#some family fluff for y’all

[restlesskeychains]

Before the bad stuff happened

[veinsfullofstars]

Meet the Families: Bebebe & Jojojo

Everyone, say hi to Dedede’s mama and papa - a pair of lovebirds as different as day and night! Check below the cut for more deets and fun facts!

(OC info updated as of 04/20/25.)

Started 04/14/25, finished 04/20/25. | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

---

Some fun facts about Bebebe:

-Bee is originally from Planet Earthfall and grew up helping out on her family’s farm... or trying to, anyway, finding her eye tended to wander away from boring farm work and drift towards the distant horizon instead. All it took was a handsome drifter and his tales of life beyond the stars to get her feet moving, sparking a sense of wanderlust that remains with her to this day.

-During her far-flung travels, she discovered the world of spectacle fights and pursued a career in an interstellar wrestling circuit on a whim, finding a knack for it and even earning a good bit of fame for a time thanks to her fiery persona, impressive strength, and skill with her weapon of choice, the great hammer.

-She met Jojojo during the height of her career, spotting him in a group of visiting Star Warriors who’d seen her latest match. She likes to talk about how much she enjoyed the slow process of cracking open his hardened solider exterior, of seeing just what it took to make him smile or laugh or share a bit of himself, of finding a nurturing side that he’d hidden away for so long (his battle skills were nothing to sneeze at either). She’d been the one to propose not long before her planned retirement from the circuit some years later.

-She loves food just as much as her son, having discovered many delicious exotic dishes during her travels (though she has a soft spot for the southern comfort food of her homeland). She jokes that she would’ve probably been an intergalactic foodie if she hadn’t joined the fighting circuit. She is a regular customer over at the bakery run by Para's dad.

-Bee is a kind and gregarious woman, well-liked by just about everyone and good at making friends of even the grouchiest souls (if her choice of partner is any indication). Though, despite having a veritable well of patience, it would not be wise to push her buttons too much or talk smack about anyone she cares about. There’s a reason they used to call her Madame Caldera in her wrestling days…

-Bee never really considered herself the motherly type until she and Jo came to Popstar and had her only son. Now she can't imagine not caring for the little tykes that run and play around her new home. She even took on a part-time position as a PE teacher and sports coach for the children of the village, happy to help keep them fit and active even if they can all be a handful sometimes (like, literal handful - she can easily lift most of them with one hand and toss them like basketballs if she wanted).

-Bee has loved her son from the moment he was born and would spoil him rotten if given the chance (one of the very few points of contention between her and her husband, given how much she tends to let the boy get away with). One can only imagine the absolute joy in her heart when Dedede asked her to teach him how to fight like she did back in her wrestling days.

-Even after decades of marriage, Bee still knows how to fluster her prim-and-proper husband.

Some fun facts about Jojojo:

-Jo is originally from Shiver Star, raised in a well-off family with parents who were (no pun intended) rather cold and traditionalist. He claims that the only good parts of his childhood were learning to play the piano and wandering through his family’s greenhouse.

-He left for the GSA at an early age (supposedly at the encouragement of a less-than-loving parent) and would go on to spend much of his adult life training and working for them. There, he rose through the Star Warrior ranks, facing many hardships and triumphs along the way, and even learned how to conduct the very elements around him into his weapon of choice, the longsword. By the time he’d met Bebebe, he’d become quite the decorated knight, practically on track to become a General had he not encountered some… difficulties during one of his last missions, ones that left him with a scar on his foot and a permanent limp, forcing him into an earlier retirement than he’d anticipated. He still keeps in contact with his commanders and war buddies through Paige and Sir Tort (definitely just for correspondence and not for long-distance contract work to fill the void left by his retirement).

-Though Jo has many an exciting and grisly tale from his time overstars, he’s not the best storyteller, his recounts often dry and monotonous even during the most heart-pounding scenes. He’s more of a stickler for facts, statistics, and order as opposed to the subjective and emotional.

-Perhaps stemming from a childhood spent on a planet covered in endless winter, Jo has always had an interest in plants and nature, finding their elemental power to be the easiest for him to conduct and control. He’d put it aside for a while during his GSA days (tending to favor ice more during that time), but rediscovered it after meeting Bee, her friendship and gentle encouragement leading him back to those old, beloved hobbies. These days, he helps out at the local apothecary in the village - run by Para’s mother - and practically fills their home with potted plants, caring for them and even giving his favorite ones names (don't laugh - he takes his plants very seriously).

-Jo is civil and respectful with most of their neighbors - talking mechanics with Bow's mom, or discussing herbalism with Para's mother, or trading tales of time overstars with Sir Tort - but he's not nearly as chummy with everyone as his more sociable wife. He has found a surprising camaraderie with Whispy Woods, though, appreciating the old tree for his wisdom when he comes seeking answers or advice, and for his patience when he needs some space or a place to vent.

-Though often busy helping at the apothecary or away on *ahem* off-the-clock GSA business, Jo occasionally makes time to train some of the older children in the way of the sword should they be interested. He is not exactly a patient teacher, but he is an effective one to the right students (as showcased by Meta and his - in Jo's words - remarkable aptitude for swordplay).

-Jo’s relationship with his son is… a strained one, to put it lightly. Though he does care about the boy and wants to see him succeed, he's not great at showing it, instead defaulting to methods of strictness and distance used in his own upbringing. He has a habit of piling expectations upon the boy, delivering curt critiques and passive-aggressive disappointment whenever he fails to meet them. Dedede usually responds with shouting, backtalk, and childish acts of rebellion that only serve to reinforce Jo’s frustration with him, leaving it up to Bee to mediate things and try to encourage patience between them.

-Even decades into their marriage, Jo is ever the gentleman and treats his wife with the utmost respect.

[gracieheartspedro]

For Cryin’ Out Loud

pairing: post-outbreak! joel miller x fem!reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

word count: 7.9k

description: living with joel is complicated, especially when you can’t sleep due to nightmares. when you find yourself in his bed, you can’t help yourself. but joel sure can. give him a day to mull it over.

warnings: pretty slow burn, kinda forced proximity, kinda angsty, unspecified age gap (don’t like it, don’t read it), joel gives you tons of nicknames (darlin’, kiddo, etc.), discussions of nightmares and possible mental illnesses, some fluff, reader isn’t really described, joel is kinda a gaslighter, he’s also a bit pervy, unprotected p in v (wrap it y’all), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, joel like worships you!!!!!, joel licks his fingers clean, giving genitalia pronouns, joel’s a big boy. think that’s it. lemme know what I missed!

author’s note: I really enjoyed writing this. the idea is pretty simple but I love domestic jackson!joel. I promise i’ll try to switch it up soon and write something that isn’t jackson!era lol. support your fav fics by reblogging and commenting!! thanks love ya <3

For some reason, you always find yourself standing at the threshold of the front door when you cannot sleep. 

The air was especially brisk tonight. You wrapped yourself in a gray chunky sweater you found in the lost and found in Jackson’s thrift store, hoping to regain some warmth. Your bed may have been comfortable, but it was the place where nightmares usually plagued you. 

It was too late to be awake, and you knew that if you were caught, you would hear it from Joel. He always reprimanded you. Every time he caught you up late, it was like your father woke up and found your hand in the cookie jar. 

The dynamic between you two had changed since arriving in Jackson, and you almost resented him for it. When it was just you, him, and Ellie, you were managing a family unit. Joel was always the protective father, you being the mom or the voice of reason, and Ellie being chaos. 

When Ellie and Joel’s relationship shifted, he took on a fatherly role for you. It bothered you. A lot. 

In a moment of contemplation, you hear footsteps coming down the steps behind you. 

He’s wearing flannel pajama pants and no shirt, his hairy tummy something you did not see often. 

“What are you doing awake?” He questions, his voice groggy with a twinge of annoyance. 

You do not feel like explaining yourself, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without a justification. 

You huff, leaning your back against the door frame so you can get a full look at the broad man. “Can’t sleep. Thought staring into the darkness would help.”

He grunts, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “How’s that workin’ for you, sweetheart?”

You could not close your eyes without the haunting dreams that seemed lively and so real. Every night, you had the same recurring ones. You were being chased, hunted, or murdered. Or all of the above. You would wake in a cold sweat, not wanting to shut your eyelids ever again. 

“Hm,” You say, staring back outside for a brief moment, “‘Was better when you weren’t looking over my shoulder.”

He chuckles, “Get back to bed.”

“I can’t, Joel.”

“You can and will. You’re no good when you’re tired.”

“If I close my eyes, Joel, I will just have the same goddamn nightmares I have every night. And I will end up doing what I’m doing now, which is trying to get some fresh air to forget them.”

