#i had a lot of trouble with it but once i kept pushing i got somewhere i rlly liked

[deuynndoodles]

hear me out, are you open to pokemon charaters? if so maybe an ingo/emmet or a Kieran? or eleasa. if not maybe wolf link or minda? feel free to pick which ever seems the most fun to draw. I just have a lot of characters(sorry)

[id: an uncolored, digital drawing of link and midna from twilight princess. link is in his wolf form and midna is upon his back. link is running, midleap, and midna leans in to brace herself. end id]

i've been wanting to draw wolf link for a hot sec anyway, thanks for the excuse

[ma1dita]

bedtime stories

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it.

At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, Trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend.

Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

ask to be added to luke/general taglist!

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[theonottsbxtch]

WHATS LEFT BEHIND PT.2 | MV1

an: guys my time off is coming to an end, i move to france next week and start my job the week after rip me but in the mean time enjoy this badboy i've been sitting on

summary: when max verstappen left his childhood girlfriend behind to face her career ending injury alone to chase his dreams of being the best bull rider the country has ever seen, he thought it would be easy. except it wasn't, he was back in town and they hated him, for one reason. they hurt their star barrel racer.

wc: 6k

part one

Max pushed open the door to The Rusty Wheel, the familiar creak of its hinges greeting him like an old memory. The low hum of country music drifted from the jukebox in the corner, and the faint smell of spilled beer and worn leather hung in the air. Not much had changed since the last time he’d stepped foot in here, years ago—except, maybe, for the fact that now every pair of eyes in the place was on him.

He ran a hand through his hair and walked over to the bar, pausing only long enough to hang his cowboy hat on one of the hooks by the door. He used to come here every weekend, same as the rest of them. He hadn’t expected the town to change much—but somehow, it felt smaller now. Tighter. Like it didn’t quite fit him anymore.

Before he could take a seat, the owner, Earl, stepped out from behind the bar. Earl was a grizzled old cowboy, his flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves, a white beard flecked with grey. He stopped in his tracks, wiping his hands on a rag, and gave Max a once-over, his face creasing with disbelief.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Earl muttered, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t believe it when they told me.”

Max chuckled softly, not missing the edge in Earl’s voice. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“You actually back for good?” Earl asked, still eyeing him like he was trying to decide if he was a mirage.

Max shrugged. “Looks that way.”

Earl grunted, leaning his hands on the bar. “Guess we’ll see how that works out.”

Before Max could reply, a figure appeared beside him, sliding a bottle of beer across the counter. Max glanced up and saw Daniel—his best friend from back in the day—giving him a smirk as he set the beer down. Daniel was leaner now, with a few more lines around his eyes, but he still had the same mischievous glint that had gotten them into trouble as kids.

Daniel raised an eyebrow as he wiped down the bar. “Bold move, man,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, really bold.”

Max took the beer, the cold glass sweating in his grip. “Figured it was time.”

Daniel leaned against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well, half the people in this town think you’ve got some nerve coming back after what you did to her.”

Max’s stomach clenched, but he kept his face neutral. He knew it wouldn’t take long for that topic to come up. “And the other half?” he asked, taking a swig from the bottle.

Daniel snorted. “They’re just in awe of what you’ve done with your career. Hell, I’ll admit it—I followed your rides. Man, some of those bulls you took on… I thought you were insane, but you sure made a name for yourself.”

Max nodded, setting the bottle back down on the bar. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

Daniel tilted his head, studying him. “That right? Because last time I checked, you were in all the magazines, got sponsors throwing money at you, and about a million followers watching your every move. That doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

Max sighed, leaning his elbows on the bar. “It was great for a while. But the thing is, they don’t see the rest of it. The part where you wake up and don’t know where you are half the time. Or when you’re trying to remember which interviews you’ve already done or whose hand you shook at some event you didn’t even want to go to.” He shook his head, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “Everyone thinks they want that life until they get it.”

Daniel didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched him, the silence between them hanging heavy. Then, after a beat, he nodded. “So why’d you come back? You finally get sick of signing autographs?”

Max’s eyes drifted to the shelves of dusty bottles behind the bar, memories of a simpler life flooding back. The long nights in places like this, where the biggest problem he had was getting enough cash together to fill his tank. Where people knew him as Max, not Max Verstapppen, the famous bull rider plastered on posters across the country.

“Something like that,” he said quietly. “I was never cut out for that big city stuff. The lights, the cameras… all of it.” He paused, running a hand along the neck of the beer bottle, feeling the condensation slick against his skin. “I missed home. The quiet. The way things made sense out here.”

Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. “Home, huh?” He let out a slow breath. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad to see you. Always hoped you’d come back. But you know it’s not going to be easy. People here… they don’t forget.”

Max’s jaw tightened, his grip on the bottle a little firmer. “Yeah, I know.”

Daniel stared at him for a long moment, and then his expression softened, some of the teasing edge fading from his voice. “She’s still hurt, you know. Even if she doesn’t show it. You coming back… it’s gonna stir up a lot of things.”

“I figured that,” Max replied, his voice low, almost resigned. “But I had to come back anyway.”

Daniel nodded, his eyes softening. “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing. You’ve got a lot of work to do, man.”

Max took another swig of beer, the cool liquid doing nothing to settle the unease that had been bubbling in his gut since the moment he’d driven into town. “Trust me,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, “I know.”

The sound of the front door creaking open interrupted the conversation, and Max glanced over his shoulder to see a group of locals walking in, laughing and chatting as they made their way to a corner booth. He recognised some of them, faces he hadn’t seen in years, but he wasn’t ready for more conversations, more questions.

Turning back to Daniel, he nodded toward the bar. “Mind if I hang here for a while?”

Daniel smiled, a knowing glint in his eye. “Stay as long as you need. Just don’t expect the town to make it easy on you.”

Max nodded in appreciation, as he sipped his beer, letting the familiar hum of the bar settle around him. The chatter, the music, the faint clink of bottles—it all felt like a song from a time he thought he’d forgotten. But he hadn’t. Not really.

He’d been running from home for so long, he’d forgotten what it felt like to just stand still. And now that he was back, he wasn’t sure what hurt more—the memories of what he’d lost, or the fear of facing the woman he’d left behind.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, Max stepped out of his truck, the early sun casting long shadows across the gravel driveway of High Ride Stables, Austin. The familiar scent of hay, leather, and horses filled the air, stirring memories he hadn’t thought of in years. It was a place he knew well—he’d worked here as a kid, mucking out stalls and helping with the horses. But today, the barn felt different, like the weight of his past was waiting for him inside.

He pushed open the large wooden door, the creak announcing his arrival. Inside, horses shuffled in their stalls, and the rhythmic thud of hooves echoed from deeper within. He glanced around, spotting the counter near the back where Leslie, the barn’s owner, was talking to one of the stable hands.

Leslie had been running this barn for as long as he could remember. She was tough as nails, with streaks of grey in her otherwise jet-black hair and a sharp gaze that could cut through any excuse. The stable hands called her “Les” when she wasn’t listening—if she caught them at it, they'd regret it.

When she saw him, her conversation trailed off, and her expression hardened. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the counter, eyeing him like he’d just tracked mud through her pristine barn.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” Leslie drawled, raising an eyebrow. “If it ain’t the hometown hero.”

Max tried to smile, but it fell flat. He took off his hat and held it in front of him. “Morning, Les.”

“Morning,” she replied, her tone flat. “What brings you here?”

“I’m lookin’ for work,” he said, stepping closer, but staying on the other side of the counter like it was a barrier between them. Which, in a way, it was.

Leslie’s eyes narrowed. “Work?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “After all that bull riding fame and fortune, you’re back here beggin’ for a job?”

“Not beggin’,” he muttered, his voice low. “Just askin’.”

She pushed herself off the counter, walking around it and standing toe-to-toe with him, hands on her hips. “Same difference.”

“Come on, Les,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You know how it goes. The fame doesn’t last forever. Sponsors move on, injuries pile up… and the money—well, it dwindles. I can’t live off my bull riding winnings for the rest of my life.”

She crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. “Sounds like a ‘you’ problem, not a ‘me’ problem.”

Max sighed, glancing around the barn, trying to find the right words. “I grew up here, working in this barn. I know horses, I know the work. You know I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.”

Leslie tilted her head, considering him for a moment. “You really expect me to just hand you a job, after everything?”

He frowned, confused. “After everything?”

She shot him a knowing look. “Don’t play dumb with me, Max. You know who works here.”

His stomach sank, realising where this conversation was heading. Of course, she worked here—why wouldn’t she? It was her world. She’d never left it, never had a reason to. But that didn’t make this any easier.

“I’m not lookin’ to cause any trouble, Les. I just need work,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ll stay out of her way.”

Leslie raised an eyebrow. “Stay out of her way? You can’t just waltz back into this town, askin’ for a job, and think you can just avoid her. This is a small town, boy, not some city where you can hide from the people you’ve wronged.”

Max winced at the word “wronged.” It was blunt, but he couldn’t argue with it. He had wronged her. Maybe more than he even realised.

He took a deep breath, meeting Leslie’s gaze. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt her. But… I need this job, Les. Please.”

Leslie studied him for a long moment, her face unreadable. Then, she turned and walked back to the counter, rummaging through a drawer before pulling out a small notepad. She scribbled something down on it, then tore off the piece of paper and held it out to him.

“Here’s the deal,” she said, her voice cool and matter-of-fact. “I’ll give you a job if you go apologise to her. And not just any apology—she has to forgive you.”

Max stared at her, not taking the paper. His heart raced, a mixture of panic and disbelief. “Les, that’s impossible.”

Leslie crossed her arms again, looking at him with the same steel-eyed determination she always had. “Well, if you think it’s impossible, you don’t want this job bad enough.”

His eyes flicked to the paper in her hand, knowing exactly what was written on it. He didn’t need to look to know it was her address.

“You know she’s not gonna forgive me,” he said quietly, feeling the weight of the past like a stone in his gut.

Leslie gave him a half-smile, but there was no softness in it. “Well, you better get working, boy.”

Max finally took the paper from her hand, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should. He looked down at the address, familiar yet distant, as if it belonged to another lifetime.

“I’m serious,” Leslie said, her voice softening just a bit. “You want a job here? You’ve gotta make things right with her. I won’t have you causing more mess in this barn—or in this town. Either she forgives you, or you pack your bags and keep drivin’.”

Max swallowed hard, tucking the paper into his back pocket. He wanted to argue, to tell her that there was no way in hell she’d ever forgive him. But he knew Leslie well enough to know that there was no arguing with her.

He nodded once, stiffly. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll try.”

Leslie smirked, her eyes gleaming with something he couldn’t quite place. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

As he turned to leave, the barn door creaked open behind him, and for a split second, his heart froze. He half-expected to see her there, standing in the doorway, glaring at him like she had on that road. But it was just another worker, coming in to start the day.

Max let out a breath, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. It had been one thing to face her the first time, in the heat of the moment. But now… now he had to go, hat in hand, and ask her to forgive him. To admit he was wrong. To dig up all the things he’d been trying to bury for years.

He shoved his hat back on his head and walked out of the barn, the piece of paper burning a hole in his pocket. The road ahead of him felt longer than it had ever been.

The next day, Max stood at the front steps of the small house, nerves twisting in his stomach like a coiled rope. He stared at the chipped paint on the door, feeling the weight of years pressing down on him. This was the house he’d been avoiding ever since he set foot back in town. And now, here he was—about to knock.

He took a deep breath, raising his fist and rapping his knuckles on the door. The sound echoed in the still morning air, louder than it had any right to be. For a moment, he thought maybe she wouldn’t answer, maybe he could just turn around and—

The door swung open.

She stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowing the second she saw him. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she wore an old flannel shirt that he recognised—one she stole off of him when they were kids. She didn’t look surprised to see him. If anything, she looked like she’d been expecting him.

“Nope,” she said flatly, her hand already on the door, ready to slam it shut. “Not happening.”

“Wait,” Max said, holding up his hands. “Just… just hear me out for a minute.”

“I don’t think I need to,” she shot back, her voice cold. “I’ve already heard enough.”

“Darling, please—”

“Do not call me ‘darling,’” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut. Her eyes flashed with anger, and Max felt the sting of it, like a whip cracking against his skin. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

Max took a step back, raising his hands defensively. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean?” she interrupted, her voice rising, filled with a raw, seething rage that had been simmering for eight long years. “What, Max? You didn’t mean to leave me in a hospital bed without a word? You didn’t mean to disappear without so much as a goddamn goodbye?”

He swallowed hard, the guilt gnawing at him like it always did when he thought about that day. “I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to face you.”

She let out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms over her chest as if to protect herself from him. “So, you just ran? That’s your excuse?”

“I wasn’t running,” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow even to him. He’d been running for years—he knew it, and so did she.

“Bullshit,” she spat, her eyes blazing. “You’ve been running your whole damn life. When things get hard, you don’t face them—you just pack your bags and leave. That’s what you did to me, and that’s what you’ve been doing ever since.”

He opened his mouth to argue, to tell her that wasn’t true, but the words died in his throat. She wasn’t wrong. He had run. He’d run the second things got complicated, the second he felt like he was losing control.

“I thought I was doing what was best,” he said finally, his voice quieter, less sure. “I thought you’d hate me if I stayed.”

Her jaw clenched, and she took a step forward, her fists balled at her sides. “You really think I could’ve hated you?” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of years of hurt. “You think I wanted you to just leave me behind like I didn’t matter?”

“I didn’t think I was enough for you!” Max burst out, the frustration and regret spilling out of him. “You were laid up in a hospital bed because of that fall, and I was getting calls about sponsors and competitions. I was torn in two, and I didn’t know what to do! I thought if I stayed, you’d see me as some reminder of what you’d lost, of the future we’d been planning and couldn’t have anymore.”

Her eyes widened, and for a second, the anger flickered, replaced by something else—something rawer, more vulnerable. “So, what? You thought I’d hate you? That I wouldn’t want you anymore? Out of pity?” She shook her head, stepping back from him as if the very thought disgusted her. “Is that what you really think of me?”

Max dragged a hand through his hair, hating how badly this conversation was going. “It wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice pleading now. “I didn’t want to be a burden. You’d just lost everything, and I didn’t want to remind you of the future you couldn’t have anymore. You deserved better than a guy who was barely hanging on.”

“Barely hanging on?” She seethed, her fists trembling. “You didn’t give me the chance to decide that! You didn’t even try to talk to me, to ask me what I wanted. You made that choice for me.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing!” Max shouted back, his frustration boiling over. “I thought if I walked away, you’d move on. You’d be better off without me, and I could… I could disappear before you realised I wasn’t enough.”

She stared at him, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with a mixture of rage and heartbreak. “You think leaving was easier for me? You think watching you drive off without a word made me better off?”

“I wasn’t strong enough to stay,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I thought I’d hurt you more by sticking around. I thought you’d hate me, that you’d look at me and see someone who was staying out of pity.”

