#It’s not bad cause she doesn’t snore (I do)

[dragon-phoenix-along]

Staircases are my favorite places <3

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, fuck.”

The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.

“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”

“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”

“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.

They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.

“You still okay?”

“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”

She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”

“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”

“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”

“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”

“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”

“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”

“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”

“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”

“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”

“Wha — you do so!”

She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.

“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”

“And you deserved it,” she says primly.

He gapes. “I did not!”

“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”

She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!

“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.

Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”

“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”

“Literally no.”

Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.

“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”

Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.

“Hey, Will.”

He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.

“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”

Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”

He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.

She shrugs.

“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”

Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.

The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.

But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.

With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.

“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.

“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.

Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”

“You said.”

“It’s just busy, is all.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”

“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”

“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”

Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.

“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”

Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”

“Shoot.”

Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.

Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”

Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.

Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.

Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.

“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”

Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —

“Nico!”

The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.

Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.

“Nico! Hi!”

“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.

“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”

Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”

Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.

“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.

“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”

Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”

“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”

“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.

“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”

A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.

“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”

Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”

“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”

A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”

Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”

“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”

“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”

“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.

On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.

Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.

“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”

“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”

Will’s face is a similar shade.

“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”

Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.

“That better?” he asks softly.

Nico swallows. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”

“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.

Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”

With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.

“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”

“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”

“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.

Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.

“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”

Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.

“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”

Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.

“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”

Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.

“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”

“Your face!” Percy shrieks.

“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”

“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”

Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”

“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”

Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”

“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”

“Hey, I earned that.”

Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.

“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.

Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”

[i-like-what-this-says-about-you]

every house md episode part 2

random girl: hey gramps! let’s go for a run! get them juices flowing!

gramps: i’m a bit old, katy, so we’ll have to go slow

*they go running*

gramps: hhhh. hHhHhH

katy: you ok gramps? you need your inhaler?

gramps: o mi god katy your eyes are bleeding..

katy: *faints*

*INTRO MUSIC*

house: *bouncing ball around in his office, daydreaming about wilson*

cuddy: HOUSE the clinic is BACKED UP get in there NOW

house: no but i’ve got a case *lying*

cuddy: sure you do… get down there now

at the clinic

house: *sighs and picks up a file*

cameron: *runs up to house* i have a case!

house: i’ll take it! CUDDYYYY I HAVE A CASE FOR REALS NOW

cuddy: *is in distress*

house: *scurries away*

*** house: what’s the case

cameron: a girl fainted while running—

house: how unusual

cameron: running with her grandfather. and her eyes started bleeding

house: *snoring sounds*

cameron: … and uh she has low potassium—

house: she ugly?

cameron: what? no

house: you always pick the ugly ones

cameron: no i don’t

house: so why’d you pick her? why do you feel bad for her?

cameron: i don’t i just thought her case was interesting.

house: a girl who doesn’t enough bananas is interesting?

cameron: her eyes started bleeding!

house: is she a widow?

cameron: she’s 17!

house: so?

they walk into the office

chase: wow… she lost both her parents and lives with her grandfather…

house: bingo!

***

the office is silent as the ducklings read katy’s file

house: please, not everybody all at once..

foreman: it’s a brain clot. got activated when she went running.

house: bad. next

chase: it’s lady gaga virus! that’s why it came on suddenly

house: check for a brain clot

foreman: *evil smirk*

*** cameron is in the patient’s room getting blood

cameron: it must be hard… both parents dead. living with your grandfather

katy: i don’t need your pity

*** chase: *walking into the office with the other minions behind him* it’s not a brain clot

house: hmmmm…

chase: back to lady gaga virus—

house: it is NOT lady gaga virus you idiot

cameron: maybe an eyeball embolism caused by a seizure?

house: and why would she have had a seizure?

cameron: low potassium causes invisible seizure syndrome. she wouldn’t have noticed it.

house: that’s 1 in a million rare… i like it. do five blood cultures

the minions obey

***

cameron: it’s not eyeball embolism!!

chase: LADY GAGA VIRUS

house: FOR THE LAST TIME, IT IS NOT— *epiphany* omygod it’s lady gaga virus…

chase: *evil smirk*

*** the patient has recovered.

wilson: it is now time for my 5 minutes of screen time

[safination]

The Actual Competitor

|Masterlist| Ao3| Part 1: The Wrong Competitor Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader. Platonic!Rosie & Reader, Platonic! Alastor & Rosie Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, , Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, being a simp for your partner, husband! Alastor. demon!Alastor, ,flirting, flowers, feathers

The doors to Rosie’s Emporium open with the sound of a bell. It’s quite empty today. Not many Sinners stalk the halls of her shop. Rosie’s head snaps when she hears the bell, smile widening when she spots you with Alastor. You take a step forward and present the flowers to her with a small bow. “For you, Miss Rosie,” you say. “How I have absolutely missed you!” Rosie snatches you into a hug, pulling you flush against her into the tightest of hugs. There’s a sly smile on Rosie as she turns her eyes towards him, and hugs you tighter. Alastor’s eye twitch “Where has Alastor been keeping you cooped up?” Rosie pats the top of your feathers, stroking them gently. With each pat you snuggle deeper into her hold. “You hear that Alastor? She missed me!” TLDR: Why is Alastor competing with his wife for his best friend’s affection? Actually, why is he competing with his wife. What’s even weirder is that…it seems Alastor will also have to compete with his best friend for his wife’s affection. + a fluffy lazy morning because I say so.

Didn't mean to make a part 2 for The Wrong Competitor, but here it is anyway. Is the reader from PID...AL the same one from here? Answer: Don't think too deep about it.

If you guys want more from this competitor series you can try and suggest some parings cause I’m running out of ideas

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor wakes up to a warm bed instead of a cold one.

Pillows scatter around, currently used next to him or discarded on the floor for space, instead of neatly tucked at the head of the bed. There’s breathy snoring taking up the air instead of the sound of his radio. It’s funny how soft snoring can fill the emptiness inside him more than the booming sound of morning broadcasts.

Actually, it’s the fact that Alastor’s even waking up at all. To wake up means to have been sleeping. He tries to blink awake, eyes heavy and drooping, as he stretches his limbs out. It doesn’t work. It seems that today will be a slow morning.

Days like these are rare.

Sand of time slips between his fingers whenever he’s around you. Everything flows so fast when it’s just you and him. Will time slow once more when it’s eventually time to leave?

Your head pops up from the whirlwind of feathers. A hand reaches out to pat the empty space, and a displeasure hum escapes as you chase the lingers of his warmth. Eventually, your hands end up finding one of his pillows, pulling it closer to your chest. Once more, your head retreats back into your bundle with closed eyes.

Alastor pulls the blanket up your shoulders when your snoring begins to shake the walls.

It’s him who’s in control. It’s Alastor who controls his body and his actions, and it’s not the other way around. Hmmm…maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to lose control for one, especially when you’re still searching the space he no longer occupies. Alastor should fall back into bed, trying but failing to blink away the heavy weight of sleep.

Instead, he runs his hands across the sheets, searching until he reaches your hand. The rings around your fingers clinks when he intertwines his fingers with yours.

You settle back into sleep—feathers on your head, four fingers attached to your hand, and currently holding the heart and hand of one of the most vicious Overlord in this realm.

There’s much to do today, but Alastor will hold your hand like this if it means this moment can last.

Eventually, Alastor releases your hand to go to your side of the bed. He smoothens some of the whirlwind of feathers that currently nest you. A hand snakes under your head as Alastor gently peels the blanket away from your shoulders. The hand supports your head as he sits you and hooks an arm underneath your knees.

You’re blinking awake as he carries you in his arms. Instead of complaining, it seems you’re just determined to sleep. So, your eyes close shut as he settles you in his arms.

It would be funny to drop you right now. Actually, it would be downright hilarious. Dropping you would certainly pull him out of this morning slump. Alastor wants to do it…but you’re settled into his arms…

Instead, he lands you gently on the vanity chair. You’re sitting up, trying to blink awake but still not fully out of the forest.

Groggily, Alastor grabs the brush from the table and runs the bristles between your feathers to preen it. Each pass of the brush serves to bring you deeper into a lull.

Your head nods off, even as Alastor preens your feathers. He has to gently pull on the ends to keep you from fully going back to sleep and falling over. A big and hearty yawn escapes you, and the absolute audacity of you to yawn when you should know that when you yawn, Alastor eventually yawns as well.

Alastor stifles a yawn, eyes half drooping as he brushes your feathers. “Now, now,” he says and despite his very best efforts, Alastor yawns. “What ever shall I do with you in this state?”

Your eyes flutter into a close, and Alastor has to tug you awake as you mumble out a small and sleepy. “Marry me?”

“I already did that.” Alastor’s eyes droop even lower, and he has to shake his head to bring himself out of the lull of the early morning.

A hum escapes you and you settle deeper into the chair. “Do it—yawn—again.”

“I also…,” Alastor begins, trying and failing to stifle another yawn, “…already did that as well.”

There’s a hum once more as you lean into the way Alastor brushes your feathers. Some of them puff up and expand as you sink into them like a comfortable bird. It looks quite soft to be buried underneath all those feathers.

It’s Alastor who is in control, not his body… but Alastor can also do whatever the hell he wants, and what he wants is to go back to sleep. And if he’s going back to sleep, well…he might as well take you back.

The brush gets discarded somewhere irrelevant to his mind, and Alastor carries you and him back on the bed. This time, he actually drops you, snickering as you bounce on the cushions. Apparently, you’re too sleepy and dazed to do anything about it.

Alastor crawls back under the blankets, and has enough sense to land his head on your chest. Every breath you take cranks his head up and down.

Finally, he allows his eyes to droop to a close.

You pat his head, half-heartedly trying to push him away. “…heavy… you’re heavy.”

“…rude…,” he mumbles and as punishment, Alastor presses deeper into you.

Quite the dangerous game he’s playing, indeed. Alastor’s gotten comfortable—too comfortable. As you draw circles on his back, Alastor can already predict how the rest of this morning will go. It was that easy to settle back into a routine with you.

He’ll have to re-brush all the feathers, and pick up the ones that scatters on the floor. After that, you’ll force him to brush his teeth and you’ll grab him by the ears if you have to. Once that certain battle is over, it’ll be time for breakfast. Alastor’s finally gotten you used to eating breakfast once more. So, skipping glossing over that habit won’t do.

Part of him wonders who will make sure you eat proper food once he returns to the hotel. And that thought plunges him into an even more dangerous game.

Because his mind wonders if he should get a car, and drive to the hotel everyday. Alastor can even drive you to work and drive you back. If he lives here, it will be like this every morning and every night and every afternoon and everything in-between.

The bed will hold two instead of one. All pillows will be used and scattered around the bed. The blanket will be spread wide instead of curled around a singular body that’s chasing a warmth that isn’t there.

What a cruel, cruel, dream for his mind to conjure up. Alastor really must be still asleep to be able to entertain such dreams.

You’re swatting his face, pulling him from the deep forest of sleep. “Al, get up,” you mumble, pulling his head closer to your body. The points of his antlers press into you. “We can’t stay here forever.”

Alastor wants to ask why not, instead he curls his hands around your shirt. “…okay…let’s wake up.”

“Come on, get off me.” Your arms lock themselves around his neck, smothering him as you curl closer “Alastor…we have to leave soon.”

The irony doesn’t escape him.

Eventually, the time comes where the day must begin. Sleep loses its hold on your bodies, and the lazy morning just turns into a morning. Despite that, Alastor still carries you to the vanity and brushes your feathers again.

Strands of feathers pass through his fingers. “They’re starting to look quite healthy again.”

“That’s because they’re being regularly preened,” you say, smiling at him from the reflection of the mirror. “It’s hard to reach the back on my own.”

Alastor hums, maybe he really should buy that car. “It’s getting longer.”

“It’s always been this long,” you tell him as feathers flutter when Alastor brushes over a particular sensitive spot. It has you sinking back into the puff. “I just tie them together to keep them from fluttering around everywhere.”

Alastor picks out a feather that sticks out of your scalp and plays with it a little. They tickle. “Does it need to be tied up today?”

There’s a small and shy smile on your face. “I’m not going to work today….So, no.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

There are flowers in your hand.

Alastor watches you tend to them with gentle touches, his hand pressed on the small of your back as you both walk down the street. There’s a small smile on your lips as you observe the flowers, giving it an occasional sniff here and there.

Feathers flutter behind him as he walks with you. Alastor summons a voodoo-doll to trail behind and pick up and discard any feathers that fall off. He knows how cautious you get about the feathers.

You bring the bouquet to his face. “Do you like them?”

“Are they for me to like?” Alastor takes a sniff. These are real flowers with proper stems and petals, and not something easily acquired in Hell.

“Not particularly.”

Alastor presses on the small of your back, bringing you closer to him to avoid the puddle of blood. “They’re lovely—but why do you have flowers?”

“They’re for Miss Rosie!” you say, sighing. “Do you think she’ll like it? I hope she will.”

Alastor tilts his head. Miss? “I’m sure she would love them,” he says, and steps over a piss puddle when you tug on the sleeves of his coat. “How come I never received such gifts from you.”

A flash of a frown. It’s replaced by a proud huff. “I’ll give you flowers when you give flowers.”

“The ones from last week are currently sitting in our vase,” Alastor says, and he can’t help how his ears press flat with annoyance. “They’re quite healthy, if I might add, considering I just watered them this morning.”

You press a quick kiss on his cheek that has his ears straightening. “Well, I haven’t gotten any flowers from you this week.”

“There’s no use trying to win Miss Rosie’s favor when I’m right here, dearest!” Alastor says, rolling his eyes into a squint. “Her and I are the oldest and closest of pals, and it’s only natural that she would favor me more—flowers or no flowers. It’s cute of you to try, though.”

You scowl at him, giving a small huff as you bring the flowers closer. “Do you seriously think that?”

“I cannot wait to see the absolute devastation on your face when your efforts fail in vain.” Alastor boops your nose, and presses a kiss on the edge of your lips. “It’s just the thing to make my day. How absolutely thoughtful of you to do this for me, my love.”

“You’re quite welcome,” you say, snickering as you give him a little showman bow. “Thank you, by the way…for such romantic words. Any wife would definitely swoon when hearing such a thing.”

Alastor laughs and pulls you closer to him.

Piss and blood puddles disappear as you both enter the borders of Cannibal Town. There’s still quite some mess as Sinners chomp down on their friends or family…sometimes both friends and family, actually. Intestines and guts are hurled and shared between the far and wide.

You catch your reflection on a window shop, stopping to fix your appearance. A hand goes through your feathers to smoothen the ones that stick out. It’s vibrant once more, considering someone is there to make sure they’re preened. (Maybe Alastor really should buy that car.)

“How do I look?”

Alastor tucks some feathers behind your ears, and curls them around his finger. Each word he speaks brushes your feathers with his lips. “Absolutely beautiful.”

The doors to Rosie’s Emporium open with the sound of a bell. It’s quite empty today. Not many Sinners stalk the halls of her shop. Rosie’s head snaps when she hears the bell, smile widening when she spots you with Alastor.

You take a step forward and present the flowers to her with a small bow. “For you, Miss Rosie,” you say. “How I have absolutely missed you!”

Rosie snatches you into a hug, pulling you flush against her into the tightest of hugs. There’s a sly smile on Rosie as she turns her eyes towards him, and hugs you tighter.

Alastor’s eye twitch

 “Where has Alastor been keeping you cooped up?” Rosie pats the top of your feathers, stroking them gently. With each pat you snuggle deeper into her hold. “You hear that Alastor? She missed me!”

“Of course I have!” you tell her with a wide smile. “There’s not a single person in this city who can match your class.”

Alastor trails his claws across his microphone. “What do I have, then?”

Rosie still hasn’t pulled away from the hug, and it seems you’re not going to be the one who steps away first. “Are you sure you’re not looking for a wife?” you ask, not bothering to answer Alastor. “Such a woman like you shouldn’t be alone.”

Rosie laughs, finally breaking the hug to pat your shoulders. “Know a gal?”

“I think I might just do,” you say and bark out a laugh.

More laughter erupts and Rosie snakes her arm around yours, pulling you deeper into the emporium. Alastor follows along, feeling like a third-wheel. Three sets of cups and a whole tower of snacks are arranged on the table. Rosie pulls a seat out for you, and you take it with a bright smile.

Hmmm…Alastor’s chair is scooted quite far away from yours.

Rosie pours you some tea, chatting about everything and anything. You listen intently, laughing occasionally at whatever Rosie mentions.

Alastor takes the tong, placing some lemon looking brownie into a plate, and slides them towards you.The yellower the treat, the better.

You flash him a smile when you notice the small plate.

Alastor turns to Rosie with his own sly smile.

As you take a bite of your brownie, your hand wraps itself under the base of his chair. Alastor gives you a questioning look, but you’re staring straight into Rosie’s hollowed eyes with fluttering eyes  “….I told him that there’s no way he can take his brother out through this door.”

Rosie laughs, loud and hearty as she slaps the table. “And let me guess—“

“He jumped through the window!” The both of you exclaim, crying out tears of laughter.

“Now that’s quite the dedication,” you say. The legs of his chair scrap the floor when you pull him closer. Alastor sits up straight, blinking as he’s forced closer by the strength of your pull. “The nurses had to wheel the both of them up, and we gave them a room with no windows this time.”

Still, you’re pulling on his chair. The effort of bringing your chair closer doesn’t hinder your speech or the enjoyment of your tea and brownie.

Rosie grabs a second metallic dispenser and pours what appears to be coffee into a teacup and slides the thing in Alastor’s new spot. “One of my clients got caught with his boyfriend’s sister,” she says, and has to reach further into the table to set the coffee cup in front of him. “He’s totally fine with it, apparently. Just wishes he’d stop smooching his sister.”

“What does the sister think?” You reach for some cold cuts and place it on a plate. That too gets presented to him.

“She didn’t know that him and her brother were a thing,” she says. “And she did quite the number on the boyfriend when she found out he cheated on her brother. She wasn’t too happy about it. Quite the sibling bond.”

Alastor’s smile turns a fraction softer as he enjoys his coffee.

Gossip continues to spread and be passed around. Usually, Alastor will have his own scandalous stories, but his mind plagues him. It forces him to continually re-play the events that transpired a few seconds ago.

Alastor wasn’t going to make a fuss about his chair being too far away, and he was content on drinking tea even if his preferred beverage happens to be coffee.

And…fuck.

Now, his mind drifts back to the car as he takes another sip of coffee. Alastor can pay for the whole thing right away. There would be no need for any down payments or loans, not when he can secure suitcases of cash with a snap of his fingers.