“You’re not gonna forget ‘em with some fresh air. You just need to… get over them.”

The breeze picks up as soon as he says it, almost like the world knew the tension would have to be broken with some frigid air. You retort with, “And how do you get over yours?”

"I just accept them," he says, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I don't have time to dwell on them. There's always more important things to worry about."

"I'm more tired in the morning when I just endure them." You explain, trying not to cry about it. But you are so sick of them. The same thing every night.

“I get it. One day they will subside, I’m sure of it. But for now, you gotta-”

You just want him to shut up. At the same time, your mind is trying to remember the last time you did not have a nightmare. The memory makes your stomach churn. “You remember that one time we were forced to share that sleeping bag? Back in Pittsburgh?”

“Yeah,” His tone was wary, “What about it?”

"That was the first night I didn't have it." You explain, your voice a bit shaking at the insinuation. You don’t want to face the fact that Joel, the man that you have known for going on 10 years, kept your nightmares at bay. The same man who continuously rejected you and told you that he was old enough to be your dad. The same man that told you no, I don’t like you like that. I never will. That Joel. 

“And? Why are you bringing this up now?”

"Because every night I go to my bed and I'm forced to face them alone. When you were there... they didn't even bother holding my mind hostage.”

He took another step closer, closing some of the distance between you two. He towers over you and you can’t help but stare up at him in awe. Joel has always been a complicated part of your life. You consider him your sexual awakening, honestly, but he will never ever know that. Over the years, he’s only gotten more handsome. 

But now, he has a curious expression written all over his face.

"Are you saying you want to share a bed with me?" he asks, his voice gruff and low.

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to answer. You knew that was stepping over a boundary for Joel. He liked his space. He didn’t like you impeding on that space, especially. Your bedroom was the furthest away from his for a reason.

"I don't know." You manage to say.

Joel's gaze darkened, his expression was completely unreadable. You wish you could read his mind, but you should be grateful you can not. 

Because in Joel’s mind, he’s trying to formulate a way to convince you to stay away from him altogether. The wall he has built over the last decade was intentional. He did not want to hurt you any further. He already knew you had feelings for him, but he was an old man. He did not want to drag you into his mess, all the baggage he carried. He looked after you, he shared a home with you, and that’s it. Strictly platonic. 

He shifted on his feet a little, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You shook like a little leaf.

"You don't know?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble.

You nod, "I don't know if I want that."

You do want that. But you want more, too. You knew you would be playing with fire. You would just be disappointed. 

Joel’s temptations are buried deep but they still fester every now and again. Some days he would catch a glance at you getting dressed in the crack of your door and have to take a cold shower. As soon as he felt those emotions bubble in his chest, he would try to distract himself. Maybe he would take a longer patrol. Maybe he would go to the Tipsy Bison and try to find a woman to take home. That one never really worked. 

“Well, what do you want then? Because standin’ at the door and letting all the cold air in ain’t gonna work for me or you.”

You look down at your picked-over fingernails and contemplate your next sentence. You don't want to be heartbroken in the morning when you wake up and he's there sleeping peacefully next to you and you're not... his.

"I want to sleep with you."

Joel was not expecting such a blunt response from you, but he appreciated you not beating around the bush about it. He gestures for you to step out of the doorway so he can shut the door, which you do. 

He looked down at you, his eyes raking over your face, taking in the exhaustion and uncertainty. 

"You sure?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

You just nod as he locks the front door. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. 

Joel couldn’t believe it either. Maybe it was the tiredness or the instincts he felt to protect you, but he was not mad at the idea of sharing his bed with you. 

You signal for him to go upstairs, “You lead the way.”

-

Joel’s room was always off-limits to you. So when you step into his small little world, you take it all in. 

The artwork around the room was mainly nature landscapes. He had a big dresser right at the room's entrance with picture frames of Sarah, Ellie, and other family members. You were even included in one photo—a picture of you and him on some horses from last year. 

A shirt littered one side of the bed, so you took that as it was probably his side. Unfortunately for you, it was the right side. You felt a pang of guilt realizing you would probably end up restlessly lying in Joel’s bed if you were stuck on the left. 

Before he can pull back the blanket for himself, you stop him. 

“Uh, can I sleep on that side?”

He completely halts in his motions, turning his head towards you with a blank expression. “My side? Why?”

You lick your lips, already regretting this whole thing. 

“Because I have had this superstition since I was a kid that I could only sleep on the right side of the bed."

Joel wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. He can tell you are at war in your head about the question, your expression practically anticipating his rejection. 

"Superstitions, huh?" he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips."You and your weird beliefs."

You watch as he crosses to the other side of the bed and lifts the blanket. Is he actually letting you have his side? Maybe he doesn’t hate you. 

“You could also call it a compulsion, but superstitions seem more fun and less like a mental illness.”

He laughs this time, his deep chuckle making you feel a bit more relaxed about the situation. You did not feel like a burden as much. You walk to the right side and pull back his navy blue sheets and blanket. The spot looks warm and inviting so when you crawl in next to Joel, you start to realize that you’re back in the same situation you were in years ago in that sleeping bag. He was so close and warm and you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and keep you comfortable.

But then another thing came to mind before you could imagine his arms around you. 

You usually sleep on your right side or back, but now you don't know what to do because you didn't know how Joel slept.

"Do you sleep on your side or back?"

Joel studies you as you fidget beside him, your uncertainty causing him to smirk slightly. It was almost endearing, seeing you be completely out of control of your surroundings. He remembers back when you were traveling with him you had an obsessive need to straighten up everything before you fell asleep. You had to roll yourself up in your sleeping bag the same way every night. 

"Usually on my back," he said finally. "But I can sleep on my side, too."

You swallow, trying to picture yourself sleeping. For some reason you felt the urge to have control of the situation, dictating exactly how he has to sleep, too. "Can I... I'll sleep on my side if you can sleep on your back? Is that okay?"

Joel had to suppress a smirk at your request. You knew he was trying to hold back a snarky remark. Instead, he surprises you.

"Sure, you can sleep on your side," he agreed, shifting his body weight onto his back, "’n I'll sleep on my back. No big deal."

You turn to face him, tucking the pillow further under your head. You can tell his eyes are heavy from exhaustion. You know it's time to shut up, to go to sleep, but you feel the need to say something else to him. Sometimes your brain concocts questions and statements and you know you shouldn’t say them, but your mouth betrays you.  

"When was the last time you had a girl in your bed?"

Why the fuck would you ask that? You think to yourself. It fell out of your mouth like drool.

Joel's eyes widened at your blunt question, surprise and a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. You knew he was probably just expecting you to lay here next to him, maybe roll around a bit, then sleep. But instead, it’s an interrogation.

He took a deep breath, his mind rattling around as he tried to think of a response. He didn't want to admit what his genuine answer was to you, but he too could not help himself.

"Why do you want to know that?" he asks, his voice steely.

You hate that he even responded because now you needed to defend yourself.

"I uh, don't know. I don't know why it matters."

Joel chuckled softly, noting that you probably just had a case of word vomit. You always told him you were infamous for putting your foot in your mouth, especially in awkward situations.

"Curiosity got the better of you, huh?" he asks, rubbing his face with his hands. “You just can’t help yourself, sweetheart.”

He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to face you, his gaze studying your expression.

You smirk, grateful that he's letting it slide. When he turns onto his side and he's at eye level with you, your face drops a bit. He is ruining the vision in your head. He’s throwing a wrench in your plans.

"You're supposed to be on your back, sir."

Joel couldn't help but chuckle softly at your comment. He knew he was supposed to be on his back, but the new angle allowed him to see you better in the faint moonlight.

"Don't worry," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. "I'll turn back over in a minute. Just... enjoying the view for a bit."

You roll your eyes, lifting your hands from under the covers and lightly hitting his arm. You knew he was just fucking with you now. 

"Okay, for that, I want to know the answer to my stupid question."

Joel let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. He shook his head, amused by your persistence. You start to think about it and you have never really seen him bring anyone home. Maybe it had been a very long time and he was embarrassed. 

"Alright, alright," he said, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Last time I had a girl in my bed..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to the covers, his mind racing to find the right words.

"Go on..."

Joel took another deep breath, his voice dropping even lower as he spoke.

"It's been a long time, kiddo," he admitted, his voice pierced with a bit of shame. "Almost ten years, if I'm being honest."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "No way... You've never just... got it on with someone in bed?"

Joel's face flushed with embarrassment at your blunt question, a mix of shock and slight irritation flashing across his eyes.

"Jesus, you really don't hold back, do ya?" he muttered. He shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable in a different way. He hadn't expected the conversation to turn so personal, so quickly and he did not want to face you anymore. He was mortified. 

