#not kidding when i say i was deep in my feelings crying on the kitchen floor

[h3arts4harry]

- favourite girl -

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warnings: ANGST(resolved), sls, TW, self harm, anorexia, hospitals, sewerslide attempt -lmk if i forgot anything

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y/n is 17 and has really bad mental health issues, she started struggling with self harm and eventually disordered eating at 14 years old. it only got worse when her safety net, her brothers, left to move to LA.

-y/n pov-1:53am-

"just one more" i whisper, swiftly moving the blade across my wrist for the 6th time. "fuck.." i mumble as i stand off the floor. i look at myself in the mirror, staring at the girl infront of me. i cant help but feel sick with hate from what i see. my cheeks are swollen and red from crying, mascara smudged down them from the countless tears that have fallen. my eyes all ugly and puffy. i look down away from my face, down to my body. my monstrous body. how could i look so horrible all the time? how is it possible for someone to be so fucking hideous? my hand moves slowly over my stomach, i hate this. i hate what i see. i hate how i feel. i hate all of this. why do i have to feel like this? i divert my eyes away from one horror to another, the blood from the cuts, a beautiful crimson, dripping down my arm, creating a puddle on the floor. for a moment i just watch as it falls, rippling as it crashes to the floor. then it hits me, i cant leave a mess, they cant find out, im struggling again. "fuck fuck fuck" my heart pounds out of my chest as i fall to my knees, wiping the floor with toilet roll, flushing away the tissue. i carefully place band aids over the straight red lines, then wrapping my arm with a white bandage. i look at myself in the mirror once more wiping my cheeks with a deep sigh. i quickly hide the blade back into the back of my phone case before rolling my long sleeve shirt down, heading back to my bedroom.

-the next morning-11:47am-

i roll over with a groan as a bright light fills the room. "morning sweetie, theres a surprise downstairs for you, get dressed and come down" mum says as she opens my curtains then walking back out the door. i huff as i blindly move my hand searching for my phone, grabbing it and turning it on. the time reads 11:40am. i really have to fight myself to not fall back to sleep. i sit up wiping the sleep out of my face, groggily standing up and walking over to my chest of drawers grabbing out a red hoodie and baggy jeans throwing them on, messily tying up my hair in a loose bun, before walking downstairs.

i turn the corner into the kitchen, "so whats this surprise you said about" i ask with a yawn. my eyes snap open when i hear 3 familiar giggles. chris, nick, and matt were stood there with the biggest smiles that could always brighten my day no matter what. i immediately ran to them jumping into their arms, not have seen them for over 3 months. "hey kid" matt greets rubbing the top of my head, "h-how-when?" i struggle to speak through the shock, "we flew in last night, we knew your lazy ass wouldn't be up by earliest 11 so we got here a couple hours ago" nick says, pulling my into the hug tighter. "i-you- you said you couldn't fly back for another 2 months?" i step back, our hands still holding each others. "we managed to get everything done early and surprise our favourite girl" chris explains, his smile not once moving from his face. i step forward back into the hug again "i cant believe youre actually here, i- i missed you guys so much" i sniffle, a tear or two falling down my cheek. "are you okay kid?" "i-yea" i pull them in tighter "just really fucking missed you guys" "hey! language smalls" chris laughs poking at my ticklish sides, making me double over and step away giggling.

-12:29pm-

the four of us decided to go out for a drive, not having much to do in the house. "yo anyone else really feeling a mcdonalds right now?" chris asks turning to have the three of us in his view, matt and nick agree and matt pulls through the drive through. "hi can we get a double cheeseburger meal with a pepsi, and then- what did you want again nick?" chris looks to the older boy, "same as u works" "and another of the same please, and then- matt?" "ill get a chicken nugget meal with a pepsi please" matt says into the speaker box, "y/n what about you?" chris asks, "i-uh, im not that hungry, can i get just a water?" i fidget with my fingers, "are you sure? you haven't eaten yet today?" "im sure, im just feeling a bit sick" "mhm okay, and can i get a large water with ice please? yea that's all thank you" and with that chris sits down properly in his seat.

"so what you been up to angel?" nick asks from next to me, eating from his fries. "nothing much honestly" i shrug, turning from the window to face him. "really? its been almost 4 months and nothing interesting happened? sorry kid but i dont believe that for a second" matt says, looking at us in the back through his mirror. "i dont know what to tell you guys, i really haven't done anything" i look back out the window, biting my bottom lip. "hows school going? mum said youre grades are dropping again" nick tilts his head, attempting to get a glance of my face, i sigh and slump back against the seat. "smalls? whats going on with you?" chris turns fully, slightly leaning against the dashboard. "nothing going on im fine" i snap, bringing my legs up onto the seat and hiding my head behind them, along with the hood of my hoodie. the boys dont push further and just drive home.

pulling into the driveway, i quickly jump out and start heading straight for my room. "hey kid wait-" matt yells, running in behind me. "leave me alone" i huff as i keep walking, "smalls hold up" chris says, lightly grabbing my wrist. i wince in pain as i snatch my arm back, tears forming in my waterline "y/n?" nick whispers softly, "dont tell me you-" he cuts himself off, silently pleading that chris just grabbed me too tight. only nick knows about my struggles with self harm. i had promised nick that if i ever felt like i had to do it again that i would instead go to him. obviously i didn't. i dont respond, i just look down with guilt. "baby no-" he breaths out pulling me into a tight hug. "im sorry, im so sorry nick i swear i- im so sorry" i apologise between cries. chris and matt look at each other confused then back at us two. "nick? y/n? whats going on?" nick moves back a little, "can i?" i shrug with a small nod, i cant believe this is actually happening. my gaze doesn't move from the floor as nick explains everything. how he found me on the bathroom floor back when i was 15 with a razor blade over my bloody left wrist, and how he helped me clean everything up, and how i swore id go to him, and how i clearly didn't stick to said promise. "oh smalls, cmere" chris's voice sinks as he rushes to bring me into a hug, matt following behind and nick not long after joining.

we all stood there for what felt like hours, them just holding me. "how can we help you kid?" matt asks, "i-i dont know- i mean- i dont even know how to help myself, h-how am i meant to know how you can?" i manage to say between sobs. "shh its okay smalls, we'll figure it out together"

-timeskip-11:48pm-

"laura no- what do you mean we need to come back? we just got here" i wake up hearing nick on the phone, to laura from what it sounds like, i creep out of my room, to the top of the stairs that lead down to the living area where the boys supposedly are. "nick what? put it on speaker" chris says. "theres been a couple meetings that you guys need to be at come up" i can just make out through nicks speaker. "what? no we cant, cant you rearrange them for when we're back?" matt grumpily says down the phone, "im sorry matt, i already tried since i knew you guys were going back to boston, theres nothing i can do, you guys need to be back by tomorrow night" "this is so fucked up, what is this even for? we're needed here and not to be rude but this is way more important than any meeting" chris snaps, not at laura directly but at the situation hes found themselves in. "its a meeting with the big companies about brand deals, like i said i really tried to organise it for a month from now but they wouldn't do it, these guys really want to partner with you guys, theyre offering a lot of money" "fuck, can we call you back laura?" nick mutters, "yea sure, call me back asap so i can book your flights okay?" "yea okay bye laura" and he hangs up. "what the fuck are we gonna do?" matt asks, "im not sure, we cant leave y/n but mum and dad will not let us bring her with us either cause of school" nick thinks out loud, "what if we just dont go?" chris shrugs, "we cant not go chris, dont be fucking stupid" nick claps back in a duh tone. "for fucks sake, how many meetings did she say it was?" "theres three, one on Tuesday, one on Thursday and another on Monday" "what if we go and then fly back like straight after? would that work?" matt suggests "i mean it wouldn't not work" nick shrugs "but we cant leave y/n right now dude, shes struggling and what will happen if we just leave again?" chris pipes up again, to which matt huffs falling back into the sofa. "i dont know what to do you guys" nick sighs almost in defeat, "me neither", "fuck."

i let out a shaky breath before getting up and head straight back to my room, getting back into bed. 'are they gonna leave me again?' 'what if theyre gone for months again' my mind starts to race. i snatch my headphones off my bedside table and place them over my ears, playing my playlist, turning the volume all the way up, attempting to silence the thoughts.

-9:34am-

"hey y/n? kid wake up" i rub my eyes open to see my brothers, matt sat on the edge of my bed with chris and nick stood behind him. "whats going on?" i ask slightly dazed, "we gotta fly back to la but only for 9 days and we're gonna be right back okay?" matt says softly. my face drops, i thought i just dreamt last night. "youre leaving me again?" i mutter, "no- well- kinda? but we're going to come right back we swear" chris rambles. "whatever" i mumble, pulling the covers over my head and turning away from the three. "y/n please, we dont want to go but we have no choice, laura called last night and we tried to get her to rearrange it but she couldn't, please understand that" nick pleaded, i didn't reply, i just stayed still and ignored them. i cant believe theyre leaving me again. "im sorry smalls, please dont stay mad at us, we'll be back before you know it" chris says rubbing my shoulder, they all mutter small goodbyes and leave. after i hear the door shut, i let out a small sob i had been holding in.

-7 days later-

the last couple days have been really difficult, and i mean really fucking difficult. i havent left my room unless it was to go to the toilet, which ive only done like twice. i haven't showered. i haven't eaten, or drunk anything. mum and dad are really worried, they keep leaving plates of food and water outside my door but i physically cant get up to go get it, and even if i did its not like im going to eat it anyway. i hate that im such a burden for them, i hate that im worrying them so much. all i knew was i needed them, i needed my brothers. i tried messaging them in our group chat for help 3 days ago but there isn't much they can do being 5 and a half hours away. i huff, slamming my phone down onto my bed. i cant do this any longer. i push myself out of bed, trudging towards the bathroom, locking the door behind me. i tiredly look in the mirror, a worn out, struggling girl looks back to me, begging me not to do what im about to, but i ignore her silent pleads. i turn to the shelves, reaching for my basket on the second bottom shelf, grabbing a box of meds, then lifting a bottle to reveal a new razorblade underneath. i pick up the blade and put the bottle back into the basket. i fill a small cup we have for rinsing up with water before sliding my back down the cabinet, leaning against it. am i actually gonna do this? what am i saying i cant continue suffering like this anymore. but am i gonna leave without saying goodbye? that's a good point, ill write out a text, something simple so they dont suspect anything. a simple "i love you all and appreciate everything you guys do for me<3" yea thatll work, and i hit send. i turn off my phone, placing it on the cabinet, above my head. taking a breath i take a sip of water and swallow a handful of pills, then another, emptying 2 boxes. shit i really just did that. i look down at the silver blade in my hand, so much power is in such a tiny little thing. i slowly move it over my unwrapped wrist, the recent gashes already starting to heal. i push down hard against my wrist and pull, blood pushes out of the slit like its been waiting to escape. again, i push the blade down and pull. again. again. again. again. again. again. the crimson blood pooling around me. again. again. again. i start to feel faint. shit. am i really doing this? i dont want to die? i just want the pain and suffering to stop. shit shit shit. i try get up but my vision starts to blur, no no no, not yet i cant die just yet-

-the same time but sturniolo triplets pov/ no pov?-

ding ding ding all three of their phones went off. chris checks his phone and sees the notification from y/n, to their group chat, even though hes in the middle of a meeting he opens it anyway;

"i love you all and appreciate everything you guys do for me<3"

for a minute, he smiles at the kind words. but it doesn't last last before his smile turns into a frown, "guys, look" he says shoving his phone into his elder brothers faces, "chris what? we're in the middle of something here, sorry about this" nick apologies, as if chris is a toddler interrupting his parents at work, but his face quickly drops as he reads the message, snatching chris's phone from him, to make sure hes reading it clearly. "im so sorry about this but a big family emergency has just come up and we need to go, ill get laura to contact you, and again im so sorry but we have to go" nick rambles as he packs his stuff up and leaves, matt and chris right behind him.

"nick what is going on? you cant just leave like that, that was the most important meeting out of the three!" laura almost yells down the phone, "sorry laura but i think y/n is in trouble so that meeting can kiss my ass because y/n is way more important, i gotta go" "nick-" and he hangs up. the three boys grab their bags that they still hadn't unpacked from before as they planned to fly straight back after the last meeting, and drove straight to the airport. they rushed in and got straight on the plane.

-5 hours later-

knock knock knock "cmon y/n open the door!" jimmy yells knock knock "sweetie you've been in there for hours, are you alright?" Marylou softly but loudly speaks "cmon lovey open the door for us".

"dad mind out the way" chris says and he runs up the stairs, "oh fuck chris you almost gave me a heart attack" jimmy huffs, moving out of the way, along with Marylou standing next to him. once chris gets outside the door he starts to kick it in, matt and nick are not long behind chris and start helping to kick the door in. it only took around 4/5 kicks with their combined strength for the door to slam open, but the scene revealed on the other side was the worst thing they could've ever imagined. they all froze at the sight. the shriek from Marylou seemed to bring them all back as it rung through all of their ears, "boys call 911 now! and get away from the bathroom!" jimmy yells as he takes marylou downstairs and away, sure his mind was running but he knew he had to get his wife and eldest kids away before he could actually do anything.

its like time has paused, yet moving so fast simultaneously. the blue lights can be seen flashing outside the sturniolo residence, matt almost flies down the stairs and lets them in and guides them to where y/n is laying, with chris next to her, holding a washcloth tight over her wrist, trying to stop blood flowing out. "chris move, the paramedics are here" matt shouts as he follows behind them. what feels like at the speed of light, they take y/n into the ambulance before asking "theres only space for one extra person, or we could take her on her own?" "ill go" "ill go" chris and nick say in sync before death glaring each other. "we dont have time for this, im going, you two talk to mum and dad then meet us there okay?" matt says calmy, although much like his dad, hes freaking out like crazy inside.

"is she going to be okay?" matt asks as the ambulance is racing to the hospital, "please tell me something? anything? i need to know shes going to be okay?" he frantically rambles, "i cant be 100% on whats going to happen but no matter she'll live" the paramedic stood over y/n confirms, "so shes going to be okay?" matt says hopeful, "i didn't say that" and with that whispered statement his heart sinks.

-2 hours later-

the ambulance arrived at the hospital and they rushed y/n in. a doctor met matt in the waiting area to question him and ask what happened. nick, chris, jimmy and Marylou arrived around half hour after matt did. matt then had to fill them in on what he knows, which really isn't much. and from then they have just been waiting for a doctor to come over and say shes okay and breathing, and that they can go see her. jimmy and Marylou had nodded of as its almost 3am but the boys were very much still wide awake, not fully used to the timezone change yet.

"um for y/n sturniolo?" a doctor shouts, the triplets jump up and rush over, "and you guys are?" the doctor questions, "her older brothers" "is she okay?" "whats going on?" they all blurt out over each other, "ah, shes doing okay, but she is asleep still. she has a drip that helps try save her liver and we've stitched up her wrists. she'll physically be okay if all goes well but you might want to get her some mental help, i brang out some leaflets that have different ways to help, here" he says passing over a few leaflets to the boys, "thanks" nick hums putting them in his back pocket. "can we see her?" chris asks "give me like 20 minutes to check everything and ill be right out to getcha" the doctor nods with a polite smile.

-20 minutes later-

"hi boys, so everything is okay, you can now go sit in her room but she is still infact asleep so try be quiet, she needs the rest. shes in room 197, second floor" the doctor finally reveals, "thank you so much" all three boys say in sync before rushing off to the stairs.

"there look 197" nick points the a sign hanging above a door. they slowly walk in and see y/n laying there asleep, connecting to a drip like the doctor had said. "she looks so uncomfortable" nick mumbles walking closer to her. "did they say anything about how long it would take for her to wake up?" nick asks his younger brothers, to which they both shrug, and so they decide to sit and wait for her to wake up.

-hours later-y/n pov-

i slowly wake up and my head feels like its throbbing and my heart feels so heavy, like it weighs a thousand pounds. i lift my arms to rub my eyes but i have a strong pain shoots through both, i squint my eyes open to see bright white lights shining down on me. i look down to my arms and see my left wrist covered in bandages, and my right arm is connected to a drip? where the hell am i? i look around a bit more, with my eyes fully open now and i see the boys asleep, they should be in la still? what the fuck happened? -oh. that explains why i feel so numb.

i feel sick to my stomach, i cant believe how selfish i was. to do that. and to let them find me. my whole body feels like its closing in on itself, my heart pounding out of my chest, my lungs being tightly squeezed to the point i can barely breathe. im such a horrible person, why on earth would i put my favourite people through this? i tightly shut my eyes and let out multiple shaky breaths. my head running wild.