The drive from you to the Hazbin Hotel shouldn’t take too long. Traffic shouldn’t be too bad. And he can make it to you in time for dinner if he breaks each and every speed limit. And there’s also the idea of picking you up from work. And Alastor can always wait in the car if your shifts lasted too long. And mornings would last longer if he drove you to work as well….And…

And…

And Alastor decides that your chair is still too far off.

Tendrils wrap around the legs of your chair, a secure grip around the wood.

“She’s just been writing people up for pettiest reasons,” you say, picking up your plate and teacup. “Just the other day, I heard that Maggie got scolded for having a blue pen in her pocket because we’re only supposed to use black ink. Maggie wasn’t even using the blue pen.”

Alastor used the tendril to pull your chair, stopping when only inches of space separate him from you. The plate and teacup are gently placed down on the table, and it finally makes sense why you picked them up in the first place.

Rosie refills his coffee. “Ayeesh, that would be annoying.”

You reach under the table, searching until Alastor catches your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. The pads of your thumb go up and down the cool metal of his ring.

There’s a smudge of frosting on your lips that you don’t seem to notice.

Despite being closer, Rosie reaches across the table with a dashing smile as she slowly wipes the smudge off your lips.

Two sets of eyes turn to him with smug smiles.

Alastor takes one long sip of his coffee, and squeezes your hand.

You squeeze back, even as you bat your eyelashes at Rosie and thank her.

Alastor has to take another long sip of his coffee. What is he doing? Well, actually, he does know what he’s doing: He’s watching his best friend and his wife turn into putty at the sight of one another, and a low and defeated sigh escapes him.

(Should he just buy the fucking car?)

Alastor isn’t keen on losing. His best friend and his wife seem to enjoy each other’s affection even with him in the room. Now, whose attention should he focus on? Well…it’s obviously going to be his wife’s affection that he shouldn’t lose out on because there’s no way Alastor would lose you, even if that person happens to be one of his dearest friends.

As soon as your plate empties, Alastor snatches it faster than Rosie can. It was a close competition though, her fingers were right above your plate.

Alastor piles on more sugary treats on your plate before passing them back to you.

Rosie settles back into her chair, leaning on her palm. “Enough about other people,” she says. “How are you guys doing?”

Alastor’s smile widens as he puffs his chest. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Well,you know how it is,” you say instead. “Hard—especially being married to this one.”

Rosie gives you a look as the both of you seem to share a knowing glance that Alastor doesn’t understand. “Men.”

“Hard?” Alastor parrots, huffing a little with offense. “Our marriage isn’t hard wo—Excuse me I just need to attend to a little business.”

The table jerks from the way Alastor stood abruptly. Plates and glasses shake, and Rosie clutches the sides to steady the table. Eyes turn towards Alastor, but he’s already strutting out the door…

Except…uh…

Well, Alastor skids to a stop, turns right back to place a kiss on your forehead, and gives Rosie a pat on the shoulder and a smile before finally exiting the room.

You and Rosie bark out loud laughter, clutching your stomachs as you calm down.

Rosie wipes a tear from her hollowed eyes, and re-fills the teacups. “He’s been missing for several years,” she says. “I was beginning to think he bit the dust when news spread that he was back.”

There’s a sad smile on your face. “I understand the feeling,” you say. “But what’s seven years compared to the decades we’ve spent together and the decades we will spend together? That’s what I kept telling myself.”

“You’re happy he’s back?”

Thay sad smile morphs into a shu but definitely a happy one as you bring your fingers together. “It’s just nice to be able to be next to him once more.”

Rosie smiles at you. “Well, you certainly look happy.”

“I am…Oh…Oh!.” You stand up from the table as well, and Rosie has to clutch the sides. “I just…Give me…Um…Excuse me!”

Rosie shakes her head as you bolt out the door, waving you off as she takes another bite of her cupcake.

Two empty chairs, pressed against each other, stand before her. Has she just been abandoned?

Rosie is staring out the window when she spots you and Alastor.

With eager eyes, Rosie watches as the both of you walk up to each other, wide smiles painted on your lips. Laughter bounces around the room when she spots what’s hidden behind your backs. Well, that certainly explains why the both of you rushed out the room.

There are words Alastor says to you as he hides a bouquet of flowers behind his back. The window muffles his words. Alastor brings out the bouquet, presenting it to you with a boyish smile.

Even through the window, Rosie can clearly see your laughter as you bring out your own bouquet of flowers from behind your back. There’s a smile on your face when you present the flowers to Alastor.

Alastor runs a hand through his hair as he laughs.

You’re staring at everything and anything but Alastor with that same shy but happy smile.

Alastor tilts your chin with the tips of his fingers to force you to look at him as you exchange the flowers you bought for each other.

Two pairs of eyes notice Rosie staring out the window and she raises her teacup for a toast. She leans on her palms as she watches you and Alastor walk away, hand in hand with flowers around your arms.

Guess she’s the loser in today’s game.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

So, who is the winner of today’s game? Reader, always. Especially when she’s got two of Hell’s Overlords competing for her affection. Also, a big fan of buying men flowers. They too deserve flowers and gifts and soft soft love. Basically how the scene went: Reader: *pulls Alastor’s chair closer*  Alastor:  *ready to get down on his knees for the light of his life and air of his lungs like the fucking loser he is and ask her to marry him once again* Should I buy a car?

[abbys-wifey]

my friends sister

pairing: jenna ortega x female reader

warnings: none just fluff

a/n im so gay guys. holy fuck. and jenna is just soooo hot.

I’m not sure when I figured out Jenna wasn’t just my best friends sister. When she became more.

Aliyah didn’t know. I couldn’t do that to her. What kind of friend would I be if I told her I was inexplicably and irrevocably in love with her older sister?

So it has to end, I have to turn her back into just my best friend sisters. Yet, Jenna’s face continues to plague my mind like a bad dream. One that had zero sign of ending.

Running my hands down my face, skin stretching at the pressure I groan and launch myself face first atop my bed.

Why had I promised Aliyah I would stay at hers tonight? Jenna was of course going to be there. I mean she lives there. Fuck.

My phone buzzes under my stomach forcing me to turn over and squint at the messages on my lock screen.

Aliyah of course. Her texts continue to come in as she begs me to come over now with the simple excuse of ‘I’m bored’.

Rolling my eyes doesn’t stop the messages which leaves me with no choice as I respond with an all capitals FINE.

I arrive at Aliyahs house in a little less than ten minutes, texting her a quick ‘I’m here’ before walking towards the front door and knocking.

The door swings open before I can place my hand at my side revealing the one person I did not want to see today.

“Hey,” Jenna smiles as me, her pearl white teeth causing my cheeks to turn red. “Hi.” I remain outside, frozen, as she chuckles. “You can come inside you know .” She shakes her head and opens the door wider allowing me to walk in.

“Right, thanks.” I nod heading into the house I had been in a million times before. “I like your shoes.” Jenna’s voice is soft, glancing at the converse I had on my feet. I frown for a split second, I had worn these shoes to this house for the past four months. “Thanks, I like your… face.” I blurt out, internally slapping myself in the face. But before Jenna can reply Aliyah comes bounding down the stairs and tackles me in a hug basically saving me from extreme embarrassment.

“Dude, I have to show you this crazy ass movie, it’s gonna scare the shit out of you.” Aliyah tugs on my arm pulling me away from Jenna and up the stairs. I glance over my shoulder for a second, instantly blushing as Jenna’s eyes catch my own and her lips turn up in a small smile.

“Ok what movie?” I ask planting myself on Aliyahs bed as she moves her laptop from her desk to beside me. “Well it’s kinda basic but I wanted to watch it. Scream.” She laughs as I raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t Jenna in it?”

“Well yeah but only the fifth and sixth one so we don’t have to see her. Thank god!” She shrugs leaning back against the bed. “Oh yeah…Right, thank god.” I reply following her movements.

Hours pass, the light slowly dimming as we watch Scream 1 to 3 before I hear slight snoring from beside me. “Aliyah.” I whisper turning to see her passed out silhouette. I laugh silently before turning off the laptop and moving it to safety.

“I’ll be back, I’m going to the toilet.” I whisper to no one in particular seeing as Aliyah is sleeping. Creeping out into the dark hallway, I move towards the bathroom before letting out a shriek as a hand grips my shoulder.

Turning on the spot I shove the person into a wall, holding their shoulders tightly. “Hello to you too?” Jenna’s voice makes me cringe as I recognise her, a subtle frown on her face. “You shouldn’t scare people after they have just watched a horror movie.” I breathe placing a hand on my heart after I remove my hands from her shoulders.

Jenna chuckles moving closer to me. “My apologies.” She whispers ghosting her hand over my own. My breathing begins to speed up at the close proximity of our faces in the darkness.

Silence fills the air, the tension so thick I could almost see it. “So, you like my face?” Jenna smirks, her teeth almost glowing in the moonlight. “Oh, uh. That didn’t mean to sound as stalkerish as it did.” I sigh glancing at the floor only for Jenna’s finger to tilt my chin back up to look at her.

“Well for your information I like your face too.” She whispers glancing down at my lips as she does. Her breath tickles my mouth as she leans in closer, our lips basically touching. “Tell me if you don’t want this.” She whispers seriously. “I want this. I want this.” I reply before surging forward and connecting our lips.

Jenna moans against my mouth, her hand rushing to the back of my neck to pull me deeper into the kiss as my hand presses her waist flush against mine. “My room?” Jenna pants pulling away slightly. I bite my lip unsurely as I glance back to Aliyahs room.

“Your sister…” I trail off, Jenna’s hand moves to my cheek, thumb stroking my cheekbone gently. “My sister won’t know, it’s just for a few hours and she’s asleep right?” Jenna smiles.

“Oh, just a few hours?” I frown and Jenna stammers slightly, confidence faltering. “No I just meant like you would only be in my room for a few hours, this,” She gestures to the two of us. “Isn’t just a few hours.” I nod slowly before pressing my lips against hers softly. “Ok.”

Her hand intertwines with mine as she takes me towards her room. Jenna’s quick to close the door as we enter before pressing me down against the bed and crawling on top of me. “Kiss me.” She whispers and I nod not needing any further instructions as I pull her head down to my own connecting our lips.

Waking up the next morning, I groan as the light floods into Jenna’s bedroom. I mumble to myself before turning to the body wrapped around my own. Jenna. Shit. Realisation rushes through me. I never went back to Aliyahs room last night. “Jenna, Jenna wake up.” I gently shake the girl who groans and buries her face into my chest even further. I pause admiring her for a second before a cough from the door way attracts my attention.

“I fucking knew it.” Aliyah stands at the door with her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised, staring at the two of us. My eyes widen as I scramble out of bed effectively waking Jenna up who curses as she catches her sister at the door.

“I knew you two had a thing. Ooh this is so cute.” Aliyah squeals. I pause in my haste to come up with an excuse. “You what- so you aren’t like fuming?” I scoff wrapping my arms around my knees as I bring them to my chest. “Im a little pissed that you didn’t tell me that MY SISTER is the one you are in love with. And Im pissed that Jenna didn’t tell me that my best friend is the person she’s crushing on. But whatever. I think you guys are cute. But if you break her heart Jenna I’ll slaughter you.” Aliyah grins before clapping her hands together and leaving.

“That went better than expected.” I breathe, the anxiety crushing my chest finally disappearing. Jenna simply nods with a smile before moving over to me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

“So your in love with me hmm?”

[skele-ghost]

Baby, it’s Hot Outside: Part 3

Ruh-roh Raggy

MDNI, 18+, Warnings: Omegaverse, near-death experience (NDE), hospitals, hugs lol

Masterlist

“Ghost!”

The desperation in Johnny’s voice has Ghost scrambling out of their cabin, gun unholstered and ready for anything. He steps out onto their rickety porch and sees Soap standing on Seraph’s porch, frantically waving him over.

“Ghost, hurry!” He shouts, and Simon doesn’t hesitate. He crosses the clearing quickly and nearly slams open the door to the cabin.

The smell that hits him almost causes him to stumble back. It’s sour, almost rotten, and everything inside him screams that something is terribly wrong.

It’s Seraph. She’s limp in Soap’s arms, completely unconscious, and for a moment Ghost thinks she’s dead. Her chest rises and falls in short, shallow breaths.

“She’s hardly breathing,” Soap says, tears brimming in his eyes. “Just—just hold her, I don’t know if your scent will do anything but—“

Ghost strides over and falls to his knees, quickly taking her limp form from him and cradling her into his lap, tucking her head against his neck. He checks her pulse and it’s weak, too weak.

“Gaz is calling for a medevac,” Soap says, rising to his feet, “I’ll go get the captain and König—just please…”

“Go, Johnny,” Ghost commands, “I’ve got her.”

Soap runs off, leaving Ghost with a nearly-dead omega in his arms. He pulls off his baklava, exposing his scent gland and keeping it as close to her nose as he can.

His chest tightens, her sour scent making his stomach toss. If he’d known she was this bad—

But he did know she was bad. Soap had returned to him day after day smelling of her, worse each time.

It was only a few hours ago that he had gathered everyone together and told them that they would need to call a medevac tomorrow if she didn’t get any better.

How had she deteriorated so fast? Three days was all it took for their happy little hacker to turn into this husk?

Ghost growls, holding her tighter against him. “No,” he says to her, “we’re not going to lose you, (Y/N).”

—

It’s like waking up from a nightmare. You feel content, and comfortable, and as recent memories flit back to you, they almost seem like conjurations of a fever dream.

But you open your eyes and you’re in a private hospital room, an IV hooked up to your wrist. You’re tucked neatly into the hospital bed, in a hospital gown.

A snore catches your attention. Soap MacTavish is asleep on a tiny couch next to your bed, in casual clothes with a blanket draped across him. The position he’s in looks so incredibly uncomfortable that you decide it’s best to wake him.

“Soap?” You’re a little taken aback at how soft your voice is. How could you have lost your voice? You have to call his name a few more times before he wakes up.

“Oh, thank god,” he sighs, any semblance of sleep lost as he stands up and engulfs you in a hug. You swear you can see the sparkle of a tear in his eye as he pulls away, but you don’t get a good look before he turns and pulls up a chair.

“Uh, hey,” you manage, surprised at his actions.

He sighs deeply, leaning forwards in his chair, squeezing your hand briefly. “We thought we’d lost ya.”

“Sorry,” you say automatically, before you shake your head. “What happened? Where are we?”

“Mexico City. We had to have you medevac’d…it got pretty bad, hen,” he says, sounding sad.

“I really did go into a heat, then?”

“Yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “The doctor said it’s rare, to present so late, but it’s not impossible. So…welcome to the omega club, I guess.”

You chuckle, “thanks, MacTavish. What about the others, are they okay?”

“The others are fine, bonnie,” Soap says, shaking his head with a smirk. “You’re the one who went hyperthermic and nearly had your brain fried.”

“Shit,” you grimace. “That bad, huh?”

There’s a quiet knock on the door before it opens, revealing a woman in a lab coat. She smiles warmly at the sight of you both.

“I thought it heard conversation. How are you feeling, Miss (Y/N)?”

“Um, fine, thank you,” you say.

Soap rises from his seat, giving your hand another squeeze. “I’ll let you talk to the doctor, love. Team’ll want to know how you’re doing.”

With that, he leaves you at the mercy of the doctor. Not that she’s a bad doctor; she’s very sweet.

She gently explains to you how, in very rare cases, omegas can present later in life. Heats in those cases, however, can be quite severe if not taken care of. That’s what happened to you.

Unfortunately, those ‘late bloomers’ also have trickier heats, sometimes lasting longer or becoming more intense.

As for your heritage…you aren’t adopted. Your genes just decided to mutate and make you an omega instead of a beta.

And that leaves you, an unclaimed omega at 26, with absolutely no clue as to how to proceed. You call your parents and then Laswell, and by the time you’re discharged you’ve decided.

You’re pulling up Soap’s number in your phone, walking down to the main lobby when you literally run into him.

He squeezes you into a hug again, and your eyes widen at the sight of your entire fucking team behind him.

“You look right as rain, angel,” Soap says, patting your shoulders.

“You guys didn’t have to…all show up,” you say quietly. Your mind races with questions—had they stayed here? Gotten hotels? You’d been out for two days, they better have gotten a hotel—

“We’re so glad you’re alright, Seraph,” the captain steps forwards, giving you a gentle, warm hug. He’s the one that smells like cigars, duh.

“Oh, thanks,” you say, still bewildered at all this attention.

You catch König’s eye next, and the expression of concern and worry on his face almost makes you melt. He bends down to hug you, too (are you a flashing ‘hug me’ sign?), squeezing you a little too tight. His scent is new—like conifers and a crisp, autumn morning.

“Are you alright, meine liebe?” He asks, looking you over at arm’s length like you might be sporting some secret injuries.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Kö,” you promise him, smiling at his gentleness and concern.

Gaz doesn’t miss out on the chance for a hug, either. “You really had us worried there, mate,” he whispers to you.

You look to Ghost, but not expectantly. He’s not huge on physical affection, you know.

“Don’t do that again,” he says, and you can tell that he’s being playful and not serious.

You smile and nod, “not planning on it.”

They really do look happy to see you again, which is why breaking the news to them makes you more nervous than usual.

“Uh, listen, guys,” you say, readjusting the straps of the backpack on your shoulders. “I talked to Laswell and I’m going to take a couple weeks off. I just—the doctor said I should take it easy, and my parents want to see me, since I almost died…” you trail off.

“(Y/N),” Price says, and you look up at him, “we completely understand. If you need some time to yourself, then by all means, take it.”

The generosity and kindness in his voice makes you feel guilty, but you nod and thank him. And on your flight back home, while you should be thinking about yourself, you can’t help but think about the team you’re leaving behind.

Because how are you supposed to tell them that you’re not planning on coming back?

—

You didn’t realize how homesick you were until you got home. Go figure. And even though you’re a grown adult, it’s nice to be doted on by your parents again.

But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. They were worried about you, and they had been worried about you before you were an omega.

You’re still undecided. That’s what you told Laswell—that you’d think about it. Your parents want you to take a desk job at the Pentagon, the one you’d had before you joined the team. Remote, no field work.

The fact that three of your teammates were alphas had always concerned them. Now that you’re an omega, they think you shouldn’t be anywhere near alphas.

You explain it to them over and over—the team is already a pack, they have an omega, and they sure as hell aren’t interested in you. It still stung a little in your heart to say it, and after the hospital, a part of you wondered if it was still true.

But the part of yourself that knows better, the part of yourself that keeps you from disappointing yourself—it won’t let you even dream of it.

You didn’t really care to understand what the doctors said—you still don’t really know what it means to be an unclaimed omega. Claiming, scenting; she threw all those terms at you and expected you to know what she was talking about.