“God, Max,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You don’t even get it, do you?”

He swallowed hard, the weight of her words crushing him. “Then tell me,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me what I didn’t see.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, her breath shaky as she tried to compose herself. When she opened them again, there was no anger left—just hurt. “You were everything to me. Everything. And you took that away because you were scared. You left me in that hospital bed, and you didn’t even let me fight for us. You made that choice, and I had to live with it.”

Max felt his chest tighten, the guilt and regret almost suffocating. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so damn sorry.”

Her lip trembled, and for a moment, she looked like she might break. But then, just as quickly, she straightened up, hardening herself again. “Sorry doesn’t fix eight years, Max. Sorry doesn’t undo the fact that you abandoned me when I needed you most.”

He took a step closer, desperate to bridge the distance between them. “I’m here now. I want to make it right.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “It’s not that easy. You don’t get to just walk back into my life and pretend like nothing happened.”

“I’m not asking you to forget,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I can’t fix what I did. But I want to try. Please, just give me a chance.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without another word, she stepped back inside and slammed the door in his face.

Max stood there, staring at the closed door, the sound of it still ringing in his ears. The weight of her words, the pain he’d caused, hung heavy in the air around him.

He slipped his hat back on, the brim casting a shadow over his eyes. As he turned and walked back to his truck, the gravel crunching beneath his boots, he realised something: he’d always been running. But for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure if he could ever stop.

That night, Max couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, the weight of her words pressing on his chest like a stone. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face—angry, hurt, and accusing. It had been easier when he thought he was protecting her by leaving. Now, after their argument, it was clear that all he’d done was rip open a wound neither of them had been able to heal.

With a frustrated groan, he threw off the blankets and sat up in bed. Sleep wasn’t coming—not tonight. He rubbed a hand over his face and glanced at the clock. It was just after midnight, but it felt like the hours were crawling by, leaving him trapped with his thoughts.

His mind wandered to the only place that ever brought him a sense of calm: the rodeo. The old training grounds on the outskirts of town where he’d spent countless nights like this, working out his frustrations with the one thing he understood—bull riding. He hadn’t been back there in years, but tonight, it felt like the only place he could go to clear his head.

Throwing on a pair of jeans and his boots, Max grabbed his jacket and slipped out of the house, the cool night air hitting his face as he headed to his truck.

The rodeo grounds were quiet when he pulled up, the faint glow of the moon casting long shadows over the empty bleachers. The scent of dirt and leather filled his lungs, familiar and comforting in a way that nothing else had been since he’d come back to town. He walked toward the arena, the sounds of his boots crunching on gravel the only thing breaking the silence.

As he got closer, something caught his eye. Movement in the arena. At first, he thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but then he saw her.

She was on horseback, weaving through the barrels in the dim moonlight, her movements graceful and precise. It was like watching a memory come to life. She moved with a fluidity that made it look effortless, but Max knew better. He’d seen the hours she used to put in, the work that went into every sharp turn, every quick burst of speed. She hadn’t lost her touch.

He stopped at the edge of the arena, standing just out of sight, not wanting to disturb her. For a moment, he just watched, his chest tightening as he remembered how much she loved this—how much they had loved this world together.

Then, it happened. As she rounded the last barrel, something went wrong. Maybe her horse misstepped, maybe she pushed too hard, but in an instant, she was thrown off, hitting the ground hard. Her horse skittered to the side, startled by the fall.

Before he could stop himself, Max was moving. He vaulted over the fence and ran toward her, his heart pounding in his chest. She was sitting up by the time he reached her, dusting off her jeans with a wince.

“Who the fuck did I piss off in my past life for you to be the one to find me?” she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she glanced up at him.

Max skidded to a halt, a little breathless, and held up his hands in surrender. “I was just passing by. You okay?”

She shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “Like you care.”

He didn’t argue, just crouched down beside her, unsure of what else to do. “How can I help?”

“Help?” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You really think you can help now, after everything?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, his voice softer than before. “But I’m trying.”

She rolled her eyes, but her usual fire seemed to be dimmed, just a little. “Doctor’s orders,” she said finally, wincing as she shifted her leg. “You wanna help? Raise my leg and keep it elevated for fifteen minutes.”

Max hesitated for a moment, unsure if she was messing with him or not. But the way she was holding her side, the tightness in her face, told him this was real.

He nodded and carefully slid his arm under her leg, lifting it gently and resting it on his knee. She didn’t protest, but she also didn’t look at him. They sat there in silence, the tension between them as thick as the night air.

The minutes dragged by, and Max could feel every second of it. He kept his gaze focused on the ground, resisting the urge to say something—anything—to break the silence. But she was the one who spoke first.

“You should’ve stayed gone,” she said quietly, her voice lacking the venom it usually held.

Max swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I couldn’t.”

“You mean you didn’t want to. Big difference.” She still wasn’t looking at him, her focus trained on the darkened arena ahead of them.

He shifted slightly, careful not to jostle her leg. “I missed this place,” he said after a long pause. “Missed the people. Missed… you.”

She scoffed, but there was less bite to it. “You missed me? Is that why you didn’t call for eight years? ‘Cause you missed me?”

“I didn’t know how,” he admitted, his voice low. “I thought you’d moved on. I thought it was easier for you if I wasn’t in the picture.”

“Easier?” She let out a humourless laugh. “Do you even hear yourself, Max? You just disappeared. You didn’t even give me the chance to move on, to deal with any of it. You just left, and I had to pick up the pieces.”

He clenched his jaw, the guilt settling deep in his chest. “I thought I was doing what was best.”

“Stop saying that,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes were filled with anger, but underneath it was something else—something softer, more vulnerable. “You keep saying that like it was some noble thing you did, but all you did was make a decision for both of us. You never even asked me what I wanted.”

Max opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She was right. He hadn’t asked. He’d just assumed.

They fell into silence again, the weight of the unspoken things between them pressing down like a heavy fog.

After what felt like forever, she sighed, leaning back against the fence, her leg still resting on his knee. “You know,” she said quietly, “there was a time when I would’ve given anything to hear you say you missed me. But now… I don’t even know what to do with that.”

Max looked at her, his chest tightening at the sight of her so close, yet so far away. “I’m trying,” he said softly. “I know I messed up. I know I can’t fix what I did, but I’m here now. I want to make it right.”

She didn’t respond, just stared out at the empty arena, her face unreadable.

The silence stretched between them, and Max could feel the weight of it settling in his bones. He wanted to say more, to tell her everything that had been building inside him for years. But the words felt too small, too insignificant for the damage he’d caused.

After a long while, she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if it’s enough.”

Max’s heart clenched, but he nodded. “I get that,” he said quietly. “But I’m not going anywhere this time.”

She didn’t say anything else, and the two of them sat there in the quiet of the rodeo grounds, with nothing but the stars and the distant sounds of the horses to keep them company.

For the first time in years, it wasn’t the silence that felt unbearable. It was the hope buried somewhere beneath it.

She shifted slightly, wincing a bit as she adjusted her leg on his knee. Max kept his hold steady, though every muscle in him was tense. He was waiting, unsure if she’d kick him out of her life again or keep him suspended in this strange limbo they found themselves in.

“What was it like?” she asked suddenly, her voice soft but cutting through the stillness. She didn’t look at him, just kept her eyes trained on the horizon, as if the answer was out there somewhere in the night sky. “To make it big? To live that life?”

Max glanced at her, surprised by the question. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to respond. His instinct was to downplay it, to gloss over the highs and lows like he had so many times before when people asked. But this wasn’t just anyone asking—it was her.

He took a deep breath. “It was everything I thought it’d be,” he started, his voice low. “At first, anyway. The crowds, the money, the fame… it was wild. Everything moved so fast. One minute I was just this kid from nowhere, the next I was on posters, doing interviews, getting invited to places I’d never even dreamed of.”

He paused, rubbing the back of his neck as the memories flooded back. “The adrenaline—it’s like nothing else. Every ride, every victory, it felt like I was on top of the world. But the crashes… they’re just as big. Bigger, even.”

She listened quietly, her face unreadable. He wasn’t sure if she cared or if she was just being polite, but he kept going, needing to get it out.

“There were nights when I’d lie awake in a hotel room, hundreds of miles from home, and wonder what the hell I was doing,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I was surrounded by people all the time, but I never felt more alone. It was like… like I was chasing something, and no matter how far I got, I couldn’t catch it. Every high came with a low, and after a while, the lows started outweighing everything else.”

She still didn’t say anything, her eyes fixed on the stars. He looked down at the ground, the dirt beneath his boots feeling more real than anything had in a long time.

“I got tired of it,” he confessed after a long pause. “Tired of the crowds, the noise, the pressure to be something I wasn’t sure I wanted to be anymore. I missed this place. I missed…” He trailed off, but she didn’t need him to finish the sentence. They both knew what he meant.

Finally, she turned her head slightly, her eyes finding his. “And you think you can just come back?” she asked, her voice steady but tinged with something bitter, something hurt. “After all of that? Just walk back into this life like nothing happened?”

Max swallowed hard. “No,” he said quietly. “I don’t think that. I know I can’t just… fix things. I’m not here to pretend that the past didn’t happen.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her gaze sharp, cutting through the quiet. “Why should I trust you?”

He didn’t flinch at the question. He’d been expecting it, waiting for it.

“You don’t have to,” he answered honestly, meeting her eyes. “I know I haven’t earned that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”

Her jaw clenched, and she turned her gaze back to the arena. “You hurt me, Max. You didn’t just leave—you disappeared. Like I meant nothing.”

“I know,” he whispered, the words heavy with regret. “And I’m so damn sorry. If I could take it all back, I would.”

“Sorry isn’t enough,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly. “You don’t get to come back after eight years and expect me to forget what that felt like.”

He nodded, his throat tight. “I’m not asking you to forget. Or even to forgive me right away. I just want a chance to make things right. To prove that I’m not that guy anymore.”

She didn’t respond, just sat there in the silence, her leg still resting on his knee. It was a strange kind of intimacy—one built on years of unresolved hurt, but also on something deeper. Something neither of them wanted to name yet.

After a while, she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Nothing ever changed here, you know,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “While you were out there, living that big life, everything just… stayed the same. The same people, the same rodeos, the same barns. It was like I was stuck while you were off becoming someone else.”

Max’s chest tightened at her words. He couldn’t imagine what that must’ve felt like, to watch the world move on without her, to feel left behind. And worse, to know he was part of the reason she felt that way.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words feeling inadequate, but it was all he had. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to leave you stuck. I thought you’d move on. I thought you’d—”

“Stop thinking,” she cut in, her voice sharp again, though there was a weariness in her eyes. “You keep telling yourself you did what was best for me, but you never asked me what I wanted. You just decided for both of us.”

He nodded, taking the hit. She was right, and he wasn’t going to argue with that.

She shifted again, pulling her leg off his knee and standing up, brushing the dirt off her jeans. Max stood too, though he kept his distance, unsure of what to do next. The tension between them was still there, heavy and thick, but something had changed. There was a crack in the wall she’d built around herself, just a small one, but it was there.

“Look,” she said after a long pause, her voice softer now. “I don’t know what you expect to happen. I don’t know if I can ever trust you again. But… I don’t hate you. Not anymore. I thought I did, for a long time. But it’s just… it’s hard to hate someone you used to love that much.”

His heart stuttered in his chest at the word “love.” Even though it was in the past tense, it still felt like a lifeline.

“I don’t expect anything,” he said quietly. “I just want to be here. Whatever that looks like.”

She gave him a long look, her eyes searching his face as if she was trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. Finally, she nodded, just once. “We’ll see.”

It wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t even close. But it was something.

She turned and started walking toward her truck, her steps slow, like she was still testing how much she could trust the ground beneath her.

Max watched her go, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, the weight of the past still pressing on him. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he had a chance.

And he wasn’t going to waste it.

part three

[crushpunky]

rafe calls kook!reader from jail

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

Y/n groaned, turning over in bed to pick up her ringing phone. She did her best to wipe the sleep out of her eyes as she checked who was calling: Kildare County Police Department.

“Hello?” She said, swinging her feet out of bed. She was already tugging on a sweatshirt and socks, her mind racing at all the possibilities of what the hell was going on. The boys hadn’t told her they were planning on going anywhere that night, but that didn’t necessarily mean they had stayed out of trouble. 

“Y/n—” The unmistakable voice of Rafe Cameron answered the line. Sure, Rafe had his problems, fights and drugs and the lot, but never had he been arrested. I mean, hell, he was Rafe Cameron, that name held weight in Kildare.

“I’ll be right there.” Y/n whispered, slipping on a pair of sandals and grabbing her car keys before hanging up the phone.

Y/n found herself speeding the entire drive from her house to the police department, anxiously chewing at her thumbnail. Once she pulled up, she barely put the car in park before hopping out and jogging into the jail. She fumbled into her pockets, counting the wad of cash she had grabbed before she left and praying it was enough for whatever had gone down.

Y/n glanced around the lobby of the police department, the only seat filled by a lanky boy with his head in his hands: Rafe. She let out a sigh of relief. Out of the many ways she was expecting to see him, whether that be behind bars, cuffed, or the shit beat out of him, this was undoubtedly the best. Sensing y/n’s presence, Rafe looked up, his bloodshot eyes raking over her slowly.

“Is- is he ok to leave?” Y/n turned towards the woman at the front desk.

“As long as he isn’t planning on driving.” The woman said gruffly before returning to the computer in front of her. Y/n looked back at Rafe, whose hazy gaze was still stuck on her.

“Thanks.” Y/n muttered before taking a step towards Rafe, her arms crossed as she glared at him. Without a word, he got to his feet before stumbling. Y/n’s hand shot out instinctively to catch him, the tall boy's figure nearly causing her to topple over.

“Sorry.” Rafe said quietly before straightening himself out. Y/n kept an arm pressed against his side as they slowly hobbled out of the station and towards the car. As they walked, y/n took an opportunity to look over him closer. A thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead, his eyes red and heavy, but no sight of any cuts or bruises. Once they got to the car, y/n opened the passenger door before trying her best to maneuver Rafe’s clumsy form into the seat. Once he finally was inside, she clicked his seatbelt before closing the door and rounding the vehicle. Silently, y/n started the car and pulled away from the station.

“I’m sorry.” Rafe whispered as they drove. Y/n glanced over at him quickly, his eyes fixated on his lap where he fiddled with his rings, twisting them along his fingers.

“What happened?” Y/n asked.

“Got drunk. Ended up on the beach.” Rafe said shortly, his gaze still refusing to look at her.

“Did you– are you…?” Y/n trailed off, unable to finish. She hated saying it, the word. The thing that had caused Rafe so much pain over the years… high.

“No, no. Just drunk.” He grumbled, pulling off the ring on his fore-finger and placing it on the dashboard. The engraved “C” glittered in the soft glow of the street lights that passed, catching y/n’s eye.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Y/n asked hesitantly, checking to see Rafe’s reaction. He shook his head wordlessly. She knew better than to push, so she didn’t. He would come around on his own time, she hoped.

