#but they’re still just so uncomfortable I hate this 😭

[chebyshevptera]

What do you think about Jaya dynamic in this season?

ok. honestly? i liked it…….

i’m a sucker for jaya and they’re acting exactly like I thought they would. jay being reluctant to receive help and companionship, and nya butting heads with him and being stubborn and not taking no for an answer, and jay caving because wow this lady is so annoying, there’s no point in arguing with her ? Yeah that’s them to me

yeah yeah, I know, the “i will always hate you” stuff floating around, maybe it’s weird to see jay behaving like this with nya, but I don’t mind it. they could play around with it in part 2, for all we know , but even if they don’t, idk, that makes sense to me? his eyes turned red in that moment, it was probably the influence of shatterspin lol

and it’s not like Jay has warmed up to her. he “let her” help him down the stairs, but then in the next scene, we see that he’s walking on his own with nya close by. I have a feeling he pushed her off when she finally would let him go . he’s only at the monastery because he needs treatment , he wouldn’t have gone with them willingly otherwise. he doesn’t LIKE the ninja, doesn’t ask them permission from stuff, he avoids them, says rude things to them. He probably tones it down with Nya cuz… she’s Nya. She already punched him once, he’s probably not looking to get punched again

I liked their bickering too. the “why do you wanna help me?” / “because I know who you are, you big dummy” is just…. Ohhh it’s so perfect. Literally exactly how I thought they would act. Nya isn’t taking nonsense from Jay because she knows him, he’s not some big tough mercenary with a cold heart, he’s just a guy with a lot of feelings that are pretty hurt right now 😭

but also, important to remember, Jay still retains a lot of his interests, even if he doesn’t have the memories that relate to them. You don’t have to remember stuff to have emotional reactions to certain things . there’s probably something about her that makes him feel warm and fuzzy, even if it’s underneath anger and frustration. after all, he still loves video games, he’s been inventing… and he’s still got that perpetually uncomfortable demeanor 😭

but yeah. idk. I should wait until p2 to say more about them, but so far, I LOVE them so much… Jaya you will always be real to me

[crybaby-bkg]

I’m having my surgery next week and I’m so frustrated bc I know I’ll be down for a few weeks but I wanna finish that choso fic, finish the book I’m reading, do my makeup, and paint stsg on a pair of jeans I just got and I feel like I don’t have enough time 😭😭😭😭 and it’s the first day of my period and I can’t use any pain meds since it’ll interfere with the anesthesia 🙃🙃

[swtt4hk]

All because of me || Cho Sang-woo x fem!Reader (oneshot) SMUT!!

suggested by: anonymous!

author’s note: if I didn’t make it clear in the title THIS IS SMUTTY! so if you feel uncomfortable with sexual content please do NOT read this fic! Also this is my first smut ever so if it’s poorly written, I apologise but I’m only used to reading smut not writing 😭 anyway enjoy!

player 218. The moment you laid eyes on him on the first game , red light green light , you knew you hated him. He looked like one of those people who you just look at their face and you know that they’re not likeable. Yes , he was attractive, but for you it’s not enough to like someone.

Unfortunately, for both of you , you guys were on the same team. He was player’s 456 , or Gi Hun’s , childhood best friend and , as he called him , the pride of the neighbourhood. He really did look like someone sophisticated and smart but it still wasn’t enough for you to like him. The way he looked at you or the way he talked to you in a different manner than the others made your blood boil. He always had something to say , a comment to make , especially when you made a suggestion or a guess about what the next game was gonna be.

—what if they make us play ddakji again?

—no , they can’t do that. We’ve basically already played the game before and the one’s who got in here are the one’s who won the game so no one’s gonna die because we’re technically all good at ddakji.

He’s right. But you can’t possibly accept that he’s right , you can’t boost his ego. Your hands turn into fists , your knuckles turning white , as you click your tongue , letting out a “ts” , and look away in frustration. Sang-woo can’t help but let out a slight smirk at your frustration knowing that you know that he’s right.

player 218 or Sang-woo didn’t like you either. But it was a complete different reason for him. The moment he looked at you for the first time , he felt like falling in love. He had never seen such a beautiful woman before. But Sang-woo has a really bad drawback. He’s a cold person , which means he doesn’t let his true feelings out and always lets his ego control him. His feelings for you slowly turned into hate for you but deep down he knew he needed you. He had never felt so needy for a woman before. He loved your strong personality and how you always spoke your mind and wasn’t afraid to do anything. He knew that if you told him to get down on his knees , he would do it , no matter how much he “hates” you.

Your other teammates always thought there was something up with you and Sang-woo but didn’t mention it. Everytime you fought with Sang-woo , they would look at each other with a smirk and you would both scold them about it. You both hated the idea of even looking at each other.

The guards come in , guiding you to the next game’s area. You get into teams of ten people and of course the team you’re in involves Sang-woo too. You hated the fact that you were in the same team as him but he had potential and you knew he would help you and your team win.

and he really did. He was the one to come up with a plan the last minute , just when you were about to die. You’re now returning to the main room , all sweaty sitting on the bunk beds quietly after what you just experienced. Player 212 , one of your new teammates walks up to Sang-woo with a smirk.

—wow player 218 , you’re so smart and your idea was so good! You know , I really like smart guys…

For some reason , a pang of anger and jealousy fills your heart but ignore it completely just like it never happened. Sang-woo coldly nods at her and then looks away , showing no interest in what player 212 just said. Instead , he looks at you , dead in the eye , feeling the unspoken tension between you two. You didn’t know if he was eye-fucking you or looking at you with hate but you liked it. You wanted him to look at you. You needed his full attention on you. You couldn’t lie to yourself after all , no matter how much you “hated” him.

The guards come in again , announcing the amount if money increased and then telling you to get into lines to get your lunch. Just when you get up , you feel a strong hand gripping your arm and stopping you from moving.

—you’re seriously not even gonna thank me for saving your miserable life? Hah , how selfish.

When you hear those words , you try to control yourself to not beat him up or at least shout at him and confront him. You take a deep breath and turn around to look at him with a sarcastic smile.

—being a team and being friends is different. you’re not my friend which means I don’t have to thank you for anything. The fact that we’re in the same team and you happened to come up with a plan last minute does not mean you’re the one who saved my life. I could’ve made it in any other team just like I made it in this one. It’s all just a coincidence.

Sang-woo does not respond. He looks around and quickly drags you into the bathrooms and backs you against the wall , gripping your arms tightly so you don’t try to escape. He looks at you with a dark gaze in his eyes , his lips parted , as he’s about to speak.

—are you serious right now? I’ve accepted your bratty behaviour for so long but this is unacceptable. You could’ve died back there and I was the one who saved you. Cut this shit out , you couldn’t have made it without me or in any other team. You need me. So you better say thank you for saving your little insignificant miserable life or you’ll have to face the consequences of being a bitch.

You let out a sarcastic laugh and he looks at you with confusion. He thought he would scare you but definitely failed to.

—you really think I’m scared or hurt right now? I didn’t die back there because it wasn’t my time to die and don’t owe it to anyone. You saved your life not mine. Stop trying to be a smartass all the time and thinking you are special. You think you’re so special? Look at you. You’re here wearing the same uniform as me and all the other players. You’re just as miserable. So stop being an egoistic idiot and think before you speak.

You’re right and he knows it but doesn’t give up. Your bratty attitude makes his blood boil and his grip on your arms tightens.

—you think you’re so smart , huh? Do you want me to show you who the smart one is in here ,hm?

He says and comes closer to you , feeling the heart in his body against yours. His body pressed against yours makes you weak and needy for him but you try to play tough.

—I dare you.

You say , knowing the consequences of your action. There’s no going back now. With one move , his hands go to your waist , lifting you up and placing you on a sink , your head resting on the mirror behind you.

—you’re such a needy slut. Knowing that you’ll get fucked by your rival but still acting bratty. Fuck , you’re making my blood boil so much , I wanna hear you screaming my name until your throat goes numb.

He whispers to yours ear as his hands slide down to your hips , pressing you harder on the sink. His words are making so you wet , you’re trying so hard to hold back a moan. Sang-woo looks at you with a smirk , his body pressing harder against you.

—cat got your tongue? You’re so desperate to get fucked , huh?

his hands go to the waistband of your pants , sliding them down with one movement and pressing his thumb on your already wet underwear.

—so fucking wet for me already…

He mutters to himself but still audible to you. He rubs his thumb on your clothed pussy and you can’t help it anymore , moans slip out of your mouth without realising it.

—fuck , I fucking hate you

You moan and Sang-woo chuckles

—doesn’t seem like it…

He says with a wide smirk on his face and lifts you up again and gently places you on the floor. He quickly removes his clothes and before you know it , his hard cock is inside you , hitting immediately just right where you like it. Your moans get louder as his pace gets faster and faster.

—look at you , so desperate for me…if you were dead who would be fucking you like this , huh? You’re alive because of me , just fucking admit it.

you respond with a loud moan. You can’t even form a normal sentence, he’s fucking you so good , you’ve never felt like this before. The way he’s touching you just where you want it , it’s like he already knows your body so well.

He gets rougher and faster , making your eyes tear up and your moans turn into screams.

—fuck , I’m gonna cum

He groans , as he holds onto your hips for dear life. You keep screaming and moaning his name not caring if anyone outside hears you. The time has finally come , he moans , his pace slowing down as he fills you up. You both catch your breath , your bodies are sweaty and his hands are caressing your torso as he’s trying to come down from his high. He slips his cock out of your pussy and bends down , filling your neck with hot kisses.

—what do you say now , hm? Changed your mind?

you close your eyes , enjoying his hot kisses on your neck as you finally calm down. You know that he’s right , you knew it all along but who agrees with their enemy? Your hand reaches his head , caressing his hear and you respond in a low and soft tone.

—thank you Sang-woo…

you can feel his smirk while kissing you and he caresses your sides , softer this time as he’s finally heard what he wanted to hear.

outside of the bathroom , everyone is shocked to hear screams and moans from the bathroom , wondering who it is except for your team. They know exactly who it is and they’re not surprised. But later you guys will have to deal with their teasing and the funny looks they will give you.

———————————————————————

The endddd! Thank you so much for reading and a speacial thanks to the person who suggested it! I hope I reached your expectations and if I misunderstood your suggestion please correct me! Anyway , more fics coming soon!💞

[trippinsorrows]

through your eyes + au future

a/n: well, here i am, once again, with some smut for the hoes. 😭

masterlist

words: 2.7k // warnings: roman gets jealous and reminds solana who she belongs to. smuttttt. daddy kink. roman being mean.

The car ride is absolutely silent. The only sound coming from the auditory, muffled noises of city sounds that sneak past the closed windows and serve as a light backdrop against the void of conversation. 

Solana glances over at Roman and nearly melts into the seat. His knuckles are practically white with how tight he’s gripping the steering wheel. His chiseled, bearded jaw is clenched just as tight, and the tension—and anger—is radiating off of him.

He’s livid.

“Roman, I—”

“Shut up.”

And like a child who’s just been scolded for bad behavior, Solana does just that. She knows this tone of voice. Has seen it used with others, but never on her. Not until this moment. And it sucks. 

But, it’s also….also something else.

It’s annoying.

She’s annoyed. 

Roman has more or less ignored her for almost a week, and now wants to be upset with her? She gets why, but still. Maybe if he was around and actually had time for her, she never would have ended up in this mess in the first place.

It’s immature reasoning, almost. She recognizes this. But, it’s just how she feels.

And it’s better and easier for her to feel and think about that vs just how damn good Roman looks right now, even if he is at level 10. He still looks good. Too good.

Roman remains silent for the duration of the ride as Solana focuses on the passing scenery vs the man next to her who has her thinking inappropriate thoughts given the situation they’re in.

And when they pull into the private parking garage of his penthouse, she’s barely able to unbuckle her seatbelt before Roman angrily opens his door and slams it shut with so much force that she winces. But before that can even be processed, he’s ripping her door open as well and yanking her out the car. 

His grip on her forearm is firm, borderline uncomfortable. “Roman, you’re—”

“I said shut up.”

It’s the same tone as before, but instead of feeling embarrassed like before, she only gets more annoyed as he practically drags her into his place, Solana praying she doesn’t twist her ankle having to walk so fast in her heels. 

She manages to stay quiet until they’re in the privacy of Roman’s penthouse as he once again slams the door shut with unnecessary force. 

Kicking off her heels almost immediately, she heads for his kitchen, needing a bottle of water. “You don’t have to be such a dick,” she mutters. Somewhat to herself. Somewhat to him. Solana opens the fridge and grabs a cold thing of water, barely standing back up before the door is forced shut with an intensity that makes her jump away, her ass hitting the counter and bottle tumbling into the floor. 

“What—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

Roman is standing before her, eyes burning with all the anger coursing through his big body, his tone comprised of unadulterated anger, voice bouncing off the walls. 

Solana isn’t sure just how to respond. Nothing she says is going to make him feel better. It’s a lose–lose situation. “You need to calm—”

He smiles, but there’s not an ounce of humor in his expression or voice. Eyes closed, he tilts his head back, warning almost, “I swear to God, if this wasn’t you….” He trails off, and she’s not sure she wants to know the rest of the statement. “What the fuck were you thinking, Solana?”

Again, that chastised child feeling returns as she shrugs, murmuring, “it was just a party—”

Roman reaches past her and swipes his arm clean across the counter behind her, sending random shit flying to the floor. 

“It wasn’t just a fucking party!” He snaps, and she leans further back into the fridge, hating how her eyes seem to be focused not on the fact that he’s yelling at her but how good he looks despite the anger, how good he smells being this close to her. God, she missed that. Missed him. Not this, obviously. But, everything else….yeah. “You were at fucking Kingdom, Solana. You know that’s Nightmare territory!”

Solana knew that. Knew it the moment Jaida brought up the idea of attending a costume party at some club. She recognized right away from the name alone that not only was it in Nightmare territory but that it was owned by Cody Rhodes himself. None of that was or is news to her. 

And yet, she still pulled out her skimpy little costume and went outside, shaking and throwing ass on video with her cousin like she wasn’t playing with an absolute inferno.

An inferno she’s completely engulfed in right now. “I didn’t think—”

“Of course, you didn’t fucking think because if you did, you wouldn’t have been stupid enough to put yourself in that situation—”

“I made a mistake, Roman, okay?” She cuts him off, taking the opportunity to jump in given the fact that his volume has decreased ever so slightly. “I—”

“And then what the fuck is this outfit?” He motions to her costume, and Solana finds herself frowning. 

“What—what’s wrong with it?” It’s a stupid question, maybe even a form of gaslighting, because she knows exactly why he takes issue with the outfit that practically has her ass hanging out and her cleavage on full display.

To his credit, Roman maintains the lowered volume, gritting out. “It brings attention to you. To your body.” She watches the way his muscles flex as he brings his arm above her, hand planted on the refrigerator. “Why do you think Rhodes came up to you, huh? Cause he liked your fuckin’ hair?”

Solana is feeling way too bold for someone in the wrong as she rolls her eyes, looks down at her feet, toes painted white, and murmurs, “at least someone’s giving me attention.”

It’s the absolute worst thing she could have said in this moment. If this was the titanic, her freudian slip was the absolute mega fucking iceberg. She knows it the second Roman’s volume levels down to dangerously quiet with the delivery of his next question.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Looking away, she barely has time to process the severity of her slip-up when his hand jerks her by her chin, forcing her gaze back on him. “I asked you a question.”

If there was ever a time for an apology tour, this would be it. The time to get on her hands and knees and beg for much needed forgiveness, but that’s logic, that’s reason, that’s sensical. And there’s nothing logical or sensical about the way she’s feeling right now. Roman being so close to her is no good. It’s no good for a lot of reasons, because instead of being present for this very serious conversation, she’s thinking about the last time he’s been just mere inches away from her. The last time he’s been inside of her.