Well, you didn’t, and you still don’t. You just want to be normal again. You want to return to your old, comfortable life like nothing had ever happened.

But you don’t know if you should, and you didn’t even know if you’d be able.

Someone else has to decide for you.

You’re at a local bar with your parents, enjoying some live music. Your cousins all have a band together and it’s good enough that you wish the music they make was on Spotify.

Your phone buzzes a few times in your pocket before you notice it over the feel of the music running through you.

Unknown Caller.

You answer it immediately, rushing outside so you can actually hear her.

“(Y/N), are you there?” Laswell asks calmly, and you nod before you remember that you’re on a phone.

“Yeah, I’m here—sorry, live music,” you stutter.

“Well, I’m sorry to pull you away from leave; I know you asked not to be contacted, but I need you.”

“Ma’am?”

“I have a problem, and I think you’re the only one who knows how to fix it. Have you decided yet?”

That dreaded question. You’d snapped at your mother the other day for asking it and felt so bad afterwards. Three weeks was long enough to decide, wasn’t it?

Because if you’re being honest with yourself, you knew the answer from day one. You knew the answer when you felt that pit in your gut as your plane taxied out of Mexico City. You knew the answer when you layed awake at night, staring at the ceiling and wondering what your team was doing, and if they were okay, if they were hurt.

You knew the answer. It wasn’t the safe option, or the convenient one—and you were at least 60% sure it was probably going to be a challenge.

But you knew.

“When and where?”

-

A/N: ngl Ghost’s ‘not gonna lose you’ line is so cheesy but I kind of like it that way. Next part will take longer to come out, I’m still working on it. Stay cringe, folks.

[whalesforhands]

kaizen daycare! 3

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“Are ya gonna follow us home t’day?” Megumi rubs at his little eyes as his puppy-themed socks come to a stop before you, trying to stifle an incoming yawn. He sounds hopeful, dare you even say, excited.

“Daddy said you were gonna eat at our house too.” He’s suddenly holding his arms up towards you, asking to be carried as he awaits with still half-opened eyes.

“Oh? Megumi-kun, are you excited about moving in?” You’re bending down, your hands picking him up and supporting his weight, letting the child’s head loll and rest against your chest. His cheek squishes against you, a sleepy comfort overtaking him once more now that he’s in your arms.

“Mn.” You feel him press his ear against your heartbeat, smiling at the steady, slow vibration, his innocent eyes already starting to close once more as he cuddles himself against you, getting comfortable in your embrace. “I just wanna see you there…” His words trail off with his sleepy haze, going limp in your hug as he finally falls back asleep.

You feel a blush overtake you at his words, the gentle chime of a nursery lullaby flowing into your ears, accompanied by the adorable snores of your other children as you sat upon a nearby cushion with a sleeping Megumi in your arms. So cute.

Maybe it was a good idea to accept their family’s invite afterall?

——

Sometimes, you’re utterly at a loss for words at a certain trio within your class. Even as Mimiko sips on a cup of milk whilst sitting on your lap, Nanako humming, sprawled out on the floor next to you and drawing with her plethora of crayons and Megumi playing with the toy trucks by his sisters.

(“Hmm…” Mimiko leans back, staring up at you, hands fiddling with her now empty milk carton. She’s always been one to speak her mind.“(name)-sensei…”

“Mm?” You look down at her, snapping out of your dazed out trance, your fingers that were mindlessly combing through her hair stopping abruptly.

She doesn’t respond, her eyes scrutinizing you as you give her the moment to collect her words. Is something wrong? Did her milk taste bad? You had the same one, you don’t think—

“You’re so pretty.” Just as pretty as her Papa and Daddy. Maybe even more? She’d have to ask her plushies one by one later on who they think is the winner. She’s betting on you.)

“Nanako-chan, do you need me to call him? It isn’t like your Papa to be late…”

“Nope!” She pops the ‘p’ as she skips over to her cubby. “It’s realllll good that we’re the last ones left, and so earlyish! Pap— We thought we were gonna have to wait longer!!” She digs around the frog themed backpack, her tongue stuck out in concentration before she pulls out her phone.

Her very expensive, high-tech, latest in the market phone that was leagues better than yours and probably costed around an entire month of your salary. “Papa said to just text him if he’s late, and Daddy’ll come zooming the fastest around!”

That was approximately 4 minutes ago.

“(name)-sensei, (name)-sensei! I drew this for you!” A sheet of A3 paper is thrusted into your face, a burst of colour that dyed your eyes in fascinating intrigue as they slowly focus in on the drawing.

Matching blonde and brunette bobs, right next to a darker ponytailed brunette and spiky black. Shiny, smiley faces that were drawn on with an attempt to scribble the characters of their names just above them.

Though, that wasn’t the main focus. You notice 3 more figures upon the paper, characterized by neon-blue crayon for eyes, another having long shadowy black for hair… And the unmistakable pink of your apron you wore for work.

(You can’t even deny that it’s you. You saw her peeking over and trying to see and copy down your name embroidered onto the top of your apron.)

“That’s a wonderful drawing, Nanako-chan! What made you want to add me in?” Megumi and Mimiko have now gathered near you, squeezing in under your arms to stare at their sibling’s art work.

“That’s cause we love (name)-sensei a wholeeeeeee lot!” She draws a circle in the air with her arms, the widest circumference she can go. “Wayyyyy more than this!”

We…? Why, you feel flattered— A knock at the door sounds, a boisterous voice disrupting your train of thought.

“Daddy’s here!”

——

“But Nanako wants to sit on (name)-sensei’s lap!” A pouty complaint as she tugs on her dad’s jacket, narrowed brown squinting up at him as she hugs her frog plushie backpack close to her.

“Nope!” The grown man makes an X cross with his arms. “Papa’s gonna have my head if you’re not in your booster seat.”

“Then you sit in the back and Nanako will drive!” She’s determined to be able to be next to you on this short drive back.

You’re already helping Megumi buckle himself into the booster seat, a sleeping Mimiko all strapped in as her soft breaths are barely heard. You notice the soft, chubby fingers that rests themselves over your hand just as you were about to pull away.

“Hmm? Megumi-kun, what’s wrong?” He says nothing as he stares at your hand, eyes downcast and as if too conflicted to let go. “I dwon’t want you to go…”

You think you’re going to die from cuteness.

“I’ll be with you real soon, okay?” You ruffle his hair, watching as he grunts lightly at the sensation before he lets you go.

It isn’t long before Gojo gets his blonde daughter to behave and obediently settle next to her siblings, hugging her plushie close as she receives a wave from you from outside.

It’s just you and their other father now.

“Gojo-san, thank you for offering me to drive me back.” You’re smiling up at him, oh so innocently. It almost makes him want to—

“Sa. To. Ru.” You feel a tap to your nose at the last syllable. “We’re gonna be neighbours, aren’t we?” He sends you a charming wink. “Plus, I don’t mind driving you back. I’d even it rather be a regular occurrence, if you left it up to me.”

(S-so forward! Isn’t he scared of what his husband will think?! Driving another adult around so casually in his car!)

“That isn’t necessary at all, Gojo—“ You see him pout, his cheeks starting to puff up. “Sa…Toru-san. You really don’t have to.”

“Hmm.” He leans in— Almost intimately close as you back off slightly, your back coming into contact with his car. Vibrant blue stare into your own, as you tilt your head in innocent confusion.

“You know, (name).” His voice trace over your name with such a deep, almost fulfilling tone that makes your heart stir. “I’m been kind of worked up lately.”

An arm that extends past, lightly brushing your hip as he gets the door for you. Except… He doesn’t seem to be opening it anytime soon, choosing to box you in between the car and his body. “You could say that I’m even a little… Excited.”

(“Oh? I suppose it is a little nerve wrecking to have a guest over when you just move in.” You nod, ignoring the warmth that was exceedingly close to your waist, your gaze still holding his own intense orbs. “Even I wouldn’t dare to invite someone over when I’ve barely got everything set up yet, so I get you, Satoru-san.”

He blinks, the tension diffusing in mere seconds before he starts breaking out into a boisterous laugh, tilting his head downwards towards the ground and a hand over his mouth.

“Ahaha! That’s right, sensei!” You’re so cute.)

——

“Hello!” A sparkling set of eyes and rocking feet, hands clenched into excited fists that pump into the air. “Welcome to our new house!” A little girl no older than 3 or 4 appears in front of you, her brown hair fluttering with her bouncy joy that radiates off of her in waves.

“My name is Tsumiki! I like drinking strawberry milk and being praised!” She ends her introduction with an eager V-sign, bright teeth out in a grin and eyes upturned into the cutest little crescents, before she flattens her arms at her sides, bowing to you. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

“My, you’re so polite.” You lean over to pat at her head, your bag long placed on top of the counter at their genkan. “I’m (nam)—“

“(name)-sensei! You live in the apartment right next to us, you work at the kindergarten my brother and sisters go to, you’re super, suuuuper sweet like kikufuku mochi and, and—!” Her eyes are sparkling more intensely, practically reflecting a constellation of her thoughts as she looks up at you. “And you’re even super, super pretty!”

(Even prettier than all the other times she’s seen you.)

You’re honestly at a loss for words right now. How much are you talked about here…?

“Mmm, but I suppose calling you sensei when you aren’t my sensei is a little strange, right, sensei?~” She’s strangely playful, big grin and eyes that gleamed with something you can only describe as a yearning want.

She taps her chin in thought, eyes averting to the side and upwards as if in deep thought. “Ah!” She claps her hands together. “Can I call you Mama?”

(W-whaaaaaat?! So upfront!)

“Please, please?” She’s already wrapped her arms around your legs, her pouty, mischievous eyes pleading up at your blushing form, her head buried into your tummy as she’s on her tiptoes.

You’re blushing hard— Your eyes swirling with bashful shyness that makes you so, so nervous. Sure, she’s adorable— So forward and so cute pleading you like this…! You did always tell yourself that you wanted kids—

“Now, now Tsumiki. You’re teasing our poor guest too much.” A tut and a ruffle of her head from behind as an all too welcomed figure appears.

“Papa!”

“Geto-san…!”

“I’m sorry. She takes after Satoru a little too much in that sense.” She turns his gaze downwards. “Tsumiki, help me set the table, please.”

“Okay!” And she patters off, socked feet against the wooden floors as she skips away. “Talk to you later, Mama!”

(Ohhh… You feel like you’re going to burn up from gratified embarrassment… You like the way it sounds but it’s so embarrassing—! Especially when she’s not your child…!)

“No, no, Geto-san. It was lovely being able to talk with her! You raised all your kids so well!” You’re gushing as you talk to him, a hand pressed over your stuttering heart, letting him lead you around, not even noticing the hand that had intertwined with your own as you lost yourself to your overactive mind.

“I sometimes wish they were my own.” You’re turning sheepish, body turned slightly to face his with the still all too cute, all too adorable smile of yours. He stops in his tracks, fingers closing in on your face to brush a strand of your hair back, the graze of his skin against yours makes you shiver in a sense of delight… It always felt strangely— Good whenever he does this.

(He can make that happen, you know?)

“Trust me, sensei—“ He feigns a tired sigh, pulling away, causing your shoulders to slump in visible disappointment, much to his adoration. “They can be up to no good if they want to be.”

Now that you’re actually in their house, it definitely feels a little high class. Their cushions that looked and felt like they were too out of this world, their curtains looking a little glamorous… Not to mention how amazingly soft the couch you were sitting upon felt…

You were so sure you passed by your own apartment next to theirs not too long ago. Now you’re not even sure if you’re even living in the same realm of possibility…

“Dinner’s about to be finished up. Do you mind waiting a bit?”

“If you don’t mind,” You tilt your head to the side as you watch him. “I could lend a hand.”

——

“Gumi, c’mere.” Tsumiki beckons her younger brother towards her, the little boy waddling over with his towel wrapped around him, dripping with water as he holds onto his sister’s hand.

(It’s normal for them to wash up a little bit before dinner, they’ll take their bath later.)

“Don’t they look like a marriage?” A proper one. Like in those late-night soap operas one of her Mother’s ‘friends’ used to leave on. The way Papa is smiling as you taste test his cooking, the way Daddy tried to eat whatever you touched, the way you all laughed in an emotion that cannot be anything else but utter joy.

“Get— Suguru-san, I think it needs a little salt.”

“Mm, is that so?” He doesn’t even hesitate to place his lips onto the spoon you had just used, tongue peeking out to lick up any leftover remnants that could be there. “It might be the lack of dashi stock. I need to go to the market soon.”

“Oh, there’s one nearby, I could show you—“

“Suguru! No fair! I wanna taste too!”

“Aren’t you meant to be helping the kids dry off, Satoru?”

“Mmm, I will if I get fed!” He opens his mouth towards you, “Pleaseeeeee? I’m getting hungry!”

You’re the one. Tsumiki knows you are. She just does. Her grip on the door frame tightens ever so slightly, a twinkle of longing, of yearn in her gaze.

“Better than Mother ever looked with any of those men…”

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Notes:

It’s very important that you do not leave the nap room for very long during naptime. You went out to do some administrative work and you came back to a crying Mimiko that was biting into her plushie, trying to silence herself so as to not disturb the rest while she huddled into a corner and silently wailed for you.

“(name)-sensei…! D-don’t leave Mimiko again…!” Her tears are soaking into the front of your apron, her small hands gripping onto the fabric of upon your shoulders as she clung onto you. Desperate, scared.

The other children do not like it when you’re not around. Stay in the rooms with them.

“Aww, I thought I heard something from outside. Was it you, Megumi?” Geto Suguru soon scoops up a blank, sleepy little boy dragging a blanket in.

“Oh? What do you have in your hands for me, Gumi? It’s—“ He continues to smile. “Are those my… Contact lenses? Thank you very much…” The transparent item is plopped onto Suguru’s open palm, a silent Megumi burying his face into his father’s chest soon after.

What a peculiar child.

[inlovewithpandora]

- Soothing -

Pairing: Earth!42 Miles x fem!reader

Request: [ @spidersthetic ] When B has a nightmare and doesn’t plan on going back to sleep, A gets up and drags them into the living room. After they disappear into the kitchen, they come back with snacks and play a movie, planning to stay up as long as B needs to help forget. w/ Earth42! Miles Morales || You can choose what nightmare reader has but Earth42! Miles is ready to comfort her and will stay up as long as she needs to and maybe during the movie she laying on his chest and drifts to sleep when Miles hasn't heard her talk in a while, he checks and she's asleep and cute snores are coming out her mouth.

Synopsis: When you experience a nightmare and are afraid to go back to sleep Miles is right by your side, ready to comfort you in any way possible.

Content: Aged!up Miles, established relationship, Hurt w/ comfort, fluff, mentions/implications of nightmares, Miles comforting reader, cuddling, overall a cute little fic

Author’s Note: Thank you for requesting! I loved writing this, I’ve been wanting to make a bad dream type of fic for a while. I hope you enjoy and that it meets your expectations!

Word Count: 491

Glossary: princesa - princess || te amo - I love you

Extra: Requests are closed! || Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated❤️!

Links: Navigation || Astv Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist

Miles was sleeping in the bed next to you when the sound of small whimpers filled the room, which caused him to stir in his sleep. With sleep still prevalent in his body, it didn’t click in his mind that it was you making those noises until he felt you shifting in bed and mumbling incoherent words.

Miles rose from his side of the bed and turned to you. “y/n! y/n, baby, wake up!” Miles gently shook you, enough to wake you up, but not too harsh to startle you.

When you woke up and your eyes fluttered open, Miles could see the fright filled within them, he knew whatever you were dreaming about must have shaken you up. Miles immediately pulled you into his embrace and began to soothe you. “Shhh, it’s okay, princesa. I’m here.” He stroked your face gently and rubbed your back, hoping that this will help lessen your cries.

After a few minutes, you transitioned into a calmer state. “Do you wanna try and go back to sleep or do you wanna stay up for a little bit?” Miles wanted to help you in every way he could, so if that meant staying up a few extra hours or holding you tight in his arms until you drifted off to sleep, he would do it in an instant.

“Stay up.” You didn’t want to go back to sleep after the horrifying dream you just had, so you thought staying up would be able to take some edge off.

“Okay, c’mon.” Miles intertwined his hand with yours and led you in the living room. “You sit right here. I'm gonna go grab some snacks,” he said then walked into the pantry, grabbing a handful of your favorite snacks before plopping back down on the couch next to you.

While you enjoyed the snacks Miles provided, he began to surf through Netflix to find a movie for you both to watch. When he finally picked one, you curled up against him and placed your head on his chest to get into a comfortable position for the duration of the movie.

Thirty minutes into it, Miles seemed to be enjoying it. The humorous scenes made him laugh, the action scenes put him on the edge of his seat, and the drama-filled scenes enticed him. As he got deeper into the movie, he realized that he hasn’t heard your voice in a while.

“Princesa?” Miles leaned up gently, getting a look at your face and saw that your eyes were closed. Soon after, small snores glided through your lips which made him smile knowing that you were now able to sleep peacefully without any fear.

“Te amo,” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on your forehead, hoping that you’ll be able to have a full night's sleep without a nightmare. However, if you wouldn’t, he will be right there next to you, willing to do anything to make you feel better.

I hope you enjoyed❤️!

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Editor - @justmemyselfandthemoon

Taglist: @toneystank-3000 @savagemickey03 @soilmayo @baizzhu @solanawrld @kxllanxtdoor @kxtsxkii @onlyloaksgf @popeheywardssecretgf @naiomiwinchester

©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[roronoaswifey]

𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐇𝐂𝐒, monster trio

summary. inviting the monster trio to your annual family cookout

pairing. monkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, vinsmoke sanji x black!reader

warnings/tags. slight foul language, alcohol consumption, implied weed consumption, wholesome meeting the family content, reader is black but fic can be applied to all races

wc. 2.9k

kazu’s note. tee helped inspire me… even if the idea was all mine xo 💋 @sanjisblackasswife

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

“let’s fucking go!”

→ he’s oddly excited to go, mainly because of all the fun stories you’d told him in the past and food

→ wherever there’s a fun time and food, you know luffy’s down

→ the second you stepped in, you lost your boyfriend. in the overwhelming swarm of greetings and hugs and kisses, luffy was nowhere to be found

→ you were asked by all family members where was this boyfriend of yours and your left brow twitched in suspicion, cause where else would the bastard be at this ripe hour?

→ ding ding ding, the kitchen of course.

→ he leaned over the counter, eyes shimmering in want as he drooled over whatever seemed to be cooking in the crockpot

→ your mother eyed him suspiciously, lost and completely confused as to who this clearly non family member was doing in her kitchen

→ you found him and easily, smacking the back of his head while scolding him on proper etiquette, to which he pouted and argued that,

→ “but i’m hungry!”