You mentally slap yourself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I am just tired and delusional. Uh, you don't have to answer that."

Joel could practically feel the humiliation radiating off you and he too felt the exact same way. You knew how to add to an already awkward situation.

"No, no, it's fine," he reassured you, his voice a bit gentler now. "I get it. You're tired, and your filter has taken a backseat."

"Yeah, exactly..."

He shifted on the bed, turning onto his back again, his gaze shifting to the ceiling, avoiding your curious stare.

You could not help but stare at his side profile. A prominent straight nose. His downturned lips are surrounded by some fine lines that show his age. He was a beautiful man now, but you can’t help but imagine him back in his 20s. He had to have been a hit with the ladies back then.

Joel could feel your gaze on him, studying his face. And while you were not scrutinizing him, he felt like a commodity in a museum or something.  He forced himself to keep his gaze on the ceiling, refusing to meet your eyes.

"So… ten years and no sex?”

You could seriously, not help yourself.

"Correct.” He grumbles, still not meeting your stare.

"Damn, Joel." You mutter, adjusting a bit to sit up a little more on your pillow. "I seriously thought you were sleeping around the whole time we have been in Jackson.”

He finally turns your way, a bit of offense on his face. “Why would you think that?”

You shrug, not wanting to insult him. But that’s how you formulated your grudge towards him. It was easy to just chalk everything up to problems with random women you have seen around town. 

“You just give off the energy…”

“What?”

You huff, laying back on the pillow. “I don’t know, Joel! I feel like when I’m around you all the ladies think you’re handsome. They stare.”

“They are staring because you’re always following me around and we aren’t married or… together. They think we are odd.” 

You had never heard such things around Jackson, but it does sort of make sense. Everyone was probably just confused because you two lived together but were not a couple. You can admit it is bizarre, but it just did not feel like an option any other way, in your mind. So Tommy gave you two a bigger house and you set up separate rooms. 

But in actuality, Joel secretly told Tommy that he did not want you too far from him. So when Tommy couldn’t give you any other houses nearby, Joel just told him that you two would be roommates.

“Well fuck ‘em.” You mutter, trying not to sound too offended by the thought of people gossiping about you two.

Joel just nods. You settle by tucking your arm under your pillow. You yawn, the exhaustion now taking over your body. You watch Joel grab a pair of reading glasses from the side table and a book. You decide not to bother him, especially because he probably wanted to just read himself to sleep instead of being interrogated by you any further.

You close your eyes and eventually fall asleep. The deeper you get, Joel notices how your breathing pattern changes. When he’s finally ready to get some shut-eye as well, he watches as your body crawls closer to him. Your arm swings over his stomach and rests on his forearm. He is so shocked he does not move a muscle. 

You adjust some more, not knowing what you are doing. Your leg creeps up and tucks right between his. You snuggle your face right into his chest. The only movement Joel decides to make is slinging his arm over your shoulders to pull you in tighter. 

It’s the first time in years that you two slept soundly, with no interruptions. No nightmares, no sudden intrusions, nothing. Silence and snores fill the room and that’s it.

-

When you wake up, it’s slow and gradual. Your brain hardly computes that you’re laying on top of Joel’s shirtless frame, until your hand runs across his warm tummy. 

You crook your neck up, looking at the handsome man you are spreading across. 

His lips are slightly ajar, letting out hardly-there snores. They are so pretty and pink and you cannot help but touch them with feather-like fingertips. You would feel so guilty waking him up-

His eyes slowly open taking notice of your actions even though you tried not to stir him. Your eyes fly open in shock, but he does not seem very annoyed. He smiles. 

“Mornin’ darlin’,” He says in a deep sleep-laced voice. You smile back at him, loving that he decided to call you the nickname you always got giddy over. You press your fingers into his chest before replying.

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

His hand comes up from your shoulders and tucks some hair behind your ear as he stares down at you, “That’s good kiddo. I’m glad you slept well.”

The intimacy is almost too much. The way this is how it would be if you woke up to Joel every morning. It sends your brain into overdrive and you force yourself to ruin it a bit.

“Woulda slept even better if you didn’t talk so much in your sleep.”

Joel froze for a moment, his cheeks immediately flushing pink with embarrassment. He sits up a bit more, adjusting to the brighter lighting in his room. He knew he had a problem with talking in his sleep. Ellie used to talk about it all the time. He dreaded hearing what he was saying while curled up next to you.

"Uh... what did I say?" he asked, trying to maintain his composure.

"Something about it felt so good to be pressed up against someone, I don't know..." 

You could not help yourself and started to laugh. You knew you were going to get a rise out of him. 

Joel's face flushed an even deeper shade of pink as you started to laugh, clearly amused by your joke. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an excuse. He was just dreaming, it was not about you. 

"W-what?" he spluttered out instead of making an excuse. "I didn't... I didn't say anything like that."

You have a shit-eating grin on your face and you press your hands on his chest to prop yourself up. You enjoyed watching him squirm.

Joel's eyes flickered down to your hands on his chest. He sickly thought they felt so right placed there. He imagined what you would look like fully mounting him. 

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but you could see through his stone-cold exterior.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?" he grumbled, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Fully fuckin' with you." You giggle, hoping he is not really that mad at you. 

“You’re a brat.”

You move your foot slightly, running it up his leg. It sends shockwaves up his body, having you so close and moving around so seamlessly. 

"No, you said something about how beautiful, alluring, and incredible I am. Said I was the girl of your dreams…"

"Yeah, right," he said, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. "You expect me to believe that?"

"So, you don't believe me?"

"No, I don't believe you," he says, his voice stern but playful. "I think you're a dirty little liar, trying to play me for a fool."

"A dirty little liar, huh? Well, it's good to know that you don't think I'm beautiful, alluring, and incredible." You giggle at his acknowledgment, knowing he caught you red-handed.

"Oh, I never said that," he smirked, a hint of teasing in his voice. "You are all of those things, darlin’. But you're also a dirty little liar who likes to play games."

"So you think I'm beautiful?" You crack, the biggest smile painted on your face. You don’t even care that he’s calling you a liar because it does not matter. Joel thinks you are beautiful. 

“‘Course I do.”

You push yourself up onto your butt, sitting crisscross next to him. He secretly wishes you were still curled up on top of him. 

“You always this nice in the morning?” You ponder, your fingertips starting to toy with the hair on his stomach. He tries not to pay mind to it, letting you have full access to touch him. 

But it’s driving him insane. The way you look freshly woken up, completely enamored with the idea of him calling you beautiful. You have some puffiness under your eyes and your lips are more swollen than usual.

“I am always nice to you.”

You let out a scoff, “No, you’re not.”

He notices the shift in your tone and starts to get defensive, “Now you’re just lyin’.” 

Joel always loved to gaslight you in these situations. You knew better than to let him get away with it, especially now. “No there was that one time you told me you did not like me and that you would never like me. How you are old enough to be my dad-”

“Because I am!”

And there’s the wall. The only constant in you two’s relationship. He was so good at throwing it up when feelings were being expressed. When vulnerability was presented, Joel could not help but reject it. 

“And the world’s fuckin’ ended, Joel! Big deal!” You almost yell, moving your hands from him. 

Why does he already miss your hands?

He huffs, crossing his arms over his soft chest. “We have had this conversation for the last 10 years.’M not sure why we keep rehashing it.”

“And every time you turn me down it’s another fuckin’ stab in the heart.”

“You know why we can’t,” He practically growls. You can not stand to even look at him anymore with your bitterness and irritation taking over. 

“Whatever, Joel.” 

As soon as you say it, you’re already leaving his room and heading to your own. When you slam the door, you hope you have made your point. You want to scream and punch a hole in the wall, but instead you just furiously stomp around the room and grab your clothes. You had patrol at noon, so you needed to get to the mess hall before breakfast was over. You try not to cry as you strip down and get dressed.

Joel sits in bed, reeling. He hates that it has become a conversation every six months. He hated that rejecting you always sent you into a spiral of hating him for extended periods. It’s not that he did not want you, it was simply just not in the cards. He was too old to be in love. He was too old to play house with you. He just could not submit to the idea of leading you on, especially because you had so much more life to live. 

He finally works up the courage to get out of bed and put on some clothes. He opts for putting on his typical jeans and thick flannel. It was getting colder and he knew by the end of the winter, you would end up with half his flannels anyway, so he had to enjoy them while he had them. 

You storm downstairs, going to the back door for your boots when you spot him in the kitchen. 

“You got pat-”

“Yes.” You respond quickly, shoving your foot into your shoes. He stands behind you with a mug full of tea, watching your every move. 

“Who are you-”

“Jesse.”