Too long.

It’s why she finds herself answering straight from her Id. “I said at least he noticed me.” Solana digs that grave just a lil deeper, adding. “You’ve—you’ve been back a week and haven’t come to see me.”

Saying it aloud is the recognition and acknowledgment of the uncomfortable truth Solana now realizes is the basis behind all of this. She’s never been one to need attention from men, to feel the need to be around her significant other more often than not. 

And then entered Roman Reigns. Everything about their relationship has been so fast and new and unexpected and raw. She craves him in a way she’s never experienced with any other man.

Not even Cruz.

Because Roman has been traveling a lot the past few weeks, his latest trip to Italy to handle some Cosa Nostra matters and yet, he hasn’t carved out the time to come see her in the almost week he’s been back. Something that’s evidently been bothering her.

And that recognition clearly isn’t something that’s just now become apparent to her. 

It’s clear to Roman as well too. 

Because in a matter of seconds she goes from peering up at him with those big brown eyes of hers to being spun around and pressed into the cool stainless steel of his fridge. “What—”

“Shut up.” 

This is the third time he’s said as such to her tonight, and on this tres time, she’s had just about enough. “Stop—”

Solana is silenced and cries out when his hand comes down, hard, on her ass. 

“I said shut up,” he reiterates, adding on as he palms her cheeks. “Daddy’s talking.” That should not make her moan the way it does, especially when he moves his mouth to her ear. “How many times do I have to fucking tell you?” She gasps when he spanks her ass once again, squeezing it this time in a way that has her biting down on her bottom lip. “You belong to me. Not him. Me.”

Solana feels her anticipation—and pussy growing wetter—as Roman starts trying to yank her shorts off. “I’ll kill him. Fucking rip him apart with my bare hands.” She winces when he gets the shorts off, somehow managing to rip them clean off her body. “Start a whole war. I don’t care.” Her soaked underwear, big surprise there, is the next thing to go. Solana would give anything to see the look on Roman’s face as he brings his hand to her cunt, cupping it, feeling her drenched and dripping. “Look how wet you are from me. How I got this pussy dripping just from my voice.” Roman tugs her head back and kisses the perimeter of her face. “You think that bleached bitch could do you like I can?” The answer is already no, but it’s a hell no when she feels his erection pressed against her ass. “No. No one can fuck you like daddy can.”

He’s not lying, and Solana finds the excitement building in hearing some shuffling behind her, a belt unbuckling, clothes shifting. And she nearly comes right then and there feeling his thick dick head rub up and down her slit. 

He’s teasing her, and it’s miserable. Solana tries to scoot her ass back against him, not beyond begging, “p–please.”

Roman chuckles against her ear, hissing when he teases the tip of his dick in her tight, gushy opening. “Please what?”

He’s so cruel. So so so cruel. “P-please, daddy.”

“That’s my good girl.”

Solana shouts when he slams into her, the intensity and stretch of him having her claw the cool steel in front of her. His thrusts are hard and deep, nothing slow and gentle like she expected their first time to be after so long. Something she was hoping for given his size, but that’s not what she gets.

Not when she’s been so bad.

And truthfully….it’s not what she wants. Not now, at least. Not when he’s fucking her like this, so rough and thorough. It’s delicious.

Solana’s moans grow louder with each time he slams his hips up against her fat ass, fucking her like the little brat she’s been. 

“You like making daddy angry like this, don’t you?” Solana whimpers as the force of his thrusts continue to push the side of her face into the fridge, her makeup smudging off from the combination of the light sheen of sweat and the impact. “Like me fucking you like this, huh?”

“Y–yes, daddy.” Tears are building in her eyes when Roman somehow pulls her body against his, his thick dick never once slipping out as he switches their positions so that she’s bent over his kitchen island, face now pressed into the granite counter while he slams into her. “Roman!”

“You was missing this dick, wasn’t you?” He taunts, hand on the back of her head, holding her still as he reminds her who she belongs to. “This what you been wanting? Daddy to pound this little pussy with his big dick?”

Her palms are pushed into the stone, her mind absolutely numb and illogical as he switches his angle, somehow even deeper in her. “Oh, shit. Y–yes, baby.”

Roman leans over her, and she’s practically sobbing at this point. He’s slamming nearly repeatedly against her g-spot, driving her to the brink of sexual madness. “Been missing you too, baby.” He groans, slowing down just a bit to kiss on the side of her face. “Fuck, you don’t know how much I missed you while I was gone. Missed being inside you like this.” Roman straightens up and spreads her ass cheeks a bit, moaning at the sight of his dick sliding in and out of her wet ass pussy. Doesn’t matter how many times he stretches her out, her shit grips him the same every time. Tight and needy. “Goddamn, look how wet you are. Shit dripping on the damn floor.”

That visual shouldn’t make her cunt pulse the way it does, the two of them moaning almost in synchronization. “Daddy’s sorry for leaving you like this.”

His verbal apology is appreciated, but his dick absolutely destroying her used and abused pussy is all the contrition she needs. 

Roman grabs her by her hair once again and leans over, resuming his relentless and brutal assault against her spot, that depth and angle having her seeing stars, angels, and everything else ethereal and heavenly. “You’re mine. You understand me?” He growls, voice dark and determined. Solana both hates and loves this. Loves how he can so easily slide back and forth between being almost loving to that possessive, borderline obsessive side that she secretly gets off to. “You ain’t ever leaving me. It’s us till the end, baby.”

Truer words have never been spoken. 

As is with most sexual encounters between them, Solana’s orgasm is the first to come upon her. That wonderfully blissful, euphoric feeling that never could and will never get old. She moans against the counter, whimpering, “Roman, I’m—oh my God.” It should be a sin how good he fucks her, how good he makes her feel, sexually and in every other way. 

He’s most definitely right.

It’s them to the end.

Roman is knowing, feeling the way she’s starting to clench around him. “You gon’ let me come inside you?” He asks, already knowing the answer. The same as it always is. 

“Y–yes, daddy.” 

He slaps her ass. “Damn right.” Plunging into her at that altered pace to account for her pending climax, he reminds. “Daddy always comes inside his pussy.”

Another truth that she can’t and won’t deny. Another secret love. Kink, even. The feel of him exploding inside her, filling her to the brim with his cum. It just does something to her. Something she can’t explain.

And that’s the exact same experience she has when their orgasms arrive upon them both with merely minutes apart. She’s the first, of course, followed by Roman. His body is hovered above hers, his mouth pressing kisses against her temple as they both come down from that delicious high.

Well, he does, because Solana groans a bit when he slides out of her and picks her up bridal style, carrying her to his room. Roman carefully lays her on the bed, completely uncaring of the mess she’s made all over his dick or the fact that her entire bottom half is soaked, his cum leaking from her puffy pussy. 

He lays down next to her, pulling her close to him. 

Solana sighs, so content in this single moment. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs into his chest, finger lazily tracing some of the patterns of his tribal tattoos. 

Roman kisses her forehead. “I just need you to be more careful, alright?” She nods against him. “I can’t ever lose you, Solana…”

“I know, baby.” She kisses his shoulder. “I will.” Eyes closing, they lay in absolute silence for a good few minutes. Her eyes start to flutter shut, Solana prepared to drift off into a peaceful sleep when Roman’s deep voice cuts into the silence.

“You don’t think we done, do you?” Looking up with all the confusion, she watches as he shifts them so that she’s no longer laying on his chest but just on her side. Roman sits up against the headboard. “You wanted daddy’s attention. Well, now you got it.” Her mouth waters as he starts stroking his still semi hard dick. This man is inhuman sometimes with his stamina. “Take the rest of them clothes off, get up here, and throw that fat ass back on daddy’s dick like you was doing in them videos.”

[diorgirl444]

seven minutes of hell or dallas winston and his soc! rival are stuck playing seven minutes of heaven together

warnings: bad writing! (girlies i’ve never kissed anyone or flirted so my expression only comes from writing fanfiction so it may not be the most realistic i’m afraid), fem! reader, very self indulgent, i’m also aware that realistically socs and greasers probably wouldn’t be round the curtis brothers house together but like if you wanted realism you wouldn’t be be reading dallas winston fanfiction would you considering he’s canonically dead lol 😭, weak ending, 903 words <3

you’re going to strangle Cherry Valance after this. when she invited you and your other friends out for the evening not once did she think to mention that you were going to that side of town…

not that you have anything wrong with the Curtis brothers, they’re all lovely and very nice-looking. nor do you have a problem with any of their other friends who despite what you might think are all very sweet apart from the insufferable Dallas Winston. and you suppose it makes sense because if she had said that he was going then you would have spent another night reading shitty romance books alone in your bedroom. but still, there is no one you can’t stand more than Dallas Winston. he’s snarky and callous and violent - and beautiful.

yes, you’re not blind even you can recognize that he’s exactly your type but he pushed your buttons like nothing else with the way he patronizingly calls you “princess” and takes every opportunity to drive you absolutely up the wall. you two bicker like night and day whenever you cross paths so you honestly don’t know what Cherry was thinking. and despite that, you assumed it couldn’t get any worse. what could be worse than a party with the boy who makes you red in the face and with a desperate urge to wrap your arms around his neck and - let's not go there?

well, you were wrong anyway it can get worse and it did. because as Daryl’s taking Ponyboy to bed some wise guy (two-bit) suggests that the rest of you play seven minutes of heaven. it is quite possibly the most juvenile thing you’ve ever done and you and every intention of sitting out till surprise, surprise Dallas makes a snarky comment.

“what too good to kiss a greaser is that it princess?”

you flush angrily clearly the fact that you’re at this stupid get-together should prove that you don’t harbour any of that foolish class nonsense. you roll your eyes as you take a seat. fine, you’ll play one stupid round of this silly game you think as you spin the bottle hoping to get it over and done with. with any luck, you’ll get Johnny or something who won’t want to do anything but talk.

but no that would just be so easy so instead the Coca-Cola bottle reaches its final spot right in front of the worst person it could ever be. even he has the decency to look embarrassed with the tips of his ears tinging themselves red and taking a long swig of his beer.

“I can spin again” you shrug awkwardly not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“you can’t cheat the bottle girly” he tells you as he sets his drink down and stands up expecting you to follow after him. you can feel everyone’s gaze on your neck as you silently walk into the small cupboard with him. you hear the click of the lock and you're plunged into total darkness. your back presses up against the wall and his tall frame awkwardly clashes against yours. you can hear him muttering various expletives under his breath. god, you’re not that bad surely. the silence is loud and awkward. you swallow heavily before speaking.

“Why do you hate me?” you ask softly before you think it through. cheeks flushing so you’re grateful for the dark.

he scoffs “You think I hate you…” he says it as if it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

you feel insecure as you speak again, voice small and weak as you try to explain why. “well like you call me stupid things and you make fun of me and-“

he interrupts you before you continue “I call you princess 'cause you remind me of one. I wind you up because it means you look at me and you get this cute little flush on your cheeks. I don’t hate you and man I hate all that sappy stuff but I do seriously like you doll”

“wow” is all you can manage, taking in what he’s saying.

”you know this is the point where you say that you like me too sweetheart” he teases you but you’re sure theres a small twinge of insecurity in his voice and you haven’t heard a more wonderful thing in your life. he likes you.

you kiss him of course. you pull him down by the collar of his leather jacket and press your lips against his and it’s perfect. his hands wrap around your waist and he tastes like the beer and it’s perfect. you want to stay like that forever. you can hear the beach boys playing on the record play in the other room and idly you wonder why it sounds like it’s getting louder and why the room seems to have gotten brighter.

”seven minutes is up lovebirds” you hear Soda’s teasing voice ring out.

immediately you jump out of Dallas's grip like you’ve been burnt.

all your friends are gathered by the doors and are watching as Two-bit hands a dollar over to Cherry who is saying “told you they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off each other”

before you can say anything else Dallas snaps at them that the games are over and he shuts the door plunging you into two obscurity again as he pulls you in.

“eager are we?” you say laughing against his lips.

“very” he says faux seriously before kissing you again.

you decide that you’re eager too.

hope you like it! xoxo, flo <3

[awrkive]

OOOOH this event sounds so fun, could I have angst #21 (the bl*od one) with JK please? Low-key I’m thinking of like a royal vibe where like they’re both royals but enemies but it’s up to you Dee whatever you write I will gladly eat up 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

callofthegreen asked: Angst+21+ Jungkook (I'm a sucker for angst, and you always make it hurt so good, love you 💗)

21. "Is that... blood? Please tell me it isn't blood."

note: you said royals and i immediately thought... fantasy 🤓🤓 man idk the setting is very much inspired by mlbb universe 😭 this is kinda erm but hope you both enjoy i tried my best! 😭

wc: 1.8k (boo i know sorry)

You try to conceal the uncomfortable gnawing at your thigh – but the trek to the steep of the mountain was getting too much to bear, and every passing second is starting to feel like suicide. 

Subtly looking to the side, you observe Jungkook stands just fine. He has cuts all over his face from the attack of the common creeps back at the jungle, but he generally looks okay overall. Meanwhile, you still haven’t told him a horned lizard got you good and sliced quite deeply at your thigh when you made the mistake of kicking at the wrong time. 

It hurts like hell. Jungkook has been offering to stop by at few spots whenever he hears you inhale a sharp breath, probably assuming your discomfort about the length of the walk, but you couldn’t have it in you for him to think that you aren’t built for this. 

He’s spent the entirety of your childhood mocking you for your poor archery skills, laughing with his older cousins about how you couldn’t even pick up a sword the right way. He bitched and moaned about his status to be prince – completely wanting to be a warrior instead, and as a result insulted you for acquiescing to your royal responsibility of being princess. 

You hate him for many things. Hate him for how he affected you all those years, hate him for making you cry on the night of your 13th birthday, hate him for the fact that your father liked him more than you, and hate how he goes through life like it’s his stage and he’s the main character who never dies. 

Right now, Jungkook isn’t like the scrawny kid who used to pick on you for a hobby, second to perfecting his sports – he’s now a twenty-seven-year-old responsible king who had strategically led the movement of winning the impending war. 

But that doesn’t magically erase all the animosity you have towards him. 

You hate that you’re betrothed to him, hate that you knew that even before your father and your mother broke the news to you at the ripe age of 18. Hate that both your kingdoms are to form an alliance to battle the current rise of rebellion from the west. But after you lost your parents from the war that transpired two years ago, it had to be done. 

Jungkook may not be the same old guy who made half your life miserable – but you know that underneath his composure and the respectable manner in which he presents himself with now is nothing but a mere facade. 

Frankly, you do not trust him. You do not trust his plans. You do not support the war and everything that he and his council stands for. 

You don't want to be by his side when you're proven right.

And the last thing you'd want to be in front of Jungkook is weak. 

But a goddamn rock had made you trip on your own way, and you couldn’t help the shriek that escapes your mouth when you drop on the ground. 

“Fuck–” you pull your wounded thigh up, automatically wrapping your hand around the area and squeezing to manage the throbbing pain. “Shit.” You hiss when you see red your trousers, panicking internally. 

“What the hell– is that blood?” Jungkook drops his bladric on the ground and immediately goes to you, eyes widening at the sight of your thigh. “Please tell me it isn’t blood.” 

“Don’t touch me!” You say when Jungkook hovers over your thigh. He recoils, and you know he didn't expect that much hostility – given that you’ve been quiet for the entirety of the trek, and even though you haven’t exactly been welcoming to him for the past month of the expedition you both coincidentally sneaked yourselves into, you’ve been civil. 

Jungkook pulls back, one knee bent on the layer of dirt on the ground, hands surrendering up as if to reassure you he wasn’t going to do something you wouldn’t like. 

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m fine.” 

“You’re not.” Jungkook retorts, eyes trailing to the growing spot of blood on the fabric of your trousers. It’s getting more painful by the second –  and you want nothing but to scream about how it fucking stings. “Jesus christ, __, just let me help. That’s a damn big wound you’ve got there.” 