→ “dumbass, where are your manners?”

→ your mom didn’t take it to heart, however. she appreciated how he could distinctively spot a good dish from away

→ after poutingly introducing himself, luffy beamed at the premade plate in front of him, thanking your mom endlessly with hugs before diving into his meal

→ though stunned by the way he inhaled his meal down, your mom was also impressed by his go-lucky nature, going as far as ruffling his hair affectionately

→ luffy’s definitely best friends with the younger cousins. he keeps up with their games, laughs along at anything and agrees when they ask him to bring them to a nearby park

→ they ask for story times of adventures when he’s at sea, and listen with heart eyes as he tells them about the amount of sea kings he’s slaughtered and bad men he’s defeated, going as far as re-enacting the situations

→ he’s also at the center of the mosh when adults ask the kids to dance for money. he isn’t even doing it for the money, he’s just so full of energy and everyone loves his vibe so much

→ he definitely makes money off it though

→ dinnertime is horrendous. he’s got a big appetite, and you warned your family beforehand, but naturally they’re still in shock at the way he basically SWALLOWS the table.

→ your mom is a huge fan, prepping beforehand containers of food so he doesn’t go hungry

→ even if he’s basically gobbling down his and other people’s share of food, luffy is known for his outgoing and warm personality, so of course he’s the center of entertainment

→ he’s cracking jokes, singing off key, dancing ridiculously and your family seems to be eating it up. they laugh like he’s the funniest man, sing along as if he was making sense, even hype him up when he dances foolishly

→ at some point in the day he’s so stuffed he ends up knocked out with some random kid in one of the rooms upstairs, snoring with the child snuggling into his torso, damn near rolling over him

→ nighttime falls before luffy wants, and eventually it’s time for y’all to go back, but lemme tell you this man is so bummed out

→ not only does your family bash you for “gatekeeping” him from them for so long, but luffy’s pressed because not everybody seems to have left but now you’re forcing him to go too??

→ “lu, we gotta set sail tonight or else nami’ll have both our heads on a platter!”

→ “i don’t care! i’m captain, and i decide we stay!”

→ you’re so ready to shove your fist down his throat when your mom shows up, containers full of food in her hold as she offers a simple solution that has luffy obeying uncharacteristically easily

→ you rolled your eyes, grabbing the packed food as your mom smothered luffy in kisses, thanking him for having shown up and expects to see him more often

→ she also gives him the sentimental “look after my daughter” speech as if he’s not the one that needs to be looked over

→ luffy replies with his infamous laugh, hugging your mom back as his answer makes your chest bloom with warmth,

→ “of course! y/n’s the love of my life.”

𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

→ “uh…”

→ that’s the face he made the second y’all entered the house, greeted by your skeptical dad who gave him an offish look

→ “so you the thug my baby’s dating?”

→ “dad.” you gave your dad a pointed look, and he rolled his eyes, waving off as he claimed he was joking, but the way zoro was frozen is fear (?) suggested otherwise

→ so, rough start, but zoro decides he’s gonna try his best to make your family approve of him. i guess it helps he brought a bottle of wine (selected by sanji ofc) to woo the fam

→ he follows as you make your way towards the backyard, greeted with love and hollers as everyone chants how it’s been so long since they last saw you

→ you get hugs and kisses from uncles, aunties, grandparents, family friends and cousins, whole time zoro stands behind you like 🧍waiting for you to finish

→ “gonna introduce us to your hunk of a man?” some thirsty auntie practically ogles zoro and he’s frozen to pieces again at the attention on him

→ you roll your eyes and nudge zoro forward to introduce himself, and he inwardly curses you for setting him up like that

→ “roronoa zoro… ma’am.” you nearly decked him up the head for the unneeded formal greeting, but your family laughed it off, amused by his sternness

→ “your name roronoa?”

→ “no sir. i’m japanese.”

→ “well that’s new.” you glared at the same thirsty auntie, hoping she wasn’t somewhat shading you for your taste in men

→ regardless, zoro went through the crowd and attempted to present himself, though it was unnecessarily stiff, you rubbed your hand on his back for his efforts

→ zoro finds it really hard to find peace and quiet at events like these, though he doesn’t hate it but isn’t exactly used to so much familial love in one place especially with the lack of family growing up

→ he does find peace in the normality of everything, no piracy or wild government issues involved

→ your dad manages to find him and challenges him alongside the other uncles to a drinking contest, but because you know you have an advantage, you decide to place bets on winners

→ bets are predictable enough; everyone besides your mom and you bet on the undefeated champion that was your dad. joke’s on them cause naturally zoro won

→ he swipes his hand over his mouth, smirking at your dad across the table as you stand next to him, arms crossed over your chest and smirking tauntingly back you guys looked so badass

→ your dad eyes you both saltily, and zoro fears he fucked up yet again by taking the challenge too seriously, but when your dad breaks out in laughter and gives his hand to shake, a sweat dropped from his hairline in relief

→ you made about 350$

→ your (single) aunties cannot get over how good looking he is. they swarm around him, praising him for his out-of-this-world visuals and smother all over him, pulling at his cheeks and tugging at his biceps

→ and in returns he’s just like “uh, thank you.” while giving you a look to save him, but you’re evil and let him suffer alone

→ now when the kids get ahold of this man, just wish him goodnight at this point cause you’re not seeing this man for the rest of the night

→ they love this man ☠️ is it the fact that he seems so unappeased and stoic, or the fact that he’s a new piece of meat to bother, he really couldn’t tell

→ they tug on his arms, sit on his lap, play with his hair, and ask for stories of what it’s like to be at sea while being such a strong pirate

→ “you got three swords?!” “i do.” “can i use them?! please?!” “i’m pretty sure y/n would kill me.” “no she wouldn’t! she lets me play with swords all the time!” “uh…”

→ when you caught him giving piggyback and airplane rides to your very happy younger sister, you leaned against the doorframe and teased him about how well they got along to which he bluntly denied

→ you saw the fond smile on his face tho

→ still you drag him downstairs to meet up with your older cousins and family friends, slipping on some slides as your dad corners y’all at the entrance

→ “we’re gonna go take a walk.” you smile sheepishly, kissing his cheek and your father gives you a look, seeing easily past your lame excuse but does nothing to stop y’all

→ “we are?” your confused boyfriend mumbled, tugging your sundress and your cousins and friends laughed at his naivety, saying something along the lines that they’d get along just well

→ the walk taught him a few things; weed is definitely not for him nor his throat, you get overly affectionate when you’re high and your one short friend is hilarious when he’s hungry

→ he gets along well with other significant others of family members, all in the same “freshly arrived” boat. he and your sister’s boyfriend actually bonded over the kendo matches airing on the sports channel

→ when night comes, he’s almost drained by how much social interaction he was put through. you wish everybody a goodnight and they threaten you to bring him back to the next function “or else”.

→ you’re at the door with leftovers and drinks, and when you leave the door, zoro realizes he probably should privately share his goodbyes to your dad, and so he goes back when you don’t notice

→ you noticed you were talking to yourself for a while, so you frown and wonder if your man got lost while you were busy ranting about how happy you were

→ you head back to the house, ready to search for a lost moss but you halt your step when you hear familiar voices talking

→ “you take good care of my baby, roronoa. she better be in one piece next time y’all come ‘round. got it?”

→ you roll your eyes at your dad’s usual protectiveness, ready to counter on his behalf but you’re cut to the chase by your boyfriend,

→ “i love her, sir. nothing bad’s ever gonna happen as long as i’m around, i swear.”

𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

→ “sounds like a good idea, my love!”

→ sanji blends in with your family alarmingly well. it’s barely been a few minutes since y’all got in, and he presents himself with bouquets of flowers and wine, and the whole house has fallen head over heels for him

→ sanji used to be a waiter alongside a sous chef, so his conversational skills are flawless. he knows exactly what to say to make your members feel listened, nods when they speak and engage in their stories

→ your mom is in love with this man. when he presented himself, he reached out his hand and when she laid hers in his, he kissed her knuckles all gentlemanly and gave a wink, and she was weak in the knees

→ you had no worries about sanji meeting your family, you knew they’d fall for his charms just as you did

→ unsurprisingly, most of his time is spent in the kitchen with the ladies, even though they tell him he can go relax elsewhere with the men. he presses that he’s fine and he’s willing to help with the preparation, as he is the chef’s cook

→ you find him minutes later wearing an apron cutting up vegetables, laughing brightly at whatever story your mother had to share

→ while he spends his time in there, the tipsy aunties spill and rant all the family’s tea, from unplanned pregnancies to cheating scandals, and sanji’s nosy ass is all in for the business, going as far as asking questions and throwing in his own opinions

→ like imagine “you’re joking! is that not her sister’s ex man?! what a low blow!” “i know right? she’s been shady as fuck.” he gasps dramatically, hand on his hip as he pauses from mincing the garlic

→ dramatic bastard

→ he offers to help set up the table as he’s used to doing it on the ship, and your mom almost feels bad for making her guest help her with everything, but he expertly holds plates in his hands as he winks, “anything for my mother-in-law, mademoiselle.”

→ he’s so used to eating last, making sure everyone’s gotten a good taste before he can sit back, so he’s taken aback when your mom slides him a plate on the counter

→ you’re rolling your eyes playfully as sanji tries to push the plate back respectfully and offers that your mom eats before he does, since she did make everything

→ “give it a rest, she’s as stubborn as you are.” you nudge your shoulder against his, and he straight up pouts, before nodding and thanking her for the meal

→ he was stunned at the outburst of flavours, not having ever tasted anything as unique as soul food in his life. he has literal hearts out of his eyes and his mother mentions warmheartedly how cartoon-like it was little does she know

→ though you underestimated sanji’s stubbornness when you caught him doing the dishes, claiming he was unloading the amount of work your mom would have to do

→ she was baffled by his kindness, wrapping her arms around him and planting a kiss at his temple, chanting how he was her new favorite and you teasingly scoffed at the bashful blush that crept at sanji’s face

→ your younger sister is in love with him. like, actual love. she wants to marry him and keep him in her room for the rest of her life, so she says.

→ when nobody wanted to play dollhouse with her, he felt his chest ache at the way she seemed defeated, instantly reminded by his own childhood, so he offered to play with her and she was immediately crushing

→ “sanji, i love you! be my husband!”

→ he chuckles sheepishly, “but what about your sister, darling? it wouldn’t be room nice if i left her alone.”

→ your sister pouts and has tears swelling in her eyes, and sanji is such a sucker he gets swept in by her manipulative tactics, that he leans forward on a knee and holds her hand reassuringly.

→ “how about you get older first, then we’ll talk, okay? you’re still my favorite after all.” he ruffled her hair and revelled in the way she looked away so shyly, nodding before running away

→ “i’m wounded, sanji.” you flatly spoke, a smirk on your lips as he rose to his feet, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment

→ while you laid in the living room and digested dessert, you suddenly missed the presence of your boyfriend as he was hogged by your mom all day

→ you got up and made your way to the kitchen, to which you saw sanji sat across the counter, notepad and pen in his hands as he scribbled on the paper while your mother rambled

→ “what’s going on here?” you eyed the two suspiciously, who both froze mid-action, before turning to you like a deer caught in headlights

→ they both denied that anything was happening, that they were just catching up on their lives as if that wasn’t what they’d been doing all night. you sighed, letting it slide as you beckoned him over, complaining you missed him

→ eventually the night came to an end, and everyone was bummed that he was leaving. it almost made you feel like they could care less about you ☠️

→ everyone sent sanji kisses and hugs, forcing him to come by and visit, and to bring something he made next time so they can ogle at yet another skill of his. he promised he’d blow their minds away, with a kiss at their knuckles ofc

→ your little sister was so bummed, tearing up at the door as she watched you guys get ready to leave, and sanji desperately didn’t want her to be mad with him, so he told her to turn around, and he unclasped her necklace and slipped one of his rings on her chain, before putting it back on her neck.

→ her eyes mimicked his similar heart eyes expression, dropping her teddy on the floor as sanji kissed her knuckles. you thumped him up the head and told him to hurry up so y’all could leave

→ deep down you were happy that he was getting along with your bitter baby sister you were just tired

→ your mom was the last guest to watch you off, and after hugging you goodbye, she moved onto her new favorite and hugged him too, before pulling away and holding his hands affectionately

→ “i’m so glad y/n found you. keep her happy sanji, you’re a great boy.” she had tears swelling in her eyes, and when sanji tightened the hold on her hands, you watched him with hidden admiration,

→ “i’m the lucky one, mademoiselle. i’ll do my damn hardest to give her the happy life she deserves.”

i gave up halfway leave me alone 💀

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

I suddenly had a thought of GhostSoap being normal human beings and doing normal human being things and wanted to write some stuff for it.

1) Simon always forgets to replace the fuckin toilet paper and Johnny loses his mind over it every single time

2) Johnny has these quiet little snores that whistle out every time he breathes out and while it’s mildly annoying some nights Simon still finds it so endearing

3) Simon hogs the blankets, even in summer cause he’s just always cold, no matter what. Johnny tends to just snuggle in real close to Simon when he gets cold

4) Johnny is the cook of the house. He’s really good at it (his mother refused to let him leave home without knowing how to survive on his own) but he can’t bake. Simon’s the opposite where he can bake (his mum loved baking, taught him everything she knew) but can’t cook to save his life

5) Johnny’s always stealing Simon’s leftovers or hidden treats and Simon has threatened to stab him once or twice over it (it never stops Johnny from doing it again)

6) Simon totally found a stray cat and got the ‘you wanna keep him, you look after him’ talk and he has never been more devoted to looking after another living being after the whole thing with his family

7) Johnny’s got a million and one things in their bathroom all for the sake of looking after his hair and skin and what not and he definitely sits Simon down on the toilet seat every so often so he can do the same for him

8) Johnny seeks validation near constantly. Simon doesn’t know why but he always, always makes sure Johnny knows he’s appreciated and doing good and whatever else the man needs validation on

9) When Simon has night terrors the way to calm him down is to just let him cling to you. Don’t speak or anything just let him hold you and let him reassure himself that your alive and well. Sometimes he’ll be ready to talk about it in the morning, other times he’s content to let the memories go and just keep going

10) Johnny is the worst at taking out the trash. Since they live in a semi-old apartment complex they had to take their rubbish all the way downstairs when the bin in their place got full and Johnny fucking hates it

11) When one of them get put on leave and have to go back to the apartment by themselves they’ll play the other persons music and cook their favourite foods (or try at least) to try and fool themselves into thinking they’re not alone in their home

12) Simon totally has a stuffed toy that belonged to Joseph and while it sits on his shelf he was still terrified Johnny was going to say something bad about it or try and get rid of it (that’s happened once with an ex) but Johnny saw it, called it cute and then proceeded to look after it when Simon couldn’t

13) Johnny may not look it but he’s a bit of gardener. He’s got a windowsill full of herbs in the kitchen and their balcony has some random plants that he doesn’t actually know the name or origin of but he looks after them and has very specific instructions for Ghost to follow when he’s not around

14) Simon’s friends with the old guy that runs the convenience store down the street from their apartment and not because he tried to befriend the guy or anything, but because the guy thought Simon looked funny with his mask and decided he was going to favour him out of all of his customers

15) The neighbours tried hitting on Simon once and Johnny happened to open the door and heard them flirting with his boyfriend. He got so possessive that he made out with the bigger man against their door jamb for like 5 minutes until Simon pulled him inside. The news spread very quickly after that

16) The apartment complex have a betting pool going about what they do for a living because they hold such weird hours and will disappear for months at a time. None of them wanna ask the two though cause they’re all a little scared of the both of them

17) Simon’s a bookworm and if it weren’t for their tiny apartment he’d have his own, personal library filled to the brim with books

[xo-katana]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ| Spider Punk Comes Home In A Bad Mood

Hobie climbs into the window of the shared one bedroom apartment, a small frown on his face as he throws his mask into the corner of the room.

Y/n looks at him with a frown, frantically getting up from their bed. “Hobie? You’re injured! Come, let me get you fixed up!”

“I got it!” He yells out before walking out of the room and into the kitchen for a cup of water.

Y/n follows Hobie with a commonly used first aid kit with a concerned look watching as he chugs a glass of water. “Hobie, what’s wrong?” Her voice soft and gentle.

“It doesn’t matter. Just go to sleep, it’s late.” Hobie spat out with an annoyed expression on his face, walking past her and into their living room.

Hobie sighs whilst plopping down on the couch, Y/n stands in front of him, a nervous look on her face. Her hands pulling on the sleeves of her shirt as she looks at Hobie kick his feet up on the coffee table, throwing his head back with a low groan. Y/n gathers the courage to sit beside him with her legs crossed, turning to face Hobie who doesn’t acknowledge her for a while. Getting fed up with her presence, he lets out a deep sigh before staring at her. “What the hell are you doing? Get to bed. It’s late for fucks sake.”

Y/n frowns before opening the first aid, grabbing sterilizing wipes. “Please don’t speak to me like that Hobie. I’m your girlfriend, not your child.”

Before Hobie can respond, Y/n grabs his chin and begins to sterilize his cuts and grazes on his face slowly moving to do his hands— cuts and dried blood on them. She prepares herself to hear Hobie fuss and complain but is content with how Hobie doesn’t fight back. In fact, his entire body seems to relax as his face muscles begin to return to its natural spot. “Hobie-”

“I don’t want to hear it Y/n. Not now.” Hobie said spreading his legs out a bit, his eyes closed as his breathing slows down.

Y/n shrugs before wrapping his wounds with bandages. As soon as she finishes, she looks over at Hobie who had seemingly fell asleep. She smiles to herself before putting the first aid kit away, joining Hobie on the couch once again. Resting her head on his chest, she listens to his heartbeat. The slow steady pace of his heartbeat sounding like a lullaby she’d listen to as a kid. Her eyes slowly shutting causing her to drift off to sleep.

A few hours pass. The moon fully on display and Y/n has yet to wake up. Unlike Y/n, Hobie was up yet didn’t move. His body froze in place as he wraps his arms around his girlfriend who snores peacefully. During the quiet moment, Hobie is in deep thought. Sighing as if realizing what he did earlier was wrong. Moving slightly causes Y/n to stir in her sleep a bit. She groans quietly, opening an eye to stare up at her lover with an unsure look. “Hobie?”

Sitting up, she rubs her eyes while yawning. Her body shifts to stare straight at Hobie who leans closer to her. “Hey love?”

She tilts her head a bit, humming in response. “I apologize for earlier. I should’ve just told you what was bothering me.”

Y/n smiles at him as he reaches to grab her hand. “It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“Some villain got away today. That’s why I was in a bad mood.” Hobie says, looking at their intertwined hands. Her hand a bit smaller and softer compared to his large and calloused hands.

