#missed today's afternoon game :///////// but i will be watching it later

[suguann]

Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.

He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face. 

(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)

“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”

A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.

“So? Let them stare.”

Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids. 

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.    

And then Mio kicks the ball into— 

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.

The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.

It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips— 

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.

That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.

“Were they?”

“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”

Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—

“Where’s Mio?”

A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.” 

You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.” 

And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”

(Who knows?

Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.

(How it was probably always going to come back to this.) 

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.

[finelinefae]

reaching out [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: just one moment out of very many of tennis!h pining over y/n before they teamed up.

word count: 5.5k

contains: enemies to lovers, pining h, angst, abusive parents, mentions of physical abuse, tennis rivals, fluff

a/n: very first tennis!h blurb omggg - i missed my babies so much!! For those who don't know, this is a blurb for my tennis!h series which you can read here !!

. . .

Harry stretched his legs, working his calf muscles, as people settled into their seats in the stands. Today was a big day, one that had drawn a large crowd, but he paid them no mind. Performing in front of a big audience never shook Harry’s confidence. When it came to tennis, his focus was entirely on the game.

It was the county cup semi-final. Harry had competed in the same event last year, finishing in second place behind Henry Waver, who took home the gold before heading to rehab a month later for using performance-enhancing drugs. Harry had come a long way since then, and he was determined to make it to the final and claim first place.

Some might have thought Harry no longer needed to compete in these smaller events, given his path toward qualifying for the Olympics, but he couldn’t stay away. Maybe it was the rush of winning, or perhaps the quiet focus that settled over him when the game began—just him, his opponent, and the swift rhythm of the ball being hit back and forth between them.

He walked over to his bench, some people cheering as he walked onto the court. He was wearing all white, a towel around his shoulders and his racket bag hanging from his shoulder. He reached for his water bottle, pouring it into his mouth. 

His eyes scanned the growing crowd, but there was no sign of his parents—not that he had expected anything different. He caught a glimpse of Mitch chatting with a few girls from their year group on the stairs, but Harry's focus shifted immediately to the center of the stands, only to find it empty.

A frown tugged at his lips, the first sign of emotion since this morning. He glanced around, searching for the one person his heart longed to see, but before he could spot her, his coach clapped him on the back.

"Remember what we worked on yesterday—don’t overstep the baseline and make sure to follow through," his coach muttered, his tone more routine than encouraging.

Harry barely registered the words. He shrugged off his coach’s hand, distracted. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he mumbled, his mind still preoccupied with trying to figure out why she hadn’t shown up yet.

The opposing crowd erupted into cheers as Lionel Boyce stepped onto the court, raising a hand to acknowledge their applause. Harry barely spared him a glance. He had crossed paths with Lionel plenty of times in his tennis journey and knew the truth behind the polished exterior—Lionel was an arrogant opportunist, desperate for sponsorship deals.

Harry took a swig of water, his grip tightening on the bottle as he set it down and reached for his racket. The game was drawing closer, but the empty seat in the center of the stands—the one he had been watching all afternoon—remained vacant. His chest tightened at the thought of someone else filling it. He wasn’t sure how he’d play with a stranger sitting there instead of the person he was hoping for.

The umpire climbed into his seat, and the announcement for the game’s start echoed across the court. Harry felt a firm pat on the back from his coach as he stepped forward.

“Go show him what you’re made of,” his coach said with a nod.

The crowd erupted as Harry walked onto the court. Most of the cheers came from the Crestwood supporters, and while it wasn’t the loudest reception, it was enough to steady his nerves.

Across the court, Lionel sauntered into position, basking in the applause. Harry couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling as Lionel flashed his best grin to the crowd. He didn’t miss the way a group of girls in the front row seemed to swoon, whispering excitedly among themselves.

The umpire adjusted the microphone and cleared his throat, his voice carrying over the murmuring crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, play shall begin. First set—Harry Styles to serve."

Harry stepped into position at the baseline, gripping his racket tightly. As always, he raised it and pointed toward the center of the crowd—a ritual that steadied his nerves and granted him good luck for the game.

But this time, his breath hitched.

There she was, sliding into the seat he’d been watching all afternoon. Y/N.

Her eyes found his almost instantly, and for a fleeting moment, the world around him fell away—the roaring crowd, the pressure of the match, even Lionel’s smug presence on the other side of the net. It was just her, sitting there with that familiar stoic expression.

A small smile tugged at Harry’s lips. She was always like this at his matches, focused and intense, watching every move with the same concentration as if she were playing herself. Her unwavering focus sent a spark of determination surging through him.

He adjusted his stance, exhaling slowly as he prepared to serve. With her gaze burning into him, he played to win the entire thing. 

. . .

Mitch had thrown a party to celebrate Harry’s victory over Lionel, just as he always did whenever Harry won anything. It was a tradition Harry had grown fond of, even though he often found himself dreading the expectation to win every time he played. Victory wasn’t typically celebrated in his world—it was expected. But his friends? They always found a way to make a big deal out of it, and Harry appreciated that, even if the attention wasn’t his favorite part. Being around his friends was.

Harry stood in the kitchen, holding a cup of something he couldn’t identify. Mitch was across the room, chatting animatedly with Sarah. Harry was pretty sure Mitch had been infatuated with her ever since she’d transferred to Crestwood four years ago. Watching them, he wondered if Mitch would ever work up the courage to act on it.

He couldn’t help but glance around, hoping to spot someone else. He knew Sarah’s best friend and roommate might be here, too, but there was no guarantee. Unlike Sarah, who thrived on Crestwood’s social gatherings, her quieter counterpart was more selective about where she spent her evenings.

“Hi, Harry.” He turned to see Astrid approaching, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her skin glowing with a fresh tan from her recent holiday in the Maldives. He’d only known about it because his mother, after scrolling through Facebook, couldn’t resist mentioning it during their last phone call.

“Hey, Astrid,” Harry said with a polite smile. He didn’t mind her company, but unlike most of the guys in their year, he didn’t feel attracted to her in the same way they did. Sure, she was stunning—legs for days, an effortless smile—but their shared interests barely went beyond tennis and the fact their parents were friends. Friends who, annoyingly, had been dropping hints about the two of them dating for as long as Harry could remember.

“Congrats on the win. You were amazing out there,” she said, her voice smooth and practiced.

“Thanks. I heard you did well at the Championships the other week,” he replied. He hadn’t actually seen her match but knew through their coach that she’d won.

“Yeah, I’m hoping to qualify for the Australian Open,” she said, her grin widening.

Harry nodded, letting the conversation drift until his gaze caught something—or rather, someone—in the living room. His heart skipped a beat.

There she was.

Her smile lit up her face, radiant and warm, eclipsing even the moonlight streaming through the large windows. Her hair spilled to one side, leaving her neck bare, and she was wearing a sleek black maxi dress paired with chunky heels—an outfit so out of the ordinary for her that it was almost disarming. Harry’s eyes lingered on her longer than they should have, but he didn’t care. He’d been hoping she’d come.

His smile faltered when Adam appeared beside her. Harry’s stomach tightened at the sight. He knew Adam had a soft spot for her—he’d admitted as much—but assured everyone he wasn’t looking for a relationship. Still, seeing them together made something uneasy churn in Harry’s chest.

“Harry?” Astrid’s voice snapped him back to reality. He blinked, realizing he hadn’t heard a word she’d been saying. She followed his line of sight and spotted Y/N. Her tone shifted, tinged with something that wasn’t quite approval.

“Oh, Y/N’s here,” Astrid remarked flatly. “I’m surprised after…everything.”

Harry’s head whipped toward her, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, her surprise seeming genuine. “One of my friends was at the Country Club a couple of weekends ago. She got lost trying to find the bathroom near the pool and overheard her dad yelling at her—apparently for getting a bad grade on her report card. She said he slapped her.”

Harry’s stomach dropped, cold fury replacing the unease. “He what?”

Astrid shrugged, completely unbothered. “I’ve always thought her family was messed up. My dad had a horrible experience at their Country Club—almost sued them after Mom got food poisoning there.” She kept talking, but Harry wasn’t listening anymore.

His attention snapped back to Y/N, watching her closely. Something was different. To anyone else, she probably seemed the same, but Harry knew her too well. He noticed the way her fingers twisted together, fidgeting nervously. Her smile, though bright, didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her makeup seemed heavier than usual; she rarely wore much or applied it sparingly, but today, it looked as though she was trying to mask something—maybe a shadow or imperfection on her cheek, though he couldn’t be sure.

Harry’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. If what Astrid said was true, there was no doubt in his mind—he’d track down her father and make him regret it in ways that didn’t bear sunlight. But first, he needed to talk to her, to make sure she was okay. The problem was, Harry knew her well enough to realise she wouldn’t just open up if he asked. They weren’t even friends. In fact, Harry was pretty sure Y/N didn’t like him at all. 

It wasn’t really a surprise, considering how they’d met—and the fact that he’d spent most of his days tormenting her just to get her attention. It was childish, he knew, but it was easier than admitting how much he actually cared. And he did care—more than he should, more than she probably realised. Beneath all the teasing and arguments, she mattered to him. So, if she was hurt, none of that other stuff mattered. He just needed to make sure she was okay.

When Harry saw Adam walk away, he seized the opportunity to sneak in. As if she could sense his presence, Y/N looked up, her smile immediately fading, and her jaw tightened. Harry couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. There was something exhilarating about her reaction, the way she shifted from neutral to visibly irritated, even if it was driven by nothing but disdain for him.

“I’m surprised you were willing to show up, love,” he said, his voice carrying the familiar, mocking tone.

Y/N’s eyes flashed with irritation at the nickname, her posture stiffening even further. Harry had always loved calling her that—it was almost like a reflex, especially since she absolutely hated it. He relished in the way she bristled, every time.

“Not so willingly, as a matter of fact,” she shot back, her arms folding across her chest. “I’m only here because Sarah wanted me to come.” She still hadn’t taken a sip from her drink, Harry noticed, as if it were some kind of shield between them.

“Excuses, excuses.” He clicked his tongue with a grin, leaning casually against the edge of the table. “What did you think of the match?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his question. “You care what I have to say?” she asked, a slight edge to her voice.

“No,” Yes. he replied, his eyes gleamed with a spark of challenge. “But I know you’ve got something to say anyway.”

She gave him a wry smile, the faintest hint of a laugh on her lips. “Well, it wasn’t one of your best, that’s for sure. Your tracking was terrible. You were lucky Lionel cared more about his appearance than his technique.”

Harry couldn’t suppress the chuckle that escaped him. He knew she wasn’t wrong—tracking had been off, and Lionel had certainly played a little too carefully. The dig was unsurprising to say the least but he took it all on board.

“You always have such charming critiques, don’t you?” Harry smirked. “Should I be worried about your career in commentary?”

Y/N’s replied, the sarcasm was back in full force. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just stick to calling it how I see it. You wouldn’t last five minutes with me in your corner, would you?”

Harry leaned in a little closer, their banter familiar and comfortable despite the tension. “You’d be too distracted by my charm to focus,” he said with a grin, savoring the challenge in her eyes.

Y/N scoffed but couldn’t entirely hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “Right. I think you’d find me too busy pointing out all the flaws you refuse to see.”

“Sounds like a good time,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t look away, the intensity between them palpable in the silence that followed.

“So,” Harry started, the tone shifting slightly, more serious, “what else? What else did you think of the match?” He genuinely wanted to know—part of him knew her critique might actually help him. But the other part of him just liked the way she made him think.

Y/N seemed to hesitate for a split second, the walls she kept up around her cracking just enough for him to notice. “Your footwork was off, too. You were slow on some of your returns, and—”

Harry laughed, cutting her off. “I thought you said you weren’t a fan?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not. But I’ve watched enough matches to know when someone’s not giving it their all.” Her gaze flicked to his eyes, sharp and clear. “And I know you can do better.”

Harry’s smile faltered, something unspoken passing between them, something that felt almost like respect. He had a feeling she wasn’t just talking about the match anymore.

“Well,” he said after a beat, straightening up, “I guess I’ll have to show you just how much better I can be, then.”

Y/N didn’t answer right away, her lips pursed as if she were weighing her options. Finally, she shrugged, that same familiar look of defiance in her eyes. “We’ll see.”

Harry’s eyes lingered on her for longer than he intended, “What about you?” He took a sip of his drink. 

She frowns, “What about me?”

“I haven’t seen you training recently,” He said. 

Y/N’s expression faltered, her eyes flashing with something like hurt or fear. “I haven’t had time.”

“What do you mean? I don’t think I’ve spent a day where I haven’t seen you on the court.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Harry’s brows furrowed as he studied her. There was something about the way she shifted on her feet, the subtle way her fingers tightened around the cup in her hand. It wasn’t the first time he’d sensed something was off, but hearing her say she didn’t want to talk about it made his curiosity spike. It was rare for Y/N to hide anything, especially from him. He’d spent enough time observing her—dissecting her every reaction, every word—to know when something wasn’t right.

“Y/N,” he said quietly, leaning forward, his voice losing its usual teasing edge. “You know you can talk to me, right?” He almost regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Not because he didn’t mean them, but because he knew she wouldn’t believe it—not after everything.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, Harry thought she might brush him off entirely. Instead, she let out a soft, almost bitter laugh. “Yeah, right,” she muttered, not meeting his eyes. “Since when?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. She was right—he had never given her much reason to trust him. But right now, as much as it pissed him off that she was shutting him out, he couldn’t help but feel... protective. There was something going on with her, something more than she was letting on, and it was like a switch had flipped inside him.

“Y/N,” he repeated, his voice softer now, “I’m not gonna push you, but if something’s going on, you don’t have to go through it alone. You know that, right?”

Her eyes finally met his, and for a brief moment, Harry thought he saw a crack in her tough exterior—a flicker of vulnerability—but it was gone in an instant. She shook her head, her gaze hardening.

“I’m fine,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

Harry didn’t buy it, and he didn’t think she expected him to. He knew he was on dangerous territory—one misstep, and no doubt she would lash out at him for putting his nose into business that was nothing to do with him. But something in him refused to let this go. He couldn’t just sit there, watching her shut him out.

“Come with me,” he said, motioning for her to follow him, the command in his voice surprising even him.

Y/N glanced at him, confused, her arms still crossed defensively. “What?”

“I’m taking you outside,” Harry said, already standing and grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. He could tell she was about to protest, could see the hesitation in her eyes. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of something—determination, maybe, or a mix of things he couldn’t quite name. “You need a break. You’re tense as hell, and I don’t like seeing you like this.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Harry cut her off. “Trust me. It’ll be good for you.”

For a moment, Y/N seemed like she might just walk away, but then she sighed, as if giving in to the inevitable. “Fine. But don’t get any ideas.”

Harry smirked, fighting the urge to laugh. “No promises,” he teased, already walking toward the door.

Outside, the late afternoon sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the empty tennis courts. Harry tossed her a tennis racket, watching as she caught it awkwardly. He was doing this for her—for whatever was weighing on her, for whatever had her retreating behind that wall. He wasn’t sure if tennis was the right call, but it was something he knew they both shared, something that might bring down some of her defenses.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious about this?”

“Dead serious,” Harry replied, stepping onto the court. He grinned at her.

She hesitated before stepping onto the court, but when she did, Harry could see a flicker of something else in her—the tension in her shoulders loosening, just a bit. She wasn’t fully on board yet, but the corners of her lips twitched upward, and that was something.

They began to rally, hitting the ball back and forth with the kind of casual ease that came from years of practice. Y/N’s form was sharp, fluid, and Harry couldn't help but be impressed, as he always was. But it wasn’t just the way she played that had him captivated.

It was the way she laughed.

The sound was light, unguarded, a sound he hadn’t heard from her in so long. It was like the weight of everything had lifted for a moment, leaving behind only the carefree side of Y/N he rarely got to see. She had a natural smile, the kind that reached her eyes and made them sparkle with a mischievous glint. Harry couldn’t look away.

Her laughter filled the air, echoing across the empty courts, and for a fleeting second, everything felt right. Harry’s heart skipped in his chest as he watched her, the way her eyes shone with a genuine sense of freedom. It wasn’t just the way she looked in that moment—it was how she felt, and how much he wanted to be the reason she smiled like that.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. He had always known he had a thing for her—he didn’t even try to deny it anymore. But this was different. He wasn’t just in awe of how she looked, or the way she challenged him to be better—he was infatuated with her.

The thought hit him hard, and he tried to push it aside, to focus on the game. But with every smile, every laugh, Harry found himself falling deeper, in a way that he couldn’t control. There was something about her—the way she made everything feel effortless, the way her presence seemed to fill up the space, making everything more vibrant. She was everything he wasn’t—bold, unafraid, untouchable in some ways. And Harry was starting to realize how much he wanted to be the one to reach her.

When Y/N hit a particularly good shot and spun around with that radiant smile, Harry felt a flutter in his chest. He swallowed, his throat tight, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he could handle being this close to her without completely falling apart.

“You’re not half bad,” she teased, breathless from the rally.

Harry grinned, the praise warming him in a way he hadn’t expected. “I know. You should be honored to play with me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite suppress the grin tugging at her lips. “You’re insufferable.”

And there it was again—her laugh, the way she made everything feel lighter. Harry caught himself smiling at her, not the cocky, playful smile he usually wore, but something more sincere. Something that spoke volumes of how much he was starting to feel for her—how much he had already felt.