“I’m fine–” you insist, but it’s broken by a sharp intake of breath as another twinge comes up. you wince. “I just need– I just need some fabric. Tie it around the wound.” You manage to say, distressed. Both physically and emotionally. 

“We need to– I need to clean you up,” Jungkook says and maybe it’s your eyes playing jedi games on you but for once, he actually looks genuine to you. As if he actually cares. 

You scoff. “I can do that myself.” 

You don’t expect the way Jungkook snaps. 

“For once, can you stop being stubborn? You can barely breathe properly, __. You can say and think what you want and hate me again after this but just let me take care of you this one time. I’m going to clean your wound and make sure you’re not gonna bleed yourself to death by the time we arrive at the port.” Jungkook looks into your eyes and they feel almost… earnest. Like he wants you to really listen to him. He closes and opens his mouth as if wanting to say something. You wait for it, then for a few seconds it doesn’t come, until... “I’m not out to get you, __.” 

I’m not out to get you. It’s a simple sentence with a simple message. One that you should understand right away. 

But you don't.

You avoid his eyes when you only say, “I don’t trust you.” 

What you don’t expect is his quick answer.

“I know.” 

He crosses the distance between you once again, and you watch as he hesitantly hovers his hand over your thigh again. He looks for your face, silent – but his eyes scream for permission. You don’t give it verbally; too tired to speak, too consumed by the pain in your leg to voice out any more complaints lodged in your throat. 

When Jungkook initially places his hand on your leg, you don’t flinch. And it’s a surprise. Surprise because you expected his touch to burn you like how Icarus did when he flew too close to the sun, but instead it felt like winter night. Cold, but strangely warm. 

When you don’t say anything, he halts.

“Can I?” He asks. Leveled. Waiting. Always waiting. Almost gentle…

You purse your lips when you nod your head. 

Jungkook brings forward his satchel where he takes out a small knife, and there’s nothing but the gentle breeze of the wind and songs of the birds surrounding you at this part of the mountain when Jungkook begins cutting throught the fabric of your pants, effectively revealing the – admittedly – ghastly cut on your bare thigh. 

“Jesus,” Jungkook looks at you, eyebrows creased. “When did you get this? It can’t be from the fall.” 

“I–” you clear your throat and look away, ashamed to be admitting this now. “The horned lizard got me back at jungle.”

Jungkook looks like he wanted to say something but for god knows what, he keeps it to himself.

You watch quietly as he takes out a flask, twisting open the cap and looks at you before pouring over the water on the wound. 

When you hiss in pain, Jungkook immediately stops. 

“Are–” 

“I’m fine– it’s okay,” you assure him, biting your lip, glancing down at your wound. It would be hard to walk further carrying this with you. 

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook says. You assume it’s for his previous action, but you don’t exactly know how that guaranteed an apology.

You ignore it and he continues tending to the wound, relieved that he’s got some clean scraps of fabric in his bag – a quick aid kit, perhaps – to tap your wound with, and when he asks you to leverage his shoulder for a little bit so he can lift your thigh up a little in order to wrap the fabric around your thigh, your breath hitch at the proximity. 

Even though you and Jungkook are bethroted, you never really shared any moments where you’re required to be as close like this. The banquets are public appearances that only needed you and him to sit beside each other and smile and laugh at the visitors so they think you’re a good pair, but once the doors are closed, one becomes a stranger to another. 

But this… this feels different. It’s… intimate, in a way. 

When you said that his touch didn’t burn, it felt a little more different when you feel his skin touch yours. There’s a little spark to it – fleeting, quick. And you swear he lingers for longer than necessary when he finishes tending to the wound. 

It makes you confused.

“I wish you told me sooner.” Is what Jungkook says when he lets go. 

You pull your hand away from his shoulder. “I didn’t want us to lag behind.” 

“I wouldn’t have mind.” Jungkook says. It’s spoken with so much sincerity that it suddenly triggers a lot of underlying pain – and not just because there’s a big wound on your thigh that’s feeling a little better now – but because Jungkook is acting so different with you. “I’ll try to hunt us something to eat. We’ll stay here for a while so you can rest. Your wound’s pretty fucking big and I’m sure it’s gonne be swollen in a few minutes. Let’s just dry it out for awhile so I can apply the gel all over it, and then we can–” 

“Jungkook,” you cut him off. “Can you stop?” 

He looks at you, rightfully confused. 

You feel mad. Mad at the horned lizard for cutting you. Mad at yourself for letting yourself get cut. Mad at Jungkoook. Mad that he’s being nice. Mad at the situation. Mad at the war. And mad that all of this doesn’t make sense to you. 

“Stop trying to act like you care," You purse your lips and stare into his eyes when you add, “I don’t trust you. Right now I’m putting my guards down and maybe you feel nice enough to not obliterate it but this doesn’t mean you suddenly get to act like you’ve always cared about me. You never did, and I doubt you ever will.” 

Jungkook looks at you. His dark brown orbs have always held something in them – the stars, looks like it, but the stars were beautiful and you didn’t like associating him with beautiful things. 

“You don’t know everything.” Jungkook says, looking away just as he says that. You thought there was more… or maybe you thought there was more so you could retaliate with something – just something – but no words come after it. 

You find yourselves staring blankly ahead at the landscape of nothing but the vast blue skies. 

[mewsmagic]

One thing about avemuji ep 11 I haven’t seen anyone talking about yet is how (if her story IS at least partially true) Hatsune’s obsession with Saki started because she had everything she didn’t have:

She was a legitimate child of their family and thus had her existence accepted and loved, at the same age as her also

She was happy, rich, had a loving family and a healthy childhood

She was allowed to be close to her family (while Hatsune grew up hearing about how she was a secret, not supposed to exist, was prohibited from getting any closer to her other side of the family, and especially from that random girl her age for no reason she knew of)

Like yeah I did ship them at the start but if we put the ship aside for a moment to think about what this episode brought to the table, there’s SO MUCH to think about yk?

Whether you think her obsession is love, platonic or whatever (personally, I think it is limerence, in the platonic way just bc limerence can get that crazy without being romantic, but I do get where yall are coming from if you think it’s inherently romantic)

What intrigues me the most is that it didn’t start all that emotionally attached, it was mostly the forbidden factor. The fact that she wasn’t allowed to meet this one girl who had everything she didn’t, and I’m damn sure it could even be the start of this forbidden “love” also, attraction for what is forbidden even though she hates herself for feeling that way

But then she actually got to learn about Sakiko through Uika (if Uika exists), she learnt that she was kind and liked adventure, liked catching bugs, didn’t bother making friends with a lower class girl, and ultimately, she met her herself and became human for the first time because of her…

That tells me so much about how it started, how it progressed and how it got this bad, you know? And damn I think it is intriguing, definitely not romantic bc I really don’t think they’re romanticizing any of it, but like… That’s kinda how mental illnesses work

As a neurodivergent myself, I really appreciate how they’re picking the taboo aspects of mental illness and portraying them through these characters. Especially Hatsune, who’s clearly shown multiple times to feel so much shame for how she feels

I’m soooo damn sure she doesn’t want to feel that way for someone she’s been prohibited to meet all her life, much less her niece, knowing she’s her niece 😭😭😭😭 she knows it’s wrong, and super embarrassing, she freaked out when Nyamu sent that message, she got scared by her own intrusive thought of killing Saki’s bff just because of her possessiveness, she’s scared of herself!!!!

This is also why I think she may be exaggerating, especially those aspects of her story that paint her as the villain yk? She can’t see herself as anything less than the evil villain so she makes up excuses as to why she’s guilty for everything, and damn that’s so real of her you knowwww 😭😭😭😭

Like I mentioned though, I ship uisaki more platonically right now LOL I really wish they could develop a more real friendship going forward, the relationship they have right now is purely on Hatsune’s head, a fantasy, and Saki is painfully aware and uncomfortable by this at this point

But like Saki showed in this episode, she still cares about her and is worried about whatever is going on, so I really don’t think their potential is lost already 😔 they definitely need to start as friends and with Hatsune growing out of her limerent obsession though

[candlelitvamp]

Achoo!

A little blurb abt how jooyeon would react when you’re sick

for @joocomics (feel better pookie 🫶)

a/n: booo corny title but whatever. also i love a sickfic i fear. even tho this is borderline a crack fic… it’s not my fault he’s like that soz

honestly l think he is a little bit of a pain in the ass when you’re sick. but in an endearing way mostly

kind of just a pain in the ass in general at first tho

like you text him “sorry bb i can’t hang out today, i’m sick :(” and he replies some shit like “damn. L+ratio”

and ur like “no actually like i feel really awful” and he goes “i’m sorry babe that sucks feel better”

he does Not get the hint until you practically hit him over the head with it by saying smth like “if ONLY i had someone to COME TAKE CARE OF ME… oh how i WISH i had a handsome boy to come be my sexy nurse!!!”

you don’t hear from him for like half an hour and ur like wtf! i’ve been abandoned! and all of a sudden your front door opens and in comes jooyeon with a bag of stuff from the convenience store and pharmacy… and 2 masks on

“wow you’re not gonna kiss me better?” “baby i love you but you sound awful and i’m not trying to fuck up my voice” “you’re so mean” “i’ll kiss it better with the masks on?” “Ew No WTF That’s Weird”

he is a sweetie tho. takes your temperature, gives you medicine and vitamins (he looked up what to get you and also asked seungmin), makes you tea with lemon and honey, and snuggles you on the couch

will actually kiss you with his masks on, don’t test him

he’s actually DYINGGG to kiss you for real like he usually does All The Time

but when he left their manager warned him to be careful not to get sick and mess up his voice and he Really doesn’t want to get in trouble 😭🥲

wraps you in every blanket you own

takes your temperature again every 5 minutes

tries to cook you chicken soup with no vegetables in it??? “that won’t help me get better i need the nutrients” “but they’re gross :( and u gave you vitamins anyway” “you’re literally not eating it???” “i was gonna make two servings” “no leftovers for me tho… you’re the worst nurse ever” “at least i’m a sexy nurse ;) that’s what you asked for, right?” (and really, you kind of can’t argue with that)

makes you go to bed early, tucks you in and cuddles you

takes the masks off bc “it’s too uncomfortable to sleep with them on” and ur like “then why did u wear them in the first place???”

he has no good comeback to that

so he gives in and actually kisses you, mostly on the forehead and nose tho to at least Pretend he’s still trying not to get sick

but if you whine and pout your lips at him he’s giving you the Most gentle and tender kiss ever that will leave your face feeling hot, and not just cuz of the fever

will sing/hum softly to help you sleep while gently rubbing your back and petting your hair

let’s out a sigh of relief when you fall asleep cuz he really hates seeing you uncomfortable/in pain :((

if he ends up getting sick after though… godspeed

you’re lucky to have each other though, and worse case scenario at least you can be sick together 🥹

[solarwynd]

https://www.tumblr.com/taehyungfirst/779463988118470656/not-tae-related-but-i-saw-on-another-blog-jm

I guess you ruffled some feathers 🤣

I’m not the only jimin biased account who’s talked about what he’s doing so this could be for anybody since they didn’t link my blog, but say it is directed at me.

If they think my dislike of what he’s doing is because I’m trying to keep him in some box, that’s very incorrect. I’ll be the first person to say that I hate that HYBE even made those boxes the standard for all the members especially Jimin cause it’s the very reason we’re still fighting for him to be properly recognized for his skills and musical prowess to this day.

Hobi can do what he wants cause he’s a grown man that was never the issue. And it’s not about pjms not being able to have “fun” either.

If Jimin started doing what Hobi was doing it’d be corny and uncomfortable for me too cause he’s able to pull off being sensual in a much more effective way that’s actually attractive to me. What Hobi and JK do appeals to a demographic that I’m not and have never been apart of. Creative freedom does not constitute me applauding them for “letting loose” and acting like they just hit puberty at 31 and 27 years old cause what is authentic about that? That’s the most basic thing a male artist can do to grab the attention of the audience they think will go for it. Be serious 😭 Just say yall find it hot.

But if y’all want to fight for the right for these men to fake swing their dicks around, grope themselves or mime air fucking women on stage, do you. They’re getting whacked for it over here cause it’s lame asl to me.

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Speaking my truth…

We as Byler shippers have got to stop acting like sexuality is something taboo. Not sexuality as in sexual orientation, sexuality as in sexuality. They’re teenage boys ffs they’re going through puberty like let’s be so fr rn 😭

If you’re personally uncomfortable with talking about topics like that THAT’S FINE! I’m not saying it’s for everyone! I’m just saying that this fandom behaves so weird when it comes to talk about sex and the like… I was very confused when I first joined the byler community because of this

For me the only reason it still feels a bit weird to talk or think about Byler and sex is because their relationship has been so rocky these past two seasons. They were at their peak in s2, and in s2 they were both like thirteen years old… S4 Byler did not have the kind of dynamic that I could imagine leading up to something sexual. They have had so much miscommunication for two seasons now, and until they’ve resolved allat they will not be able to take their friendship a step further.

S2 Byler was at its peak, but again, they were thirteen years old and if you’re thinking about two thirteen year olds in a sexual context then that is absolutely fucking weird if you ask me… so what we need is for them to solve things and be on better terms in s5, and for s2 Mike to make a comeback. Only then could I imagine them being able to get together and from there take it further in their own pace.

They’ll be sixteen years old in s5 guys. Nancy was, what? Fourteen? when losing her virginity on screen. I personally don’t particularly enjoy sex scenes, but it didn’t really make me uncomfortable either? Well, not more uncomfortable than the Duffer brothers intended it to be by letting Barb die while Nancy and Steve we’re going at it… it was intended to make people feel uncomfy, but the sex part of it all wasn’t what did it for me. (lol also I feared Steve was taking advantage of her and was gonna dump her and spread rumours abt her afterwards but I don’t know where that came from)

This post is not me trying to excuse myself for wanting Byler to have got graphic sex on screen you guys 😭😭😭 I don’t believe it’s going to happen and I don’t exactly wish for it to happen either, but I’m just very confuzzled by how much people seem to hate the thought of byler having sex?

Edit: I have been informed that Nancy was 16 in the sex scene and not 14.

[lotus-pear]

Heyy! It's ur akutagawa anon :P

Do you have a Bungou Stray Dogs Hot take/Unpopular opinion?

unpopular opinion but i don’t see kousano’s appeal bc they’ve never interacted😭 like it rly feels like the fandom just throwing two independent strong women together just to have lesbian rep (NO PROBLEM WITH THIS BTW IM A RAREPAIR SHIPPER TOO but i just don’t see their appeal i hope they get interactions later)

oh also ppl who hate the straight bsd ships need to actually go eat cement /srs 😐 i’m being so serious rn if you hate atsulucy or tachigin bc they get in the way of ur mlm ship then i have no respect for you

last but not least not a hot take just a personal opinion but i get HELLA uncomfortable when ppl call pm chuuya and/or dazai hot or sexualize them bc they’re literally minors 😭😭😭 bitch idc if it’s like when they’re seventeen they’re still children

[alphabetletterj]

Thinking about the RORS when they’re drunk.

Chip is the type of guy to just fall asleep when drunk. And he wakes up with marker all over his face like

Reggie is a party drunk and has broken and will break shit. Definitely gotten into fights before. She/he wakes up in a tree and nobody knows how he got up there.

At first Randy wouldn’t drink but eventually he tries it and gets wasted. The others make sure to get plenty of pictures of his first drunk night and laughing at him. Chip ends up having to take care of him.