"y/n?" i snap out of my trance, to see matt stood over me, drowning in anxiety. i bite my bottom lip and look down, away from his worried eyes. "kid look at me. please?" i reluctantly look back up to the older boy, terrified of what hes going to say. a moment of painful, awkward, silence passes, just looking at one another, no verbal words being exchanged but everything needed was said. he pulls a small, comforting smile onto his face and leans forward pulling me into one of his hugs, attempting to squeeze out all of my suffering.

"omg y/n youre awake!" is almost yelled from behind matt, he pulls back to reveal a happy but anxious chris. "hey smalls, how are you?" i lightly shrug. nick then walks into the wrong with 4 bottles of water, "i bought y/n some water to for when she wakes- omg y/n!" he drops all 4 bottles and runs over to me wrapping me in his tight embrace.

-timeskip- a month later-

its been hard this past week. i got released from hospital like 3 days after i was admitted. ive had therapy sessions three times a week with Dr Louise, shes nice i guess, it might just be me but it feels like she doesn't understand what im going through or what ive been through. like i get shes there to work and get paid but it feels like that's the only reason shes there, like she doesn't care, but hey, i have my brothers. the boys haven't left boston yet, they told me theyd stay for 2 more months minimum before they had to go back for a couple weeks for work then theyd be back again. i know its gonna take some more time but i really feel like im eventually gonna get better. and its all thanks to matt, nick, and chris.

"hey angel, we spoke to laura and we managed to clear our schedules for the next 2 months so we can stay here with you" nick sits down next to me on the couch, chris and matt mimicking his actions sitting the other side of me. "we told her that our favourite girl is more important than any work stuff and we would risk it all just to make sure our favourite girl is okay" chris smiles, wrapping his arm around my shoulders pulling me into a side hug "we would drop everything in a second to fly back here for you kid." "im sorry, about everything. i love you guys" i say with a small smile. "dont apologise smalls, we love you more than youll ever know, like i say, your our favourite girl"

-

NOTE: sorry im not being too active on here, college is kicking my ass and im js not in the best mental state rn so ive js been a bit distracted? ig idk. i saw that 750 people are now following me and im like speechless, i appreciate and love all of you so fckn much istg🫶

as always feedback is appreciated <333

THANK YOU FOR READING

LOVE YOU HOES

taglist:

@m0r94n @chrisgetsmewetterxo @raysmayhem-72 @junnniiieee07 @sturnzsblog @sturniolo-slvt @mattspolitank @cerismo @chrispotatos @ncm9696 @pvssychicken

[sublimeinal-messages]

Any five x oc fanfic recs? I just read your entire series in 2 days and I crave more

OMG hi sorry I didn't see your ask until now! Personally, I found myself frustrated with a lot of Five fics out there because they were very romance-focused and didn't give the rest of the family the care that was needed, but the fic Definitely Maybe I Will Live To Love by my friend Seeing_Blue (@i-dropped-the-chief !) who not only made me realize Oh! there are actually good oc fanfics that can exist, and also involve a well-written Five. And I consumed the entire series of fics that exist that they wrote, as well as the AU spinoff fic.... and then all of their other works outside the Umbrella Academy fandom. Seeing-Blue is just a fantastic writer all around and I cannot hype up their works more, go check them out!!

[chosolala]

geto headcanons ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

my bad for edging u guys with false promises of content 😭 please accept my apology in the form of cute and silly geto headcanons :]

he’s really sentimental (w some ppl, apparently not his parents) but secretive about it, like he probably has a box hidden deep under his bed of cards, gifts and notes given to him over the years

feeds stray animals behind peoples back

he’s in touch with his feminine side, like he has an in-depth skincare and shower routine, you will NOT catch him lacking

if you’re in a relationship with him, his go to when he messes up is leaving flowers and a note at your door

the type of guy to listen to you talk shit but never say anything mean himself

he’s probably a really good cook, mama geto does not play in the kitchen.

remembers little things people tell him

^^ because of this he gives the most meaningful gifts

doesn’t really like people touching his hair but still lets you and his girls do silly hair styles on him

probably really uncomfortable with people touching him, he and gojo probably had fights because gojo kept slapping getos butt despite geto telling him not to

the type of guy to have piercings that aren’t super noticeable right away (same with tattoos)

i feel like he’d be terrible at drawing and he thinks it’s no big deal until everyone wants to play pictionary (everyone has pictures of his art saved in their phones for blackmail purposes)

probably plays guitar in his free time

i feel like he’d like nu metal music but also oldies like marvin gaye or something

trivia goat, he knows so much about random things

also i feel like he’d love watching movies in his free time, he seems like a horror movie kinda guy

i feel like he’d have a cat that he literallt treats like his kid

play video games with gojo and gen gets so angry bc he gets his ass beat everytime without fail

i know he’d get to cheating after a certain point too, he’d probably cover gojos eyes or ‘accidentally’ unplug gojos controller

unintentionally a backseat driver

did matching stick and poke tattoos for him gojo and shoko in highschool

he may have lost every fight he’s been in but he will NOT lose and argument, when they go low, geto goes lowER

i feel like he’s unaware of his looks, like sometimes he gets free drinks and compliments but assumes people are just being nice or he’s just lucky, not that he’s actually super handsome (hello sailor ;)

pin and sticker collector, but he doesn’t do anything with them like he just has them

really good at first person shooter games (but gojo refuses to play those with him)

i feel like he’d read books catered to a female audience and he’d be kind of embarrassed about it, like what do u know about girl interrupted 🤨

his closet is like 80% band tees

takes games so seriously, like he’s very competitive especially w gojo

when he’s feeling indecisive about something he literally asks an 8ball

.5 iphone picture victim, his girls constantly sneak in .5 pics of him

always wakes up early to make a good breakfast

literally gives the warmest hugs ever, his hugs could stop a person from crying

monster drink addiction

takes most of his skin/hair care from his girls, probably online shops with them too

hates shopping in person like in malls so whenever the girls want to shop he just gives them his card and tells them to keep their phones on

carries medicine on him at all times just in case, he’s prepared

[adimilkys]

Can you please PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do jjk (especially nanami and toji) with s/o in their special time that doesn't want their children to hear them? (I'm 26, not native speaker, new on Tumblr but love Ur acc)

Be quiet, love.

warnings : MDNI 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, biting, not proofread

Contains : Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento

note : I will do a part two 100% with more characters, I just had no idea what to write for Toji for now (sorry anon) my brain is dead from working... also this is hurried because I haven’t posted anything for so longg

part two (soon)

Gojo Satoru

You’re in the kitchen, drinking water after finally putting your kid to sleep. Satoru was still in their bedroom reading a bed time story, even after a full day of chaos you weren’t that tired, which was surprising as your days lately just ended with falling asleep within seconds from exhaustion.

Suddenly, you felt hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you back. Satoru leaving kisses all over your neck and shoulders. “Do you know how hard has it been for me all day? Wearing those shorts that barely cover your ass… tsk, naughty girl~”

He spun you around, picked you up and sat you down on the counter, continuing his assault to your neck. “Toru… not in here-” you whined, trying to pull his head away- which of course doesn’t work.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer… need you so badly.” He whined, his hands sneaking under your shirt, pinching your nipples.

“What if baby wakes u-” He slammed his lips on yours, cutting you off. His tongue slid over your lips, when you didn’t open them one of his hands slid down and cupped your pussy, making you gasp. He didn’t waste any time, immediately entering your mouth.

“I’ll be quick” with that, he grabbed your shorts and pulled them off right with your panties. You knew damn well that was a lie, Satoru is never quick, he loves taking his time while fucking you, making sure to fill you up until his cum is spilling out of you.

He replaced his tongue with two of his fingers, making you slightly gag. “Suck.” You complied, staring up at him with teary eyes, swirling your tongue around his fingers. He cursed under his breath at your face. “You tease… giving me the fuck me eyes, hm?”

His fingers left your mouth, immediately going down and entering your hole, making you gasp. Not wasting any time he scissored you, making sure to loosen you up as fast as possible, feeling if he didn’t, he would burst in his pants just from looking at you.

You hid your face in his neck, trying to muffle your moans. “Just like that wifey, you don’t want to wake baby up, right?”

As you were about to cum he pulled his fingers away, making you whine which was immediately replaced by a gasp- filling you up with a quick thrust.

He groaned into your ear, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his waist, giving you no time to adjust he started pounding into you at an inhuman pace.

“T-Toru!” You moaned a little too loud, biting his shoulder to contain your moans. “Shh… You’re doing so g-good… fuck.” Satoru bit his lip, trying to be quiet as well.

His pace has not slowed down even a little, going faster and faster, hitting that one spot- giving you no mercy.

“C-Close!” You managed to say before letting out a cry, your feet digging into his back as you came all around his cock.

Fuck, you were gripped him so tight. With a few more deep thrusts he buried himself right against your cervix and shoot out ropes of his cum.

You didn’t even get any time to calm down before you heard little footsteps upstairs. Immediately pushing Satoru away to put on your shorts.

“Mama… Papa?” Your kid yawned, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Sweetheart… what are you doing up?” You said trying to stand up but wincing at the sudden pain in your legs. Satoru decided to be the one to take over the situation, walking up to the little kid and taking them in his arms.

“I heard some noises…” Satoru sighed, nodding your way and taking baby up the stairs back to their bedroom.

“Papa?”

“Yes baby?”

“Why do you have a bite mark there?”

Nanami Kento

Lately you and your husband haven’t had time for any activity in bed. Your kid has gotten the flu which was really stressing. Not to mention that they’re extra clingy while sick too, always needing your attention.

Finally it has calmed down, and your baby was out asleep because of the meds. “God I need a long, relaxing bath after this week.” You sighed falling onto the couch.

“Already done, love. Even added all your oils in it.” You looked over to your husband, a grin on your face, opening your arms motioning for him to come and hug you.

“I love you so much, my amazing husband.” You left kisses all over his face while he held you in his arms. “Then I hope you wouldn’t mind if I… joined you?”

You leaned over to his ear, whispering "of course not" which made him immediately pick you up, throw you over his shoulder and carry you to the bathroom while you laughed.

He didn't waste any time in undressing you, knowing your baby could wake up. You got in the bath, Kento right behind you. You sighed leaning your head back on his shoulder, the warm water soothing your muscles.

Suddenly you felt kisses all over you neck, the mouth finding your sweet spot and sucking on it, making you let out a quiet moan. "Just relax, let me take care of you, love."

One of his hand toyed with your nipples, while the other with your folds. "No teasing, Ken..." he chuckled, two of his fingers entering your hole, making you gasp.

He found your spot in no time, abusing it over and over again. You couldn't contain your moans, thank god your bathroom was far away from the babies room.

"S-Shit- I'm-"

"Close? Cum f'me, love" he didn't have to tell you twice, you came hard all around his fingers, a silent scream leaving your lips. "S'good f'me... my pretty wife." He pulled his fingers out, grabbing your face and connecting his lips with yours, the kiss was gentle, full of love.

"I'm going to enter now, alright?" You nod your head, your nails were digging into his thighs. He positioned himself against your entrance before slowly thrusting in.

Even though it's not your first time, with Kento it feels like it is every single time. "S-So big- ugh...!" you moaned, your head threw back, eyes closed.

His thrusts started off slow, but sped up every second, some of the water splashing out of the bath and onto the floor. "You feel so good, love-" He groaned into your ear, his hands gripping your hips.

Suddenly he pulled out, you whining at the lost sensation before he picked you up, left the bath and bent you over the bathroom sink, entering you once again.

"Look at yourself, hm? So beautiful, all mine..." he grabbed your face once again, making sure you're looking in the mirror. You're hair was sticking to your face, water droplets flowing down your body. You could also see the way his dick moved in and out of your pussy, stretching it out.

His hands were wrapped around your waist, his eyes piercing right through yours in the mirror, making you flustered, wanting to look away but he doesn't let you.

His thrusts were speeding up, one of his hands lowered and went over to your clit, rubbing it. "Haah... Kennn-"

"Shit... come with me baby" With a loud moan you came, him not long after you, spilling his cum inside of you.

Both of you were panting, as he pulled out you could feel his cum spilling out of you, making you shudder at the sensation.

"You did so good love, come on let's get you dried up."

[pickingupmymercedes]

She's here and she's not only ours - Lewis Hamilton

Series: She's here and she's ours / She's here and she's not only ours / She's here and she's just like you / She's not here, but she'll be / She's here and she won't be the only one / She's here and he won't let her give up / She's here and so is he / She's here and so are we - (they can all be read as one-shots)

pairing: Dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Navigating the journey from being a couple to becoming a family is often likened to entering a whole new world—one filled with unpredictable challenges and profound joys. The radiant 7-month-old girl had effortlessly woven herself into the fabric of your lives, captivating not only you and Lewis but everyone who crossed her path. Yet, adjusting to new routines, shifting priorities, managing emotional and physical changes, and, most crucially, cultivating a deep bond with your child were aspects of parenthood that no book, class, or well-meaning advice had adequately prepared you for.

And so, the real test of parenthood often lay in learning to prioritize.

“Oh my God, she’s growing up so quickly!” Susie exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she entered the living area of your apartment, making a beeline for the giggling toddler seated in her bumbo seat on the kitchen island.

“Please, don’t remind me. Time is flying by too fast already,” you replied, your smile widening as you watched your baby recognize Susie and reach out to be scooped up.

“I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced… I just... I had to know why,” Susie said, her expression curious and concerned.

You had expected people to comment and be surprised, but you hadn’t anticipated the attention coming so soon, even before you and Lewis had a chance to share your news.

“So, I take it everyone at Mercedes already knows?”

“More like everyone on the paddock, probably,” Susie confirmed.

“Do you remember her first few days? When she struggled to gain weight and every day felt like a battle?”

The first inkling that something was amiss came mere hours after you had returned home with your newborn daughter. Her incessant cries and insatiable hunger, even after an hour of breastfeeding, had raised red flags.

You had been warned that the initial days would be challenging—that you were now solely responsible for nourishing a tiny human. So, you soldiered on, suppressing your growing panic and tears, dreading the 40-minute feeding intervals where you’d bite your tongue and cheeks to keep from crying.

You tried every trick in the book—increasing your water intake, warm and cold compresses, dietary changes, pumping between feeds, consulting lactation specialists, and even consuming magic lactation cookies. Yet, your milk supply remained stubbornly low.

The sense of failure weighed heavily on you; your primary role was to nurture your baby, something you had done successfully during pregnancy. Instead of relishing the joys of new motherhood, you felt like a failure, a lesser mother to your daughter and a villain to your husband's fairytale of having kids.

Lewis was acutely aware of your distress and tried to be supportive. Despite knowing, as doctors and specialists had advised, that you needed to supplement with formula for both your daughter’s and your own well-being, he refrained from pressuring you. Every night he would feel as though you were punching him in the face when you went out of his sight to cry, or how his chest would tighten when he carried your screaming daughter in his arms, knowing she needed more, from him and from you. Still, he didn’t have in him to lecture you, yet again, on how that little girl needed more, not when you were giving your life and sanity away for her.

It wasn’t until the day before her second week checkup that you broke down. You knew the scale wasn’t going to give her much more grams than she had the past week, way less than she deserved and the added burden that he would be going for his first race of the season in a couple days had you reaching your breaking point.

Seeing Lewis on the sofa, looking worried and worn-out, you collapsed in front of him, letting your tears flow freely. He held you, comforting you with gentle whispers, and you both agreed that transitioning to formula was for the best. Despite the months of hearing about the benefits of breastfeeding, you had come to understand that sometimes the most challenging part of parenthood was knowing when to stand your ground and make the best choice for your family.

“We don’t want his job to feel like a burden every weekend,” you said.

“So, the Hamiltons will be a staple in the paddocks?” Susie asked, her approving smile revealing her pride.

“Life doesn’t always go as planned, does it?” You shrugged

“The media is going to love that smile,” Susie cooed, her attention directed at the toothy grin of your daughter.

“Yeah… She won’t be only ours, but Lewis needs her as much as she needs him. I guess it’s a small price to pay,” you replied, smiling at your yawning daughter in Susie’s lap, her little hands rubbing her eyes—a clear sign that her naptime was due.

“Please, let me. She still loves Disney songs, right?” Susie absentmindedly asked, already heading towards your daughter’s room, laying the toddler on her cheast and ready to lull her to sleep with a familiar melody. As you watched, you couldn’t help but marvel at how your daughter had already captured so many hearts at such a young age.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you'd like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[tinylilacbun]

Rafe, Sofia and reader but Rafe still learns Sofia made a deal with Groff they broke up but reader getting caught in the middle of it and not understanding what’s going on

You giggle as you watch Bluey on the tv, patiently waiting for Sofia who's making you a snack in the kitchen when she hears her phone ring, rounding the counter to grab her phone from the table and answers at seeing that it's Rafe.