They rallied for another few minutes, the sun dipping lower as the evening air turned cooler. But Harry wasn’t paying attention to the time, or the way the game was unfolding. All he could focus on was the way her hair caught the last of the sunlight, the way her eyes gleamed with happiness—and how damn beautiful she was.

“You’re good,” Harry finally said, his voice quieter than usual, almost like a confession.

Y/N gave him a curious look, then smirked. “You finally noticing?”

He wanted to say more, to tell her exactly what he was thinking—but it would only complicate things. Instead, he just nodded, watching her carefully, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I’ve always noticed,” he said, his voice a little too soft, betraying the quiet ache he felt inside.

Y/N paused, her expression softening for a brief moment before her usual mask of sarcasm slipped back into place. “Well, I’m glad you finally decided to admit it.”

The smile she gave him in return was genuine, full of warmth. And for a moment, Harry forgot about the rest of the world, just watching her, heart in his throat, wondering how he had gotten so lucky—and so lost in someone who would never even look at him the same way.

Y/N took a few steps back, wiping a hand across her forehead, trying to shake off the intensity of the game and the weight of the conversation that had been hanging between them. Harry still stood there, watching her, his breath a little heavier from the rally but his focus unwavering. It was as if he was waiting for something to break, for her to say the words he didn’t want to hear but somehow feared.

She didn’t look at him for a moment, her eyes scanning the ground like she was trying to find some way out. But then, when she spoke, her voice was softer than usual, almost reluctant. "You were right earlier... about me being tense," she said, barely above a whisper.

Harry tilted his head, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. His heart rate picked up, and he took a tentative step toward her. “What do you mean?”

Y/N hesitated, clearly at war with herself, as if saying the words out loud would somehow make them more real. But Harry could see the way her fingers curled tighter around her tennis racket, the way her shoulders were drawn up protectively.

“Something happened... with my dad,” she finally admitted, the words slipping out in a rush, like she couldn’t stop them once she started.

Harry’s chest tightened, but he kept his expression neutral, unwilling to push her too much. "What happened?"

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes redder than usual, her face more vulnerable than he'd ever seen it. "He... slapped me," she said, the words a simple admission but heavy enough to make the air around them thick with tension.

The air in Harry’s lungs seemed to stop for a moment. His chest tightened, fists clenching at his sides as the words echoed in his mind. Slapped her.

He was careful not to let the anger build, though it was hard. The thought of anyone hurting her—let alone her father—lit a fire of fury inside him, but he knew he couldn’t let it show. Not now. Not when she was looking at him like that, so fragile and raw.

“Y/N,” Harry said softly, stepping closer. His voice was low, almost as if he were afraid the words might break something inside her. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head, her lips trembling slightly. “You don’t have to apologize,” she murmured, her voice thick with something he couldn’t quite place. “I don’t want your pity.”

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry replied quickly, his gaze steady. He took a slow, steadying breath. “I’m angry, though. At him. But I’m not pitying you, Y/N. You’re... you’re strong. You don’t deserve that. You never have.”

She blinked, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to steady herself. Harry could see her fighting it—fighting the tears, fighting the emotions that were threatening to spill over.

“I got a low grade on my report card this semester,” she whispered after a beat, her voice so small it almost hurt to hear. “My parents think it’s because I spend too much time playing. They threatened to stop funding my schooling if I didn’t quit. Not that I’m going to quit, but I have to lay low for a while.”

Harry’s heart broke at her words. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take, the thought of her in such a difficult situation, but he forced himself to stay composed. She was so strong, but there was only so much someone could take.

“Does he…” Harry hesitated, the words feeling too heavy to speak, but he forced them out anyway, “Does he do that often?”

Y/N opened her mouth to speak but paused, her gaze dropping to the ground for a long moment. The silence stretched between them, and Harry felt that pit in his stomach grow deeper with each passing second. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

“It wasn’t the first time,” she said, her voice faltering. “But he doesn’t do it often.”

Harry’s eyes darkened with barely-contained anger. His hands clenched at his sides, a reflex he couldn’t control. “Y/N, he shouldn’t be doing it at all,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and tight. He wanted to reach for her, to pull her close and hold her, but something held him back. He knew she wasn’t ready for that, and he didn’t want to push her further away.

“No man should ever lay a hand on you,” he added, his voice raw with emotion. “Not ever. You don’t deserve that. No one does.”

Y/N stayed quiet for a long time, her face a mixture of exhaustion and something else Harry couldn’t name. She looked up at him, eyes glistening, but there was no hint of softness in her expression. She had her walls up again, already rebuilding what little had cracked.

“I don’t want your sympathy, Harry,” she said firmly, her voice regaining some of its usual sharpness. “And I don’t need you to protect me. I’ll deal with it.”

Harry’s chest tightened, frustration bubbling to the surface. “But you don’t have to do it alone,” he said, taking a step closer, his voice softer now. “I can’t just stand by and pretend like nothing’s wrong. You shouldn’t have to carry this by yourself.”

She shook her head, but this time, there was no bite in it—just a sad resignation. “You don’t get it,” she muttered, her eyes darting to the side. “I’m not some fragile thing that needs to be protected. I don’t want your help. I just want to get through this on my own.”

Harry could feel the walls she’d built between them—walls made of pain and pride—climbing higher, and the instinct to break them down was strong. But he knew, deep down, he couldn’t force her to open up, especially not when she wasn’t ready.

“I’m not trying to save you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice tinged with something like regret. “I’m just here. Whenever you need someone to listen, or... whatever else you need. Just know that.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, but he could see the smallest tremor in her shoulders as she exhaled. Finally, after a long pause, she spoke again, her voice quiet but firm.

“I don't need help,” she said, her words like a wall being slammed shut. “I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need anyone to try and fix me.”

Harry’s heart dropped, the weight of her words hitting him harder than he wanted to admit. But he understood. She was trying to keep control of a situation that was already slipping through her fingers. And maybe she wasn’t ready to let him in, no matter how much he wanted to be there for her.

“I’m not trying to fix you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper now, the weight of his emotions slipping through despite himself. “I just... I care about you, Y/N. I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Her eyes flicked to his, sharp and guarded. “I don’t need help but I’ll keep that in mind.”

Harry’s chest tightened, but he didn’t let his gaze drop. “Alright,” he said softly. “But I’ll be here. Whenever you need me.”

Y/N didn’t respond, and Harry didn’t push. Instead, he stood there for a moment longer, looking at her, wishing he could say more—do more—make her feel safe, but knowing it wasn’t his place to force anything. For now, all he could do was wait.

And somehow, that felt worse than anything.

“Want to go another round?” Harry asked, his voice lighter, searching for a way to ease the tension.

“I think we should probably head back. Sarah might be looking for me.” Y/Ns expression softens.

“Right” the last thing Harry wanted to do was leave this pocket of space they were in together. He savoured any rare moment of time he had with her alone and this was one of them.

They walked side by side, the silence between them not uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken truths. As they approached his flat, Y/N glanced at him, her voice quiet but firm. “This doesn’t change anything, you know. I don’t want you to look at me differently just because I couldn’t defend myself against my dad. I’m strong—it just… it caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Harry stopped, turning to her with an earnestness that made her chest tighten. “Y/N, this doesn’t change a thing. Not about how I see you, or what I think of you. You’re still the strongest person I know.”

Her lips quirked in a small, tentative smile. “Good,” she said softly. Then, with a playful glint in her eyes, she added, “And you better win the final.”

Harry chuckled, his own smile breaking through. For her, he would.

For her, he’d do anything.

. . . 

Harry walked into the school the next day with his tie askew, shirt unbuttoned just enough to show his white t-shirt underneath, and his blazer slung casually over his shoulder, hooked with his middle finger. He had no particular reason to look so disheveled—he just liked the chaos it seemed to cause.

As he passed Mitch’s locker, he caught sight of Y/N walking down the hallway. Her eyes were trained straight ahead, like she was in her own world, but Harry couldn’t resist. He flashed a smirk and called out, “Hey, love.”

She immediately paused and turned to face him. Her expression was unreadable for a moment, then the corner of her lips twitched slightly, but her eyes were all ice.

“Seriously?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, seriously,” Harry teased, not backing down. “You got something against me saying hello?”

“Not really,” she replied dryly, her arms crossing over her chest. “But I’m guessing you’re doing it just to get a reaction.”

“You know me too well,” Harry said with a grin. “But still, can’t help it. You just look... irresistible when you’re pissed off.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of amusement hiding beneath the irritation. Without saying a word, she lifted her middle finger and gave him a quick, deliberate flip-off. Then, as she turned to walk away, she allowed herself to smile, just a little—just enough for Harry to catch it.

He watched her walk off, his smirk fading as something tighter, warmer, filled his chest. He had always loved the way she carried herself—so confident, even when she was annoyed with him. He liked that she never made it easy. But right now, as she walked away, all he could think was how much he was falling for her.

"God," he muttered under his breath, watching her disappear down the hallway. "I’m so screwed."

[jessiso]

"Low Sun, Loud Hearts"

Criminal Minds fanfiction | Aaron Hotchner x Single parent! Reader | Part II

cw: just happy and fluffy

w/c 1,475

(PART TWO IS HERE BY POPULAR DEMAND - YOU ASK YOU RECIEVE!)

(Click here for Part I)

...

It was the same park just a week later, same bench, same late-afternoon sun dripping gold through the trees—but this time, it felt different.

Familiar.

Your daughter was already tugging your hand as you walked across the grass, eyes scanning for Jack with the kind of anticipation that made your chest ache a little—in a good way.

“There!” she shouted, letting go of your hand and bolting toward the swings.

You followed her gaze—and there he was.

Jack, already half out of breath from pushing himself higher on the swing, waving as he spotted your daughter. And right behind him, tall and steady as ever, was Aaron.

He smiled when he saw you, and your steps slowed just slightly, like your body was reacting to something you weren’t quite ready to name yet.

“Hey,” he said, voice smooth and easy like you’d seen each other yesterday. “We saved your bench.”

You laughed, slipping off your shoes like before and settling onto the warm wood beside him. “You’re too good to me.”

“I try,” he said, that half-smile curling at the corner of his mouth again. “Jack’s been asking about today all week.”

You glanced at the kids now spinning in lazy circles, already plotting some elaborate game. “Same. She made me pinky promise we wouldn’t be late.”

Aaron chuckled, watching them with a softness in his gaze that hadn’t faded since last time. “It’s nice. Seeing them like this. Happy.”

You nodded, tucking your legs beneath you on the bench. “It’s been a while since she had a real friend. Someone her age who gets her.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, softly, “Yeah. Same for Jack.”

The pause that followed was warm, not awkward. The kind that stretches between two people who don’t need to fill every silence.

Then—

“Do you usually come here?” he asked. “Before last week, I mean.”

“Sometimes,” you said. “Usually when the weather’s nice and I need an excuse to not think about laundry.”

He laughed quietly. “That sounds... deeply relatable.”

You smiled, watching him from the corner of your eye. There was something a little softer about him today—his sleeves pushed up, a little less guarded, a little more relaxed.

“I brought snacks this time,” you offered, pulling a zippered pouch from your bag. “Mostly goldfish and fruit snacks, but I feel like that still qualifies me as ‘prepared.’”

Aaron’s eyes lit with amusement. “If you tell me you have juice boxes in there, I might have to propose.”

You laughed, handing him one without missing a beat. “Strawberry kiwi. I come prepared and I bring variety.”

He took it with a low, impressed hum, tapping the box against yours like a toast. “To playground diplomacy.”

“And bribing our children with sugar,” you added, clinking back.

The afternoon passed like that—slow, sun-warmed, full of half conversations and shared glances while your kids ran wild and free in their own little world.

At some point, your daughter came sprinting over, cheeks flushed. “We’re making a magic potion!”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, brushing hair back from her face.

“Yup! Jack found the perfect leaf and we need water. Can we use some of your bottle?”

You handed it over, amused. “As long as it’s not for turning your mom into a frog.”

She grinned deviously and ran off before you could get clarification.

Aaron watched them go, shaking his head fondly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this... open.”

There was something wistful in his voice, but not sad. Just honest.

“Maybe they feel what we feel,” you said gently, and then blinked, surprised you’d said it out loud.

Aaron turned to you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then: “What do we feel?”

Your mouth opened, closed, then curved into a quiet smile. “Like this might be something... good.”

He held your gaze for a long second, then nodded. “Yeah. I think it might be.”

He didn’t touch you—not yet—but the space between you had shrunk since last week. His knee brushed yours now and then, and neither of you moved away.

When the sun dipped lower and the kids finally wore themselves out, you gathered juice boxes and crumbs while they flopped onto a blanket under a tree, giggling at their own jokes.

Aaron walked you to your car, the silence now heavy with something tender, expectant.

He hesitated beside your door. “Would you want to... do something else? Outside of the park, I mean. Maybe... dinner? With the kids. Or just us, if you’re okay with that.”

You looked up at him, heart doing that strange flutter again. “I’d like that. Both options.”

He smiled, slow and real. “I’ll text you?”

“Please do.”

He stepped back as you opened your door, hands in his pockets like he didn’t quite want to leave yet. You almost didn’t want him to either.

And as you pulled away, watching him in the rearview mirror as Jack clambered into his car, you couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your lips.

Yeah. This was something good.

The drive home was quiet in the way only tired kids could make it. Your daughter was slumped in her booster seat, legs swinging slowly, one hand clutching a tiny pinecone like it was treasure.

“Did you have fun?” you asked softly as the city lights flickered past the windows.

“Mhm,” she murmured, half-asleep. “Jack says he’s gonna teach me how to do the zip line next time.”

You smiled, heart full. “Sounds like you’ve got big plans.”

She didn’t answer, already drifting, her fingers going slack around the pinecone.

At home, it was the usual evening dance—bath, pajamas, detangling her curls while she protested sleep with the last scraps of energy she had. But the second her head hit the pillow, she was out cold, arms wrapped around her stuffed dolphin.

You lingered in the doorway for a minute, watching the slow rise and fall of her breathing. A kind of peace settled in your chest, deeper than usual. Like maybe the day had filled a space you didn’t know had been empty.

You padded barefoot into the kitchen, phone still in your hoodie pocket, and flicked on the kettle. It had just begun to hum when your screen lit up.

Aaron:

Made it home in one piece. Jack says the potion worked and you’re probably a frog now. Should I be concerned?

You laughed softly, thumbs already moving.

You:

I’ve been hopping uncontrollably for ten minutes. Please tell Jack I’ll forgive him if he brings chocolate next time.

A pause, then:

Aaron:

He says chocolate is only for “serious spells.” So you’re stuck like that for now, sorry.

You:

Rough. Tell him I expect a full reversal potion by next week. Also, thank you for today. It was… really nice.

Aaron:

It was. I haven’t seen him smile like that in a long time. Not like that.

You curled up on the couch with your tea, legs tucked under you, a soft blanket pulled over your lap. The house was quiet—just the hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of floorboards. You hadn’t felt this calm in a while.

Your phone buzzed again.

Aaron:

Also… I haven’t smiled like that in a while either. In case you were wondering.

Your breath caught a little, fingers pausing over the keyboard.

You:

I was wondering.

A beat. Then:

Aaron:

You looked happy today. Really happy.

You:

I was. You made it really easy to be.

You could almost see him, sitting on his own couch with his tie gone and sleeves rolled up, that soft half-smile playing at his mouth.

Aaron:

You’re easy to be around. It’s rare.

You:

You’re not what I expected. In a good way.

Aaron:

Should I be offended or flattered?

You:

Flattered. Definitely. I didn’t expect someone who wears Henleys that well to also enjoy juice boxes and talk about glitter crafts like a pro.

Aaron:

That’s my secret. I’m a deeply glitter-averse man with a surprisingly strong snack game.

You:

Dangerous combination.

Aaron:

You don’t seem easily scared.

You:

I’m not.

There was a long pause then—long enough that you weren’t sure if he’d fallen asleep. But then—

Aaron:

I’d really like to get to know you more. Past the juice boxes and pinecones.

Your stomach flipped, slow and sweet.

You:

You will. I’d like that too.

Aaron:

Sweet dreams, [Y/N].

You:

Goodnight, Aaron. Give Jack a high five from me in the morning.

Aaron:

Only if you promise to stop hopping.

You snorted softly, setting your phone down with a grin still on your face.

And for the first time in a long time, you fell asleep with your heart full and your cheeks warm, dreaming of sunshine, laughter, and something slow blooming between two people who’d both almost given up on finding something easy.

(Click here for Part III)

[nadvs]

I'm really sorry to request this for sleeping with the enemy but I'm a sucker for angsty fics.

But what about their first fight as a couple? Maybe they're fighting over a stupid thing and they are both petty and don't want the other person to be right?

(or they have makeup sex and everything turns out fine lol)

OMG I LOVE IT SO MUCH. DON’T BE SORRY. angst will always be my fav 🙂‍↕️ (the length of this blurb is proof)

they got into arguments as friends but as a couple, they get way more emotional. they’re both confrontational and stubborn and have commitment issues that come out in different ways so it gets ugly 🫣

based on this fic

they’ve been official for almost a month now. as friends, their arguments were silly and usually short-lived, but this fight is nothing like those.

it was a saturday night at a house party on rafe’s college campus. they split off at one point in the night and when she went searching for him, she found him in the backyard, standing with a group of guys she hadn’t seen before.

the smell of weed hit her instantly. panic set in. if he gets caught doing drugs, his future is shot. one random drug test and he’ll be kicked off the team.

she approached him, resting her hand on his bicep, and said to him quietly but sternly, “what are you doing?”

rafe was drunk but caught the sharpness of her tone, looking down at her with a scowl.