Johnny actually doesn’t get drunk that often (he doesn’t want to not be in control of himself or do anything to smear his reputation)

Chet’s just depressing. He guts drunk and makes a lot of self deprecating jokes that aren’t funny and are just sad, and then he gets even more upset because he hates himself and wants to di-

Then Johnny swoops in like “Haha okayyyyy, why don’t you head upstairs buddy” once he starts to bring the mood down and make people uncomfortable

Javier prefers weed to alcohol but when he does drink he just gets a lot less “quiet abt mysterious” and gets all smiley and stuff

I finally deigned to do the drunk hcs (i'm sorry 💔)

Btw i'm using this as an excuse to post this cuz my ask box is full 🔥🔥🔥

Always starting with fucking randall...

Randy doesn't drink and if he does it's because of social pressure. In the hypothetical case that he was drunk, I think he would sit there with his eyes even more squinted than he already has them, laughing at anything no matter how boring or bad it is, give him 15 minutes and this stupid ass will already be telling you anecdotes about when he was 5 years old that nobody cares about 😭

Reggie doesn't change much - he starts out crazy, he fights with a couple of people for the slightest stupidity, he gets tired and falls asleep wherever he is (he will sleep for 12 hours without the possibility of anyone waking him up) (whoever wakes him up is dead)

Chip is relaxed, he stays calm and maybe while he's drunk he smokes a joint, he also laughs twice as much (and very loud) at everything. Then he falls dead💀 he falls asleep in a sleep so deep that it seems that this mf is in a coma, he is usually the first to fall asleep and the others take the opportunity to draw his entire fucking face (javier draws dicks near his mouth ❤️)

Chet is one of those drama queens who tells you tragic past experiences (very exaggerated) about things that maybe aren't as bad as he says - Sometimes he cries like an abandoned dog 😭 and starts singing sad heartbreak karaoke songs with some girls (that bitch has never had a heartbreak in his entire life, who does he think he is??? /j) then as if nothing had happened he calms down and goes to his room

Javier likes beer (he learned to drink it since he was little because his dad was a "bit" addicted 💀) he has a high tolerance for alcohol, he can drink 30 bottles and nothing happens to him, he doesn't usually do much so after a while his antennae act "weird" but his face is still the same, sometimes he smiles for whatever reason even though no one has told him anything. As he is usually the last to go to sleep, he reflects a lil bit, drinks water and goes to bed (the next day he wakes up with a headache).

Johnny is a spoiled bitch, he only drinks wine or expensive drinks, he annoys javier by saying "how could you like that thing🤓🤓🤓" accompanied by the shitty face he always makes. But the times he is drunk, let's say he looks "normal" but his eyes look super tired and his tone of voice is slower. Like the best guy in the world, he gets up early the next day without any side effects (I hate him)

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part seven

authors note: i take some creative liberties with medical (mostly hipaa) stuff in this one, so please disregard. also, thank you everyone for (still!!!) being so interested in this story. you guys are making me wanna flesh it out even more like seriously 😭 i wanted to not make it past 10 (3 to 4 initially) parts but the support has been so humbling, and ya'll seem to like/want more sooooo 😭

song inspo: with me by destiny's child

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angst, language, suggestive themes

words: 7k

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

Absolutely every rule of the road is broken in getting Callie to the hospital.

You couldn’t give two shits. 

You just continue to try to reassure your crying child that she's going to be okay while fighting your own pending panic attack.

Speeding through the lanes, uncaring if the light is yellow and you should slow down, you’ll take whatever ticket. The only rule you abide by is not going through a red light, understanding how stupid and dangerous that is. However, while the hospital is about a 15 to 20 minute drive from you, you make it there in a solid eight minutes.

And even that is too much.

The emergency room is, expectedly, pretty empty save a couple of people. Emergencies are rare and infrequent in your town. It’s truly a stroke of bad, cruel luck that your sweet little girl is victim to one of the few. 

Rushing to the front desk, Callie cradled against you, you blurt to the receptionist, “something’s wrong with her stomach.”

The woman appears uninterested until her eyes land on Calista who’s still crying into your chest, hand on her stomach. She calls out to the back, and you see the double doors open. A few minutes later, if that, a set of doctor and nurses emerge. 

“What happened?” The doctor immediately asks, starting to assess Callie, first checking for a fever and then shining a light in both her eyes. 

Speaking is suddenly difficult, but you manage, “I–I don’t know. She said her stomach was hurting right before she went to bed, so I gave her some Children’s Tylenol, then she woke up in the middle of the night screaming in pain, and I–I rushed her over here.”

He nods, gently going to press on her stomach as she shouts in pain again. Your own stomach clenches, hating to see her hurt like this. 

Something appears to flash in his vision, but whatever it is, he keeps it to himself. “We need to admit her.” He reaches for Callie who suddenly clings tighter to you.

“No!” There’s pure fear and panic in her voice, as she starts to cry harder. “I wanna stay with my mommy!” 

Her words kill you, because you also don’t want to let her go, but you know it’s what needs to happen. “Baby, it’s okay, they’re gonna help you, and I’m right here, alright?” You try to reassure her, gently stroking her hair. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

She’s clearly still uncomfortable but allows the doctor to carry her, as he instructs one of the nurses, “page peds.” Her eyes never leave you as he moves quickly to carry her into one of the rooms, carefully placing her down on the bed. You’re immediately by her side, needing her to know you’re right here with her and not going anywhere. 

While the doctor gives a variety of commands to some of the nurses, you somehow have the wherewithal to catch the attention of one of the nurses, informing, “her dad is on his way. Can you make sure they let him back? His name is Joe.”

She nods. “Of course.” 

“And—” this is both relevant and irrelevant, but as it’s at the forefront of your mind, so you tell her, “I also need a release form. For him. He’s….he’s not on the birth certificate.”

If she’s judging you for this piece of information, you’ll never know because her expression remains unchanged. “I’ll have one brought to you.”

“Thank you.” It hasn’t really crossed your mind until this terrifying moment that Joe has no legal right or say into any medical or legal situations regarding Calista. This scares you in a different way, her own father having no say in decisions that could be life or death. It’s shoved into the back of your mind, but when this is all said and done, you know this it’s something you need to discuss with him. 

You need to look into whatever the state requires to have a father’s name added to a birth certificate. But, of course, all of this is secondary to what’s happening before you, your focus returning to Callie who’s still holding onto your arm. 

“Alright, what do we have here?” 

A new voice enters the room, and you look up, momentarily surprised to see another doctor, but it’s not the fact that it’s a doctor that surprises you. It’s who the doctor is. 

You give him a double take, almost not trusting your judgment in this moment. But when he approaches Callie’s side and offers a gentle smile, you see it, the cleft in his chin. 

“Kai?” 

He lifts his eyes to you, offering a small nod, returning his focus to assessing Callie. And then he looks up again. Like he gave you the standard acknowledgement only to also realize who you are.

“Y/N?”

Yup. Hearing his voice again, you’re certain this is most definitely Kai Sawyer. 

Kai Sawyer, former classmate, once friend, brief lover when you were in high school. He was always sweet, almost too sweet for the toxic teenager you were who was too stuck on Amir to realize Kai was a much better option. 

Granted, it was never serious. You never had any sort of feelings for him that left you stumped.

Nothing like with Joe. 

“It’s good to see you.” He seems just as surprised to see you as you are to see him. The last you heard was that he left for school, pursuing a medical career and planned to move out of state. Kai motions to Callie. “This is your daughter?” Nodding with a small, forced smile, you watch him carefully lean down to be closer to Callie’s eye level. “Hi there, sweetie. I’m Dr. Sawyer. Can you tell me your name?”

She sniffles, seemingly holding you tighter. “Callie.”

“Callie,” he says, precisely, pronouncing each syllable. “What a very pretty name. Well, Callie, is it okay if I feel your belly so we can see what’s going on and help you feel better?”

She doesn’t look at you for approval, instead nodding as Kai starts to evaluate her. Once again, she cries out in pain as he feels the same area you’d unintentionally put too much pressure on. 

“It hurts,” she whimpers, and you kiss her forehead. Seeing her in pain is a form of torture you absolutely cannot tolerate. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he apologies, standing upright again. “We’re gonna make you all better though, okay?” 

She says nothing, instead tugging you closer to her as she lays her head against your shoulder.

Kai speaks to the nurses in a low voice, where you can only make out intermittent parts. Something about an IV drip and pain meds. Once he’s done, he looks over at you and continues with that low voice, “can I talk to you outside?”

His question doesn’t help with the anxiety you’re already having an extremely difficult time controlling, but Callie’s heightened cries and tightened grasp on you captures your attention the most.

“No, mommy, don’t leave me!" 

It’s an impossible decision, even if logically, you know what you have to do. Whatever Kai wants to discuss with you clearly doesn’t need to be in front of Callie, but you also know she’s hurting and just wants her mom. 

“You said your name is Callie? That’s such a cute name.” One of the nurses comes over and offers a warm smile. “I have a little girl who’s just about your age too. She likes barbies and playing dress up. What do you like?”

Sniffling, still holding onto you, Callie meets the nurse’s eye contact and answers after a second. “Disney.”

The nurse gasps, “so does my little girl.” She sits on the side of the bed as the other nurse finishes inserting Callie’s IV. “Is it okay if I sit with you and we talk about Disney while mama talks to Dr. Sawyer?”

You’re so thankful for this act of kindness and assure Callie, “I’ll be right back. I’m just outside the door, okay?”

She’s still unsure and highly uncomfortable, but a small nod precedes her releasing her grip on you. You start to climb out of the hospital bed when she grabs you again. 

You expect another form of protest, of unease about you leaving her. Instead, in a small, innocent voice, she states, “I want Joe.”

The ball in the back of your throat grows exponentially. You’re already emotional, for obvious reasons, but there’s something about her request, so simple yet so powerfully telling, that brings a new set of tears to your eyes. 

“He’s on his way, baby, okay?” As the hospital is in the same direction as his hotel, you expect his arrival in a matter of minutes, hopefully. 

She seems comforted by this piece of information, and you’re able to break away to follow Kai outside the room. Once out of a proximity where she could overhear, you ask, urgently, “what’s wrong with her?”

Kai sighs, crossing his arms over his body with a sympathetic expression. “Well, I—”

The sound of heavy, urgent footsteps capture your attention, and you look to your side to see a nurse escorting Joe. His eyes land on you with a curious expression before he asks, “where is she?”

His voice is calm, but you know him well. Too well. Enough to know that he’s worried out of his mind, too. 

You gesture to the door a few inches away from you. “With the nurse.” Gesturing to Kai, you inform, “this is the doctor.”

There’s something about Joe’s presence that instantly calms you, allows your emotions to regulate just a little better. 

“Holy shit,” Kai breathes, and you look over to see he’s staring at Joe with bewilderment. “You’re–uh—is this her dad?” The question is posed to you, and you run your hand over your face, nodding. Kai clearly recognizes Joe, err, Roman, and is in a brief state of celebrity panic. Any other time, you’d understand it, but right now, you’re on the doorsteps of a nervous breakdown, and the medical professional in charge of Callie’s care being starstruck isn’t the least bit helpful.

“Yes,” Joe answers, his voice not unkind but not friendly either. “What’s wrong with my daughter?”

Kai clears his throat, snapping back into his professional shoes. “It seems like early stages of appendicitis. We call it acute appendicitis, meaning her appendix hasn’t ruptured yet, which is good.” He gazes at you, grateful. “You got her here just in time.”

His words do little to comfort you, because you’re still stuck on the first part. 

“Appendicitis?” You repeat, confused . “But–but she’s only four. How—”

“It’s not as uncommon in children as people think. Did you by any chance have one when you were younger?”

You have to think for a second, recognition then dawning. You’d completely forgotten about that borderline traumatic experience that was eerily similar to this. Waking your mom up because you were in a tremendous amount of pain and her calling 911 to rush you to the hospital. God, how could you not remember that until now? “Yes, yes, but I was—I was like 10.”

“So still a kid,” he confirms. Kai turns to Joe. “What about dad?”

“Yeah, I was twelve.” 

“Wait a minute.” You don’t know about Joe, but you certainly remember the outcome of your experience. “You—you don’t have to operate on her, right?” Scoffing, your words become difficult to express. “Kai, she’s—she’s too little for that. There’s—there’s another way, right?”

“Surgery is the best treatment—”

“No!” You cut him off, not wanting to hear this shit. “You’re not cutting her open, Kai. I–I won’t—-I won’t allow it.”

Joe finally addresses you, hand on the small of your back as he tries to get you to look at him. “Y/N….”

You jerk away, “I said no!” Turning back to Kai, you plead, eyes starting to burn again, “isn’t there—isn’t there something else you can do? Like medicine or—”

“Her appendix needs to be removed, Y/N. There’s no way around that.” Kai’s tone is full-on professional, borderline pleading, needing you to actually heed to his medical opinion. “The procedure is standard, should take about an hour, and it presents minimal risk. It’s really the best and safest option. If we don’t operate, inflammation could increase and eventually cause her appendix to rupture. Once that happens, because of her age, she becomes at an increasingly high risk for infection. And that could become fatal.” 

The word fatal sounds out everything else as you fall back against the wall, covering your mouth, unable to hold back the tears. “Oh my god.”

Joe looks at Kai, directring firmly. “Do it. Do it now.”

“I’ll book an OR.” Kai nods and you hear him say something else, but it’s all so distant and blurry. Fatal and Callie should never be in the same sentence, but right now it’s a reality that you can’t fathom. Your chest hurts, your stomach hollow, and head all over the place.

“I—it’s my fault,” you murmur to yourself or maybe Joe. You’re not entirely sure. “She—she told me her stomach was upset, but I—I didn’t listen. I just—I just gave her medicine and made her go to sleep.” You inhale sharply, eyes burning with salty tears. “She was in pain, and I didn’t listen to her. I didn’t—”

“Baby, look at me.” Before you realize it, Joe is in front of you, cupping your face and forcing your blurry gaze on him. “You did nothing wrong. There was no way for you to know what was happening.”

“I’m her mother, Joe—" you protest, sniffling, hands on his chest. “I’m supposed to know when something’s wrong. I’m–I’m supposed to protect her.”

“And you did,” he assures, pushing back some of your hair. “You heard the doctor. You got her here just in time. It could have been a lot worse.” He wipes away your tears, hating to see you so upset, so hard on yourself over a situation outside of your control. “You’re an amazing mother. Do you know why she’s such a great and happy kid? Because of you. Because you take such good care of her. You’ve raised her on your own, and look at how amazing she is. That’s all you. Why else do you think she’s so attached to you? Because you’re just as much her world as she is yours.” He pulls you into his chest, continuing to gently comfort you, “she’s gonna be fine, okay?” 

Being held in that moment, being held by Joe is exactly what you need. It centers you as much as one can be centered in this kind of situation. You find yourself holding onto him, embracing the comfort and support. 

Eyes shut, you murmur into his chest, “thank you for being here.”

You feel his hand move gently down your back, his mouth pressed to the top of your head. “Always.”

After a few minutes, maybe more, maybe less, you separate and wipe at your eyes. “Okay.” It’s trying to gather yourself before going back in the room, not wanting to scare her or make anything worse for her than it already is. “We–we need to tell her.”

“You want me to tell her?” He offers, and you’re thankful. He clearly sees how upsetting all of this is and is eager to support you anyway he can.  

“No,” you finally answer. “We’ll do it together.” 

Joe takes your hand and rubs his thumb across your knuckles, a kind, comforting gesture. Appreciated. You appreciate him so fucking much in this moment that it’s almost impossible to explain. Your calm in this storm, a voice of sound reason. Much needed advocate for your daughter as you fall victim to your emotions. 

He looks at you once more, assessing your readiness. A simple nod gives him the answer he needs, as he heads for the door, holding it open so you can enter first. 

The same nurse who so kindly recognized a need lifts her head with that same warm smile. Your eyes immediately land on Calista, who looks less pale than she was when you brought her in. She’s also no longer crying. That relieves you the most. A mother seeing her child cry is a kind of pain no one should ever have to experience. 

The pain meds must be kicking in. You’re immensely grateful.

