out of this.

Run.

Haechan follows almost automatically, and in spite of being barely awake he obviously has the upper hand because he’s always leaned more towards the sport-y side. This doesn’t deter you though, because you have a getaway plan.

In your attempt to somehow outrun a man that used to do track and field, you make a beeline for the backyard door. He’s not going to outrun you in the grass in slippers, you think as you turn to see if he’s caught up on you. You’re in the lead, albeit barely, with your body almost being in arms reach. You try to pick up your speed, and once you reach the door you hurry to turn the knob. Except, there’s one, itty-bitty problem.

The door is fucking locked.

And you already know you won’t have time to open it, so you cave in to defeat, whirling around with your hands up in a surrendering pose. Your plan’s backfired; you’ve been caught.

“Oh, I’ve got you now,” Haechan says cockily. He has you—hook, line, and sinker, and at this point you aren’t even upset. You can’t be upset. His eyes are on you, and his body is close to yours, dangerously so.

“Okay, you win. Happy?” You mumur.

“Not until I get my Tootsie Pop back,” he shakes his head, “now where is it?”

Smiling, you shrug. Of course, you know where the candy is, but he’s either going to have to win or pry the answer out of you.

Then, he steps even closer, and your heart starts pounding in your chest twenty times faster than your feet were against the hardwood. This isn’t your first rodeo, you’ve made out with your best friend countless times, yet the anticipation gives you a rush, like you’ve never done this before. It makes you feel like a teenager in love all over again — seventeen, young and head over heels in love with the man closest to you.

He’s back you into the door, and you can’t keep your eyes off his lips. Beautiful, plush, soft, and your eyes flutter shut as you prepare to feel the same skilled pair against your own, closer, and closer, and closer—

Crunch.

“I fucking knew it!” Haechan yells, jolting your eyes open. You aren’t even given the opportunity to register the situation before his hands are digging into your back pocket, retrieving his fortunately unharmed Tootsie Pop.

It feels like he’s gone before you can even blink, and realizing he’s slipped back into the hall, you begin to follow him into his room. “Hey!” you yell, and he doesn’t say anything, just looking up at you from his gaming chair with that damn candy hanging from his mouth, “why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Why’d you steal my Tootsie Pop?”

Okay, that was stupid, yes, but there was a particular goal in mind which was reached, even if for a short-lived moment.

You frown, “I wanted your attention.”

Haechan shakes his head, laughing. “C’mere.”

Somehow, those words never fail, making you melt and slip into his lap effortlessly every time. You’re like Jell-O to his voice, to his touch, to his whole. You’re a goner, some would say, and a part of you is alright with never coming back if it means you get to feel all the weird, Cupid-y emotions he makes you feel.

At this point, you don’t think you’ll ever stop kissing Haechan. In the time that you’ve been together, you’ve both been in relationships, hence putting the make out sessions on hiatus. They were never really long though, because you’d break up with them and inevitably find your way back to one another in the end.

His fingers guide your chin up, and once more your eyes flutter shut as his lips unite with yours. Haechan kisses in a manner that contrasts with the soft feeling of his lips. He always starts off gentle, but there’s a hunger that overcomes him as he stands up and pushes you against his desk, rough yet graceful and holding you so firmly, like you’re glass, but he wants to break you. And when he shatters you into all those tiny pieces, you don’t care. You want him to glue you back together and do it all over again. He’s intoxicating, he’s an addictive drug, but he tastes like candy, and you can’t stop coming back to him. He feels like home, the place where you belong. The place where you can be one-hundred percent, authentically you, safe and whole, more than the general perception than you. And fuck, does he kiss like the damn devil himself.

You were silly for ever believing it would only be one kiss.

Jungwoo thinks that for people who are trying to keep their not-so relationship-y relationship under wraps, you two are very loud.

Speaking of which, and despite the nature of your relationship, you and Haechan haven’t even discussed your label. You know that you aren’t friends with benefits—you haven’t crossed that line, but to be honest, those lines have been starting to look blurry for a while—but you also aren’t in a relationship. You see other people, you fuck other people, and when other people ask if you’re dating, you both deny it immediately. You’re just best friends, you both say each time like some rehearsed line, even if it breaks your heart to hear him friendzone you.

Karina and Mark even have an ongoing bet about you two. Karina is one-hundred positive there’s something going on, whereas Mark is probably the only person in the world that wants to give you guys the benefit of the doubt.

“For heaven’s sake, I can’t get any type of sleep around here,” Jungwoo rasps, leaning against the doorframe, “I really hope you guys don’t do this shit when Dohwan’s here.”

His judgmental eyes practically bore into your soul, and you thank heaven that you don’t have to worry about keeping this secret from Jungwoo, even if he would probably appreciate it more if you did. He finds you in a rather interesting position, straddling Haechan’s lap as you press kisses into his collarbone.

It’s all Haechan’s fault, really. Three years ago, Jungwoo made the mistake of walking inside Haechan’s bedroom without knocking, accidentally finding you two making out in a very touchy way on his bed because a certain someone didn’t think to lock the door. Not only did you ruin his quote-unquote innocence, but his perception of you forever, and ever since that ordeal, Jungwoo has never opened his stepbrother’s door without knocking. This time, it just so happened to be wide-open.

You bite your lip, feeling bad. Kim Dohwan is Haechan’s halfbrother of whom he babysits whenever available (and you like to tag on, because dealing with children is stressful and Haechan’s already stressed enough), and on weekdays Jungwoo has to wake up from his nap earlier to pick up the kid from school and bring him back home, then leave for work. You were too loud and disrupted the poor guy’s nap time.

“Oh,” Haechan says the syllable blankly, not too sympathetic, “did we wake you?”

“Of course not, I usually wake up at 2pm and take extra longs showers to start my day,” Jungwoo deadpans, “but whatever. I’m heading out. Don’t forget to go grocery shopping today.”

“Noted,” you and Haechan say simultaneously, gazing at one another and stifling giggles when you catch each other’s gaze. Jungwoo smiles at you, then flicks off his brother before parting.

When you’re both all alone again, a few seconds pass before Haechan’s eyes do that thing where they twinkle every time something catches his interest (or perhaps that’s the in love side of your brain making you see things.)

“Hey, you coming to Chenle’s Valentines Day party Monday?” You don’t know why he’s even asking, you follow Haechan everywhere he goes like a lost puppy. Maybe he’s discreetly asking you out. “Unless you’re actually busy, by the way, I hope you know you’re going. And maybe you’ll find some single pringle interested in a relationship. You can’t just kiss me forever, you know.” Oh. Well that eliminates that thought.

A part of you is yelling at you to decline, to lie and say that you actually have a dick or pussy appointment scheduled for the 14th, yet another is weak, in spite of you being aware of how this works. First of all, Valentine’s Day parties are mainly for single people who don’t have anything better to do, and each time one of you go to one, you end up meeting some stranger and hooking up with them. You know that’s more than likely what he’s going to do, and you aren’t strong enough to watch him flirt with other people.

You know how to put up a good front, though, so you’ll fake it until you make it.

“We can do a lot more than kiss,” you suggest with a wink.

Haechan grimaces, “No thanks. Now get off my lap.”

You frown, but climb off his lap nonetheless. “Wow,” you drag dramatically, “You’ll make out with me for what feels like hours, but sticking your dick in me is where you draw the line?”

“Precisely.”

You gasp in faux offense. “Oh, come on. Sex doesn’t seem so bad. Like, think of it as my pussy giving your dick a nice warm hug.”

Haechan’s at a lost for words, his face bright red. How do you even come up with this stuff? “Oh my god, are you coming or not?”

You joke, “I thought you said sticking your dick in me was where you draw the line?”

He shoots you a glare so sharp you’re sure that if you were still on his lap, he’d be barely resisting the urge to shove you off. You don’t miss the way his cheeks heat up, though.

Haechan groans exasperatedly, leaning back his gaming chair, “Y/n, seriously!”