“But why are you being so hard on yourself?” Y/n leans in, a supportive look in her eyes as they dart from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes.

Hobie shook his head before staring up at her. “The day I met you was the day I told myself that I’d keep London the safest place on earth. Just for you. But hell, I couldn’t even do that.”

She places her forehead on his, a grin on her lips while her face gets a bit warm. “I’m sure you did everything you could’ve Hobie.”

He rolls his eyes sitting back up. “Nothing cool about letting a villain get away like that.”

Y/n looks at him with a smile. Chuckling, she moves herself to his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as her legs rest on the sides of Hobies thighs. “Well, you’ll always be my hero— which don’t quote me on it! I know you hate being called a hero! You’re human at the end of the day, we make mistakes love.” She says giving him butterfly kisses all over his face.

Hobie smiles, his hands relaxing on her waist as a low groan escapes his lips. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

She shrugs her shoulders while staying silent. Her head leaning to rest on his shoulder while he holds her closely. They share an intimate and silent moment together, their apartment peaceful and comfortably warm as Hobie embraces his girlfriend who had fallen asleep once again.

。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。

Very sorry if this is bad

[kyber-crystal]

midnight rain || benji dunn

summary: 4 times you realize you love benji dunn and 1 time you finally told him you loved him (it’s him, it’s always been him, and it always will be him)

words: ~2.4k

warnings: angst, mentions of violence, did i mention angst. but there's a happy ending i promise. also a fair amount of crying cause we love a reader who’s not afraid of being vulnerable in front of the man she cares about. feminism Yes

a/n: can you tell this is literally my favorite trope ever. also this is my first ever full length mission impossible oneshot…so if benji seems ooc then pls keep that in mind LOL. i promise i’ll get better w the more i write. i tried my best :) anyway enjoyyy

dedicated to @the-multiverse-of-fandoms who wanted basically anything benji/imf team related, i hope this did your wish justice!! & to @ilsastrenchcoat for giving me that lil push to branch out & write something new :)

i. what happens in budapest stays in budapest

“So when are you going to tell him?” Luther’s voice cuts through the buzz of static.

You flinched, with your earpiece nearly falling out at the sudden motion. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She knows what I’m talking about. Right, Ilsa?”

“What? That she’s in love with Benji?” Ilsa laughed in reply. “Oh. Of course she does. I thought everyone knew.”

“Can it,” you snapped, face feeling red-hot. “Last I checked, we were trying to track down an arms dealer. This isn’t the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.”

“London,” Luther corrected. You could practically hear him smirking. “This is burning slower than that damn White Barn candle I got on sale two years ago.”

You rolled your eyes and slid your gun back into its holster. Children. You worked with children.

But you knew they were right. They always were, but you would carry that admission with you to the grave if you had to. They knew you had fallen long before you did yourself—eight months ago when you were crammed into a tiny motel room in Budapest for a layover. The walls were so paper thin that you could hear Ethan snoring on the other side, and there was only enough room for one measly bed.

“I think the springs are broken,” Benji had pointed out.

“Very broken.”

“Did they forget to give us another pillow?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, you can take the pillow. I don’t need it anyway.”

“Benji, just take the damn pillow.”

“No, you take it. I don’t want you to complain in the morning that you don’t feel well rested.”

“…Fine.”

Just as you were about to drift off, you felt a warm hand squeeze yours and a familiar voice whisper “Sleep tight, I’ll bomb all the bed bugs and bad dreams for you.”

That ended up being the first nightmare-free, peaceful sleep you had in eleven years.

ii. home is where the heart is

Marrakesh right after sunset was unusually peaceful. The lively chatter of the bazaar below was calming down; and the weather wasn’t too hot nor too cold.

You had never seen so many stars like this in your entire life.

“You’re telling me that in all these years of living, you’ve never seen a sky full of stars?” Benji had asked you one evening during a team camping trip. “That’s not called living, it’s called dying.”

“I grew up in a big city, Dunn,” you sighed. “I would do anything for an unpolluted sky.”

“Benji’s inside, if you were wondering,” Ethan explained as he pulled out a seat next to you. “He just got back a few minutes ago.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He exhales and gives you a knowing look. “How long?”

“Ethan, you know I can’t…”

“What’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know, the weight of the world, maybe?” you guessed. “And when you’re constantly moving from place to place it’s hard to settle down and tell someone how you feel. It’s hard to find the perfect time…”

“There’s no such thing as the ‘perfect’ time, Y/N. You just need to find the right time.”

“But I don’t understand. It’s…for the first time in my life, I finally feel like I’m home…he makes me feel at home. But I can’t even say it. What if he doesn’t get it?”

“He will know. Trust me.”

“Who will know what?”

It’s impossible for Ethan to miss the way your face lights up as Benji steps out onto the balcony. He takes this as the opportunity to quietly step away, leaving you two to yourselves.

“Hi,” you say shyly, hands in your pockets.

“Hey, yourself,” he replies.

You step towards him and lean your forehead against his shoulder. He’s surprised at the sudden action but wraps his arms around you anyway, feeling grateful for your presence.

“Thank you,” you mumble against his shirt, though he’s not sure what exactly you’re thanking him for.

“Anytime.”

iii. he definitely is a fallen angel, right?

God, he had to be unreal, you thought as the Seoul skyline reflected off his face and washed him in a glowing gold. He could have just gone through hell and back and still look as if he had descended straight from the heavens.

You couldn’t look away. It was damn near impossible for you to.

You weren’t sure what you did to deserve him; he was far too precious for this cruel world. You walked through the doors of the IMF with eleven passports and a knife tucked against your thigh, not knowing what your future held. Benji, on the other hand, strolled in with the widest grin known to man on his face and eyes sparkling as if he had discovered the eighth wonder of the world. Polar opposites, and yet you’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Benji’s brows furrowed in concern. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking…I really need a drink.”

“Nonsense, you can’t even walk straight,” he stated as he glanced down at your ankle, which had been wrapped up in bandages. “You don’t need the soju to be walking around like a madman.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“I…”Letting out a shaky sigh, you bite the inside of your cheek until you could taste blood. “They almost got away. I almost jeopardized everyone’s safety and ruined the whole damn operation.”

“No, you didn’t,” he reassured you, “they didn’t get away. And besides…I think you did pretty damn great out there. Taking names, kicking ass, beating that one dude to death with the butt of your pistol…”

Your eyes shone with tears as you glanced over at him, a small smile now on your face. “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” he said softly as he brought a hand up to your cheek. You lean in to his touch and try to ignore the sparks that ignite as his skin brushes against yours. “I really think so. And you know what else?”

“What?”

“I think this calls for a celebration. How does charcoal-grilled KBBQ sound? Then we…we can go to that super cool design plaza north of the Han River and we’ll pretend we’re in another dimension. One where the IMF isn’t sending us on death-defying missions in which bad guys are out for our blood.”

The crinkles around your eyes make their first appearance in what seems like forever, and Benji’s heart warms. “You know me so well.”

“Well, of course. I’ve been trying to.”

He shrugs his jacket off and wraps it around your shoulders before pulling you close. You sink into him even deeper, and for a moment, you can pretend that everything is right with the world.

iv. as the world caves in

You don’t think you’ve ever cried in your life. Not even once.

Okay, maybe once. Twice. The first time was when you passed the field exam and you were so happy that you shed a few tears of joy.

The second time was right now: you watched as a strung-out Benji fought for his life in the hospital. You don't know how long it’s been since you got here, and all you could do now was pray to God that he would wake up.

You felt someone put a soft hand on your shoulder. “Sweetheart, you’ve been here for ages.”

Luther gave you a sad smile as he sat next to you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes.

“Why did it have to be him?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “but he’s going to be fine. He always is.”

“I hope…”

“Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll let you know when he wakes up,” he offered. He could tell you desperately needed sleep. “Try to relax.”

“Okay…”

It’s a solid four hours later when Benji finally stirs awake.

He blinks and rubs his eyes. “Luther…? Hey.”

“You’re awake, that’s good,” he stated. “Your blood pressure has gone up a lot since Y/N gave you her blood. If she didn’t, we’d be shipping your ass off to the funeral home.”

“She did what now?”

“She gave you her blood. Doc asked around but none of our types matched yours, except hers.”

“Oh.”

“I told her she’d pass out if she kept crying after the blood transfusion, but she cried the whole day. She first cried when you didn’t wake up. And now she’s going to start crying because you woke up. She worries about you a lot, you know. So much so that she often neglects her own well-being.”

A strange feeling works its way through Benji’s system. You cared… “Can you tell her I want to see her now?”

“Sure.”

A few moments later, you walk through the door—obvious tear tracks on your face—and sit by his bedside. “Benjamin Dunn, what the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t. Sorry…”

“You almost died.” You looked away and hastily wiped at your eyes. It didn’t help. “I watched you bleed out on the pavement and almost lose your life.”

He doesn’t know what else to say, so he simply reaches out and intertwines your fingers together, squeezing tight. More tears slip down your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m just glad you’re not in a body bag,” you choked out. “I’m just really glad you’re not dead.”

“Me too. Now come here,” Benji says, and he moves over on his bed to make room for you. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, and he drapes an arm across your waist. “Thank you for waiting.”

You end up falling asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

+i (v). it's always been you

It's hot as hell outside, your clothes are sticking to your skin, and you're sure that one hit would set you on fire.

“Why did we have to go into the middle of the damn Arabian desert?” Benji yells over the howling winds into his comm. He coughs as some sand gets into his mouth. “You can’t even build a sandcastle with this crap. I regret everything I said about disliking being in the van.”

“No idea!” you yell back. You wrap your protective scarves tighter around your head and mouth, and adjust your goggles. A loud bang! makes you flinch, causing you to quickly whip around and pull out your gun.

“Woah there, it's just me,” Ethan raised his hands in surrender. You slowly lowered your weapon. “Did you get the flashdrive?”

You nodded and quickly handed him the small piece of metal. He stores it away in his pocket before zipping it up. “Let's go.”

It takes another hour and a half to round up the whole team and escape safely. The sandstorm was worsening by the second and you would be incredibly lucky to escape relatively unscathed.

You’re breathing heavily as you board the helicopter and take off your equipment, leaning against the wall. You could still feel the man’s hands around your throat, trying to squeeze the life out of you.

The look of fury in Benji’s eyes as he pulled the trigger was permanently burned into the back of your mind. You’d never seen him that angry before—he was nowhere near what you’d call short-tempered. The most upset you’d ever seen him was when Ethan ate the last of his favorite potato chips a month ago. And even then, he didn’t raise his voice.

Benji crouches down in front of you and brings a cold towel to your face. It comes away stained a light crimson, and he tries not to panic. “Are…are you okay?”

“I'm okay,” you exhale. “Thanks for saving my ass out there. If you hadn't gotten there in time…"

“You're welcome,” he replies. “Why is it that we always take turns saving each other from near death experiences?”

“It's all part of the job,” you crack a grin. “Welcome to the IMF, where you go on suicide missions all the time but you're not allowed die. Pretty ironic if you ask me.”

“I know, right?” He sounds like he's going to say something else, but then pauses. Upon peering closer, he sees a series of blue and purple handprint splotches on the sides of your neck. “Y/N…”

“I'm okay, I promise,” you say quickly. “Don't worry about me.”

“I don't get how you can stay so calm in situations like this,” he says, exasperated. “You scare me sometimes.”

“It's no big deal, really.” But your voice cracks, and that's when you finally break down and burst into tears. “I’m used to danger. I just—”

“Hey hey hey, it's going to be alright,” he murmurs as he moves closer to bring you in for a hug, arms snaking around you and holding on as tight as he possibly could. Your tears slowly begin to stain his shirt with dark spots, but he couldn't care less. “You're safe and you're going to be okay. You are going to be okay because I'll be here for you. Always.”

“You promise?”

“Pinky promise.” He holds his pinky out, and you wrap your finger around his. “I swear on my life. I’m here to stay whether you like it or not.”

The words slip out before you could even realize what you were saying.

“God, I love you,” you mumbled against his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. “More than anything. I should’ve…I really should’ve told you a long time ago. I don’t know why I waited so long to tell you. You felt like home to me and I found comfort in that and I loved you so much for it, Benji. I still do.”

The air suddenly feels heavy and that’s when the weight of what you had said finally sinks in. It feels like an eternity of awkward, strained silence all around before he opens his mouth to reply.

“I love you too,” he says, “Always have.”

And as your lips touch, all the aches and pains and barely-recovering broken bones seem to disappear. You can’t even remember why you were so upset in the first place because you’re safe here with him and he’s finally, finally kissing you, and all you really need to think about is the fact that the man you truly loved and needed more than anything had been right here all along and it was perfect.

The ride home is a long one, so you allow yourself to relax in his comforting arms and drift away to a distant dreamland. Ethan gently nudges Luther in the shoulder, motioning for him to take a glance back at the sight.

“You owe me twenty,” he reminds him with a toothy grin.

tags, including ppl who may be interested (lmk if you'd like to be added, or you can add yourself via this form!): @kenobismullet @voguesir @fl0ating @lady-elena-adeline

once again, my taglist has not been updated in a hot second, so i'm not sure which users are still active/if they've switched to another url. i apologize for any potential inconveniences !!

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (I): Cruel Summer.

Imagine it’s a modern world and you, such a good girl, fall in love with Aemond Targaryen. But worst is… he’s already taken.

Warnings: fluff; drama, light smut. Rom-Com vibes.

***

You are Helaena’s best friend since college when you took a few of biology’s classes for your course. A bound that now surpasses times, you are often seen around at the Targaryen’s household, an inheritance of Helaena’s father to her, which she shares with Aemond and Aegon, her brothers.

Initially, Aegon had taken a like of you, but by then you were in a relationship, so nothing came to it. However, now you are single again and trying not to get yourself involved in further relationships when cupid seems to play with you again.

How could you know, but an opportunity to travel with Helaena and Aemond came up.

“It’s summer”, Laena is telling you as you have just arrived for Aegon’s party. House is full and you are dressed elegantly for the occasion, but you two are outside because your friend is not very fond of noisy people. “We should travel to countryside. Do you want to come with us?”

“Us who, Laena?”, you tilt your head, sipping your champagne. “And when do you plan to go?”

“Me and Aemond. We don’t like these parties Aegon throw, you know. So we want to get away as soon as we can”, she gives you a mischievous smirk.

You raise your eyebrows. Aemond is the one with a bad boy fame, socially awkward, and whom you rarely had seen these years. Nonetheless, like Helaena, he doesn’t strike your as the type of not fond of partying.

“He’s just busy working with his PhD in Humanities”, she tells you when seeing your puzzled look. “So why don’t we take a break, eh? It’s not as if Aegon will get hurt if we do.”

“Okay… but when do you want to go?”, you’d think this is typical of Aegon to party hard and have his siblings out for the weekend.

“Soon.”

“How soon? I didn’t bring my clothes, I am not prepared to do a long trip”, you protest.

Laena, also enjoying her champagne more than she’d like to admit, waves her hand dismissively.

“It’s no big deal. We are sisters. What is mine is yours.”

Little surprised you are that she has such an influence over you. When have you ever denied her anything?

Knowing this, Laena beams and hugs you.

“You are the best!”

***

Dressed in dark green robes, walking unaffectedly, Aemond spots you and Laena giggling. He sighs, wondering why on earth he’d agree with his sister’s plans on getting away of Aegon’s party.

But then again, he loves a great escape, doesn’t he? Often the dramatic, as their mother likes to snort about.

When seeing you, he cannot help but noticing your curves, taking some time in admiring your cleavage. Then something comes to his mind and Aemond is forced to look away, although he captures a blush painting your cheeks which pleases him very much.

“Well, ladies? Y/N, nice to see you again.” He nods at you.

You feel so suddenly disconcerted that all you can do is nod back. Helaena, not noticing what had just happened, jumps in his arms, thanking him many times for this adventure the three of you are about to have.

You are still processing his gaze, noticing his alluring presence, when he takes you to his very fancy car. As you slide to the back seat, behind Helaena’s, you seem to forget how to breath.

Bad, bad boy. Shiny toy with a price(…) Devils roll the dices, angels roll their eyes.

As soon as he starts driving, every sound dies when Helaena starts to snore. Aemond sees through the rear view that you are uncomfortable so he decides to break the ice.

“Is everything well there?”

You spot a smirk dancing in those lips. And you blame on the alcohol for picturing yourself on his lap and kissing him fervently.

You clear your throat so you focus. Aemond is slightly amused by your awkwardness.

“I… Yes, yes, it is. I was just overthinking. A bad tendency of mine, I suppose.”

“What is it that you are overthinking about?”, he inquires you, possibly aware of the cause of it and instigating you to speak it…

“It’s a silly reason. I don’t often take chances like this, traveling out of the blue, completely unprepared.”

If Aemond is disappointed with the answer, he doesn’t let it show. But he chuckles, though.

“There’s nothing wrong with planning if you don’t forget how to live your life.”

You tilt your head, detesting how easily you lock eyes with him.

“What’s living your life for you in this aspect?”

Aemond side smirks at you.

“For once, not letting others bossy me around.”

You laugh quietly.

“I don’t think you are easily bossed, Aemond.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“What exactly are your thoughts about me, Miss Y/N?”

“I see you so little that I couldn’t form my judgement of you, Aemond”, you smile at him. “Though I don’t think I can judge anyone at all.”

“Not even if they do bad things?”

“What bad things have you done?”

He seems to stay quiet for a while, watching regret rise to your eyes as you don’t like this silence that hangs between you two so suddenly.

“Some things are better left unsaid”, Aemond sort of justifies. “Look, we are here.”

As he carefully wakes Helaena and takes her inside, you struggle with balance as you leave the car. It’s three in the morning, and you wait as some lights are turned on by Aemond, watching as he carries his sister inside.

The house is a typical lake house, or so you think, comfortable and made of wood. The walls are painted in a light shade of green and you can tell that everywhere else is larger: there are trees surrounding you, a firepit, and boats. Yeah, definitely it’s a lake house.

“Are you staying there?”, you hear a voice calling you out.

Coming to the car to pack small bags is Aemond. You notice his hair is short.

“Did you cut your hair?”, you ask him.

He gives you an amused glance before helping leading you inside—since you are still under effect of alcohol.

“Yeah I did. Did you like it?”, he smiles at you when seeing you blush.

“Maybe”, you whisper, hoping he doesn’t listen.

But he does. Aemond finds you adorable.

“Thanks, princess. So…Here you are. You can stay at my mother’s room and use her clothes. Or I could get some of Laena’s for you.”

“Thank you for being so kind. Are you sure it’s okay if I wear something…?”