But as quick as her eyes were on you, they bounce almost instantly to Joe, a larger smile growing. 

“Joe!” Even her voice is stronger, not as weak or weighed down with pain. 

“There’s my girl,” Joe greets, instantly at her side, kissing the top of her head. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“A little better, but my tummy still hurts.”

Allowing them their moment, you turn to the nurse who’s subtly backed away, also recognizing this is a moment that shouldn’t be intruded upon. She also subtly reaches you the clipboard with the ROI that you quickly fill out and hand back to her. “Thank you,” you whisper, hoping your eyes reveal just how much you appreciate her thoughtfulness.

“Of course,” she replies, giving a final look to Callie. “I’ll leave you all alone.” 

Once the door is shut and it’s just the three of you, you move to the other side of the hospital bed, seeing there’s a possible space to jump in and gently break the news to her. A shared glance with Joe followed by a nod is the answer you need as you take a deep breath.

“Calista….” As soon as she gazes at you, you recognize she knows something is up. You hardly ever use her full first name. “Baby, Joe and I talked to the doctor about what he needs to do to make you all better, and—and he said you’ve gotta have surgery to take the bad stuff out your stomach.”

Her brows cave together, confused. “What’s surgery?”

Joe jumps in, recognizing your initial difficulty with how to explain such a concept to a young child. “It’s when doctors give you medicine to make you go to sleep while they take the bad stuff out of you.”

She looks at him, a little more understanding, still obviously and understandably unsure. “Does it hurt?”

You answer, trying your best to keep your tone as calm as possible. “When you wake up, it may hurt a little but that’s cause it’s gotta heal.” 

Joe shares, and you’re so grateful for his partnership at this moment. For his ability to assist and tag team. “You wanna know something? Your mom and I had the same surgery when we were kids.”

She seems intrigued by this. “Really?” Nodding, you study her facial expressions, knowing her well enough to know that she’s struggling with her emotions. She’s not alone. 

Finally, after a minute of contemplation, she whispers, “I’m scared.” 

“It’s okay to be scared, Callie,” Joe assures. He's so damn good with her, gentle and patient. “Everyone gets scared.”

She looks over at him, asking innocently, “even you?”

“Of course,” he answers, vulnerably sharing, “I was scared when your mom called me and said she was taking you to the hospital.” The both of you were. That’s no call any parent wants to ever receive. 

She looks between the two of you. “Can you guys come with me?”

“We can’t go back with you, but we’ll be waiting right here for you as soon as you wake up.” Joe answers for you, thumb brushing over her forehead.

“You promise?”

 Lips pressed against her forehead, you vow, “we promise.”

—-------

As soon as Callie is taken back to the OR and the two of you are left alone in the waiting area, Joe begins to lift his hoodie over his head, suddenly reaching it to you. “Put this on.” 

You look at him, confused. “What?”

His eyes briefly trail your body, head to toe. “Do you realize what you're wearing?”

Brows furrowed, you look down and gasp. In the midst of adrenaline and flight or flight, your appearance never dawned on you. Your pajama set is short, skimpy, and shows off a slice of your stomach, not that you care too much about that. It’s more the fact that you’re not wearing a bra, and this waiting room is cold as fuck. 

You also realize your bonnet is still on your head. 

In short, you look a hot ass mess, more like someone waiting for admission to the psych ward instead of an anxious parent awaiting her daughter to get out of surgery. 

“Fuck.” The first thing you do is rip your bonnet off, deciding to keep your pineapple. Next is accepting Joe’s hoodie, sliding it over your frame. It’s understandably baggy, grazing just above your knees. “Thank you.” 

The two of you move over to the seating area as you sigh loudly, suddenly asking. “What time is it?”

He checks the watch on his wrist. “3:15.” 

You scoff, rubbing your eyes but not saying anything, leaning back into the seat, trying to not get too much into your head. It’s a difficult feat when your four-year-old child is under the knife for emergency surgery.

“The doctor…..” Joe starts, and you turn to look at him. “You called him by his first name.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate for you to understand his question. “We went to high school together.” If your intention was to keep your answer as casual and general as possible, you fail miserably because Joe 100% picks up on the unspoken words. 

“And?”

Shrugging, you explain, “we didn’t date per se, but we hooked up.” Looking back, you recognize how Kai was absolutely a rebound in between Amir and all his bullshit. And you do regret that, because Kai was always a genuinely nice guy. He didn't deserve to be caught up in your Joker-Harley Quinn ‘love’ story. 

“Fucking hell.” Joe looks away, genuinely annoyed, and for some reason, it makes you smile. The first of the night, err, morning. And you’re weirdly thankful for this conversation, for this distraction you wonder if he's intentionally providing you. “Do all your ex’s still live here? Why does nobody ever leave this town?”

You laugh, actually laugh, and it feels nice. A contrast from all of the heaviness you’ve experienced over the past few hours. 

Sucking your teeth, you respond, sassily. “I’m tired of you roasting my tiny little no name town.”

He eyes you curiously, clearly surprised by your reference. “You watch?”

“Occasionally,” you answer with a shrug. You don’t want to tell him you’ve found yourself increasingly watching Bloodline clips during the kids' lunchtime at school. Or at night when you don’t know what else to watch. Not when before his return, it was rare and in between you’d find yourself consuming anything WWE related, let alone with Roman Reigns. “Not a lot. Just enough to see how you’re doing exactly what I always knew you could do.” 

Joe stares, appreciatively, gently adding, “you always believed in me.” 

“Of course, I did.” It’s always been so visible and obvious. From the very beginning, you recognized his potential and knew he would excel once they finally released him from his shackles. You find yourself leaning against his body and grab onto his arm. “I could never have a bum for a baby daddy.”

You don’t have to be looking at him to know he’s rolling his eyes, that expression of his that’s a mixture of a scowl and smile. 

He doesn’t say anything after that, not immediately, and that’s okay, because just sitting here, with him, not alone and in your head is a great comfort.

“She has my last name.”

You look up at him, surprised and confused as to why he’s saying this like he didn’t already know it. But it’s in that looking at him, you see it’s because he clearly didn’t already know this.

He was unaware. 

Sitting up, you ask, “you didn't know?”

He shakes his head, explaining, “when I got here, I said I was here for Calista, and she said Calista Anoa’i.” That’s it. How he found out. How his daughter, who he hadn’t even known about up until not even two months ago, shared the same last name as him. All of these major life reveals being dropped on him like it’s nothing.

You feel terrible again, just for different reasons. 

“I never wanted to erase you from her life. I just—” It’s hard to explain something you’re starting to not even fully understand. In such a short timespan, Joe has done a tremendous job stepping into the role of dad. So much so that it has you deeply regretting depriving him of the almost first five years of her life.

Depriving yourself of having a partner to raise Callie with.

“I just went about it all wrong,” is the best you can land on to describe what you’re thinking and feeling. “And I'm sorry you found out like this. I guess, I just thought it would have come up by now.”

“It’s fine.” It’s not. He’s just trying to be mindful of where you are emotionally right now. Always considerate, despite his own feelings. 

Grabbing a hold of his arm, you lean into him again, eventually murmuring, “no, it’s not.” You’re starting to feel more and more like there was never a good enough reason to rob him of this, to have a child walking around this earth with his last name, his blood, and him be in the dark. Him being married was a factor, but it wasn’t a firm reason. “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t ha—”

“Yes, I do,” you interrupt him, already knowing he’s going to try to pacify you, to try to convince you that it wasn’t that bad. Bullshit. “You missed out on so much, because of me, and I’m truly sorry, Joe. My own shit got i—”

“Excuse me?”

You sit upright, attention automatically redirected to the Caucasian woman in front of you with a bad bleach job, crows feet that probably contrast her actual age, and a clipboard. It’s the damn clipboard that kills your thought that maybe Callie is out her surgery and you guys can see her. 

Wishful thinking.

“Bill it,” is your short, curt reply as you lay back down against Joe’s arm. His eyes are on you, curious. 

The woman gives a small, fake laugh. “Excuse me?”

“You’re here to discuss insurance shit, right?” Her silence is the answer you need. “Well, I’m telling you to bill my insurance and then send me a bill.” 

She extends a more authentic smile to Joe, and you almost could swear you see the faintest hint of blush on her pale face. “Well, aren’t you three steps ahead?” When you don’t say anything, she awkwardly clears her throat and continues. “I actually wanted to know if you’d like to take advantage of this really great option we have where we give you an estimated cost and accept payment now so that—”

“Lady, my daughter is in surgery right now. I don’t give a scathing fuck about your great option. Bill it, and get the hell away from us.” Your words are blunt, coarse, and very much to the point. You couldn’t give two shits about anything she has to say if it’s not regarding Callie being out, up, and all better.

Joe chuckles above you, still saying nothing, just watching her walk away with her tail between her legs. “You had some restraint. I’m proud of you.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, eyes closing as you try to allow yourself to bask in the comfort he provides. It’s such a different experience. The last time you had to rush Callie to the ER, she was two, your mom was out of town on a women’s retreat, and Mariah was off on her honeymoon. It was just you, by yourself, waiting to find out what the hell was wrong with your toddler. 

Having someone with you in this moment, having him with you, means more to you than he could ever imagine.

“How’d you come up with her name?” He asks after a few moments of silence.

This brings a smile to your face, a genuine one that you actually feel in your body. “A book.” 

“Like a baby name book?” You should have known better. Joe is many things, a man of specificity being pretty high up there. 

You hesitate to respond. “Not exactly.”

He glances down, assessing your expression before tilting his head back. “You didn’t.”

“Hear me out.” 

“Did you seriously name our daughter after some character from one of your freaky ass sex books?” You’re grateful for the little laughter this conversation provides you, and it makes you realize how much this man must have missed you to remember that. To remember your guilty pleasure for smutty kindle books. Not so much as you’ve gotten older and just genuinely don’t have the time to read them.

Resting your chin against his massive arm, you defend, “first of all, rude. Secondly, it wasn’t even that freaky. Unfortunately.” He rolls his eyes and you continue, “the character was actually really interesting and not awful. And I’d never heard the name Calista before, so when I looked it up and saw it meant most beautiful….it just fit.” Toward the end of your pregnancy was when you fully allowed yourself to embrace being a mother, regardless of the circumstances. It was a blessing and beautiful experience, and you found yourself counting down the days until your due date. “Her middle name is Manaia.” 

He chuckles, softly. “That’s Samoan.”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you rest your cheek against him again. “I know…I told you, she’s just as much you as she is me.” 

—-------

Joe approaches the front desk, seeing a brunette woman scrolling on her phone with a bored expression. Understandable, given the room is empty sans a janitor making the rounds. It’s probably the first and last empty emergency room he’ll ever come across.

“Excuse me.”

She looks up, and her mouth parts, an instant smile growing. One he’s used to but wholeheartedly couldn’t care less about. 

“Hi.” Her tone is much more breathy than what’s necessary, some attempt at coming off flirtatious would be his guess. Zero shits are still given.

Joe doesn’t waste any time, already wanting to get back to you, even if he knows you went to go call your mom and let her know what happened. Still, he needs to, at the very least, get back before he has to feed you some bullshit excuse about where he was. “I need to add a new card on file for Calista Anoa’i.”

She leans forward, chin in her hand, uneven, needle thin eyebrows wiggling. “Are you dad?”

Obviously. “Yes.”

“Lucky kid.” He’d take a good guess that she doesn’t recognize him, which for that, he’s grateful. She just finds him attractive, which is still irritating and unprofessional as hell. Have an attraction, but don’t be so vocal and desperate. “Mom too.”

Ignoring her comment, he grabs his wallet, pulling out his card and sliding it over.

“Do—”

“Change it to the default payment,” he instructs, not in the mood for whatever else she wants to try. It’s all in vain. He has eyes for one woman only, and it certainly isn’t her. “Is there any way you can set it up for autopay?”

She gives Joe a strange expression, like she questions his ability to consent. Because no one in their right mind would authorize a hospital to have such power with their money. “Umm, we can, but it’s really not recommended because you can never guarantee just how much insurance will and won’t cover. So, if they deny the claim in its entirety, then they’ll charge the entire balance—”

“That’s fine,” he cuts her off. “Just do it, and make sure any future charges go to that card only.” He thinks about it, asking, “matter of fact, can you take mom’s card off file altogether?” Joe knows you’re gonna bite his head off for this, and he doesn’t care. He knows medical bills can get costly, and you’re not making bank on a teacher’s salary. The least he can do is take care of his daughter’s medical costs.

“Uhh, sure, as long as you understand—”

“Money isn’t an issue. At all. Do it.”

She shakes her head but types away eventually reaching Joe his card. “All done. You can call and change it at any—”

“I won’t.” And that’s a fact. “Thank you.” 

Joe doesn’t give her a chance to respond or try anything else, turning to head back to the waiting area and is relieved when you return only minutes after he’s sat down. 

“Well, as expected, she’s upset I didn’t call her but calmed down a little bit when I told her you’ve been here with me,” you catch him up, sitting down next to him again. “And she’s on her way. She wants us to go back to my place to get some sleep.” 

Immediately, he protests. “We can’t leave Callie.”

You open your mouth to mostly agree with him when you hear footsteps and feel your stomach flutter seeing Kai heading in your direction.

He gets straight to the point. “Surgery was successful. She’s gonna be fine.” There are no words to properly describe your relief. The past hour felt like the longest period of your life and to know that it wasn’t in vain is so utterly comforting. 

“Thank God,” you breathe, also standing up with Joe. “Thank you, Kai.” You briefly close your eyes, shaking your head and correcting yourself. “I’m sorry, uhh. Dr. Sawyer.” 

“Come on, Y/N. I’ll always just be Kai to you.” It’s said so innocently, and it’s also then you notice the wedding band on his left hand. But, Joe must be giving him a look, because he’s suddenly awkwardly clearing his throat. “Because she’s so young, I'd like to keep her a couple more days to monitor her.”

“Of course,” you agree. There’s no protest at your daughter having medical personnel surrounding her at all times following a surgical procedure. 

He nods and starts to walk away when you remember something, catching him and moving away from Joe to speak privately. 

“Ummm…..” you haven't a clue how to approach nor explain this but try your best. “Joe…..he’s just now in her life. She—she doesn’t even know he’s her dad. It’s….a long, complicated story, but we’re trying to keep everything private—”

He says your name, interrupting you, “ever heard of HIPAA? None of what happened tonight leaves this emergency room.” You nod, slightly assured. “And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll remind the nurses of that too.’

That gives you all of the relief. The last thing you want or need is this becoming fodder for the media. One of the many reasons you love your town is how off the grid it is with a lot of things. Most of them probably wouldn’t even recognize Joe, and the few who do would never dare speak of it outside of this same town, respecting that he’s still a human being. 

“Thank you, Kai. Seriously.” 

He offers you such a genuine smile and adds, “I’m glad I got to see you, Y/N. The circumstances weren’t the best, but I’m pleased to see you ended up happy.” He starts to walk backwards, adding with a slight smirk. “About time you moved on from the likes of Amir and Mariah.”

That throws you for a loop. You understand the part about Amir, but Mariah?

What did he mean by that?

You don’t really have time to think about it, because Joe is at your side, holding your hand and reminding you that you two need to get back in the room for Callie. That’s enough to put the confusion about what just occurred to the back burner. 

Thankfully, when they roll Callie back into her room, she’s still slightly out of it from the anesthesia. But when she comes to, she’s thrilled to see the both of you and announces in a small, proud voice, “I did it.”

It gives you another genuine laugh, and the two of you enjoy her, your brave, sweet little girl. 

As you expected, your mom enters the room, immediately going and comforting Callie. She gives you a little slap on your arm for not calling her, still upset about that. 

That’s also expected.