“what’s with the attitude?” he muttered.

“are you serious? you can’t smoke. don’t be stupid about this.”

one of his friends overheard, letting out a dramatic hoot as he held a lit joint to his lips, clearly taunting rafe for being scolded.

“just go back inside,” rafe snapped.

his buddies jeered, chuckles scattering over the group.

“what?” she said.

he wriggled out of her grip, looking away from her. she huffed in disbelief before storming off, anger rushing through her.

it’s tuesday afternoon and they still haven’t spoken. all over a ten-second conversation. it’s how their arguments would always go as friends. both of them get mad, fast, then don’t talk for a few days.

but this is different. it hurts way more.

rafe went looking for her at the party later on and realized she left. he was her ride there so he called her a few times, worried about how she was getting back.

when she didn’t answer, he texted her: at least tell me you got home. she replied: home.

now, she’s sitting at a cafe on her campus, working on a paper. she opens their text conversation a few times a day, hoping maybe she just missed a notification from him. but all she sees is their last bitter exchange.

and even though she’s pissed beyond belief that he disrespected her, she’s following his home game today. she watches every game she can.

it’s been a close one for three quarters now. she has the stream playing, taking up half of her laptop screen. when the fourth quarter starts, she watches rafe continue to dominate the court.

but her stomach drops when she sees him fall after a collision with another player. because he doesn’t get up.

she makes the stream fullscreen, watching with wide eyes. he limps off the court. he doesn’t come back out for the rest of the game. her heart is twisted in a knot.

even though she’s angry and hurt that he hasn’t looked past his pride and called or texted, she already knows that she’s going to go over to his place later to check up on him.

it’s almost sunset when rafe parks his car, her campus blanketed in a warm orange glow. the past few days have been hell. now his ankle is throbbing in pain. and he still hasn’t talked to his girl.

he hates this. the way he’s always the first to make contact after an argument. it makes him feel like he has no backbone. he should stay mad at her. she assumed the worst. embarrassed him. she should be running after him.

he’s parked in front of her dorm building. he pulls out his phone and stares at his call history for a moment before tapping her name.

it rings a couple times. then he hears her voice.

“hello?”

“come downstairs,” he says sternly. “i’m in front of your building.”

she pauses before she answers.

“i’m not home. i’m at your house,” she tells him. “i just got here. liam told me you went out. you should be resting.”

rafe rakes his hand through his hair. even though their tones are terse, his stomach flips knowing that she probably still watched his game today. that she came over to see him after his injury. she sounds worried.

“stay there,” he says.

she hangs up, looking at liam from her spot on the house’s front step.

“i’ll just wait in his room,” she says. rafe’s teammate nods and steps aside so she can come in. after she asked him if rafe was home, her next question was what happened.

apparently, he sprained his ankle. she’s glad it’s not as bad as she imagined.

as she climbs up the stairs, liam calls her name.

“not my business,” he says when she turns to look at him, “but please figure this shit out. he’s been extra bitchy lately.”

she chuckles despite herself.

“did he tell you what happened?” she asks.

“no. he just keeps sulking. a bunch of us tried to get him to talk about it, but we got told to fuck off,” liam says with an indifferent shrug.

“i’ve never seen him like this, so i hope you guys fix whatever’s wrong. i know he can be…” he doesn’t find the right word. “but i can tell he really likes you. for what it’s worth.”

“thanks,” she says.

when rafe enters his room and sees her sitting in his desk chair, his body goes warm with a mixture of anger and longing. he missed her. looking at her. hearing her voice.

“you went to my dorm?” she asks.

he shuts the door behind him, leaving his keys and phone on his nightstand before sitting on his bed.

“yeah,” he says flatly. “to talk.”

he almost says something about how of course he’s the one who reached out first to try to mend things, but she must’ve come over with that same intention. or maybe not. maybe she came over to break up with him.

her eyes dart down to his ankle, her face crumpling with sadness.

“liam told me it’s a sprain. how bad is it?” she asks.

“bad,” rafe says, mostly so she’ll feel bad for him. when he sees her frown, he realizes it worked, and then he feels rotten for trying to manipulate her.

she has that effect on him. she makes him want to be a better person. he doesn’t want to be manipulative or cruel or angry. not with her.

“it’ll heal in a few days,” he adds to ease her worry. “i’m good. it’s nothing.”

“okay,” she says, clearly relieved. “i brought some ibuprofen in case you don’t have any.”

“why?” he says, still on edge.

“i’m still gonna worry about you. no matter how much you hurt me.”

she looks down as she rifles through her bag, pulling out the pill bottle and tossing it on his mattress.

“i hurt you?” he mutters, his tone sharp. “you think this is on me?”

“are you for real?” she matches his intensity immediately, her voice going louder. “you basically told me to get lost in front of your friends. they laughed at me.”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” he scoffs with a pissed off, disbelieving smile. what she did was way worse.

“do you have any idea how humilating that was?” she snaps. rafe stares at her with a tight jaw. “i was worried. they do random drug tests all the time. what if they found it in your system? and you fucked up your future just because you wanted to get high at a random party?”

“you think i need you to do that for me?” he shouts. “think back. did you see me smoking? did i look high?”

“you were standing in a circle of guys who were passing a joint around,” she says. “it’s not crazy of me to assume.”

he shakes his head and scoffs.

“rafe,” she says evenly. “you disappeared. you looked like you were on something. i got freaked out.”

“and then called me stupid.”

“i didn’t call you stupid,” she counters. but she knows her argument is flimsy. her impulsive words were harsh. telling him don’t be stupid was basically calling him stupid.

“oh, my god,” he mutters angrily. he stands up, hands on his hips as he paces over to the door and back to the bed, trying to cool down, even on his sore ankle. “imagine i came up to you like that in front of your friends. you’d lose your shit way worse than i did.”

“please sit down,” she says. “you need to keep your weight off your foot.”

he doesn’t listen.

“i didn’t find you to fight with you that night,” she continues. she takes a deep breath, anger rushing through her veins. “i was just worried. and then you were mean to me, saying something about my attitude-”

“yeah, because you came over with a stick up your ass,” he says. “it was so embarrassing that you talked to me like that in front of people.”

“what, because i’m a girl?” she scoffs.

“because you’re my girl,” he snaps.

she stills, staring at him as he stands in the middle of his room. a few moments of tense silence sink between them.

“i had a few drinks,” he says. “that was all. i know about the drug tests. i’m not an idiot. i’ve been playing since freshman year. i was hanging out with some guys i know from one of my classes. they were smoking. i wasn’t. that was it.”

she lets his words wash over her.

“please sit down,” she finally says again, tears pricking her eyes. “please. i don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

she sniffles. he gives in and sits back down, elbows on his knees as he sits hunched over.

rafe swallows the lump in his throat, his gaze on the floor. he’s not used to someone caring about him this much. he’s always only had himself. even when he’s yelling at her, she’s pleading for him to rest.

he hates the feeling of being told what to do. but when it comes from her, it’s because she gives a shit. and that makes it feel almost okay.

“i’m sorry,” she says, her tone wobbly. “i shouldn’t have used that word. i shouldn’t have embarrassed you. i don’t think you’re stupid. i just hated the thought of you losing everything you’ve worked so hard for.”

she sighs shakily.

“but when you talked to me like that…” she says. “it made me feel so… small. they were laughing at me and you weren’t on my side. it reminded me of how those idiots started treating me after we started seeing each other.”

rafe’s lips twist tightly. so many of the guys on the team she cheers for and even some of the girls on her squad started alienating her, treating her like she was a traitor just for hanging out with rafe.

he knows how much that messed with her head. then the person she went through all that for embarrassed her in front of some guys who don’t even matter.

finally, his gaze meets hers. her stomach sinks once she sees that his eyes are glossy. she’s never seen him cry. he’s this affected? she thought he was just mad at her for being a bitch to him in front of his buddies.

“you told me before,” he mutters, “that you expect every relationship to crash and burn. you expect the worst from every guy you date.”

she blinks back tears. she did tell him that, word for word, back when they were just friends. it was a moment of drunken vulnerability when she was talking about how every man she’d ever been with just let her down. she didn’t think he’d remember it. that he’d apply it to himself.

“it was like you made your mind up,” he says. “you were already sure i was hiding something from you, already fucking something up.”

her forehead crinkles. she didn’t think that he’d see it like that.

“listen, i…” rafe exhales slowly. his anger has almost completely dissolved now that she actually apologized. now that she said it, he feels like he doesn’t deserve the sorry. she was just looking out for him. “i’m sorry, too. i was an asshole.”

she bites her lip. he doesn’t say more. she waits. and waits. and waits. but that’s his entire apology.

“okay,” she finally says, unsure of how to resolve this. she’s still carrying the weight of pain he caused her. he doesn’t seem to get how badly he hurt her.

“okay what?” he asks. his mind is racing. “okay like, this is over? you’re done?”

“no,” she says, her brows furrowing.

rafe looks miserable, sorrow etched into his features, and even though she’s still hurting, still mad at him, she seals the distance between them, moving to settle on the bed across from him.

“you know how shitty these past few days have been?” he says. “hoping you’ll text me but at the same time, hoping you won’t because what if the message says you want to go back to being friends? or just never want to see me again at all?”

the ache in her heart doubles.

“it didn’t cross my mind once to break up with you,” she says.

“really?” rafe meets her eyes again. he looks genuinely shocked by her words. she had no idea he was so afraid of being left. so sure that she’d give up on him so quickly.

“of course,” she whispers.

the tension in rafe’s chest slowly loosens from her reassurance. he comes closer, his guard crumbling. her hand is on his knee. he puts his hand over hers.

“this has been rough on me, too,” she says, sniffling. “i kept waiting for you to call. i hated that you brushed me off like that. and now it’s like you don’t even get how much you hurt me.”

this is a punch to his gut. but he deserves it.

“i was pissed. i wasn’t thinking straight,” he says. “and i… i called that night, remember? like five times. you only texted me that you were home and you never called back.”

her breath shakes again. he didn’t do enough. he can see that now.

“i should’ve kept calling,” he says. “i’m sorry, baby. i am. you were just looking out for me. i fucked up.”

his words make her anger lose its sharpness.

“so did i. i don’t expect the worst from you,” she mumbles. “i know how hard you work. i know you’re serious about basketball. i just… panicked.”

rafe needs to kiss her, to have the tangible evidence that she still wants him as bad as he wants her.

he leans forward, giving her the softest kiss he’s ever given her. he doesn’t have it in him to pull back. not when he’s missed her so bad that it hurts.

he gently presses his palm against the back of her neck, guiding her to nuzzle into him. he kisses the top of her head as she rests her cheek on his shoulder.

“i miss you so goddamn much,” he admits. “you have no idea how much i think about you.”

he feels her nod against him.

“me, too.”

“i’m sorry, okay?” rafe says.

“me, too,” she echoes.

they stay like that, curled into each other, hearts starting to beat in unison again.

as she breathes rafe’s scent, a warmth that she’s committed to memory now, she realizes they’re carrying more baggage than she would’ve expected.

maybe she does assume he’ll lie to her and disappoint her. it must be a knee-jerk reaction after so many failed relationships.

and he clearly has a fear of being left. he looked like he didn’t even believe her when she told him she wasn’t considering breaking up with him. maybe he never let anyone in before because he was sure they’d eventually bail on him.

but she knew they were both stubborn. both explosive. both their own version of damaged. it took three days and a long, tense argument to get here, touching again.

beneath the ache they share, she has hope. they came to each other to resolve this. this was their first fight as a couple and they made it out to the other end.

it might be hard sometimes. but as she feels his arms encircle her, heavy and warm and comforting, she knows it’s worth it. he’s worth it.

she lets out another shaky breath and he kisses the top of her head again. he can’t lose her. he won’t survive it if he does.

[jessiexflem]

- all-american | jessie fleming x reader

content: fluff, UCLA Jessie! (and Teagan being a butthead)

word count: 1.4K

requests are open :)

“You’re staring again,” Teagan pokes her teammate with the eraser on her pencil.

Heat rises up Jessie’s neck and face as she turns her head to glare at the Australian, “I am not!”

“Oh, whatever,” Teagan scoffs, rolling her eyes, “you’ve been giving her heart-eyes the entire time we’ve been here.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah? Then what’s the answer for number twelve?”

Jessie glances down at her calculus homework, the paper mostly unaltered except where she had scribbled her name in the top corner. 

“Thought so,” Teagan replies smugly, “Gotta get your head screwed on, Jess, our grades depend on it.”

“You aren’t even supposed to be talking right now,” Jessie points at the ‘quiet please’ sign above the librarian’s head before focusing back on her homework, hoping it would encourage her friend to drop the subject.

“Come on, Jess, why don’t you just ask her out?” 

“I thought you told me to focus on our homework,” Jessie sets her pencil down with a huff, “Plus, why would I do that?”

“Because you like her?” the Australian gives her a ‘duh?’ look.

“No, I don’t!” Jessie’s cheeks flush, “What makes you think that?”

“Well, for starters, we’ve been sitting here for over an hour, and you haven’t noticed that I moved your calculator underneath my notebook” Teagan chuckles, “Not to mention, any time you see her, she’s all you can talk about for hours. ‘Y/N’s so smart, Y/N showed me how to do this in lab, Y/N wasn’t in class today, and I missed her so mu–’”

“We’re just lab partners, that’s all,” Jessie shakes her head. 

Teagan crosses her arms, tipping her chair onto its back legs. She narrows her eyes at her roommate, a cheeky smile tugging at her lips. “Alright, so if you insist you don’t like Y/N, you won’t mind if I ask her out on a date?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But you don’t like her, right? So, you wouldn’t be jealous?”

“Go for it,” Jessie replies dryly. She knew there was no way Teagan would actually ask you out, she barely knew you. She wouldn’t even know who you were if she hadn’t (annoyingly) crashed one of your study sessions during midterms last semester. 

Putting her head down, Jessie redirects her attention back to her neglected math problems. The assignment was due at midnight, and she managed to make zero progress. Copying the numbers from the first question, she starts working through the equation until she realizes she needs a function on her graphing calculator.

“Can I have my calc–” Jessie stops mid-sentence as she looks up to see Teagan waving you over to their table, “What are you doing?!”

“You said I could ask Y/N out, so I figured I’d catch her as she was leaving.”

Backpack slung over your shoulders, you weave your way toward where the two were sitting. You notice Jessie’s posture tense as she whispers frantically to her teammate. Catching her eye, you direct a smile at your lab partner.

“Y/N!” Teagan greets cheerfully, “Done studying for the day?”

You shrug, “I should probably look over my ethics study guide a bit more, but I could feel my brain going numb and figured it was time for a break. What about you two?”

“Well, if you’re needing another study break later this week,” Teagan starts. Intrigued by what she had to say, you didn’t notice the color drain from Jessie’s normally rosy cheeks. “We were wondering if you were free Saturday afternoon? Jessie and I have a game at 4, and we wanted to invite you to watch.”

Jessie, realizing she was subconsciously holding her breath, let out a deep exhale. 

“I’d love to! I haven’t been able to make it out to one yet,” you say as your phone begins to buzz in your hand, “I’ve got to head out, but text me the details, Jess?”

Jessie nods rapidly, her brain unable to form a coherent answer. She watches you walk away, feeling Teagan’s eyes burning a hole in her cheek. She didn’t even have to turn her head to know that her friend had the biggest smirk on her face.

“So, if I ever think that my lab partner’s getting asked out on a date, should I look like I’m about to puke, too? Or are you going to admit you have a crush on the girl?” Teagan teases.

“I hate you,” Jessie mutters, glaring at her.

“Bet you can’t wait to show off your first team All-American skills, huh? You better practice what goal celebration you’re going to dedicate to her.”

“I’m done talking to you.”

“Jessie and Y/N, sitting in a tree, K–”

“Just give me my calculator back.”

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

Jessie was having a horrible game. She couldn’t remember the last time she played this poorly. Constantly losing the ball in the midfield, getting outrun and out-muscled by her opposing mark. Her head was running a thousand miles a minute, and the only thing she could focus on was that Y/N was sitting front row. 

It was the opposing team’s corner, and Teagan was shouting directions, ensuring each of her outfielders had their mark. The ball gets served in, and Jessie goes up for the header, making contact square on her forehead. However, instead of directing the ball out of the 18, her body was angled slightly toward the goal, meaning the ball veered toward Teagan instead. Luckily, it hit off the post and fell to their teammate, Hailie’s, feet, who cleared the ball toward midfield.

“Jessie, what the hell?” Jessie hears Teagan shout from behind her.

The halftime whistle blows, and Jessie couldn’t get to the locker room faster. Before she could reach her cubby, Coach Cromwell pulls her off to the side.

“Fleming, do you want to explain why it looks like you’ve never touched a soccer ball before in your life?” Coach Cromwell raises an eyebrow at her. 

“I–I don’t know, nerves, I guess,” Jessie gnaws on the inside of her cheek, unable to make eye contact with her coach.

“Well, you better get your nerves sorted by the end of halftime unless you want to get benched for the rest of the game.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jessie nods, keeping her head down as she shuffles to her locker. Teagan, assigned the cubby next to her, frowns at her, brows furrowed with concern.