He was asking his usual questions, which you were not in the mood to answer. 

“Hey, can you-”

You snap your head back at him, giving him the glare you gave him as a warning usually. By now, he takes it as a hint and backs off. But not this time. 

“Can I what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you fuckin’ not be a brat about this?”

You wish your glare came with knives. If that were the case, Joel Miller would be dead on his kitchen floor. 

You are so thrown off by the question that you just watch him get angrier when you do not respond. 

“Are you serious, right now?” You press, keeping your voice from cracking. 

He brings the mug up to his mouth, taking an obnoxious sip. When he pulls the mug away, you notice how steaming it is. “You always pull this shit-”

“No, you do! You do this shit to me every fuckin’ time, Joel. You sweet talk me, make me feel comfortable, have me lapping everything up in the palm of your hands, and then you snatch it away. Then have the audacity to get mad at me!”

You are yelling now and it is throwing him off. Joel knows better than to interrupt you like you do to him. You were the kind of person who would calm down if you felt heard. 

The way he knew you down to your core made this all so painful. Because if he was not so stubborn and true to his convictions, he would have fucked you the moment you touched his lips this morning. 

“I ain’t tryin’ to make this harder than-” “Too fuckin’ late.”

You think back to the moment last night when you knew you were going to hurt your own feelings by sleeping with him. You knew better, yet here you are, still blaming him for your stupidity.

He stands there, still holding his mug, staring you down like a wounded doe who got pierced with an arrow. He feels guilty like he misled you. Before he can say anything, you are lacing up your boots and leaving out the front door without another word. 

-

All day long, Joel wanders around the house trying to get rid of the pit in his stomach. Nothing works. A shower. Reading a book. Cutting wood. As soon as he tried to use laundry as a distraction, he reached into his hamper and found one of your t-shirts. He held it close and smelled it, trying to wrap his head around how he got here. 

You spend all day, silently fuming on horseback with Jesse. When he tries to get you to open up, you ice him out and tell him to focus on the trail in front of him. 

You get back by sundown, the sun setting making it a lot chiller than you expected. You decide to take the long way home, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. You were not ready to face Joel, let alone share a space with him. But unfortunately, during your patrol, you fell into some mud and needed a shower. The more time it spent on your clothes and body, the grosser you felt. 

You open the front door, announcing that you are home. It was a habit you and Joel developed after you both pulled guns on each other during late-night arrivals. 

You hear Joel mumble something from the living room, but you do not stop to listen and continue on your way upstairs to the bathroom. 

You strip down as soon as the door is closed, tossing your muddy clothing into a hamper in the corner. You would get them washed and hung as soon as you shower off. 

You hear Joel’s footsteps creaking around the upstairs hallway as you scrub your body with homemade soap and warm water. 

When you start to dry yourself off, you hear Joel grunting something in the hallway. You wrap yourself in a towel and peek your head out the door. He’s on his hands and knees wiping something off the hardwood. “What’s goin’ on?”

He looks up at you, your body only covered in a bleach-stained blue towel. It makes his head spin. He can’t even be mad that you tracked in mud. 

He swallows, gripping the cloth he’s using tighter. “You got mud everywhere.”

You step out, not even really thinking about the fact that you are not properly dressed in front of Joel. You were still mad at him, anyway. Who cares what he thinks?

“Sorry, I could’ve cleaned it up.”

He returns to wiping the wood, “It’s fine, I got it, kiddo.”

You accept his response and move on to your room, but the draft you leave behind drifts to Joel’s nostrils. Your soap smells like lavender and it always sends his mind racing when you are fresh from a shower. He clears his throat, trying to get through the emotions filling his chest. 

But it’s been like this all day. You’re all around him even when you’re not physically here. How can he get away from you? Why is he trying to run in the first place?

He’s on his knees in your hallway, cleaning up your mess, sniffing the air you leave behind because he’s fucking in love with you and he cannot help himself anymore. 

Joel starts to think about how peaceful he felt having you next to him last night and how he would love to feel that way every night. For once he’s not thinking about what everyone else would think. For once he’s thinking selfishly and caving into every desire he has ever pondered about you. How would you feel under him? How would your lips feel pressed against his pulse point? 

His body was on fire, thinking about you. 

You are fiddling with some clothes in your dresser after you flick on the overhead light. You do not hear him come into your room behind you. 

You are so wrapped up in your own thoughts that when he clears his throat to announce he’s in your room, you scream. Loud. 

“For cryin’ out loud, woman!” 

You grip your towel tighter when you turn and see him standing at your mercy. 

“Joel, what the fuck?” You yell, gesturing to the fact that you are practically naked. He does not care, of course, and his ears are ringing from your piercing scream. He gathers himself as you shift back, trying to create some distance from him.

He is trying not to gawk at the fact that your grip on the towel against your chest is only pushing up your cleavage. He’s biting back everything. “Can we talk?”

“Talk about what? The fact you crept into my room when I was trying to change? Are we past boundaries now?” 

You are pissed, trying not to rattle off another million things to discuss with him. He’s only really talking about one thing. 

He scoffs at your last statement. “Boundaries were already out the window when you crawled into bed with me last night.”

Silence fills the room as you completely stop breathing. The anger you originally felt dissipates. 

“Joel-“

“I ain’t doin’ this back and forth anymore,” He starts shifting in his spot, unsure if he really should be doing this. “I can’t live how I've been livin’. Somethin’s gotta give.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. 

“You are the one who won’t give, Joel.”

As soon as you say it, he practically drags himself over to you. Completely destitute. You have never seen him look so desperate before. You can tell that he’s been at war with himself ever since you left this morning. His eyes never lied.

His hand creeps up your bare arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

But then you remember his words from this morning. You start feeling like this is just a moment of weakness for him and that he will regret it later. You had to stop it before it was too late. You did not want to deal with the consequences. 

“Joel, you said we can’t-”

“Fuck what I said,” He cuts you off, “Do you want this?”

You stare into those brown eyes, searching for a sign of hesitance. You cannot believe Joel is being this vulnerable with you. 

But, you do want him. God, you have wanted him so badly for so long. You have searched for him in every man you have ever been with since knowing him. 

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. He takes note of your parted lips, every word failing you at that moment.

“Darlin’-”

“Yes,” You finally manage. “Yes, I do want this.”

It’s all he needs. He closes the gap between you two by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his space. His lips crash onto yours, not wasting another breath of air waiting to indulge in his sickest fantasies. 

You are all Joel ever dreamed about. He knew that once he caved and physically gave in, his world would be shot and everything would revolve around you. For years it had been a teetering object on a cliff, one nudge would have him falling. He always managed. But now, he was falling head first. 

His lips move so perfectly with your own. Your hand released your towel and found the tufts of his curls at the base of his head. You did not care that the article pooled around your feet, leaving you completely bare in front of Joel. You have wanted this all along. To be uncovered, to be stripped down to the rawest form. He broke the kiss briefly just to scan your naked body, his forehead pressed against your own. 

“Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

Your heart stutters as his hand traces your stomach down to your hips, all the way down to your ass. He stops there, grabbing a handful. 

“I need you,” You choke out before pressing your lips to his over and over again. “Right now.”

He mumbles “jump” into your mouth and you do so, his hands working quickly to hike you up onto his waist. He carries you to your bed, wasting no time dropping you onto your back. 

He cannot get enough of your soft, swollen lips. Every time he pulls away slightly, he dives in again even more aggressively than the last time. 

You are so hypnotized by the way he feels on top of you. In the light, he seems so much broader than he was last night. He’s still fully clothed, to your dismay. You start to tug at his shirt, motioning him to remove the articles that are in your way. 

He throws off his shirt before he stands up at the edge of the bed and pushes down his jeans. 

“Joel… I-“

He just shuts you up with another passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to melt into your mouth. Your hands trail up his back, gripping onto his shoulders, holding him down so he is pressing against your nude body. 

“God, I have wanted this for so long,” He sputters, trying not to sound too desperate. “Been wanting this.”

That’s when his hand reaches down between your thighs and gathers the wetness your slit has to offer. His fingers dance across it, starting from the top all the way to your spongy entrance. 

“Please, Joel.”

He loves the lust-laced tone you speak with when you say his name. It almost makes him cum there and then. 

You watch as he makes his way down your body, peppering kisses from your shoulder to your hip. When he parts your legs, you feel quite exposed. The adrenaline of being so spread for him manifests into a moan. 

“You are divine, baby.”

The use of that adjective is so-not-Joel that it makes you giggle. He notes your reaction and decides to sink down into you. When his mouth gets close to your core, it’s no longer a laughing matter. 

He uses his fingers again, using them to spread open your pussy lips. He cannot keep his eyes away from how dripping you are. “This all for me?”