“Fine!” resisting your best friend is literally impossible, you conclude, because you have officially caved in to his request—or, more or less, demand, rather, “fine, fine! I’ll go!”

“Great,” he grins with satisfaction, beaming with his thirty-two teeth, and you even see little gleams of smiles in his eyes, “anyway, Dohwan’s gonna be here soon, so let’s get ready to go shopping.”

You furrow your brows. You have a solid twenty minutes left, and all you really need to do is slip on your shoes.

“I need more Tootsie Pops,” Haechan adds, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense.

And you roll your eyes. “We’ll get you some more Tootsie Pops, but you better not ditch us for the candy aisle!”

“Of course, not,” he smiles, not even trying to sound or appear convincing. “I’d never leave you guys.”

That’s exactly what he does.

You aren’t even remotely surprised, though heavily disappointed when he announces in the middle of the thankfully empty cereal aisle that he’s going to find Tootsie Pops, managing to run off before you can even protest.

Gripping the shopping cart, you avert your gaze from the Cinnamon Toast Cruch boxes to his figure, almost missing him jog onto the following aisle. You shake your head, a small smile tugging your lips. If it were the end of the world, Haechan would stock up on those candies before he would even think to consider water.

“Auntie Y/N,” you aren’t quite adjusted to being addressed as an aunt, but you aren’t against it either. You have the image all put together—rich, thriving, and the kids adore you, “do you love my brother?”

That was perhaps the very last question you expected the six-year-old boy to ask you. Your eyes are a little wide, but it’s a kid, you remind yourself, so you shouldn’t be worried. But shit, then again, if a first-grader can figure it out, you’re fresh out of luck.

“Why do you think that?” You crouch down to be eye-level with him, having a feeling there’s some misunderstanding here. Dohwan’s bright for his age and doesn’t let anyone forget it, but you’ll be damned if he’s sniffed you out.

He makes a face. “I saw you kiss him, just like mommy and daddy do. And my mommy and daddy love each other very—” he stretches the vowel, and you can’t but giggle, “—much! That’s why they made me!” then he gasps, and you fear what it means, praying he doesn’t ask what you think he will. “Will you and my brother have a baby, too? I wan’ a new friend!”

On second thought, you think you’d rather he would’ve asked you what you thought he was. You nearly have a heart attack in the middle of the aisle, yet still, Dohwan gazes up at you with his innocent, sparkly eyes. You assume it’s in the blood; Jungwoo doesn’t have them, and he isn’t blood-related to Haechan, but Dohwan partially is, and the twinkle is promiment.

Calmly, you reply, “Don’t you already have a lot friends?”

He does, you both know it. You vaguely remember pulling up to his sixth birthday bash and being in shock of all the little kids jumping and flipping on the Spider-Man bouncy house. You haven’t been surrounded by that many children since, hell, probably since kindergarten.

“Yeah, but I wanna be a big brother,” he folds his tiny arms and pouts, “It’s not fair Hyuck and Woo get to be big, but I don’t!”

With minimum success, you manage to stifle your laugh, stretching out your arms to bring the little boy in for a hug, “You’ll be big one day. Trust me, you don’t wanna rush it.”

“And strong like Superman?”

“And strong like Superman,” you reassure, all smiley and convincing. “Now let’s go check up on your big brother, he’s taking too long.”

Dohwan rocks from side to side as he walks, murmuring some Nickelodeon TV show theme song, and you push the cart until you’ve reached your designation.

Quickly, you regret acting on your impatience. The scene taking place at the back of the aisle is anything but comforting—Haechan’s talking to some girl, whom of which is literally throwing herself onto him, and you can’t help but notice the way he wallows in the attention. For fucks sake, all the attention you give him and he doesn’t even give a fraction of it back! Then here comes this random girl from your campus.

Sometimes, you think about how you could do everything she’s doing right now—twirl your hair around your finger, be touchy with him, giggling girlishly at everything he says, funny or not—and yet he wouldn’t bat an eye, because you’re best friends and nothing more. Kissing each other breathless is already normalized between the two of you, what’s a little flirting.

Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t kissed your best friend that day. You’re both too comfortable, everything is too weightless. I love you, Haechan says it back without a thought. C’mere, he calls and pulls you onto his lap or cuddles you to death. Fuck, he—on very rare occasions when making out goes a little too far—groans into your ear, groping you a little. Scratch that. It may be weightless on his end, but it isn’t on yours, and everything has an everlasting effect on you.

“Auntie?”

When you look down at Dohwan, your gaze is so, so tired. Your eyes do the talking; you can’t move your lips.

He hugs your leg. “I love you.”

His face is pure, innocent, but he reads you so perfectly. The corners of your lips turn up, and you ruffle his hair, “Love ya, too. Let’s go get your brother, alright?”

He bounces eagerly, and you both begin to stroll down the aisle until you’re beside Haechan. You’re in a selfish mood today, so you think of some remark to make in the process.

“Nice Tootsie Pops, Bowlcut,” you mask your tiny emotional breakdown with a joke, “Hi, Faith.”

“Hope,” she corrects, evidently annoyed by your presence, though she doesn’t state it outright. “My name is Hope. And… bowl cut?”

“Interchangeable,” you dismiss her correction carelessly. In all honesty, you already knew her name, but you’re feeling like a bitter bitch currently, “and yeah, in high school Haechan had this hideous bowl cut that he—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Haechan grumbles, “that was four years ago!”

“And I’ll never forget,” you’re smiling blissfully, nostalgic. “Anyways, what’cha two doing?”

“We were catching up, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen Hope here,” you hear Hope snicker at this, and something about it is extremely off-putting. He turns to her, “So, I’m in a bit of a time crunch. Could I have your number?”

Ouch. Right in your face, literally.

She giggles some more, typing her number in his phone, and you try to focus on Dohwan so that you don’t cave into your desire to knock her upside the head. There’s already so much on your plate, you don’t need an assault charge.

She smiles, all bubbly and giddy. You know jealousy isn’t a good look, but it’s still pissing you off. “See you around?”

“See you around,” Haechan replies. She hugs him, not forgetting to shoot you a look from across his shoulder as she does, and only once satisfied does she turns on her heel, sashaying away.

“Didn’t know pussy was on the shopping list,” you sneer, relieved once she’s finally gone. Her presence was suffocating.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “at least I’m actually trying, I don’t know what you’re going to do when I’m cuffed down and—holy sh—I mean crap! You’re so quiet, I forgot you were here,” Haechan jumps, only noticing Dohwan when he pokes at his leg. “And don’t you dare make a cuff joke, y/n. Not in front of the kid.”

You yell in that defensive tone which is a tell-tale sign you’re lying, “I wasn’t gonna!”

Haechan gives you the look.

The we’re-best-friends, I-know-when-you’re-lying look.

And that look is utterly withering, so you decide you’re accepting defeat. “Okay fine, maybe I was thinking about it, but I wasn’t actually gonna say it. Not with him around.”

Haechan snorts, like you said something funny, but in reality he just doesn’t believe you. “Yeah, alright. Let’s finish shopping.”

You don’t argue, but there’s a lingering thought in your mind as you push the cart, rattling around in your brain still.

When he’s cuffed. Hmm. You can’t speak for him completely, but you both know how that one goes. When you get into a relationship, you think the person is great and they serve as a nice temporary distraction—that is, until you’re bored and realize no one will ever compare to Haechan, and especially not in the kissing department. So you break up, and then you go back to making out with Haechan, solidifying your suspicion that no one will ever replace your best friend. It’s the reason you don’t do relationships anymore, you feel bad for using people when you know it isn’t going to change a thing. It never does.

As far as your knowledge extends, things aren’t too different with Haechan. You and him don’t push things, you don’t pry too deep. There’s some unspoken boundary, and you know when to drop things. That’s why you both say the same thing each time you ask one another why you and whoever it was that you were previously seeing broke up—it wasn’t working out.