“Do you want to go to Tannyhill or—” Y/n began.

“Your place.” Rafe cut in, his tone firm. Y/n nodded, turning off to the road towards her house. Once they finally pulled in, y/n shut off the car before rounding to meet Rafe on his side.  He had managed to open the door, but his hands were fumbling with his seat belt in the dim lighting of the cabin lights. Y/n reached over, unlocking it before helping Rafe out of his seat. She turned back quickly, grabbing the Cameron ring off the dash before pocketing it. The two of them leaned on each other as they rounded the house, entering through the back door y/n had left unlocked before she left.

This was by no means the first time she had snuck Rafe (or anyone for that matter) into the house so late, so she had developed a bit of a system. How to enter without triggering the cameras in the back, what floorboards to avoid, what lights to turn on or off. The system worked most of the time, but when you had to maneuver a severely drunken six-foot-two man around the house, it became much more difficult. Luckily, they had managed to make it into her room without anyone noticing, sans Jack who jumped to his feet with a wag of his tail when she opened the door to her bedroom, Rafe in tow.

With a huff, y/n shrugged Rafe’s arm off before going to her closet to forage for a pair of shorts for him to wear. Rafe collapsed onto her bed, Jack excitedly pacing in front of him, blissfully unaware of the boy's highly intoxicated state.

“I’ll start the shower.” Y/n said, tossing the shorts to Rafe before disappearing into the bathroom. Rafe patted Jack on the head before following her. Y/n started the water, quickly checking the water before turning to Rafe, who stood in front of her, swaying lightly. He went to remove his shoes, muttering to himself as he tried to balance on one foot. With a grunt, he fell, catching himself on the counter.

“Jesus, Rafe.” Y/n said, moving to her knees to take off his shoes herself. Rafe lifted his shirt, struggling to lift it over his head before finally getting it off. He then went to his pants, fumbling with his belt before giving up with a sigh.

“Could you…?” Rafe said quietly, looking down at y/n as she got his second shoe off. She looked up at his face for a second before moving to remove his belt, his pants falling to the ground in a heap, leaving him in his boxers. She could feel her cheeks heat up at the position they were in, quickly turning away to grab a towel.

“Don’t take too long.” Y/n said, shoving the towel into Rafe’s hands before quickly exiting the bathroom. Once she closed the door behind her, she let out a deep exhale, pressing her body against the door. She listened as Rafe clamored into the shower, swearing under his breath. Closing her eyes, she sank down to the floor. What was his problem? Sure, she’d seen him this drunk before, but that was at parties. This was completely by himself. On a beach. Alone.

Jack padded over, poking her to look at him with his nose.

“I don’t know, Jackie boy.” Y/n whispered to him, rubbing his ears softly, when she heard the water turn off. She straightened back up, moving over towards her bed. She tossed a blanket onto the daybed that sat by the window, pulling the sheets back as Rafe came into the room. Jack looked up at her (or rather scowled), annoyed by the loss of his usual sleeping spot, before curling up on the floor.

“C-can I… can I sleep with you? Instead?” Rafe stammered, dampened hair sticking to his forehead. Y/n felt her heart skip, glancing over at him. His cheeks were flushed from the shower, his hands rubbing against the fabric of his shorts that sat low on his hips. She could see a slight glint in his eyes, evidence of… something. It wasn’t like they had never slept in the same bed before, passing out drunk or after a night of studying back in high school, but not because Rafe had asked…

“Um… sure.” Y/n said quietly, pulling the daybed sheets back into place. She dug into the pockets of her sweatpants, emptying the contents onto her bedside table before tugging them off along with her sweatshirt.

“Nice shirt.” Rafe asked, pointing to the sleep shirt she was wearing. She glanced down at it, not even realizing it was one of his t-shirts.

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize—” Y/n started, looking back at him.

“No it’s fine, I just thought I had lost it.” Rafe said, standing at the opposite side of the bed as y/n, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“I can give it back if you want.” Y/n swallowed harshly. 

“It’s fine. Looks better on you than it did on me.” Rafe waved her off, a tight smile on his lips. Y/n nodded, climbing into the bed. Rafe followed hesitantly, sliding his feet in.

“Do you want an extra pillow?” Y/n asked, gesturing to the gap between them.

“You don’t trust me?” Rafe said with a smirk and slight raise of his eyebrow. The shower had certainly freshened him up a bit, his iciness from earlier melting away as evidenced by his sarcastic remarks.

“Just trying to be a good host.” Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, propping herself up on her elbow to face Rafe. Rafe was sitting up against the headboard, his hands rested in his lap.

“If you want to put a pillow between us, that’s fine. I was just joking.” Rafe said softly, his fingers pulling at the edge of the sheet.

“I trust you, Rafe.” Y/n whispered. Rafe nodded to himself, looking down at his lap quietly. They sat for a second in silence, y/n watching his expressions closely under the faint glow of the bedside lamp.

“It was my dad.” Rafe said quietly, his hands beginning to tremble slightly as he spoke. Y/n snaked a hand out, softly entwining her fingers with his own. She knew his dad was a hard spot for him, a cause of so much pain and pressure in his life. However, she also knew that, in his own twisted concept of love, Rafe loved his father.

“He was just talking about how he can’t… trust me with this important shit because I mess everything up and it just, I don’t know, it got to me.” Rafe muttered, lightly running a finger of his spare hand along your entwined knuckles.

“You can’t let him get to you like that, Rafe. He has no idea what he’s talking about.” Y/n said. Rafe glanced over at her, his eyes heavy.

“Doesn’t he though? I do mess everything up. All the time. We both know it.” Rafe sighed. Y/n frowned, her heart clenching sadly at his words. Sure, Rafe made his fair share of mistakes, but who didn’t? Regardless, he was going to try and he was going to put in the work to do his best. She had seen it herself time and time again, how he would do anything to prove himself.

“Rafe, I trust you, ok? I know you, I trust you, and I say that that’s not true.” Y/n whispered. Rafe bit his lip with a nod, mulling over her words.

“Thank you, y/n. For everything.” Rafe said quietly. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Y/n squeezed his hand gently.

“No, thank you. I- I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Rafe said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Y/n pushed herself up, wrapping her arms around Rafe. He did the same, pulling her flush to his body, his face buried in her hair.

“Goodnight, boy.” Y/n murmured into his bare chest. His grip loosened only slightly, allowing for the two of them to slide to rest their heads on the pillows. His fingers traced along the back of his t-shirt that covered y/n’s skin, the softness of his touch soothing her as they sunk deeper into the mattress.

“Goodnight, girl.” Rafe whispered, his arms holding onto y/n as the two of them floated off to sleep.

[chillinglyadventurous]

Sneaking Around - Stanford Pines Part 2

Thanks @doggosnoodles12 for requesting a part 2!

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4

Tags: NSFW, MDNI!

You were stocking the gift shop shelves. Stan was counting the day’s earning at the cash register behind you when you heard the vending machine swing open. Ford was there with a smile on his face. ‘Bastard’ you thought ‘at least he got to finish.’

It must be so easy to be a man, a quick jerk and he’s done. No need for all the theatrics like women. You hated him for it sometimes, but the thought clouded your mind. You could picture it because you’d seen it before.

He was sitting in the lab. You had watched him so thoughtfully as he stroked himself to you. Your eyes were wide, lips parted ever so slightly as you watched his hand move up and down his length. His stare had been on you, relishing in your flushed cheeks as you sat so close to him, pulling you in for a hot kiss as he came over his hands.

You busied your hands by straighten the bobbleheads on the shelf in front of you. That memory made your hands shake. You couldn’t force the thought of the difference between when he touches himself versus when you do. He was so much more responsive when it was your hand sliding and twisting down his cock than his own. The grunts were a turn on all their own. The way he thrust his hips into you hand was enough to make you gasp.

Nothing, however, compared to how he responded to your mouth. Little whimpers would escape him. His hands would be tangled in your hair as he tried his very best not to push you further down, but it sure felt good when your choked on him, the contraction of your throat mimicking the throbs of your body, breathtaking.

“Busy day?” Ford asked as he crossed over to his brother.

Stan gave a grunt in response, “Would’ve made more money if you weren’t stealing my girl to look at that quantum destabilizer.” By his tone, you could tell Stan was trying not to get angry. He was doing his best to mend fences with his brother, “You better watch her with that thing. One wrong move and, boom, she’s in a lot of trouble.”

A bobble head clattered to the ground at his comment. Both of their gazes were on you, “Sorry.”

Ford gave a soft chuckle, “I watch her very closely. I wouldn’t want her to get hurt.”

Oh, he watched you. He loved watching you, studying how each flick of his tongue caused your face to contort in pleaser. He watched himself slip in and out of you with ease. He made you so wet. He watched when you became so desperate and needy when he tormented you, grinding yourself against his thigh when you could no longer hold yourself back. Yeah, he watched you.

Hurt. No. He’d never hurt you. He could be rough. His fingers often left six little bruises on each hip. You could recall a six fingered, hand-shaped bruise on your left breast a few weeks ago. But, he never hurt you. Always making sure you were alright. You had tried to get him to slap you once. He’d refused, “I couldn’t, ever hit that beautiful face.”

“Well, Shack’s closed, Stan,” you sighed. “Do you mind if I get back down there?

He shrugged, “Do whatever you want, [Y/N]. I’m taking the kids to Greasy’s for dinner.”

“When are you leaving?” Your question overlapped with Ford’s.

Stan gave you both a strange look. His eyebrows crinkled together even though the twins had bounded down the stairs. You gave Dipper and Mabel a smile after your gaze left Ford’s, “Now, I guess.”

You and Ford stood on opposite sides of the gift shop as you watched Stan and the kids leave. As the Stanmobile pulled away from the Shack and disappeared, you could already see Ford bounding to you out of the corner of your eye.

“Stop,” you whispered. You pointed toward the security camera across the room, the same one that was focused on you at that very moment. You didn’t want what you knew was about to happen to be caught on camera.

Ford’s feet stilled. His eyes were hungry. He didn’t want to wait. God, neither did you, but you kept your cool as you waltzed causally back into the house. You swayed your hips a little more than you normally would, tempting your lover to follow you.

Once you were in your bedroom, the door was slammed shut.You didn’t even have time to gasp before Ford was on you, before you were pressed flat against your duvet. Despite his desperation to shove himself into you immediately, afraid to waste a moment, his kiss was soft on your lips. His grip was crushing on your hips, but his kiss was sugary sweet.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he forced himself between your legs. “I’m sorry things are like this. You’re the one suffering.”

You carded your hands through his hair before pulling off his glasses. You moved to kiss him, but gasped as he bucked his clothed hard-on against your centre. You caught your breath, in love with that grin on his face, “You promised to make it up to me.”

“Oh,” he ghosted his lips over yours, “I’m about to.”

For sat back on his calves as he pulled your dress over your head, tossing it onto the floor. His eyes raked over you. Your panties were still missing, probably hidden in some desk drawer in the basement. He unclasped your bra expertly before tossing it away too.

You subconsciously licked your lips when he picked up your right leg. He pressed a kiss to your ankle, traveling up to your knee before picking up your left. He repeated himself there. You watched in awe. Your mind was already clouded. You wanted him to stop playing this game and to get shift a on when he started kissing and nipping at your wrists. His smile against your skin was loving and full of admiration. You just wanted him inside you.

“Ford,” you muttered as he started kissing across your clavicle, “They won’t be gone all night. We have an hour or two max.”

He withdrew his tongue from your navel, “[Y/N], I rarely get fifteen minutes with you.” He tongued your bellybutton again, hands spreading your thighs further. He kneaded that softness just below your ass, “Let me worship you. You deserve this.”

Finally, he touched you. His lips, chapped as they were, wrapped around your clit. He placed a kiss to it before circling with his tongue. The noise you made in response was undoubtedly undignified, a mix of a moan and whine.

Reflexively, you covered your mouth, but Ford was quick to take your wrist in his hand, “None of that. You don’t need to do that now.” He sucked you into his mouth as he inserted a finger. Your hips bucked against his chin when he curled it inside of you, “Let me hear you, please.”

His finger straightened as he withdrew, pushing in a second with a curl of his knuckles. He sighed when he finally heard you, a relaxed moan tumbling out of you as he repeated the movement again, his tongue flicking across your clit again.

“Atta girl,” he smiled against you.

You watched him as he continued. His nose was pressed firmly against your pelvis as his tongue continued its assault. His fingers pumped quickly. He watched your writhe, moans freely spilling past your lips. You chanted his name as you felt your muscles tighten, legs flexing.

You needed to grab onto something when you began to shake, hips rolling frantically against his mouth and hands. A wet squelch sounded with each thrust of his wrist. Finally, you found something to hold onto. Your nails scraped against your headboard. You couldn’t hold his gaze any longer as your orgasm hit you.

“Stanford!” You chanted over and over again as your rode his face. Your eyes closed because you couldn’t look into his anymore. His eyes were always too much when his face was between your thighs, “Oh my god! Ford!”

He continued to eat you through it until you finally came down, legs closing to halt his attempt at overstimulation. Now was not the time for games.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand when you reached for him, “You’re even more beautiful when you’re screaming my name.”

“That’s enough chitchat,” you whispered. You were already unzipping his pants, “Fuck me.”

His boots, jacket, turtleneck, and slacks were on the floor in an instant. You stared at him for a moment. The two of you had rarely ever had the time for him to get fully undressed. Often, you had only ever pulled his cock out of its confines just to get things going, pressed for time.

Suddenly, your order for him to fuck you was abandoned as you pushed him onto the mattress. Climbing atop him, you traced a deep scar across his shoulder with your fingertips. Your touch was gentle while you studied him, all of him.

His chest was broad and so were his shoulders. The muscles of his upper body were well defined. The slight pudge of his stomach was endearing. You smiled down at him, leaning over to place a kiss to his forehead, “You’re beautiful, Stanford. Do you know that?”

His right hand cupped your face as he pulled you into him. You melded together for a moment before he pulled away, “I am so in love with you.”

You bit your lip as you straightened your back, hips rising. You pressed the head of his cock against you warmth. You suck down onto him and the moan he gave was precious. You tried to memorize it before he gave you another with each roll of your hips, moving in tight up and down circles.

You were lost in him, eyes locked as you rode him. With each roll of your hips, you two groaned in tandem. With each upward thrust into you, you both sighed the other’s name. Not a single praise was stifled by a hand for fear of someone hearing. For once, it was just the two of you.

“You’re so tight,” Ford gasped when he felt the familiar flutter of your insides. One hand gripped your hip and the other rested on your lower belly. He wanted to feel how deep he was hitting you, watching the slight bulge of him inside you wasn’t enough, “Mhmm, such a good girl.”