"Hey, babe. What up?" She says and Rafe instantly gets to the point.

"Is it true?" He asks, his tone firm. "Is it true what Groff just told me? Is it?"

Sofia stays silent, not knowing how to respond but that alone was confirmation enough for him, scrunching his nose and nodding.

"A'ight, pack your shit. Get out of my house. God, after everything me and Y/n did for you." He says, the anger and overall betrayal he's feeling evident in his voice. "We're done. Done. I don't care if you tell her or not because I will do it either way, so don't even bother of sweet talking to her."

The line goes dead and she lowers her phone, tears brimming in her eyes that she tries to push back as she walks past you, making her way upstairs.

You knit your brows confused, getting up and following after her curiously. As you reach the bedroom your eyes widen when you catch Sofia packing a bag, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"Mama? Wha' You doin'?" You question softly.

"I...I did something horrible. Rafe...he'll explain everything to you." She says, continuing to empty the drawers that held her clothes and you walk over to her.

"Mama stop. You're scarin' me..." You mumble, grabbing her wrists to stop her. "I don' understand..."

"I did something you both will never forgive me. I have to leave, I'm- I'm sorry." She sighs, freeing herself from your grip to place the last things in her bag, turning back to meet your now saddened gaze.

"Pwease." You plead, tearing up as well. "Don' go. I forgive you! Jus' don' go..."

Sofia smiles sadly at your determination, her heart breaking at how you don't hesitate to forgive her even though you don't even know what happened, that she betrayed you and Rafe by accepting the money from Hollis and persuading Rafe into making that deal that now cost him 400k.

"I'm sorry...for everything." She says, slinging the back over her shoulder she walks out of the room with you trailing behind her.

You watch helplessly as she puts on her shoes, placing the house keys she got from Rafe before he went to Morocco onto the counter near the entrance before opening the front door, glancing at you one last time.

Without another word she closes the door and you're left crying, not understanding what's going on when your phone rings, answering it while sobbing.

"Baby? It's me." Rafe starts speaking and you sob harder. "Shh, calm down first."

"I- I- mama jus-" You hiccup, clutching your stomach.

"I know, I know. You gotta calm down, yeah? Deep breaths." He instructs, doing exasperated breaths through the phone for you to mimic.

Slowly but surely your heavy sobs subsided to sniffles and small coughs.

"There we go...just like that. Better?" He asks and you shake your head even though he couldn't see.

"Mama s'gone. I- I wanted to stop her b-but she didn' listen." You cry, sliding down a nearby wall. "Daddy..."

"Ma- Sofia did something bad, kid...I don't want to tell you over the phone but I promise I'll tell you everything when I'm back, okay?" He says, running a hand over his head at hearing your broken sniffles, wanting nothing more but to cradle you in his arms right now, his heart aching. "Baby?"

"Come back now..." You whimper, having no one to run to while being this sad right now. "Pwease daddy..."

"I wish I could. I really do." He sighs. "I'm almost done here and will be back as soon as I can, I swear. I'll send Topper to check on you later, a'ight?"

"O-Otay..." You sniffle, pulling your knees to your chest and drawing shapes on your knees. "I-I lub you."

"I love you too, kid. Daddy will be home soon." He promises before the line goes dead. "Baby? Hello?" Rafe looks at the phone, cursing when it wouldn't turn back on, the battery probably empty.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[emmyrosee]

suna and 11? CONGRATS EMMY!!!!

THANK YOU ANGEL FACE 🥹🩷

anonymous said 11. Suna and maybe u can tie it with ur recent post and possibly make them break up??? ❤️

11 with Suna… Argument 💔

There’s a deep rooted insecurity suna rintaro holds.

It’s not one he talks about often, nor do you bring it up, because it’s dumb, it’s a stupid little thing that you both know doesn’t make a difference in your relationship, yet Rintaro always finds himself harping and beating himself up over it.

Right now is no exception, as you stand across from him with your hands scrubbing your face, clearly exhausted by the fight.

“I don’t think of Osamu like that!”

“You sure had a hell of a time showing it!”

You had a crush on Osamu first.

Way back when rintaro wasn’t even into you, he couldn’t have known you from some random soul, you had feelings for osamu, but you never acted on them because you assumed he never liked you back- not to mention his insane fan girls. You kept your distance until you moved on; only to meet Rintaro in college, recognizing each other about three weeks in, where your feelings for him started to bloom.

You’d let it slip to him once when recounting high school memories how you fell hard for the dark haired twin, and while yes, it made rintaro tense up, you assured him it was over. You were done with him.

Yet every time you hang out with the group, Rintaro feels that same jealousy creep up his spine.

“God, when will it click for you that I love you!” You cry, desperate for him to hear you. “You! Only you! For five years Rintaro, it’s only ever been you!”

“Don’t act like you still don’t-“

“I DONT!” You bark. “I don’t! Whatever you’re about to say, I. Don’t. Because I do, with you!”

He feels sick to his stomach at this point, your sharp words to him only translating as a defense against his words, desperate to keep something hidden.

Not as a genuine frustration.

“I think you should go be with Osamu,” he snarls. “Since your so comfortable getting him drinks and putting your hands on him-“

“I wasn’t making out with the kid, I was patting his back after a joke!”

“-and maybe you should be with him since he’s just soo funny-“

“MAYBE I WILL!” You shriek.

The plates in the kitchen settle and the doors creak softly at the force of your yells, and your eyes glimmer with remorse but your face harbors exhaustion.

“…what?” He croaks.

“Maybe I should go be with literally anyone else,” you choke. “Since you think I’m flirting with anyone and everyone in the goddamned circle-“

“Wait- no, I just-“

“I don’t care what you do,” you whimper. “I’m sick of your jealousy. I’m sick of your hatred of my friendship with some kid who couldn’t give a fuck about me- you literally picked up the pieces of me he shattered, yet you still think there’s a chance I could love him?” You scoff, “you’re ridiculous.”

He sobers up as you throw your arms out in defeat, “I’m so… tired, of the accusations, Rintaro. I’ve given you five years of unconditional love and gratitude. And all you can boil me down to is someone who had a crush in high school?”

“I’m just so worried to lose you,” he says, voice breaking.

“Yeah? Well, you’ve lost me.” You take a step back and gnaw on your lip, “I’m going to go. Think long and thorough about this. But just know, I’ll always love you. Even if you’ve never trusted me.”

“No, no, no, please, don’t leave-“

“I’ll talk to you later…. Okay?”

He’s never going to hear from you again. This, he knows.

The door closes, and he wipes his tearful eyes with the back of his head, slipping out his phone to look at your happy smiling face again, one he took off the face of the earth with his jealousy.

There’s a black screen that faces back to him. It won’t turn on. He groans and hucks the thing across the room, hearing it clang somewhere far enough away.

He’ll deal with it in the morning. For now, he’s got some wallowing to plan out.

[yaseraphine]

astro observations 5 - appearance and vibes / Cancer rising men

Men used as examples in this post : Booba / Troye Sivan / Nekfeu / Bill Gates / The Weeknd / Salvador Dali / George Michael/ Pharrell Williams / John Cena / Cyril Hanouna

Physical appearance 

Weirdly enough, a lot of them have chad faces / the type to be labeled as a "professional moggers" or whatever it is called / probably the most objectively handsome men in my opinion / square jaws / soft watery eyes / smooth skin / irresistible and sweet smirk

When they get older, some of them end up having the Dilf/ Daddy type of looks with this softness still remaining that usually makes women melt (yes i used John Cena as a dilf example..sorry guys)

"There must have been an angel by my side"

The eyes and the jaw is huge here, they also are generally muscular -> the chest area is prominent in a way

They tend to look like cherubs. They have an angel-like appearance.

Really angelic and cute appearance. A little shy the first time you meet, get flustered easily, pink ears and cheeks

The eyes are really expressive and sparkly. It's like you can see stars being reflected in their eyes when you look at them. A really soft, poetic and deep gaze that can make you blush a bit. Their eyes from what I have seen are full of emotions. Really captivating but not in a intense scopionic sense, it's more magical kind of like bishonen, the standard face of male protagonists in shojos or just generally a lot of animes (think of Howl in the Ghibli movie Howl's moving castle)

Body : usually smaller than average. Twinks or buff dudes with a heart of gold. There is no in-between in my experiences.

If you know about Kibbe or Kitchener's body type and face type essences systems :

Kibbe body type :  Flamboyant gamine, or gamine , some could be soft classic even

Face type / essence : Gamine, Ingenue or more rarely Angelic (ethereal)

First impressions, vibes, general way of presenting themselves

Right off the bat, there is something significant about the way they speak and interact with people. They usually have really soft, deep and soothing voices. Talk in a really calm and composed manner. They take their time to speak. They take their time to pronounce each word.

Have a way with words that is usually really captivating. Really calming presence. Natural talent for poetry, play on words. They can be really good at voice acting. They usually have a really good diction too. Really good storytellers.

Appears really shy though. Can’t really hide their emotions, we can easily read right through them.

A lot of them are artistically inclined, really sensitive men. Women feel safe around them and they are often surrounded by women.

Really appreciated by women. The type of men little girls want to marry when they grow up.

They usually know how to keep people at ease by using humor too. They tend to be quite funny and have a really relatable humor. Usually really good at imitations too. Good at picking up on people’s emotions. 

Really caring and attentive to their loved ones.

Likes to call people by pet names/ cute nicknames like "darling", "angel" "sweatheart", etc ..from my experience. The type to say "let's go kids!" to their group of friends. Even if they are men, they are just usually really maternal.

Usually is quite expressive in their "face body language" and likes to make goofy facial expressions. Their emotions are just visible on their face.

Makes deep eye contact, nods at everything you say. The type to tell you " no no it's ok keep going 😆😅" when you're losing your train of thoughts.

If you accidentally overshare, and they obviously see you’re embarrassed, they will reassure you.

Killers on the Dancefloor ? : Something also quite random about them is that they all have these silly little dances and signature moves that they do. If you invite them to a party, be prepared to be impressed. It’s a bit silly and kind of cute but at same time they’re killing it.

You feel like you can cry in their arms vibes. They have this friendly energy.

A lot of them tend to create a community since they need it. Always in search of their soul family.

A lot of them tend to have groupies from what I have seen. Like they can become the main pillar that holds their friend group together. 

Generally really paternal/maternal, kind of like a reassuring parental figure. Just like Capricorn risings, they have this parental figure vibes to them. It's like you can count on them. However , Capricorn risings represent more the archetype of the Father, representing tough love and practicality. Cancer risings on the other hand represent the archetype of the Mother, focusing on emotional security and vulnerability.

When Capricorn risings look like they would give you great life advice and be a good mentor, Cancer risings look like you can be vulnerable and open up to them, like they can provide you emotional healing. Kind of like a therapist in a way.

The Devil hidden behind those angelic eyes : 

Smooth Operator - Sade : “his eyes are like angels but his heart is cold”

“No place for beginners or sensitive hearts

When sentiment is left to chance

“No place to be ending but somewhere to start”

“A license to love, insurance to hold

Melts all your memories and change into gold

His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold”

Despite all this potential to be an amazing, emotionally mature, sensitive and creative person a lot of them will fall in the shadows. Deception, emotional manipulation, victimization, gaslighting will be their driving force and fuel through life. Because of unresolved negative and destructive emotional patterns, they will become the most vile and manipulative creatures you’ll ever meet, all of this disguised behind a mask of sympathy and openness. They will trick you into thinking you can open up yourself to them, that they’ll understand you. You will not realize until it’s too late that you’ve been tricked by their sweet words and their skills to read right through people. They will project and consistently play victim. They will become professional actors. They will be the type of men Raye describes in her song named :  “Oscar Winning Tears.” She says that about the song : “This is about a man who put me through hell, and then proceeded to cry about it. I wanted to create a big dramatic classic feeling record with live strings to capture the audacity of his silly tears, to feel powerful whilst telling this story”

=> “Truly, I'm vulnerable, I love a sentiment

Quickly I opened up, I learned my lesson then

Thought I was safe again, thought he was innocent

I was so wrong”

“I can't deny

I thought you were the man, but you had a plan

The fuck you lying for? Fuck you crying for?

You did it again (yeah, ah-ah-ah)”

“So I'll take this front row seat

And baby, baby, you can go ahead

Cry those Oscar-winning tears

Popcorn and I scream

Baby, baby, you can go ahead

Cry those Oscar winning (tears) tears, baby”

The white lies will begin to be stained by red dots of blood. Their heightened intuition and sensitivity will not be used for good and will become a deadly weapon. A weapon that traps its victims in a sugar coated hell. Let’s not forget that their shadow (their 7th house sign) is Capricorn, represented by The Devil in Tarot.  The light of their angel-like charm will pull you in only to realize too late that you’ve fallen deep in the shadows, embraced by the hands of the devil. But it’s too late. You’ve already fallen too deep in the umbra to even see just a gleam.

Cancer risings sadly tend to be stuck in really toxic emotional cycles from what I have seen. 

A lot of them tend to be master manipulators. The type to guilt-trip and gaslight you. 

Real-life examples of this shadow side: 

Shane Dawson was extremely well-liked on the internet. He was infamous for his funny skits, was good at imitations and kind of created this relatable persona that people got attached to. Cancerian energy gave him this familiar and “sweet” guy vibes that made people admire his apparent transparency. Turns out he was extremely manipulative and problematic.

Nekfeu , In his songs, there is a scary amount of self-awareness regarding his toxic behaviors and the patterns he tends to repeat. This to me is the peak example of how thin the layer is between each signs’ light and shadow side. This hyper self-awareness towards their shadow side while simultaneously consciously repeating it describes really well those men. They don’t use their intuition for good.

Laughable loves / Ridiculous loves (risibles amours)

“And each time I care, I can't be myself

Why this need to hide everything ?

None of these girls matter, and I met you

You were different, it scared me, and I screwed up

We were part of a whole thing, we were high perched

If I lost her, I would have looked for it”

“My boy's envies/desires turn into a boring game

Relationships which lead me nowhere

Even if I'm trying to find the solution in this illusion of seduction

I've got the feeling that I only knew one woman

I know the risks of love but I'm still having a taste for the risk

the boy’s envies/ desires is to be understood in “my boyish desires”. He is rapping about the desires he has that are one of a boy, not  a man. He knows it, knows it is self-destructive. Throughout the entire song, he shows really obvious self-awareness.

=> It is really hard to find good/ perfect translations to his play on words since sometimes he uses french idioms that aren't easily translatable in english without losing the meaning. (i found the lyrics' translation here => https:/lyricstranslate.com/fr/risibles-amours-laughable-loves.html)

/!\ disclaimer - mention of domestic abuse /!\

When I made that post, it wasn’t known yet that one of  the main examples used here (Nekfeu / the guy in the two pictures in between The Weeknd holding his grammys and next to troye sivan in the "there must have been an angel by my side" part) recently got exposed for having “allegedly” physically, psychologically and sexually abused his ex-partner. (i put allegedly in quotations marks because girl there are much higher chances he did it then not. I will always stand with the victims. If you went through something similar know that : Victims we always believe you and we stand by you ! ). While preparing for the post, the news wasn't out yet so I had to change the way I portrayed him accordingly. I think a reminder is always needed because putting him here will unfortunatly make him have some "visibility". I don't want to present him in a positive light or to make him gain potential new fans. If I can use this post to raise awareness, I will do it gladly. Especially with the current state of the world, and how more and more women's rights are getting taken away.

The Weeknd , being a cancer rising with a capricorn stellium shows this duality really well. His lyrics are raw and confessional. He shows a lot of self-awareness regarding his terrible and toxic behaviors. He is absolutely aware that he is stuck in karmic cycles yet this awareness isn’t enough to get him out of those self-destructive cycles.

Cyril Hanouna, is a very controversial french radio host and TV host and producer. He is known for being extremely narcissistic and for always playing victim, saying people are trying to attack him unfairly. He is extremely manipulative and sly, and pretends it’s always other people’s fault.

+BONUS / Additional visual examples :

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ no part. random flashback. ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

You pull up to John's apartment building, a weird feeling of anxiety in your chest.

Your oldest is chattering excitedly in the backseat about spending the weekend with his daddy, while the youngest, still a bit groggy from just have woken up an hour ago, clutches her favorite stuffed animal.

“Alright, monkeys,” you say with forced cheerfulness as you turn off the engine. “Time to go see Daddy.”

Gabriel practically bursts out of his car seat with excitement. You unbuckle Linnie and hoist her onto your hip, grabbing the overnight bags with your free hand.