“Y-yes, Joel.”

“God, I was a fuckin’ fool for so long. Could’ve had her earlier and I never fuckin’ caved. Such an idiot.”

Him giving your cunt pronouns was enough to have you throwing your head back and shuttering. His touch was magnetic like he knew exactly what buttons to push as he rubbed his fingers and palm over your core. 

“Yeah, you’ve been missin’ out. Every night…” You swallow before looking down at the man that is enamored with your pussy, “E-every night I would lay in this bed, fuckin’ myself just thinkin’ about you.”

He growls at the statement, before teasingly kissing your clit. “Every night, hm, kiddo?”

“God, yes.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as he leans forward more and dives in. His nose is pressed firmly against the top of your pussy, nudging forward every time his tongue enters your hole. When that motion became consistent, you began to note the rumblings in the pit of your stomach. A familiar build-up that you managed to get when you were playing with yourself. 

His fingers move in tandem with his lips and tongue. While his middle and pointer finger slide in and out of you, his lips wrap around your clit. It’s overwhelming and all-consuming. 

You do not know where to center yourself, so your hands grip the bed sheets you were completely soaking as Joel pulls the first orgasm out of you. 

“That’s it, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, hm?”

You hardly make a noise, the orgasm is so earth-shattering that you just writhe on the mattress. 

“Oh my god…” You groan, finally able to catch your breath. When Joel removes his fingers from you, you watch as he slowly brings them up to his lips.

When he inserts them in his mouth, you gawk at him, unsure how to react. He watches your expression and chuckles darkly.

“Mm, never seen a man enjoy the taste of ya?”

You shake your head. “Never expected to hear those words leave your mouth, either.”

“Wait ‘til you hear what else I got to say.”

He stands up beside the bed, grabs your hips, and brings them to the edge. He is tossing you around with ease, bringing your lower body flush with his. He yanks down his briefs, revealing himself to you. You instantly take notice of how well-endowed he is. You never thought you would ever be close to his cock, let alone have it lining up at your entrance. 

“Joel…“ You stop him with your small voice, but still welcoming him in with your legs opened wide, “I don’t know if it will fit.”

He grins, “It will, baby. Just relax for me, okay?”

You watch him slide his member along your center, the feeling so blissfully overstimulating. You whine a bit, raising your hips to his. 

But Joel continues his torture, enjoying the way you’re squirming under him. The way your eyebrows are knitted together, your eyes shut as you grind up into him. It’s the prettiest sight. 

“Ready?”

Your eyes fly open as you watch him ease his way into your core, the sound of squelching filling the room. You don’t think you have ever been this wet for someone. 

“Oh my fuckin’ god, Joel…”

He smiles as he inches in, “Squeezin’ my cock so good, darlin’.”

When he’s fully sheathed inside, he tests the waters by drawing out slowly. You roll your hips in a circle, trying to feel out every inch of him. He fits, but you know once he starts to move faster, the stretch will become overwhelming. 

He’s trying to focus and not blow his load immediately. You look so beautiful below him, your tits slowly shifting back and forth every time he draws back and forth. He reaches out, wanting to feel the flesh between his fingers. God, he craved every inch of you, he realizes. 

You open your legs as far as you can, letting him hit you at a different angle. The movement allows him to slip in a bit more seamlessly, so when he speeds up his thrusts, you don’t feel like you will completely split in half. 

He brings your leg up to hips, and feeling your soft delicate skin against him makes him lose all sense. His hips snap faster the more you moan out for him. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, girl. I can’t believe I was missin’ out on this cunt,” He babbles, “Need this cunt every day from now on. Gonna have you all to myself every night.”

You are too fucked out of your mind to read into those implications.

“‘M all yours, Joel.”

He smiles, slowing down a bit. “Keep talkin’ like that and ‘ll finish a lot sooner than you.”

You sit up a bit, your eyes flickering over his entire body. He notices you checking out his nude frame, which makes him feel a bit more bold. He leans down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. You love the way his tongue slips into your mouth so effortlessly. When he opens his mouth, his facial hair tickles your nose a bit which makes you smile. When his hips pick back up to a quicker pace, it sends you gasping into his mouth.

“Please, Joel,” You whine, that familiar build starts up but this time it’s like a freight train. Moving so quickly down every nerve ending in your body. “I’m gonna cum.”

“‘M with you, darlin’. Soak this dick. I’m right behind ya.”

His dirty talk causes the crash. Your body practically lifts off the mattress. You cry out so loud you are sure a neighbor could hear you. You try to gain your bearings, but you are panting like you just ran a mile. 

Joel fucks you through it, but the restriction your pussy is putting on his cock sends him over the edge. His hips stutter into yours, his seed emptying into your spent hole. He just keeps repeating your name as his thrusts slow down.

He has never had such a visceral orgasm in his life. His knees are weak and can hardly keep up his weight. He practically falls on top of you, which does not offend you at all. His warm sweaty body on top of you is almost reassuring. 

“You okay, kiddo?” He finally mutters as his hot breath fans the nape of your neck. You just nod, bringing your hand up to his salt and pepper hair. You tug lightly, smiling to yourself. 

“I’m more than okay.”

He finally sits up, his cock spilling out of you as he adjusts his position. Your hole drips a mixture of cum onto your newly clean sheets, but you could care less. It’s just another thing to hand wash tonight.

Joel stumbles to the middle of the room, picking up your bath towel. He uses it to wipe himself up before coming over to you. Your legs are still slightly apart so he decides to clean you up a bit. He’s gentle, knowing that you are probably still sensitive.

Once he finishes up, he crawls next to you as you continue to recover. Your bones felt like jello so standing up to adjust yourself was not an option.

So instead of facing him, you stare up at your ceiling fan as his eyes lock onto every detail of your profile. It brings him back to one night you two shared under the stars a couple of years ago. It was his turn to keep watch so you curled up in your sleeping bag by the fire. He admired you from across the flames, the orange hues lit up every angle of your face. It was at that moment that Joel realized that he could not picture his life without you. You had weaseled your way into every facet of his life and he used to resent the impact you had on him. You were younger, more patient but still stubborn like him. You made him laugh, like genuinely laugh, for the first time since the infection. While you may have been a bit impulsive with your emotions, he envied the way you could say exactly what you were thinking. 

Joel did not want to love you, but it was impossible not to. 

You finally look over at him, noticing the softness in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” You pose, scrunching your nose. 

He gives you a toothless smile, his eyes crinkling a bit. “I just can’t wait to sleep next to you for the rest of my life.”

tags of people I love and who may wanna read (no pressure I just love u) (some of u did ask tho) : @ashleyfilm @hockeyhughes @pedrospookie @guiltyasdave @amanitacowboy @myownwholewildworld

[chrollohearttags]

love thy neighbor • r. sukuna

(Y/N) moves into an apartment complex on the other side of town and winds up living right next door to one of the most notorious drug dealers in the city nonetheless! But looks can be deceiving…

📝: black!fem plus size reader, plug!sukuna, age gap (6 years or so) mentions of toxic relationship and baby trapping, religious trauma, anxiety, alcohol + drug use, comfort + fluff and angst to smut, missionary, prone bone, oral sex, reader cries during, daddy is used a couple times, size difference, lots of kissing, positive affirmations, creampie

wc: 3.0K

🎙️: I swear imma get back to posting regularly! I’m just being lazy and hating my writing rn (it sucks) 😭 but I hope y’all enjoy

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you didn’t know what to expect when you found yourself residing on the same floor as plug!sukuna..it was your first time living on your own. Fresh out of your parents’ house with minimal belongings and all of the savings you had managed to scrounge over the years. Enough to cover first and last month’s rent with some extra left over..working as a receptionist in a local doctors office by day and offering online tutoring services at night to suffice your income. You'd return home from your shift, ready to relax by at least eight o clock..meanwhile, plug!sukuna was just beginning his night. Heading out into the streets to do God knows what until the early morning hours. But he’d never leave until he’d done two things: said hello and made sure that you were straight. You never really understood the logic behind it..especially considering the fact that you weren’t exactly close friends or even acquaintances beforehand. Hell, he didn’t know you at all and yet, he was just as kind as an old lady bringing you cookies to welcome you to the neighboorhood.

nonetheless, plug!sukuna would always tell you “..keep that door locked, don’t answer that shit for nobody and call me if you need anything, aight?” his deep voice was the last voice you’d heard for the evening and the first when you awoke in the morning. Sometimes, he’d even bring you breakfast per your request and you’d eat together. You’d cut off all ties to your controlling, religious fanatic family and the narcissistic ex who’d all but attempted to stick you with a kid you didn’t want and turn you into his personal doll…trapped inside of the house with no purpose other than to serve him. It was the way all of the men in your former faith operated. But you weren’t interested. Not in the slightest. In fact, you wanted change so drastic, it’d make their goddamn heads spin! Over time, you’d grow closer to plug!sukuna. His second long check ins and warnings became full blown conversations as the two of you congregated downstairs in the pool area or at the mailbox for a cup of coffee. A cigarette dangling from his fingertips to go light once he went outside.