Your body began to shake again, shivering as your relentless pace faltered. You were frozen as you began to milk him, unable to move as the intensity of waiting for this all day was just too much, so he took over. With his feet planted firmly against your mattress, he thrust up into you. With each bounce, you repeated how much you love him until your screamed his name again.

He rode you out. Just as he was about to flip you over, allowing him the ability to pull out, you stopped him, “No, please, cum inside of me. I want to feel it. Please, Ford, please.”

With your breathless words and the clenching of your cunt, he came. The soft pressure was heaven as he fucked you through his own orgasm, “Fuck!”

The room was hot and sticky when you collapsed onto his chest. Every muscle relaxed. Your body was numb, buzzing with the endorphin flowing through your veins. The two of you stayed that way for a while until he pulled out of you. You both gave a sigh, your cheeks blushing when you felt your own release and his gush out of you.

Now, you were laid in his arms. His hands played with the little hairs at the base of your skull. You could hear his heartbeat in his chest. Time had stopped moving, “I love you so much, Ford.”

Loud clatter coming from the other side of the house startled you both. Jumping from the bed, Ford scrambled to put his clothes back on and you did the same. You could hear the twins running down the hall.

When your door opened, you froze, “What the hell is going on?”

Ford barely had time to zip up his pants, his sweater still discarded on the floor, before Stan threw a punch. You’re screamed at him to stop as soon as your dress is back over your head. You tried to put yourself between them, but Ford pushed you away, afraid you’d get caught in the crossfire of punches.

“She’s like a daughter to me, you creep!” Stan shouted as Ford dodged another punch. Stan was quickly pinned to the ground by his twin brother, “I told you to stay away from her! You ruined my life. You’re not going to ruin hers too.”

Suddenly you realized what was happening. Your face fell and so did your voice, “Stanford, let him go.”

Ford glanced in your direction before doing as you said. You stood between them to keep them from hitting each other again, “Stan, what are you talking about?”

His ego was bruised. You knew this. So did Ford, “You’re my family and I’m not going to let this jerk take you away from me too.”

You hugged him tight. You didn’t have a dad growing up. Like Soos, yours was never around. Stan had taken that role when you started working at the Shack, always guiding you in the best way he could to be better than him. He wanted the world for you. When your mom died and you had no where else to go, he took you in out of the kindness of his heart.

“I love Ford. I’m sorry we kept this from you, but,” you took Ford’s hand in yours, “I love him.”

Stan’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you and his brother, “Do you love her, sixer?”

“More than anyone could possibly comprehend,” Ford murmured as he placed a kiss against your temple.

Stan was dumbfounded as he stared at the two of you. He couldn’t decide whether or not to be happy that you found love or to kill his twin.

[salvatwh0re]

I have officially mastered the void

So this morning (afternoon actually) i decided to tap into the void so I did the 61 points yoga nidra meditation with a subliminal. I didn’t really need the subliminal I was just using it cause my headphones are somewhat noise cancelling and my family was awake so I didn’t want to get distracted. But the meditation was really relaxing. At first I had some trouble staying focused but then I reminded myself why I was doing this and what I was doing it for. So it kept me motivated. After that i affirmed a little bit then I counted down from 100 and then I affirmed some more then I got bored of affirming so i started visualizing and then I got bored of that so I just decided to focus on the darkness behind my eyelids.

I never really took that advice from people when they said it helped cause I didn’t believe them but it actually worked. Out of everything else I did that was the one thing that sent me straight to the void. I think for the most part it was just letting go of that desperate feeling i always have when I try to enter. I always feel like I’m forcing myself to do it so I just let go and kind of forgot about what I was doing while still keeping that intention.

I was getting pretty anxious tho because of the time so I just got out but i did it again and it sent me straight to the void again. So now I know the secret to getting into the void is to just let go of that desperation and to stop forcing yourself, just let it happen. If you feel you’ve affirmed enough stop affirming, if you feel you’ve focused on your breathing enough, go back to your automatic breathing pattern STOP FORCING YOURSELF IT WILL GET YOU NOWHERE!!

and I know a lot of people stress about not being aware in the void and not affirming for your desires but stressing over that is exactly what’s going to make you forget tbh. When you let go of that desperation you let go of those other doubts too, those things that were stopping you from getting there in the first place. I feel like removing yourself from those thoughts is really effective in getting you what you want.

I will say it might help to have a list of things you want either written down or set in your mind because it will be a lot easier to remember what you’re going to affirm. When you’re in the void or even before you tap in completely you’re supposed to be super relaxed so it might be a little difficult to bring up those thoughts but because of how different the void is from the 3D it’s kind of hard to forget. Especially if you’ve been trying for a long time.

The void isn’t really something you question, you know for sure you’re in cause you can’t hear feel see taste or smell anything so it’s pretty identifiable. And because you’ve reminded yourself over and over that that’s what the void feels like, once you feel it you’re going to be like OHHH ok now i know to affirm for my desires. You’ve been training your brain to associate the void with your desires so of course once you recognize that you’re in you’re going to remember to affirm for your desires.

Also I don’t really like using the term void personally, but it’s what I learned it as. I feel like calling it the void just makes it sound so otherworldly and extraterrestrial and scary tbh. I think that’s what was holding me back as well, fear. I know that Neville Goddard refers to it as the I AM state which is a perfect name for it because it really is a state of just BEING like you’re not worried about anything else other than yourself and that’s the beauty of it. I would go on more cause there’s so much I can say but overall i hope you just let you go of that desperation so that you can finally push through and get everything you’ve been wanting because you deserve it.

[lexabitxh]

D.W | Feelings

summary: dean winchester confesses his feelings towards y/n.

perspective: third person

word count: 1811

Dean had fallen madly in love with Y/n ever since he laid eyes on her. She was beautiful, not like the girls in the magazines. She was beautiful for the way she thought, for the way she spoke, and her ability to help those around her.

No, she wasn’t just beautiful as something temporary as her looks, but beautiful deep down in her soul.

She was his reason for why he kept pushing in life. She made his darkest days cheerful and full of light. She had changed his life completely.

The way she looked at him with that smile made him feel butterflies in his stomach. It was an odd sensation, but comforting in ways that couldn’t allow him to sleep at night.

However, he wasn’t one to express his feelings. It wasn’t easy to admit he loved her, but he knew those feelings he felt were true. He wanted to tell her, but the fear of rejection held him back.

So, Dean keep things mutual between the both for as long as he could, but each day it became harder to not wonder what it would be like to date her. Especially when there would times where he’d flirt with her and she’d flirt back. Did she mean it or was she just playing along?

Sometimes he’d envy Sam for how close the two were. She’d always go to Sam rather than him for help or for anything in general. He tried not to hate Sam for it, but he just wished to be in his place. To be the one he she’d run to for comfort.

He wishes he could be the one that kept her awake at nights and in despair, to be her cry, to be the one who she woke up excited for. But that fear always held him back from confessing his feelings.

It wasn’t until he finally had enough.

~

Sam and Y/n had been on the couch watching movies for hours with half a bucket of popcorn between them, and the other half all over them. “Sam! Stop throwing the popcorn!” She laughed, trying to sound upset but couldn’t.

“C’mon, this is more fun than actually eating it” he said, throwing a handful at her. Before she could say anything, Dean had came back from his trip. She looked towards his direction, sending him a smile only to not receive one back.

“Hey, Dean. Is everything okay?” She questioned, looking up at him as Sam had turned the volume down. “Yeah… just been thinking a lot while I was out” he said as he looked between the two.

Sam immediately got the hint and got up. “I’ll go make us some more popcorn.”

Y/n watched as Sam grabbed the container and awkwardly walked away, leaving the two alone. Once he was gone, she patted the empty spot, inviting him to take a seat besides her.

“What’s in your mind?” She asked.

Dean walked from behind the couch and around, sitting next to her. Being so close to her made him nervous- he couldn’t function. He kept quiet for a bit, trying to find the words he had been rehearsing over and over and over again, but it’s as if the words he’s been memorizing had slipped away.

“I just wanted to, um, talk to you about something” he swallowed nervously. He was starting to become flustered. The palm of his hands becoming sweaty and his heart pounding out off his chest. Being around her made him act like a fool.

Suddenly, Y/n felt a nervous. She had no idea if she has done something to upset him. Having a one-on-one conversation always made her uneasy and uncomfortable. She felt like she was in trouble.

“What is it?” She asked concerned. Dean took in a deep breath, trying so hard to just put his feelings out there. Y/n took notice of his struggle and took ahold of his hand. “Dean, you can tell me anything. What’s going on?”

Dean glance down at her hand resting above his. Her hand much smaller as it felt soft and warm. He felt a tingly sensation form inside his chest as she made it much more difficult to act upon.

“It’s about you.”

“What about me?”

Y/n had a million different thoughts running through her mind. He probably noticed the scratch I left on baby… or the tiny stain in the backseat. She became anxious.

“Is it about, baby? Cause I swear it wasn’t me! It’s Sam’s fault!” she blurted out, throwing Sam under the bus rather than taking the blame.

“What? No!” He said, only to wonder what trouble they might have caused. “What about baby?” He questioned, but she simply shook her head. “Nothing. Forget about it. What were you going to tell me?” She asked, hoping that he’d forget all about the impala and move on.

Dean shook the thought away before refocusing on the main reason why he wanted to speak to her. “Right” he mumbled.

“Do you remember how we met?” He said smiling softly. Y/n smiled at the memory. “You were running from the police and I helped hid you from them” she laughed a little.

“We sorta became partners in crime ever since” she smiled. That smile. It was that smile that made Dean weak to his knees. “Like Bonnie & Clyde. Except we hunt monsters” he said with a light chuckle.

“Exactly” she laughed, “You were an absolute mess that day, and yet somehow, you convinced me to help you” she said. “And two years later, here I am with you idiots” she teased.

“I happens to be adorable. I’ll try not to take offense to it” he laughed softly before he getting all serious again. “Meeting you has been one of the best things that has happened to us” he said.

Y/n smiled as she felt the same away about them. They’ve gave her a purpose in life and adventures she never imagined before. “Awe, someone’s getting soft” she teased.

Dean shook his head, “just let me finish” he said. He took ahold of her hand this time and looked deeply into her eyes. “You changed my life, Y/n. You changed me. And for the past two years, I’ve been in love with you” he said, finally being able to put his feelings out into the air.

He felt relieved being able to admit his feelings. A weight lifted off his shoulders as he didn’t have to hide them anymore.

Y/n froze to the sudden news. She never would have imagined Dean Winchester to be in love with a girl like her. She loved Dean. She always has. But Dean slept with multiple girls and so she never envision herself having a real relationship with him.

“Y/n… say something.” Dean grew anxious with every second gone by. “I- for two years?” Y/n was still taken aback by the fact he loved her for two freaking years.

“It was the first time I saw you that I discovered what love at first sight was” he confessed. “You made me feel things I never felt before, things I never imagined feeling” he added.

“And seeing you with Sam made me jealous cause I want to be the one to hold you, to make you smile, to make you laugh…” he continued. “But I understand if you like Sam. I just wanted to let you know how I felt because I can’t carry this feeling inside me any longer.”

Y/n stared up at him in complete awe. The way he had let his guard down to confess his love for her. How his cheeks grew red with embarrassment. The way he became all shy and timid. She has never seen Dean act so… so in love.

“S-Sam? You think I have a thing for, Sam?!” She laughed. “D-do you not?” She shook her head, “no dumbass, I don’t like Sam in that particular way” she paused, “I like you.” She placed her hand on his cheek.

As she caressed it, he simply melted into her touch. “I’ve always liked you, Dean. The moment you stumbled into my life with trouble, I knew that the universe had written you for me.” Her words caused his heart to race, a smile forming on his lips.

“You’re the one who keeps me up at night. The one who makes me smile and giggle like crazy. You drive me crazy, Dean Winchester” she told him.

“I just- I never wanted to tell you because I knew you weren’t one to settle down with anyone. So, I kept my feelings hidden. Though it didn’t took long for Sam to notice and tease me about it.” She sighed.

“Sam knew?!” Dean said baffled at the thought why his brother never told him. Could have saved him all the trouble. Y/n nodded, “I sorta made him promise not to tell a living soul” she said giggled.

“So does this means what I think it means?” He asked. “Well, are you going to take me out on an official date?” She questioned as she gently pushed some of his hair back.

Dean smiled like an idiot. “You could ask me to swim across the ocean and I’ll do it just for you” he said while gently cupping her face.

“If a date makes you happy, then a date it is” he slowly leaned closer to her face. “I’d give you the world and more” he said as his lips hover above hers.

“Dean Winchester being so sweet? Who would’ve thought I’d be the reason” Y/n teased as she placed her lips on his, smiling in-between the shared kiss. Dean smiled back, kissing her softly and slowly. He had dreams of this moment and finally it was happening. It was magical and anything he never imagined before.

As they pulled away, they both stared at each other like complete idiot. “Finally!” said Sam as he entered the room. “About damn time. I was getting tired hearing you both yap about each other” he said as he took a seat on the singular couch.

“Now if you excuse me, I got a movie to finish” he said while throwing some popcorn towards them before taking a handful into his mouth. “Bitch” said Dean as he placed his arm around Y/n’s shoulders.

“Jerk.” Sam replied with a mouthful while turning the volume up and resuming to watch the movie.

Dean simple smiled to himself as he had everything he’s ever wanted in life. He had his brother by his side and the girl of his dreams wrapped around him. He couldn’t be happier than in that moment.

[nataliasquote]

One shot idea : baby yn and worried mama Nat waking up at every single little noise she makes and her singing her baby back to sleep

I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You

Double the trouble AU

Summary: Natasha lulls her restless daughter to sleep with simply a song

Warnings: none

wc: 704

note: this request was so cute! it’s a lot shorter than my usual oneshots, but I still love it

-⧗-

Cries echoed from the nursery and both moms shot awake, their blissful 50 minutes of sleep now disrupted. Wanda winced, the sound of her daughter sending panic through her body. But Natasha shook her head and swung her legs out from the warmth of the comforter, urging Wanda to stay in bed. The new mother didn’t need telling twice and she settled back against the covers, watching as Nat pulled on some long pyjama pants to fight off the cold.

The nursery door was open slightly and Natasha pushed it open, wiping the sleep from her eyes as the relentless cries hit her full force. They were coming from Y/n’s crib so she quickly checked on Isla, who was surprisingly fast asleep, her little arms raised above her head.

With a contented hum, Natasha moved back over to the other side of the room and scooped her wailing daughter into her arms, holding her tightly to her chest as she made her way downstairs. For a small baby, she sure was loud.

“Shh malyshka, please,” Natasha pleaded, bouncing her daughter against her chest. “What’s wrong my darling?”

Obviously the six week old in her arms wasn’t about to respond, so Natasha quickly heated up a bottle of milk and brought it up to her wrist to check the temperature, just like the books had told her to.

But Y/n didn’t care when the bottle was brought to her lips, she just turned her head and kept crying, her face bright red and screwed up. Natasha tried a couple more times, rubbing it along her lips almost in desperation. The stone floor of the kitchen was freezing her bare feet but she didn’t notice. Too hung up on trying to be a good mom.