Like a moth to a flame, Haechan always finds his way back to you too, because apparently you’re the only person that can keep him tied down. You don’t think that’s the case, though. Your problem is you’re in love with your best friend, no matter how hard you try to suppress the feelings. His problem? You can’t be sure, but you’d guess commitment issues.

Whatever it is, and as selfish as it may sound, you want it to stay. He isn’t yours, but you like the comfort of knowing that he isn’t anyone else’s, either.

If Cupid had a human counterpart, it would be Na Jaemin in reincarnated form. He may not have wings nor a bow and arrow, but he does have dedication and a gigantic mouth.

“I can’t believe you called me over here for this,” you stand in an effort to leave, but Jaemin pulls you back down by your wrist, so you sigh, accepting that you’re stuck in the cafe and in the middle of a Jaem-terrogation.

“Not so fast, Sonic. You still haven’t answered my question. I don’t have all day, you know, I have other people’s business to be in,” he admits unabashedly, and you snort at his honesty.

Jaemin is an extremely shameless, extremely straightforward individual. He knows what he wants, how to get it, and the only time he’s afraid of letting someone know what he’s chasing for is when it interferes with his goal of obtaining said desire. He loves all things drama and gossip, and these are the lengths he’ll go to squeeze information out of you. No wonder he’s one of the writers for the campus newspaper.

“I don’t have feelings for Haechan,” you fiddle with your fork. “And even if I did, why would it matter? Haechan doesn’t have feelings for me, either.”

“Forgive me, but you’re a fucking dumbass,” Jaemin concludes, and you gasp in dramatic offense. “Why would I be here if he didn’t like you back, y/n? You know that he hasn’t had anyone over in two weeks? There’s like, three things at the top of Haechan’s list of shit he needs to survive, and that’s you, Tootsie Pops, and sex. Yet he’s gone two entire weeks without it. He likes you, really fucking bad.”

“Golly gee, Haechan hasn’t fucked anyone in two entire weeks. He must be head over heels in love with me,” you deadpan, ignoring how Jaemin rolls his eyes in response. “Be serious, Jaem. He literally got this girl’s number the other day. The man said himself that he doesn’t want to stick his dick in me. There’s nothing going on.”

Okay, so maybe Haechan is a raging sexaholic. Maybe he’s been a little horny recently. And maybe contact-full makeout sessions have been a reoccurrence in the past two weeks, but none of that matters, and he typically has extreme self control. Fresh as yesterday, he was definitely trying to get into Hope’s pants. It’s weightless, everything between you. It means absolutely nothing, and you’re trying to come to terms with the possibility that it never will. You wish your friends would accept the fact, too.

At least they don’t know you and Haechan make out, and have been for the past four years. They’d be insufferable, and you two would absolutely never hear the end of it.

“Y/n, please. Your biggest competition is those damn Tootsie Pops.”

“And if you told him that he had to live without me or the candy, he’d choose them over me any day.”

“Actually, he’d tell me to fuck off—and stop asking him stupid questions. You can’t tell me I’m wrong because I’m speaking from experience,” Jaemin grins, “I pushed the question until he gave me a proper answer. He chose you, by the way.”

You groan into your hands, “Unless you have some other evidence to provide besides this stupid question and him not getting laid in two weeks, you’re wasting my time here, Cupid.”

Jaemin sighs, “I thought I could pressure you into admitting your feelings—”

“I don’t have feelings for Haechan!”

“—that you deny having, but I guess taking the high road doesn’t work. Don’t worry, I still have plan B. I mean, you should be worried, but it’s whatever.”

You blink. “Plan B?”

He ignores you, standing up and preparing to take his leave. You’re still curious about whatever his alternative, backup plan is however, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to tell you.

“Jaemin!” You shriek. “What are you talking about?”

“February 14th, Chenle’s party,” he answers vaguely, swinging his bag over his shoulders. “Be there, or be square. Whatever that means.”

He exits without another word, leaving you dumbfounded and with a sudden dread in your chest. They don’t… know, do they? No, of course not. How could they? You’ve been keeping this secret for nearly four years, and the only people that know are Jungwoo and Dohwan.

Great. Another reason to dread the fourteenth, and despise Cupid—and his human counterpart, your actual mortal enemy.

“I know you like Regina George, but the dress code is Cady Heron.”

Bummer. You didn’t exactly plan on attending as a sexy bunny in fishnets and knee-high boots, but you don’t intend on wearing a Party City outfit, neither. It’s only the 6th though, so you still have a week and some change to outfit plan.

You frown, “Why the change? None of his past parties have had much of a dress code.”

“Because Chenle is also stuck babysitting his baby brother on Valentine’s day while his parents are having a date night,” Haechan answers. “I’m not saying you have to dress like a prude, but don’t dress like a slut, either.”

Ignoring the insinuation behind his words, you don’t miss the fact he said also. “What do you mean also? Don’t tell me…”

“Exactly what you think. Dad is whisking my stepmom away on a romantic evening date to only God knows where, and Jungwoo is busy with his girlfriend, so me being the sole single-pringle in the family gave him the bright idea to have me baby sit,” he explains, though he doesn’t seem burdened by the task. “I don’t really mind, though. It’d be one thing if I planned on getting some pussy that night, but no one’s smashing at a party where there’s children. I hope not, at least.”

You wince at that. You hope not, too. It’s a setback that you have to re-plan your outfit, but on the plus side, Haechan can and will help you decide this time, even if you have to force him.

So that’s where you find yourself a couple hours later, your bedroom a mess as the aftermath of the meticulous care you’ve put into your self-styling. You’ve narrowed it down to two outfit selections; option A, the white crop-top with the cute pink pants; or option B, the pretty and red mini-dress with stilettos. It’s a little embarrassing that hours of your indecisiveness have led you to this conclusion, but you want to choose the perfect outfit that’s also not overbearing.

“And I have to help you why?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and that’s what best friends are for, duh.”

Haechan’s favorite thing about your place is you have all his utmost favorite games—and that literally everything there is like a piece of you, from the decoration to the smell of your perfume bottles you keep in your bathroom. He’d never tell you that, though—so he wasn’t too enthusiastic about being interrupted from his video-gaming session. But then, he realized he gets a special preview of your Valentine’s day outfit, and Haechan loves the way you dress, probably an abnormal amount. Slutty or prude-y.

“Then what’cha waiting for? Strip for me, princess,” he demands jokingly. It isn’t normal for you to feel bashful by anything a guy says, but everything is so different with Haechan. It’s the littlest, simplist things that drive you over the edge, that make you want him in ways you probably, scratch that, definitely shouldn’t.

And all the questions, assumptions, and rumors regarding your nonexistent relationship with Haechan aren’t exactly unwarranted. You two flirt and touch an abnormal amount, and while it’s common knowledge that Haechan is a touchy person, and you’re a natural flirt, people say it’s extreme between you two.

That makes you laugh. When it comes to the tension between you both that people speak of, you wish you could see what they see.

“You want to watch me strip?” You’re genuinely surprised, only the other day he seemed repulsed by the thought of you naked. “That’s new. I’m guessing you haven’t gotten laid in a hot minute.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, silently confirming what Jaemin told you at the cafe, but you shake the thought away, refusing to let it spur you on. It doesn’t mean anything. “Anyways. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before, baby girl. Now, you gonna strip or what?”

“I’m stripping, I’m stripping! Relax, Liam Payne!” It’s really nothing he hasn’t seen before, because Haechan’s seen naked girls, and he’s seen you half-naked before, so neither of you actually care. You peel off your top, slowly and in a strip tease sort of way and look him in the eye, giggling once you catch him shaking his head. You don’t repeat the movement with your shorts though, simply taking them off and picking up your new shirt to slip it off the hanger.

Successfully discreet, Haechan wallows in the sight of you half-naked for as long as he can before you’re slipping on the crop top and the pink pants. Now that he thinks about it, he bought you those pants, and darn do they make your ass look good. Then he realizes he’s thinking about your ass and taking not as discreet looks at it, and shakes the thought away.