“I know this place seems nice and all from first glance but…imma let you in on a lil’ secret, baby. It’s all types of people who come here..looking for trouble and hell, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m part of the reason. That’s why I tell you to keep your door locked. Your pretty ass answers for the wrong person and somebody is bound to try and take advantage. ‘Damn shame I’d have to fuck someone up if something were to happen to you..”

plug!sukuna was sweet and endearing in his own right. But that’s what drew you into him..he was the very antithesis to what you knew men to be. Brutally honest yet so empathetic to your feelings. Rough as hell around the edges but a total gentleman. He may have done horrible things but he was a good guy..the best damn one you’d ever met. Unbeknownst to him, you’d watch him from the window leaving out; others surrounding him in the parking lot in similar cars. Blacked out with tinted windows..doing sleight of hand to pass something to other tenants who you’d recognized. Only what you could assume to be drugs. A couple of the guys you’d recognized from church, talking to deacons and pastors..now it’d all made so much more sense. Even so, plug!sukuna kept you out of that part of his life as much as possible. Eventually, some months would pass and it was a secret to no one that you’d grown quite fond of him..damn near smitten even.

however, plug!sukuna was adamant on not taking it there with you! He’d admitted himself that you were beautiful and in another life, any other circumstances..he wouldn’t hesitate to make you his. The problem was, you were still too vulnerable and he was knee deep in a lifestyle he wanted you to steer clear from. You were healing from years of trauma and downright abuse..trying to navigate this world on your own. If he were any other scumbag, he could have easily sucked you into his world and had you out here doing his bidding.

“(Y/N) baby..do you know how many girls just like you..who leave bad situations and end up in worse ones because some nasty motherfucker saw how vulnerable they were and used that to their advantage? How many girls went from being in the church to being on their knees for some pimp? I care too much ‘bout you to let that happen. I’m no good for you, I swear. You’d only end up hurt because I can’t give you all of me. Shit, I can’t even promise I’d make a good boyfriend. I’m selfish as hell, I’m always gone..I’ve slept with more women than I can remember. What could you possibly want with somebody like me, huh? What could I possibly do for you, (y/n)?”

but you saw right through plug!sukuna’s facade. He was gentle at heart..a romantic even. He wanted his person to spoil and adore just as much as you did. The streets were his only love for most of his life. He’d seen many things but nothing quite like you..those round, doe eyes; so innocent and pure. Pouty lips, chubby cheeks and the soft, ringlet curls that surrounded that gorgeous face. That soft, plump body and those thighs that rubbed together when you walked away. He wanted to devour you whole sometimes..many nights had plug!sukuna lied in his bed next door, thinking of you being on top of him. Those perky breasts jiggling as he bounced you up and down on his cock. Those nails clawed at his chest as sweat poured down his skin. But those thoughts were far too lewd and disgusting for someone like you! He was ashamed of even having them. But he couldn’t help himself..especially when that sweet, airy voice all but begged him to take you.

“Because I love you, Ryo..I love everything about you. Even the bad shit. I don’t care what you do because it’s not who you are..you’re the man that brings me food and coffee in the morning so I don’t have to rush before work. You’re the man who kisses my forehead when he leaves because you know, deep down..it could be the last time I see you. You’re the man who calls me every time he hears a gunshot or sirens because he worries himself sick about me when I’m not near him. You carry my laundry baskets and groceries, you clean my apartment while I’m sleeping because I’m too tired. And not once have you ever tried to touch me. You never made me repay you with sex or anything. You could easily hurt me and you can’t even bring yourself to raise your voice, even when I’m dead fucking wrong. No one has ever cared about me that much, boyfriend or otherwise and I don’t give a damn if you sell drugs or blow up buildings. A man who’d do all of that for me and never asks for anything in return is exactly who I want.”

plug!sukuna found himself dumbstruck for the first time in a long time..standing there with your small hand cradling his chiseled jaw, tears streaming down your face, he’d find that his own eyes were welling and burning. He’d never heard anyone speak about him in such a way. “Damn, I guess you can read me like a book.” Hell, he’d never acted that way with anyone else either. Yet here he was, treating you like a princess. He couldn’t pretend anymore..he had to be honest with you..and himself.

“I—I love you too, (y/n). So much..”

“Then make me yours. Right now..right here.”

“you know once we do this, we can’t go back..”

“Please..leaving the past behind is kind of my thing.”

it didn’t take long for your lips to meet in a fiery haze, tongues intertwined in a moment of heated bliss. Your hands roaming one another’s bodies as moans slipped through..your clothes all but becoming discarded heaps on the living room floor like a movie scene cliche. His lips traced from your neck to your collarbone; slightly dredging his teeth along the skin in the process.

“Here, baby..take my hand.” plug!sukuna, in one fell swoop hoisted you into his arms as if you weighed practically next to nothing. Continuing to feed you those slow kisses, he’d carry you to a nearby wall and part your thighs. With your legs resting on his shoulders, he’d mark every inch of you. From your sensitive nipples which he cradled in his mouth to that pudgy tummy he loved so much to that juicy center, which was practically leaking for him.

“This all me? Just from some kissing?..” “This is nothing. I touch myself every night thinking about you..you should see the mess I make then.” plug!sukuna could barely sate his urges now, hearing how nasty this supposedly innocent girl was for him! He wasted no time slithering his tongue into that aching cunt. Swirling it around on that throbbing clit, spitting into those pretty pink folds and those succulent brown lips encasing them. He feasted like a man unhinged; greedy and selfish as fuck, just like he claimed. You’d grasp a hold of those dark reddish and black locks, grinding yourself into his face. Rubbing his nose in between your slit.

“Mmmph! Ryo…” “Yeah, fuck my face. Don’t hold back now. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

plug!sukuna would eat your pussy until he heard you sobbing and felt that orgasm come barreling out. Your tight hole spasming on air as those juices trickled down his throat, chest and mouth. He couldn’t help but to laugh as he watched you writhe in pleasure. Attempting to push him away as you rode out that orgasm.

“Wha—how did you?—“ “What? I told you..I’ve had a lot of practice.” Choosing to omit the fact that he’d fantasized about you sitting on his face more times than he could count. Tossing you a wink and one final lick before carting you over to the sofa. Where he laid you down gently against the cushions…pinning those legs back whilst hovering over you. The entire time, he couldn’t take his gaze away from those gorgeous eyes..they glimmered so bright. Full of lust, adoration and excitement. No matter how much you smiled, he always sensed a certain emptiness behind them. A light stolen from you and now, he hoped to reignite it.

observing your movements, plug!sukuna began to chuckle when he saw you pawing at his crotch. So eager to unsheathe that hard on from his boxers. He could tell that the shy, bashful demeanor you presented was only a front. If given the opportunity, he could turn you into his personal slut with ease..but for now, he wanted to focus solely on making love to you. Giving you every part of him that he’d long to for months now. You’d examine his chiseled torso, reaching up to caress his abs and trace your fingertips along his various tattoos. But you couldn’t distract yourself from how large that bulge was..protruding and leaking with precum…

“Can I?—“ Go ahead, baby..take it out.” And without hesitation, you’d tug that elastic waistband back and let it spring forth. He was so girthy and long. Clean shaven and although he was erect now, you could tell he was huge even when flaccid. Nonetheless, plug!sukuna grasped those thick thighs of yours and mounted in between them; gliding that aching tip along your folds. ”Now you tell me if it hurts, okay baby? If I see you flinch or look uncomfortable, I’m pulling the fuck out. We clear?” And you knew when he spoke, that was law. Nodding in agreement, you’d consent to his terms as you rubbed your folds, waiting for him.

“Good..and tap my arm if you can’t talk. I’m ‘bout to start moving. You ready?” with your permission, he’d glide in slowly and immediately, he thought he’d seen stars! Plug!sukuna, by his own volition, had been with countless girls. From strippers to models, but never had he felt pussy this tight! The warmth immediately cradling him and not letting go. He’d suck his teeth before muttering a single ‘fuck’ under his breath. You were going to be some pressure, he was certain of it. But he’d continue on, gathering his footing and working that cock into your entrance. A single pop, along with wet, squishing sounds rang out across that living room as you lie underneath him.