The second half went smoother for the midfielder. Her tackles were timed better, and she had better possession of the ball. The game remained tied at 0-0, UCLA pushing the ball into the opposing half of the field. Hailie sent a ball into Jessie’s feet, and she dribbled down the sideline, the opposing winger closing in on her. Faking left, she got the opponent to bite, leaving her a hole for Jessie to slip the ball between her legs. The crowd went nuts, you included. Jessie laid the ball off for her teammate, Ashley, who took the ball into the corner drawing a defender so the Canadian could make a run in. Ashley crossed a low-through ball into the box, which Jessie met at the top of the six, slotting it into the bottom-left corner of the goal. 

You jumped to your feet, cheering as loud as you could. Noticing Jessie scanning the crowd, you give her an overexaggerated wave, to which she acknowledges with a smile. The game ends 2-0, Ashley tacking on another goal in the final two minutes. Waiting for Jessie and Teagan to complete their “good games” and post-game huddle, you stick yourself by the fence in a spot where they could easily find you. 

“Y/N, you made it!” Teagan exclaims, jogging over, Jessie not far off her heels. 

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you beam, “you guys did awesome! Great goal, Jess.”

Jessie’s cheeks flush as Teagan throws an arm around her, “She nearly had two.”

“You’re never letting me live that down, will you?” she groans, trying to avoid Teagan’s soft punches to her ribs.

“Teagan!” the three of you turn to see Hailie motioning Teagan back over to the bench, giggling, “Come here!”

“I’ll be back,” Teagan says, shooting Jessie an obvious wink before running off. Jessie throws her hands up in protest, grumbling something under her breath. She turns back to you, cheeks still red.

“Um, thanks for coming to watch,” she smiles sheepishly. A few yards behind her, she can hear Teagan making loud, fake coughs. Their conversation from the other day flashes through her mind. “I still have to shower, but would you, uh, maybe want to get dinner? With me, I mean?”

“Teagan and Hailie, too? Or, are you asking me out on a date?” you grin.

“I–well, I mean,” Jessie stammers, her face hot. 

“Because I’d much rather it be a date,” you assure.

Relief floods through Jessie’s entire body. “Then it’s a date.”

[thequeenofcurses]

Valentine's Day 2025

summary: How your JJK bf/gf treats you for Valentine’s this year. reader (gender neutral) x jjk characters. multi pairings (SEPERATE) wk: 1.2k

masterlist | jjk masterlist

Nobara would never settle for a boring, cliché date. She’d want to do something cool and stylish, like a high-end shopping spree, a fashion show, or a trendy rooftop bar with fancy cocktails. But deep down, she’s also a romantic. She’d surprise you with a personalized gift, like a charm bracelet with little symbols of your relationship. If you’re into cozy dates, she would plan a spa day together or a cute café hopping adventure (she needs you to try all the new boba flavors!). One thing’s for sure, she’d want pictures of the whole day to post later because you both looked amazing.

“We’re gonna make everyone jealous today. ‘Cause I’m hot, you’re hot, and we’re the ultimate power couple.”

Yuji would want the perfect mix of romance and fun and what better way to do that then just spending the day at home with you! He doesn’t want to do anything fancy. He would order pizza with your favorite toppings on it. He would spend the day gaming with you in the morning, then doing some LARP with your new cosplays in the afternoon. By the evening, you would go back and forth, debating which Human Earthworm film is the best, ultimately agreeing with each other by the end. The night would probably end with you two cuddling, watching a movie under a blanket fort, sharing snacks, and him confessing how much he loves you in the softest, most genuine way.

“I just wanted today to be fun for you, y’know? ‘Cause every day with you is already special for me.”

Megumi isn’t one for grand gestures, but he always pays attention to what makes you happy. He’d take you on a quiet picnic at the beach, under the stars, bringing along your favorite foods. If he knows you like books, he might take you to a cozy bookstore café, or if you enjoy nature, a walk in a peaceful park (with both his cute dogs!). Megumi isn’t much for words, but he makes up for it with small, meaningful actions, like holding your hand, getting you plushies, or even giving you a handwritten letter with all the things he struggles to say out loud.

“…I hope this is okay. I just wanted to spend the day with you.”

Yuta would plan a soft, dreamy date. He’d take you somewhere quiet and beautiful like the beach at sunset or a scenic rooftop with a perfect view of the city lights. He’s a romantic at heart (*cough Rika’s curse cough*), so he’d probably write you a song or a poem (even if he’s nervous about performing it). Expect long, deep conversations, soft hand-holding, and forehead kisses. His gift would be something deeply personal, like a locket with your initials inside or a book filled with handwritten notes about why he loves you.

“I love you more than words can say, but I’ll spend every day trying to show you.” (Just don’t die right after he confesses his love to you or you might be bound to him as a curse forever!)

Toji hates Valentine’s because of all the mushy expectations. Plus, he can’t afford to take you anywhere fancy or a lavish gift anyways. Although, instead of some fancy dinner, he would take you somewhere wild like Dick’s (the restaurant) or an underground fight club. He really loves the adrenaline rush, so your date could also include something exhilarating, like skydiving (if you pay for it), a motorcycle ride along the coast, or a secret, hidden bar where no one knows your name (if there’s no entry fee). His gift would be something personal but practical, like a custom weapon or jewelry with a hidden blade.

“What? You thought I’d buy you flowers? You can’t stab someone with flowers, babe.”

Nanami never misses a beat. Every birthday, every winter holiday, every anniversary, and today is no exception. He’d make reservations at a quiet, fancy restaurant, one with dim lighting, classical music, and impeccable service. He’d order a bottle of fine wine, and the two of you would enjoy deep conversation over a gourmet meal. If he’s feeling extra romantic (we all know he usually is), he might cook for you at home. A delicious candlelit dinner with your favorite music playing in the background. The night would end with a slow dance in the living room with a heartfelt confession about how much you mean to him. 

“I don’t need a special occasion to love you, but if today gives me an excuse to show it, I won’t waste it.”

Geto would take you somewhere sophisticated and away from the other monkeys. He’d reserve a private tea house, where the two of you could enjoy the serenity of a beautiful garden. Or he would have the cursed humans in his cult be useful and cook a divine meal and serve you two (the only thing he finds them good for). If you have cursed energy, he would take you to an art exhibit, holding hands, discussing art, and loving his time with you. If you don’t have cursed energy, he’ll take you to the zoo (he makes jokes that you belong with the animals, but he reassures you he’s ‘just kidding’). His words would be poetic, smooth, and laced with meaning, making you feel like you’re the most precious thing in the world, after all of his joking.

“Being with you is the one indulgence I’ll never regret.”

Choso would go out of his way to make the day special and heartfelt. He’s never experienced Valentine’s before, so he wants to do everything he can to make sure he does it right. He’s not great with flashy gestures, but he’d hand make gifts (maybe a handwritten love letter, a scarf that matches his, or a small photo album of your memories together). He’d love to take you to a flower garden. His priority is making sure you feel safe, loved, and appreciated.

“I don’t need anything fancy. Just you.”

Satoru Gojo is not the kind of man to hold back. He would go all out. He’d whisk you away on a surprise getaway, maybe a private helicopter ride over the city or a trip to a luxurious resort. Expect super flashy gifts, teasing banter, and him showing you off to anyone who’ll listen. If you prefer something more lowkey, he’d rent out an entire planetarium or completely rent out that karaoke bar you two love to hang out at. You two would have the rest of the night to stare at the stars (not counting the ones in his eyes every time he looks at you) or sing your hearts out together. Either way, he makes sure you feel like the most special person in the world.

“Only the best for you.”

Sukuna is absolutely not the “flowers and chocolates” type, but if he truly loves you, expect something unexpectedly intense. He might take you to a private onsen (hot spring) deep in the mountains, where the two of you can enjoy the peace and quiet, away from the world. If he’s feeling indulgent, he’d have Uraume cook you two an exotic dinner. He would love to take you to a secluded temple or a rooftop with a breathtaking view. His gifts would be personal, perhaps handcrafted jewelry infused with cursed energy, something that marks you as his.

“Tch. You’re lucky I care for you this much. Brat.”

Should I expand on any of these? Happy Valentine’s day to you all <3 

dividers by @omi-resources & @cafekitsune

[bitchinbarzal]

Echo of a heartbeat | N Hischier

summary: after the loss of their baby they can’t find it in them to move on.

-

Newark’s winter felt as cold and heavy as the sadness that had taken over Nico and Y/N’s small apartment. Once filled with dreams and plans for a baby, the home now echoed with a silence that cut deep. They had lost their baby halfway through the pregnancy, and every room reminded them of the hope they once shared.

In the nursery, the loss was felt most sharply. The walls, once chosen with care for a future filled with lullabies and soft giggles, now seemed to close in on Y/N. The crib stood empty, and a simple mobile, meant to sway gently above the bed, hung there as a quiet relic of what might have been. Y/N would sit in the old rocking chair for hours, cradling a tiny onesie in her hands — a piece of fabric that now held nothing but memories and pain.

Nico tried to keep his life moving on the ice. His teammates noticed the haunted look in his eyes and the way he moved like he was going through the motions, even as his heart stayed stuck at home. Every time he returned to Newark after a game, he hoped for a sign that Y/N was still with him, still fighting against the dark cloud that had taken hold of her.

But each day, Y/N seemed to slip further away. In the quiet of the apartment, she rarely left the nursery.

Sometimes, Nico would find her curled up on the floor with a soft baby blanket wrapped around her, as if that fragile fabric could hold her together.

He would approach her gently, asking her to talk, to share even a small part of the pain she felt. But her answers were few and far between, often just a whispered “I don’t know how to do this anymore”

One night, Nico returned home to find the nursery door closed. His heart sank as he knocked softly, calling her name, but there was no answer. Later, when he discovered a small note left on the kitchen table in Y/N’s shaky handwriting, his world seemed to crumble even further. The note read, “I can’t do this anymore, Nico. I need space” In that moment, he realized that despite all his efforts, the darkness that had taken hold of Y/N was growing too strong.

In the days that followed, the apartment grew even quieter. Y/N spent more and more time in the nursery, isolating herself behind the closed door. Nico would leave little reminders of his love; a warm cup of tea waiting on the counter, a handwritten note left on her pillow hoping that she might feel a spark of the person she once was. But each gesture was met with silence. With every passing day, it felt as if the distance between them grew wider, as if the loss had built an unyielding wall between their hearts.

Nico’s attempts to reach out only seemed to push Y/N further away. Even though he held her close when she cried, the pain in her eyes told him that her struggle was deeper than he could ever understand. The vibrant life they had once imagined together was gone, replaced by a constant, overwhelming grief that neither could escape.

Every morning, Nico awoke with the hope that today might be the day Y/N would open up, that the cold emptiness in the nursery would be replaced by a sign of life.

Instead, he found only the lingering scent of baby powder and the quiet, steady sound of her soft sobs behind a locked door. The love they had once shared now felt fragile.

The loss was a heavy burden, and for Y/N, it felt like living in a world without color. The baby they had hoped for was now just a memory.

As days turned into weeks, Nico found himself caught between holding onto hope and the harsh reality that his efforts might never bring Y/N back from the edge of her despair.

One rainy afternoon, as grey clouds hung low over Newark, Nico sat by the window watching raindrops race down the glass he thought of the future that had been taken from them and of the baby whose absence filled every room.

He missed Y/N’s laughter, her gentle touch, and the light she once brought into his life. But now, all he felt was an aching emptiness that no amount of love seemed able to fill.

That evening, after another long, hard day on the ice, Nico came home to a silence that felt final. Y/N was not in the living room, and the nursery door remained locked, as it had for so many days. In that silence, Nico understood that the woman he loved had retreated so far into her grief that there was nothing left for him to hold on to. The darkness had won, and despite his every effort, Y/N had slipped away into a pain that he could not reach.

Nico clutched the note she had left and sat in the dim light of their once happy home, surrounded by memories of hope now turned to sorrow. The future they had dreamed of was gone, and in its place was a lingering sadness that no time could erase. In that quiet, empty room, Nico realized that sometimes love is not enough to save someone.

The echoes of what once was filled the apartment—a constant reminder of a light that had been lost. And in the end, the silence of the empty nursery stood as a final testament to a love that could not overcome the shadow of loss.

He had lost his daughter and his wife.

[carlottawllms]

Author's note: Welcome back! It's crazy, but it's been one week already since I posted chapter I. Let me just say that there's plenty more to come. Enjoy

As always, feedback is very much appreciated. And now, enjoy! 🩷

After two weeks, everything was still a little messy and chaotic, but that was to be expected. Ellie was fine though, she started to settle properly and although she still preferred to be close to either Mason or you, her initial clinginess had died down a little as well. She was back to being that happy girl you knew.

The first week of taking care of Mason’s little daughter by yourself was nearly over and whilst you’d been a bit worried about how Ellie might take it all, everything had been going great.

Ellie had been more than well-behaved, a little sunshine really. Obviously, she was a little sad every time her daddy had to leave in the morning, but as the days had passed and Mason had come back every afternoon, the little one was more relaxed now and she seemed to enjoy the time she got to spend with you.

And today would be the little one’s first time in the stadium. You actually hadn’t known it would be her first game until Mason had told you this morning, that Mae had never really bothered to come and see him play, claiming that she just didn’t enjoy watching them play, so she’d barely been to Old Trafford and then when Ellie came along, it would’ve been – in Mae’s words – too much of a faff.

When you’d told Mason you’d come to cheer him on with Ellie, his eyes had lit up and the bright smile on his face had told you everything about what it meant to him.

“C’mon Ellie, we’ve got to leave now or we’ll be late.”, you called, the kids home shirt with daddy and number 7 printed in bold letters on the back, in your hands and it wasn’t long before the little girl came bouncing down the hallway, an excited smile on her face.

“Daddyyyy!”

“Yeah, we’re going to see daddy.”, you smiled as she all but crashed into your arms. “Want to put your shirt on?”

“Yessss!”

About 40 minutes later, you were embraced in a bearhug by none other than Jaz. “Oh, I missed you, y/n.”

With you by his side him as mental support, Mason had called his parents on the day all hell had broken lose and given them a brief rundown of what had happened. Debbie had immediately offered to come to Manchester, but after he’d been able to reassure her that he wanted to try it with your help first, she’d agreed.

Jaz however had insisted on coming up this weekend. Mason had just rolled his eyes at her, but you knew that she only meant well and just wanted to make sure that her little brother and his daughter were okay and taken care of.

“I missed you too.”, you hummed, before crouching down to the little girl by her side. “And you, too, Sums. You’re all grown up already, wow.”

Summer grinned brightly after kissing your cheek. Mason's niece definitely came second in the ranking of the cutest children, just behind Ellie.

“You girls wanna walk together?”, you asked setting Ellie down. She looked a little hesitant with all the people around, but when you tightly grabbed her small hand in yours and smiled down at her, she nodded.

Jaz had grabbed one of Summer’s hands herself, whilst the two girls in their Mount shirts walked in between the two of you, swinging their intertwined hands as they were talking amongst themselves, and it wasn’t long until you were inside the family lounge.

Ellie had warmed up to the situation and was more than comfortable running around with Summer and playing with the other kids, but you still kept a close eye on her.

“I’d never expected anything like this to happen.”, Jaz sighed suddenly. “I’d always put her down as a responsible person, you know? It’s just…you are friends with her right? Did she erm…say anything?”

“No, I…Mae and I haven’t been friends anymore since their break-up, to be honest. I don’t know what he told you about why he ended things, but it was basically the same reason I ended my friendship with her.”

Mason had never told you whether or not his family knew that Mae had cheated on him three weeks before he’d broken up with her. He hadn’t been supposed to be home that early but a power cut at Carrington had forced them to end the session a little earlier and he’d actually been happy about it, thinking he could go home and warm himself up with a little family cuddle after kicking a ball around in the cold for too long, but when he’d arrived Mae was busy warming herself up with a guy Mason had never seen before.

They’d been going at it in the living room, moaning and screaming as if they’d been alone although their little girl Ellie had been upstairs, crying for her mum.

It had broken Mason’s heart and he’d been furious, but for Ellie’s sake, he’d been willing to try and forgive Mae. You knew he’d tried; he’d really tried and he’d wanted to make it work, but then one evening, he’d knocked at your door, eyes filled with tears and he’d confessed that every time he looked at Mae, he saw the way she’d been moaning for that other guy.

“Oh, I…I didn’t know that. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. It was one of those situations where you just have to choose and well…there was only ever one answer to the question Mason or Mae.”, you smiled, watching Jaz’ expression soften and a smile taking over her features. “He’s my best friend, Jaz and I would’ve never encouraged him to go on a date with her if I hadn’t thought it would work out. When they told me they were expecting little Ellie, I was over the moon for them. They’d talked about getting married and…god I was so sad for him.”

Jaz nodded. “It sounds silly, but for Mase it’s not easy to find someone who’s serious about him. And now with a kid it’s even more difficult.”, she mumbled, running her hand through her hair.

She really looked worried, and you’d love to reassure her, but there wasn’t much you could say. Mason hadn’t been looking for anybody before and now with Ellie living with him, he certainly wouldn’t be any time soon either.

You knew him. He was all focused on his career whilst enjoying his single life every now and then, whilst a serious relationship hadn’t crossed his mind for a while. And you couldn’t blame him for that. After having been cheated on a year ago, you hadn’t expected him to dive head first into something new and whilst you had never been necessarily thrilled about the girls he’d taken home, you’d understood and never interfered. Unless he’d called you and begged you to scare one off when she hadn’t gotten the message.

“I know, it’s never really easy, but the right one for him will come. And it won’t matter to her that he has a kid cause if she’s the right one she will love Ellie as if she was her own, you know?”