“So?” Your voice cuts through the silence. “What do you think?”

He needs a moment to gather himself and recollect his thoughts, because he feels like turning on Destiny’s Child’s Bootylicious and if spoke his mind he would definitely say something he’d regret. Like, I could fuck the shit out of you. He doesn’t think he should say that.

“What do you mean, what do I think? I bought you those pants, I’d be damned if I thought you didn’t look good in them,” Haechan supplies, making you roll your eyes in response.

“Very underwhelming reaction. I wanted you to fall out on the floor and pass out for a few seconds with your hand on your chest,” you pout.

“Definitely not doing all that,” he chuckles. “But you do look good enough for… somebody to do it. Anyways, it’s stripping time again. Get in that dress for me, princess.”

If he doesn’t stop with the pet names you’re going to combust. You hide it though, taking off outfit option A and putting on option B. You feel confident in your appearance, with or without him, but the way Haechan’s practically gawking at you does boost said confidence.

“What about this one?”

Okay, so Haechan’s one-hundred percent biased in his decision—or maybe he isn’t, since he didn’t buy this outfit—though nonetheless, he loves this dress on you. In his personal opinion, you’ll look good in anything you wear, but the way this particular dress hugs your figure perfectly is a bonus. He knows all eyes are going to be on you the moment you step inside Chenle’s house, and maybe he’s going to have to keep you and Dohwan close to his side.

Rather than replying verbally, Haechan walks forward and pulls you into a kiss. His hands dip around your waist, skirting the area until he’s gripping you like he’s afraid of letting go.

And as always, you melt into his lips. Like ice to the sun, or wax to a flame. It’s the umpteenth kiss in your whole lifetime, but Haechan always makes it feel like the first time. Like two love-struck highschoolers, except with a lot more experience. Haechan kisses you like he loves you, and you hate it. You might even loathe it.

His fingers slip down your hips, to your revealed thighs, like he just so happens to know that’s one of your weak spots. Luckily you’ve learned some of his weak spots too, and not really thinking, you don’t hesitate to aim for his most sensitive one - his neck. You can’t get used to how beautiful he sounds as he moans, your lips pressing into his sweet spot and leaving undoubtedly a mark.

“Fuck,” Haechan moans, “you’re my kryptonite, you know that?”

“A kiss is all it takes for you to fold?” You gasp out with a smirk.

“Shut up.”

Your grin widens. “Make me.”

Just as he leans in, about to pin you down to your duvet and kiss the life out of you while you’re thinking that maybe this is the tension people speak of, his phone rings in his back pocket. It feels like snapping out some trance or spell, like a reverse Cupid’s arrow, and he instantly backs off of you.

He takes a look at his phone screen. “I um, I gotta take this.”

Biting your lip, you nod. “Okay.”

“You look great though,” he comments, and you smile thinly at him as he slips from between your fingertips yet again.

It seems that you’re left all alone, pathetically wet, and wondering if that person on the other line is Hope - but you try to shake that thought off.

Sighing, you flop against your sheets. Love is some extremely cruel, extremely rigged game that only lucky people win, and it seems that Luck has sided with the evil that is Cupid. You’ve been dealt cards, and Haechan refuses to show you his hand. All you can do is watch it play out.

Haechan knew that something was dangerously off when Jaemin bought him a brand-new bag of Tootsie Pops without being asked, and invited you over for a movie night with the guys, offering to open up with you and Haechan’s all-time favorite movie, Mean Girls. He even offered to play The Kissing Booth next! Everyone else instantly protested of course, but the fact he offered in the first place is borderline suspicious.

Sure, Jaemin’s not the devil or anything, depending on who you ask. He’s… kind, and he can be a sweetheart. But Jaemin does nothing for free, and Haechan can’t shake the thought that this is planned bribery. And it isn’t hush-money. Jaemin doesn’t buy silence, he buys words.

By the time Jaemin asks Haechan to help him with the popcorn, he’s ninety-nine point nine percent sure that something is definitely wrong here. Yet still, he follows him into the kitchen.

“Alright, what’s up man?” Haechan wastes zero time, wanting to get to the bottom of all this. “I know you want something out of me. There’s no other reason you would offer to play The Kissing Booth, or buy me Tootsie Pops for free.”

Jaemin scoffs, but he doesn’t try to front, “Glad you know. Since we’re on the same page, let’s address this thing with you and y/n.”

“That’s what this is about?” Haechan grumbles. “I’ve told you, I don’t have feelings for her!” He whisper-yells.

Jaemin has heard that far too many times for it to be convincing. He’s positive that even Helen Keller herself could tell you two are hopelessly in love. Takes one to know one, he thinks. It seems the three of you must be blind, because you and Haechan are oblivious to your feelings for one another, and it’s painfully obvious.

“And Mary wasn’t a virgin,” Jaemin says ironically, making Haechan roll his eyes. “If you’re not in love with her, then explain what the hell is going on between you two. I know that she’s your best friend or whatever, but you don’t act like it at all. From a fresh perspective, someone would totally think you’re in love.”

Haechan hates that he’s right. It doesn’t make sense the amount of times you’ve gone to public places and had cashiers refer to you as a couple, or elderly people ask you if you’re together. Because you’re not. You’re best friends, and even if Haechan wants to be more than that, that’s his label. And he’s sure he’s stuck with it for life.

“You’re fucking Hope to distract yourself from your feelings for y/n,” Jaemin adds, and it’s a statement, not a question.

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Jaemin interjects. “Head over heels, in love with a girl you think doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you’re also being an ass to her, whether you know it or not.”

If Haechan was in a situation where he needed to simplify the reason you two click so well, he’d say chalk it up to compatibility and say it’s because you’re like a mirror of one another. Which also means he knows you, better than anyone else even, and he knows neither of you do the whole catching feelings things anymore. You like to fuck and flirt, and fuck some more, to avoid the fact that you love too hard. If you fuck people whose names you don’t even remember, it doesn’t mean a darn thing that you two make out.

No one really knows about that part yet. But they do know that you like to fuck, and that’s why Haechan thinks that if he’s an ass, then that means so are you. What the fuck is he doing that you aren’t?

Even if he is an ass, what is he supposed to do? He’s only recently realized that damn, he actually does have feelings for you, which is where Hope comes along and yes, he is fucking her to distract himself from you. So what? It’s not like it’s working, he’s still stuck on you, obsessed with the thought of you, craving your touch and the sound of your voice. He still loves you, and it’s so scary because no matter what his friends say, he thinks they don’t know you or your relationship like he does. They think they do, but they don’t.

“I’m not in love,” Haechan lies through his teeth, “maybe I’m in like.”

Jaemin snorts. In like? That’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. Not in love his fucking ass. “You’re in denial, that’s what you are.”

Haechan grumbles, trying desperately not to raise his voice so that the others don’t hear him from the living room, “Even if I did like her—and I’m telling you, I don’t—it wouldn’t change anything because she doesn’t like me.”

“You two are the same breed of oblivious and stupid,” Jaemin takes the popcorn out of the microwave, pouring it all into a bowl. He’s even laughing, much to Haechan’s confusion, but he’s apparently unbothered by Haechan’s lack of confession, “but fine. Lie to my face. I still have a backup plan.”

“A back-up plan?” Haechan repeats, lost.

“I just thought it would be nice of me to try and get you to confess before I have to work a Valentine’s day miracle, but unfortunately you two are a match made in heaven—both terribly stubborn,” Jaemin says vaguely, not really answering Haechan’s question, “so I guess we’ll all know the truth at Chenle’s party.”

Jaemin exits with the popcorn bowls before Haechan can even part his lips to ask another question, and he stands there, shocked and unsure of how to react. He’s concerned, though. Jaemin has something cooking (besides the popcorn), and he isn’t sure what, but it’s Na fucking gossiping blabbermouth Jaemin. That means it can’t be anything good.