“Goddamn…your shit feels incredible, baby. I know you had some good pussy..I can tell just by looking at you.” Forcing a wide, toothy smile on your face. You’d never heard him talk so vulgar but it was the side you’d brought out. He was officially obsessed!

“Yeah? Well I’ve been wanting to give it to for so long..I never thought you’d fuck me..”

“I kept you waiting, huh? I’m sorry..guess it just means we gotta make up for lost time then, huh?”

plug!sukuna was thrilled to know that he’d no longer have to hold back because you were on the same wavelength. You’d have no issues matching his energy..so with that, he’d speed up those thrusts. Pounding you with gentle but well paced strokes. The sound of your thighs and skin slamming together, coupled with the sounds of both your moans, made for a beautiful chorus. Your hands around his neck, scratching at his back; legs around his waist and his muscular arms planted right at your sides. Drilling you just as you’d requested and there was no limits between the two of you.

“Yes! Keep fucking meeee..oh my goodness. I’m gonna come again!”

“You’re so fucking cute..damn..” adoring how you sounded squealing and laughing as you met his thrusts. He couldn’t believe how receptive you were and how it took no time at all for you to open up.

“And you look so pretty taking all this dick for daddy. I can’t stop staring at you.” That deep voice showering you with praise as his thick cock thrashed around your insides. Even though you had always been a bigger girl, he made you feel so dainty and small..like a precious treasure he never wanted to lose. “You deserve this, baby..to get fucked just like this. To be spoiled and get whatever you want. I can put you up..you ain’t ever gotta worry about shit. Not a bill, not rent, your family..I got you, baby. I promise. I love you..” You believed every single word and clung to them with every fiber you had. You’d never had anyone treat you with such grace and care before..and that wasn’t the end. He’d continue doting. Telling you how proud he was of you and how far you'd come. How he admired your strength to get out of your situation…he was in awe. plug!sukuna would continue singing your praises until he looked up and spotted tears coming down your face. He was tempted to stop until you told him that you were just fine. He on the other hand..was struggling to maintain his stamina.

“No no..please don’t stop. You just make me feel so good. No one has ever fucked me like this.”

but that alone seemed to ignite a second wind and in a moment of haste, you’d find yourself flipped over into your stomach with his entire body weight shifted on top of you.

“You mean that, baby?” Those outer fangs of his teeth glistening and mouth slicked with saliva as he began pounding you once more..hands pinned to your back and his frame covering your own. The plumpness of that ass ricocheting off of him as he penetrated those walls. You’d come once again, dripping onto the leather couch and making that aforementioned mess he’d been dying to see. This time, his pace was rougher..less structured and sporadic. He couldn’t help it..he was running on pure fumes, trying to give you the first time experience you deserved. Tugging your head back by those thick curls, plug!sukuna fed you the deeper strokes he could muster until those chocolate eyes rolled back.

“Y-yes! This dick is amazing..”

“Tell me who it belongs to. Who’s this good pussy belong to now?”

“Y-you, daddy. It’s yours! Oh fuck..”

never having uttered such lewd words in your entire life, you reveled in the fact that he had been the one to bring this side out. And now, you were about to bring a side out of him. One far more vulnerable than the public witnessed..one that would beg you to let him come inside of you and cry out your name in sweet ecstasy as he did so. You’d feel those warm seeds pouring into your womb as he came to a halt and you welcomed them. plug!sukuna didn’t hesitate to swaddle you in his arms for kisses and comfort.

“I don’t want this to end..tell me it doesn’t have to, Ryo. Can we be this way forever?”

“We can stay like this for as long as you want, baby. I’m not going anywhere.“

and it was a promise he intended to keep. Not just as your neighbor or the guy next door looking over you. But now, as your lover and the man who’d never leave your side.

[reveluving]

Ok, so Soap and shy wife. We all know he's the definition of sunshine/happy puppy and has the energy of an entire class of kindengarden. Imagine when they first meet the couple and he's all loud and jolly, and wife quietly shakes their hand and says "Nice to meet you" and he INSTANTLY quiets, because he's proud of his Darling to meet his friends/family, also because they're all wondering how she puts up with him🤣❤

LOSING MY MIND AT "they're all wondering how she puts up with him" BECAUSE THAT IS BASICALLY THEIR DYNAMIC 🤧💗💗

Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

You just know this man does not shut up about you every time he meets up with his team for work. 

And then, one day, he surprises them with a “she’d love y’all to come over one day.”

“Didn’t you say she’s a lil’ shy?” Kyle voiced out everyone’s thoughts, so to be offered not by the man himself but the meek lady in question was a little surprising, to say the least.

“She is, yeah, but she’s open t’meeting a few pals o’mine.” Johnny meant it to sound casual, but with his mates knowing him for a long time, it wasn’t hard to catch the hint of care in his voice.

And, well, it would be rude to decline a lady’s generous offer, now, would it?

Johnny’s hyped, no doubt, his friends—no, brothers, and his other half finally meeting in person. They didn’t even have to ask, just by the way he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel or the way he hummed to the radio, likely a playlist the two of you shared.

And with the boys holding some sort of gift for you, just as a thank you for the invite, you greet them by the door as soon as your husband announces his and his friends’ arrival. 

With Simon physically being the closest to you, you wiped your hands on your apron before holding your hand out. Simon nearly struggled with his strength, not expecting your lack of hesitation to greet him, out of all of them.

You introduced yourself, “It’s nice to finally meet you guys.”

Ah, such a sweet voice. So sweet that had Johnny not gone on and on about your shyness, they would’ve thought you were scared of them. But, you weren’t and the proud smile on Johnny’s face says it all. 

Why wouldn’t he? With your warm smile and even willingness to shake Kyle and John’s hands as well. Albeit, you had a habit of looking down every once in a while, especially if they tried to show their respect, i.e. complimenting your cooking, the decor or you in general, it was hard not to find you endearing.

But God knows how you, of all people, manage to put up with his nonsense. 

In the words of Johnny; “Opposites attract, after all.”

And seeing it now, to say Johnny was whipped…. Was putting it lightly.

It’s funny to see Johnny trying his best when it comes to lowering his gruff voice for you, even if you loved it just the way it is.

Though he has a lot of things to tell you, so much love to give you, you have his full attention the moment your lips part.

Each time you open your mouth, he closes his. As if fearing that one word from him would mean talking over you entirely, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that. The hearts in his eyes were tough to miss. He’s expressive, too, hanging on your every word like you were giving him a task when it was just you talking about how you learnt to make the lasagna you served for dinner.

‘SHUT UP, MY BABY HAS SOMETHING TO SAY’ type of beat, but it’s the man who’s saying it that has the loudest voice (and the gentlest heart).

But they’d be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy listening to the stories of how you met and how emo Johnny gets when the dates or outings don’t go his way, even though it all went well in the end.

Why wouldn’t they enjoy seeing his soul leave his body when you mentioned his baby pictures that his mother not only showed you but gave some to you as well?

“Johnny, c’mon, now, she’s a part of the family! She’ll need some photos o’you for when you move in together soon.” Says his mother, gifting you probably a stack of them, as if unfazed by the sight of you and Johnny covering your faces, the temperature of your body heat rising that even you feared you might pass out right then and there. He couldn’t even find the energy to stop his sisters from teasing him.

But besides allowing you to embarrass him a little, even if it wasn’t your intention, your home is another.

A small unit, located on the second floor. The candlelight colour, the cute indoor plants in each room, and the seats. 

Oh, the seats.

John nearly passed out just moments after he sat on it. 

Just by the way you maximized the apartment space, it’s no wonder Johnny always looked forward to returning home. Not necessarily the apartment, but to you. 

Dare they say, the visit felt like a ‘cultural reset’ (is that what the kids are saying these days?). Largely because one; they were able to finally confirm that Mrs MacTavish is a real person and two; one cannot simply ignore the dynamic you and Johnny have. It may be eye-roll-worthy to some, but Johnny learns it isn’t something worth fighting about. So long he has you, those people can yap and nag about it all they want. 

Bonus: John’s definitely the type of person to tell Laswell about it like it was some kind of a mission—like it was almost unbelievable to see you, well, you!

“M’tellin’ ya, Laswell. As soon as his wife had something t’say, he shuts up faster than when I tell him to.” He chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.

“Sounds like a keeper to me.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[sunflowerwinds]

sugar, sugar | v.a

summary: vi has crept up into your mind and is keeping put so to try to relieve some of that bubbling crush energy, you bake her some protein muffins. after delivering them to her, she invites you to isha’s birthday party. meeting her entire family is nerve wracking but you’re welcome with open arms.

pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane

contains: modern!au, kick-boxer!vi, reader is an actual sweetheart, MY family (vander, isha, ekko, jinx, & sevika mentions), fluff and flirty tension, kind of slowburn but not really.

word count: 5.5K

a/n: what do y’all think of my new pfp?😝 i’m so glad everyone has enjoyed that first part of this little series. the overwhelming amount of support has touched my heart, i’m so sorry this took two weeks to come out i will try and be faster with the next part <3 & would 3 parts be too short? lmk in the replies!