What isn’t entirely expected is your mom talking to Callie about why you and Joe need to go home for a little bit to rest because you’re tired too. She’s not entirely wrong, Now that you’re out of the flight of it all, you’re crashing and crashing hard. Even Joe looks tired. 

Surprisingly, your mom is able to get Callie to agree with this. It takes more convincing for Joe, but he also eventually relents. And instead of driving all the way to your place, you suggest you two just go to his hotel room which is closer to the hospital.

That’s an easy sell for him. 

Reaching the hotel, you convince Joe to shower first, as you have something you need to take care of. It takes some convincing, but he eventually agrees. Once you hear the shower running, you pull out your phone, surprised to see it hasn’t died and has enough, hopefully, for you to shoot out one more message. 

One you’ve been putting off, but desperately need, especially as of the last 24 to 48 hours. 

Alexis,

Hi. I know it’s been a couple of weeks since my last email, and I’m sorry. I would text you, but I have no idea where in the world you are right now or if you have reception. So, email it is. A lot….a lot has happened. Joe is back in the picture, and he knows about Callie. But, interestingly enough, that’s not an issue at all. He’s so good with her, and she already clearly loves him so much. We haven’t told her he’s her dad, but he plans to do it for Christmas. Callie also had to have emergency surgery last night. Her appendix. That was….a lot. She’s good now, made it out of surgery fine. Thank God. Also, Joe’s divorced. And he more or less told me he wants us to be together, and I don’t know how to feel about that. Sorry, this is all over the place. Joe and I have been up all night with Callie at the hospital, so my brain isn’t working. I just needed to send this now, because I keep forgetting, and I miss you and could really use some advice right now. I need my long distance best friend. 

Love,

Your favorite college roomie

You should probably reread your email before sending it, but that requires energy, and you’re literally operating on fumes. When Joe steps out of the bathroom, shirtless, you don’t even bat an eye, which is unlike you. You’ve always been insanely attracted to him, for obvious reasons. 

You just accept the shirt he offers, close the bathroom door, strip naked and step into the shower. So exhausted, you don’t even realize until halfway through you forgot to use the shower cap but thankfully only a little bit of your hair gets wet.

Not that it matters. Even washing yourself is such a task. 

You’re out of the shower as soon as you feel adequately clean, rid of hospital germs. You don’t even care that the shirt is the only thing covering your otherwise nude body, breast stretching against the cotton. 

It is what it is. 

Stepping out of the bathroom with your clothes tucked under your side, you settle on placing them on a nearby chair. Or maybe it’s a table. You’re not too sure nor do you care all that much. You just need to sleep. 

But, it’s also when you see he’s moving toward the sofa, you know you need something else. 

Someone.

“Joe.”

He turns around, and you move over to him, reaching for his hand. The tug is slight but enough to have him follow your guidance toward the bed where you switch positions so he falls on his back. Moving to the side of the mattress, you climb into the bed and turn on your side, back toward him. You don’t need to ask, because his strong arm is suddenly around you, pulling you into his hard chest.

Sighing in content, you allow his mouth to graze your temple as he pulls the blankets over the both of you.

Hand on his thick forearm that’s keeping you close against him, you murmur, “Callie comes first. We get her straight, make sure she’s okay.” You roll on your back, meeting his telling gaze. “Then we figure out us.”

Joe is staring down at you with an affection you hadn’t realized you missed so deeply until this moment. He doesn’t say anything, just nods in acknowledgment and caresses your cheek. Grateful and tired of so much thinking, you push your body against his, shifting with him as moves onto his back and keeps you close against him.

He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, because none of that matters in that moment. You don’t need to think about anything, don’t want to think about anything, just want to be close to him, just be with the man you’re almost certain now that you never stopped loving. 

And also now wonder if he once felt the same, still feels the same. 

If he’s always felt the same way. 

[kathlare]

wish upon a star

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: A heartfelt gift and a sweet, personal message make Amelie question her feelings for Lando, especially as she navigates the uncertainty of their connection.

Wordcount: 2.6 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

September 25th, 2020 - Anaheim, CA

liked by ameliedayman, maxfewtrell, and others

landonorris: Happy birthday to my favorite human 💜 The most annoying, chaotic, and stubborn person I know… but also the most beautiful, talented, and loving. Life’s a lot more fun (and a lot louder) with you in it. Hope you have the best day, Ames. Love you forever ❤️🎂✨

View all 103,482 comments

ameliedayman: if I’m annoying why do you text me 24/7 🤨🤨 → landonorris: @ameliedayman …unrelated question → ameliedayman: @landonorris no I think it’s very related. explain. → landonorris: @ameliedayman ok fine maybe I like talking to you 🙄 happy now?? → ameliedayman: @landonorris yes 😌 also you’re the annoying one actually. but thanks loser 💜

f1tea: oh he’s down SO bad😭😭 → speedyboi44: @f1tea bro is in LOVE and doesn’t even try to hide it💀 → fastlanefan: @f1tea “love you forever” ??? sir what are we supposed to do with this information???

quadrantfan: bet he rewrote this caption like 50 times to make it sound casual lmao → gridgossip: @quadrantfan and failed miserably bc he sounds like a man in LOVE lmaooo → tracktok: @quadrantfan this is the softest thing he’s ever posted and I don’t know how to feel

ameliepov: NO bc if MY friend posted this for my bday I’d simply have to date him idc

lanmelieforever: The way he wrote a whole ass love letter while still pretending they’re just friends lmao 💀 → f1gossipqueen: @lanmelieforever He’s not even subtle anymore, like at ALL

f1updates: The way he called her his favorite human and said love you forever… WE ARE NOT SURVIVING THIS. → speedyboi44: @f1updates Bro is basically confessing his undying love at this point. Just date already.

maxfewtrell: Bro, just propose at this point. → landonorris: @maxfewtrell Relax, mate 💀

charles_leclerc: Ah, young love… so obvious, yet so blind. → landonorris: @charles_leclerc Charles, pls shut up.

alexwolffofficial: This is basically a soft launch at this point → landonorris: @alexwolffofficial ??? Don’t start. → ameliedayman: @alexwolffofficial lmao not him sweating now

mclarenupdates: Can’t believe we all just casually watch Lando be down BAD for Amelie on main → papayafan: @mclarenupdates It’s a tradition at this point, honestly

gridgossip: He could've just said HBD but no, he had to write a whole love letter 🤨 → paddockprincess: @gridgossip Right?? And people still think they’re just friends??

georgerussell63: This is worse than the last one. I’m cringing. → ameliedayman: @georgerussell63 Good. Stay uncomfortable.

gridwags: If they don’t announce soon I’m suing for emotional distress → paddockqueen: @gridwags Honestly, at this point, they owe us a public confirmation 💀

alex_albon: Just say you’re in love and go → landonorris: @alex_albon Shut up, Alex.

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

Amelie kicked off her shoes the second she stepped into her hotel room, sighing in relief as she pulled down her mask. Her feet ached from walking around Magic Kingdom all day, but it was worth it—every ride, every sugary treat, every stupid laugh with Alex and Minnie had made turning nineteen feel a little less strange.

Still, there was that tiny ache in her chest, the one that whispered something was missing.

Lando.

She hated that she missed him this much, especially when she was the one always reminding him they were just friends. But he wasn’t just her friend. Not anymore. And she knew it.

Minnie followed in behind her, humming under her breath as she flopped onto the bed. Alex, carrying what was left of their Mickey-shaped snacks, nudged her shoulder.

—You look tired, birthday girl.—

Amelie rolled her eyes but smiled. —I am tired. And I smell like churros.—

Alex snorted. —That’s the best way to smell, though.—

Minnie smirked. —You should shower. And maybe check the room properly before you do.—

Amelie frowned. That was suspicious. Too suspicious.

—What? Why?— she asked, glancing between the two of them. They were both terrible at hiding things.

Minnie just smiled, biting her lip, while Alex casually shrugged, but his eyes gave him away.

—Just saying, maybe look around, Ames.—

Her stomach flipped. She knew that tone. What the fuck had they done?

Narrowing her eyes, she took a step further into the room—and that’s when she saw it.

A bouquet of her favorite flowers, sitting in the middle of the table. Next to it, a ridiculously overstuffed Stitch plush, so big it looked like it could swallow her whole. And in front of that, a small white box with a perfectly tied navy-blue ribbon.

Her heart stopped.

—No fucking way.—

—What the hell is this?— Amelie breathed, taking hesitant steps toward the table.

Minnie and Alex just grinned, exchanging knowing glances like they were in on some secret.

—Why don’t you open the card and find out?— Alex suggested, nodding toward the little envelope tucked between the bouquet.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked it up, slipping her nail under the flap and pulling out the card inside. The handwriting was messy but familiar, the letters slanting in a way that made her chest tighten.

Happy Birthday, Ames. I know I can’t be there today, and that fucking sucks, but I hope this makes you smile at least a little. I miss you. I really fucking miss you. -Lan.

She swallowed hard.

Her stomach did that stupid fluttery thing it always did when he was involved, the ache in her chest deepening. Because he cared. Because even from across the world, he wanted to make her feel special.

—Is this from…— she trailed off, already knowing the answer.

Minnie rolled onto her stomach on the bed, kicking her feet behind her. —Obviously. Your not-boyfriend is disgustingly in love with you.—

Amelie’s cheeks burned. —Shut up.—

Alex just smirked. —Are you gonna open the box or what?—

With an eye roll, she set the card down and carefully tugged at the ribbon, untying it and lifting the lid. Inside was a delicate silver bracelet, simple but beautiful, with a tiny charm dangling from it—a little star.

Her throat tightened.

She had told him, months ago, that her mom used to call her mi estrellita when she was little. That it made her feel safe, loved, seen.

And he remembered.

God, she hated him.

Loved him.

Both, probably.

Amelie blinked rapidly, trying to push down the lump in her throat as she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist. It fit perfectly.

Amelie stood there for a moment, just staring at the bracelet. The weight of it on her wrist felt like a tangible reminder of how much Lando truly cared for her, even when they were miles apart. She could practically hear his voice in her head, that soft, teasing tone he always used when they joked, and yet there was something so real, so heartfelt, about the way he expressed his feelings, even from across the world.

Her eyes flicked to the bouquet of flowers. She had no doubt that those were carefully selected, knowing her favorite colors, the types of blooms that always made her smile. And the Stitch plush? Well, that was just so Lando. Over the top, silly, and yet exactly what she needed. Something to remind her that even though they hadn’t put a label on whatever this was, he cared. He cared a lot.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she quickly turned away from the table, pacing a few steps to distract herself.

—Ames, what’s wrong?— Alex asked, his voice tinged with concern.

—Nothing, I’m just...— she trailed off, not sure how to explain it. She’d been putting so many walls up, telling herself that being with Lando was complicated and that they were just friends, but moments like this? They made her question everything. Why was she doing that?

She felt the burn of tears behind her eyes, but she blinked them away. No. She wasn’t going to let herself cry over this. Not yet.

Minnie sat up, looking over at her with a sympathetic glance. —It’s okay to miss him, you know. You don’t have to keep pretending like you don’t, especially when he’s out here doing shit like this to make you smile. He’s clearly into you, Ames. It’s obvious.—

Amelie shook her head, trying to play it off, but it was no use. Minnie was right. She hated that she was so stubborn. She hated that she couldn’t just let herself feel whatever this was between her and Lando. He was always there for her, even when they were miles apart. And yet, every time she started to let her guard down, she pulled away again.

—Yeah, well, he deserves someone who can...— she cut herself off, unsure how to finish the thought.

—Someone who can what?— Alex prodded.

—Someone who can give him more than I can. I don’t even know what I want, Alex. And it’s not fair to him if I can’t figure it out. I don’t want to hurt him. I just...— she swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. —I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.—

Minnie and Alex exchanged looks, both of them silently agreeing on something.

—You’re overthinking, Ames, like you always do.— Minnie said gently. —This isn’t some grand drama. You two are just figuring things out. But you can’t keep pretending that you don’t care about him. You care. And he cares. So, what are you gonna do about it?—

Amelie let out a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. The truth was, she did care. God, did she care. But she couldn’t let herself fall headfirst into something she wasn’t sure about. Not again. Not after what happened with Cam.

She glanced down at the bracelet again, her fingers tracing the tiny star charm. It was like Lando had picked up on every little thing that mattered to her. He hadn’t just sent her a generic gift. He’d sent her something meaningful, something that connected to her childhood, to her mom’s voice echoing in her ear when she was little.

—You’re right, I’m overthinking it.— she finally said, her voice barely a whisper. She turned to face her friends. —I just don’t know how to deal with... this. All of this. The mess I feel. The shit I’m not ready for.—

Alex crossed the room and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug. —Listen to me, Amelie. No one has it figured out. Not even Lando. He’s doing his best from Russia, and you’re here, celebrating your birthday with your best friends. Whatever happens next? You don’t have to have it all figured out today. You’ve got time.—

She nodded, but her heart still felt heavy with uncertainty. Everything felt like it was swirling around her. The gift, the way Lando had made an effort to make her feel loved from across the world, all the history between them, all the reasons why she was so damn scared to take the next step.

Minnie leaned forward from the bed, grinning mischievously. —Also, you need to send him a picture of that bracelet. Let him see how cute you look with it. It’ll drive him crazy. Trust me.—

Amelie couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in her chest easing just a little. —I’m not doing that.—

—Oh, you will. Don’t act like you’re not going to. That boy is wrapped around your finger, and you know it.— Minnie teased.

Amelie rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips was real. She looked down at the bracelet again, biting her lip. Maybe they were right. Maybe she had been running away from the one person who really understood her, the one person who made her feel... more. Maybe it was time to stop pretending.

But for tonight, at least, she was going to enjoy her birthday. With her best friends. And with the ridiculous, thoughtful, completely Lando surprise that had somehow made her feel closer to him, even though he was thousands of miles away.

—Okay, okay, maybe I will send him a picture.— she finally admitted, a small laugh escaping her.

—That’s my girl.— Alex said with a wink, and Amelie knew she’d made the right choice in letting herself relax, if only for tonight.

She took a deep breath, the weight of everything still present but a little easier to carry. Maybe tomorrow would bring more clarity. Maybe it wouldn’t. Either way, she had something to look forward to, and for the first time in a while, that didn’t feel so bad.

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

liked by shawnmendes, landonorris, and others

ameliedayman: another year older, another year of being absolutely unhinged 🤠🎂 spent my birthday at the happiest place on earth, which is fitting because I’m everyone’s favorite princess 👑 (except when I’m not)

p.s. I made Alex ride It’s a Small World and he almost cried, best gift ever 🎁💜

View all 94,328 comments

landonorris: So basically, you terrorized everyone in the park for your birthday? Sounds about right. → ameliedayman: @landonorris it’s what I deserve 🎂💅 → landonorris: @ameliedayman Remind me to never go with you. → ameliedayman: @landonorris oh please, you'd fold so fast if I asked.

f1tea: Not her calling herself everyone's favorite princess, and honestly... she's right. 👑 → speedyboi44: @f1tea Disney needs to make a movie about her atp

chaoticamelie: The way she really is just a real-life princess, like it’s so unfair

victoriadayman: You were the cutest little princess growing up, and now you’re still my favorite one. Happy birthday, baby ❤️ → ameliedayman: @victoriadayman love you, mama 🥹💜

lando4ever: OKAY BUT WHAT DID LANDO GET HER?? 👀 → paddockinsider: @lando4ever If it’s anything less than a castle, I don’t want it.

alexwolffofficial: You’re a menace, and I deserve financial compensation for that ride. → ameliedayman: @alexwolffofficial Your suffering was my real birthday gift. 🎁💖

minniemills: She forced us to wear matching Mickey ears. Send help. → ameliedayman: @minniemills Forced?? You looked adorable, Minnie. Accept it.

smallworldvictim: Justice for Alex, he did NOT deserve the psychological torture of It’s a Small World.

minniemills: Also, please note that Amelie spent half the day singing Disney songs dramatically. → ameliedayman: @minniemills WHEN YOU WISH UPON A STAAAAAAR 🎶 → alexwolffofficial: @ameliedayman I’m blocking you.

lanmelieforever: The way Lando probably FaceTimed her the whole day bc he had FOMO 😭 → softielando: @lanmelieforever He’s just happy she had fun, meanwhile he was probably sulking in Russia 😂

lando4life: LANDO COMMENTING FIRST IM CRYING HE DIDN’T EVEN HESITATE 😭 → paddockwatch: @lando4life He probably had the post notifs on let's be honest.