“Ok, if you’re not hungry, did something spook you?” She was thinking aloud as she padded over the soft carpet to the couch, sinking down into the corner and holding Y/n close. “It’s ok, you’re safe, malyshka. Mama’s got you.”

With this new position, Y/n’s head was resting against Natasha’s chest, her warm cheek burning against her mother’s cool skin. Her cries subsided momentarily before they started up again and Natasha bit her lip.

“Is that what you like? Mama’s skin?” Y/n sniffled again and Natasha took that as a yes, pulling the neck of her tank top down just that little bit further so Y/n could nuzzle into her collarbones whilst she still stayed modest.

Natasha thought she’d finally hit the jackpot when Y/n settled down and her cries faded to whimpers. But when was she ever that lucky? Not even ten seconds had gone by before the piercing sound piped up again and a small part of her wanted to cry too.

“Malyshka,” she cooed, stroking the frown lines that had etched themselves on her daughter’s head. “You’re okay sweet girl, you’re okay.” She kept muttering words to her daughter and rocking her gently, stroking her back as they laid on the couch together.

Y/n finally stopped crying as Natasha spoke, and finally it all clicked.

“You like Mama’s voice, don’t you?” It made sense. Natasha’s voice was deep and it resonated in her chest, creating a comforting vibration for a restless baby. Y/n fussed but her eyes fluttered closed, finally content.

Natasha followed suit, unable to keep her eyes open any longer. But even in her sleepy state, she didn’t let her arms relax or Y/n slip. She was too paranoid for that.

A small whine escaped Y/n’s lips moments later and Natasha shot awake, looking down at her daughter with a frown. But she seemed content and Natasha allowed herself to relax against the cushions once more.

She traced her finger down the slope of her daughter’s nose, humming softly. The beginning of a song she’d heard on the radio earlier reverberated in her chest, soothing both mother and baby. She was an incredibly worried mom, the slightest noise or sign of discomfort from either of the twins setting alarm bells ringing in her head. But her babies were fine, they always would be.

“But I can’t help,” she sang softly, “falling in love with you.”

[zae-heeyyy]

Stelliferous

Summary: You stargaze with Arthur. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 1,353 Tags: fluff, shy, high honor Arthur Warnings: no warnings, enjoy the fluff.

a/n: Just a little something I thought of when I found this camp. Plus, I really wanted to draw a constellation. Fun fact, the game has accurate constellations, and Orion is one of them! I had a lot of fun reading about Orion mythology for this one. And TYSM to my tumblr bestie @littlemistey for helping me get the journal entry just right!

stelliferous: filled with stars or bearing stars, often used to describe a visibly starry night.

As everyone went about their business for the night, you headed to a deserted clearing just beyond camp and sat on the ground. You loved sitting alone, getting lost in the stars and the tales that went with them. Just as you were settling down, the snap of a twig alerted you to someone else's presence. The stars had aligned perfectly for you that night, putting you and Arthur in the same place at the same time.

You rose and looked around, spotting the cowboy leaning against a tree. If it were anybody else, you'd be annoyed, but seeing him there made your heart flutter in all the good ways. You loved looking at him just as much as you loved looking up at the stars. But the stars didn't make you weak in the knees at the sight of them or make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But just like the stars, Arthur always felt so out of reach.

"Things're really goin' downhill back there if a lady would rather sleep in the grass than in her tent," he said. His face was neutral, but you could see a playful glint in his eyes. You hugged your knees to your chest and tried to hide your shyness.

"Oh, hey Arthur, I was just––"

He held out a halting hand and tipped his head.

"I was just jokin, miss. I know what it's like to want some peace and quiet." He pushed himself off the tree and gave a two-finger wave. "Anyway, I won't disturb you."

You spoke out before he could leave. "It's no trouble, Arthur." You turned away from him and cranked your neck to the sky. "Y'ever wonder if it's just us out here?" It wasn't a question you expected him to answer. You were just thinking aloud. He didn't respond for a long moment but sauntered towards you, his boots appearing in your peripheral.

"I don't do much thinkin'."

You turned to glance at him again, shaking your head.

"Oh, hush, Arthur Morgan. We all know you do more thinkin' than any other fool around here."

You could tell he was fighting hard to keep the frown on his face from curving upward.

"That ain't saying much." He chuckled on his exhale, then, with a grunt, sat down beside you. "This whatchu' always doing out here? Just—" he gestured to the sky, "—looking up?"

"Don't knock it til you try it, Arthur." A soft smile formed on your face, and you waited expectantly. He quirked an eyebrow, then put his hands behind his head and laid back. A satisfied grin crossed your face, and you dropped down, too.

You spent the rest of the night pointing out stars and constellations to Arthur, sharing all the stories you knew about them. An hour crept by before a yawn escaped you. Arthur didn't show it, but your departure was the last thing he wanted. With one arm still behind his head and the other slung across his stomach, he kept his eyes trained on the sky above.

He was hooked—not on the stars, but on you. Then and there, he realized he could spend eternity on the ground, captivated by the rise of pitch in your voice when you got excited and how your eyes crinkled at the corners when your smile stretched from ear to ear.

From that night, Arthur used stargazing as his excuse to be near you, sometimes sitting so close to you that your shoulders rubbed when you pointed upward. Once, you turned to ask him a question and noticed him staring at you instead of the sky.

"It's impolite to stare, Mr. Morgan." His expression faltered, and he opened his mouth in a stuttering attempt to damage control.

He didn't need to be ashamed, though; you'd felt his eyes on you many times before. He admired you like you admired the stars, and knowing that sent waves of adoration through you.

Arthur caught up with you another evening just as you were finishing dinner. Golden sunlight reflected on his face as he glanced down at his feet, clutching his hat between his fingers. He reached nervously towards your hand, thought too hard, and placed it back on his hat. He started to speak, his words low and careful.

"Got somethin' to show you—somethin' I found— if you'll ride with me?"

You suppressed a building laugh, trying to save him further embarrassment. It tickled you that someone as audacious as him could be made so flustered by the likes of you. Your amusement was well hidden, and you reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze.

"It's about time you asked me on a ride, Mr. Morgan." He nodded and placed his hat back on his head, the brim shielding the building smile on his face. He walked you to his horse. He got on first and held a strong arm down to pull you up.

The two of you road down the Heartlands, across the Dakota River, and through Bard's Crossing. He slowed when you approached a hill outside Lone Mule Stead. Arthur helped you off the horse with one hand, keeping hold until you stood in front of a campsite that overlooked the Upper Montana River and beyond. The site was breathtaking; you could make out the lights of Blackwater, boats on the water, and the expansive night sky in all its glory. Just to the side of the spot stood a small brass telescope. When you finally saw it, your eyes widened, and you met Arthur's, your mouth agape.

"Found this out here the other day," he gestured towards it, beckoning you.

"Oh, Arthur," you ran your fingers across the smooth brass cylinder. You shook your head in slow incredulity. "I've never seen one in person, only seen 'em in books."

Arthur removed the cap on the end, letting it swing on its chain. He nodded toward the viewing device again, and you walked around to the lens, bending to look through it.

"I hope it's everything you read about, miss." His voice was comforting, like the soft rumble of distant thunder. Breathless, you pressed your eye to the lens, and a speckled blanket of black engulfed your vision. Truthfully, the stars were the same as always, but knowing Arthur had curated this moment, just for you, made the night sky more beautiful than ever. When you were done taking it in, you stood to see Arthur watching you from a few feet away. You approached the crate he was sitting on, your hands outstretched and reaching for his.

"Thank you, really," you said. The gunslinger stood and accepted your hands, his lips pressed together tightly as if opening his mouth would betray him. His eyes were strictly focused on your clasped hands. Surely, if his mouth would betray him, his eyes would too.

"Arthur." His name coming off your lips so endearingly could kill him. He finally looked up, his mouth falling open to speak, but you didn't give him the chance. You rose on your toes, your lips crashing against his hurriedly. When he finally realized what was happening, his shoulders fell relaxed, and he wrapped two arms around your waist, pulling you into him. Your mouths moved in sync with each other's until you pulled away for air. Heat had built up in his face, and you saved him the trouble of hiding his blush by wrapping your arms around him tight.

As breathtaking as it was, you forwent the telescope for the rest of the night, opting to wrap yourself in Arthur's arms instead. You pointed up at a line of bright stars.

"See those three? That's Orion's Belt."

"Orion?" he asked, saying the name as if it were a foreign language.

"Orion. He was a hunter—a big and strong one. They say he was a bit of a drunk brute, too. He reminds me of someone." You didn't need to peel your eyes away from the warrior in the sky to feel the warmth of the one right next to you, a knowing, gentle smile on his lips.

[dantakeyoman]

omg.. i need a pt 2 to the seeing you for the first time :") it was so well written!! maybe something where he keeps staring at her and not doing well to adapt until his parents scold him?? if ur too busy then no need obv, but yeah i like ut writing alot !! 🫶🫶

Neteyam Is Struggling In Learning The Metkayina Ways, So You Give Him Some Encouragement (SFW)

Part 2 of "Head Over Heels"

CW: simp Neteyam, touchy reader, Lo'ak and Kiri duo, annoyed Ao’nung, reader is lowkey kinda crazy lol ( but in a good way i swear ), i headcannon that the Sully kids use beads as a barter system of some sort, and the person with the most beads has the most bragging rights, which is why Lo’ak and Neteyam have so many in their hair ( they bet a lot), Kiri has a few, and Tuk has next to none ( she doesn’t really understand it, but still attempts to )

“Neteyam, how many times have I told you? You must breathe from here, not here,” you playfully scolded, placing your hand on his chest and stomach to show how he was doing it wrong.

Neteyam’s breath hitched, already feeling his heart rate pick up.

Shit.

You moved you hand from on top of his lungs, to on top of his heart, and sighed.

It was practically going a mile a minute, like every other time you had checked these past two weeks.

“And your heartbeat. You must calm down, Neteyam. Allow your mind to go blank, and your heart rate to slow.”

It had been the same shtick since the boy got here.

All of the other Sullys had taken to their lessons swimmingly, now able to keep up with Ao’nung and Tsireya.

But Neteyam was the only one that couldn’t quite get the breathing right.

When Ao’nung taught him how to ride an ilu, he got it almost immediately. It only took him two tries.

When Rotxo taught him some basic sign language, he got each gesture the moment it was shown to him.

So why was he having so much trouble when you showed him some simple breathing techniques?

Little did you know, the boy could to do the breathing perfectly fine.

Practicing in his free time, he had managed to get it on his own.

But in order to graduate from his lessons, he had to keep up the technique for 5 minutes, with you checking to make sure he maintained the proper form.

And that was the root of the problem.

In order to check, you had to touch him, feel up on his chest.

And that always sent his heart into a frenzy, making all memory of the technique go out the window.

You were just so...you.

Every time you got anywhere near him, everything about you would flood his senses.

Your smell, your voice, hell, just your aura in general. 

It would all cloud his mind, and leave him unable to think about anything else.

It was overwhelming, and made it so he couldn’t be anywhere near you unless he wanted to become a stuttering idiot.

Which was, obviously, impossible to avoid during your lessons.

How does Dad do this everyday?

Who knew having an angel could be so frustrating.

“Here,” you started, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I think I have one more way to help you get it.”

He watched you, intently, as you tied a large rock to a really long stalk of kelp, then tied it to your ankle.

Once it was secure, you gave him a warm smile, which practically turned him to putty.

Fuck.

“See you later,” you winked, pushing the rock in the water and jumping in after it.

Neteyam stared, confused, as he watched you sink.

What is she doing?

2 minutes go by.

Is this normal?

4 minutes go by.

Okay, something’s up.

5 minutes go by.

That’s it.

Neteyam quickly dove into the water, frantically looking around to find any sign of you.

When he couldn’t see anything, he swam deeper, turning at a large coral reef.

There was no way you could’ve disappeared. So why couldn’t he find you?

It was scaring him.

What if you drowned? What if you were attacked by a predator? What if you had been swept away by the current?

These thoughts only fueled him more. And when he made it past this giant school of fish, he saw you.

The fish had been obstructing his vision at first, but he could now see that you were floating in the water, limply, as the rock from before kept you tethered to the ground.

Without hesitation, he swam towards you, whipping out his knife and cutting off the kelp stalk, before taking you in his arms, dragging you up.

He could feel himself slowly running out of air, but he had to stay strong. He couldn’t let you drown, not like this.

Not when he could’ve saved you sooner.

“Sure, men can have angels. But only real men can protect them,” his father’s words repeated in his head, keeping him going.

He was a real man.

And he was going to be his angel’s protector.

When the two of you broke the surface, he let out a loud gasp, flopping the both of you back onto the rock, panting.

When he turned to you, you were unconscious, laying still on the stone.

“(y/n)! (y/n), are you alright?!” Neteyam frantically asked, trying to shake you awake, pressing on your chest a few times.

That seemed to do the trick because you gasped, coughing up a little bit of water as your eyes snapped open.

“For Eywa’s sake! You surely took your time,” you breathlessly laughed, looking up at the boy with a smile.

“I-...wait....YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE?!” he exclaimed, shocked.

He was absolutely befuddled. You scared him half to death, and you did it on purpose?

“I’m sorry I tricked you. But that was the only way I could see the breathing get through your thick skull,” you apologized, giving him a little flick in his temple, making his nose twitch.

It made your smile grow.

He looked cute when he was shocked.

Without warning, he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Please don’t scare me like that ever again,” he asked, his voice quiet and slightly broken.

It made you blush, and your heart wrench, at the same time.

You hadn’t thought he cared for you that much. Not to the point where he sounded like he was on the verge of tears at your death.

It made you guilty for pulling such a cruel stunt.

But it also made you feel loved, loved in a way you had never felt love before.

“I am really sorry, Neteyam,” you apologized once more, your joking tone gone.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he backed out the hug, keeping him close.

He expression turned confused, and you gave him a chaste kiss as an answer, making his eyes blow wide.

This was really happening. You were really holding him. You were really kissing him.

Eywa, please don’t let this be a dream.

You kept it short and sweet, long enough to let him feel your emotion, but short enough to make him want more.

When you pulled away, his lips chased you a little bit, mindlessly, and you giggled.

“Let’s take it slow, forest boy,” you smiled, placing a hand on his lips.

He nodded frantically, like a child being promised candy, and it made you burst into full laughter.

This boy made you feel happier than you had in a long time.

“C’mon, let’s go for a swim,” you suggested, moving your hand from his mouth and nodding towards the water.

“I’m in,” he smiled, staring at you with an enamored glint in his eye.

That’s when you remembered.

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better,” you started with a smirk, turning to him and resting your hands on his chest.

His breath hitched, and his heart picked up speed yet again.

You leaned into his ear, dropping your voice to a whisper.

“You passed.”