John opens the door before you can knock, a warm smile spreading across his face as he sees the kids.

“There’s my boy," he grins, kneeling down to your oldest’s level to scoop him up in a bear hug.

Your youngest reaches for John immediately, smiling big around the binkie in her mouth. “And my girl.”

"Hey," you say softly, trying to muster a smile. John stands up, taking Linnie in one arm and holding Gabriel's hand in the other.

It’s then that you notice it—a purplish-reddish mark peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

A hickey.

Your stomach drops, for whatever reason.

"Thanks for bringing them over," John says, his tone casual, as if everything is normal.

“Daddy lets us order pizza!" Gabriel grins, bouncing on his feet.

"That’s great," you reply, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.

You force yourself to focus on Gabriel and Linnie, planting a kiss on each of their heads. "You guys be good for Daddy, okay? Mommy will see you on Sunday."

As you turn to leave, John catches your arm gently. "Hey, are you alright?" he asks, trying to meet your eyes.

“I’m fine, and even if I wasn’t, it’s not your job to check up on me.” You mumble, harsher than intended.

John seems to accept this, releasing your arm with soft sigh. "Drive safe," he says simply.

You barely make it to the car before the tears start to burn your eyes. The sight of that hickey, evidence of someone else in John’s life…

You manage to buckle yourself in and start the engine, your vision blurred by tears.

As you drive away, the weight of your emotions overwhelms you. The road ahead is a hazy blur, and sobs wrack your body. The realization that John is moving on, that he’s finding happiness with someone else, feels like a fresh wound.

You pull over to the side of the road, unable to see through the flood of tears. Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as you cry, letting out all the pain, frustration, and loneliness you’ve been holding inside.

The thought of another woman touching John, of him caring for her the way he used to care for you, is almost too much to bear.

After what feels like an eternity, the sobs subside into quiet sniffles. You wipe your eyes, take a few deep breaths, and force yourself to focus.

The kids need you to be strong, that’s what you tell yourself.

With a heavy heart, you pull back onto the road and drive home…

But not before sending a quick reply to that Tinder DM that you had been ignoring for the past three days.

•••

John closed the door after you left and set the baby to her feet to toddle around after her brother. He sighed, a lingering sense of guilt washing over him. He couldn't shake the image of the pain in your eyes when you noticed the hickey.

He thought you’d go off on him, get all pissed and possessive. He didn’t think you’d give him the cold shoulder.

After lunch, John lets the little ones down for a nap in their shared room. He tucks the oldest into his big-boy bed and the baby in the crib against the opposite wall of the small room.

Once they’re asleep John heads to the kitchen and makes himself a cup of coffee. He sits at the kitchen table, savoring the brief moment of peace. His phone was on the table, and he picks it up, going straight to Tinder.

A smirk forms on his lips as he sees a new message from the profile he’s been using under the fake name “Jake.”

You: Hey, Jake! I’m free tonight if that works for you? 😊

Jake: Let’s meet at that little Italian place downtown around 8.

He sends the message and puts his phone down, leaning back in his chair. He knows you’ll go to the restaurant, expecting to meet “Jake,” only to find yourself stood up.

He hopes the disappointment might lead you to call him for comfort, a scenario he finds himself oddly anticipating.

Hours pass, and the kids eventually wake up from their naps. John spends the evening feeding them dinner and giving them a bath, all the while keeping an eye on the time.

He plays with them until bedtime, reading them stories and tucking them in once more.

As the clock nears 8 PM, John starts to feel a wave of guilt. He knows what he’s doing isn’t fair, but he can’t help himself.

He spends the rest of the evening cleaning up the apartment and watching TV, waiting for the call he suspects might come.

Finally, around 9:30, his phone buzzes. He sees your name on the screen and his heart skips a beat. He answers, trying to sound casual.

“Hey, love. Everything alright?” he asks, even though he knows exactly why you’re calling.

Your voice sounds strained, and he can hear the disappointment. “Yeah, I just… I went out tonight, and the person I was supposed to meet never showed up. I feel so stupid.”

John’s heart aches hearing you like this, but he forces himself to keep up the act. “I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. Wanna talk about it?”

You sigh, the frustration evident in your voice. “I just don’t understand why people do this. Why pretend to be interested if you’re just going to disappear?”

John nods, though you can’t see it. “Men are idiots, lovey. But you know I’m always here for you, don’t you?”

“Yeah… yeah, I know.” You sigh softly. You lie back on your bed, looking up at the ceiling.

“Still there?” John asks gently.

“Still here…” You wipe under your eyes, the wetness from your frustrated tears lingering on your cheeks. “The kids asleep?

“Out like lights.” John chuckles softly.

You smile to yourself, imagining how happy and comfy the kids probably are at John’s right now. “I miss them already.”

“You can come by whenever you’d like.” John says, trying not to sound too eager.

You snort at that suggestion.

“Defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

“Suppose it does.” John agrees. “Unless the kids aren’t the only ones you were missin’.”

You want to roll your eyes, go off on him, explain how inappropriate that was to even suggest…

But your heart flutters. Your cheeks blush.

And you’re lonely.

Your attempt to move on totally failed, and here’s John trying to cheer you up. Maybe that was a sign from the universe.

“John…”

“M’sorry,” John says. “I didn’t mean to… to cross any boundaries.”

You chew your bottom lip a bit as you weigh your options.

“Still with me, lovey?”

“Uh-huh…”

You could practically hear the smirk in John’s voice as he spoke next. “No words, hm? What’s on your mind, then?”

“Just… thinking.”

“Thinkin’ about..?” You swear John’s voice just got huskier, more sultry than it was just a moment ago. You feel goosebumps as you hear John exhale, seemingly shifting into a more comfortable position on the couch. “What has you thinking so hard?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” John grins to himself. “Hope it’s not that fuckin’ dickhead who stood you up.”

“No… not him.” You speak softly.

“Someone else, then?”

You roll your eyes, knowing that John is fishing for a specific answer. “Wouldn’t you love to know, Johnathan.”

“Bet I could guess,” He’s smirking, you know he is.

You sit up, kick your heels off and toss your dress towards the hamper. “Bet you’d be right.”

“Why don’t you come over then, lovey?” John practically purrs. You can’t see it, but John’s rubbing a hand over his inner thigh, palming himself over his grey sweatpants. “Could cheer ya up.”

“Yeah?” You sigh, your hand not holding the phone moving dangerously close to the dampness between your legs.

“Yeah,” John whimpers whispers. “Make ya forget all about that fuckin’ Jake…”

You freeze. You remove your hand from your panties. You sit up fully in the bed.

“What did you say?”

“Hm?”

Your eyes narrow. “I never told you what his name was.”

John’s eyes widen. He sits up as well, clearing his throat. “Sure you did, you- you said it was Jake o-or Joe or something-“

“I can’t fucking believe you.” You scoff, ending the call.

John tosses his phone to the floor, rubbing a hand over his face.

Fuck.

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day eighteen

prompt: space pairing: lando/oscar, brief oscar/oc word count: 950w

“Your problem,” Thomas emphasizes, “Is that you’re always fucking hovering.”

Oscar’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, tea towel in hand. “Oh,” he says.

“I can do the fucking dishes, okay? And I can make my own food and I can get my own drinks and I don’t need you to fucking do everything for me all the time,” Thomas goes on. Clearly this is something that’s been bothering him for a while, and it all comes pouring out.

“I just. I just wanted to help,” Oscar says, feeling a bit ridiculous now, slowly putting the tea towel back on the hook.

“Right, yeah. You always just want to fucking help,” Thomas rolls his eyes. They’ve only been dating for a few weeks now, but Oscar thought it was going pretty great, all things considered. But maybe. Maybe not. “I’m not a fucking baby, Oscar. You don’t have to fucking do everything for me all the time.” Thomas slams his hand down on the counter and then yells out a loud “FUCK” when he accidentally cuts his hand open on a discarded knife.

“Shit, let me-“ Oscar starts, reaching forward to take Thomas’s hand, to inspect the wound, but Thomas jerks away before he gets a chance.

“This if what I fucking mean, Jesus,” he spits. “Always fucking hovering, always needing to do everything. I wish you would just give me some fucking space.”

“Oh,” Oscar says, takes a step back. “I mean. If that’s what you want.”

Thomas is glaring at him over his cut hand. “That’s what I want,” he says. The cut doesn’t look bad, at least. Oscar still wishes Thomas would let him look at it. Run it under cold water, at least.

“Okay,” he says, and then turns and leaves the apartment before Thomas can see him cry.

--

It’s fucking. It’s stupid, anyway. It’s not like he really thought him and Thomas were like. Going to make the distance. Get married, have kids, all that. But it was nice. It had been nice.

Except. Except apparently it hadn’t been. Apparently Thomas had been annoyed with him this whole time.

Oscar makes his way into his own apartment, falls back against the door, takes a deep, shaking breath. It’s late, late enough that Lando might already be asleep, so he quietly takes off his jacket, throws it on the jacket pile, takes off his shoes, throws them on the shoe pile.

He stands there, for a few seconds, contemplates what to do, wonders if it would be weird to have a little cry in the entry way, wonders if they still have ice cream. He deserves some ice cream, he thinks.

“Oscar?” He suddenly hears from the living room. “Is that you?”

Ah. So not asleep then. “Yeah,” he yells back. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Lando appears in the doorway then, confused look on his face. “Hey, you’re early, I thought you were sleeping over at-“ He pauses, takes in Oscar no doubt pathetic state. He hasn’t checked the mirror but he’s pretty sure his eyes are still a little red and puffy from the stupid cry he had on the way back to the apartment, and his hair is probably a mess from running his hand through it over and over and he can’t quite manage a smile. “Shit, dude, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Oscar says, because like. He really shouldn’t be dumping his stupid relationship problems on his flat mate at like. 12 at night.

“Hey, no, none of that,” Lando says, frowning at him. “Come on, get on the couch, tell me what happened.”

Lando wanders back into the living room then, and Oscar can do nothing but follow him. “We uh. We broke up.” Oscar says, when Lando has snuggled back into the little blanket mound he’d created for himself on the couch. “I think.”

Lando frowns. “You think?”

“He said he needed space. He said some other not so nice things. I don’t think. I mean. I don’t really want to uh. Get back together,” Oscar says. Not when he’s constantly going to feel like he’s walking on egg shells. Not when every time he tries to do something nice he’s going to get scolded.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lando says.

Oscar lets his head drop back against the back of the couch. “It’s fine, it’s. It was never going to work out anyway, so.”

“But it still sucks.” Lando says, nodding. “How about this, there’s still ice cream in the fridge, why don’t we go get that, and then we put on a movie and you join me in this wonderful pile of blankets and we forget all about stupid Tim.”

“Thomas,” Oscar says, automatically. “Yeah, okay, I. Yeah, sure.”

“Great! But you’re going to have to get the ice cream because I’m already cozy,” Lando says, snuggling ever so closer in his blanket fort. “Oh, actually, if you’re in the kitchen anyway, would you mind making me a cup of tea? Please? It’s just, you always get the ratio’s just right and I always end up adding either too much milk or too little and I just. Please?” Lando looks up at him with big eyes, adds in a pout for good measure.

“Yeah, sure,” Oscar says. “No problem.”

“You’re the best, Osc,” Lando beams at him.

So he gets Lando his tea, and the ice cream, and he crawls under the blankets, Lando letting out a happy noise and immediately wrapping himself around Oscar, resting his head on Oscar’s chest, no space between them at all, and Oscar can’t help but think this.

This is how it should be.

[bruciemilf]

There's something deeply touching about Jason knowing he'll never be the kid Bruce saved again, but still maintaining some quirks, mannerisms, habits, pieces of young Jason Todd. They're small but cut deep.

Jason, when he allows himself to stay at the manor as a tiny indulgence, still acts like there's a barrier of lasers protecting Alfred's cookie jar, just so he and Dick would have an excuse to compare leaps.

He's still waiting for the lights to fall asleep so he could visit the library and get angry at Tim, or Bruce, or both, twins in audacity, for dig earing the pages they knew he'd read.

Of course Bruce finds him because he always looks for him, ridiculously fluffy pink robe that Selina bought him sagging on him.

He ignores the ball of sadness exploding in his stomach as he realizes Bruce is the one looking up at him now. It feels like a robbery, premeditated and calculated, " Jaylad, you have to nap."

" Bruce, I am a grown ass man, you cannot fucking tell me to NAP--"

There's an unspoken type of authority that surrounds gentle parents. Is Bruce a gentle parent? Well. He doesn’t need to hit Jason to get what he wants, that's for sure, " Excuse me?"

"...Just one more page?"

Bruce is also very weak for them, thought. "..Fine. don't tell Alfred."

When Dick proudly shows off his patrol record for the week, all preppy and shiny besides Bruce at the kitchen table, Jason hears it all the way from the couch.

Damian is a very sore loser when it comes to Mario Kart, he learned, " Todd! TODD! Come back here and taste DEFEAT! FIGHT ME LIKE A WOMAN, COWARD!"

" So yeah, 40 arrests are pretty good, I'd say,--"

" 40? That's adorable, I got 70. On a broken leg."

Bruce, suddenly spooked, turns to him, " You had your leg broken on patrol?!"

" A broken leg? Awwww. Killer Crock almost bit my face off, but hey. Nice of you to try."

"Waylon bit you?!"

" At least I'm not a COP!"

" YOU'RE STILL A COP?!"

" I'm working on it, okay?!"

But the biggest thing? Jason's so unflinchingly clingy on Bruce; When they first meet this 'Justice League' Batman joined, Jason requested to be there. A robin caricature, but he doesn't trust any of them.

Aside from Diana. Diana's always the exceptions.

" This is Superman, " Bruce may think that little blush goes unnoticed, but it certainly doesn't. " And this is my ba-- This is Red Hood. I trust him with my life."

Don't cry don't cry don't cry Jason chants in his head.

Superman extends his hand and a honey sunshine smile, " Red Hood?! Oh, I've heard so much about you. We have to work together sometime. Share stories about this one here."

He heard about the guy's X Ray vision. He hopes that if he does take a peek, he sees the sinister pull of grin on his lips, all teeth and no niceness, " I'm more of a hugger."

" Oh. Uh... Sure. I love hugs."

Jason makes sure to whisper, " He doesn't kill but I do," before pulling away. Then he turns to Bruce, going from standing at his full height to relaxing a little bit,

" I want bat burgers on the way."

Bruce hums and signals for him to lean down to get his head petted. Jason does. Even if he's embarassed.

[kenacoki]

After Nightfall

// Pairing // Eddie Diaz x GN!Reader

// Request // Y/n has a nightmare about Eddie dying and wakes up scared which accidentally wakes Eddie up. She reverts into flight mode and runs out of the house and Eddie runs after her. She runs into an alleyway and starts crying and Eddie finds her and comforts her.

// Word Count // 7k

// Warnings // mentions of death and blood

// Dividers // sister-lucifer

As you walk through the front door into Eddie’s house, you set your bags on the floor, “You really didn’t have to do this, Ed’s. I-I coulda got a hotel room or something until they get the gas leak fixed in my apartment.”

Eddie shakes his head, closing the door behind you and locking it. He turns to face you, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Don’t worry, it’s no problem.” He averts his attention to the small boy sitting on the couch. “Besides, you know how much I-Chris—How much Christopher loves having you around.” The tips of his ears flush red with embarrassment at his almost slip-up.

You smile at his words, thoughts of his adorable son bringing you a sense of comfort. He takes a step closer, his eyes studying your face closely.

“And besides, you know I’d never let you pay for a hotel room when you could just stay here instead.”

You can feel your face heat up slightly, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you at his words. You know he’s just being friendly, but there’s a hint of something else in his eyes that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I...I just don’t want to impose or anything…” you nervously mutter.

Eddie chuckles softly, his expression growing a bit softer, “You’re not imposing, you know that. Besides,” His deep honey-colored eyes pierce into yours, “I like knowing you’re here…close by.”

His words send a flutter through your stomach. You’re not sure what it is, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel almost giddy.

He continues into his kitchen, opening his fridge and scanning the shelves. “You hungry for anything particular?”

You follow him into the kitchen, your (e/c) eyes taking in the familiar small space. It’s cozy and comfortable, just like the rest of his little home. You lean against the counter, folding your arms over your chest as you shake your head.

“Not really, just something small is fine..“ you reply a bit absentmindedly, still a bit distracted by his words from before and the fluttering in your stomach. You snap your attention over to Christopher, “What about you, Chris?”

Eddie rummages through his fridge for a moment before pulling out a Tupperware of leftovers and placing it on the counter. He smiles, his eyes sparkling with a sort of fond excitement at the mention of his son.