Jaz chuckled and nodded, thinking about how you’d basically just perfectly described yourself, but she kept her mouth shut. She’d always thought that you and her brother would be perfect for each other, but as it wasn’t any of her business she’d never said anything.

“On another note, y/n, thank you so much for stepping up and being there for him and Ellie. In times like this it’s even worse for us that he’s so far away and we can’t just come by and help, but knowing you’re here makes it a lot easier. We all appreciate it so much; you have no idea.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Like I said he’s my best friend and I love Ellie, of course I offer my help, Jaz.”, you smiled, when small hands patting your leg interrupted your conversation. “Hello there, my little munchkin.”, you cooed, lifting little Ellie into your lap. She immediately snuggled into your chest and grabbed your hand to play with your fingers.

The two of you kept talking for a little longer, but it wasn’t long until you were eventually outside and looking all over the pitch.

The game itself went pretty well. United won comfortably and the goal Mason had scored had made the four of you cheer loudly in the box. Ellie had been jumping up and down on your legs, repeating the words daddy and goal over and over again until you’d eventually got her settled in your lap again.

“Daddy will be here any second now.”, you reassured Ellie who was getting a little antsy in your hold. You could tell that she started to miss him properly as she hadn’t seen him since yesterday evening. “And then he’s all yours. You’ll get aaaaall the cuddles in the world, and kisses and hugs and maybe if you ask nicely, he’ll get you some ice cream too.”

You tickled her side with your free hand, trying to cheer her up a little as you didn’t want Mason to worry about her and thankfully, he showed up rather quickly. He’d trapped his washbag under his arm, but once he’d reached you, it was quickly abandoned on the table next to you before he took Ellie from you.

“Daddy!”

“Hi baby.” A bright smile took over his face, dimples carving into his cheeks as he nuzzled his nose against his daughter’s. The little girl giggled and tried to hide in her dad’s neck, but he simply followed her, targeting her little button nose for a little longer before smooching her cheek and letting her lean her head against his shoulder. 

“Hello to you too.” Your heart warmed when Mason directed his pretty smile at yours. With his free arm wrapping around your waist, he pulled you into him for a hug.

“Hi Mase. Congrats on your goal, I’m proud of you.”, you smiled, squeezing him a little before you left a kiss on his stubbly cheek. Mason, who wasn’t good at accepting compliments, blushed at your words. “C’mon go say hi to the other two. Summer is dying to see her favourite uncle, and we all want to leave rather soon. I promised them I’d cook for us before heading home so you can unpack and spend some time with Jaz and the tiny devils.”

When you pulled away from him, to push him towards Jaz and Summer, who had her eyes already set on your best friend, Mason gently grabbed you by your elbow, his brown eyes locking on yours. “You sure you don’t mind? You’ve spent all week at mine and haven’t had time for yourself, y/n.”

“Stop worrying, Mase.”, you smiled softly. “I’m a big girl, I know what I’m doing. I have tomorrow all to myself in case you remember.”, you laughed, squeezing his hand reassuringly and although Mason didn’t look convinced, he let you push him towards his sister and niece.

-

An hour later, you were all back at Mason’s. Jaz had occupied the living room, playing with Summer and Ellie, whilst your best friend was upstairs, sorting his stuff in his bedroom. After coming back, you’d quickly changed into sweatpants and a matching hoodie and were now working away in the kitchen.

On the way home you’d decided on making spag bol. Not only, because it was a quick and easy meal but also because the kids loved it as much as Mason did. You were about to finish the sauce, when the latter trailed into the kitchen.

“Have you seen Ellie’s pink bottle by chance?”, he asked and as he brushed past you, his hand softly caressed the small of your back. “She’s refusing to use any other.”

“Yeah, it’s up there, I think.”, you nodded towards one of the upper cabinets. “I cleaned it this morning. I think she- Mase!”

A shocked gasp left your mouth as in the moment Mason reached up to grab the bottle, his shirt lifted and revealed a rather large bruise forming on his lower back. Without thinking, you stepped closer to him and pulled the fabric up even further.

“What happened? Are you okay?” You voice was laced with worry as you carefully inspected his bruised skin with the very tips of your fingers, trying not to hurt him.

“It’s from training.”, he shrugged, trying to play it off although it did hurt like a little bitch. “Fell awkwardly on Rasmus’ leg. It’s nothing though, they checked it.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”, you sighed, knowing it probably wasn’t too bad, but you hated when Mason was hurt and you couldn’t do much to help him. “I think I have this gel in my bag, you know, the one they gave me when I injured my shoulder. Let me get that real quick.”

With a pat to his shoulder, you dashed out of the kitchen.

Shaking his head with a fond smile on his lips, Mason chuckled quietly. There was no need for you to go all doctor on him as the medical department at Carrington had stocked him up on gels and whatever would help with the healing process, but he would never tell you that. He liked your caring side way too much for that and whilst he’d never admit it, he also wanted to feel your soft hands on his skin again.

With rosy cheeks, he was startled out of his thoughts when you came back into the kitchen. “Got it. Bend over for me, will you?”

“In my head it’s always been me saying that to you, but I don’t mind reversed roles every once in a while.”, he laughed. Partly to tease you, but mainly to get his head back straight.

“Mason.”, you laughed as you pinched his side in feigned outrage. You knew he was just joking, but your face still turned a deep shade of red.

“Can you blame me? You provided me with the opportunity, don’t blame me for- Ouch! Stop pinching me.”

“Behave then.”, you laughed. “And now stop moving otherwise it really will hurt.”

With one hand, you pushed his shirt up his back and as your gaze once again fell on the colourful bruise, a deep sigh escaped your lips. It didn’t look good at all. Carefully, to avoid causing him more pain, you applied a thin layer of the gel all over his affected skin, apologising ever so often when his tiny hisses and groans could be heard in the kitchen.

Mason’s eyes had fallen shut the moment your warm hands had touched his back and the longer you kept going the more difficult it became to hide the shivers rolling up his spine. Your gentle touch was relaxing, and it was way too early when you squeezed his sides and told him you were done.

 “You really need to take care of yourself, Mase.”, you told him, gaze lingering on the way the muscles danced under his skin as he straightened up again.

“I promise you, I will.” Mason pressed his lips softly to your forehead in an attempt to reassure you once he’d turned around. “Thank you, y/n.”

You would’ve loved to keep him around, but Ellie calling for him had him pulling away from you. He grabbed the bottle, filled it with water and padded back into the living room, leaving you and your thoughts alone in the kitchen.

It hadn't even been a whole week, but Ellie and you had become very attuned to one another. She trusted you and liked being around you, she was happy and always up to whatever you proposed, whilst you’d figured out quickly which things she liked and preferred to do.

Juggling the job and the little one had turned out to be surprisingly easy too. Mason had set up an office for you on the same floor as Ellie’s bedroom so you could keep an eye on her without having to be with her all the time and she had the chance to come see you whenever she wanted or needed to.

You loved it. Not just the time with Ellie though, but also the time you got to spend with Mason. Of course, the two of you had spent time together before too, but with him being incredibly busy and having to share the time between rather lots of people, it had been nowhere near as much as right now.

In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d cooked and had dinner together and now that you got to see him this often, you realised you hadn’t cherished the time before enough.

Deep in thoughts, you didn’t notice Mason coming back into the kitchen, so you nearly jumped out of your skin the moment he brushed up right behind you, hands settling on your hips.

The way he was so touchy with you made you a little shy and you had to remind yourself that it was just Mason and there was no reason to get all blushy.

“I forgot to ask what you’re making.”, he mumbled, his chin propped up on your shoulder to catch a glimpse of what was in the pots right in front of you. “Is it spag bol?”

You could literally hear his childlike excitement when he’d made sense of all the ingredients and when you nodded, he wiggled his head happily before pecking your cheek quickly. “Looks and smells amazing, love.”

And because he was as cheeky as they come, he didn’t miss the opportunity to try and dip his finger into the sauce, but you knew him well enough to anticipate his next move, so before he could actually burn himself, you pushed his hand away.

“It’s hot Mase.”, you giggled at the pout you could spot from the corner of your eye. “Don’t you have anything to do? Places to be? Anything?”

Mason just laughed at your attempt to shoo him away and nodded. “I’ll see what my other favourite girls are doing then.”, he told you. Squeezing your waist, he dropped a kiss to the top of your head before leaving you on your own; your flushed cheeks from the way he’d referred to you as his favourite girl going entirely unnoticed by him.

You quickly finished the spaghetti before calling everyone to come sit down. Unsurprisingly, Ellie and Summer were the first to beg for Jaz and Mason to put them into their seats and the moment you filled their plates with pasta and Bolognese, their eyes nearly popped out of their heads.

“Pagetti!”, Summer screeched, nearly jumping out of her seat the moment Jaz reached for her plate to cut the pasta in smaller bits.

You looked up from filling the remaining plates when Mason’s sweet voice had you looking up. “Is that yummy, Ellie?”, he asked, watching the way his daughter dipped her finger into the sauce on her plate, whilst Mason cut the spaghetti and when the little one hummed and nodded in agreement, he looked up to you with a soft smile.

You blushed, but smiled back at him before focusing on putting pasta onto your plate as well and sitting down opposite of him and Ellie.

*

The next day was your so-called day off. After the game the day before, Mason – and the rest of his team obviously – had been given the day off. You’d protested a little when he had told you that you should take the day for yourself to recover from the week, but in the end he’d got his way.

After finishing some chores, all you’d been doing was lounging on the sofa and making your way through several Netflix films and series. You’d even ordered yourself some food as the laziness had been too strong and now that you were wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, eyes growing a little heavy, you realised that you’d actually needed this day off.

Not that you hadn’t enjoyed spending time with Ellie and in the evenings with Mason too, but until you’d laid down a couple of hours ago, you hadn’t noticed just how exhausted you actually were.

Whilst you were enjoying the quiet time all by yourself, Mason and Jaz had taken the kids for a little walk. The two girls were walking in front, giggling away and trying to find some pretty flowers to pick, whilst Mason was indulged in his thoughts.

And every single one of these thoughts revolved around you.

In the last two weeks, you had always been by his side. When he’d gone to training? You’d been there. When he’d come home from training? You’d been there. After his game? You’d been there. You’d become a reassuring constant and while he actually really liked it, he couldn’t help but feel like he was becoming too dependent on you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”, Jaz asked, already suspecting something was up and when her brother released a deep sigh, it was proof enough for her.

“This is gonna make me sound insane.”, he huffed, kicking a pebble to the side of the path, but deep down he knew that his sister would never judge him. Maybe give him a bit of a talking to, but not more. “y/n is really amazing, you know? With Ellie obviously, but also in the way she supports me. Like when I get back home, she’s done all these things like cooking and tidying up already, so I get to spend time with my trouble on two legs.”

Mason kicked another pebble when he gave himself a moment to figure out how to voice his worries.

“It’s been just two weeks and I already feel like I can’t do anything without her. Not because she wouldn’t let me, but because it’s normal that she’s there and part of our lives and it’s just…what if I get too dependent on her? Until Ellie can go to nursery it’ll take a while and…I don’t know it’s just worrying me. Like even today it feels weird that y/n isn’t here, you know?”  

Jaz just smiled, her heart filled with warmth because she knew that despite the worries plaguing him right now, he had you, the most wonderful best friend anyone could ever ask for, by his side. She knew, no matter what, he’d always find you having his back and fighting his corner.

“That’s okay, Mase.”, she began, touching his arm in reassurance. “y/n has been there since all normality disappeared from your everyday life. Of course, it feels like you could never do it on your own because, let's face it, it would be incredibly stressful, but deep down you know that if you had to, you could manage without her. Just with a lot more sacrifices.”

“I know, it’s just that…it’s difficult to explain but…what if I depend too much on her? Like she has her own life and stuff going on and all she does right now is taking care of Ellie and me and…what if…what if she…erm…”

“What if she leaves, you mean?”, Jaz asked softly.

“Yes.” His voice was quiet and a little shaky, hesitant in confessing his deepest fear and her heart broke for her little brother. The whole situation had obviously taken a toll on him and on top of that he was worrying his best friend could leave him.

“I understand that, Mase.”, she sighed. “But if you ask me, you don't have to worry about that. She's your best friend and yes, maybe she didn't realise the extent of it when she offered to help, but I can't imagine her just running away. I've seen how she deals with Ellie, how she cares and how much she loves her.”, Jaz squeezed her little brother’s arm a little. “But of course, I can't promise you anything. Don’t you have another day off tomorrow? You should talk to her, you know? Be honest with her, tell her about your worries and then you can go from there together, okay?”

Mason gave it a little thought, unsure if he could actually be that honest with you and tell you how terrified he truly was, but he knew he had to. For Ellie’s sake.

“You’re probably right. Thanks Jaz.”

“That’s okay.”, she smiled. “And if you don’t want it to continue like this you know that you have us, and we’ll step up. Mum and Dad already said they’d move to Manchester until Ellie can go to nursery, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Thank you. Honestly, thank you, Jaz.”

Mason pulled his sister into a tight hug and the realisation that no matter what would happen, he had all of his family by his side was reassuring enough to find the bravery to send you a quick text.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened your chat, chuckling quietly as his gaze fell on the name he’d saved you under. You were a happy person; a smile was almost all the time grazing your lips and lighting up your beautiful face, but above all, you giggling was his favourite sound in the world.

[userluhna]

COMFORT IN THE DARK

hwang junho x f!reader series

words: 4.6k

warnings: mentions of nightmares and trauma (usual squid game stuff) mentions of blood and injury, anxiety, intense emotional scene, sexual tension, no smut!

a/n: feeling a bit nervous about this one hope you will like it.

enjoy! :)

it had been two weeks since you hadn’t seen junho as much as you used to. he would always stop by your café when you were working, either before or after his shift. on mornings when he had duty, he’d come around 4 p.m., usually staying for about an hour before heading to the boat, only to return later in the evening, walking you home afterward. on afternoons, he’d drop by around 1 p.m., sometimes earlier, especially if he eat with you before heading out again at 3. but lately, his visits had become shorter. he’d text you, missing you—though he’d never admit it out loud.

“sorry, i can’t make it today. lot of work.” “wanna grab lunch together?” you’d feel the sting of his absence each time, but you knew it wasn’t intentional. you missed him, though.

you could tell he was exhausted, especially on weekends when he would sit at your desk, working from his computer, the weight of his frustration visible on his face. if it rained, he would stay in the café, staring at his screen, barely acknowledging the world around him. he would tell you about how nothing was moving forward, how the weight of it all was driving him crazy. this particular afternoon, you had enough. you forced him to stay, though he tried to argue.

“y/n, i can’t. i’ve got to—” he started, but you cut him off, not giving in this time.

“no. you’re staying here this afternoon. i don’t want to hear it,” you said softly, but firmly, your eyes holding his. he sighed, glancing at the clock. it was already 6 p.m., and he hadn’t gone to the boat that day.

“y/n, i have to finish this. i can’t just—” he began, but you interrupted again.

“junho,” you said, your tone more serious, “if you keep pushing yourself like this, you’re going to break. just stop for a second, alright?”

he stayed quiet for a moment, his shoulders slumping in defeat. he reluctantly agreed, staying for the rest of the afternoon, though he never truly stopped working. he kept his focus on the screen, still working, still investigating. you occasionally glanced at him, watching how tired he was, how little rest he allowed himself. the afternoon dragged on. finally, when you both headed back home, the silence between you felt heavier than usual. when you arrived at your place, you looked over at him sitting on the couch, his eyes fighting to stay open.

“you’re going to kill yourself or something one day,” the words left your mouth before you could stop them. they felt heavier than you intended, and he bit the inside of his cheek. you immediately regretted it.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to say it like that—” you quickly said, “but really, junho, it’s too much.”

his gaze became sharp, maybe you pushed too much. “it’s never enough,” he muttered, frustration lacing his voice. his head dropped into his hands, his shoulders heavy. he sat up slowly, his cravat coming loose from his uniform. “can i take a shower?” even though he knew he could, the question felt strangely intimate.

“yes, of course,” you replied, your voice quieter than usual. the air felt tighter now, and for the first time in a while, the weight between you seemed palpable. he disappeared into the bathroom, and you exhaled, finally allowing yourself to breathe. the sound of water running filled your apartment, its rhythm oddly calming. you finished preparing dinner, your mind still occupied by everything that had been said. when he finally came out of the bathroom, he wore one of the t-shirts he had left here a while ago, a simple pair of joggers sitting low on his hips. his hair was still wet, and he had a towel in his hand, drying it.

you didn’t even try to hide it—your eyes lingered, taking in how good he looked. he caught your gaze and smiled teasingly.

“staring at me?” he teased, the air lightening between you two. you rolled your eyes, but the tension had shifted, the moment feeling a little easier.

“get some real food,” you said, nudging him toward the table.

you ate together, sharing small details of your day, but even with the casual conversation, you didn’t last long. junho was already half-asleep on the couch as you made your way to your bedroom. your cat followed behind, curling up beside him. you paused at the door, watching junho’s exhausted form. it wasn’t just physical exhaustion. it was everything—the weight of it all that he carried alone. you wanted to say something more, but the words didn’t come.

the dim light of the night filtered into your small living room. junho was asleep on the couch, just passing out from exhaustion. the air felt heavier, almost suffocating, as he shifted in his sleep, his eyes cracking open slightly as if sensing something—someone’s presence.

but when he saw the bright pink suit against the soft darkness of your apartment, his eyes shot wide open. it wasn’t just any bright pink; it was their bright pink suit. he saw two guards near your bedroom door, one of them facing him. junho’s fist clenched tighter, and he shifted on the couch to sit up. one of the guards moved toward him, and junho immediately went on high alert. he wanted to speak, but his words wouldn’t come out. his lips parted, but no sound came.