The way you said the words made a shiver go down his spine, and a warmth spread through his body, it’s origins being your hands.

You pulled back, flashing him an innocent smile as if what you did was the most natural thing in the world.

But he knew better.

You knew exactly what you were doing to him, hiding it behind that beautiful smile and those gorgeous eyes.

Little did you know that that was making you all the more enticing.

Who knew his angel could be such a little troublemaker?

bonus !!

Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Ao’nung watched you kiss Neteyam in the distance, their ilu lessons being put on hold for the spectacle.

“Look at my bro. It’s only two weeks and he’s getting some tail in,” Lo’ak smirked, setting a reminder in his head to congratulate his brother the next time he saw him. 

“You better tell him to keep his hands to himself,” Ao’nung grumbled, turning to Kiri.

He did not find the situation as amusing as Lo’ak.

“Tell her that,” Kiri playfully scoffed, watching you move your hands down to his chest.

“Are Neteyam and (y/n) mates now?” Tuk asked, tugging on Lo’ak’s arm.

“No. But it’s only a matter of time,” he shrugged, ruffling her hair.

“Hey!” Ao’nung exclaimed, shooting the boy a sharp glare.

“I’m betting a week,” Kiri smirked, crossing her arms as she turned to her brother, holding up a satchel of beads.

“I’ll take action,” he smirked back, holding up his own.

“I hate you all,” Ao’nung groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

But in all honesty, knowing his sister, he gave it a few days.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Inn Love Chapter 3

one two

cw: money issue talks, feelings of failure, james and reader being in love and idiots, a little angst (?) friends to lovers

wc: 2.6

“It’s not looking good,” you mutter to Mary, head in your hands as you go over the accounts one more time. 

“It’s the off season, we’ll find something else to do.” 

She’s too kind, too understanding. You wish she’d blow up at you and quit for not being able to pay her on time. 

You sigh, long and hard. You have to figure it out. The Secret Garden is your baby, and even though this is your second year owning it, you’ve still not figured out how to supplement the off season so you make a profit. 

You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to. 

“We might have to. How do you feel about starting up line dancing lessons for a little bit? Just until I figure it out?” 

Mary grins, nodding her head. “I’ve missed it some. Won’t exactly be hard to get back into.” 

Mary’s the best worker you have. The only one you have really, but she’s still the best. 

You close up your books, and double check that all the rooms have been checked out of and begin locking up. 

James is waiting for you on your front steps, hat tipped low as he leans against one of the beams. 

“Hey Jamie, didn’t know you were stopping by.” 

You try for chipper, a smile in your voice as you hold your tote bag on your shoulder. 

“Wanted to see if you wanted to get lunch with me.”

You pause, reaching right in front of him. It’s instant, the way a frown fights for the space of your smile. It’s also instant the way James notices. 

“What’s wrong?” He takes your bag from you, leading you to his truck. 

“Nothing. Where are we getting lunch?” 

James frowns a little bit, but doesn’t press. “Had Chinese dropped off to the house, got all your favourites.” 

You grin, James does this a lot and it makes your stomach flip every time. 

“Meet you there?” 

James frowns again, then shrugs. “Yeah, darling.” 

You double back to your own truck, James setting your bag in the bench seat. 

You watch James pull out first and take a moment to collect all your worry and all your anxiety and stuff it deep in your chest, burying it with a bit of hay before sighing. 

You can’t let James see you’re worried or anxious, he’ll sniff the information out of you and if you tell James then you’d have failed. 

The first year it was understandable, the second year; you’re not sure you could tell the person who helped you build the inn from the ground up that you’ve been having months of money troubles. 

You pull up behind James, sliding out of your car and racing him to the front door. 

“You still cheat.” he says with a smile, you shrug while pushing open the door. Inside James’ house, you’d think it was hot, all the southern heat trapped in the walls, but it’s always cool. 

He’d explained it to you once, the stone and wood kept it cool, but also he had put in a central air con to maintain the chill. 

“I got shorter legs than you James, it’d never be fair.” 

James shakes his head, following you to his dining table where all the boxes are already laid out. 

“How much noodles am I allowed?” James rolls his eyes. You always eat most of it and he always gets you your own box because why deprive you of your favourite thing?

James doesn’t think there’s actually anything he could deprive you of. 

“Does lack of sleep mess with your memory?”

You grin when he passes you an entire box, and then the rest of what you usually like.

As you eat, the talking kind of subsides, which is weird by yours and James’ standards.

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” He asks when you migrate to the living room, laying out long on his sofa while he sits with your feet in his lap. 

“What do you mean, Jamie?” You try hard not to stiffen your body as you respond. 

He sighs, hands squeezing the arches of your feet. “I dunno, something feels wrong. Like you feel down.” 

God you could cry right now. James has always been in tune to you like this, as you are with him, but it sometimes gets to be too much because lying to your best friend hurts. Especially when he can tell something is off. 

“Just tired I guess.” you shrug one of your shoulders. James hums but doesn’t say anything and you feel guilt like a hot poker in your stomach. 

You wiggle your toes in his lap and his hands fall back to massaging them. 

“Wanna watch ‘How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days’?” 

James never has to ask twice. 

You don’t mean to, but you and James fall asleep right there on his sofa. Some time during the night you’ve shifted, he’s laying under you and your head is on part of his chest with your legs tangled up. 

The only reason you wake up is because James’ alarm is blaring and you’ve got the worst crick in your neck.

“Make it stop,” you grumble, hiding your face in his chest as he stretches. It’s comfortable even for friends, the way James holds onto your waist as he leans over you to grab his phone. 

“Shit, s’nearly four. You gotta go darling.” 

You’d lasted nearly a whole three minutes without thinking about the fact that The Secret Garden wasn’t doing well. 

Almost awkwardly, which is strange for you and James, you sit up. As you stretch all your joints crack and you sigh where James winces. He’s always hated how you can just crack your bones like that- he worries you’ll break them one day. 

“Nah I got the day off.” 

James’ eyebrows shoot up. “So the TSG is closed today?” 

You wish your friend wouldn’t ask so many questions. Lying to him is hard work. 

“Mary’s running the morning shift today.” James looks a little sceptical but drops it, making his way to the stairs. 

“M’gonna get ready. You staying on the ranch then?” 

You nod, what else is there for you to do? Plus if you use your ‘day off’ to be anywhere but the ranch, say going job hunting or to the bank, your quiet little town will somehow have your going-ons back to James in no time. 

“Heat up breakfast and I’ll make us coffee.” James is back down in ten minutes, showered and changed into his wranglers, a thin white t-shirt and his work boots. 

You’re sure you’ve got yours around here somewhere.

James and you work like a well greased machine, making breakfast and coffee and doing the dishes all in one go. 

He tilts his head to the screen door in the kitchen that leads to his side porch.  

“Wanna watch the sunrise with me and then go round do some ranch chores?” 

“Still got my boots in the coat closet?” you ask and James rolls his eyes. 

“When has anything of yours left this house? You’re everywhere in here.” His gaze is too intense for you to laugh it off. It also makes you feel like you’ve caged race horses in your stomach and they’re butting their fences. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Jamie.” is all you can manage before going in search of your boots.

James doesn’t think it’s a bad thing at all. Honestly, he wishes there were more of you in his house; he’s just not sure if saying that to you will cost him everything. 

Shoving your feet into the boots you sigh, then take a peek out at the sky and shiver. “I’m taking a coat.”

“Take anything you want.” 

This is why you can’t tell James about your money troubles. He’s going to give you anything to turn it around, but you’re not sure if anything he can give will. You also can’t use him anymore than you already do. 

“Race you to the stables!” James takes off before you can even put down your empty mug. 

“You’re such a cheater!” You whine as you race behind him, his laugh floating back to you as you reach the stable doors. 

“Takes one to know one,” he says playfully, causing you to roll your eyes.

James holds the door open for you and as soon as you get in you head for Snowglobe. 

“My baby,”  you coo, already kissing the side of his face while James lets his own horse, Landslide, out.  

“You’d swear he wasn’t nearly twenty three.”

“Don’t remind me Jamie.” you grab a brush and go through the usual maintenance just as James does with his horse. 

“We’re riding up to the fences to check on the horses, then we’re feeding them.” James talks about his day like it’s easy, but you remember the hard work that goes into ranching. You’ve got your work cut out for you, and you’re not even doing the hard stuff like moving hay or any of that. 

“Lead the way, Cowboy.” 

After a couple hours, you go back to the big house and take a shower, well and truly exhausted. James wouldn’t let you haul hay, so you’d been feeding the animals, cleaning the stables and doing a bit of general cleaning up around the ranch while he and his farmhands mended parts of the fence, herded the cows and hauled the dried heaps of hay. 

By the time James comes in, you’re halfway through preparing dinner- beef stew. 

“I would’ve cooked after my shower, darling.” James says as he hangs up his hat and boots. 

“Yeah, but now by the time you come back down, we can eat together.” 

James frowns again, you’ve never been away from TSG for this long since it’s been opened and it’s worrying him that you won’t talk to him about it. 

If he’s honest, you haven’t gushed about the inn since you left it yesterday- which is very unlike you. That place is your pride and joy and everyone knows it. Especially James. 

He holds his tongue on his worry and nods. 

“I’ll be back in ten.” 

Through dinner, you’re on your phone, checking your accounts, trying to see where you can make more money or if you’ll have to do the one thing you don’t want to. 

After your sixth sigh in ten minutes, James sets his cutlery down and reaches a hand for you.

“Darling, I know you said it’s nothing, but it’s clearly not. Can you tell me what’s wrong, please?”

Before you can answer, Sirius bursts through James’ house. 

“Did you see TSG’s been closed all day? Wonder if everything’s okay.” 

You freeze in your seat when James turns to you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. 

Sirius coughs to dispel his embarrassment. “Sorry doll face. But why are you closed? Is everything alright?” 

You can’t even be upset with Sirius because for all of his faults, he’s always concerned about you. He feels very much like an older brother in that way, even when he’s giving you shit. 

You rest your head on the table and sigh. 

“Don’t be upset Jamie,” you start, slow and more than a little nervous. You don’t know how you’ll feel if James is angry with you. You don’t want to feel like a failure to him. You don’t want to fail yourself even more. 

“I think I’m gonna have to close the inn.” 

Sirius gasps, James frowns. “Forever or for a while?” 

You lift your head, “For a while. I’m not sure how long. I’ve got to go over the account but we’re not making a profit right now.” 

“Darling,” he says at the same time Sirius swears. 

Tears spring in your eyes. “I know, it hasn’t been making profit or any sort of money for a couple months but I thought it would pick up again, but I guess late summer is not our season.” 

James stands quickly when your first tear falls and Sirius ruffles your head. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed about, it happens. I can help you work through it.” You shake your head at James’ proposal. 

“You helped me start it up and I can’t even keep it running through the entire year. I can’t expect you to help me every year that I have a slow period.” 

Sirius tuts, “You could always sell your bakes in the off time, dollface.” 

James wipes your tears away, “I can still help. I don’t mind helping out.” 

You shake your head. Sirius seems to get it before James does, and what it is you’re trying to say. 

“No Jamie, I think maybe working on the ranch or doing a little baking on the side would be good. Right doll?” 

You nod, “I don’t wanna keep using you Jamie.” 

James tuts, tilting your chin up. Sirius takes his cue and goes into the kitchen, looking through James’ pantry. 

“You don’t use me. You’ve never used me.” It’s hard to argue with James when he speaks with such conviction but you know you have. 

“But I did. When I was opening up TSG, it was you helping me.” 

James smiles then, “Yeah I helped, darling. It was a mutual thing. We’re friends, of course I helped you. And I can help again, but if you want to do this part on your own, I’d get it.” 

James wipes your tears, gentle and sweet as ever. “I need to go do a final closing for the season and set some things in place, but can I stay here in the meantime?” You force the words out, soft and whispered against the space between you and James. 

“You can stay here as long as you like,” 

“Thanks Jamie.” 

He shrugs, dimple poking out in his cheek as he smiles at you. “You’re always welcome darling, c’mon I’ll drive you to TSG and help with lock up.” 

As it turns out, telling James you’d been struggling wasn’t that bad. It was hard and you’d felt like a failure for a little bit, but he talked good sense into you and now you’re staying with him till the start of autumn. 

“I can work the ranch, Jamie.” You proposed on your second night on his sofa. 

“You cannot work the entire ranch.” James wasn’t even being funny about it either. You really can’t. You get cut up easily and you blister worse than he does. 

“Okay, I can work the stables.” 

James rolls his eyes good naturedly, tossing a bit of popcorn at you. You’d both been watching a new horror that James had seen advertising. Watching is a generous word because you both talk through all the dull parts and you squeeze his fingers in anxiety during the freaky parts. 

“As opposed to?” 

You giggle, “Hey, I can work the garden or help milk the cows.” 

James chuckles then, his dimple on display making you want to poke your finger in it. “Same cows you’re afraid of? You can work the stables darling, you know your way around it.” 

You squeal, leaning up and closer to James to kiss his cheek. You love doing it because James goes red hot and can’t stop his flush. Even as kids he’d go beet red the minute you gave him a kiss to his cheek. 

“You’re the best James. The best ever.” 

He grins, “I’m glad you finally noticed.” The pillow behind your head whacks him in the face as you groan. 

“That was yuck, don’t ever say that again.” James laughs through your disgust, slotting your pillow behind your back again and holding your feet in his lap as the horror builds. 

[newkatzkafe2023]

I would *love* to see the genderbent version of the Baby Fever / "Impregnate me now!" post. Depending on the Monkey, it could be the Queen herself rather than the S/O asking for a baby

Ohhhhhhhhhh I agree on the queen part, yes indeed😁😁😁

(Lmk Wukong) You have been giving her baby fever for a long time, for years you had tended to no only the baby monkeys FFM but also to Mk, Mei and for some reason Redson. Your like another father to them, a scary one but well not as scary as pigsy but your Definitely much stricter then him as you push Mk a bit to do better things Mostly for her own good. One day she and Mk lost you at that Mall, and the found you comforting a crying girl who got lost from her mother. She cried and hid her face in your chest, and you wrapped you jacket around her she was immediately comforted as she called you baba feeling safe with you while you spoke with mall security. Yup that was the final straw..........

(Wukong) Mk their's something I need to tell My husband

Back At FFM

(Wukong) IMPREGNATE ME AT ONCE!!!!!!

(Male Y/n)HUUUUHHHH?!?!?!?!?😳😳😳🥵🥵🥵

(NR Wukong) I doubt she would get baby fever on the fly, but you do things that may build up to it. Like it's one thing for you to take Care of Li as you treat her like a daughter and treating Her boyfriend Stu like a son. What stranger is that you do the same for Their friends as well, even spoiled rich girl Ao bing wasn't safe from your fathering. Wukong finally asked what has gotten into you lately, that's when you told her that you wanted a baby cub. You told her, when a lost boy had mistaken you as his father and even when you found his real father, he still wouldn't stop calling you baba and you felt strange ever since😣. Wukong jaw dropped her husband got baby fever and he doesn't even know, well then...........