“Yeah. She likes you all right, she wouldn’t mind.” He could have added that Mrs Alicent hates his girlfriend, for example, but he doesn’t share this detail yet.

You nod, not realizing Aemond’s been studying you.

“Thank you once again”, you raise your eyes to smile at him.

Aemond’s taken aback by the innocence stamped in your features. No reason why you are friends with Laena, he thought.

“Anytime.” He nods his head and leaves, wishing to ignore that so suddenly a spark came uninvited.

You watch him go, disappointed. But turning to close the door, you move to the comfortable bed and drop asleep. All else is briefly forgotten.

For now.

***

What doesn’t kill me makes me want you more.

For a strange reason you are the first to wake up the next day. You look for a swim suit since the morning is apparently hot—no more a prelude to summer, but it in itself—, decided to have a go at the lake.

It’s a beautiful sight from Mrs Alicent’s quarters: when pulling away the curtains, you are in awe at the dark blue lake that runs deep, cut by houses that stand from two sides of the land. There are already boats on, children having fun and adults too. You smile as you hear the birds singing, it’s all so peaceful and inviting.

After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you opt for making yourself coffee when to your surprise Aemond is already preparing it.

“Up so early?!”, you cannot help yourself.

Aemond is shirtless this morning, only wearing pants. You struggle to keep yourself composed as your eyes scan his well build muscles.

Oh Lord.

It’s what you think, detesting to feel some ache in your feminine parts. But thankfully you are able to repress your impressions as he looks at you with an amused smirk displayed on his lips.

“Yes. A bad habit. I’m surprised you are up early. It’s not even nine o’clock yet”, with a move of his head he invites you to sit at the table that is behind him.

As you do so, you reply:

“I couldn’t set myself to sleep properly. I suppose it’s because I am not used to new beds.”

As he finishes cooking some eggs and preparing coffee, Aemond serves you breakfast.

“I can imagine. We did all so suddenly. But in honesty it’s for the best. Aegon’s parties are too much for us”, he tells you. “We only show up to greet guests and that’s it. After a couple of drinks he doesn’t notice us anymore.”

You frown at that.

“I’m sorry to hear that”, you say as you drink coffee.

Black coffee. The way you like it. You smile in content, a sight most pleasant to see. Aemond smiles back.

“Do you like black coffee too, uh? It’s perfect for me as well. But don’t be sorry. It is what it is. What about you? You are familiar with our dysfunctional family, but I know nothing of yours.”

You’d never think Aemond could be talkative if he so wanted. Turns out, however, you are the one who, when encouraged, speaks a lot. But he actually listens when you tell him about your divorced parents, how you ended up living with your grandparents, your profession, everything.

“I think I overshared, didn’t I?”, you think out loud, embarrassed.

“I don’t think you did”, he smiles at you, locking eyes with you again, giving you that same aching you feel obliged to repress. “I’m protective to Helaena and I lament I had no opportunity to get to know her best friend better.”

You tilt your head with a gentle smile on your face.

“So am I a suitable companion for her?”

He is still watching you intently when he says:

“Of course you are, Y/N. Now let’s get you to the lake.”

*

How the hell are you on his back and holding him tight like a monkey? You don’t know how easily he convinced you doing that, but here you are. Holding your legs, Aemond runs to the lake and…

SPLASH.

You are both under the cold water. But you are still holding onto him as you laugh out loud.

“You are crazy!”

He turns his head lightly so he can match your gaze. A smile is on his lips when he says:

“Am I?”

“The lake seems too deep for me!”, you justify for remaining locked onto his back.

Aemond raises an eyebrow, not minding at all that you are there—he knows he should, but he likes to feel your warmth against him, his fingertips still caressing your thighs.

“It’s completely safe though”, says he, unwilling to let go of you. “Hold on tight, monkey. I’ll take you to the other side of the lake.”

It’s a fun morning for both of you. Staying like this so close, only reluctantly you part to dive in these blue waters, ignoring his lustful gaze at your curves, he hates how easily such thoughts occur him.

And worst. It’s not only about carnal, but when you two speak, it is as if everything is connected. A sentiment, he perceives, so evident in your y/c eyes.

But the moment is briefly gone when Helaena shows up at the window and yells:

“How naughty of you for not waiting for me!”

***

These first days end up in a first week. Every morning you and Aemond leave your beds early to swim together. Every morning, a new intimacy seems to flow.

But it’s only when sun rises slowly in the first hours that you two can spend some time together by yourselves…or when Helaena is the first to retire after a long day.

In late nights, you two watch movies, share a beer and thoughts. But when it becomes too unbearable to keep away this tension between one another. Something happens.

A bell rings.

“Can you open the door, please?”, Aemond asks you as he’s preparing your favorite breakfast. He’s all smiley today, completely forgetful of the consequence of his getaway.

“Of course”, you smile too, sensing his eyes on you as you are dressing shorts today a blue bikini on top.

But when you open the door, you don’t find Aegon or any Targaryen relative on the other side. Instead a taller, dark-haired sensual woman looks you up and down, making you feel embarrassed of yourself.

“H-Hello”, you try not to forget your manners. “Good morning. May I help him?”

“Is Aemond Targaryen here?”, she asks you cooly.

You try to act in a nonchalant manner as you are under those judging eyes.

“He is. I’m sorry, but who are you?”

“Oh”, the older woman seems pleased to find you in ignorance. “He hasn’t had the grace to tell you about me? I’m Alys Rivers, his girlfriend.”

***

So cut the headlights, summer’s a knife. (…) It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got.

You are sitting in front of the firepit eating your marshmallow as you consider the last events. In a matter of thirty days, your mind has been fed with what you now realize to be an illusion.

You fell for his smile, desired his body, admired his wit. You felt heard and seen for the first time in your life. You thought that he encouraged you in holding him tight, smelling his scent when you dived in together… or when you danced after getting drunk with a couple of beers.

Now these memories are poisoned with the fact he fooled you. How cruel. But you should know better, bad boys don’t like good girls.

Tears raise to your eyes, but you swallow them. You don’t see Helaena coming to your side. The two of you stay silent until she breaks it.

“I’m sorry, Y/Nickname.”

“Why are you feeling sorry for, my dear?”, you ask her, confused.

“Because I didn’t tell you he’s been taken. But honestly I was surprised he accepted my crazy idea of spending some weeks of this summer break without his girlfriend. No one likes her, really. She’s crazy.”

You smile at her attempts to cheer you up.

“It’s okay. I understand, truthfully.”

“You’d be a better girlfriend, though”, she smiles back, giggling when seeing a weak blush painting your cheeks. “It’s true. Mama loves you, and no one else is diplomatic like you.”

You scoff at her. A different aching has your heart breaking.

“Helaena, my honey. Don’t get yourself delusional. It does us little good. But I appreciate it though. Truthfully.”

Though your words aim to a self protection, you need a comfortable embrace and Helaena, knowing you, promptly gives it to you. You two stay like this for a while until she says:

“There is a party going on at the neighbor’s.”

You look up at her and say:

“I thought you didn’t like these kind of parties.”

“Aegon’s parties”, she corrects you, pleased to make you smile. “Come on. It can be fun.”

You wish you had an arguments to say no, but seeing Helaena is actually excited to go to the neighbor’s party, you decide to join her. After changing clothes—you dress a white top and a black skirt with red high heels; and Laena is dressing a short dress—you finally go to the party, pleased that at least with Aemond and Alys gone, you’d not have to see them again.

***

I’m drunk in the back of the car. And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar. Said “I’m fine”, but it wasn’t true.

When seeing Laena having a great time with the said neighbor, a handsome lad named Jacaerys, you raise your eyebrows at her insistence in going there. You laugh to yourself, letting her having her fun all the while you look for yours.

You grab one and then another beer. Losing track of time, you prefer to dance like crazy at the gardens. All of this and you don’t see him crossing the limits that separate Jacaerys’s gardens to the Targaryens’s ones. You don’t see him rushing after you, face carefully in check.

You don’t know his desperate thoughts. Couldn’t even think he’s realized a little too late that you captured his heart, taking as he is, never indulging in his bad boy fame or expecting him to be better.

And here he is. Aware he has your heart broken, by never being honest with you about his connection with that woman that is now his ex, he comes to pursuit you.

“Y/Nickname”, his husky voice comes at you.

And you freeze as you turn around only to watch him standing in front of you.

“Aemond”, you avoid his gaze.

“There are so many things to be said. I should have told you I was in a relationship”, he says urgently, trying to take your hands but he is hurt when you give a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was trying to run from her and…”

But you are not listening. You take a long sip of the beer and decide to go back home. Aemond, however, is not a quitter.

“Y/N!” He then holds your arm, making you look at him. “I’m sorry. What can I do to earn your forgiveness?”

I don’t wanna keep secrets to keep you. (…) And I screamed for whatever it’s worth “I love you”. Ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

“I hate you”, and for the very first time you burst in tears. “Leave me alone.”

“No. I won’t”, he is firm on that. “I love you.”

“It’s a little too late for that”, you suddenly realize you two have snuck in the gardens of Aemond’s parents’ summer household.

But he’s too close to you now. Aemond’s eyes are so expressive and when you find his blue ones…

“You don’t love me”, you accuse him, heart racing.

“I do. I fucking love you, Y/N Y/LN. I left everything to be with you, to fix my damned mistakes”, he cups your face and you spot some tears in his eyes. “In losing me, I found you.”

You know he’s being sincere. He is the devil and you are the angel. But then what? You love him regardless.

***

His lips taste so good, his tongue sliding into your mouth makes you shiver. There is drunkness and sobriety in one kiss, mixed all the way. But neither seems to mind.

You are now at the couch, hands quickly removing his shirt, your nails ensuring to leave your mark in his skin.

“Goodness me, woman!”, he groans, aroused. “Never took you as a possessive one.”

You smirk at him, but there is little time to answer as his mouth dives into your neck, pulling gently your hair as his hand slides to your sides. Finally he parts, breathlessly so, as he lifts your shirt and helps removing your skirt.

The way he watches you makes you dripping wet.

“You are so mine”, says Aemond in the kind of authority voice that accepts no otherwise.

“That I am, sir”, you kiss his lips passionately, your hands going to his pants and there working out with his rigid manhood. “As much as you are mine.”

Your mind, however, goes blank the moment he begins to play with your breasts. You moan hotly in his ear, trying to focus, but damn it’s so difficult.

“My dear Y/N”, he moans your name in such a way.

It’s been a cruel summer, indeed, when every teasing has not prepared for its consummation. And now he has you under his command, lifting your legs to stay in between, playing with your feminine parts as his mouth takes a long time in each nipple, making you moan louder and louder.

“So wet for me”, he groans against your skin, pleased to be responsible for your yearnings. “Fuck!”

He lifts his face to contemplate yours all the whilst preparing to slide his manhood into you. Locking your hands above your head, he smirks down at you.

“I corrupted you, my sweet angel”, Aemond bites down your lips. He now spots some bruises showing on your skin.

“I redeem you”, you say softly.

He smiles at you.

“My savior”, he leans to kiss you slowly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And thus the night is the only witness of how one surrenders to the other in endless making love.

***

Epilogue.

It’s that family barbecue. Aemond watches as you interact with his relatives, a proud side smirk on his display.

“Finally you got rid of that woman”, he listens to Alicent’s pleased sigh. “I always knew Y/N was the right one for the family.”

“For me, mother. For me”, the silver haired male corrects her arrogantly. “She’s my future wife.”

Alicent beams at his son.

“Does she know?”

Unconsciously you turn your head and flash him a big smile. You love his family, but you love him more. Aemond doesn’t resist staying away from you. He just winks at his mother before going at you.

Snaking his arms around your waist, he rests his chin over your shoulder and side eyes at you.

“What?”, you tell him in between giggles as you sense his stare.

“Be my wife”, he blurts out.

Your jaw drops, not really expecting that. But there’s no need to think twice.

“Yes, of course.”

And then you two live happily ever after.

[mybiasisexo]

Entangled - Part 8

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Chapter Warnings: Language   Word Count: 5k Author Notes: okay, I feel like this is lowkey a filler chapter 😭. but I like it so idk lmao. so much has happened since I last updated. I quit my old job, got a new one (that's kicking my ass. pray for me) had my bday and saw Beyonce 3 times!! but yeah as always sorry for the delay, hope you like the chapter and feel free to lmk what you thought!!! I loooove feedback and y'alls commentary!!! makes my damn day!! have fuuuuuun~!

You come to the following morning from what is possibly the best sleep you’ve gotten in years. A yawn escapes you as you stretch your tender body.

The action has you aware of something not moving around you, and you glance down to see a heavy arm thrown over your waist. As if the owner of the limb can sense your attention, it constricts, pulling you closer to a heat behind you.

Startled, you tense up, not even daring to breathe as you carefully roll onto your back and then turn your head the rest of the way until you’re knocking your nose gently against Chanyeol’s.

He’s in a deep slumber. Gentle snores leave his slightly parted lips, and his features are relaxed. He looks so peaceful, so serene, so…content. It melts your heart. You can’t help but stare at him, noticing the way his silky tawny hair falls across his pillow and the stubble poking out of his chin that grew in from the night before.

The night before….

Your eyes widen at the reminder and you’re sitting straight up, causing Chanyeol’s arm to fall limply on your lap.

Oh, you’ve really done it now.

Chanyeol stirs, and you think you’ve woken him, but he just rolls onto his other side, revealing his naked back to you.

Harsh rows of red raised skin catch your attention–the proof of how good a lover he is. Even though you know to some men, Chanyeol included, the scratches are a badge of honor, you only feel remorse from causing him pain.

His lack of clothing has you aware of your current state of undress and you quickly pull the thin sheet over your chest. It’s a silly action. Chanyeol’s sleeping, but even if he was awake, he’s seen your breasts plenty of times, had them in his goddamn mouth last night for christ’s sake.

Still, you must at least try to preserve some dignity.

You dare another glance at the man beside you, as if he’s a figment of your imagination that will vanish once you’re in your right mind. He doesn’t go away, so you must be really out of it.

Groaning, you drop your head, hitting your forehead repeatedly with the palm of your hand.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

Fucking your ex fiance was the last thing you had planned to do on this trip. Getting closure? Sure. Making peace? The least you could have done. Now? Things have become even more complicated. Which is pretty impressive given everything that has transpired over the last couple days. And Yerim…. God, Yerim. She hasn’t even been gone twenty-four hours and you’ve already jumped her man’s bones. Sure, he was yours first, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Shit, maybe you are the problem.

As if you aren’t already about to dive in a pool of panic, a memory from the night before decides to reveal itself. The knowledge has you gasping, staring unseeingly ahead of you in terror.

Did you tell Chanyeol you loved him?

Oh, god. Oh, fuck.

Yeah, you gotta get out of here.

Feeling nauseous, you stumble out of the bed, crumbling to the ground the minute you put weight on your legs. Your bambi legs are a byproduct of Chanyeol’s pleasurable menstrations, having you literally weak in the knees. You shake your head and push through the slight throbbing of your core, standing carefully on shaky legs. Chanyeol chooses this moment to toss back around so that he’s facing you again. The arm that was around you earlier flops forward to reclaim its position, but lands on egyptian cotton instead. His eyebrows scrunch together as his hand idly runs over the empty space–searching for you. Feeling bad, you pull down a pillow. His fingers find it and yank it towards him, curling into it like a toddler with his favorite teddy bear. Your name leaves his mouth in a content breath, and all the turmoil in you dissipates for a moment. Maybe you’re overreacting? Yerim won’t be too mad, right? And Chanyeol still wants you, right? Last night meant something to him?

Did it mean something to you?

You can’t even think about that right now. Truth is you have no idea where you stand, and are even more confused than before the wedding. You’ve blurred the lines and anything can mean anything.

What you do know is that you need to leave, and you need to do it before Chanyeol wakes up. You can’t face him right now, not before you understand your emotions and actions.

“Focus,” you order yourself. You scan the floor that is now a mess of discarded garments, and a shimmer of gold catches your eye. You snatch it up, only to find it’s Chanyeol’s tie. You stare at it, remembering the way he demanded you to undress him, and drop it like it shocked you, shivering from the memory. That is definitely not what you’re looking for. 

There. A little further you find your dress and underwear. You slide them on quickly, not bothering to zip up your dress. You’re only going a few doors down, so you only hold it against your chest.

Despite telling yourself to focus, you can’t stop thinking about your confession. Obviously it was the lust speaking, the nostalgia. Yeah, that’s all that was.

Chanyeol never said it back.

The epiphany straightens your back, and you startle as you lock eyes with yourself in the floor length mirror directly in front of you. The woman before you is tragic, her hair poofy and stiff, eyes rimmed black, face puffy and nose still red from crying. You look like the clown you are.

You shudder, truly haunted, and head out. You pause by the door to slip into your shoes and grab your purse. Your heels have a buckle, but you can’t risk wasting any more time, so you don’t bother securing them. 

You open the door and a choir of angels begin to sing.

Their joyous voices die with a record scratch at the sight of Byun Baekhyun standing on the opposite end, fist up as though he’s about to knock.

You can’t catch a break.

He takes you in, visibly shocked. He says your name in a dramatic loaded question and you wince at his volume, bouncing off the walls. Damn, this is not good.

“What are you doing here?” He asks accusingly.

You quickly peek over your shoulder, checking to see if your new visitor is loud enough to wake Chanyeol. He doesn’t stir, and you can’t fight the pride that blooms in you. You wore that man out!

Shaking the emotion off, you turn back to Mr. Loud Mouth in front of you.

“Hush,” you hiss, shoving him back with the arm not currently holding both your dress, and what little you have left of your sanity, together. You make sure the door closes with a gentle ‘click’ before grabbing Baekhyun’s arm, dragging him the couple doors down to your suite. He yelps and asks where you’re ‘kidnapping’ him. It’s easy to ignore his helpless cries with the obnoxious sound of your heels slapping against your feet. 

Once in front of your door, you dig through your purse for your key, forgetting you didn’t secure your dress. The top half flutters down, titties basking in the breeze.

You freeze, eyes closing tightly as you bite your bottom lip so hard you think you’re going to bite it off. Your only saving grace is that Baekhyun is behind you, obscuring his view of your private bits.

You hear him huff in annoyance before he’s brushing your hair out of the way, gathering your dress, zipping it up as far as it can go with your arms not in the sleeves.

“Thank you,” you whisper, face burning in shame. Dejectedly, you find the key and get you both in. You kick your clacky shoes off, not wanting to draw unwanted attention, and lead Baekhyun to your room. You rest your forehead against the door as you close it, giving yourself a moment to just breathe.