So apparently when you and Haechan had that heated makeout session the other day, you left a trail - or in other words, you marked his neck the fuck up.

You hadn’t noticed because he covered it up with concealer, but you’re in the middle of another one of those when he stops you, preventing you from repeating your mistake.

“You can’t do that. People will see,” Haechan frowns. You wonder what’s the problem with hickeys. Is he embarrassed? No way. Haechan? Embarrassed? About hickeys? He has much bigger fish to fry.

In contrast, you’re over the moon. Even if he isn’t yours, marking him up makes you feel like he belongs to you. Plus, other people will see, and they’ll know that he isn’t theirs, either. Haechan also has a beautiful neck, you realize as you stare at his skin. It makes you wonder if there’s anything about him that isn’t beautiful.

“Would that be so bad?” You ask. “You’d look sexy all marked up by me.”

Haechan groans, “Do you ever think with your head and not your pussy?”

“I wish my pussy was my head. My head’s just so full of you,” you sigh dramatically.

It’s rare for Haechan to blush, but you somehow manage to make him full-on flush sometimes and you take that as an achievement. It’s partially the reason you love flirting with him so much, he’s so reactive. His reactions are cute sometimes.

“Be serious for 5 seconds,” he whines, and you giggle.

“I was serious,” you insist, “but fine, I’ll think with my head since yours is clearly not working. No one’s gonna assume they’re from me, Hyuck. Just tell them they’re from one of your hoes.”

“I know, but it’s not them I’m worried about. It’s, um…” he trails off.

You’re confused, blinking. If not your friends, then who on earth—oh, for fucks sake.

“It’s Hope,” you utter tonelessly.

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” he wonders why you suddenly sound so dry, and then the whole grocery shopping thing seeps back into his mind. You obviously don’t like Hope, and it’s not just you, really. Lots of people don’t like her. But Haechan needs a pretty face to compete with the image of yours in his head, even if it isn’t winning. “She kinda likes me, and—”

“Do you like her?” You don’t mean to ask so fast. It slips, like your mouth has a mind of its own.

Haechan shrugs. No, he doesn’t like her. He likes you, but he thinks that maybe he can somehow convince himself it’s the other way around. So he replies, “Maybe.”

Fuck. You try not to appear suddenly devoid of life, forcing a cheery smile. “That’s… nice,” you lie through your teeth. “Let me take this opportunity to have one last kiss before I possibly never will again?”

Haechan snickers, to silently say as if. He isn’t wrong for it, either. One kiss is never one kiss with him — never has been, never will be. There’s a reason you both bonded over bombing a math exam.

D-day rolls around, and you’re eyeing your frame in your full-length mirror, smoothing your palms over your dress as you give yourself a quick once-over before the clock strikes 7PM. You look like that bitch, and everyone in that party is going to fucking know it because you’re going to walk in there like that bitch. Fuck Cupid. You don’t need his stupid bow. And fuck Haechan, too. He’s your ride, but he’s gonna ditch you at some point in the party like he always does. It’ll be no different now, and this time, you’ll be the first one to leave.

The chime of the doorbell jolts you from your mental slumber, and you quickly reach for your purse then head towards the door with a heavy heartbeat. You know he’s already seen you in this dress, he chose it for fucks sake, but there’s something else that gets your heart racing—no. You can’t think about him. Fuck Haechan, remember? He’s no good for you.

“Here goes nothing,” you mutter to yourself, palm on the doorknob, “you can do this.”

Haechan’s sucks in a breath the moment you open the door. You look gorgeous. You always do, but in this particular moment, you look better than you ever have before. Those corny romance sayings usually make him laugh with mirth, but he’s genuinely convinced you look better everyday that he sees you. All dressed up like this, or not.

“You look so pretty, Auntie!” Dohwan beats him to a compliment.

You bend down to ruffle the boy’s hair, “Thank you, Dohwan. You look very handsome.” And then you look at Haechan.

He looks handsome as well, unfortunately. Jet black hair, exposed forehead, and his outfit is black with red hearts in the center of the shirt. You try not to pay him too much mind, but your heart and the place between your thighs don’t seem to agree with your mind. He catches you looking at him, and feels a twinge of anxiousness in his heart. Get it together, man, he tells himself. Lee Donghyuck doesn’t get nervous looking at pretty girls. Lee Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate about his actions, either, wondering if he should hold your hand, he doesn’t rethink what he should say. It all comes to him naturally.

“Yeah, you look beautiful,” he settles, mentally cursing himself for being unable to think of anything else. He blames you. Ever since you first snuck in his mind, you’ve been living rent-free there, and make it hard to think about anything else sometimes. That’s why he thought that needed distractions.

If you could relay the message to your heart, you’d tell it stop beating. Instead, you mask your emotion, smiling. “Thank you, likewise. Now c’mon, we gotta get there by 7:30!”

Haechan’s saddened by the dismissal, but you don’t catch his face as you walk to his car.

If you ignore him, you can do this.

Haechan cannot do this.

Something isn’t right. It wasn’t right the second he noticed you gave him a simple, rushed compliment, not bothering to make some sexual remark that usually makes Haechan’s cheeks feel like fire. You didn’t even kiss him before you got in the car. And Haechan’s sure you’ve been avoiding him like the plague, scurrying off and getting lost in the red and pink sea before he could even ask you if you wanted to check out the drink menu.

He doesn’t know where you are, and that haunts him. Turns out Chenle is paying Yangyang, Ten and Jisung to keep the kids entertained on one end of the house, whilst the adults do adult-y things on the other. You could be with someone else for all he knows, hell, you probably are. He was practically fuming when he saw some people staring at you as you walked in.

“Uh oh, I think y/n divorced Haechan,” Chenle jokes, and a choir of laughs follows suit.

Haechan grumbles, “A guy can’t miss his girl best friend?”

“Of course, you can,” Chenle drawls, “but everyone knows she’s more than just a friend to you. Like even if you aren’t together, there’s no way you guys don’t have feelings for each other.”

“Right? And they’re so cute together, too. A literal match made in heaven by angel Cupid,” Jaemin agrees, speaking as though Haechan isn’t right there.

“You’re dating y/n?” gasps Karina, overhearing Jaemin much to Haechan’s dismay. Oh, great, she’s as much as a blabbermouth as he is. The whole world’s going to think Haechan’s dating you in five minutes or less.

“No!”

“Yes, he is, spread the word,” Jaemin says, already knowing he doesn’t have to tell her. Karina’s mumbling I knew it under her breath before jogging somewhere.

“You know,” Haechan starts, downing a shot because if he’s not at least tipsy he’s going to die at this party, “she’s been making me watch murder documentaries with her and I’ve definitely picked up a thing or two. I’d be careful.”

Jaemin scoffs, “Please. You’re going to be kissing my ass and the ground that I walk on by the time this party’s over.”

There it goes. Haechan wonders what’s so special about tonight that Jaemin’s been hinting at vaguely. It’s been keeping him on his toes, but he doesn’t ask because he knows Jaemin, and he isn’t going to tell him a thing. The one time this guy wants to keep something secret.

An hour flies by, and Haechan still hasn’t seen you. He’s looked for you, and refuses to believe his eyes are somehow missing you, even though you’re in a crowd. He literally went up the stars and gazed over the railing for a better view, and you were no where to be found. You’ve refused to answer your phone, too, and Haechan doesn’t know what to do. He would just start talking to some random chick, but that’s not what Haechan wants. He doesn’t want some random chick. He wants to be with you. Hold you. Touch you. Kiss you, with no shame, no fear, in front of everyone, and he isn’t in denial about it. He wants you.

And Jaemin is fed up.

“Alright, I’m tired of you moping around drinking like a divorced man. Let’s go to the kitchen,” Jaemin suggests. Or commands, but still.

Haechan quirks a brow. “Where there’s nothing but more drinks?”