(Wukong) F*CK ME!!!!!!🤤🥵

(Male y/n)...........................Now I normally would but I feel like it's different this time😳😦

(HIB Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh boi you make her ovaries explode every second of every day. I mean, they did that when she first met you, and you kept doing that now. You take care of silly boy the most making sure he stays out of trouble, and make sure to groom Luier and take care of her hair. When Wukong saw that she was down for the count, then you delt the final blow when you were called baba by both the kids and some other children in the village who saw you as a father figure. Wukong couldn't take it anymore

(Wukong) cubs, cubs, Cubs CUBS!!!!! I WANT MORE CUBS🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

(Male y/n) WUKONG PLEASE WE'RE IN PUBLIC!!!!!😣😳

(MKR Wukong) She would never know she had baby fever until its to late for her, like it's was one thing for fruity to address you as baba and you don't have an opinion on it. Then she sees it everywhere you guys go together, whether it be a small boy who needs his ball back from a tree, or a little girl who sad that her plushie ripped and you sat there and sew it back to together. Then what shocked Wukong was how you got lots of rebellious teenagers to open up and vent alot easier then the monk and even their own parents did. Wukong was admittedly impressed with your quirks, but the blow was a mother struggling with her baby and you took the baby boy from her and he immediately stopped crying as you spoke sofly to him.

(Wukong) I.....I think I wanna baby😳😳😳

(Male Y/n) Yeah, I'll do that in a minute hun🙄😒😑

(Netflix Wukong) Now I see her baby fever being caused by her lack their of a family growing up😥 She was all alone for most of her youth until you made it better. Well then she met dragon king, and Lin and finally you, the village weirdo although you were completely unorthodox you were kind, patient and supportive. You never judged her and for that she fell in love with you, but lately she's been feeling a bit hollow like something is missing until she saw what it was. You were playing with the village children, from making up games, and drawing and making snacks for them. Wukong eyes Widened at the care you give to them, and so it clicked she knew what was missing.

(Wukong) Y/n...I want a baby🥺

(Male y/n) ABOUT TIME I wasn't doing all the fatherly stuff for NO reason😑😠

(BMW Wukong) You were always quite rough around the edges and that's what she like about you, but what she didn't know what about your baby fever. It was a bit before she met you and you were hired to watch over a celestials child for a few days, and you turned out to be more of a father then the girls really that which broke your heart then you met your wife. You never brought it up to her in fear of you would come off as pressuring her, but your wife was smarter and more aware then you thought.

(Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh Y/n, how do you feel about cubs

(Male Y/n) I would like that, but I hope you know their might be more than one at the first try😐😐😐

(Wukong)..........what do you mean by that😳😳😳😳😳

(Destined one) Ok, so you were acting strange lately. She's been noticing how you like to lay on her stomach at all times while slightly whimpering. She felt your hollow feelings and mild depression and it's been going on for a while. When the destined one asked what was wrong, you just told her that something was missing. That when you and your wife had separate experiences, she had saved a young child from another demon who wanted to eat her, and the little clung on to her for safety while in the village you had tended to a crying little girl who scraped her knees and you put a Bandage on it making her smile and you both figured out what was missing.

(Destined one) IMPREGNATE ME AT ONCE!!!😫😫😫

(Male Y/n) I WANNA A BABY MONKEY CUB!!!!!!🤩🤩🤩

(Both) WAIT REALLY?!?!?!?😳😳😳

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[squerlly]

Fair Exchange chapter 4

------"in the end the, we only regret the chances we didn't take"-------

Alastor x (F! wife doe reader)

The Buck----------------------------------------------------

I felt a little pent up from yesterday's... inconveniences so I decided to hunt for my breakfast rather than have y/n prepare it. she reluctantly agreed since it gave her some free time to enjoy the morning. I have never seen her eat a proper breakfast but I'm sure she is eating something with all that energy she has to clean. I tried to ignore the yelling and loud blast I heard from downstairs by turning up the music on my radio.

humming to the music and enjoying the savory taste of fresh venison, I was rudely interrupted when a certain someone burst through my door "Alastor!!" vaggie said with irritation in her tone "Do you mind, I'm in the middle of breakfast" she rolls her eyes and steps aside revealing 5 little eggs.

"pentiouses eggs are all over the place and I need you to get rid of them!" I toss my utensils aside and conjure my radio staff "Well in that case I would be delighted to" she glares at me "Humanly!!" "hmm well that's a lot less fun~ but I suppose I can take care of that on my outing today" I pass by her in the hallway, the little egg things following me around. in the hallway, I ran into y/n who was carrying back her freshly dried laundry and just happened to glance behind me.

she stops with a little smile on her face "Well if it isn't you cute little things" she says bending down to pat one of the eggs on the top of their shell. they all surround her and compliment her while she giggles, her smile widening each time. I have noticed more and more that she has been happier here at the hotel, mingling with the strange bunch of sinners. I haven't seen her smile like that in almost 10 years, it almost makes me.... "where are you taking them?" she says pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Apparently they have been quite the trouble makers and I have been asked to get rid of them" and that once bright smile then turns into a small frown "Do they have to goo?" she whines and for a moment there's something about her tone of voice, her frown and her eyes that makes my chest tighten. I have never hesitated when getting rid of someone or something, especially if it was necessary but right this moment... I might have to reconsider.

"I'm afraid so my dear" I say trying to push down that feeling and focus on the fact I'm about to be late for a meeting. "the overlords have been called out to a meeting and I will not return until very late so please don't worry about preparing dinner" she gives me an understanding nod before giving the little eggs a hug "goodbye little egg boys..." and standing to walk off to her room.

I continue on downstairs and out the door, walking the streets of hell with 5 eggs. they kept asking me question after question and I started to feel less guilty about getting rid of them "What does y/n see in you... things" I say while they just look at me curiously. there lucky I only have a craving for venison and coffee otherwise, I would have had them scrambled for breakfast.

just around the block of Carmilla's company building a black shadow that looks all too familiar stops me in my tracks "Halt Alastor!!" I stop and a ting of excitement pools through me "Who is that boss? Want me to ruff him up for ya!" one of the little egg boys spat. I turned tapping him on the head with my radio staff "Follow in silence if you value your shell.." I once again turned my attention to the tall demon in front of me.

"greetings zestial~" Zestial is the oldest overlord, he and I are fairly acquainted to an extent. we both make small talk while walking towards the elevator of the building, the little egg boys following not far behind before I take my staff blocking them from entering the elevator with us "No no I have a very important task for you, guard the front and wait for my return~" "you got it, boss!"

Zestial and I greet the other overlords before entering the board room, setting myself next to dear Rosie. Carmilla walks in shortly after, her steel heels clanking with every step and her daughters at her side "Welcome hell's sovereign overlords, I have invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city. together you own millions of souls, souls at risk with the new extermination schedule" She continues on before noticing Zestial who took a seat next to her, a cup of tea conjured in his hand "Zestial always good to see you, my friend" "enchanted as always Carmilla~"

she then turns towards me with a somewhat shocked expression "Alastor?" "yes, I know I've been absent some time. I'm sure you've all been wondering" "Not really but welcome back in any case..." The nerve she had but, I let it slide. She talks about the amount of demons that got killed this year before the door slams open and the last person I was hoping to see walks in.

"nice of you to join us velvet, will your colleagues be joining us?..." I hope not "No they have better shit to do!" she scowls and moves on "So, we need to discuss-" she raises her hand "Yes velvet.." "On the subject of discussion-" she says standing on the table and tossing an exorcist's head "Oh tasty~" I say while inspecting the head, I found it rather strange that angels bleed literal liquid gold but knowing that the hell-born bleed black I'm not to surprised.

they continue to chat on about things that I find irrelevant before Carmilla and Velvet start arguing about going to war with heaven. It's a reckless decision, one that I wouldn't want to take part in considering that I don't have much of an issue with the exterminations. but just as quickly as the meeting started it ended "Well that was a productive meeting!"

everyone exits the boardroom before I spot Zestial walking away with Carmilla. I look around and spot one little egg that has followed us inside "Hay you little egg creature, I have a job for you. follow them!" and with that I head back outside to the front.

The rest of the eggs are about the area, rummaging through trash and whatnot. I wonder how I will get rid of these things, they don't seem as harmful as vaggie says they are.

eventually, the little egg comes back out of the elevator "Sooo, what did you hear?" he started rambling on before I caught something that I heard to be useful "What was that last part?" "she killed the a-angel..." Carmilla Carmine killed an exorcist. that's quite useful even if I don't have a use for it but perhaps in the future. "keep this between us, why don't you!?" "you got it, boss!!" and with that, we make our way back to the hotel.

I walk through the doors of the hotel with the 5 little eggs behind me "Alastor!" vaggie says from atop the stairs "Failed to get rid of the eggs I see?" "Yes well, the little monsters proved to be rather useful~" and perhaps for another reason, speaking of... "y/n walks over seeing the 5 eggs in one piece "your back and- you didn't get rid of them!"

she picks one up and holds it close, her smile returning. that feeling that I had returned... that chest aching, fuzzy warm feeling. maybe I'm just exaggerating, am I sick?... no demons cant get sick were already dead...

"Alastor?" she says in her sweet soft voice, I meet her gaze and she looks at me with a sense of worry, but why. "yes my dear?" "Are you alright, You're spacing out" She says setting the little egg creature to run off with Pentious before stepping closer to me "I'm.. alright, don't worry about me. why don't you head off to bed you look a bit tired"

her smile falters slightly "Alright..." she says before walking upstairs. whatever this feeling is I need to kill it, it's preventing me from thinking straight. maybe I should see Rosie sometime this week...

sorry if this chapter feels a little boring but it does have some important details in there ;). chapter 5 is almost ready for posting so as always stay tuned and have a wonderful day/night much love!!!

-squerlly

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz @kimmis-stuff

for more content and chapters please click this masterlist

[matcha3mochi]

kuroo tetsurou x reader

ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

Nekoma’s gym was alive with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the court, volleyballs slamming into the floor, and the usual banter flying between the team members. You, the team’s lively and ever-playful manager, were standing on the sidelines, clipboard in hand, watching the boys run through their drills. Occasionally, you’d call out playful critiques, just to rile them up.

“Lev! That spike had all the power of a kitten batting at a ball of yarn!” you hollered, grinning when Lev glared at you but couldn’t help the smirk creeping onto his face.

But your attention kept drifting toward Kuroo, the captain, as it often did. Every time he flashed that cocky smirk or flipped his hair out of his eyes, your heart did a little flip. Not that you’d ever admit it, but you had a pretty big crush on him. Your playful jabs and teasing were just a way to hide it. And it didn’t help that the way Kuroo joked back made it hard to tell if he was just being friendly—or if maybe, just maybe, he liked you back.

You were still lost in thought when Lev and Yamamoto strolled over, grinning like they were about to stir up trouble. “Yo, Kuroo! We gotta ask—what’s going on with you and Ayame from 3-B?”

Kuroo, who was setting the ball at the net, looked up with a confused frown. “Ayame? What about her?”

Lev smirked. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, huh? Walking her to class? Talking during lunch? Spill it, man. You like her, don’t you?”

You felt your heart sink, though you kept your usual grin firmly in place. Kuroo��� and Ayame? Your gut twisted at the thought, but outwardly, you were as nonchalant as ever.

“Oooh, Kuroo’s got a crush?” you teased, though it took a little more effort than usual. “That’s big news. What’s this, Captain? Are you off the market?”

Kuroo sighed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Guys, seriously? I don’t like Ayame. She needed help with her chemistry work, that’s all.”

Yamamoto grinned, still unconvinced. “Riiight. Helping with homework, sure. But are you helping with feelings too?”

Kuroo shot him a glare, clearly annoyed now. But you? You couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief. Okay, so maybe there’s no Ayame situation. But still… You couldn’t shake the lingering weirdness that came with the thought of him liking someone else.

The team continued to tease Kuroo, but he eventually brushed them off and shot you a look that had you raising an eyebrow. Something in his expression was different—serious, almost. “Hey, can we talk for a second? In private?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Sure,” you replied, pushing off the bench and following him toward a quieter corner of the gym. Your heart raced as you walked behind him, trying to figure out what this could be about. Could it be that he…?

Once you were alone, Kuroo turned to face you, looking oddly nervous. You couldn’t help but grin. Seeing the usually smooth and confident Kuroo looking a little flustered was new, and you had to admit, it was kind of cute.

“What’s up, Captain? Are you finally ready to admit you have a secret love for Ayame?” you teased, but your grin faltered when Kuroo gave you a serious look.

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not into Ayame. I’m into someone else.”

Your heart stopped. Wait. What?

Kuroo took a deep breath, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Look, I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while, and I just… I like you, okay? I’ve liked you for a while now.”

For a second, you just stared at him, your brain short-circuiting. You had not been expecting that.

“You… like me?” you echoed, still trying to process what he was saying. This had to be some kind of prank, right? The guys were going to jump out from behind the bleachers any second now.

Kuroo nodded, looking a little more relieved now that he’d finally said it. “Yeah. You. I thought you would’ve picked up on it by now, but I guess I’m not as smooth as I thought.”

You blinked, still processing. But instead of answering, your brain did something entirely different: it malfunctioned.

“Oh,” you said dumbly, staring at him with wide eyes. And then, because your body was apparently a traitor, you blurted out, “So… wait. Did you just confess? To me?”

Kuroo blinked, a little confused by your reaction. “Uh, yeah. That’s what I just did.”

“Oh,” you repeated, feeling your face heat up as you realized you weren’t handling this very well. But then, before you could stop yourself, your brain took over in the worst way possible.

You laughed.

Not a cute, flustered giggle, but a full-on laugh. The kind that had you doubling over, hands on your knees. “Oh my god, this is not how I imagined this going!” you wheezed, unable to stop yourself.

Kuroo looked like he’d just been hit with a volleyball. “Wait—what?”

You tried to rein in your laughter, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “No, no, I don’t mean it like that!” you gasped, still giggling. “It’s just—oh god, I didn’t expect you to confess like this. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that I like you, but I never thought you liked me!”

Kuroo blinked, processing your words. “Wait… you like me?”

You nodded, still laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. “Yes! I’ve had a crush on you forever! And now look at us, confessing in the middle of the gym like two awkward idiots.”

Kuroo’s stunned expression melted into a grin, a laugh escaping him. “We really are idiots, aren’t we?”

“Biggest idiots ever,” you agreed, still catching your breath. “I can’t believe I just laughed in your face after you confessed. I’m such a mess.”

Kuroo shook his head, stepping closer. “Nah, it’s fine. I like that you’re a mess. Makes this whole thing more… us.”

You smiled up at him, the awkwardness fading away. “Well, in that case, Captain, what do you say we try again? Properly this time?”

Kuroo chuckled, his usual smirk returning as he leaned in a little closer. “Alright. So, want to go out with me?”