“Actually, he’s spending the night with a new friend, a kid named Dustin. They met a few days ago and practically bonded instantly. I swear, those two are like peas in a pod..” he chuckles softly, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

“Sounds like about like you and Buck…” you joke, glancing back at the small boy on the couch.

Eddie smiles, a sly twinkle in his eyes at your comment. He leans against the counter next to you, nodding slightly in agreement.

“Yeah, maybe a little. Except I’m smarter than Buck so...” he says jokingly, his teasing tone playful.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes at his comment. You know he’s just teasing, but you can’t help but banter back.

“Oh yeah, says who?” You challenge, your eyes flickering to his, a small smile on your face.

He grins, enjoying the playful back-and-forth. He leans in a bit closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Says me,” he retorts, his tone confident and sure. He pauses for a moment before adding, “And also Buck. He’s admitted multiple times that I’m the smarter one.”

You snort, shaking your head in amused disbelief.

“Yeah right, I’m sure he said that..” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You know Buck all too well and know for a fact that he would never admit Eddie is smarter than him; even if it was partly true.

You watch as he opens up the leftover container and grabs two bowls from a shelf in his cabinet. He grabs a spoon and evenly divides the food into each one.

He hands over one of the bowls, your fingers just barely brushing against his. For a brief moment, your eyes lock, and for a second you swear you see a tiny flash of something in his gaze. However, it’s gone in an instant, quickly replaced by his usual playful confidence.

“Oh, believe me, he did.” He says, a hint of pride in his tone. “He’s just too stubborn to admit it in front of anyone else.”

Taking the bowl from him, you roll your eyes once more. But can’t help the smile that sneaks onto your face at his insistence. There’s just something so undeniably charming about his confidence, his ability to banter back and forth with you like this…

“Alright, whatever you say, Ed’s. Just don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

He chuckles, grabbing his own bowl and joining you at the counter. He raises his bowl slightly in a mock “cheers” gesture.

“No promises.” He says, his tone jokingly cocky. He takes a bite of his food, a satisfied hum leaving his lips at the taste. He eyes you from the side, a sly smile on his face.

Chuckling slightly, you shake your head at his smugness. You take a bite of the food, mirroring his satisfied hum. The food is actually pretty damn good, just the right amount of spices and seasonings.

“what is this?” You question, slightly muffled by the food in your mouth.

He grins, taking another bite before replying, “It’s something my abuela used to make,” he says, fondly recalling a memory. “It’s a sort of chicken and rice dish with this secret blend of spices. I’ve gotten pretty good at it if I do say so myself.”

There’s a hint of pride in his voice as he explains.

Humming in approval, you take another bite. It really is good, and the fact that it’s something his abuela used to make makes it taste even more special.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s an understatement,” your mouth still half full as you speak. You swallow before continuing, “This is really good, Ed’s. I’m impressed.”

Eddie has a tiny smile on his face as you praise his cooking. He seems almost shy as he ducks his head slightly, a small blush appearing on his cheeks.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice suddenly a bit bashful. He takes another bite, trying to hide his slight embarrassment.

There’s a knock at the door, Eddie sets his bowl down on the counter, “That must be Dustin’s parents. Let me grab Christopher’s stuff real fast.”

You nod, finishing the last bite of your food. You set the bowl down on the counter next to his, watching as he heads down the hallway toward Christopher’s room.

After a moment of silence, you can hear snippets of their conversation through the house as Eddie greets Dustin’s parent and hands them Christopher’s bags.

“I love you, bud…” your heart swells as you hear Eddie say goodbye to his son for night. They exchange their thanks and leave, saying their goodbyes to Eddie as they do so.

Hearing the front door close, Eddie reappears in the kitchen after a few moments. He looks a bit distracted though, leaning back against the counter and letting out a small melancholy sigh.

You study him momentarily, noticing the slight shift in his demeanor. You’re not sure what’s on his mind, but you can tell something’s off.

“Everything okay?” You ask him, your voice soft and concerned.

He seems surprised by your question as if he had been lost in his own thoughts for a second.

“Hm?” He hums, blinking a few times before his brain catches up. “Oh.. yeah, I’m fine…Just-just lost in thought for a moment, is all.”

You eye him doubtfully, clearly not entirely convinced by his response.

“Are you sure?” You question a hint of worry still in evident your tone. You lean against the counter next to him, studying his face closely in an attempt to read his expression.

He flashes a faint, reassuring smile, trying to downplay whatever is going on in his head. But his eyes give away his true thoughts, the slight unease and tension still lingering in their depths.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry about it.” He says, his voice sounding almost forced. He notices that your bowl is nowempty and grabs it, turning around and placing it in his sink.

You don’t quite buy his response, not fooled by his attempt at nonchalance. But you can tell he’s not in the mood to share or talk about what’s going on in that head of his, so you decide not to press him too much.

Nodding slightly you just hum in acknowledgment, suppressing any remaining suspicion. Eddie quickly changes the subject.

“Hey, you want to watch a movie or something?”

You can tell he’s trying to deflect and change the subject from what’s going on in his head, but decide to let it slide for now.

“Sure, yeah. What do you have in mind?”

He grins, his eyes lighting up slightly.

“How about a horror movie?” he suggests a hint of mischief in his voice.

You let out a small scoff, immediately catching on to his game. You narrow your eyes at him, a scowl forming on your face.

“Very funny, Eddie.” You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a disapproving look.

He grins innocently, the mischief now clear in his eyes. He knows the effect movies like that have on you, and he revels in it.

“What? I’m just asking a simple question..” he says, feigning ignorance. He leans a bit closer, his tone becoming more teasing. “Scared you won’t be able to handle it?”

You glare at him, the annoyance evident on your face. Damn him for always finding ways to tease and rile you up like this…

“Oh, please. I can handle a damn movie, no problem.” You practically growl out, your pride taking over. You strut over to the couch and plop down.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying how easily he’s getting under your skin. He follows you over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, still grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“If you say so.” He replies, his tone still playful and smug. He grabs the remote off the coffee table and scrolls through the movie selection. “Any particular one you want me to put on? Or should I pick?”

You roll your eyes, not even dignifying his smugness with a response. You can already tell he’s going to pick the most horrifying movie possible, just to mess with you.

“You pick.” You dramatically grumble, your voice filled with both annoyance and a hint of resignation.

His grin widens at the response, clearly overjoyed at the opportunity to pick something that’s going to make you squirm. He continues browsing through the selection for a few moments before stopping on a particularly scary-looking movie.

“What about this one?” he holds up the remote and points it at the TV. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, a sly smile still plastered on his face.

Looking at the TV, your eyes widen as they skim over the screen. As soon as you catch sight of the movie title, a shiver runs down your spine.

“No way,” you say, voice firm and resolute.

He feigns shock at my refusal, his brown eyes widening, “What, why not? It looks like a good one...” he says, his tone overly innocent. He turns to you, his eyes practically glittering with mischief.

“You’re not really scared, are you?”

You scoff, annoyance growing with every word that leaves his mouth. You can practically see the taunting gleam in his eyes, and it only irritates you further.

“Of course, I’m not scared.” You quip back, voice full of faux confidence. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that the movie is actually terrifying.

He smirks, clearly not buying my act for even a second. But he plays along anyway, his voice dripping with faux concern, “You’re not going to get nightmares, are you?”

Your (e/c) eyes playfully glare at him, your irritation continuing to rise.

“Oh, please. I don’t get nightmares from stupid movies, dumbass. And even if I did, I’d just wake up from it. No big deal…” You retort your tone laced with annoyance.

You yank the remote from his hand and press play, sinking back further into the couch.

He lets out a soft laugh at your display of defiance, clearly amused by your stubbornness. He watches the TV as the movie starts to play, his gaze occasionally flickering back towards you. His eyes sparkle with a hint of anticipation.

“Whatever you say,” he responds, his mocking tone making it clear that he doesn’t believe you.

The movie continues, and you keep your focus strictly on the screen, refusing to give Eddie the satisfaction of seeing you scared.

As the movie progresses, the tension in the room thickens, almost palpably. Despite the gore occurring on screen, you force yourself to keep up a neutral expression.

However, as the movie becomes more and more intense, your heart rate quickens ever so slightly.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie notices the slight shift in your demeanor.

He sees the way your body tenses up as the movie becomes more intense, the subtle clench of your jaw as the suspense builds. But he doesn’t say anything, not yet anyway. He just continues to watch you closely, waiting for the moment when you finally crack.

As the movie's plot takes a particularly sinister turn, the tension in your body reaches its peak. Your fingers grip the edge of the couch tightly as your heart beats faster and faster, the sound of it thumping loudly in your ears. You try your best to keep up the facade, to keep a stoic expression. But as the movie gets progressively more horrifying, you can feel your resolve starting to waver—

“Boo…” Eddie's breath fans against your ear.

You nearly jump out of your skin at his sudden voice. Your heartbeat practically shoots through the roof. A surprised squeak escapes your lips before you can stop it, your body jolting forward instinctively.

"Jesus Christ!" You yell, your voice a mixture of fear and annoyance as you turn to glare at him. “Don't do that!"

He grins at your reaction, clearly relishing in the fact that he’s successfully scared you. He chuckles softly, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement, "I Couldn't help myself."

“You..you’re an ass sometimes.” You swiftly reach over and mess up his hair, teasing him playfully.

He gives a faux indignant scoff, attempting to look offended by my words, but the grin on his face betrays his true amusement. As you mess up his hair, he laughs softly, trying to duck away from your hand.

“Hey, hey!” He protests in a mock-upset tone, playfully batting your hand away. “Watch it. You’ll mess up my hair.”

Hearing his somewhat dramatic response to your little attack, you can't help but chuckle in response. You know he's just messing around.

"Oh, right. My bad. Can't have that perfect hair getting messed up, can we?" You tease, voice dripping with sarcastic sympathy as you ruffle his hair up even more.

Eddie laughs again as you mess up his hair, the gesture sending his bangs falling across his forehead in a disheveled mess. He tries to feign annoyance again, but the laughter keeps slipping out. He lifts his hand to try and fix his hair, but it's no use. You’ve completely ruined the carefully-styled look he had going on, and he knows it.

However, after you playfully mess it up with your fingers, it becomes more tousled and disheveled, sticking up in a way that somehow makes him look even more ruggedly handsome. A hint of annoyance flashes in his eyes as he quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to smooth it back down, but he can't quite hide the amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It’s quite a contrast from his usual meticulously-styled look, but somehow it suits him just as much. Despite the slightly ridiculous appearance, he still looks effortlessly attractive.

“You look like a freaking mess now.” You comment, a playful grin on your face.

He rolls his eyes, but the laughter still tumbles from his lips. He gives you a half-hearted glare, pretending to be irritated by the comment, but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Gee, thanks. You really know how to flatter a guy, don’t you?” He retorts, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

You give an exaggerated shrug as your grin widens.

“What can I say? I’m just that good.” You slyly tease as you lean back further into the couch. Your eyes grow heavy as they look at the clock on the wall.

Eddie shakes his head in mock exasperation, still trying and failing to fix his hair. He glances over at the clock as well, his own eyes growing a bit heavy.

“It’s getting late.” He yawns out, the corners of his eyes crinkling up.

You nod in agreement, a small yawn of your own escaping your lips once again. Carefully, you stretch your arms above your head, your muscles protesting at the motion. As you do this, the hem of your shirt rides up an inch, exposing a sliver of bare skin.

“Yeah, it is.” You agree, voice a bit groggy. You lean your head back against the couch, eyes fluttering slightly. “Maybe we should get some sleep..”

Eddie notices your exposed skin as you stretch, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before he quickly averts his eyes. He clears his throat softly, trying to distract himself from the sight. He nods in agreement with your suggestion.

“Yeah, you’re right. We should get some sleep..” He agrees, his voice tinged with weariness.

You notice his brief glance at you, but as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone again. It makes you feel strangely self-conscious for a moment, but you shake off the feeling quickly. You’re both tired, it's probably nothing.

The movie on the TV continues to play in the background, but neither of you is paying attention to it anymore. It’s mostly just white noise now. Eddie stands up from the couch, his body stiff from sitting for so long.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth and stuff…” He says, stifling a yawn with his hand. “Goodnight.

“Okay…” you call out, voice soft and groggy with the need for sleep. You watch as he heads off down the hallway towards the bathroom. Letting out a small yawn, the exhaustion from the day finally starts to get to me.

“Night…” You mutter, your words slurring together slightly in your sleepy state. Slowly, you head down the hall to Eddie’s guest bedroom.

After a few minutes, Eddie returns from the bathroom, now clad in a pair of pajama pants. His hair is still messy from earlier, the strands sticking out every which way. He makes his way down the hallway to his own room and crawls into bed, the exhaustion now taking over as he closes his eyes and drifts off into sleep.

Carefully, you crawl into the bed and pull the covers up to your chin as darkness starts creeping into your vision.

The soft, welcoming embrace of sleep begins to envelop you, as the fatigue of the day starts to take over. You feel yourself begin to sink into the bed, the mattress molding perfectly to your form. Your thoughts slowly start to dissolve as sleep finally pulls you under. You can feel your eyelids closing as your mind begins to slip into unconsciousness.

The gentle sounds of night filter in through the window, the crickets singing their melodic lullaby. The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the room, creating a peaceful, calming atmosphere.

As you sink deeper and deeper into sleep, your mind begins to wander, slowly losing touch with reality. Your breathing slows, and your body grows heavy and relaxed. The world around you fades away, your mind drifting off into a dream, blending reality and fantasy into a vivid, surreal world.

When your eyes open again, one thing is for sure; you’re inside your apartment; more specifically your living room. You can practically smell the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air from earlier in the day. The furniture is exactly where you left it, nothing amiss. The room is silent and still causing an uneasy feeling to form in your gut.

Walking further into the apartment, your footsteps echo softly throughout the quiet space. You glance around as you move towards the kitchen, your steps getting more cautious. There’s a small part of your mind that’s screaming at you, telling you that something's wrong, that this isn’t right.

Entering the space, your eyes scan the room for anything out of place. Your breath hitches in your throat as you see the silhouette of a man behind your kitchen island.

“Eddie…?” The figure whips around. They look exactly like Eddie, down to every last detail. Their clothes, their hair, even the faint scruff on their jaw.

You freeze in place, your heart nearly stopping as you take in the person standing in front of you.

“Wha-how…how did you—how did we get here? I thought we were at—”

“Shhhh..”

Your heartbeat quickens in your chest, the fear starting to take over. You take a small backward step, your wide (e/c) eyes locked on the figure in front of you.

He takes a step closer to you, his gaze fixed on you. The gesture is so familiar, mirroring the way Eddie moves and acts so perfectly it’s almost eerie.

“Why…why didn’t you help?” He questions, a twisted smile on his face.

His words send a shiver down your spine, your blood turning cold. The smile on his face is almost sinister, a sharp contrast to how Eddie usually smiles.

“What?” You manage to croak out, your voice coming out small and afraid.

He takes another step towards you, his footsteps silent on the floor. He moves unnaturally as if he’s simply gliding across the room. Your heartbeat thumps loudly in your ears as he gets closer, every one of your instincts telling you to run.

“Why didn’t you help me?” He repeats, his tone cold and curt.

Hearing his repeated question, a wave of confusion washes over you. Help who? Him? You lost, unsure of what he’s talking about.

“H-help—Eddie what are you talking…” you trail off, your voice hoarse with fear as you notice a tiny, almost missable stain on his shirt.

Then slowly, almost tauntingly, a sickening pool of crimson starts to spread across and stain the shoulder of Eddie’s grey shirt.

The sight of the red stain sends a jolt of fear through you, your eyes fixed on the growing spot of blood as it spreads across his shirt… just like when he was shot by the sniper.

He doesn’t seem to realize it’s there, or he just doesn’t care. He keeps moving forward, closing the space between you.

A million thoughts run through your head, each one more terrifying than the last. You try to back away further, but you can’t seem to move your feet. It’s as if you’ve been frozen in place, trapped under his intense gaze.

“Eddie..” you manage to whisper out, your voice barely a hoarse whisper. “What’s happening?”

He smiles again, the expression sending another wave of chills down your spine. He stops moving, standing just a few feet away from you. His gaze scans over your form, taking in every detail.

The intensity of his gaze causes you to shrink in on yourself, your body instinctively trying to make yourself smaller. The urge to run away is stronger than ever.

“Please,” you plead, voice shaking as you try to keep yourself together. “please wake up…please wake up.”

He seems to find the request amusing, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. It sounds like Eddie’s laugh, but there’s an undertone of malice in it

“Wake up?” He says, his tone almost mocking as he takes another step towards you. “But aren’t you already awake?”