Once you’ve deluded yourself into thinking you’re good, you turn around and face your friend. He’s taken residence in your vanity chair, searching your frazzled figure with worry. You can only imagine what you must look like from his point of view.

Finally, he musters the courage to speak. “You look….”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Okay…. Would you care to explain why you were running out of Chanyeol’s room like you robbed him? In your wedding clothes, no less, first thing this morning?”

You rub your eyes. To be honest, no, you didn’t want to have this conversation. Especially with Baekhyun. No offense to the guy, you adore him, but he’s not really known for taking things seriously. Except… right now it does appear he’s taking this situation very seriously. Although there is a hint of playfulness in his tone, you can’t see any of it on his face, only genuine concern.

Defeated, you sigh and march to your bed, plopping down onto the edge to bury your face in your hands.

“We had sex.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” he answers sarcastically. You glare at him through your fingers. He grins in reply, but it’s soft, reassuring, letting you know that everything will be okay.

It slips from his face as a thought occurs to him. “You weren’t drunk, were you?”

You shake your head and he lets out a relieved breath.

“Quite the opposite. It was probably the most sober decision I’ve made this whole trip.”

“So, what went wrong?”

“I just….” You recall your confession and wince, stomach flipping with embarrassment. “We ended up running into each other in the elevator and went to his room. We were only supposed to talk. But, I don’t know. You know the wedding was a lot for us both. And this trip has been very stressful and tense and we haven’t been alone since we got here and maybe that was for good reason because obviously we couldn’t handle that if–”

“You’re rambling,” he interrupts.

You take a deep breath. 

“I told him I loved him,” you push out before you can regret admitting it. It sounds even worse spoken out loud.

“And?” He asks, skeptically.

You blink in surprise at his reply. “And he, well, he didn’t say it back.”

You avoid his gaze and bring your knees to your chest and nibble on your thumbnail anxiously, waiting for Baekhyun’s response to the new detail. You must have rendered him speechless, because he remains silent. Either that, or he’s trying to figure out the best way to let you down on Chanyeol’s behalf. That makes you stiffen your shoulders, bracing yourself for the cold dose of reality. It never comes, and his lack of response drags until you think you’re going to explode.

Finally, you whip your head up to him exasperatedly just to see him looking at you like you’re the dumbest bitch he’s ever seen.

“What?” You snap, hating how condescending his expression is.

He rolls his eyes at your tone and lets out a laugh coated in disbelief, rubbing his forehead. “I love you, but you’re stupid.”

“I know,” you sulk, pouting as you rest your chin on your knees. “I wasn’t thinking straight, obviously. I got too caught up in the moment. Being with him like that, it brought me back to the good ol’ days, when we were falling in love. But, we’re not in college anymore. We’re not the same people we were when we were together.”

You furrow your brows, really trying to untangle your thoughts. It’s a lot easier to do with someone to look at.

“That’s what it is. I mean, how can I still love a man I don’t know? I can still have lingering feelings for the man I used to know, though. Maybe having sex was a good thing? All that leftover tension between us can finally rest. Yeah, that’s what last night was–left over tension. Now that we’ve done the deed, we should be good now. Sure, we still need to have a talk, there’s still some things we need to address to fully move on, but I think the hardest part has passed.”

You search your friend’s face for the right answer. “Right?”

His lips thin and then he’s sighing. “Do you want to know what I think?”

You nod miserably, thoughts too chaotic to decipher any logic.

Baekhyun stands up and walks over to you, reaching out to rub your arms comfortingly. In a gentle murmur he says, “I think you need some breakfast.”

A surprised chuckle leaves you as you lean forward, resting your forehead against his stomach. “You’re probably right.”

You relax under his touch, and you both stay like that. His hands go from your shoulders to your back, rubbing soothing circles onto your skin. The repetitive trail makes you drowsy.

The door swings open.

“I thought I heard you co–OH MY GOD!”

Seulgi stands dumbfounded at the door, the hand not frozen on your door knob covers her hanging jaw. Shock coloring her face as she takes in the compromising sight before her.

Baekhyun stumbles quickly away from you, tripping over his feet in his haste.

“It's not what it looks like!” You defend. That’s literally the worst line you can possibly say to her.

“What the hell!” She squeaks. “What the fuck is happening right now!?”

“We were just about to get something to eat!” Baekhyun says, as if that explains anything.

“HUH?!” Seulgi starts fanning her reddening face. She turns to you, not even going to humor him. “Look, I know this weekend has been rough for you. I understand you wanting to distract yourself by getting underneath someone. But, to sleep with Baekhyun of all people–”

“Hey!” The man in question barks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Seulgi, please,” you beg. Crawling off the bed, you stumble over to her. “That’s not what happened at all!”

Your words go through one ear and out the other as she glares at Baekhyun, who’s shivering in his metaphorical boots under her judging stare. “I can’t believe you would do this! Chanyeol is your best friend! Do you not care how this will affect him when he finds out?”

“We didn’t do anything,” you plead.

“Then explain what I just walked into! Explain why you look a damn mess! And are those–are those hickeys?”

“I HAD SEX WITH CHANYEOL!” You yell in her face.

“I–wait, what?” You can see the internal conversation she’s having with herself as she tries to comprehend what you just confessed to her. When your words have meaning, a look of sheer horror contorts her lovely features.

“You didn’t.” Her voice is low, threateningly so.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, even more anxious than when Baekhyun was questioning you. 

Your silence is an admission and she yells your name accusingly.

“I know!” You agree. “Please, I know!”

“I don’t understand. How? Why? I thought you were over him, or at least trying to be. I–”

“Hey,” Baekhyun cuts her off, joining your little party. He rests a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s let her take a shower and get into some clothes that don’t have cum stains on them. Then we can get breakfast. She can explain everything then.”

“There’s no cum on my dress,” you mumble with a frown.

“I know Chanyeol’s kinks,” Baekhyun says. You huff in defeat.

Seulgi’s cat shaped eyes bounce back and forth between you both skeptically. You can see all the questions she has running through her pretty head.

“Alright,” she reluctantly agrees. “Hurry and get ready. I’m starving.”

You have a feeling it’s not food she’s hungry for.

Baekhyun leads her out of your room, throwing you an apologetic look, and you wonder how many more times he’s going to look at you like that.

Nearly an hour later, you find yourself in a little unassuming mom and pop restaurant. Baekhyun’s grandmother lives on the island, so he knows all the local hot spots. The ajumma serving you is absolutely thrilled to see him, promising to put a bit more love in your food, which you can definitely taste upon your first bite. It is exactly what you need after the active night you’ve had.

“Yerim made it home safely,” Seulgi informs, not glancing up from her plate as she does.

Your lips thin at the mention of her sister, knowing she’s bringing her up on purpose.

You didn’t need her reminder. Yerim has been on your mind all morning.

“Yeah?” You finally answer. “Glad to hear. I’m sure she’ll hate me for good once she finds out what I did right after she left.”

“She’ll get over it,” Baekhyun is quick to dismiss.

“She’ll forgive you,” Seulgi allows. “But she’ll never forget.”

Leaning back, she finally gives you a sharp look. “What happened last night anyway?”

Luckily, you just so happen to scoop some food into your mouth when she asks that, so you take advantage and slow down your chewing. Aiming to enjoy every last bit, because you know it’s going to be the last time you’ll be able to. You swallow it down with some water, for good measure, taking your time chugging it empty. 

Seulgi watches in amusement, knowing what game you’re playing.

“Well,” you start, scratching behind your ear. “As you both already know, Chanyeol and I hooked up last night.”

“Hooked up?” Seulgi clarifies incredulously. It’s an interesting choice of words to describe what the two of you did.

Beside her, Baekhyun shakes his head, but keeps his opinions to himself, allowing you the floor.

“Yeah. And I want to say, for the record, that it was spontaneous. We just so happened to bump into each other when I was on my way back to the room. He asked me if I wanted to go to his room instead and I said yes–innocently! We were planning on just talking. And I mean, we did talk a bit?”

“Did you talk about Yerim?” Seulgi asks.

“No….” You avoid her stare and sink into your chair.

“Did you talk about your breakup?”

“No….”

Her eyes narrow. “So, what did you talk about?”

“About the wedding,” you answer like it’s obvious.

“And now it all makes sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You pout.

“The two of you have been tiptoeing around each other all weekend. I thought it was just the awkwardness of seeing an ex–in your case, an ex dating your friend. But I misread it. Now it’s pretty obvious that if it weren’t for Yerim, you would’ve probably slept with him sooner. It wasn’t awkwardness I felt, it was tension…the sexual kind.”

Your frown deepens. Were you seriously that weak? You thought you did a pretty damn good job resisting Chanyeol, but it only took three days to fall into his sheets. That wasn’t very strong of you at all. Seulgi is right. Yerim was the main reason for you keeping your distance, not your pride or your past. She had only been gone a few hours before you gave into him.

“Does that make me a terrible person?” You quietly ask.

“I don’t think so,” Baekhyun answers simply, shrugging when you lock eyes.

“It doesn’t,” Seulgi agrees, although she lets out a tired sigh right after. “But I still don’t understand why? It’s been years, girl, and you’ve never mentioned him once in that time. It’s been a while since you got laid, and even longer since it was with Chanyeol. Old habits die hard, and you didn’t get the closure you wanted, but sleeping with your ex seems so out of character for you.”

“He’s not just some ex, Seulgi,” Baekhyun intervenes. “He’s her ex fiance, and they didn’t break up on bad terms, necessarily. There’s still love there.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you interject, shifting in your seat uncomfortably. 

“So, it was just an old attraction? Old habits and all that?” Seulgi asks.

“I think so,” you say and she seems to melt in relief. “I think it was just left over sexual tension, and now that we’ve got it out of our system, we can be normal. We can move on.”

Baekhyun doesn’t seem convinced. “And you’re sure Chanyeol will agree with you?”

You shrug. “I don’t see why not. It was just sex.”

“It’s never ‘just sex’ with Chanyeol, and you know that. Especially when it comes to you.”

“You’d be surprised,” you mutter, mood dampening at the memory.

He doesn’t hear you. “And I know you’re lying. Didn’t you tell him you loved him last night?”

You glare at Baekhyun and he answers it with a smug smile, knowing he just set you up.

“You did what now?” Seulgi asks deadpan.

Internally you wince. “I might have told him I loved him while in the throes of passion.”

She says your name disapprovingly. 

“And you know what? He didn’t say it back. So, you see? It was nothing more than physical for him as well.”

Seulgi looks as though she has some words for you, but Baekhyun beats her to the punch.

“You both drive me insane,” he groans. “It’s obvious you both still care about each other, what’s the point of trying to talk yourself out of it? It’s never too late to try again, and trust me when I say Chanyeol wants to more than anything. He’s already asked you for a second chance. He wants this! He wants you!”

“He said all that when he was drunk off his mind, Baekhyun.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true!”

You groan and lean your head back against your chair, feeling the pressure of the world falling onto your shoulders. It hits you then, the weight of Chanyeol’s affection, and for a moment you’re back on that sidewalk, drowning in it. You remember why you left, remember the moment your love for him twisted into something dark. Chanyeol said you told him you hate him. Truth is, you had. With him back in your life, you forgot about that, forgot that there was another reason why you were trying to avoid him. Again, everything is even more confusing, and you find yourself at a total loss of what to do next.

“It’s okay to feel overwhelmed by that,” Seulgi reassures. She knows you way more than you give her credit far. “Everything is happening so fast. You don’t have to make a decision right now, and honestly, I don’t think it’s wise for you to.”

You lift your head back up and take in your concerned friends. With the way they’re both sitting on either side of each other before you, it’s almost like they’re the angel and devil on your shoulders. One speaks for your heart, while the other speaks for your mind. Holding onto each of your hands and yanking you back and forth like a rope in tug-o-war. 

“I don’t know the right answer,” you whisper, feeling your eyes water in frustration.

“Whatever’s going to make you happy,” Baekhyun answers simply.

You cough a laugh and a tear escapes, but you’re quick to wipe it away.

“I think,” Seulgi begins, reaching over and grabbing your hand. “You should give each other space, and wait until you’re back in Seoul. It’s only a couple days, and it’ll give both of you time to figure out what exactly it is you want from each other. Do you have an idea of what that is? Is it a relationship? Closure? Or just physical connection?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit.

She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows. You understand. She’s right.

“That’s probably the best idea,” you relent.

Baekhyun grunts in disgust. “Doesn’t Chanyeol deserve a say in this?”

“Of course he does,” you say.

“But that’s a conversation for later,” Seulgi intrudes. “Preferably with others around.”

You lift your hands up in defeat. 

Now that your problem has been solved for now, you all go back to eating in a comfortable silence. Everything still tastes amazing, thank fuck.

Suddenly, Baekhyun straightens and turns to Seulgi. “What did you mean earlier anyways? When you said me of all people?”

She scoffs. “Besides the fact that you’re a weirdo? You’re Chanyeol’s best friend. If you had slept together, it would be the deepest betrayal to him. But, if she had slept with any of you, my reaction would be the same. The only other person I could possibly see her with is Sehun, and even then….”

“Ew,” you both finish.

“I love all of you,” you say. “But not like that.”

“It’s the same for me too!” Baekhyun admits. “I would never do that to Chanyeol, because I would never do that, period. Don’t ever put that disgusting idea in anyone’s head again!”

“No problem!” Seulgi says, resolute.

You finish breakfast soon after that and leave for the hotel. Today is the first day of your little             reunion tour. Sehun figured that everyone would be too hungover to do anything that required movement, so you’re all just going to hang out at the beach and watch the sunset. Sounds like the perfect Sunday to you.

You all left your phones in the car, so the first thing you do once buckled up is check your notifications, reading the texts in the groupchat confirming some of the others were heading out to the beach and the location they chose. Baekhyun winces as he scans his device, catching your attention. When you lock eyes, he gives you that pitiful smile, almost like a warning, before turning his screen for you to read. It’s filled with texts and missed calls from Chanyeol.

“Oh boy,” is all you can muster, trying not to linger too much on the only message you can read: ‘please. I’m begging’.

“What’s up?” Seulgi asks from the backseat. Baekhyun proceeds to show her his phone and she shakes her head in dismay.

“Should I call him?” He asks.

“No,” you’re quick to reply. Avoiding his gaze, you settle into your seat, staring blindly out the windshield. You feel him watching you for a moment before sighing and starting the car, pulling out to drive you back to the hotel.

The elevator ride is long. You wonder if Chanyeol will be in the hallway when it opens. Baekhyun leans against the wall, rapidly firing off texts the whole way up. It takes everything in you not to ask him what he’s telling Chanyeol to calm him down. 

The doors open, and you’re both relieved and crushed to enter an empty hall. Baekhyun walks you both to your room, which is polite, but you all know is a front. His room isn’t on this floor, and you don’t need him to walk you back.

“Where are you going?” You can’t help but to ask.

He grins guiltily and nudges his head towards Chanyeol’s room. “I’m going to check on him. That’s why I came up here in the first place.”

“Right….”

He pats your shoulder. “Get ready and head down to the beach. I’m sure you got Jongdae’s text in the groupchat. Both him and Jongin are already setting up camp.”

“Don’t take too long,” Seulgi says in farewell before pulling you into the suite.

As soon as the door closes, she’s holding you by the shoulders, staring deep into your eyes. “You can’t go back on your word now.”

“I’m not,” you say, cringing as the way it sounds like a lie.

Her grip on you tightens. “It’s all going to work out. Don’t get all sulky.”

“I’m not.”

She smiles. “You’re such a terrible liar. It’s kind of cute.”

“Stop flirting with me,” you sigh, grabbing her hands to hold them instead. “I’m going to take your advice. We need space.”

“Space,” she repeats approvingly, rubbing your knuckles with her thumbs.

Banging on your door causes you both to jump.

“Yeol, stop it! I already told you they’re not there!”

“I need to know for sure.”

You swallow thickly at the sound of Chanyeol’s voice.

You hear Baekhyun sigh and then Chanyeol call your name, which jerks you closer to the door. Seulgi grips your hands harder, holding you back. You lock eyes. She shakes her head in warning.

“Are you in there?” He pauses briefly, waiting for you to reply. You hold your breath, afraid in the silence he can hear your heart’s rapid beating. “Please, open the door, Mel. I just… I just need to see you.”

His voice is calm, but alarmed, as if he’s trying not to sound as desperate as he feels. He knocks again, the reps urgent, giving away the worry he’s trying to disguise.

“I just need you to tell me everything’s okay.” Now his voice cracks.

Fuck it. You can’t avoid him forever. You go to open the door, but Seulgi’s hold is surprisingly strong and you can’t break it.

“Space, remember?” She whispers.

You didn’t know that started now. 

Reluctantly, you relax, leaning your head on Seulgi’s shoulder. She wraps her arms around you, rubbing your back as you wait for Baekhyun to do his job in getting Chanyeol away.

“I can’t do this again, man,” Chanyeol’s broken voice comes through the door. “I can’t lose her again. Not like this.”

“I know, Dude.” Baekhyun sounds just as helpless, and a wave of guilt washes over you from putting him in this position. “But, she’s not in there. Let’s go to my room so I can change. It won’t take long, so don’t even think of ditching me!”

A silence drags on for so long you’re sure they’ve left. 

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun urges.

“I–okay. Let’s go.”

You hear them retreat and let out a breath.

Seulgi whistles. “Quite the mess you’ve made.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “You can say that again.”

“Hey,” She rubs your arm. “He’s going to be fine. Let’s change. I’m sure you’re now very eager to get down there.”

You let her lead you to your room. The whole time you can’t get over the pain in Chanyeol’s voice, a pain that you caused.

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[shifterdomain]

She called me daddy / Jonah Hauer-King X Reader

Summary: You have a 3-year-old daughter from a past relationship, your former partner walking out on your relationship when you had ‘accidentally’ gotten pregnant. Luckily you met Jonah on a night out about a year ago and ever since he met your daughter the two have been completely in love. Now you were at the Little Mermaid premier to cheer on Jonah, hoping to stay behind the scenes, but your daughter had other plans. Warnings: Cuteness and a cussing toddler Word count: 916

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You had done the best you could at looking as pretty as possible for your boyfriend this evening, as much as you could have done after spilling jelly over your white dress when your toddler demanded her PB&J sandwich.

Hurrying to the venue you had luckily made it on time, watching as Jonah stepped onto the carpet, holding hands with his co-star Halle and laughing. Most people assumed that you would be jealous and you could understand why. Halle was beautiful and you could tell that her and Jonah had a connection, but you trusted him. You trusted the both of them and you knew that it was just friendship. So you couldn’t do anything but smile, holding your toddler’s hand as your eyes followed him across the blue carpet.