[myokk]

The Babbit siblings, Leonard & Eloise 🫶

Info about their dynamics/more about Leo:

This is also super dramatic😆 idk what sort of mood I was in when I made all of this up🙏

He’s one year older than Eloise. Ever since she was born, he’s been fiercely protective of her and loves her so much. His first year at Hogwarts, he kept sending her long letters about how amazing it was and how he was excited to show her everything the following year (even though it was all but assumed she was a squib, he still believed she would show magic & be admitted). Leonard was going to be such a proud big brother😭😭 not embarrassed about her at all but showing her off etc😭😭😭😭 The summer after his first year was the worst of his life. It was the summer Eloise was exiled from their family….he witnessed the whole thing…their mom completely lost it (á la Bellatrix) and would have killed Eloise if their father hadn’t intervened on time (but their father had watched and let it get to that point😔). Leo was left alone with a dying little sister and he didn’t know how to help her….he’d only JUST finished his first year of Hogwarts…and then she was taken away and their parents pretended like she had never existed. He had to as well…what else could a 12-year-old who’d been taught by birth to obey his parents do??

(it was IMPOSSIBLE to forget her…and yet he had to try bc the parents are really manipulative and emotionally abusive…and he was always raised to be the perfect son) And then when he returned to Hogwarts…he saw two twins who were also quiet and reminded him a lot of his sister. Their parents had just died and he kind of put his energy that he had been going to use to show Eloise everything etc into them and he became really close with them & Ominis. He and Ominis were also close because they have some experiences in common & honestly at the end of the day there isn’t that much difference in their ages) But then…after Anne was cursed Leo was DEVASTATED. He was going to lose another girl who was like a sister to him….bc of his parents he had never told them about Eloise (nobody except their family knew about her existence) and so he and Sebastian got into a HUGE fight. Because Sebastian had never heard of Eloise, when he saw that Leo was just as devastated as HE was… there was just no way that Leo could understand what he was going through, and Leo had no right to be affected as much as HE WAS😤

Like the dumb teenage boys they are, they couldn’t deal with their big emotions (Leo is also a lot like Eloise in that aspect probably bc of their parents…pushing away any uncomfortable emotions instead of dealing with them, until it builds and builds and he just explodes when they’re too much) and he and Sebastian took it out on each other and instead of talking they had a duel that almost killed each other😤😭😤😭 ever since then they’ve hated each other with a passion.

Pffffffff Eloise had no idea….she was really getting along with Sebastian but also wasn’t saying her last name at all and so the two of them had already started to kind of be friends before Sebastian found out that she was LEO’S SISTER😫😤😤 then he hated her too!! Bc he thought that she was in with her brother and they had worked together to TRICK HIM like a little evil inside joke…playing with Sebastian and his emotions like the previous yesr😔😔😔 (Obviously wasn’t the case, Sebastian just jumps to conclusions without thinking which is ALSO what happened when he and Leo had their huge fight😤)

But yeah now that Eloise is back Leo doesn’t know what to do….he recognized her immediately when she walked in the Great Hall to be sorted…🤯🤯 but he isn’t good with feeling emotions and neither is she and neither of them know how to recreate the close relationship they had as children😫😫

Leo is serious, quiet, bad with emotions, but when he lets someone in they are a part of his life forever (yes even Sebastian the dumbass)

Some excerpts from my fic that involve Leo 💓 it’s Eloise/Sebastian alternating POV, so this is all Eloise’s perspective:

“Leo had changed since Eloise last saw him. Of course he had, she thought to herself. It had been five years, after all. The same unruly black curls, same eyes. And yet…he almost seemed a stranger to her. He was taller, face more angular and defined than it had been at thirteen. Voice deeper. But, the expression of vulnerability and guilt written all over his face was something she recognized well. It was the same expression that he had the last time he saw her, the face she sometimes saw before falling asleep. Just as quickly as it flashed across his face however, it was gone, hidden behind a stony exterior. His expression hardened and he sat down just as quickly as he had stood up, averting his eyes. The students sitting around him were looking between the two of them curiously but before Eloise could begin to process this new situation, she felt a gentle push on her shoulder.”

“Her relationship with her brother had always had an undercurrent of fear running through it. No matter how hard she tried as a child, there was always something she had done wrong, and Leo was always there to protect her. Or try to, anyway. The two of them had always lived under the shadow of their parents’ abuse and didn’t know any other way of relating to each other.

But here, with Anne, Leo was murmuring apologies into her hair as she cried, reassuring and comforting her in a way he had never been able to with his own sister.

Eloise felt sick. Sick at seeing them, sick at her own jealousy. Had Leo replaced her with Anne - that year when Eloise was supposed to join Hogwarts - to try and cover the bitter disappointment of not being able to proudly show off his younger sister? They had spent so many nights that summer before her Hogwarts letter never came, sneaking out to the garden late at night, Leo reassuring her that she would be fine and telling her about all of the magic and wonder at Hogwarts that was waiting for her. He promised her that she could sit with him on the train, that he wouldn’t be embarrassed by her.

And then…

Turning away from the two of them, Eloise headed towards the apples. She hated the emotions roiling around inside of her. She should be happy. She had saved Anne, and now things were going to go back to normal, how they were before she arrived. Eloise trailed her hand on the back of the couch, trying to focus on the feeling of soft velvet, calm her racing emotions.”

If you read all of this….You’re amazing & I love you🥹💓🥹💓 tbh I have MORE about the two of them & their family, but this was already getting so long😵‍💫

[mystxmomo]

can you…write…kevgar… again.. please…

im not asking for a 100k words, 100 is enough for me.. please…

😭💔😭☹️☹️🥺😭😭💔😭eyyeus eueue 😭💔🥺🥺

Okay so like. I do actually want to come back and write something once this event wraps up, because I'm genuinely kind of baffled at how much we're being... like given? It's sparking some ideas. No promises on it though because I need to write being carried by the muses and the tides.

Edit: Also this art at the bottom is REALLY cute I forgot to mention it at first. Thank you for. Letting me see them....

Anyway. I can do you one better than 100 words. Back in like. 2022, I was working on a massive Hanahaki Kevgar AU. I ended up dropping it because I explored what I was interested in with "As the pieces fall into place" (Aka erectile dysfunction au) and was pretty happy with what I had + I think I used chunks of this dialog in that fic (So if some of that looks familiar thats why). However, I also had like. A REALLY NOT INSIGNIFICANT part of this fic written?

Thought it would sit around and collect dust forever in my docs, but you and I both know how sad the state of the Kevgar tag is in. Here's what I had of it put together. Again, I can't stress enough. This is unfinished. But it's also uhhh. Almost 5k words of unfinished? So hopefully some of it still scratches at your brain, even if it's just a draft.

"Original Authors note: 

Hello there main friend group, extended twitter friendgroup, and three random strangers in my puter that this pairing will appeal to, I hope this fic finds you well.

Basically, I saw a tumblr post maybe a year or two back that talked about the idea of Hanahaki not as a lethal disease, but instead a chronic one. The idea that it’s a manifestation of your emotions, and your emotions aren’t going to kill you, but by damn they’re gonna be a bitch to deal with. Especially if you keep shoving them down in a little box and avoiding them. 

Basically the flowers are a metaphor. It takes away from the tragedy but adds an angle of nuance that I as a writer find personally enjoyable to navigate and play with.

AND I thought to myself. Man you know who would be fun for that? Gay Kevin."

===================

Edgar Valden is real pretty, is the main thing.

Frustratingly so. Men, let alone men with personalities as rotten and cruel as Valden’s shouldn’t be allowed to be as pretty as he is. 

But he is, and it’s an issue. 

He’s also. Ah… Small. Frail enough to tug at Kevin’s heart strings in a way he’s not entirely comfortable with. He catches himself thinking about that mid-match, Edgar dizzy enough from a recent hit not to fight being carted around on his shoulder. A head smaller than Kevin, and lighter than some of the ladies, Edgar is easy on his arm and warm against his shoulder.

The first time he realizes it, the illusion is immediately ruined by Edgar catching his barings, and begins to kick and struggle out of his hold and cuss him clean. But a sickly, uncomfortable feeling settles in his stomach, and eventually even the most private of Kevin’s thoughts always have a funny way of haunting him. It’s easy to hate him when he’s standing in front of you, sneering and glaring like the bullheaded swine he is. But out on their game field, when the adrenaline runs so heavy his blood goes cold, and Edgar is flying around the field with the same amount of speed and dedication that he takes to his art, it becomes harder to separate pretty from fragile. And late into the night, when Kevin’s thoughts have a tendency to haunt him the most, there’s no escaping it. He prefers it to the guilt that plagues the back of his mind at those hours, but it sits at the pit of his stomach with the same amount of discomfort and nausea as that guilt does. And that guilt, inevitably, turns to rage.

And rage always comes back to frustration. 

When he starts hacking up petals and blood, he doesn’t think it’s Valden. He doesn’t think it’s anyone, really. 

//

Emily tells him that it’s called Hanahaki.

“I’m surprised you’ve never encountered it before,” She says, as a general musing.

“I’ve heard of things like it,” He says, “You tend to hear a lot of rumors n’ stories while travelin’ around. You can’t take everything at face value, y’know? Thought it was closer to tall-tales.”

She nods, her brows furrowing together. She tends to get like that when she’s deep in thought. Sort of snappy, and certainly less patient. But she hasn’t gotten to the point that she gets after they finish their matches, running around like a chicken with her head cut off. Instead, it’s quiet pacing.

“Our body has an odd way of reacting to…” She tilts her head, carefully considers her words before she says them. She’s smart like that, “Emotions. Stress. Eventually, it manifests itself physically,” She gives him a concerned look, “Has there been any changes in your life?”

He gives her a weird look. Permanent state of stasis they seemed to be trapped in, their changes were rare and minimal. He had less games these days then when he’d started here, and most of the new personalities at the manor were a respectable sort. To his silence, she almost rolls her eyes. Almost. She’s professional enough not to.

“Ayuso, it could be anything. Have the games been worse recently?” He gives her a stranger look for that one, and she tuts, runs her hands back through her hair and messes up her otherwise pristine looking bun, “Honestly, I’m surprised we haven’t gotten a case of it in the manor sooner. Maybe because of how isolated we are..?” She considers it in silence, and Kevin thinks it would be wrong to interrupt her. But then she’s turning to look at him, “Can I see those petals again?”

Raising a brow, he takes out the handkerchief he’d collected them in. It’s from a personal favorite outfit of his, and at first he’s not actually sure what she’s looking for. Because she brushes the petals off to the side, and raises the cloth to the light, and what she says next concerns him more than anything else about the conversation has, “It’s an abnormal amount of blood for such a minor case,” She mutters, stares, “You did come to me immediately, right?”

He huffs laughter. His throat hurts, “‘Course, course. I didn’t see petals and think it was normal.”

She glares, “Don’t get smart with me, Ayuso. I swear, some of these people could come down with consumption and avoid me for it…” She sighs, and her shoulders fall, “Is it growing thorns…?” 

“Is that possible?” He asks, and feels somewhat foolish for doing so. Of course it is. She wouldn’t have mentioned it if it hadn’t been.

“It’s not unheard of,” She says, and steps forward to hand him the handkerchief back. When she looks over at him again, it’s with a certain amount of sympathy he rarely sees on her face, “You should be fine, but…I won’t say it will be pleasant.”

He chuckles, and it comes across as weak and forced, “Ms. Dyer, I may be something of a foolish man, but I don’t think anyone is foolish enough think flowers in your throat are a’pleasant experience.”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Let me see what medicine I can find. I might be able to kill a few of them off for you…”

//

He doesn’t want to acknowledge his unfortunate reality, but the first time he vomits up fist fulls of flowers, he’s in a match with Valen

It’s not a good match. Emily goes down fast. Kevin doesn’t have time to get across the map. Mike tries to pull off a rescue, but Michiko is faster than he is, and a bit more clever to boot. Edgar manages to pull something off with those paintings of his, but Kevin’s never been any good with the technology in the manor, and by the time Emily’s out of the game they barley have two ciphers done.

With Michiko distracted by Mike, it gives him the chance to slip away with Edgar. He knows Edgar took a bad hit, because he stays limp over his shoulder rather than attempt to fight and squirm against him.

(He’s warm, something whispers in Kevin’s ear.)

“There you are,” Kevin draws, and drops him on the ground with no amount of care or subtlety. Edgar stumbles back a few steps, attempting to blink away the lightheadedness that comes with these matches.

“... Thanks,” Edgar says, quietly, and brushes himself off at the knees. Though he’s doing well to hide it, he has an embarrassed blush on his face, and he needs to lean back against the crumbling wall to keep his balance. 

Kevin reaches out to steady him a bit better, and Edgar shoots him a look that could kill. 

“Go decode, I’ll catch my breath and find a way to distract her again,” Edgar turns to give him an odd sort of look, the normal irritation that shadows over his face mending away to something else entirely. Though what it is, he’s unsure, “We can probably still save this if I…” He’s trailing off, a distant, manic look to his eye as he does. It answers none of Kevin’s questions, and only increases his concern, and when Edgar kneels on the ground it’s to fuss with something in his hand.

He’d not noticed it before, but the painter already has a syringe in his hand. He must have scavenged the supplies from Dyer's chair, because he’s already trying to find a vein with shaking, cold-nipped looking fingers.

And like a pendulum swinging back and forth, his irritation washes back to sympathy. And with that sympathy comes guilt, and nausea. 

Kevin steps forward, and grabs his arm for him. Edgar immediately tries to pull away, but Kevin is stronger than him, and it only takes tightening his grip to get Edgar to still. Edgar squirms under his touch, and something in Kevin’s head equates him to being no different than one of those squeaking barn kittens that didn’t know threats from friends and so they yelled and hissed at anything that grabbed ‘em.

“Hold still,” he says, his voice strained, and Edgar does glare at him this time, “Save the supplies. Y’might need it later.”

Edgar lets him. Patch him up. He can’t argue with strategy, and their playing field is the uncomfortable equalizer. To Kevin’s discomfort, Edgar spends the entire time staring at him with this ugly, uncanny look.

…

“You’re hurt,” Edgar says, suddenly, and reaches out to grab Kevin’s face. Edgar’s hands are soft, and but his touch is not. His thumb brushes against his mouth, and he’s surprised to find that it comes back with blood. He doesn’t remember tasting it. Maybe he’s already so used to it, that he’d just not noticed it, “When did you take a hit?”

A smarter man would be able to come up with an excuse on the spot. It’s not unusual, afterall, to end the match covered in your teammates blood. Especially ones that run as poorly as there’s. Especially with Kevin’s position being as it is.

Kevin is not a smart man. He’s dull, and a coward.

“I’m fine,” He snaps, and pulls back from Edgar. Feeling suddenly quite defensive, he feels his lips curl up in defiance. It’s all show, really. Because underneath it, he can’t deny the sudden surge of nerves and panic and fear. He’s never been any different or any smarter than a cornered animal, but most men in his position aren’t.

 Edgar’s hand lingers in the air, fingers oddly delicate despite the blood. And Edgar stares at him. He stares at him for a long time, his eyes distant and hollow and cold, “Okay,” He says, and his tone is odd when he says it. Like Edgar doesn’t entirely believe him. And when Kevin thinks he’s going to leave it at that, he clarifies with, “Okay. You don’t have to tell me. Whatever. Just- Go decode. Maybe I can still save this for us, you useless asshole…” 

And Edgar trails off, stares at the spot of the snow where his own blood has dripped on the snow. 