“029,” the guard’s robotic voice cut through the tension. junho looked down at his hand—black gloves, his usual sleepwear replaced with that same bright pink suit. his heart skipped a beat, his breath coming in uneven gasps. “well done,” the square guard added.

junho had no idea what was happening, what he’d done, or why they were here. as he lifted his head, he saw you—being carried from your warm, comfortable bedroom, your legs soaked with blood, eyes barely open.

his instincts kicked in. he jumped up and rushed toward you, without even realizing he had a gun in his hand. “no, no, no!” he panicked, turning toward the other guard now standing by the couch. “why did you do that?” his voice cracked, filled with raw emotion.

“but you did 029,” the guard responded, his words cold, detached. junho’s mind raced, his body drenched in sweat. he looked at the gun in his hand, then at you, trembling, unable to move as if he were frozen in place.

“we’re going to take care of her,” the guard closest to him said, holding your limp body in his arms.

before junho could react, before he could grab you, save you, or fight back—his breath caught in his throat. he couldn’t breathe, suffocating on the realization of what they meant.

his eyes shot open, and he gasped for air, sitting up on the couch in your dark apartment. everything around him was still—no bright pink, just your cat, looking at him. his feet hit the cold wooden floor, and he took a moment to steady himself, still gasping for breath. his hand ran through his hair, then along his face, and he realized he was crying. he had nightmares about the island, about being trapped there again, but nothing had ever involved you… until now. maybe he had said too much to you, maybe he had put you in danger. doubts and questions flooded his mind, but he couldn’t calm down. his t-shirt clung to his body, soaked in sweat. he pulled it off, feeling like it was too much to bear, and wiped his face with it.

he was alone in the soft darkness of your living room, unable to shake the feeling of being lost.

your door creaked open. it was always slightly ajar when junho stayed over. he didn’t hear you approach, still caught in his thoughts.

“hey,” you murmured, unsure of what had happened, or what to do. he looked up, startled by the sound of your voice—he hadn’t expected you to be awake. “it’s just me. it’s okay,” you reassured him, stepping closer, your voice softer this time. junho’s tears wouldn’t stop, so you closed the distance, sitting beside him on the couch. your hand hovered near his shoulder, unsure if he wanted to be touched.

“i’m so sorry,” his voice cracked, barely above a whisper. your hand finally found his shoulder, soft and reassuring. his body was burning hot, but you could feel the tension in him. your thumb traced small circles on his shoulder, trying to ground him.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he repeated, almost uncontrollably.

“you’re okay, junho,” you said softly, your hand moving to his forearm. you looked at him, and in that moment, he seemed so small, vulnerable. “you’re here. you’re safe.”

he couldn’t respond, his breath uneven, his sobs filling the space between you. you hesitated, then wrapped your arms around him, pulling him as close as you could. his hands trembled as they found your back, holding you as tightly as he could. his face buried in the crook of your neck, and you could feel the hot tears on your skin. you brushed a hand over his back.

“i’m here. we’re fine,” you whispered.

“i couldn’t save you,” his voice cracked, the words nearly breaking him. your hand moved to his bare shoulder, hot and slick with sweat.

“i’m okay,” you whispered again, tracing small, invisible patterns on his skin. his grip tightened around you, but only slightly. you could feel his breath growing less shaky, his body still trembling against yours.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes red and bloodshot, his face inches from yours.

“i was a guard. the one who shot you… they were going to take you away,” he said quickly, his voice shaking with guilt. you reached up, brushing away a tear with your thumb. you nodded, your gaze soft, not sure if he had finished. “i’m sorry,” he whispered again, his eyes filled with raw guilt. “i just want to keep you safe.”

“i’m safe, junho,” you reassured him, your voice soft but steady. “i’m with you.” after a few minutes, his grip loosened around you just enough so his arms weren’t so tight, but he kept his hand resting on your lower back. your right hand still cupped his cheek, and your left lay on his forearm, just holding him.

the tension shifted. his breath was still uneven, but now it was because of the closeness, not the panic. you studied his face, noticing small things you hadn’t before—the curve of his jaw, the little frown between his eyebrows. your lips parted, but you forced yourself to hold back from saying anything or doing anything. how to make things better, how to make him feel whole again. but you knew you couldn’t rush it. junho caught the way your breath hitched for a moment, and he opened his eyes, meeting yours immediately.

the rawness was still there in his eyes, and you could feel the air between you thickening, the quietness between you didn’t feel uncomfortable—it felt like a moment of shared understanding, of silently leaning into each other without needing words.

you murmured, just above a whisper, “not now.”

junho nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “i know.” he shifted slightly, his hand finding your waist, pulling you closer. you could feel the warmth of his skin against yours, his lips parting as if he wanted to speak, but the words didn’t come.

he stayed silent for a few minutes, just looking at you, his gaze searching, as if trying to read your mind. finally, he spoke.

“i don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice calm, steady, but full of something deeper.

you were caught off guard. your eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, you wanted more—you wanted to say so much more—but instead, you whispered back, “i don’t want to either.” junho let out a slow breath. it wasn’t a relieved exhale, though. it was heavier, like the next words he was about to say were monumental.

“just let me then,” he said softly.

you didn’t need to ask what he meant. you both knew. you had always been afraid of losing each other, but for now, in this moment, maybe it was worth it. you didn’t say anything, your hand leaving his cheek to find his wrist. your fingers brushed against the hand that had reached for your cheek, and his eyes searched yours for hesitation. but there was none.

so he leaned in, just enough to test the waters, to see if you would pull away. but you didn’t. you wanted him just as much.

his lips brushed against yours, soft at first, before deepening, the kiss slow and filled with the tension that had been building for so long. when he pulled back his forehead rested against yours. there was a quiet reassurance in the way he held you—like he wasn’t going anywhere, like he wasn’t going to pull away.

“junho..” you whispered, his name leaving your lips like it was something forbidden now, like it was something new. the way you said it was raw, vulnerable, full of desire.

“i’m so afraid of having you this close,” he admitted in the most vulnerable way. his grip didn’t lose, afraid you might slip away.

the silence lingered for a bit more before your lips found his again, this time urgent. the kiss wasn’t slow anymore—it was a desperate need to feel the warmth of each other, to erase the distance between you both. his hands gripped your hair, pulling you closer, his lips moving urgently against yours. you kissed him back, feeling the same heat rush through you. his breath quickened, matching the rhythm of your frantic kisses. he pulled you onto his lap, your legs straddling him, and his hands found your thighs, holding you tighter.

“god, y/n,” he said, his voice rough, between desperate kisses. you only hummed in response, not able to speak, wanting more, feeling the ache of needing him this close.

you held onto him firmer now, your hands finding his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palms. he leaned back, looking at you with wild eyes. he couldn’t hold back now, but he broke the silence first.

“i want this,” he whispered, breath shaky. your own breath hitched, but you calmed yourself a bit before speaking.

“i want you,” he continued, his hands on your thighs, pressing you closer, as if trying to meld into you. but you also knew you didn’t want to go too far right now, not after the nightmare, not in this state.

“but not like this,” he said softly, looking at you. “not when i’m feeling too much.” the memory of the nightmare still lingered, and you could feel it. you nodded, his grip tightening slightly, not wanting to let you go.

“i don’t want to rush,” you said, your fingers gently tracing the scar on his shoulder. “but i don’t want to be afraid anymore,” you admitted, your voice raw with emotion. he nodded slowly, holding you closer. “me neither.”

you kissed him again, this time a softer kiss, full of reassurance. before you knew it, you were lying on the couch, junho’s hand resting on your cheek, facing you. as his breath slowed, you felt the exhaustion of everything that had happened. slowly, your body relaxed, and junho’s grip loosened, both of you sinking into the comfort of being together.

[missbellie]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sticky, like chewing gum- Kang Sae-Byeok

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

pair: Sae Beok×F!Reader

context: She's your clingy best friend.

warning: none.

words: 3,4k

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was 3:30 in the afternoon, and the sun was shining all over Seoul. You adjusted the woven bag on your shoulder and rang the doorbell of house 067, your best friend's house. A tall lady with medium-length dark brown hair answers the door with her friendly smile. "Min-young, darling! Come in, come in..." You greet the lady with a small "Hi" and a nod, entering the house that was already quite familiar to you. As soon as you stepped into the room, a five-foot tall figure hugged your legs, making you almost lose your balance."Min-young! Did you come here to play board games with me?" The child asks, with a wide smile. You let out a laugh, and bend down to the boy's level, ruffling his soft hair. "Well... Not today, Cheol. Today I'm going out with your annoying sister" The child lets out a laugh, fixing his hair "Don't let Sae hear this..." Cheol whispered, placing his index finger in front of his small lips.

"Don't let me hear what?" You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Sae standing there with one eyebrow raised and both hands in her coat pocket. "None of your business," you replied, standing up and crossing your arms. "You're in my house, I have a right to know," Sae says, pressing a finger to your waist, and you instinctively take a step to the side. "She's in my house, miss. And I say you have nothing to do with what she and your brother say." Mrs. Soo-yeon says, walking past Sae and giving her a peck on the back of the neck, and winking at me, heading towards the kitchen. "You're stealing from my family, you thief" "Shut up, you love me."

You say, hugging Sae's neck, and kissing her temple. Sae rolls her eyes, and starts pressing her fingers into your waist. "Are you sure? I think you're crazy." Your laughter echoes through the entrance hall "Stop! Stop... Let's get going before the park gets full of children" Sae sighs, and picks up her house keys. "Are you guys coming back for dinner?" Sae's mother asks, flashing an enthusiastic smile. "Of course!" You answer, opening the front door. Mrs. Soo-yeon smiles and Sae rolls her eyes, pushing me out of the house. "See you later mom, see you later Cheol! Be good!" The little boy smiles, nodding his head and goes back to writing and goes back to the couch, watching TV.

When you arrived at the park, you noticed that Sae was quieter than usual. You placed your bag on the fresh grass of the park and stood face to face with the girl. "Hey... What happened? You're quieter than usual" Her tone is one of concern and curiosity. The girl's gaze meets yours, and she presses her lips into a thin line. "You didn't hug me properly today..." The girl murmurs, and looks down at the grass, biting your inner cheek. You let out a laugh, which made Sae glare at you, but with a slight blush on her cheeks. You sighed and hugged the girl's neck, smelling her hair.Sae wrapped her arms around your waist, and lifted you off the ground, making you let out a loud, surprised laugh.As your cheek was attacked with quick kisses from Sae, you felt a comforting warmth grow in your body, and another specific warmth on your cheeks.

"Okay, okay clingy girl...Put me down, please!" Sae sighed, and set you down on the ground, and you adjusted your clothes. The rest of your afternoon was spent with Sae sitting on the grass, and you with your head in her lap. Lots of affection and forehead kisses were certainly present that afternoon.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This one is so small, I lost the original I had written, I had to rewrite everything again and Sunday is certainly not a good day for me to write

But that's it babies, hope you liked it

Xoxo!

[magicalbuttertarts]

Okay so picture it. Papi has been with reader for about six months. He is finally meeting the three most important people in her life. Including her best friend's six year old son whom reader considers her nephew. They take him to the carnival and reader falls in love with him as he takes her nephew on all the rides making her nephew at the end of the day asking Papi 'Are you going to be my uncle?!' and Papi says something along the lines of 'One day if your Aunt Y/N allows me to love her forever.'

WWE Masterlist

Fluff Prompt List

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: none

WC: 789

Requested by @terrortwinunicorn

©️magicalbuttertarts 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

"I am so happy you could come Luis." I said my boyfriend of six months.

He travels a lot, and he now has a bit of a time off, which I sadly was not expecting as I made plans to take care of my best friend's son.

"I am more than happy too sweetheart." He said to me as he placed his hand on my knee and gave it a squeeze as he drove.

By the time we got to my best friends house, her and her son were waiting outside.

I could see the excitement on little Mikey's face, as he was clutching the straps of his backpack, ready for a day at the carnival.

As Luis and I got out of the truck, I saw the suprised look come over Becca's face as she saw Luis for the first time, in person that is.

Becca has seen him in photos and on TV, always saying how tell he looked on TV.

She hid her shock at how tall he is actually is as I introduced the two of them.

Her husband came out of the house, excited to finally meet the man who I have been seeing for six months, but also to meet one of his favourite wrestlers.

"We have to go out to dinner soon." Craig insisted, wanting to know Luis a bit more.

"Yes, we can make plans later, but now, it is time to hit the road. Don't want to miss out on anything at the carnival do we?" I asked as I kneeled down to Mikey's eye level, who shook his head no.

I grabbed Mikey's hand, as the three of us walked back to the truck, Luis helping him in.

◇

We have been here for hours, and I just watched the Luis and Mikey just get along. Luis took Mikey on almost all the rides.

Helped him win at some of the carnival games, so much so that we are now walking around with a giant, green giraffe, which Mikey insisted on carrying it around, but it was taller than he was.

"Hey little man, why don't I carry that just for a little while. Don't want it to get dirty, now do we?" Luis suggested.

"Okay." Mikey agreed as he noticed his new toy was dragging along in the dirt.

The afternoon turned to evening and I knew it was time for us to leave as the sun was starting to set.

"One more ride, please?" Mikey begged me, but I coupd tell how tired he was.

"One more, and then we head home." I said as I sat down on a bench in front of the carousel.

"How about your Aunt sits this one out, and I take you on the carousel. I'll even let you pick which one." Luis said as he looked at Mikey and then me.

"Okay." Mikey tiredly said, even though he was still excited.

I mouthed thank you to Luis, and he just blew me a kiss.

I watched as Luis held Mikey's hand, my heart fluttering just a little at the scene.

I already knew I was falling in love with Luis, but today just sealed the deal for me, and that is saying something as I do not love easily, but Luis, he made it easy to love him.

Damian Priest's POV

Mikey and I waved to her as the ride went around.

"Luis?"

"Yes little man?" I looked over at him.

"Are you going to be my uncle?"

As we went around once more, I saw her sitting there, holding on to that big green giraffe, waving and smiling at us.

"One day, if you Aunt will have me." I told him honestly, which seemed to appease him for now.

As the ride ended, I helped him off the horse.

"If you get married, can I be in the wedding?"

I knew from a previous conversation with her, that Mikey was upset he wasn't at his parents wedding, even though he wasn't born yet.

"Yes, and you can help me plan the proposal, but we have to keep that a secret between us, until I ask your mom and dad help with that as well."

A huge smile came over his face and I could tell he was going to get excited, and she will ask him why he is going so excited.

"Remember it is a secret until I tell your parents okay? Don't want your aunt to know just yet, okay?"

"Okay." Mikey said as he placed his index finger over his mouth, before placing his hand back in mine, as we walked over to his Aunt, with images of her walking down the aisle flashing through my mind.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @madhatterbri @terrortwinunicorn @blackwingedmisanthrope @sunshinevirus

[daylighted]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ˗ˏˋ 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟔𝟕.ᐟ ˎˊ˗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ───── SEASON ONE, ───── ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ───────── PART TWO ─────────

────────────────────────────────────────────

summary. it's the first football game of the season, and all rules are off under the hot stadium lights.

ㅤword count ! ㅤㅤ 2.2k ㅤㅤ content warnings ! ㅤㅤ sports related injury. probably incorrect football terms & descriptions, sorry dad! ㅤㅤ track the season !

stanford was not known for playing football. it was home of the academically inclined, full of students stuffed to the brim with potential, and all of the means to utilize it. that didn't mean that when talent came around, they didn't utilize it. college football was still college football, and if there was one thing that people at home loved to watch, it was a game every afternoon at the start of their weekend.

dean wasn't a starter for the team, just as he'd expected. taylor was, though, which was an interesting bit of information to be dropped on him when he eventually did make it home from the bonfire. you'll never fuckin' believe it, he'd said, and then proceeded to ramble on about cardinal football stats like it was all he knew. dean guessed that taylor was not going to do well on their upcoming pop quiz in history 101, but by god, could he name every stanford quarterback in the last ten years and their numbers.

starter or not, he managed to gather himself quite a few looks around campus just from wearing the jersey, or his letterman. 67 printed in white on the back, a gigantic 'S' on the front breastpocket. hard to miss, which wasn't necessarily something that dean wanted to be. in his head, he already stuck out like a sore thumb.

the energy leading up to that saturday afternoon was electric. the cardinal team spent hours on the green and in the locker rooms, hype building like static the closer they got to the first game of the season. it was hard not to get caught up in it, even if dean wasn't going to get to play that day.

you were there, too. he'd started to notice you more and more. you were radiant as you cheered, your smile bright enough to light the whole stadium in gold. of course, dean watched as much as he could, even if it got him a football to the temple more than a few times.

"eyes over here, dean," taylor shouts, and seconds later, the fourth football to hit him knocks square into his shoulder. "see? easy catch, n' you're distracted by some ass."

dean lets out a scoff loud enough to be heard over the whistles and the faint hum of music from the cheerleaders' stereo. "i'm not staring at their asses."

"i am," taylor says with a shrug of his shoulders, head on a swivel as he turns it to stare at the girls on the sidelines. he ogles more than dean did, and didn't do much in terms of keeping it lowkey. "goddamn, i am." dean scoops up the football and hurls it at him, striking true in his forehead. payback. "hey!"