You couldn’t be more proud of what he had achieved. Crouching down beside your daughter you wrapped your arms around the little girl. “Look, there’s Jonah,” you pointed him out to her and she looked in awe as she saw him walk alongside Ariel. Her mind lost in the magic of the movies as she refused to believe that it was not real, so you decided to let her. “They look pretty tonight, don’t you think?”

She shyly nodded her head, her tiny fingers playing with her bottom lip as she balanced her weight around a bit. “I wanna say hi,” she murmured.

“You can say hi after they’re done taking photos, okay?” you reply, hugging her a little tighter as you watched your boyfriend pose for his pictures. Your heart swelling with love just as it did the first time you saw him.

Lost in the moment you didn’t realize that your grip had loosened, but Y/D/N did notice and she took the opportunity to pull free from your grasp and run towards Jonah. Your eyes widening in a slight state of panic, hoping that he wouldn’t be too mad as you tried to explain to the security that the girl who slipped past them was your daughter.

As you were doing so, you failed to see your daughter clutch onto Jonah’s pants sleeve, looking up at him with wideset eyes, the same kind of adoration in her eyes that you had in yours when you looked at him.

She shyly turned her face away from the flashing camera’s, causing Jonah to chuckle quietly as he scooped the girl up into his arms, holding her on his hip and hiding her face away from the camera’s.

“Hey sweetie, where’s mommy?” he asked, his voice hushed to keep her calm. She pointed in your direction and Jonah followed the line of her finger to see you talking to the security guards who refused to let you through. “Is mommy in a bit of trouble? Should we help her?”

Your daughter shook her head ‘no’ with a mischievous little smile on her face, giggling softly as she held onto the collar of his shirt. Jonah chuckled quietly as well, tossing her up slightly to hold her more comfortably.

“No?”

“No,” she stated firmly. “I wanna be a famous star and mommy tells me I can’t because she doesn’t want me to say something embarrassing about you like how you always snore in the morning,” she explained, a crimson flushing across his cheeks as he hears a few photographers laughing softly, knowing they heard what she said. “and I think that that is- can I say a bad word?” she cut herself off mid-sentence and Jonah, thinking that it couldn’t be that bad as she was only so young, gave her a nod. “I think that that is fucking bullocks.” she finished, Jonah’s eyes widening in shock as he placed his free hand over his gaping mouth. Hearing laughing behind him, he turned towards Halle, silently begging her for advice on what he should do as he tried his best not to freak out.

Halle couldn’t stop laughing however, finding it adorable how the little girl who was dressed up as Ariel cursed with a soft voice and a heavy British accent. Even if you didn’t have the accent, she had began to pick it up from Jonah and you found it too adorable.

“Did you- did you hear that? Did she really just say that?” Jonah questioned in a state of internal panic, already trying to figure out how to explain to you that your daughter had used such language, and with his approval too. “Where did you learn to speak like that, missy?” he asked asked her, but quickly tried to come up with something else to talk about when he saw you walk up to him. Not wanting to have to explain this to you in such a public setting.

Your toddler, however, had very different plans… again.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, a cute smile on her face as the photographers burst out laughing. You and Jonah looked at her in full-blown shock at the audacity of the normally shy girl.

“Y/D/N Y/D/M/N Y/L/N, where did you hear that?” you asked her sternly.

She didn’t look fazed at all, placing a hand on top of Jonah’s shaven head. “Daddy,” she answered and as you gave Jonah a scolding look he couldn’t help but smile widely.

“You taught her that kind of language?”

“She just called me ‘daddy’,” was all he said, the smile on his face only growing as he pressed a kiss against her cheek, his eyes watering from sheer happiness. “She called me daddy.”

[theladyofdeath]

Better or Worse {9}

Nessian. Angst. Modern au.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

Warnings: language.

“Shit, bud. Calm down.”

Nyx is flailing around recklessly in his booster seat, his seatbelt stuck. As soon as the words leave my mouth, he gasps.

“That’s naughty, uncle Cass,” he says, as I lean over him and rattle the seatbelt for a second, getting it unstuck and breaking him free. He hops out of the truck and I grab his backpack.

“What’s naughty?”

“Bad words.” He leads us into the kitchen from the garage and Greg instantly greets him. Nyx is the only human that Greg truly likes. “Hi, Greggy.”

“They’re only naughty if you say them,” I assure him, dropping his backpack onto the kitchen table.

“Aunt Nesta!” Nyx’s little voice rings through the house.

“She’s not home, buddy,” I say, throwing him over my shoulder and carrying him into the living room.

He repeatedly hits me in the back as he giggles. “Where is she?”

“Yoga,” I say, and Nyx repeats the word with confusion. “Exercising,” I simplify. “Aunt Elain dragged her to a yoga class to help her with her body aches from carrying your new cousin.”

“Does having a baby hurt, uncle Cass?”

“I don’t think it feels too good, bud.”

“How did Aunt Lainy get a baby in her belly?”

I drop Nyx on the couch and cross my arms, trying not to laugh at his curiosity. Answering that question is beyond my pay grade. “Ask your dad.”

“But—”

“Ask your dad.” 

He sighs. “Fine. I’m hungry.”

Of course he is. He’s always hungry. “Chicken nuggets or mac and cheese?” 

He frowns. “Why can’t I have both?”

Both it is. 

I may be a critically acclaimed chef, but even I can’t help but heed the call of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

“Uncle Cass?” Nyx asks, while I’m walking toward the kitchen.

“Hmm?”

“Why is your pillow on the couch?” His question makes me stop to look back at him. Sure enough, he has my pillow on his lap and is beating the shit out of it. “That’s a bed pillow. It goes on your bed.”

It should be on my bed.

For the last few nights, since our date, I’ve debated on going up to bed. Every night, I’m tempted, and every night I think that it’s the night I’m finally going to take that step, but Nesta has never mentioned it and she’s the one that said one of us should be sleeping on the couch once I came back home.

Things have been going so well between us that I’m scared I’m going to do something to ruin it, like climb into bed with her in the middle of the night when she doesn’t want me there. 

“I slept on the couch last night,” I say, slowly, “because aunt Nesta was snoring too loud.”

Nyx giggles and starts fake snoring loudly and obnoxiously. “Like that?”

“Exactly. She was keeping me awake.”

As I walk into the kitchen and get a pot out the cupboard, Nyx says, “Is sleeping on the couch comfy? You’re too big to sleep on the couch.”

I snort and the pain in my lower back seems to be agreeing with my nephew. I remember being twenty and able to sleep in whatever position, wherever, and not feeling a damn thing. Now, after sleeping on the narrow as fuck couch, I wake up every morning with aches and pains I didn’t think were possible after an eight hour sleep. 

Half an hour later, Nesta walks through the door as me and Nyx are downing chicken nuggets and macaroni, and she barely says hi before Nyx says, “Uncle Cass is too old and big to be sleeping on the couch, Aunt Nesta, so you need to stop snoring.”

Her eyes go wide and she looks from him to me and I hope she can still read my face as well as she used to. 

She turns back to our nephew, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow, and asks, “Is that why he said he was sleeping on the couch?”

“Yeah,” he replies, nodding animatedly. I’m fairly sure that the last bite he had was more ketchup than it was nugget, based on the amount on his face. “He said it was cause you were snoring like this.”

He then replicates his fake snore from earlier, embellishing his snorts just as well as he had before.

Her eyebrows raise and for a moment, I forget to breathe. Her jaw clenches and I think every bit of progress we’ve made is about to be gone in an instant.

But then her lips twitch.

I exhale, the relieved breath I’ve been holding whooshing out quietly as Nesta hums. “That’s funny, because I recall making him sleep on the couch because he was the one snoring.”

With the most dramatic of gasps, Nyx turns to face me. “You were the one snoring, Uncle Cass?”

My wince is fake, but he can’t tell that. “Only a little bit. Hers were louder.”

Scooping up a bite of macaroni, he says, “Mama snores, but daddy said I’m not allowed to say anything about it.”

I watch in wonderment as Nesta throws her head back and laughs. “Your mama does snore, and your daddy is very smart for keeping that to himself.”

Nyx grins as if he had just said the world’s best joke.

Nesta catches me watching her and her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. 

“How was yoga?”

“Good,” she says, setting her back down next to the island. “I haven’t done it in so long, but I feel amazing.” 

I’m about to say good, that I’m glad she had such a nice time, but then she reaches down to my plate and grabs a chicken nugget before popping it into her mouth. I gasp and turn to the toddler stuffing his face beside me. “Did she just steal one of my nuggets?”

Nyx shakes his head and says, “You better get her, Uncle Cass.” He shoves a spoonful of noodles into his mouth. “She needs to go to timeout.”

“Yeah,” I say, looking up at Nesta, who is smiling as she chews, looking ridiculously gorgeous and humored. “You. Time out. Now. Nose in the corner for five minutes.” 

That brow lifts, once more. “Is that a demand?”

Her voice has a sultry quality I haven’t heard in months.

“Hell yeah it is,” I murmur, and Nesta’s eyes brighten. Nyx is too busy stuffing his face to call me out for my curse or notice what’s happening. At least until I say my next words. “Unless you want to take us for ice cream instead.” 

Nyx’s spoon clatters onto his plate as he drops it to clap. “Ice cream! Ice cream!” 

Nesta pretends to think on it for a minute. “Finish everything on your plate, then I guess we can get ice cream.” 

Nyx jumps up in his chair with a celebratory screech before sitting back down to finish his dinner in record time. 

True to her word, after going to change out of her yoga clothes, Nesta returns a few minutes later, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a cardigan, with her hair pulled back off of her face. She grabs her purse off the counter and asks, “Ready to go?”

Nyx is up and heading for the garage before I can react, but even so, I’m glued in place.

She is so, so beautiful.

Turning for the back door, Nesta notices I haven’t moved. She glances back at me. “What?”

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I approach her, pausing in front of her. “Nothing, just…” I reach out and run my hand down the length of her sleek ponytail, tugging lightly when I reach the end. I don’t let myself notice the slight catch in her breath as I do so. “Appreciating how gorgeous you are.”

Her eyes, so often full of storms, are calm today and they soften, as she looks at me.

“Can I kiss you?” I whisper, still not wanting to push her past her comfort zone yet.

She nods, rising up on her toes and closes the distance between us before I even have the chance.

My hands cup her face, tilting her head just right so I can slant my mouth over hers. Her fingers are clinging to my shirt and I break the kiss before it can become anything our nephew shouldn’t see.

“Come on,” I say, lacing her fingers in mine and heading for the back door. “You promised ice cream and you’re going to have to deliver.”

One of my favorite things about having a nephew is having the ability to load him up on sugar and then give him back to my brother.

By the time we’re pulling into Rhys and Feyre’s driveway, Nyx is bouncing in his carseat, singing the national anthem of Velaris at the top of his lungs for the fifth time. Apparently he’s been practicing it at school, and I’m impressed considering he only messes up about half the words.

Nesta finds it hilarious.

I keep sneaking glances over at her as she laughs in the passenger seat. 

Rhys opens the door when I ring the doorbell and Nyx runs past him, into the house, giggling as he continues singing. He doesn’t even move, my brother, as his toddler runs through the house. He just sighs and looks at me. “Ice cream?”

“Blame Nesta.”

I think he’s about to scold me, but then he cocks his head. “You seem happy. Doing good?”

I nod, slowly. “Yeah. I am. We are, I think.”

Even through his exhaustion, he smiles. “Good.” From somewhere in the distance, there’s a crash. 

Then, Nyx yelling, “Daddy? Uh… I tried to get juice.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I have to mop up some juice,” Rhys says, clapping me on the shoulder before telling me he’ll call me later. 

When I make it back to the truck, Nesta’s watching me. “That’s going to be fun putting to bed.”

“Considering it’s already ten minutes past bedtime? Yeah, Rhys is going to be thanking us.”

She chuckles and gets comfortable as I back out of the driveway. The ride is quiet for a moment, nothing uncomfortable, but as I stop at a redlight I can feel her watching me. I turn to meet her gaze as the truck comes to a stop. “You alright?” She nods, but she’s sucking on her bottom lip. I frown. “Nes, we have to be honest with each other, if you’re not alright—”

“I’m fine,” she says, quietly. The light turns green. “I’ve just been thinking.”

The words leave her slowly and an uneasy feeling creeps into the pit of my stomach. “Okay. About what?”

“You,” she says, quietly. “Sleeping on the couch.” 

I shrug, doing my best not get my hopes up. “Not a big deal.”

“I disagree,” she says, turning in her seat to face me.

This is something I’ve noticed her doing for the past few weeks. She’s giving me her full attention, letting me know that I’m her priority right now.

“Nyx won’t say anything to Rhys and Feyre,” I promise her, assuming she’s worried about what her sister will say. “And even if he does, I’m sure they could guess I’ve been sleeping on the couch—”

“I don’t care what Rhys and Feyre think.” She cuts me off and I let her, snapping my mouth shut. “I don’t care what anyone else, save for Gwyn, thinks about what takes place in our marriage. I… I’ve been thinking you should come back to bed.”

“Tonight?” I ask, turning onto our street, glancing  over at her. I want to make sure she’s serious, that she’s not just saying this because she thinks it’s what she should do since Nyx found out.

“Tonight,” she agrees, then adds, “and tomorrow night, and the night after that, depending how things go.”

I pull into our driveway and into the garage, parking next to her car, but neither of us make a move to get out. My next question could damn me, but I can’t stop myself from asking.  “And how do you want things to go?” Immediately, Nesta’s back goes rigid and I reach out, taking her hand and smoothing my thumb over the back of it. “I’m not asking to have sex, Nes, I just want to know what exactly you’re expecting.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m… I don’t think I’m ready for that. Not yet.” Opening her eyes, she gives me a soft smile. “But I miss having you sleeping next to me. I miss falling asleep in your arms and waking up with you curled around me. I even miss your snoring.”

I feign being appalled. “My snoring?”

“Yeah, contrary to what you told our nephew, you’re the only one that snores in this relationship,” she says, laughing quietly. 

“What can I say?” I ask, quietly, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between us and kiss her. “I’m not perfect.”

She rolls her eyes and tells me to get out of the truck. We go inside and I grab my pillow off the couch after I lock up and make my way upstairs. 

When I enter, Nesta’s standing in her bra, pulling an old t-shirt out of her drawer. It takes me a second to realize I’m staring, then I look away, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sorry.”

She laughs, quietly. “It’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before, Cass.”

Taking that as permission, I look back up, but she’s pulled the t-shirt on. It’s one of mine, one I haven’t worn in years, one that she had claimed long ago. It’s long enough on her that when she starts shimmying out of her jeans, I don’t see anything, it’s all hidden. 

“True,” I say, because I’m not sure what else to say. To confess that it’s different now, that everything is different now, probably wouldn’t help the situation. I don’t want to start a fight right when I’m about to climb into my own damn bed for the first time in over a month. 

Her smile doesn’t fade as she goes into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. I pull off my shirt and search through my drawers for a clean pair of sweatpants, which I kick off my jeans to pull on. 

Greg hops onto the bed, the bell on his collar jingling merrily as he makes himself comfortable on Nesta’s pillow. As much as I love our cat, I’m not interested in having him squeezed between us like the furry toddler he is the first night I’m allowed back in my own bed.

Without a word, I round to her side of the bed, picking Greg up. He gives me an inquisitive trill as I carry him towards the bedroom door, which turns into a noise of outrage as I chuck him out into the hall and pull the door shut as he lands on his feet.

Nesta comes out of the bathroom, chuckling. “What was that?”

I turn around to make a snarky remark about Greg’s sass, but I come up short. 

In nothing but that damn old shirt, Nesta’s pulling her hair back into a ponytail. With her arms raised, the hem of the shirt slides up her thighs. I can’t help my eyes as they graze her body, can’t help how slowly they trail from her bare legs, to the curves of her breasts that I can make out through the thin fabric now that her bra has been long forgotten, up to her cleansed face, which I admire in all her natural beauty. 

Needing to get under a blanket before she sees just how much the sight of her is affecting me, I round to my side of the bed, my arm brushing hers as I pass her, and get beneath the comforter.

I watch her still as she goes to turn off the light, then she makes her way to her side of the bed and gets in.

There.

We’ve done it.

Hurdle crossed. 

Except now I want to throw my body on top of hers and rip off that t-shirt. But I don’t, because she told me she wasn’t ready, and I respect that. 

But she did say that she wants to be held.

When I turn to her, she’s already facing me, already watching me.

“This is nice,” she whispers.

“I feel like you’re too far away,” I whisper back.

She huffs a laugh as she comes closer to me, until her forehead is against my chest and her arm is sliding around my waist.

“Better?”

I pull her on top of me, and she melts right into me as she always had, her body knowing exactly where to go to get comfortable. Her cheek is against my shoulder and my arms stay around her, tightly, protectively. Her knee is just above my cock, which is too hard for me to be thinking straight, but I like that her leg is slung over me, so I close my eyes and think of sick puppies and death.

“Better now,” I say, quietly, and her hand, which is lying on my bare chest, starts moving, her fingers moving in lazy circles across my skin, tracing the ink there. 

“Better now,” she agrees, and kisses the base of my neck.

The simple touch has my skin feeling like it’s on fire, and I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. 

This feels good.

Right.

Torturous.

But right.

My arm is wrapped around her, tucking her against me, my hand pressed against her lower back. I can feel the heat of her skin through the thin t-shirt and I let my fingers move as indolently as hers do.

I don’t mean to, but before I know it, my fingers are skimming over the bare skin of her back, the thin fabric of the shirt bunched up.

“Sorry,” I mutter into the darkness, trying to smooth her shirt back down. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, Cass,” she whispers, breath skating over my skin. “Gwyn said physical touch was good.”

Yeah, she did, but my dick is so hard and I’m wound so tight that if Nesta all but touches it, I’m going to blow.

Dead puppies. Well done steak. Naked grandmothers.

I repeat the mantra in my head until all the blood in my body isn’t being redirected south and I can breathe without feeling like my skin is stretched too tight.

When I glance down at Nesta, I find that she’s already looking at me, a smirk on her beautiful face. “You good?”

That smirk makes me want to roll on top of her, claim that wicked mouth in a kiss that I’d trail down her body until I reached the hem of my old shirt, tugging it up to reveal—

Closing my eyes, I drag my free hand down my face. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Her soft laughter ruffles my hair and she presses another kiss to my skin, just above my collarbone. “Go to sleep.”

With another deep breath, I pull her closer against me and settle into the pillows, listening as her breathing evens out.

When I’m sure she’s well and truly asleep, I press my lips to her forehead, breathing in her honey and lilac scent, and whisper, “Goodnight, Nesta. I love you.”

I swear her body relaxes further in my arms.