You grinned, your heart fluttering at how natural this all felt now. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good,” Kuroo said, reaching out to ruffle your hair in typical Kuroo fashion. “But just so you know, you laughing at my confession is never going to be forgotten.”

You groaned, swatting his hand away with a laugh. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

As the two of you walked back to the gym, the team was still none the wiser. You and Kuroo exchanged a quick, knowing glance, both smiling like idiots as the rest of the guys ran drills, still thinking Kuroo had a crush on Ayame.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[tea-plantz]

Hello! I absolutely LOVED your yandere!Bill Cipher x reader headcanons! Can I please get a part two where the reader loves Bill back? I’m a huge simp for the Dorito man 💛💛

Si mi amigo, I can of course write that for you, love! I swear, I’ve gotten sooo many Bill Cipher request lately, so I just had to do some more Bill content!

Also, like mentioned in the request, this is sort of a part 2 to my other Bill hcs, so I would recommend reading that one first!

He/him for Bill

They/them for the reader

<Yandere! Bill Cipher x reader HCS, where reader loves him back>

The dream demon had kept you with him for quite some time now, always staying by your side. Now, you might have heard of something called Stockholm syndrome, which is basically when a victim starts forming and emotional bond, and starts feeling sympathy for their kidnapper. You can probably guess where I’m going with this.

You were well aware of the fact that Bill had abducted you, taken you away from everything you loved, but for some odd reason, you started… viewing him differently. The more time you spent with the triangle, the more you actually started caring for him, and in time, full on loving him.

When you first told Bill you loved him, he didn’t believe you. Of course he had told you that himself multiple times, and made you say it back, but you always sounded nervous when you did. Moreover, you’ve never voluntarily gone up to him and just blurted it out yourself so casually, without him demanding it. Naturally, he was suspicious. Was this an attempt to gain his trust to escape? Or perhaps you were just toying with him?

When Bill finally realized that you were genuine with your little love confession, he was absolutely over the moon! Bro was flabbergasted.

The person he loved and adored oh so much finally loved him back! And he didn’t even have to force you in any way! (At least not too much) Oh what a joyful discovery! He was so happy, floating around while giggling like a little girl.

——————————————————————————

After that, the dream demon showed you hella lot affection, we’re talking hugs, kisses, picking you up, petnames all day, playing with your hair, cuddles, constantly complimenting you, all that stuff. It was a lot easier too, since you didn’t push him away or act scared anymore, which just made him more enthusiastic. Thing is, in the start Bill loved your fear, but it got boring quickly. What he truly longed for was your heart (not literally), so when he finally got it, he was overjoyed!

When you suddenly returned the affection one time, he almost passed out. “Hey Bill, how’s it going honey?” “H-h-honey?!” *Bill.exe has stopped working*

You would expect someone to get less angsty and possessive once they got confirmed that the person that they care about shares the same feelings, however, this was NOT the case with Bill, per say. He got even more over protective than ever, if that was even humanly possible, craving to be by your side at all times, day and night.

The fact that you love him would definitely boost his already big ego A LOT! This man would feel like the most important person in the whole wide universe, including you of course~ He would also brag about his awesome and beautiful s/o all the time.

In my previous headcanons, I mentioned that Bill would play the piano for you. Well, now that he doesn’t need to force you to sit still, he would most certainly do music duets with you! Preferably with love songs. The demon finds them so enjoyable, plus you’re angelic voice drives him absolutely crazy! He craves to hear it at least once a day, and you can’t really say no to him, whatsoever.

——————————————————————————

Bill did ease off of the punishments, mostly because he didn’t really need to punish you anymore. Since your little escape attempts had finally come to an end, and you didn’t really cause that much trouble for him anymore, Bill felt no need to lash out at you. However, if you did do something he didn’t particularly like, he would still punish you, just less intense then the methods he used before.

The Dorito man would probably also get fewer anger tantrums. Don’t get me wrong, he still gets pissed of if you or somebody else rubs him the wrong way, but it’s a lot less intense then what it used to be.

He shows you off a lot to every single one of his henchmen, ALL THE TIME. Bill takes great pride in you, y’know?

Now that you have finally given in and stopped being so stubborn, you and Bill are able to rule together as king and queen/king/ruler of the universe for all eternity, at last. When the dream demon and his crew finally conquered Gravity Falls, he kept you proudly by his side, while showing of his powers to you *wink wink*. Bill even made you your own throne! And even though you hesitated a bit to actually sit in it (since y’know, it’s made out of actual people), he stared you down until you finally gave in. All with love of course! Bill really couldn’t wish for more, everything was just perfect! His dream finally came true, and better yet, it came true with you ruling beside him, just like he’s always daydreamt about!

Bill is definitely never EVER letting you go. If you thought he was a lovesick psycho before, he’s a literal monster now. All the affection that you provided him of, really made him lose it, and now he craves you more than ever. This triangle is going to keep you with him til the end of time, and there’s nothing you can say or do to get away. Not that you would really want to though, since Bill has finally managed to sneak his way into your heart! Forever…

[frvnkcastles]

hi I love your writing!! let the days pass has gotten me through a lot. If you’re still taking requests, would you think about doing something for a reader with functional depression? Like can make it through a full day of work/school, seems fine when out and about… but then once she’s home she can’t get herself to eat, or clean, or reply to her friends’ texts or get out of bed on the weekend. And Frank just kind of soothing/supporting her through it and getting her out of bed and finding fun things to do together so she can’t just stay stuck in her little depression apartment and her terrible thoughts. No worries of this doesn’t spark anything for you; thank you so much!!!!

BREATHE ME BACK TO LIFE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You’ve got a bad case of depression, and Frank does everything he can to help you through the difficult days.

Warnings: High-functioning depression, just a small nod towards suicide ideation, fluff, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: Thank you for the support!! I completely understand this struggle and it often makes me feel like a fraud and like my depression isn’t ”serious enough” and so many other people have it worse than me, but the reality is, everyone’s struggles are valid and no less important than someone else’s. Anon, I promise it can get better, don’t give up!! I know it can feel like an endless uphill for a long time, but hang onto the good days and know that you’ve got what it takes to get through the bad ones <3

When you first got to know Frank, you were careful about letting him in, simply because the effort of maintaining a relationship terrified you and you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not to mention, you were kind of embarrassed — revealing your struggle to keep up with chores and to take care of yourself hardly seemed like the way to sweep someone off of their feet. Then there was the fact that Frank seemed so put-together and diligent himself. He didn’t strike you as the type to judge other people, but you knew you couldn’t meet his military level of routine and tidiness, and it made you nervous to open up to him.

Little did you know, he knew depression all too well from personal experience. After losing his wife and kids, he had been shoved into a dark place and it had taken him a long time to dig himself out of there. He understood the lack of motivation to look after yourself or your home, and he, too, struggled with getting out of bed and staying in contact with people.

And that was exactly what he told you when you allowed him to get a glimpse of your reality.

”Hey, I feel ya, sweetheart. I’ve been there. It ain’t easy, that’s for fuckin’ sure, but you’re doin’ amazing”, he praised you, finding your perseverance admirable. ”It can be a real pain in the ass. I struggled for a long time, I won’t lie. Still do, some days. But it’s gotten better, even after I didn’t think it would”, he opened up, trying his very best to instill hope in you. It sort of worked, but it also made you feel guilty — if a man who had lost his entirely family could pull through, why were you having such a hard time? In fact, while you felt glad Frank hadn’t judged you for sharing with him, you felt even more embarrassed and like you were a burden, one he would regret getting involved with.

But he didn’t give up on you. He kept showing up for you, participating in your day as often as he could, whether that meant pushing you to watch a movie he heard so much about and thought you might like, or surprising you during work to take you out to lunch.

By weaving himself into your everyday life, he quickly realized your troubles with depression were more complex than he had initially realized. Whereas he had been completely devoid of energy and hope throughout the day and it had been obvious to everyone around him, you could mask it. He found it sort of impressive, actually, the way you managed to be efficient at work and the way you socialized, smiled and laughed on a night out. To an outsider, it wasn’t obvious that you were struggling, and while he felt fortunate to be in your inner circle, he also grew worried. He couldn’t imagine the toll it must have taken on you, to always put up a brave front and go about your day like nothing was going on.

So, he started visiting your apartment more.

”Have you eaten yet, sweetheart?” he probed gently while collecting various garbage from around the place, shoving it into a trash bag. You were grateful, but you were also entirely drained, the effort of the day catching up to you and leaving you paralyzed on the couch, buried under the heavy blanket.

”No. Didn’t feel like it”, you shrugged, much too casual about it for Frank’s liking. He finished filling up the bag and left it by your front door, making a mental note to take it with him before he stepped into the living room where you were. He crouched down in front of you, gingerly swiping your hair away from your face and eyeing you up with a mix of sympathy and worry. He knew it could be hard to accept help — he certainly had done a good job of pushing Curtis away, but he was determined to give you a hand, whether you liked it or not.

”I make a mean pasta. Would ya eat a lil bit f’me if I made you some?” he asked softly, his voice so patient and calm with you, and if you only had the energy for it, you probably would have teared up. You felt bad just watching Frank do all these things for you, but you suspected, correctly, that even if you told him to stop, he wouldn’t have.

”Sure”, you gave him a weak attempt at a smile. He mirrored it back at you, and leaned in to kiss your forehead before standing up and striding into the kitchen.

He rummaged through your cabinets and fridge, finding what he needed but not exactly pleased with the lack of food. ”I’mma take you grocery shoppin’ tomorrow, aight? We’ll get whatever you need, on me”, he called out from the kitchen, not really offering it as an option but a simple fact. He did that a lot, made promises that to him seemed obvious and like the bare minimum but that meant the world to you.

He made a habit of stopping by on weekends, especially. He knew those were the hardest for you — during weekdays, you had work to keep you busy and distracted, but during the weekend, you sank deep into your dark thoughts. He tried his best to be a lifeline, to keep you afloat, just because he knew what it was like to get stuck in that vicious cycle of hateful, ruminating thoughts and that gloomy mood that didn’t seem to loosen its grip. And he certainly didn’t want that for you.

”Hey, darlin’. How you feelin’ today?” he asked as he made his way into your bedroom on another Saturday, his gaze gentle and caring even when you felt like you looked horrible. You had meant to change your sheets and your PJs for the longest time, and your hair was unkempt in a way that made you feel insecure. But Frank was not bothered, at least not in the manner you expected him to. It unsettled him because he wanted to see you happy and thriving, but he wasn’t scared of a little mess.

You gave him a shrug from the midst of the covers where you had been mindlessly scrolling your phone, only for the damn device to make you feel horrible guilt about all the unanswered texts that seemed to keep piling on. Frank nodded in understanding and sat on the edge of the bed, next to your legs, and he thought about the right way to get you out of that hole. He knew he could be pushy sometimes, but it originated from a place of love, and most times, you responded well. Coddling wasn’t going to help, he knew that, so sometimes he took a firmer approach, but the affection never left his tone or eyes.

”C’mere, sweetheart. Thought I’d take you out for a walk. That okay?” he suggested, and as much as you wanted to agree to his idea, you didn’t think you had it in you.

”I dunno, Frankie…”, you trailed off, and reaching for your hand to squeeze it tightly, he gave you a look that in its simplicity had the power of convincing you.

”I know, sweet girl. But I really want you to get some fresh air with me, yeah? Just around the block, don’t gotta be out for long”, he pleaded, ”I know what you’re thinkin’ in here and I don’t want to lose ya to it.”

You couldn’t argue on that. You knew you weren’t doing yourself any favors, and your thoughts tended to tip over to self-deprecating and hopeless, surrounding you in darkness that only Frank could bring light into. So, you nodded at him, and he gave you an attagirl before winding an arm around you and helping you out of the bed, well-aware that even if you wanted to go, you couldn’t always get your body on board.

He brushed your hair with as much care as possible, enjoying the process more than he wanted to admit, and after that he dug out the hoodie he had left behind a few weeks ago and zipped you up in it. He tied your shoes and made sure you had your keys with you, and after he had taken care of almost everything for you, you were finally ready to go.

The sun was already going down when you stepped outside, and the sight got a faint smile from you, which in turn made Frank grin. ”Pretty, huh?” he noted while taking your hand and interlocking your fingers. He acted so much like a boyfriend even if you had never actually labelled your relationship in any way. It made you wonder, because he took such good care of you and he didn’t really even get anything out of it. It was an equation you simply didn’t understand.

You walked for a while, but finally, you had to ask. ”Why do you keep showing up?” you questioned, not meaning it to come out so accusatory, but Frank was immediately alerted to the thought of crossing a boundary. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, he just wanted to help.

”You want me to stop? All you gotta do is say the word”, he promised, and you hastily shook your head to reassure that that wasn’t what you wanted.

”No, I like it. I just… don’t really get why you do it. I can’t repay the favor. I’m not getting any better. So, it just seems like you’re running a fool’s errand, I guess”, you explained, and licking his lips, he gave it some thought. But really, there was no doubt about why he did it.

”You’re important to me, sweetheart. And like I’ve told you, I’ve been there. I know it gets lonely and brutal and I just don’t want ya doing it by yourself”, he answered, and quickly continued, ”and the part about you not bein’ able to repay the favor, bullshit. You do it every time you give me a smile or give me a call or agree to my stupid ass ideas to get you outta the house. I know it may be hard to see, but you got a lotta good moments and I feel damn privileged to get to see them.”

You were speechless, looking at Frank with wide eyes as you kept walking. His stare was focused on your surroundings, hyper-aware of every car that passed you by and every pedestrian with their hood pulled over their eyes too suspiciously. Whether you were in your apartment or out and about, he just wanted to look after you.

”Aren’t I kind of a burden?” you stated what felt like the obvious, and your words got him to instantly face you, a frown etched onto his forehead.

”Never. I ain’t ever gettin’ sick of you”, he swore, stopping you just so he could look into your eyes with solemnity and determination. ”I know you think you’re not gettin’ better, but you will. I’m not lettin’ you give up. Some day, you won’t need my help anymore, but until then, I ain’t goin’ nowhere”, Frank emphasized, dedicated to showing you his loyalty and confidence in you. He had so much hope for you, way more than you had yourself, but he didn’t mind carrying you.

”Thank you”, you whispered, hugging him with a tight grip, and he responded with his own arms curling around your figure. He shielded you from the dark cloud over your head, hoping that his embrace would offer the comfort he so badly tried to be for you.

”Just so you know, when that day comes when I won’t need your help… I’ll still want you around”, you pointed out, and chuckling, Frank kissed the top of your head.

”Well, I didn’t wanna be a selfish asshole, but I was hopin’ you’d feel that way”, he admitted. He may not have been very good at speaking up about it, but you had completely stolen his heart, and he wasn’t sure he was ever getting it back. ”You mean a lot to me, sweetheart”, he added quietly, and holding onto him a bit tighter, you sighed.

”You mean a lot to me too, Frank.”