Abruptly, he grabs your hand and brings it against his damp shoulder, staining your hand a crimson red

Gasping, you can feel the sticky, warm liquid against your palm and fingers as you're forced to touch it, the feeling causing a wave of nausea to wash over you

“No...no this isn’t real.” You mumble, denial and disbelief warring with each other.

once again you attempt to wrench your hand away from his grasp, to break free, but he holds it firmly in place. He keeps it planted against his shoulder, forcing her to feel the blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

“Isn’t real?” He replies, his tone almost mocking as he speaks. “Looks real to me.”

He glances down at the stain on his shirt, acting as if he’s just noticed it for the first time. His brown eyes widen in horror as he looks back at you before collapsing to the floor of your apartment.

“Eddie!” You scream, your knees hitting the floor as you crumble beside him.

Blood pools on the floor beneath him, seeping out from the bullet wound in his shoulder, staining the wooden floor a sickening shade of red. His face is twisted in agony, a silent scream caught in his throat as his body tremors uncontrollably. Despite your best efforts, it's clear that he's fighting a losing battle, his strength and resilience gradually being overpowered by the onslaught of pain and injury.

“G-Get up! Eddie…” The sight of him lying there on the floor in agony, his life slowly slipping away, sends a wave of anguish through your heart.

Your hands shake as you try to stop the flow of blood oozing from his shoulder. You can see the life slowly draining from his eyes, the light fading as he struggles to stay conscious. His breath comes out in shallow, ragged gasps, each oneweaker than the last. It's like watching a slow, torturous countdown, every tick of the clock bringing him closer to the end.

“Eddie!” Your body jerks up in the guest bed as you’re snapped out of the horrible nightmare.

Panting heavily, your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. You look around the room in a panic, trying to make sense of your surroundings. It’s dark, but you can see the familiar contour of Eddie’s furniture in the room.

You sit there for a few more moments, trying to slow your racing heart. The nightmare had been so vivid, so realistic…you can still practically feel the blood on your hand, the wetness, the warmth of it.

You can’t help but shudder at the memory, wiping your hand furiously on the blanket as if trying to rid yourself of the phantom sensation.

Still slightly disoriented, you stagger up from the bed. Flinging open the bedroom door, you practically stumble out into the hall. Your body still shakes slightly from the after-effects of the nightmare. You can still see the image of it fresh in your mind…

Logic tells you that the nightmare isn’t real, that it was just a fear-fueled dream, but the fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins makes it difficult to think straight. The silence of the apartment is almost deafening in your heightened state.

“I-I can’t be here…” It feels like you can’t breathe like the air is suddenly too thin as panic starts setting in. The fear coursing through you outweighs your common sense. Your brain tells you that you need to get out of here.

“Mmm..? (Y/N)…?” The sound of Eddie’s voice jolts you out of your panic for a moment. Whirling around, your gaze lands on Eddie as he emerges from his bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he yawns. “What are you doing?”

He’s clad in a pair of grey pajama pants, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looks tired and disoriented, his eyes half-lidded as he takes in the sight of you.

You feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sight of him standing there safe and unharmed fills you with a sense of peace. However, the fear from the nightmare is still there, lurking in the back of your mind.

You struggle to find your voice, your throat dry and constricted.

“I-I’m sorry…” You fling open the front door, the warm night air engulfing you as you take off down the sidewalk.

Eddie is taken completely off guard by your hasty exit, his sleep-addled mind trying to process what just happened. He stands there at the door for a moment, dumbfounded and disoriented.

It takes him a few moments to snap out of his stupor, his tiredness instantly replaced with worry once he realizes that you’ve left.

“Wait…!” He calls out, stumbling out the door after you.

He struggles to keep up with you, his tired legs slower than yours. He tries to call your name again, but he’s out of breath from running, the words coming out as more of a gasp.

“(Y/n) wait, stop-!” He manages to catch up to you, reaching out to grab your arm.

You flinch at the feel of his hand on your arm, it can’t help but remind you of the nightmare…but in the back of your mind, you know it’s just Eddie.

Your Eddie.

Halting, you tear your arm away from his grasp, whipping around to face him.

He’s breathing heavily, his face flush from the short run. He looks at you with confusion-filled eyes, bewildered by your sudden exit and the look of fear etched on your face.

“What the hell’s wrong…?” He pants out, trying to catch his breath.

You look at him for a moment, the fear and panic still lingering in your eyes. The words spill out before you can stop them.

“I-I had a nightmare..” you stammer out, voice trembling slightly as you force yourself to continue “About…you.”

Your voice softens at the last few words, guilt seeping into your tone. You feel bad for just tearing out of his house in the middle of the night.

He looks down at you, his expression still confused and a bit bewildered. He runs a hand through his messy hair, processing her words.

“About me…?” He asks, the confusion evident in his voice. He doesn’t look angry or offended, just curious.

Your lip quivers as you avert your gaze down to the cracked sidewalk, “Back…Back when you were shot by the sniper.”

Recognition flickers across his features as you mention the sniper, his body tensing slightly. He’s silent for a moment, his expression turning into a grimace as he remembers the painful memory.

“Oh..” He mutters, his voice low.

He reaches a hand up to rub the spot on his shoulder where the sniper had shot him, a ghost of pain flaring up temporarily. The gesture seems involuntary, almost like an instinctual reflex.

“Yeah…that was a pretty shitty experience.” He mutters, his tone dry and humorless.

A pang of guilt shoots through you as you watch him rub his shoulder. You hadn’t meant to bring up the painful memory, you’d just blurted out the first thing that came to your mind.

Fidgeting under his gaze, you shift awkwardly where you stand. With your (e/c) eyes filled with hot tears, you keep your attention fixated on the ground; you don’t want Eddie to see you in this state.

He looks at you, surprise flickering across his face for a brief moment at your apology. He shakes his head “Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.” He replies, his tone softer than before.

You know that, but still, “I know it’s not..but…but the nightmare…” you trail off, struggling to put your thoughts into words.

He lets out a deep sigh, his expression turning sympathetic. He takes a step closer to you, his gaze fixed on your face.

“Hey, it was just a dream…” He says gently, gesturing to himself as if to prove his point. Exhaling, He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it above his shoulders.

before you can process what he’s doing, the sight of his bare chest stops all thoughts in their tracks. Even in the low lighting, you can make out the definition of his muscles, and the smoothness of his skin.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes widening slightly as you stare at his exposed skin. You can feel your heartbeat quicken again, the sight of his bare chest sending a wave of heat through your body.

He seems completely oblivious to your reaction, his attention focused on his shoulder as he turns to point out the healed bullet wound left behind by the sniper.

You can see the pink puckered skin, the evidence of the traumatic injury marring his flawless skin. The sight of it only increases the guilt that’s already churning in your gut.

“I’m fine, see?”

Swallowing, you try to compose yourself as you force yourself to speak again.

“Y-yeah, I see it...” you try to keep your tone even. However, your voice still wavers, showing the effect of Eddie’s actions.

He lowers his shirt back down, his attention returning to your face. He studies you for a moment, a hint of concern in his gaze as he notices the way you’re staring at him, the way your voice trembles.

He takes a step closer to her, “Hey, it’s okay, alright? I’m fine. That’s all in the past now..” He mutters gently, his tone soothing.

Nodding, you look back down at the cracked sidewalk.

He reaches out and places his hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and gentle. He speaks softly, his voice laced with concern.

“Hey, look at me.”

Slowly, you peer up at Eddie through your eyelashes. The feeling of his hand on your skin is almost grounding, bringing a small comfort in the torrent of emotions that you’re drowning in.

Tenderly, he pulls you into a safe, secure hug.

As he pulls you against his chest, you can feel the warmth of his skin through the thin shirt. The feeling of his body pressed against yours causes goosebumps to prickle your skin.

He rests his chin on top of your head, his grip around you tightening as he holds you close.

Your bottom lip trembles as Eddie's words sink in. Every gentle stroke of his hand, every soothing word he speaks, chips away at the barriers you’ve built around your heart, leaving you raw and vulnerable in a way you’re not used to. You can't hold back the tears any longer, the dam breaking as a choked sob escapes your lips.

Every soothing word he whispers in your ear, every gentle touch he uses to comfort you, only serves to make you cry harder. Your emotions completely overwhelmed by the love and tenderness.

Your body shakes with sobs, your tears soaking through Eddie's shirt, leaving small damp patches against his skin. You cling to him like a lifeline, your fingers digging into his back as you try to hold back the flood of tears.

Eventually, you let yourself relax into his embrace. The steady beat of his heart under your ear is soothing, the sound chasing away the residual fear from the nightmare.

Eddie says nothing. His fingers gently glide up and down your back in a soothing motion, his touch comforting. He can feel your body relax against his, the tension slowly draining from your muscles as you sink into his embrace.

“C’mon, let's head back…”

You nod against his chest, not ready to break away from his embrace quite yet. When you finally do break away from his embrace, you can’t help the pang of disappointment that shoots through you. You look up at him, your (e/c) eyes locking onto his.

There’s no anger visible in his eyes, no trace of annoyance or irritation, just concern and gentle affection as he gazes down at you.

He reaches out a hand, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

The feel of his fingertips on your skin causes a small gasp to escape your lips. It’s such a simple, innocent gesture, but it’s enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

Eddie’s fingers linger on your face, tracing a slow path down your jawline. His touch is incredibly gentle, but it sets your skin on fire.

He leans down a presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes widen at the feel of his lips against your skin, your body responding involuntarily to his touch. The kiss is brief and gentle, but it’s enough to send a wave of heat coursing through your body, your heart skipping a beat in your chest.

You let out a small, shaky sigh as Eddie intertwines his fingers with yours, his grip warm and firm. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his touch sending another wave of heat through your body.

He leads you back to his house, walking slowly alongside you. He glances down every now and then, his gaze filled with affection.

As you reach the front door of his house, the soft glow from the porch light washes over the two of you. He pauses for a moment, reaching down and brushing a strand of hair out of your face once again.

“You okay now..?” His voice is soft, almost inaudible as he speaks

Nodding, your heart pounds wildly in your chest as his fingers brush against your skin. You meet his gaze, your chest flooding with a confusing mixture of emotions—

Comfort…

Desire…

Longing…

He looks down at you, his gaze scanning your face. It’s as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. He can see the emotions swirling in your eyes, a mix of confusion and desire that’s almost palpable in the air. It’s a familiar feeling, something he’s felt himself on occasion.

He lets out a soft, ragged breath, his heart rate increasing slightly.

You look up at him, noticing the way his breathing has quickened, the way his heart is beating a little faster in his chest.

It’s a subtle change, but it’s enough to send a spark of hope through you.

Taking a small step forward, your body moves closer to his on instinct, the need to be close to him growing too strong to resist.

Eddie swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Your proximity is intoxicating, your mere presence sending his senses into overdrive.

He tries to keep his composure, but it’s a losing battle. His gaze wanders down to your plump lips, his eyes lingering on them for a moment, his thoughts racing with a thousand sinful ideas.

You notice the way he’s looking at you, the heat in his gaze sending a jolt of electricity straight down your spine. You can see the desire in his eyes, the barely restrained need written all over his face.

“Eddie...?” You look up at him through half-lidded eyes, your breath coming out a soft, ragged gasp.

He swallows hard, your soft gasp sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel your body pressed up against his, the heat of your skin radiating through his shirt.

“Yeah..?” His voice comes out in a low, rough whisper, the word carrying the weight of all the desire he’s been holding back.

“Kiss me again.”

His breath hitches at the words, the pure need in your voice sending a wave of heat coursing through his body. He looks down at you, his gaze fixed on your lips, your flushed face, your stunning (e/c) eyes.

He reaches out, cusping your face in his hands, his touch gentle and firm at the same time. He leans down, his lips hovering just above yours.

“Please…” That’s all Eddie needs, crashing his lips against yours.

You sigh into the kiss, It’s gentle and tender, soft and sweet. You press yourself closer to him, hands snaking around his neck.

Eddie takes his hand and weaves it into your hair, the other sliding down to rest on the small of your back, holding you firmly against him.

You let out a soft gasp as you two break away, your breath coming out in short, ragged pants. Looking up at him, your vision is dazed and unfocused as you try to catch your breath.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, your skin tingling from where his hands rest. You can feel his heart beating erratically against your chest, the rapid pace mirroring your own.

He runs his hand through your hair, tracing a slow path down your back, “God, you’re beautiful.” He admits, his voice low and hoarse.

The feeling of his hand in your hair, the sound of his voice, low and gravelly in your ear; sending a shiver through your body. You lay your head against his chest, listening to the steadying beat of his heart.

“I guess you’re not so bad yourself.” You shyly smile, your tone teasing.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating throughout his chest. Tightening his grip on you, he pulls you even closer to him.

“And there’s the smartass I know.” Eddie jokes, his tone warm and affectionate.

He unlocks the door, holding it open for you while he gestures for you to go in with his head. A small smile tugs at your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you feel his breath against your skin.

Carefully, you step through the door. Your body still tingles from the feel of his touch. You glance back at him, “You’re lucky that I love you.”

He raises an eyebrow at your words, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he trails in behind you.

“Oh! You love me now, do you?” He teases, closing the door behind him and locking it with a soft click.

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

for dad!jj— jj and the reader are in an argument and little maybank hears her parents yelling at each other saying hurtful things and she gets scared? yk yesterday she watched her parents with loving eyes as they laughed together, kissed, tucked her in bed, etc.. and now they’re acting as if they hate each other.

train wreck

pairing(s): dad!jj x mom!reader

warnings: yelling, hurtful words, teen parents

summary: while you and jj are in a heated argument, your daughter unfortunately catches a glimpse of it.

authors note: thank you for the request baby! enjoy :)

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

“yeah? well maybe if you weren’t running away every other goddamn day, i wouldn’t need to ask my parents for help!” you shouted at him.

“i have shit to do!” he shouted back. “don’t you dare make it seem like i don’t fuckin’ care for you or our daughter.”

you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “if you care so much, why are you never here?!”

“jesus christ, did you not listen to a single word i just said? i. have shit. to do!” he screamed, slamming his hand down on the table.

you knew he’d never hit you. he’d never even think about hurting you. yet the action was enough to make you jump. and that was when the both of you heard it.

the small whimper that you two had become so familiar with.

your heads immediately turned to the doorway where your toddler stood frozen, her bottom lip quivering and her eyes glossy as if she was about to cry. all the noise must’ve woken her from her nap with her messy hair and disheveled pjs. “what’s going on?” she asked, voice trembling.

you just wanted to cry knowing that your daughter had seen the monster inside the two of you. you quickly dropped any ounce of anger and frustration and rushed over to her. “hi baby,” you said softly, picking her up from under her arms. “we’re just talking.” you carried her out of the kitchen where the fight took place and into her room. “sometimes, me and daddy don’t always like the same things. we just have to talk about it to make it better.”

“are you okay, mommy?” she asked softly.

you nodded with a smile and brushed some of the short hair from her face. “i’m okay honey.”

“is daddy okay?” she questioned.

“mhm,” you said. “we’re okay. we just had a little disagreement.”

she leaned into your chest and wrapped her arms around your neck. “you guys were happy yesterday.”

you kissed her cheek softly and sat down on the bed with her. “i know. we’re gonna be okay. i promise.”

she crawled out of your hold and under her sheets with a big cheesy grin on her face. “go talk to daddy. i don’t like when you guys are sad.”

you chuckled and pressed another kiss to her forehead. “okay baby. you ready to go back to bed then?”

she nodded quickly. “night mommy. i love you.”

“i love you too,” you said, tucking her in and shutting her lamp off.

you headed out into the kitchen, rubbing your temples and groaning. “is she okay?” jj asked, standing up from his seat as soon as you entered the room.

“shes fine,” you replied tiredly. you hated fighting with him. it was hurtful and mentally exhausting.

he headed towards you, pulling your hands from your face and wrapping his arms around your waist. “i’m sorry, my love. i don’t wanna put anymore stress on you and i swear to be better. i just get overwhelmed with the whole having a kid at 19, you know? i’m sure you do too and its unfair of me to just leave all the responsibility on you whenever i feel like it. and i’m really, really sorry for yelling at you like that.” he apologized, his pretty blue eyes gazing into yours. “i just want to be here for you, sweetheart. for you and our daughter.”

you leaned into his firm chest, wrapping your arms around him and taking a deep breath. “it’s okay, j. i get it. but at the same time, this really has to stop.”