“Trust me, I’m not letting you drink anymore tonight. You have a wife and a kid to drive home,” Jaemin jokes. Usually he’d deny any sort of relationship with you that isn’t best-friendship, but Haechan simply shakes his head, following his friend and roommate into the kitchen.

Then he sees you, and his jaw doesn’t just drop, but it falls flat on the ground, bounces a little, and comes back down. You’re clinging to Chenle’s side with a confused face, equally as surprised to see him, though not very delighted.

“What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?”

You stare at one another.

“Stop copying me!”

“Stop copying me!”

Jaemin and Chenle stare at one another, then stare at you two staring at one another, and stare at one another again.

“I hate to interrupt your… stare-off, but there’s a reason we brought you two here,” Jaemin interjects, making you two finally split gazes as you stare at him, confused.

“Which is?”

“Which is?”

You glare at him. Jaemin’s success was short-lived, it seems.

“Drum roll, please,” he says, and Chenle begins tapping against the counter, “Dohwan!”

Suddenly, Dohwan pops up from around the corner. He’s on the completely wrong side of the house, and while he’s under adult supervision, you still wonder why he’s here.

You blink. “What’s he doing here?”

Jaemin smirks. “I’m glad you asked. Dohwan tells me he’s witnessing some very interesting sights of the two of you. Go ahead and tell us what you saw, kiddo.”

“I saw Haechan and Auntie y/n kissing, like mommy and daddy do!” Dohwan shares, grimacing in disgust. If you weren’t practically fearing for your life right now, you’d probably laugh at his reaction.

“And how often do you see this?” Chenle adds.

“Um…” the kid ponders, “every time Auntie y/n comes over. I heard them say they wanted to keep it a secret from me, but they’re not very good at it.”

Haechan shoots you a panicked look, and you’re wearing the exact same one. By the time you realize that this is what Jaemin’s been hinting at this whole time, it’s much too late. Your secret has been exposed to the worst people ever, and now they’re definitely going to think you’re dating. 

“Thank you for your input, Dohwan,” Jaemin smiles, then turns to look at you and Haechan. You’re both frozen and stiff, unsure of how to respond. “So, anything to say about this?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Haechan’s quick to say. You hope no one catches the way your face falters with hurt for a split second. “If you want me to be honest, then fine, I will. Yeah, we kiss. We’ve been kissing since high school, but it didn’t mean anything then and it doesn’t mean anything now. We just, I don’t know, do it for fun.”

Chenle deadpans, “So you just kiss for pure, innocent fun.”

“Exactly,” Haechan nods. “It means nothing.”

It means something to me, you think to yourself, and when you notice the silence in the room, you gaze up to see everyone’s eyes on you, Haechan’s a little wide. Oh, fuck.

“I said that aloud, didn’t I?”

“Yep,” Jaemin grins. He was right. “Is there something you want to share with the class?”

Stupidly, you decide to look at Haechan, and he’s re-lost his composure, frozen up and stiff all over again. Your heart is pounding harder than it has been all night. It’s partially the alcohol, but you can feel it in your veins and all around you. It won’t leave you alone, and looking at Haechan, it’s faster, as if to say he’s the one I want.

So you choose to make another decision that you might possibly regret, but you have to get this off your chest. It isn’t news to anyone but Haechan anyways.

“Donghyuck,” you start, and he knows it’s getting serious because you just said his government name. You literally never call him by his government name. “I know we agreed to keep things platonic, and for it to mean nothing, but I want you. Like really, really bad. I think I—no, everyone’s right, I really am, extremely in love with you. If you don’t feel the same I understand, I just had to get this off my che—”

You aren’t given the chance to finish before Haechan swoops you in his arms, reaching for your waist as he pulls you into a kiss. There’s a chorus of cheers from Chenle and Jaemin, followed by a shriek of disgust from Dohwan as he covers his eyes, but you two aren’t trying to hide anymore, you want to scream from the rooftops that you’re in love. Yes, the infamous Lee Donghyuck and y/n know more than flirting and fucking. You’re in love, drunk off of a sip of it and the taste of Haechan’s lips, and god, has kissing your best friend never felt better.

“Let’s give the newlywed couple some privacy now,” Jaemin says with a grin. Gosh, he really is the spawn of Cupid, but you have to thank him. This wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for his stupid ‘gotcha!’ plan. “You two work this out.”

The three of them pile out, and you and Haechan part from one another to breathe. You stay in comfortable silence for a moment, his hands slipping into yours.

“Your hands are sweating,” you comment after a while.

“It’s hot.”

“It’s the middle of February.”

“So? Global warming is real, you know,” Haechan shrugs, refusing to acknowledge the fact that his hand is sweating because he’s nervous. He’s accepted that you make him feel all warm inside and his heart feel like mush, but he still isn’t used to not hiding the way you make him feel.

You laugh but don’t press things. “Newlywed couple, huh. Can’t be, you still haven’t popped the question.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, too. “Then will you take my hand in marriage and take me as your illegally wedded husband?”

You hum, pretending to contemplate, “Hmm, I don’t know. You sure you don’t wanna marry a giant cardboard Tootsie Pop cutout? Or what about that girl? What happened to her, by the way, I thought you said you liked her.”

Haechan groans, not really wanting to think about her right now, “No more Hope. Ironically, she’s a lost cause. I had to cut shit with her because she can’t comprehend what a fling is. She wanted a relationship, and you know, I lied to you when I said that I might want her. I didn’t know you liked me back until, like, now, so I was just saying shit in hopes of convincing myself I could stop liking you. That planned failed, though.”

His words lift a massive weight off of your shoulders, and you finally feel like you can breathe now. Take that, bitch, you think with a smirk. She was giggling in your face so hard at the grocery store, but you’re having the last laugh.

You tilt your head. “What about the Tootsie Pops?”

“Yeah, sorry but I can’t give them up as easily. Would you mind a Tootsie Pop bouquet?”

Gosh, this is the man you love. You roll your eyes, but smile as you reply, “You know, you’re like a Tootsie Pop.”

If Haechan were a dog, his ears would perk up right now. “How come?”

“I’ll never know how long I’ll be able to kiss you without wanting to fuck you,” you lean in his ear to purr, voice tickling his neck. You eye it and his lips, and lord knows you can’t wait to finally be able to mark him up again.

“Yeah? Wanna go home, put Dohwan to sleep, and let me take this dress off you?” He grips at your waist, his hand resting there with the burning urge to dip lower. He bites his lip.

“Thought you drew the line at sticking your dick in me,” you joke.

“That was when I was in denial about wanting you,” Haechan whispers, “but now I can admit to myself that even though you amazing in this dress, I wanna take it off of you. Your body’s perfect.”

“I kinda hate the scar on my thigh.”

“Don’t. It provides depth to your character. It makes someone wonder how you got it, the story of how it happened,” he answers, ever so deeply.

“Poetic,” you snort, “can’t tell if you’re giving me Bruno Mars or John Legend vibes more right now.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, smiling. “You said you’d never know how long you’d be able to kiss me without dying to fuck me, right?”

“I never said dying.”

He ignores you, “Then let’s put it to the test, shall we?”

Your lips wind up pressed firmly to his, with your hands on his cheek and his palms on your hips yet again. It’s fiercer than ever, Haechan’s kissing you like he doesn’t want to let you breathe, like he wants to stay in this moment with you forever. He kisses you with love and lust, with passion and desire, with emotion and no more fear in his chocolate-y eyes. You don’t regret kissing Haechan that day. It took a while, but it brought you to this moment where you can finally call him yours. And that one more kiss stuff is bullshit. His lips are yours and vice versa, and as you’re by each other’s side, you’ll never stop kissing him. And he’ll never stop kissing you.

“They’re here!” Karina suddenly bursts into the kitchen, pointing at you and Haechan. “Look! I told you they were dating!”