"eyes over here," dean mocks taylor's earlier shrug, his lips tugging into a wide grin. "hell, you're the one who actually gets to play today. pay attention."

taylor picks up the football, patting it between his palms. "all i gotta do is be big and knock people over. the hell do i have to pay attention to?"

coach greene's whistle blows more sharply. "king! get your ass over here or i'm throwin' you off the team."

dean shoots taylor another brutal smile as he slinks away, tail tucked between his legs.

he's pathetic. he really is. because the moment he gets a second to himself, dean's eyes drift over in your direction, and there you are, already watching him. he shoots you a two finger wave as you lift your water bottle to your lips. even from the distance, he can see the way your eyebrows lift in amusement.

dangerous, dangerous.

his first day on the job and he's already slacking off, making some excuse up in his head that he needs water. yeah, that's why he was walking over to the bench holding the carrying case of water bottles. not because you perched beside it.

"already in trouble, i see," are the first words out of your mouth, holding the water bottle out for him with an extended hand, "what ever are we going to do with you, 67?"

dean takes the water bottle from your nimble fingers, waterfalling some of it into his open mouth. his head cocks to the side as he thinks, popping the top back onto the nozzle. "probably bench me, i'd imagine."

"isn't that already what's happening?"

"touché."

up close, your smile is even more dazzling. dean wants to bottle up your laughter and keep it in his pocket to steel the nerves sparking to life in his veins.

he wondered if his dad was home. wondered if he'd heard about the game that night, knowing he wouldn't show up for him, but maybe he'd think about him. wish him luck. all highly unlikely events, but he wished more than anything that he didn't feel so alone out in this strange new part of the world, that the dreams he worked his ass off for didn't come with the side effect of isolation.

dean clears his throat, running a hand through the already sweat-mussed strands atop his head. "better leave you to look pretty and do your thing," he says on a sigh, "would hate to get on your coach's bad side as much as i am on greene's."

your hand waves dismissively, slotting the water bottle back into the case next to you. as you straighten, your ponytail swings back and forth, something small but enough to make dean's smile slip into one that was more genuine. "kelsey's nice, don't worry."

"right." his eyes drift over to your coach, who somehow seems to be more trigger happy with her whistle than coach greene was. "i'll take your word."

dean turns to leave, his hand clutching tightly to the helmet he held between his fingers. "wait!"

he turns over his shoulder, and that glimmering smile of yours is caught between your teeth, almost shy now, compared to the usual confidence you wore like an accessory.

"good luck tonight, 67."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ────

high school football had nothing on college football. the crowd was a loud buzz in his ears, the smell of grass and sweat thick in dean's nose. it was exhilarating, knowing how many people were watching, how many of them were tuned in to watch the same thing that he was, that he could participate in, if he got so lucky.

so far, the starting quarterback, wyatt, was doing pretty well on his own. stanford was 7-13 right now, losing by a touchdown and the extra point, and about to enter the fourth and final quarter.

dean really didn't want to lose. it was the first game of the season; what precedent would it set if they lost it, and he was incapable of doing something to help it?

he was restless on the bench, pacing the sidelines, teeth grinding together every time a play fell through, or something was fumbled, or there was another godforsaken penalty called.

and he was fine with being restless, as long as they won, because that just meant that the anticipation of everything was grating on him as much as it was the people in the stands. he chews on his mouthguard between his teeth, unable to keep from stressing if he didn't have something to gnaw on.

he was fine, completely fine ─ until cameron wyatt gets taken down to the ground by a berkeley lineman, and his leg bends the complete wrong way backwards as he calls. it's too loud in the stadium to hear it, but dean can imagine the crack in his head, the sound of it echoing around in his skull, and it's all he can do to not wince.

wyatt doesn't get up. king's hovering over him, then he's kneeling, and the refs and officials gather around him like he's a spectacle and not a college junior with a broken leg.

dean watches with bated breath, knowing that wyatt was probably out for the rest of the season. he was holding his ground on the field, worked well with the team ─ what the hell was this supposed to mean for the rest of the season? dean didn't want to think about it. his stomach was turning at the sight of the injury altogether. it was different, when people got hurt, compared to seeing monsters be brutalized. made it more real, more sickening─

"winchester!" coach greene's rasping shout echoes along the sidelines, snapping dean out of his temporary stupor. he jogs over to the shorter coach, stood to attention. "you're in."

two words that nearly stop dean dead in his tracks. "what?"

"you're in. you're the fill-in quarterback," coach greene snaps, waving the papers clutched in his hand flippantly, "get your goddamn head in the game before i snap your leg too, and get the hell on the field."

this... was not supposed to happen. dean had made peace with the fact that his underclassmen days were going to be spent benchwarming, but this made it too real, almost. still, he walks out onto the field and knows there's thousands of eyes on him, thousands, and tries not to balk at it.

there was only a minute and a half left of the game. one. ninety seconds for him to turn this game on its head and win it for them. luckily, he'd been watching pretty closely, was identifying the weaknesses in the other team and how to go about them.

they were second and goal, a manner of inches from the endzone. touchdown would tie the game. touchdown and a point from winning it. wyatt was being wheeled off of the field on a gurney just as dean was getting into position ─ wyatt's position. dean felt sick as fuck.

"can you hear me, winchester?" the comm radio in his helmet crackles to life, and dean manages to rein in the way he wants to jump at the sound of it. "red 32. that's the play i wanna see. make it happen and make it good."

dean glances at his wrist, the codes for the team's plays scrawled quickly onto a slip of paper in his wristband. a pass play.

it won't work. dean knows it won't work, because it hasn't worked any of the times that greene's called it. it was the same play, too, that had wyatt's leg snapped. too long of a hesitation and he'd be taken too the ground, and they'd lose the game.

dean gets into position, aware of the ticking clock, his heart pounding in his chest and drowning out everything else. the roaring crowd, the rustling of cleats in grass, the coach's voice echoing in his head ─ all of it fading into oblivion.

"gold 67," dean shouts, his voice much more clear out loud than he'd thought it be. "gold 67, set─"

it's a rush of adrenaline. it's caffeine straight to his brain, making him jittery everywhere but in his hands, like he can't stand still. the way the team falls into place with his words. in his head, coach greene is shouting, so loud that through the muffled haze of his helmet, dean can hear it there, too, and not just echoing around his helmet.

"hike!"

the linemen launch into action, pushing back at the other linemen determined to break through and snap one of dean's legs, or take him to the ground. they're out for blood, but dean was out for justice. no one hurt one of his teammates and got away with it. they were all the family he had, now, since he knew that his dad wasn't in the crowd, and so sam wasn't either.

he takes a couple of steps backwards, arm raised to launch the ball to a teammate that wasn't open, prompting more than one of berkeley's players heads to snap and redirect their attention.

there, straight down the center, like dean anticipated, is a clear break.

he tucks the ball into his elbow and takes off. here, a brush of an arm against his that he slips out of, there, the shuffling of feet determined to end his short trek to the endzone getting louder as he squeezes through the chaos─

and emerges victorious.

he's never heard something louder in his life, the way the stanford side of the stadium erupts into cheers. his chest is tight with adrenaline, slowly turning around and around as he sees it. so many people they look like red painted ants, their fists raised in pride and joy, all because of him.

dean could get drunk off of this. he wasn't certain that he already was. a breathless laugh falls out of his mouth, and then he's fully laughing, beaming. he doesn't even feel the air whoosh out of his lungs when taylor slings his arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

"fuckin' a, winchester!" he shouts into dean's ear, and god, does it feel good to be loved, to be needed, wanted.

there's only a few seconds of the game left, just enough to go for that extra point that dean knows from earlier practices that stinson could make. game won.

if only his dad could have seen him now, dean thinks, as his teammates shove him and slap their hands across his back and jostle him around by the helmet, just to see how little dean needed him anymore.

special features !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤget to know WINCHESTER ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤget to know READER ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsend in FANMAIL ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwanna know when a new episode drops ? join the WATCHLIST !

────────────────────────────────────────────

watchlist !

@whyyouegg @sthefferrete @cevansbaby-dove @titsout4jackles @cosmicanakin @bluestrd @ultravi0lence14 @mccartneyqp @poughkeepsie99 @depressionbarbie2023 @im-bili @ariasong11 @chevroletdean @angelblqde @ostaramoon @deansbite @lyarr24 @psyches-reid @reynas13 @momoewn @deanswidow @jasvtsc @figthoughts @beausling @frosttbitessam @aileenunfiltered @samslvrgirl @taeists @globetrotter28 @urfavpisces95 @rubyvhs

────────────────────────────────────────────

DAYLIGHTED © i do NOT give permission for my work or ideas to be used, rewritten, or reposted!

[sunny5656]

Something domestic to start of the Stolitz week (a day late but oh well)

Stolas was going about his day, people watching and sipping tea on the balcony, when something caught his attention and made him think of Blitz. He chuckled to himself and typed on his phone:

"Hi darling. Hope the work is going well. Saw something hilarious just now and thought of you. Wish you were here to laugh with me. Missing you. 💜"

Not a minute later his phone rang for an answer.

"Ooooo what was it??, mis u too Stols<3"

On the other end of that line, Blitz was smiling to himself and staring at the screen. He was on a mission, and Stolas was having a well deserved day off (not that he would have minded to join Blitz at work, but self care was also important.)

Stolas lowered his gaze to glance at the view once again, and eagerly texted back.

"Just saw a cat trying to jump on a bench and completely miss. Landed flat on its face. Made me think of you. 💜"

Blitz bursted out laughing at that, gaining a side eye from Moxxie, an amused look from Millie and an eye roll from Loona.

"LMAO I fuckin love u bitch<3 think of me lil more, be back home soon"

Stolas couldn't help the warm feeling that spread through his body at Blitz's text. He loved knowing that he could make his boyfriend laugh, and he felt a flutter in his chest at Blitz's casual declaration of love.

"Glad I could make you laugh. Can't wait till you get back home. I'll continue to think of you, darling. Always."

Later that afternoon Blitz returned home, but not before stopping by at the grocery store. He picked some snacks for the evening; cheese and hot sauce, two boba teas and then hunted for some rats at the alley in his usual way. As the apartment door slammed open, he was immediately welcomed with two long arms capturing him a thight embrace.

"Welcome home, my love. I missed you."

"Missed you too, baby." Blitz said softly, squeezing gently the owl's ass that was fortunately at his reach. Then he wiggled his eyebrows, and added.

"Got something fun for us to play with."

Stolas raised an eyebrow, a curious glint in all his four eyes as he drew back a bit to look at Blitz. He couldn't help but be intrigued by the suggestive tone in Blitz's voice, and wondered what exactly his love had in store for them today.

"Oh really?" he inquired, a soft smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "And what might that be, darling?"

Eagerly, Blitz wiggled away from the embrace and dug something out of his tote back, eyes glimmering with excitement.

"This game from the human world!!"

Stolas's eyes widened in surprise, a hint of amusement crossing his face. He didn't quite expect that kind of answer, but he was also rather curious and open-minded as always when it came to his dearest Blitz.

"A game, you say?" He pondered, a faint smile forming on his lips. "How... unexpected. And what is this game about, then?"

"Dunno, really. Something about space I suppose, since there's these pictures on the back about some dude just flying around galaxies and shit. Pretty neat, huh?"

Stolas felt his heart melt at the obvious heartfelt thought behind Blitz's seemingly silly little idea to steal this game for him. He so very much missed his stars.

"Oh, Blitz." He breathed out, "And... how does one play it?"

"I've no fucking idea but I sooooo wanna figure it out!" Blitz sing-sang, and started to put the groceries aside.

"So sweet of you to think of me this way, dearest. Thank you." Stolas said, leaning down to grant a brief kiss on the imp's forehead.

"Yeah, yeah. You're the sweet one here." Blitz tried to brush it off, despite of how soft he had already gotten to anything Stolas did. "Aaanyhoo, here's a boba tea for you, hope you like it. Didn't really know which flavor you like the best so... got these two so you can decide which one you want. I'll take the other."

"Thank you, darling. You know you spoil me far too much," Stolas said, blush rising to his cheeks. He examined the etiquettes on the cups, his face scrunching as he read the various flavor names.

"Hmm... I've never had cherry blossom tea before. But the peach one sounds quite good as well... I'll go with that one."

"Peachy."

Blitz looked at his lover, eyes shining with warmth that had been lately there all the time when he looked at or even thought about Stolas.

"What?" The owl asked, lifting a hand to his cheek bashfully as he noticed how Blitz was staring. "Is there something on my face?"

"Beautifullness." Blitz simply answered.

Stolas felt his heart skipping a beat at Blitz's compliment. He was still not sure how to react to such genuine and loving words, and he found himself at a momentary speechless every time.

"You... you flatter me, darling," he said softly, averting his gaze for a moment.

"Obviously." Blitz sent a wink the bird's way. "Soooo...which one first: game or bath?"

Stolas thought for a moment, considering his options.

"Hmm... perhaps we could start with the game and then move on to the bath? It would be a nice way to wash off the day, and I think the game might get us all hot and sweaty, anyway."

He gave Blitz a teasing grin, a mischievous glint in his ruby eyes.

Blitz grinned back, wiggling his eyebrows.

"They always do, don't they~?"

[lucy90712]

We need angsty Kenan Yildiz storys!!

"Babe are you going to my match later?" Kenan asked 

"No I'm sorry I can't make it I have work until 5 then I'm going to the library to finish that group project that's due next week" I explained 

"You never come to my matches anymore" Kenan whined 

"I know and I'm sorry but after this project is done I should be able to come to a few more as long as they are after my shift" I said 

"I just miss having you there" he said clearly upset with me 

~~~~~~~~~~

"Kenan can you swing by the store on your way home we need a few things and I won't have time between classes and work to go" I said 

"Are you sure you don't have time I'm really busy today" he said 

"I mean I don't really have time" I said 

"I'll find a way to repay you if you can find a way to make it to the store" he said 

"I guess I can I'll have to take all the stuff to work though" I said 

"That works see you later love" he said running out the door 

~~~~~~~~~~

"What is it babe I've got training" Kenan said through the phone when he finally picked up

"Can you drive me to campus after you finish training my car won't start and I've already missed one class but I can't miss this afternoon as I have an exam" I said still stressed about the situation 

"Can't you call an Uber or get the bus?" He asked 

"The buses don't run from here you know that or I wouldn't have a car and an Uber is a lot of money we live quite far from campus" I said