“and it will. i promise you it will,” he said, leaning back slightly and using his hand to tilt up your chin toward him. “i’m going to be here for the both of you until the end of time. i’m done running. you two are my entire world.”

you smiled tiredly and stood up on your toes to kiss his soft lips. “i love you jj.”

“i love you more, angel.”

[dancingtotuyo]

Part III

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: You and Joel hull the kids to the beach for a much needed vacation. Things begin to change.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: Tommy being a shitty husband & father, Father's day celebration, cursing, consumption of alcohol, emotional affair/cheating, some physical boundaries crossed. Pining

Notes: Y'all know the drill by now, thanks to my loves @janaispunk for beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading and providing me with some authentic prison information and inspiration, and @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 5273

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

It’s June before you’re able to escape to the shore. You make it in just over 4 hours. It’s good timing considering the multiple bathroom stops you had to make. It’s a small house that probably hasn’t been renovated since Joel was there as a kid. It sits two blocks off the shore on stilts that make you feel secluded from the people that pass on the quiet street below, and when you stand on the porch, the salty sea breeze caresses your body as you let your eyes close. You can just make out the crash of ocean waves. You can feel the breeze carrying all your cares away.  

Nate and Sarah excitedly explore the inside of the house. Their muted enthusiasm floating through the walls makes you smile. You’re thankful for this, thankful for Joel.  

The sliding door opens and then shuts. You don’t move. It’s Joel. You know the sound of his footsteps, the way he moves through the world by heart. He settles against the railing, arm pressed against yours. 

A smile spreads across your lips as your eyes open, landing on his. He smiles back. “Hard to enjoy the view with your eyes closed, Darlin.” His deep baritone rumbles smoothly. You see it in him too, the way the breeze carries away the wear and worry of the world. 

“It’s peaceful out here.” 

He nods. “Yeah, it is.”

“We should probably get back in there before the kids break something.”

Joel nudges you with his shoulder. “Don’t jinx us like that.”

“Our two? Unsupervised? That’s asking for it.”

“Our two?” A playful glint glimmers in Joel’s deep brown eyes. “My daughter is perfectly well behaved. It’s your little menace that’s the bad influence.”

“Oh my four year old is the bad influence?” You cross your arms, doing your best to keep the smile at bay. 

“For sure- got his dad’s streak for mischief. My Sarah is a perfect angel.” He sticks his tongue out at you. 

You roll your eyes, slapping his shoulder, but you don’t have a good response. He’s not wrong. Nathaniel knows how to get into places he shouldn’t. “I seem to recall an incident involving a ten pound bag of flour that says differently.”

Joel chuckles at the memory. Nathaniel was barely a week old when Sarah shrieked in the kitchen only for you to find her and the kitchen dusted in white powder. You had cried upon seeing it, postpartum hormones raging. Joel had cleaned your entire kitchen top to bottom. 

“She felt so bad for making you cry,” Joel laughs. 

“I think I scared her.”

The door opens again. Sarah and Nathaniel break out, rushing for your legs and begging to go to the beach. 

You spend the next several days lazing on the sand, reading more than you have in years as you soak in the sun. The kids run around chasing seagulls and other creatures. Joel helps them catch waves on boogie boards. You both take them further out to ride the waves. Sarah’s arms clutch around Joel’s neck, and Nathaniel does the same to you. They build sandcastles and Joel digs holes big enough to bury them both. 

At night, the kids are out by 8 o’clock if not earlier allowing you and Joel to sit out on the deck and drink. Your skin is warm from the constant sun. Joel’s cheeks are tinged pink on your third evening, his chest rosier. The salty air works at his hair, bringing out curls. You like this version of him a lot. You like this version of yourself too. 

Your feet sit in his lap as he massages your legs and feet, calves worn out from lugging your belongings across the sand and back. He stares up at the sky, twilight bringing the first few stars with it. You sip your homemade margarita, Joel’s specialty, from a red solo cup. 

“I shoulda brought my guitar. Only thing that could make this moment better,” he says. 

You hum softly, shifting in your chair. “Wouldn’t be able to massage my feet if you had your guitar.”

He laughs, so easy, so relaxed. You can’t remember the last time things felt this good. “Don’t worry, you’d still get your massage.”

“Why didn’t you bring it?” You cock your head to the side. 

“Wouldn’t fit in the car, miss over packer.”

You roll your eyes softly kicking at him. “We’ve used everything I packed. Speaking of which, what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” You take another sip of your drink. Joel finds a knot in your calf, working it out as you let out a slight hiss. 

Joel shrugs, carefully watching your reactions careful to inflict as little pain as possible. “Ask the kids.”

“It’s Father’s Day.”

“Kids like pancakes.” Joel sips from his own drink before returning to the knot.

“But you don’t.”

“Doesn’t matter what I like, Darlin.”

“Well, it does tomorrow.” You cross your arms. 

Joel sighs rolling his eyes. 

You narrow yours. “Don’t make me force it out of you. You know I will.”

He considers it a minute before deciding it’s a losing battle. “Those omelets you made for my birthday. I really liked those.”

You smile. “I can manage that.”

You sit in bed with Nathaniel the next morning to call Tommy. As early as possible is preferred, not that Tommy will care. He’s been blowing you off more, hardly talking when you call or visit, seemingly uninterested when you talk about Nate. It’s exhausting. You dread it, but you continue anyway. 

It takes a while before Tommy’s voice comes through the speaker. You force an exaggerated smile to your face for Nathaniel’s sake. Daddy is an abstract being to him. “Hey babe. Happy Father’s Day!”

“Oh… that’s today?”

You push back the annoyance rising inside you. “Nate wants to say hello.” You hold the phone up to your four-year-old’s ear.

“Hello?” he says. 

You can barely make Tommy’s pathetic response. He won’t even pretend for Nathaniel and that’s the unbearable part of all this. 

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel says, taking hold of the receiver before he dives into updating his stranger of a father all about their beach vacation. Tommy stays quiet the whole time. 

Rage begins to boil just under the surface. Before it can bubble over, Nathaniel says goodbye, shoving the phone into your chest and dashing out of the room the moment he hears Sarah moving around in the living room. 

“Tommy?”

“Look, I need to go.”

You're not sure what’s worse. The hurt or the anger inside you. “I love you.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you on Friday.”

“Tommy.” It sounds like a scold. That’s exactly what it is.

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Time for your wife and son?”

“You’re the one who called me.”

“Are you actually going to call on Friday? Or am I gonna end up sitting next to the phone all evening?”

You get silence. 

“Tommy?”

“I’ll call.” And then the line goes dead.

You want to scream or yell or cry or all three. You settle for throwing a pillow across the room and giving yourself 5 minutes to cry. There may only be three months of this left, but you’re not sure you’ll actually be talking to your husband at the end of it, not that the two of you do any talking now. 

Wiping your eyes, you make your way to the kitchen to start on Joel’s promised breakfast. Nathaniel and Sarah sit at the table comparing sea shells. “Aunt Bonnie?”

“Yes baby doll?” You smile, kissing her head. 

“Which one would Daddy like on his card?” She points to a collection of about 5 shells. 

“Hmmm,” you crouch down to her level, looking them over. “I think he would like any of them, but this one looks like him.” You point to a blue-grey shell. 

She picks it up, inspecting it carefully. “It does look kinda grumpy like him.”

You laugh. That isn’t what you meant, but she wasn’t wrong. “I’m making omelets. What do y’all want in yours?”

The kids are digging into their breakfast when Joel walks out of his room, arms stretching above his head to reveal a little sliver of his tummy. Sarah quickly shoves her Father’s Day project under some magazines. 

“Look who decided to wake up.” You smile over your shoulder. “Morning sleepy head.”

“One day of the year I get to sleep in.” He mumbles, shooting a teasing glare your way. He clocks your red eyes before you can turn away. 

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” Sarah yells, standing on her chair to give Joel a hug. He chuckles, pulling her into his arms, spinning around, and setting her back on the chair with ease. She laughs.

“Thank you, baby girl.”

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel grins at his uncle.

“Father’s Day.” Sarah corrects. Nathaniel simply shrugs like he’d said the correct thing to begin with.

Joel chuckles, kissing his nephew’s cheek. “Thanks, Bud.”

You track his footsteps over to your side of the kitchen as you invest your full attention on the omelet in front of you. You know he caught your tear-stained eyes. “Fresh coffee in the pot,” You say, keeping your voice even. 

You feel his full body heat behind you, a hand falls to your waist as he reaches into the cabinet next to the stove for a coffee mug. Something settles in your stomach. 

“What did my idiot brother do now?” He keeps his voice low so the kids don’t overhear. 

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Your head snaps toward him. He’s right there, face so close to yours. Always nearby. 

“You sure?”

You bristle a little bit. He drops his hand but stays in your space. “Not right now. We’re celebrating you this morning.” He smiles softly at you. “And I don’t want to burn your omelet, so scram.” You cock your head to the side. 

He waits a second, searching for any signs he’s missing something. When he’s sure he isn’t, he gives you a soft smile and a tender kiss on the forehead, and steps over to the coffee pot, leaving you feeling warm and hazy. 

The kids help clean up after breakfast. Sarah stands on a bench at the sink to wash dishes and Nathaniel waits patiently with a dish towel to dry the lighter dishes. You and Joel sit at the table, second and third cups of coffee in hand as you oversee their efforts. 

“I think I’m going to enjoy this next phase of parenting,” Joel says with a long, content sigh. 

You feel the easiness thrumming in your veins. Why couldn’t life always be this way? “Yeah if my anxiety about broken dishes or wet feet doesn’t get the better of me first.”

He chuckles softly, sipping from his mug as an easy silence falls between you. You watch the kids and Joel watches you. Sun pours through the many windows of the beach house. You’re not ready to leave tomorrow. 

“You wanna talk about it now?”

You sigh. “Not really. We’re supposed to be celebrating you today.”

“I’ll be able to enjoy myself more if I know what’s going on in your head.”

You keep your gaze focused on the kids, rolling the words around in your head. You feel emotionally exhausted by it all and you’re not even through the morning hours yet. 

“Darlin,” Joel kicks at your foot, smile on his face. “C’mon. We can talk about it.”

You set your mug down, turning toward him. “He’s just blowing us off again. I spent more time waiting for him to come to the phone than I did talking to him. He hardly interacted with Nate this morning.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to push away the tears pressing to escape. 

Joel reaches across the table, taking your hand. He runs his thumb over your knuckles. It grazes past your wedding band, almost taunting you now. 

“I’m sorry. This isn’t fair to either of you,” Joel says.

“You’d think I’d stop letting it affect me at some point.”

Joel bites his lip, eyes pinned to your ring finger. “He’s your husband. Needs to start acting like it,” Joel says gruffly. You catch the spark of something in his deep brown eyes, but you don’t have time to place it.

“We’re done!” Sarah exclaims with a proud smile, her shirt soaked through. 

You pull your hand from Joel’s, wrapping it around your warm mug as you laugh. “Thank you for your help. Both of you.” Nathaniel puts the dish towel carefully over the oven handle, shooting you the biggest grin.  

“Can we do presents now?” Sarah asks, curls bouncing with her. 

“Presents?” Joel says. “Y’all didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” Sarah says, looking to you for permission. 

“I think now is a great time for gifts.”

Both kids run toward their shared room. They had been very excited at the promise of bunk beds. You ease out of your chair. “Not you too.” Joel shakes his head.

You shoot him a wink. “Suck it, Miller.” 

Flashes of your delayed Mother’s Day celebration jump between you. Joel had switched up the weekends and hadn’t been prepared, but had made up for it the following weekend. You hadn’t heard from Tommy. He never even mentioned it. 

You grab the small box from your suitcase, a small white bow tied around it. The four of you settle in the living room. You sit tucked into one end of the sofa while Joel sits at the other end, a bouncing kid on either side of him. 

“Me first!” Sarah says, handing her card and hand-wrapped gift to her father. 

Joel takes care, slowly reading the card out loud. His gift consists of a souvenir snow globe and a puca shell necklace. She picked them out with great care at the beach shop the two of you stopped in yesterday. He oos and awes over both. 

“You should put on the necklace!” Sarah says, standing up on the cushions of the couch.

“Maybe I want to admire it more,” Joel says. 

You bite back a smile. He’s already lost this battle and you both know it. 

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” She grabs it from his hand, determination, and concentration painted on her face as she wraps it around his neck.

“Yeah, don’t be silly, Daddy.” You tease, shooting him a wink. He pokes his tongue out at you as Sarah almost chokes him in the process of securing the necklace. 

“Not so tight, baby girl.” 

“Oops,” she giggles. “All done.” 

She steps back to admire her handiwork, looking quite pleased. “What do you think, Aunt Bonnie?”

“Beautiful,” You smile, laughter evident in your tone of voice. “You look ready to hit the beach.”

“My turn!” Nathaniel announces, handing Joel a hand-drawn picture depicting their day at the beach yesterday. He goes into great detail describing everything he drew. Joel’s hand rests on Nate’s shoulder blades, head tucked toward him as he takes in everything the boy says with practiced patience and intentionality. 

It strikes something in your heart, a deep longing. That should be Tommy. But it also sends a deep sense of gratitude toward your brother-in-law for picking up where his brother has failed. You swallow back the tears, losing track of how much you’ve had to do that today.

“Thank you, Bud. I love it.” Joel kisses Nathaniel's head. 

“You’re welcome, Daddy.” 

Joel freezes. Ice rushes through your bloodstream. Your eyes meet Joel’s. What do you say to that? Neither of you knows the answer. 

“He’s not your daddy, Nate,” Sarah says, pulling out her older sister voice. “He’s your uncle.” 

“Oh yeah,” Nathaniel shrugs, unbothered by his mishap as he swings his legs back and forth, hitting the couch with his heels as he does.

“Aunt Bonnie, do you have the other gift?” Sarah asks, determined to keep the morning on schedule. 

“Yeah, right here.” You fumble around, finding the box tucked between yourself and the couch. Joel keeps his eyes on you trying to figure out what’s running through your mind, but he can’t. 

Sarah plucks the box from your hands before presenting it to her father. “This is from all three of us.”

She looks very proud of herself. Joel takes it with a smile, eyes flickering back to you briefly. You give him an encouraging nod. 

He loosens the bow, pulling off the top. The kids lean over either side of his body, excited for the reveal even though they’ve both seen it. He pulls it out, inspecting it carefully. A black watch face with silver accents and an olive green watch band. His eyes dart to yours. You smile at him. 

“You’ve been talking about it for years.” You smirk, sipping your coffee. “You were never gonna do it yourself.”

“It’s exactly what I wanted.” He shakes his head, a stunned chuckle shaking his chest. “How’d you know?”

“Found an old picture Tommy had stored away last fall.”

“Look at the back.” Sarah bounces with excitement. 

Joel flips it over. His brows knit together as he catches the inscription. Happy Father’s Day. We love you. Sarah and Nathaniel. 1997.

“Do you like it?” Sarah looks up at him with sparkling excitement. 

“I love it.” He kisses her cheek, thanking both the children. He wraps it around his wrist, buckling it into place. 

“Now you won’t be late anymore,” Sarah says, making you and Joel laugh. 

“We can only hope,” you say. 

Joel looks up at you with one of the most heartfelt smiles you’ve ever seen. His lips move silently. Thank you.

You nod in response. 

You spend the final day of your vacation on the beach until the sun has disappeared. Joel ends up running back to the house to grab the car so your two very tired children don’t melt down. You hurry through bath time, trying to get all the sand from hair and bodies. You’re sure you’ll be finding sand all over your and Joel’s homes for months. 

You provide goodnight hugs and kisses, but Joel takes bedtime duties. You’re cleaning up the kitchen, and packing up pantry items when the first lines of You Are My Sunshine drift out of the kid’s bedroom in Joel’s soft melodies. The kids' sleepy voices talk him into another lullaby and then another before their eyelids slip closed and their breathing evens out. 

The door clicks softly and you’ve already pulled the margarita pitcher and new solo cups. “See they talked you into the whole set list tonight.” You smile, filling the cups with the last of the margaritas. 

“It’s the last night of vacation.” Joel chuckles. He grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and the half-eaten bag of pretzels. “They asked so nicely.”

“And you’re a big softy.” 

You grab both cups, following Joel out to your spot on the deck. It’s cooler tonight, the breeze a bit stronger. You sit across from each other, feet propped in the seat of the other’s chair with the blanket spread across your legs. Joel sets the pretzels right at your knees. 

“Did you enjoy your day?” You ask, sipping on the day-old margarita. It goes down easier tonight, and your cup is filled to the brim.

“It was a good day.” Joel smiles at you, easy and relaxed. The world and your issues feel so far away here despite the day’s earlier events. “Probably the best Father’s Day yet.”