Oh, god. You totally forgot about Karina’s stupid bet with Mark. Mark looks entirely devastated and surprised, devastated because that’s twenty-five bucks gone from his wallet, and surprised because he genuinely believed you and Haechan have been best friends this whole time. Technically, he isn’t wrong, but you’re not sure if you want to interrupt to tell them that.

Mark whines, “Oh, c’mon! I really thought you guys were just friends.”

“Pay up, loser,” Karina smirks, and with a pout, Mark pulls cash from his pockets.

Haechan looks at you, and while you don’t say anything, you can tell you’re both thinking the exact same thing. The whole campus is about to know you two are dating. Karina’s for sure going to tell everyone she knows, hell, probably even people she doesn’t know, and there’s a ninety-nine point nine percent chance of Jaemin raining your business on everyone in his latest report for the school newspaper.

You can’t say that you care, though. This is what you wanted, to unashamedly love Haechan, to be able to state it proudly in front of everyone, to let everyone know, to claim him as yours and yours only. So fuck Cupid. Fuck his bow, fuck his arrow, because this relationship is all a product of you and Haechan’s hard work and dedication.

Who needs Cupid’s bow when you have tasty lips and Tootsie-Pops?

“You’re telling me you’ve been in love with me for the past four years? Oh, you’re a soldier. I would have given up in the first month.”

You snort. Part of becoming Haechan’s girlfriend is the process of telling one another the secrets you’ve been keeping, such as how long you can been in love. Haechan’s been in love with you for a solid year, he thinks, maybe two, but it’s been almost four years for you, on the other hand.

“If only it were that easy,” you sigh. “Trust me, I tried getting over you by getting under other people—how Jessie Reyez of me—but that didn’t work out, obviously.”

“You are too much like me,” Haechan shakes his head. “What made you think we should anyways?”

“You mean, four years ago, or now?”

Haechan shrugs. “Either. Give me three reasons.”

“Oh, brace yourself. I could do a presentation on this. One, we know each other’s McDonald’s orders. Two, like you said, we’re very alike. When have we ever argued over pizza toppings?” You reason. “Three, I can’t imagine kissing anybody else. I mean, we’ve basically been practicing on each other for the past four years. I’m the reason you can kiss so good, it would insane for you make out with other people. Four, I have a fat ass and sometimes I catch you staring at—”

“I said three reasons!” Haechan cries, face blooming red as a rose.

“I could go for a fifth,” you grin, “we’re both terrible at math.”

“Damn right we are,” he mutters. “But that’s what makes us… us, isn’t it? The only reason we’re dating right now is because we couldn’t resist kissing each other after one time.”

He’s right. It practically only took one kiss to fall in love with Haechan. He’s giving you major Dua Lipa vibes right now.

“I know you’re thinking about that Dua Lipa song right now.”

You smirk. “You know me very well.”

He tilts his head. “And what else are you thinking about?”

“That you look like all I need,” you say in tune, making Haechan laugh. “And I just want to feel your skin on mine.”

“Then we should do something about that, right?” Haechan smirks back.

You’re kissing the smirk right off his lips seconds later, and this is where you decide that you just can’t get enough of him. Even if one kiss is all it takes, you’re greedy for more, and more, and more, until both your lips are swollen and you’re both gasping for air.

[misctf]

Reversal Agents II: Going Back

Hey! I felt like making a sequel to the The Reversal Agents. Similar concept, similar characters, but instead with an inanimate tf focus. Hope you enjoy and please dm with any story requests!

“Wh-where am I?”

It was so bright. He could make out blurry shadows- people shuffling around him. He could hear voices.

“He’s awake!”

“Sir, can you tell us your name?”

It was all so much. The hard floor on his back. The blinding lights shining in his face. He moved his arm and looked at his hand. His hand? He stared at it, slowly moving his fingers. It felt foreign to him. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, so he lowered his arm and continued to look around.

“Sir, can you tell us your name?” The voice was more forceful now.

“Tim Hoffer.” He whispered. It was hard to talk. His mouth was dry, “Where... where...” It was getting hard to talk again. And he couldn’t feel his fingers.

“His form isn’t stable!” Someone shouted.

“Stabilizers! Stat!”

Tim could feel someone press something onto his chest and he felt dizzy. The world around him spun and he fell unconscious. From the viewing room, Detective Hart and Detective Philips watched the scene unfold. Hart frowned and turned to the senior detective.

“Stabilizers?” He asked, “Why...”

“Some transformations linger.” Philips interjected, “Especially these inanimate ones for whatever reason. We often use these to prevent reversions.” They watched Tim closely, “Usually the stabilizers come off sooner rather than later. We just follow-up with them closely.”

“Poor kid.” Hart commented.

Philips chuckled, “Could you imagine? Six months as a pair of underwear?”

“Show some sympathy. It’s not funny.” Hart replied, earning him a curious look from his superior.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Philips replied. He took a deep breath, “Come on, we’ll let the professionals handle this. I want to go home and that paperwork won’t finish itself.”

_____________________

It still felt strange. The warmth of his own skin. Moving his arms and legs. Talking. He shuddered. The memories were still somewhat hazy. There was a baseball game. Against their university’s main rival. Big game, huge crowd. His girlfriend cheering him on. He stepped up to bat. Hit the game winning homerun. It was incredible- the memory caused him to smile. But afterwards, it got hazy. He stayed behind to talk to coach- everyone else left. After their talk, he started heading back to his dorm to meet his girlfriend. There was a huge party planned. But he was jumped by Tyler, the rival team’s catcher. He pulled out what looked like a gun... and then...

“Tim?”  

Tim looked away from the window and in the direction of Detective Hart. He sighed. It had been a few weeks since his reversal. And the Department of Affairs Related to Transformation set up several follow-up sessions for him to talk things through. Hart, for his part, enjoyed this part of the job. He could do more to help the victims of forced transformations.

“Sorry, just a bit distracted.” Tim replied.

Hart raised an eyebrow, “I know it’s been a tough few weeks. Getting back into your normal routine...”

“It’s not just that.” He sighed, “I... Sometimes...” He looked away, “It’s nothing.”

Hart looked at him quizzically. But Tim maintained his poker face. How could he tell Hart that he sometimes missed his time as a pair of underwear? Yeah, it was terrifying at first. He hated it. He hated how his face was pressed against his tormentor’s cock. How his body was stretched across his massive muscular ass. The protein farts, the sweat, the days his captor jerked off into him. But as he lost track of the days, it became easier to accept that he was just underwear. No worries, no thoughts, just unwashed and used.

“It’s okay.” Hart replied, “We’ll continue to work through this. And remember, if you ever need me, you can call.”

_____________________

If there was anything Tim continued to enjoy, it was going to the gym. And with college starting again soon and the baseball season, he wanted to stay in shape. Today was leg day and he was trying his best to focus on his squats. As he looked up after finishing a set though, he couldn’t help but stare at the man bench pressing in the corner. Or more specifically, the bulge in his tight gym shorts. The man was around his age and built. His shirt drenched in sweat. When he saw Tim looking at him, he flashed him a smile. Tim blushed and went back to his squats.

‘God damn it.’ He thought, ‘Why does this keep happening?’

Following his transformation, it seemed that he developed a sexual preference for men. A week after his transformation was reversed, he attempted to reconnect with his girlfriend. But when their date night got to the bedroom, it was less than enjoyable for both of them. He couldn’t get hard. Despite years of being together and never having an issue, he just couldn’t. They broke up soon after. But maybe it was a one off thing. He desperately watched the porn vids that always worked for him, and similarly had no such luck. But when he thought about men... particularly, their muscular thighs and their sweaty cocks, he had no issue getting off. Tim jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“I’ll be in the last shower stall.” The man said.

Tim nodded and watched as the hunk walked towards the locker room. He felt his heart pound in his chest. It had been so long since he did anything with anyone. And he resisted his urge to actually do anything with a guy. But... it had been so long. Tim entered the locker room and did just what the guy had told him too. He stripped down to nothing and entered the shower stall, finding the other man there, naked.