There’s no fight left in him after that. There should be. This is the part where Kevin normally feels anger and discomfort at the mans provocation, where they ruin their match and draw the hunters ire. It’s normally the part where irritation takes over sensability.

Instead, Kevin stumbles away feeling nauseous. He doesn’t decode. Decoding would be the smart thing to do, and he is not a smart man. A cold sweat crawls over his skin, and he’s shaking hard enough that he’s having trouble staying upright. He feels it, in his throat and in his gut. Something cutting into his flesh, like the way a cats claws would dig into skin.

He makes it behind shack, before he needs to stop and stable his weight on the wall.

It’s petals and blood mix on the ground in a ugly red soup, chunky and red with rotting petals and cuts of flesh. He wheezes in an attempt to catch his breath, but he finds himself dizzy for it. Eventually, he needs to kneel on the ground and rest his head against the wall, unable to keep his eyes open without risking another fit. The cold weather of Leo’s is as much of a sting as it is a comfort on his throat and skin. And just when he thinks he’s settled his head, he lurches again, the cycle repeating all over.

He doesn’t realize the blood rushing in his ear is the hunter until he feels her cold hand on his back.

“Oh dear..” Michiko says, and her voice is soft on his ear, “This is where you’ve been hiding.”

Michiko is a sweet sort of lady. She doesn’t take the chance to knock him out over it. Instead, she lingers behind him and ushers him in the direction the dungeon must be, stopping him from falling over himself twice in the process

He’d not realized she’d found Edgar. She must have. By the time she guides him over to the dungeon, it’s already open, the wind blowing out of it. He drops into the dungeon without as much as a tip of his hat, and there's this cold, empty feeling that sits in the bottom of his stomach.

Valden was going to kill him.

// Editors note: These next sections are unfinished, but I still give everything I had for you. Anything that has a "...." Around it was supposed to have more of a lead in.

Edgar doesn’t kill him.

But also Edgar doesn’t talk to him for a while, after that.

He doesn’t talk to him. He expects a fight out of it, but he stumbles into the room so pale and dizzy that it draws the concern of Emily immediately. 

[Edgar picks a fight with Emily because he's confused and irritated]

“Come on now Valden, don’t give her a hard time ‘cause you’re in a shitty mood,” He steps in between them, and Edgar snarls at him.

“Don't fucking touch me,"

...

Something clicks into place in Emily’s gaze, something Kevin barely catches himself. She looks at the two of them. Opens her mouth to say something. A scolding, maybe.

Then closes it, her eyebrows furrowing.

//

The first time he coughs up a stem, he cuts up his throat so badly he can’t talk.

Perhap's its for the best. He feels uncharacteristically irritable about the whole thing, as the rose thorns hook into his throat and restrict his breath.....

“Ayuso…?” Edgar calls out, and he sounds surprisingly… small. It pisses him off. 

“Just-” Kevin draws in a long breath, holding his head in his hands, 

Edgar lingers in the doorway for a few seconds, blinking dully. He looks away, “I was going to ask if you’re alright.” He says, sounding short with him. “I thought….” He trails off, stares at him for a long time. His gaze burns into Kevin’s skin

“Nevermind,” Edgar grumbles, and pushes past him. It’s with a harsh shove, and some smarter part of Kevin thinks he might deserve it. But some ugly, more stubborn part of him only makes him angrier. 

//

....

“Of course I know what hanahaki is,” Edgar says, and the door closes with more force the necessary, “The droll hopeless romantics in the arts don’t know how to shut up about it.”

“You don’t hate me?” Kevin’s heart swells.

“Why would I hate you?” Edgar wrinkles his nose at him, “You’re annoying, and I wish you’d learn how to shut the hell up. But thats really not different than any of the other dumbasses that populate this manor."

Unsure of whether or not to be relieved or to scold the man, Kevin laughs. He feels light headed.

“Want to hear somethin’ funny?” Kevin doesn't wait for a reply, “I don’t…. think I hate you.”

Edgar takes a moment to process that. Then laughs at him. Loudly, and full body. It’s sharp on his ear, and as ugly as it is pretty. Perfect, for a man like Valden, “That's what you’re so worked up about?” He asks, and steps forward to look him over. 

“You’re fuckin’-”

“You’re throwing around children's insults and throwing up flower petals over the fact you might not hate me. Ayuso that’s- Ridiculous. Tell me you see how ridiculous that is,” He says, and his smile is hidden behind his hand. Kevin feels ill looking at it. Because even when he’s mocking him, that smile causes his stomach to turn and nerves to creep under his skin. 

(His smile is, while at first perplexed, otherwise sincere. It’s something rare to see on the man.)

And he- he doesn’t understand. Edgar doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand what this means for Kevin, he doesn’t understand the severity of that acknowledgement. 

Kevin barely understands what this means for himself. 

Kevin lunges forward and grabs him by the shirt. He kisses him.

Edgar looks startled. At first, he panics, and Kevin has acute awareness of the way his hand grabs at his shirt and wrist. He doesn’t pull away

But eventually, he calms as Kevin does. His hand moves from his chest to his jaw, cupping his cheek like it actually means something to him. His hands are soft, and Kevin’s are not. Kevin’s lips are chapped, and Edgar’s are sweet. It causes guilt and disgust to rest in his gut all the same, and instead of rage, it just sinks and sits there. 

When he pulls away, Edgar is giving him a distant, careful look. 

Kevin stares at him with exhaustion, pale in the face and ill in the stomach.

“Oh. You taste like blood. Come here.” Edgar says, and his hand lingers on top of Kevin’s wrist, on his cheek, thumb against the corner of his lip,

Edgar kisses him again. It doesn’t help, but Kevin still indulges in it like it does.

...

When Kevin breaks away, he’s shaking.

Guilt. Disgust. Anger. Discomfort. There are butterflies in his stomach, like the first time [his lady I forgot her name] grabbed his hand and smiled at him.

Fuck.

He pulls away, and he vomits.

Edgar is quiet this time. There’s no mockery, and no cruelty. He watches him with a blank expression on his face, hand drifting like he's unsure whether or not he wants to touch him again. Then, he kneels down next to him. A warm body against his side, a soft hand on his back, rubbing right up between his shoulder blades.

“Hey,” Edgar says, “Go to bed, Ayuso. We can talk later.”

His eyes burn.

Edgar helps him over into bed, and sits on the edge of it until he falls asleep. 

They don’t talk about it.

//

He tries to talk to Patricia about it.

“Mother once told me that love was something you chose to do. People think they fall in love. And maybe there’s some honesty to that. But love is conditional. It’s as much of a choice as cruelty,” Patricia says. She looks toward him, frowns, “But I will admit. You seem to have been born strictly to challenge that idea.”

Kevin can’t help himself. A smile hesitantly pulls onto his lips, and he says, “Y’think?”

“That’s not a compliment. Moron,” Her tongue clicks against her teeth, but her eyes soften on him.

“I don’t know. It sort of sounded like one.”

...

"Listen, Kevin. And I am begging you to listen closely. Because I'm going to tell you something I wish, more then anything, someone had told me," She struts forward, placing her hands on either side of his cheek. The touch is gentle, but firm, guiding his gaze to hers. She has to gaze up at him to look him in the eye, but when that meets, hers narrows on his with an almost predatory look.

But then it falls. Her lips twitch down, and her hands fall, "It's okay."

He laughs, "That's it?"

She considers her next words carefully. Instead of snapping back at him, there's a patient, creeping look to her eye, "It's okay that you're uncomfortable with this."

And his blood runs cold.

Something must change about his expression, then. Because she sways forward again, closer than before. She swallows, slow and collected, "It's okay to feel disgusted with yourself, and it's okay to feel guilty. That's outside of your control. I need you to think about that, because I know you don't understand it. What you're feeling now is- it's fine. It's just... Fine. But if you sit there and let it eat you alive then you're better off dead."

....

He coughs.

And coughs again, . He’s struck with a sudden wave of exhaustion.

He ... Sits down. He feels winded.

He holds his head in his hands.

"I don't think this was ever about Valden," He says, and his hand scratches at his throat.

"Maybe not," Patricia shrugs, "Maybe it was. You'll have to be the one to figure that out.”

//

He extends an olive branch.

"Do you wanna come drinkin' with me tonight," Kevin asks, and he holds back a grimace as he asks. 

Edgar looks at him weirdly, "Not really," He says, too fast for Kevin's heart to handle. But then he continues. Not in any consideration of Kevin’s immediate heartbreak, but because he muses outloud to himself more than he doesn’t, "It gets too loud in Demi's bar. That room is too damn small sometimes. That doesn't sound even remotely relaxing."

Kevin pauses.

"It can just be us," he offers, and takes a small step forward, "I ain't exactly picky about where I drink. If the bar is too loud I can come on up to your room, or you can come up to mine."

"..." Edgar turns to look at him, and his gaze glimmers with a curious interest, "Why don't you come by my studio tonight with some wine."

For a minute, the guilt in his heart is replaced by those soft, lovely butterflies that scatter and crawl about. 

“Alright.”

//

....

“Oh, it’s you,” Edgar wipes away the paint off his arms, and nods him into the room. Kevin offers him a suspicious, quiet look, but steps forward.

“Hurt my heart, Valden. Soundin’ so disappointed I showed up.”

“I didn’t actually think you would,” Edgar says, like an admittance, “Sit down.”

Kevin does.

“I hope you don’t mind if I paint you while we drink,” Edgar says, pouring the wine Kevin brought into two cups. And Kevin - he grunts.

“Now I didn’t exactly remember that bein’ part of the deal.”

“Sucks.”

Edgar extends the cup out for him to take. Kevin does. Their fingers brush, and Kevin’s entire arm buzz with the nerves that come from it.

Edgar works in silence, for the most part. It’s awkward, and uncomfortable. Kevin falls into sharp coughing fits, and Edgar without fail will wrinkle his nose at him, come on over, and wordlessly tilt his head back to the position he wants him in. His touches are soft, and careful. Calculated in a way that Kevin doesn’t often see on him. The wine aside, Edgar has tea prepared for him, which surprises him. Given that Kevin arrived so late, it’s mostly luke-warm. Edgar doesn’t bother mentioning or apologizing for that. 

He finishes off a glass of wine. Then another. It just further succeeds in giving him that uncomfortable, sticky feeling he’s never been good at handling.

Edgar stares at him, and Kevin feels that gaze crawling across his skin. The room isn’t warm, but it might as well be.

“I’ve never been good at portraits,” Edgar admits to him, suddenly, his gaze lowering to his pallet. Kevin waits for him to continue, but realizes that on his on he probably won’t.

Despite himself, he prompts him.

....

His gaze is tired. His figure is stiff, “I’m not good at this, Ayuso. I’ve never been good at this. So I’ll be forward. I don’t know why you’re here, and it’s really hard to convince myself of any explanation that seems reasonable.”

Kevin's throat itches. Edgar looks up at him.

“What are you asking me, then?”

“I don’t know.” Kevin says, “I don’t even really know what I want outt’a this, if I’m bein’ honest with you.”

Edgar rubs his eyes. It seems tired, “Fuck me, you’re so fucking stupid sometimes,”

Kevin feels that anger, that kneejerk horror, and he moves to stand. There’s a snarl on his lip before he knows it, as the embarrassment passes over him

“No, no. Jesus- Get that look off your face, I wasn’t insulting you. You just- Are.” Edgar’s jaw sets. His paintbrush slams down, and with it, Kevin stills. He looks like he has a headache, “You are.” He repeats, sharply, and more firm.

“How is callin’ me stupid not an insult?!” 

“What else am I supposed to call you when you act like this!?” 

Kevin stares at him in disbelief, and Edgar throws his hands up in the air. He holds his head in his hands and closes his eyes, and there’s this short, uncomfortable silence between the two of them. It passes. It always passes. 

Kevin gets up to leave.

Edgar catches his hand and stare at him. Kevin hadn't realized he could move that fast, or maybe that he'd been approaching him to begin with. Kevin turns to snap at him, but when their eyes meet he feels it all die out.

“Sit down,” Edgar says

Kevin.... sits.

[The note in my drafts here just said "Second Base" With no other context]

He feels. Guilt. For for wanting him like this. 

And, above all else, guilt at placing himself in Edgar’s life. Guilt for his feelings.

He coughs. 

Kevin nudges Edgar off of him, and for a moment Edgar’s eyes flash with panic and - To Kevin’s mild horror, betrayal. But Kevin doesn’t have time to sit on it. He rolls over and, as he’s become so accustomed to, hacks and coughs until vomit and blood and whole flowers pool out of his mouth. At first in chunks, and then and into a puddle on the otherwise clean cloth. It tastes like rot in his mouth, stinks like the mush thrown at hogs. 

When he comes back down from it all, Edgar is next to him folded on his knee’s. He has a hand between his shoulder blades, tracing sweet little lines into his back. 

When Kevin breath’s again, he’s surprised. 

His hand is still near his mouth, covered in the ugly [visceral] and gore. 

Kevin think’s Edgar will leave him as he did before, especially when he leaves his side and mumbles about not needing to do anything tonight. But to his surprise, he comes back. He has a rag in his hand, stained by paint but otherwise clean, and a cup of water. Edgar takes his hands between his own again and mindfully begin to clean it. His nose wrinkles up when his hands touch a little too close to the gunk, but to Kevin’s surprise, he still works to clean them.

It’s been a while since anyone’s done that for Kevin.

He feels emptier for it.

...

“Didn’t think someone like you would have the stomach for this,” Kevin says, eventually, when his body no longer betrays him.

“... My sister used to get sick when she was younger,” Edgar says, 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” He looks ahead, rather than at Kevin, “The maids were supposed to take care of her, but I…” Edgar trails off, his fingers twitching. Kevin doesn’t push him about it. He has a few stories of his own that he wouldn’t want told.

“Sorry ‘bout your uh-” 

Edgar looks down at the vile, and wrinkles his nose, “Why are you apologizing? It’s just spare bedsheets. They were probably Balsa’s anyway,” 

They sit in silence.

Kevin is the one to leave.

//

What he hates most, he thinks, is that Edgar isn’t wrong. Kevin can’t deny his own attraction to the man at this point. That’s why he was here, wasn’t it? And there’s such shame in that. He was better than that. 

He doesn’t have a defense for himself. He says, "Is it hard to believe I find you kind of- I don’t know. You’re interesting?"

Edgar's nose wrinkles. His face blanks over. God that's - infuriating. He does that when he realizes he's not going to be getting his way, that he's maybe not as right as he thought he was. Kevin knows this because Kevin's argued with him before, "What could you possibly find fascinating about me?"

“I don’t know yet,” He answers, weakly, and Edgar gives him a look with disbelief so thick he can cut through it. His throat feels dry. Not even the stuffy, clogged dry that could get him out of this, but instead an uncomfortable, distant feeling that has him falling silent and still. He wants to raise his hands up and touch them to the other man's shoulders, but just as much, he finds his hand paralyzed at his sides.

Edgar tries to take pity on him.

“Ayuso, that’s not- It’s not an accusation,” Edgar says, slowly, “It’s just what it is.”

Kevin draws a long breath in. It's patient, and careful, "You were okay with me using you like that?"

"You weren't using me," Edgar sounds annoyed, but there’s confusion there, "I want to fuck you. If I didn’t want to fuck you, I wouldn’t be here.”

Kevin flinches at the vulgarity of it. Maybe it's just how sharply it contrasts the emotions of the conversation, but he - He does flinch.

...

Edgar steps closer, so that they can sit next to one another. He's still and uncomfortable. "Okay."

Kevin laces their fingers together.

There's no guilt for that.