“Oh you mean it beats the raw banana bread from last year?” You’re laughing before the sentence fully leaves your mouth. Joel’s head falls back, chest vibrating with laughter. 

His hair curls more from the salty air and fits him, tanned skin, curly hair, Puca shell necklace and all. You wonder if you look like a similar version of yourself, the relaxed beach version. 

“Sarah trying to choke me with the necklace beats whatever it was you tried to bake last year.”

You stick out your tongue. The pretzel bag rustles as he grabs a handful. You take another drink from your cup. Joel Miller makes a mean margarita. 

“What about you? Did you have a good day then?”

You take an extra second to think about it before nodding. “Yeah. I can’t complain when it comes to well-behaved kids and the beach.”

“Nathaniel calling me dad didn’t throw you off, I hope.”

Your shoulders tense a little bit. “I think I’m the one who should be asking that.” 

“Kinda surprised it hasn’t happened sooner if I’m being honest.” Joel’s pointer finger slides along the lip of his cup before he brings it to his lips. 

You bite your lips, staring at the house across the street. “Same.” 

“Sorry, that was kinda a mood killer.” Joel’s hand rests on your calf. 

“It’s fine. You’re more of a father to him than his real dad.” You try to wave it off, but the facts are reeling in your mind like a movie. “Fuck, you were in the delivery room, and coached his T-ball team, and you’ve tucked him into bed more times than Tommy ever has.” You swipe away the moisture that’s gathered in your eyes, chasing them with another gulp of your drink. 

“Hey… maybe you should slow down there.” Joel leans forward, his feet dropping from your chair as he grabs the solo cup from you and the pretzels tumble to the deck. 

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You reach for the cup, but Joel keeps it out of reach, setting it on the ground next to his. 

“I do.” He’s firm with you, grabbing your hands and tucking them between his. You can’t meet his eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. “What's going on in your mind right now?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin,” He tugs gently on your arms. Your feet greet the warm deck as you're forced to sit up straighter. The side of your knee bumps against his. “You can talk to me.”

“I just want to enjoy our last night, Joel.”

“Can’t do that if I’m worried about you.” He tips your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

The street lights flicker off his warm eyes. You feel his touch linger under your chin. Extra warmth gathers in each place he touches. The words bubbling up in you, helpless to stop the thoughts circling in your head for months. 

“I’m not sure my marriage is salvageable. I don’t know if I’ll recognize my husband when he gets out. I don’t think he’s the same person-“ You can’t finish through the choked-out sobs. 

Joel lets out a soft sigh and before you know it, he’s tugging your pliant body into his lap, rubbing your back. He kisses your head. Your head finds the crook of his neck, fingers digging into the back of it. He’s the steady rock he’s always been. It does little to soothe your racing mind. 

You have so many questions and no answers. Tommy’s release from prison always felt like a distant finish line. Now, three months away, it feels like just the start. 

“No matter what, I’ve got you,” Joel says, hand cupping your cheek. “I’m here for you.”

How much longer can you continue to find solace in your brother-in-law's arms? How much longer will Joel play the part Tommy is supposed to? Supporter, parent, partner…

You pull back, fingers still wrapped around his neck. The metal of your wedding ring presses against his skin, but he’s used to feeling it. He doesn’t even think about it anymore. Your forehead nearly touches his. The pools of his deep eyes are endless. They’re different than Tommy’s. You don’t mean to compare, but you like it, soft and inviting after sleeping on rocks for years. You think you catch the hints of desire in them. You’ve forgotten what it feels like to be desired. 

There’s a fight, a push and pull between you. Who’s going to do it. His hot breath fans across your lips. Who’s going to be the one to finally cross the line you’ve been toeing for so long and drag the other one into exile with them? It’s a lush oasis in the middle of the desert you’ve been traveling. One move and you can dip your toe in. 

Joel gives in first, leaning in. Your eyes flutter shut with anticipation, another touch of his breath. His nose nudges against yours. You catch a whiff of the salt on his skin, and then, nothing, a mirage all in your head leaving you stranded in the desert. 

Confusion knits your brow before your eyes are open. Joel is still close, closer than a man that’s not your husband should be, but he feels further away than ever. 

His thumb nudges your bottom lip. He gives a weak smile in an attempt to cover his true emotions. “We can’t…”

He’s right. You hate yourself for getting so carried away. “I know.” 

Your hand drops from his neck. You might be sitting on his lap but he’s never felt farther from you. 

“You should go to bed.”

You think to fight him on it, but you decide not to. You stand up. Joel doesn’t move, thumb playing with the lip of his solo cup. He can’t meet your eyes and it feels like you might be losing him too. 

Before you can think better of it, you lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Your fingers rake through his hair twice over. His eyes close and he lilts into you just the slightest. 

“Thank you, Joel. For everything.”

His Adam’s Apple bobs as you pull away. He keeps his eyes pinned ahead, fingers curling around the red plastic. He’s barely holding on to control. 

“Good night,” he says, voice gruff, never looking away from his fixed point. 

“Goodnight.”

Joel finishes off yours and his margarita before he falls into bed. It’s just enough to keep him buzzed as he runs toward rest. He can’t get the feel of you out of his mind, how close he was to ripping apart his whole family. 

He’s in and out of sleep when the door pops open. He assumes it’s Sarah. She probably had a bad dream, and tosses the corner of the comforter back. Except, the full size mattress dips lower than it should. He reaches out but instead of Sarah’s small frame, he gets a handful of your waist as the smell of you fills his nostrils. In the haze of sleep, Joel opens his eyes just enough to find you facing away from him. 

The bed isn’t big enough for his legs not to tangle with yours, not if he wants restful sleep. Your body doesn’t tense under his touch. You don’t say anything. Neither does he, but your body melts into him until he finds his arm fully around your middle, back flush against his front.

Joel Miller considers himself a good man, but a good man doesn’t yearn for his brother’s wife. A good man doesn’t give into the temptation to have her so close, to be with her so intimately. Tonight, Joel Miller doesn’t worry about being a good man. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but tonight, Joel Miller falls asleep with you in his arms and bed. Tonight, Joel Miller’s deepest desires come true. Just for tonight, he gets to pretend you’re his. 

You wake up to an empty bed like you have since Tommy went to prison, but something feels off about it. A familiar smell lingers under your nose, and unfamiliar warmth fills you even though the sheets are cold.

You let out a soft groan, eyes fluttering open. You stare up at the ceiling, convinced once again that something feels off. You turn to look at the clock on the bed stand but there’s not one there. The walls are a different color and you shoot up as it all comes flooding back. 

You almost kissed Joel last night. The way you tossed and turned before giving into temptation and crawling in beside him. He hadn’t fought you, hadn’t said a word but pulled you flush against him in the bed that was just a bit too small. You’d slept like a baby for the first time in years. 

Joel sits at the table with the kids as they shovel the last of the extra sugary cereal into their mouths. A special vacation treat. You expect Joel to ignore you or at least be standoffish, but he hands you a cup of steaming coffee with the same smile he always does, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes as if nothing happened. 

You offer a smile in response. A silent agreement to never speak on it again.

You’ve been home for a week when it comes, a plain white envelope stuffed with something soft labeled with a return address you’re all too familiar with written in Tommy’s chicken scratch handwriting. 

You wait until Nathaniel is down for the night, but it throws you the whole evening. Letters from Tommy are more rare than phone calls. You’ve received one, maybe two since he was incarcerated. Considering he’d promised to call on after Father’s day and hadn’t, the mysterious letter makes you feel unsettled. What shoes are left to drop?

You run the envelope through your hands, thumb picking at the corner of the seal, uncommitted to actually tearing it open. You’re worried whatever lies within will only hurt you more. You can’t sustain more hurt. 

Finally, you dig into the corner, tearing it open. Your eyebrows knit together. White fabric is neatly folded and tucked within. You pull it out, revealing a square of white fabric, like a bandana unfurls and a note falls to the floor. As you take in the black and white drawing on the fabric, you gasp. It’s a drawing of the picture you keep on your nightstand. The moment Tommy met Nathaniel for the first time. Tommy’s arm is wrapped around you, Nathaniel in his arms with the biggest grin on his face. It’s a moment that’s seared into your memory. Seeing it portrayed like this brings tears to your eyes, the emotions from that day and the last 696 flooding your body. 

Before the tear completely blur your vision, you pick up the note. You can barely make out Tommy’s handwriting when your eyes are clear, but you manage. 

Baby,

You and I both know I didn’t draw this. My cellmate did based on the photo. You probably know that. They call them paños. I’ve seen a lot of the ones guys in here have sent to their girls. They’re pretty cool. 

I’m sorry. I wish I could be better for you and Nathaniel. I love you, Bonnie. 

Tommy. 

Tears stream down your face. Just like that your heart seems to forget the heartache of the last couple years. This proves that your Tommy is still inside him somewhere, fighting to come back to you. You’ll do anything to have your Tommy back. 

It doesn’t matter if you're grasping at threads. Your heart overpowers your mind. You’re determined that you can pull him back by those threads, maybe not now, but once he’s out. Once he’s out, you can bring him back. You’re his Bonnie. He’s your Clyde. You’re tied together. Your heart beats for him, but you don’t catch a piece of your heart breaking off from the rest. That part can't beat for Tommy. It’s attached to someone else. 

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours @duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee @caitlynsixxx @kaykay0315 @stevie75 @millercontracting @cals-laundry @jessthebaker @noisynightmarepoetry @vickie5446 @mewantpeepaw

[pinkrelish]

do you think once miss mouse and eddie were in an established relationship she’d bake cakes for his and adrie’s birthday every year?? i feel like she’d go full out for adrie like full on multi tiered princess cake and the first time she does it eddie and his baby just go absolutely feral in the best way possible

ps typ is my favourite slow burn EVER i love it withh all my heart ur so talented

today's my birthday so it seems fitting to answer this! wc: 496

morning dawns soft blue in a kitchen warmed by low lights, and orange coils. a kettle boils water too hot for a third cup of instant coffee, and cooked sugar enriched by vanilla bakes through the small apartment. suffocating heat from the oven on the early june day breaks sweat on your forehead as you re-whip the frosting you made an hour ago, plastic bowl in your arms still cold from the fridge. the yellow cake cooling on the rack simple, homemade. jack of all trades, master of none, it's nothing impressive, just something to tide adrie and neighborhood kids over until the big party on the weekend.

still, when your big snoring man shuffles in with a bedhead halo and plaid pajama pants with one drawstring longer than the other, his raw wonder catches the husky sleep deep in his throat—"aw, baby, what're you doin'?"

you shrug, too shy to admit how early you woke up to do this, suddenly embarrassed with your effort to make a good impression on his daughter's first birthday with you in her life. he had no clue what you had planned for her real cake, and already your cheeks went hot from the lovesick shine flooding his eyes, big softy about to cry while he scratched his stomach under his shirt.

"you're too much," he says in a shake of his head. too much on a thursday morning when her party comes saturday afternoon.

his bare feet scatter the balloons creeping across the carpeted floor, blown up by him late last night until he felt faint, and ready to be popped in the energetic rush of cake for breakfast. on his way to you, he passes the one wrapped gift of a latch hook rug kit beneath the happy birthday banner you hung crooked even with his help. it was a creativity driven present to keep her busy before she got her big girl bike in two days time. training wheels most definitely included.

any second now adrie would run through the streamers you both taped to the top of her door frame, so eddie made quick work of putting the frosting aside and smothering kisses atop your head, wielding his dad strength to hug you tight to his chest, steering you into a twirl by his hold on your wrists, rocking from foot to foot until your back was crushed to his front.

tucking his chin to mash his nose to your hair, his heavy hum vibrates through your skull as he surveys the usual munson fare mingling with your new traditions, slowing your bodies to a gentle sway until his sigh empties from his lungs. "you mean everything to us, you know that?"

"i know that," you answer so softly it was lost in the bubbling hiss from the kettle before he shut off the burner. "you're everything to me, too."

"thank you, baby."

"thank you, handsome." thank you for this moment, this family, this love.

[seiya234]

21 grams lighter

that website, amirite? anyway can't fucking believe alex did it again.

----

“Uncle Dipper, the school said you had to sign this?”

“Me specifically?”

Hank frowned. “Well, an adult in our house.”

“You’re the first one we found,” Willow added.

Dipper picked up the paper, skimming it quickly and. Oh.

Oh my god.

“Mabel are you in here?”

As the triplets wandered off, task done, a head covered in googly eyes popped out the kitchen door. “Mmmyes?”

Dipper brandished the papers. “Do you remember MADD?”

“Moms Are Down with Drugs? Yeah. We had to do those worksheets, and go to that rally in the gym, and there was a dog in a jacket.” Mabel paused. “Also, I don’t think they actually knew what it meant when you say you’re down with something.”

“Okay, so MADD… but for selling your soul.”

The googly eyes, with impeccable comedic timing, all fell off of Mabel’s face.

“No.”

“Oh my god, there’s a pamphlet.”

By now, Mabel had joined him at the table. “’Soul Selling: Not Even Once!’ Oh. Oh Dipper, this is bad.”

He was trying to hold in peals of laughter. “I know!”

“I don’t think this is going to discourage anyone.”

“I know.”

“And look, they basically give you the directions to summon five different demons in the name of Not Doing That, this is really, really bad.”

“I̶t̷'̴s̵ ̸f̸a̷n̶t̸a̴s̶t̷i̸c̵!̴”

Mabel looked at him, just looked at him for a minute, sadness welling deep in her eyes.

“No. No it’s really not.”

------

Trillions.

A number that is truly incomprehensible, much less in the context of time.

There were souls that rotted in that stomach longer than the oldest rocks of Earth.

--------

[from the M.A.D.D. Brochure, 2285]

“So remember kids, selling your soul doesn’t just effect you. It effects every version of you! It is an indelible mark that will linger for eternity, never changing, never going away. Paths, choices, loved ones, all will wither in the face of the horrible decision that you made! Eternity is forever, don’t make it your fault!”

[penciled in the margins, a note: “so we aren’t going to talk about social inequality or systemic racism then are we?”]

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

(the most eternal, sacred part of a being)

Dipper had been a demon for all of a month, if that, when he was offered his first soul. For a while, he… didn’t really do anything with them.

When he did, it was of course super traumatic for everyone involved but eh, that kind of went with the territory of everything that was happening in his life lately.

Point being, he never was sure why Bill kept everyone trapped inside of him, constantly screaming, constantly playing beach tunes to drown them out. No, better to eat them, get the power, set them free.

Like, obviously, not great to be eating souls in the first place, and yeah, yeah, he could tell, even ten thousand (ten million) (ten billion) years later who he had crunch munched through, but like, they were able to be out there living their lives! Doing stuff. Cycling back through.

Honestly. What had Bill been planning to do with them?

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For the first week after it happened, animals ran away from Mabel.

Not just cats and dogs but all animals. Flocks of birds would fly off at her approach, deer would get near the Shack and then run off, and Gompers disappeared into the woods.

After the bear ran screaming from her, Mabel put two and two together, and called Dipper.

“Is this forever?”

Dipper frowned. “What do you mean?”

Mabel waved at her body. “This.”

(it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair she was only 16/18/22/17, she didn’t mean for this to happen, she only wanted to live, he only wanted her to live, this wasn’t f a i r )

“Oh. Uh. Um.”

“Dipper. Just. Tell. Me.”

“Hold on.” He reached into his stomach, and pulled out something…. Ineffable.

It felt like every single cell in Mabel’s body was reaching towards it, she found herself walking towards Dipper’s open hand.

The demon looked at her.

“You can have it back.”

She was crying. When did she start crying? And more worryingly, why did it feel like this was the first real, true thing she had felt in a week?

He pushed the Ineffable thing into her chest, and Mabel sank to the ground, sobbing. She felt whole again.

She didn’t realize that she hadn’t been whole, not truly, not until now.

Alcor smirked. “Consider it… out on lease. I’ll take it back eventually.”

She should have challenged him on that. Should have asked him about that. Should have done a million trillion other things.

But Mabel was human. And scared. And so, so very young.

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(you were birds)

A young man with fluffy brown hair, mixing his blood with his sister and his new brother-in-law, making a promise.

(you were trees with roots entangled)

They made a family together, it was a beautiful family, they let him stay, stay when anyone else would have told him to leave.

(wherever we go next, whatever you choose, I will always be right there with you)

They fit, like spoons in a drawer, like yin and yang, salt and pepper, ketchup and mustard, literally a million different pairings you could compare the two of them to. They weren’t perfect but love doesn’t need to be, and shouldn’t be perfect.

(that’s done buddy)

One grave

(congratulations)

Another grave, but eighty years later.

(you chose Alcor instead)