“I saw you checking me out.” The guy said with a grin.

But Tim didn’t really hear anything. He was focused more on the man’s erect cock. Tim was soon on his knees, his hands feeling the man’s thighs and ass. All the while, the man was rubbing his cock against Tim’s face.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” The man said, “Come on, you fucking slut.”

A part of Tim felt horrified. He felt dirty and wrong. A few months ago, he would’ve never done something like this. Never. But as he licked along the man’s shaft, tasting the glistening sweat, he shuddered with pleasure. It was so familiar, so right. He slowly swallowed the man’s cock, wrapping his arms around the man’s muscular ass. This felt right. This was right. He bobbed up and down on the man’s cock, causing him to moan. Yeah, just an object. Just to be used. He felt the man’s cock start to throb and he knew what was coming. And as the man came down his throat, Tim was filled with pleasure- it was so familiar. It reminded him of all the days his captor would cum on his fabric face. But that feeling soon dissipated and the weight of what he just did hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Fuck...” The man sighed, “You wanna exchange...”

But Tim had fled. He quickly got back into his clothes and headed towards the locker room exit. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes- this wasn’t right, this was wrong. He wasn’t...

“Tim?” Tim’s eyes widened when he heard a familiar voice. Detective Hart was looking at him, dressed in nothing but a pair of tight underwear, “Hey, are you...?”

But again, Tim didn’t really hear anything he was saying. Instead, he was focused on the bulge in Hart’s underwear. He knew Hart was on the younger side, maybe a few years out of college, but he never saw him nearly naked. His muscles were lean. His ass firm. His underwear... Tim felt jealous of it... And he felt a strange affection for the detective.

“Tim?”

“I-I’ll see you later!” Tim said, fleeing from the locker room.

_____________________

Tim was lying in his bed, his hand wrapped around his cock. Ever since returning from the gym, he couldn’t get the image of Hart out of his head. But even more, he couldn’t help but feel jealous of the underwear tightly wrapped around his cock. Tim cursed and ran a hand through his hair. Why did it have to be like this? Why did he miss being used underwear? He moaned when he thought about the first night Tyler jerked off into him. Tyler had pawed at his cock through Tim’s fabric face. At first he hated it, but night after night, multiple times per day, he anticipated it. Felt excited. It was his purpose.

“Fucking hell.” He whispered. He stared at the stabilizer on his chest and sighed, “No.” He whispered. He grabbed his phone and called Detective Hart. He needed to talk with him, “Hey, can I come talk to you? I know it’s real late, but I really need to... Yes... thank you so much, I’ll be right over.”

When Tim arrived at Hart’s apartment, he was sweating and his heart was pounding. Hart greeted him and the two men were sitting on the sectional in the living room. Hart was looking at him, worry in his eyes.

“So you wanted to talk?” Hart asked.

“I... I’m having a hard time.” Tim whispered, “I sometimes miss it. I miss being underwear.” Tim felt a weight leave him as he admitted his truth, “Ever since the transformation reversed, I just...”

“This isn’t uncommon.” Hart replied, “And I want you to know its normal.” He reassured, “I’ve been learning a lot about inanimate transformations, especially cases similar to yours. It usually takes a bit, but things will start to normalize more as time goes on.”

Tim nodded, feeling comforted by Hart’s words, “I... that does make me feel better.” He whispered. He sighed, “I need to splash some water on my face.”

Tim stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and took a deep breath. Maybe... maybe everything would be okay. He just needed to stay strong. He could go back to his life... maybe rekindle with his girlfriend. Life would be okay.

But then he saw it. Thrown and discarded in the corner of the bathroom was a pair of Hart’s underwear. Tim felt his heart pounding as he bent over and picked it up. The smell was intoxicating. Sweaty, manly musk filled his nostrils. The fabric in his hand was so soft. He shuddered and looked at himself in the mirror. There he was. Tim Hoffer. College baseball jock. Business Administration major. Good grades, attractive, smart. There he was- ravenously rubbing his face in another man’s underwear. He frowned as he removed his shirt and stared at the stabilizer on his chest. And without another thought, he pulled it off.

_____________________

“Hey Tim, are you okay?” Hart knocked on the bathroom door. It had been a little bit of time, and he grew concerned. He looked at his phone and sighed. He quickly messaged the guy he was planning to hook-up with that he needed to cancel, “Tim, can I...”

But the door opened and Tim was standing there, completely undressed. Hart’s eyes widened at the sight and he quickly took a step back. And that’s when he noticed it. There was no stabilizer on his chest.

“Tim...?”

He hadn’t expected Tim to close the distance between them so fast. Nor did he expect the passionate kiss that followed. Hart broke away and looked at Tim, who smiled at him. His hand was resting against Hart’s slowly growing erection.

“Tim, you... I...”

Tim smiled and again kissed Hart passionately. And this time, the detective reciprocated. The two continued to make-out passionately, with Hart leading him back to the bedroom. Tim’s eyes were wild as he stripped away Hart’s clothes, revealing the toned muscle he had seen earlier. His tongue quickly roamed along the detective’s abs and he shuddered at the sound of Hart’s moans. And when Tim finally made his way down to Hart’s stiff cock, he licked along the length of the shaft, savoring every moment. He looked up at Hart, who’s eyes were shut tight from the pleasure, his mouth open in a silent moan. Tim sighed. He didn’t have much time left. He could feel it in his body. And so, he quickly took the length of Hart’s cock into his eager mouth.

‘Here it goes...’ He thought, a sense of relief filling him.

And just like that first night, he could feel it. He felt his arms move on their own, wrapping around the back of Hart’s waist. And when his hands came together, they began to fuse. At the same time, he could feel his pecs and abs start to vanish, the air in his lungs being forced out as his body flattened. But all the while, he kept Hart’s cock in his mouth, doing his best to provide pleasure even as his body changed. He grunted as his legs fused together and lose their features. His skin was taking on a white hue. And slowly, his body started to shrink. As it did, he felt what had been his abdomen and legs curve upwards along Hart’s taint and fuse with his clasped hands.

‘I feel... it feels...’ Tim’s mind was filling with pleasure. With anticipation. He could feel Hart’s firm ass fill the tight fabric of his new body, ‘Just underwear... underwear...’

And slowly, he felt his face start to flatten out against the detective’s throbbing cock. His handsome features vanishing and shifting into white fabric. And a few moments later, Hart was alone in the room. His throbbing erection tenting in his new underwear. And the horny detective couldn’t help but wrap his hand around his throbbing member- pressing Tim’s face firmly against his cock. And after a few strokes, he came, filling his new underwear with his seed.

_____________________

When Detective Hart woke up the next morning, he yawned and rubbed his cock through his underwear. But the events of the previous night quickly returned to him. He looked down at his cum stained underwear- Tim- and felt his heart pounding. How could he do this? He was supposed to reverse transformations, not engage in them. He quickly threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. It was the weekend, so the office shouldn’t be too busy. He could reverse this again. It would be okay. He ran to the office, working up a musky sweat that seeped into Tim’s new form. He tried to ignore how good the soft fabric of Tim’s new body felt against his semi-hard member.

“Come on... come on...” He whispered as he entered his office. He was desperately looking for the key to the reversal chamber.

“Oh Detective Hart, you look a little stressed today.” Hart looked up to see Detective Philips standing at the door to his office, “Tough night?” He gave the detective a knowing look.

“Look, something happened and...”

Philips smiled, “Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing.” He walked over to Hart, “Inanimate transformations... difficult to come back from.” He chuckled, “Sometimes, it awakens their true purpose. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“What are you saying?”

“You wouldn’t be a reversal agent if you didn’t, well...” He smirked and rubbed his growing bulge, “It’s hard to come by good quality underwear. We’ll leave it at that.”

Hart watched as Philips left his office, the smirk never leaving his face. The younger detective sighed and stared at the key to the reversal chamber in his hand. And with another sigh, he put it away.