"I'll send you the money whatever it is but I've got to go" he said hanging up 

~~~~~~~~~~

The tension between me and Kenan has been building up for weeks if not months. He's had a long and hard summer with losing in the euros with turkey and then pre season at Juventus and I've been as busy as ever. I wasn't able to go to much of the euros in fact I was only there for two days to watch one game as that's all I could afford in terms of the cost of going and losing out on money by not working. My parents are not well off at all so I have to pay every cent towards my education and my life in general so I have to work hard to survive. I'm lucky that I love with Kenan now but still I help him pay the bills as I refuse to live there for free as that wasn't how I was raised. 

I'll admit that I'm not home much but that's because when I'm not in classes I'm either studying in the library or working as that's the only way I'm going to get anywhere in life. My work ethic has been instilled in me since I was a child and I pride myself on how hard I work even if it means I'm not home much. This is Kenan's biggest problem with me as he wants me to be home when he gets home and to come to his matches but I can't and he knows why but still sometimes he gets mad at me. Kenan's schedule isn't anywhere near as packed as mine but still I find myself doing a lot for him which is my biggest grievance with him. It just feels like he's never willing to help me out even in the slightest it just seems to always inconvenience him in some way. That bugs me as I don't ask for much but sometimes I just need some support and he never seems to offer it. 

Today has been a particularly stressful day I left before the sun had fully risen and came back after it had gone down. I've had exams most of the day and then a closing shift at the store I work at so it's been a long day. My long day meant I missed Kenan's champions league game which he really wanted me to go to but I did tell him I wouldn't be able to make it. He was supposed to pick up a package before his game and take my car to get fixed but when I get back my car was still in the driveway and there was no package either instead Kenan was just laying on the sofa on his phone. 

"Where have you been?" Kenan asked 

"At school and at work like I said I would be why is my car still in the drive and where is that package?" I asked 

"I got busy so I didn't have time before the match" he said 

"Damn it Kenan can't you do anything to help me out" I yelled finally letting the tension boil over 

"Well your never here so what am I even doing helping you if never get to see you the boys keep asking me if we've broken up as you are never around" he yelled back 

"Look I'm sorry I can't be there every match but my education is important to me and to be able to continue with that I have to work you know my parents can't help me so I'm on my own I'm trying my best and if that's not good enough for you then maybe I'm not good enough for you" I said 

"Well maybe you aren't good enough" he snapped 

"You have to be kidding me Kenan you'd be a mess without me even with everything I have going on I still do so much for you while you'd barely help hold me up if I was falling" I said 

"Then maybe we aren't right for each other I don't need a girlfriend who needs me to hold her hand through everything" he said

"Fine then I'll go" I said 

I didn't know where I was going but I knew I needed to go so I grabbed my keys and slammed the door on my way out. It was dark and I couldn't see much of what was around me but I know the area well enough to roughly where I'm going. I just kept walking taking lefts and rights where I felt like it which is when I noticed someone walking behind me which isn't abnormal but my instinct told me that something wasn't right. To be sure I took a few quick turns only to see the guy still behind me but that could just be a coincidence so then I sped up hoping that would help me lose him but he sped up too. 

That's when I started jogging but that didn't help either which is when the panic sets in and I don't know what to do. The first thing that comes to my mind is to call Kenan but after our argument I don't know if he'll care enough to answer or come help me. I thought about my other options but none of them were going to help me or get to me in time so I had to swallow my pride call Kenan.

Please pick up. Pick up. Come on Kenan for once please just help me. 

"What y/n" he answered 

"I'm being followed I've tried to lose the guy but he's still following me now I'm running but he's running after me please Kenan help me" I said panicking 

"Where are you?" He asked 

"I'll send you my location" I said 

"I'll be there as soon as I can just keep going" he said 

I did exactly as he told me and kept running until I saw a car speeding in my direction which I knew instantly was Kenan. He must've seen me as he stopped the car just in front of me and hopped out. I ran straight towards him and he stopped me by pulling me into a hug and holding me tightly to his chest while I caught my breath. He yelled at the guy who was following me but I didn't hear a word he said I was still panicking and trying to calm down. 

"It's ok you're ok I'm here now" he said 

"Thank you for saving me I was so scared" I said 

"I would never leave you to be hurt by anyone else and I'm sorry for our fight earlier you're right I know you work hard and I could do more to help you" he apologised 

"I'm sorry for what I said too I know I should support you more than I do but even when I'm not at matches I'm thinking about you and the team" I said 

"I have an idea that might make things better and I know you'll try and fight me on it but I think it will make both of our lives so much better" he said 

"What is it?" I asked 

"You quit your job and I'll pay for your tuition and you don't have to give me anything towards the bills that way you can focus on school entirely and you'll have more time to come to some of my games" he suggested 

"Actually if you are really serious and you wouldn't mind then I'm happy to go along with that plan" I said 

"Then it's sorted and I'm sorry I wish things didn't have to get to this point for us to come up with a solution but I'm happy you're ok" he said 

He kissed me then we got in the car and went back home where Kenan helped me write my resignation email for my job and he got me a ticket for their next home game. Weirdly I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders straight away knowing I'd get to see Kenan more and I wouldn't have to stretch myself so thin that I could break at any point. 

[whorekneecentral]

Miss Me, Miss Me

Ruben Dias x Stones!Fem!Reader

Warnings: fwb!ruben, jack and reader are besties, alcohol and the consumption of, kyle is always annoying her, teasing, a strip tease according to reader, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, fingering, orgasm denial, the use of 'whore' in a sexual/degrading context, penetrative sex (P in V ), big brother john is not having it.

Word Count: 2,952

Author's Note: this one is written solely for my pookie, that's also why ruben is so early on in this series lmao - all of these things are shit she'd eat up so pooks and everyone else, please enjoy :)

merry smutmas series

--

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess. 

Will they or won't they was the tagline for your relationship - if you could even call it that- with Ruben.

You had recently moved to Manchester to be closer to your older brother and your niece and nephew. You had gone to every home game you could and over the course of the season, you fell into a bit of a pattern with the Portuguese defender.

It was innocent enough at first, you two were friends who occasionally hooked up to relieve whatever stress you were having but over the years, it turned into more. Feelings got involved and it got messy so because of that, and for your brother's sake - despite him not knowing, you pulled away from Ruben.

It was never your intention to make things messy.

You hadn't seen Ruben face to face in weeks, if not months. You had still gone to games but you simply went for your brother and then left afterwards, not hanging around too long.

Ruben had a hold over you; you knew if you hung around him too long, you'd just end up in his bed again. That was the last thing you wanted.

Today was unavoidable though.

John was hosting his annual Christmas party at his place; old friends, a few of the boys from his time at Barnsley as well as his teammates and their families from Man City filled his house.

You were somehow, always on kid duty. You were in the room with a bunch of kids; Kevin's, John's, Phil's, Ederson's and a few others that you had no idea who they belonged to.

"Settle down," you tell them, trying to get them off the sugar rush to watch a movie. You tried to rock your nephew in one arm while you switched on the tv, the kids shouting 400 different movie titles all at once.

You huffed and your nephew began to cry just as you tried to ask which one they really wanted to watch but someone opened the door. Jack smiles at you, taking the remote from you when he sees how flustered you are.

He worked a miracle, getting them to quiet down enough for you to calm the baby and to be able to put on a movie for them. You sighed, sitting on the bean bag with the baby as the kids watched Finding Nemo.

Jack sits next to you, rubbing the baby's hand. "I heard the noise, figured I'd come check before they killed you," he whispered, making you chuckle.

"You're a lifesaver, Jack, really. You're good with them too, you and Sasha ever think of.."

"No," he laughed, shaking his head. "I mean, at least not yet."

You nod, smiling. "You'd be wonderful parents.. but you should go join the party, I'm okay in here."

"You're sure?" He gets up and you nod. "Go on, I'll come out in a bit." Jack smiles, nodding before he walks out and closes the door behind him.

It was about an hour later that Finding Nemo ended and the kids went looking for their parents. Those with kids ended up heading out, saying their goodnights before the party actually picks up.

You make your way into the kitchen to find Jack looking for something. "Missing something?" You asked, picking up a glass.

"Your brother said he had shot glasses somewhere?"

"Check the bottom cabinet, it should be in there. What are we drinking?" You asked, setting your empty glass back down.

"Whatever will get us drunk fast." He laughs and you smile, "you're just like me," you nudged his shoulder, reaching for the bottle of tequila on the counter.

Jack lines the empty shot glasses on the tray you found, letting you fill them up. The man picks one up before handing another one to you. "To.. the holidays!" He shrugs, tapping his glass to yours before you two down the shots, and two more rounds after that.

You send him on his way, the man dancing his way over to his girlfriend. You on the other hand, picked up the tray and made the rounds, offering shots to all of those who wanted them. Eventually, you find your way to the living room, the music playing in the background as some people danced and the others chatted.

"Pebbles!" Kyle shouts, his hand in the air to call you over. You roll your eyes, walking over to the group of men by the couch. "How many times have I told you not to call me that, walks?" You laughed.

Kyle puts an arm around your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "You're pebbles cause Johnny is Stones and you're the little one!"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Very original, Kyle. Anyone want a shot?" You offered, holding the tray out.

John takes one, passing another one to Ruben who you've yet to look at. Kyle grabs one for himself and you go to walk away but your brother grabs your arm, bringing you back. John's arm is over your shoulder now, pulling you into his side.

"Have one with us! You're grown up now, aren't you?" He teased, nudging you to take a shot with them. You and John were only a few years apart; he was 29 and you were 24.

You nod, picking up a shot glass. "Cheers!" Kyle shouts over the music, the 4 of you tapping your glasses together before downing the contents.

Some of the tequila ended up on your fingers during the toast, your finger instinctively ended up between your lips and you don't miss the feeling of Ruben's eyes on you. Looking up, your eyes meet his and you move your hand.

"Can I go now?" You asked your brother, and he nodded before kissing your temple. "You're free to go. Go eat something before you feel sick though."

"Should take your own advice, Stones." You tell him and he tosses you a glare. "Whatever, pebbles."

Kyle and John laugh at the use of the nickname and you flip them both off, laughing as you walk away.

The night turned out to be good, you ended up hanging out with Jack and Sasha for a bit before Kyle pulled you to dance with him. He was telling John he knows how to waltz, he just needed a good partner. You were confused as to what made you qualify as a good partner but you went along with it.

At this point, everyone had left and whoever was left, was drunk as fuck and on the verge of passing out.

You slowly make your way upstairs, you have just put away the leftovers and locked the front door for the night. You walked into your room for the night, unzipping your dress as you bent over to pull some pjs out of your bag.

The knob turns and then the door unlocked, someone steps in. "Hello, what the fuck? I'm changing-" you freeze when you turn around to see who it is.

Ruben stood by the door. "It's just me."

"Okay and?" You look at him, confused as to why he's in your room. "Just because it's you, doesn't mean that gives you a right to be in here."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love." He smiles at you and you resist the urge to roll your eyes when he says that.

"Fuck off, will you?" You turn away from the man, your back to him as you went to get changed for bed.

Ruben doesn't take no for an answer; in life and on the pitch. He walks over to you, "don't be like that, y/n. You know I miss you," his hand rests on your hip, pulling you to him.

It was so easy for him - your mind is screaming no but your body's betraying you, giving into him before you could stop yourself.

"You don't miss me, Ruben. Shut up." You whispered, the man lowered his lips to your neck. A trail of kisses from the base of your neck up to your jaw, you're certain there's red marks all over your neck from his beard scratching on you.

Your hand instinctively reaches for his face, your palm's warm against his skin; there your body goes, betraying you again.

"I miss you, I do," he whispers against your skin, his hand sliding between the two of you, from your hip to your back. The fact that your dress was unzipped gave him free rein, his fingers running along your spine, finally resting on the curve of your spine.

"Rubes-" you breathe, feeling him suck on the sensitive spot on your neck. "We can't."

He nods, "we can."

"John could walk in."

The thought made Ruben chuckle. Yes, it'd be a mess, it would get both of you in a lot of trouble but the fact that you, at your grown age, were scared of your older brother catching you with his friend, was funny to him.

"John's passed out drunk on the couch, sweetheart. No one's coming, it's just me and you."

You turn to face the man, Ruben's chest to yours; the first few buttons of his shirt undone, the black fabric tight on his arms and the sleeve were rolled up to his elbows. Was he always such a slut or did he only recently become one?

He's already pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders and you don't stop him, letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles.

Ruben's hands reach for your face, cupping your jaw. "C'mon baby, I miss you." He whispers into the quiet room, his lips ghosting over yours.

Hands wrapping around his wrists, "I miss you too." You admit, giving into him. You pull Ruben into you, kissing him.

It doesn't take long, the two of you stumbling back to the bed. Ruben ends up on top of you, your legs wrapped around him as he moves you to lay properly. He pulls away from your kiss and your wandering hands, earning him a pout.

"Why'd you stop?" You groaned, Ruben smiles at you whining as he stands, undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt before taking it off.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the man. "Mhm, all for me?" You raised your eyebrows, making him laugh.

"Everything's for you, baby. It always is." He tells you, dropping to his knees in front of you.

The words and his actions made your head spin, you were constantly swooning over the man and today was no exception.

Ruben's lips were soft, the faintest of kisses trailed up from your calf to your thigh and he let your leg hang over his shoulder as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Ruben drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy. 

"Please," you mumble, looking down at the man. Ruben smiles, "not in the mood for teasing, sweetheart?"

"Fuck you Ruben," you groaned, dropping back into the mattress when he pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy but his hand reaches up, pushing two fingers in your mouth. He didn’t have to tell you, your tongue laps over his fingers. 

“Taught you well,” he smiles, pulling his fingers away from your mouth. 

He gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 

“Rube, please.” Your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Ruben fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire. Everything about him made you want him, you couldn't explain the attraction.

It just made sense to you.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

Ruben knew you like the back of his hand, even with the time apart. Something didn't change and the way your hips buck, it's your way of saying you want more, who was Ruben not to give into you?

His fingers curl upwards once again and he glances up to see your head tossed back into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. 

Ruben pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness. 

"What the fuck?" You groaned, an arm over your face. If you looked at Ruben right now, you might kill him.

The clink of his belt gets your attention - maybe you'd finally get what you wanted.

Ruben scoots you back, getting on the bed, on top of you. He leans down, his lips over yours and you reach up, a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss; you can taste yourself on his lips. He lifts your leg, resting on your hip before he lines himself up with you.

The way the tip of his cock rubbed against you and the fact that you were already on the edge from before was enough to make you beg.

"Please, Ruben."

"Please what?" He looks down at you, smiling sweetly.

Your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. "Ruben," you whined, lifting your hips towards him. "Please, fuck- god just fuck me already."

Ruben smiles, "those words really shouldn't be in the same sentence, you know." He tells you, pushing into you. You moan, ignoring his words at the moment.

Your hand wraps around his bicep, your manicured nails digging into his skin. He didn't mind the pain, especially if it was your doing.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, Ruben's thrusts were slow and deep- you can feel him everywhere, his hands, his lips, his touch. Everything about Ruben was consuming; he knew that and he loved it.

In some sick way, he loved watching you fall in love with him all over again, seeing the effect he had on you.

Ruben pulls your legs back up to his hip. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder.

How you wished you could scream his name right now.

His hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit; matching the pace of his hips. Your head falls back into the pillows when he hits the spot he was looking for. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Ruben leans down, his lips next to your ear; “you have to be quiet, you don't want everyone to know what a whore you are, do you?”

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. He holds you, managing to flip you two over so that you're on top and his cock is still buried in you.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure.

“Ruben, god-” you mumble, your hand tangled in his dark hair as you bounced up and down.

"Not quite," he whispers, pulling you down to kiss along your neck. Ruben's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back. "Mhm I love you." He whispers into your shoulder.

You huff, "shut up, don't ruin this for me." Ruben laughs, "whatever you say, baby. I do."

"I'm so thirsty," you get off of him, yawning.

Ruben looks over at you, "you want another round?" You roll your eyes, "not what I meant, you freak."

You get up, pulling on his shirt and a pair of shorts. Ruben lays in bed, watching as you buttoned it up. "Don't look at me like that." You tell him and he laughs, "like what, love?"

"Like you want to fuck me."

"I just did," he smiles. You roll your eyes again, something you did often in his presence. "I'm going to get water," you tell him before heading down the stairs.

When your brother hears the creaking on the stairs, he sits up, rubbing his eyes before looking over in your direction. "Y/n?"

"Johnny?" You freeze, looking at him.

"Whose shirt is that?" He asks and you look down at the black button up. "Uh, mine."

John nods, dropping down onto the couch once again. You grab the bottle of water, walking back into the living room to toss the blanket over your brother. You lean down, kissing his head before turning to head back towards the stairs.

He reaches out from under the blanket, grabbing your hand to stop you. "You better get Ruben out of my house before I get up, or I'll kill him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you tell him and your brother lets go of your hand, a sly smile on his face. "Yeah, okay. Maybe you two should shut up next time, or don't do it in my house? Perhaps don't wear a shirt that reeks of his cologne."

"Shut up, go back to sleep," you push him back into the couch before walking away.

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

[ilypaigebuckets]

kate martin x competitive swimmer reader por favorrrrrrr

Someone Who Isn’t Me - K.M.

u cannot tell me i didn’t eat with the title right there it’s literally swim i feel like a genius. literally wrote half of this and went to finish it and i guess i forgot to save it bc it was all gone :(

pairing: reader x kate martin

plot: kate has a game the same day as your swim meet and can’t make it to watch you, which makes her feel like you need someone else who can make more time for you.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

you had woken up at 7 am sharp and had starting to get ready for your swim meet that afternoon. you were doing the 100 free and were pretty nervous for it. you tried to calm your nerves by playing some music and taking your time to get ready. you heard a ping on your phone and ignored it, trying to stay in the zone. you heard a second ping a while later and decided to see who was texting you. you looked down and smiled as you recognized the notification to be your girlfriend.

k ❤️

sent an image.

I’m so sad lovely 😔😭

you quickly typed in your password to see what the image was. turns out, it was an email from her coach to her team saying that her game’s start time would be postponed for 2 hours later.

y/n

awe :( i’ll miss you teddy bear

good luck at your game i love you!

you were going to miss kate and kate was going to miss you. it was hard when the two of you couldn’t make it to each others games and events. you knew it would be especially hard on kate, she had a tendency to overthink and think the worst of herself when she couldn’t show up for you.

on the court, kate was a mess. “kate!” her coach called to her, “whatever’s going on with you, i need it to stop. you need to focus on what’s on the court, you’re our glue.” kate nodded, absentmindedly and ran back to the court. in the end, iowa ended up losing 56-67. kate walked back to the locker room defeated. ‘great’ she thought ‘another reason this is the shittiest day ever.’

she got back to her apartment and saw you’d texted her again.

My love 💕

hi kate kat!! how was your game? do you wanna come over :)

kate smiled faintly at your message. you were so positive, even when plans didn’t turn out the way you two had expected.

Kate

i love you so much i’ll be over in 10 🤗🥰😘❤️

kate grabbed her backpack and packed some clothes and her toothbrush into it, she figured she’d spend the night at your place. you two had a tendency to have sleepovers a few times a week and she didn’t want to be alone tonight after this tough loss.

about 8 minutes later, you heard a knock at your door. you opened it and there you saw her. your beautiful girl standing there with a pout on her face. you grabbed her bag from her and stood on your toes so you could reach up to kiss her nose. you grabbed her hand and led her over to the couch.

“i missed you today baby!” you said to her as you sat down on the couch next to you. she groaned and pulled you onto her lap, wanting to be closer to you after a day apart.

“you aren’t close enough!!” kate whined as she hugged your body close to hers. “i was having such a hard day already and not seeing you just ruined it. i was starting to think that.. i don’t know maybe you need someone who can be there, who can show up for you. i feel terrible. god.” she buried her head into the crevice of your neck and inhaled your scent. “god y/n i was thinking maybe you need someone who isn’t me. but now i’m here and i can’t imagine not having you. we lost and i should be so upset about it, and i was, but it’s like now i’m with you and none of it matters anymore.”

you simply giggled and kissed kate soundly on her pink lips, tasting her chapstick as you did so. kate started to perk up and smiled too. her spirit seemed to brighten the more time she spent with you. she put her hands on your shoulders, shaking you, “how do you make me so happy, y/n? hm? how do you do that? tell me your secrets!”

in that moment you wanted to cry. you loved how you and kate could overcome seemingly anything, not letting a bad day come between you guys. “i hate seeing you upset, kate. you’re my person. i wish i could be around you all the time.”