— TWO

Making protein muffins was harder than you thought.

You had tried out multiple recipes with different flavors within the span of two days and it was driving your grandmother and your sister up the wall. Her kitchen now smelled like a mixture of all the different scents that were giving her a headache.

They were either dry, not enough flavor, too dense, not fluffy, too strong, etc. The list went on. But finally, on the third day of anxiously cooking, you perfected a beautiful and delicious batch of pumpkin muffins with a few blots of chocolate chips.

Ever since you found out that Vi worked at a kickboxing studio, it sparked an idea in your brain. You could bake some protein muffins to give her. Worried she wouldn’t like them, you double checked with her. You open your text thread with Vi, grinning at the last message she had sent you of the actual address of the studio so that you wouldn’t get lost.

Anxiously tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you stare at the sign above the studio with hesitation. You had done yourself up a bit; just a tad. Okay, a little more than a tad.

This was Vi’s first time seeing you outside of work and you wanted to make a better impression than messily tossed up hair and bundled up layered outfits. You sported a mini black skirt with a pair of opaque tights with an over the shoulder cherry red sweater, your hair left in its natural state. You stare at the black marker writing of Vi’s name on the box in the passenger's seat of your car.

Would she think you were trying too hard?

No, no, no overthinking, you scold yourself. You tug down your sun visor on your driver’s side to double check your makeup before grabbing your purse and the box of muffins for Vi. You open your driver's side to step out onto the gravel parking lot, sucking in a deep breath to calm your nerves as you tug on the cold handle to the door of the studio.

The moment you stepped into the dim lit area, you spotted Vi almost immediately. A black compression athletic tank hugged her upper body, showing off her muscular upper body. Her bandaged hands were landing blows to a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. The sound of her soft grunts and the clinking of the chain holding it up the heavy vinyl bag echoed within the space.

You stand at the edge of the large mat covering the area, unknowingly frozen in place at the sight of Vi’s veins popping out of her biceps with each punch she was throwing. You snap out of it when you realize how long you might’ve been standing there for, clearing your throat and shaking your head at how embarrassing that was.

“Vi, hi!” You wave from across the rubber gym tiles at her panting figure, a bright smile on your face.

Vi lowers her balled up wrapped fists that had been previously punching the bag to wave back at you, a smile creeping onto her lips at the sight of you holding the little tray of homemade treats. You looked like a doll out of place in this sweat-ridden studio in your adorably cozy outfit.

Vi made her way over to where you stood at the edge of the mat, eyes panning up and down as subtly as possible. Seeing her outfit up close caused a heat to tickle the tips of your ears. You swore you could see her abs through the material.

“Hey, cupcake. Those for me?”

“Yep! Thought I’d drop them off before I… head out.” You cleared your throat, nervously smiling at her as you fiddled with the cardboard of the box you had bought for this.

Vi grabs a small towel from a foldable chair where parents would sit through classes to wipe over the back of her sweat-ridden neck. She was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. You couldn’t tell if you were staring at her as obviously as you thought. Worried you were going to seem like an absolute creep, your eyes blink as they focus on her face.

“Yeah? You have plans today?” Vi hangs the towel around her neck, crossing her arms over her chest.

The movement caused your eyes to flicker down to the protruding muscle. You were sure this time you were staring as her dark tattoos were glistening underneath the thin layer of moisture from her workout. God, you could hear your grandma now teasing you for getting distracted by muscles of all things.

“I mean I’m just going to the grocery store. Need a few more things for Isha’s cake.” You nod to confirm, flickering your eyes back up to hers.

They were somehow even more captivating than her biceps. Her lips twitch into a small grin, nodding slowly.

“The people at the store are very lucky.”

You couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto your lips.

“Shut up,” you look around at the equipment and trophies around the room to try and hide the heat that was undoubtedly forming on your cheeks. “Were you just working out here? Or did you have a class?”

“Yeah, I had a class earlier but it was for mostly 6 to 8 year olds so they didn’t beat me up too bad this time,” Vi jokes as she reminds you of her injuries from the last time you saw her.

You chuckle as you can only imagine seeing Vi with a whole group of children, gently encouraging them to take hits at her. Oh, your heart skipped at the thought.

“Yeah, I mean you look good now.” You blurt out without thinking.

Taking way too long to realize what had stumbled out of your mouth, Vi’s brows raise at your words as the faintest of smirks forms on her lips.

“Yeah?”

Your eyes flicker up to hers, self-consciousness washing over you once that realization sets in. Your mouth opens as you grip the box as some sort of comfort to ease the humiliation creeping up your neck.

“Not that you don’t look good all the time because you–you do! I mean, I don’t see you everyday but I’m sure you do,” you try and recover, voice becoming softer as you trail off.

Vi unfolded her arms from her chest to reach forward to rest them on your shoulders, faintly chuckling at your panic. “Cupcake, relax. I knew what you meant.”

You suck in a deep breath at her touch but you mask it as attempting to calm down from your frantic words.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll just leave these with you now,” you pat the top of the box, looking into her eyes. “I’ll see you soon so you can pick up the cake at the shop?”

Vi nodded in agreement with the set plan, taking the box of muffins from your hands. You nearly frown at the loss of touch that was somehow burning onto your skin even though you were wearing a thicker sweater.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon but,” she clears her throat, moving the box to rest on one of her forearms as she brushes her front pieces of hair to the side. “Did you want to come to Isha’s birthday party?”

“Seriously?” Your smile widens.

Vi nods, eyes crinkling a bit from her smile matching your own.

“Are you sure?” You question, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. “It won’t be awkward not being family or anything?”

“No, I mean. It’s a small party but I think you’d have fun,” Vi shrugs her shoulders, suddenly becoming more sheepish. “Isha wants you there. Couldn’t stop talking about the nice bakery lady.”

“Just Isha?” You tilt your head, hopeful that she would give you the answer that you craved.

Vi taps on the box with a small smile. “I want you there, too.”

Oh, your gram would be jumping with glee seeing this interaction. Your face ignites a flame at her honesty, nodding with a beaming smile.

“I’ll be there. I’ll just bring the cake then.” You nod, pushing back flyways from your hair.

“Okay, good. I’ll text you the address, cupcake.”

You nod for what felt like the millionth time at the pink haired girl, taking a step back to try to force yourself to leave her warm presence.

“Okay and if you like those, uh, muffins, let me know if you want any other protein snacks. I like a good baking challenge.” You motion to the muffins.

Please say yes, you internally begged.

“I will. Though, I doubt I won’t like them if you’re the one baking them,” Vi assures your frantic mind.

You grin at her awkwardly, not knowing how to take these little flirty gestures she would throw at you. At least, you thought they were supposed to be flirty.

“Okay, okay,” you wave your hands, chuckling sheepishly to yourself as you realize you’ve probably overstayed your welcome. “I’ll leave you to… your boxing stuff.”

Vi chuckles at your wording, pointing to the clear door.

“Have fun shopping. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you, Vi.”

You felt like throwing up from your nerves.

You had texted Vi later that day after dropping off the muffins what you should wear so that you wouldn’t be either too overdressed or underdressed. It was a child's birthday party, for God’s sake but you still didn’t want to be too out of place especially around her family.

from vi ♥︎ | Do you have any options?

to vi ♥︎ | kind of? i have ideas of what i could wear but i’m stuck :/

from vi ♥︎ | Let me see and I’ll tell you what looks best!

You nearly dropped your phone on your face at the message. Standing up from your bed, you scurried to your closet to pick out two options as you didn’t want to bombard her with photos of yourself. You quickly change in your planned outfits minus the shoes, sending both of them to her. You were panting from how you switched from one to the next.

from vi ♥︎ | Fuck, you look good in both

from vi ♥︎ | I was expecting this to be an easier decision but you really just look good in either.

to vi ♥︎ | violet :(

Could she tell how flustered you were from behind the screen?

from vi ♥︎| I’m serious

from vi ♥︎ | But if you want me to choose, I’ll say the first one!

to vi ♥︎ | thank youuu! i was stressed about that lol

from vi ♥︎ | You’re going to be fine. I promise :)

to vi ♥︎ | really?

from vi ♥︎ | Yes. You’re the lady bringing the cake. No one can hate the lady bringing the cake, duh.

to vi ♥︎ | yeah, yeah, okay. i’ll relax now.

Now you were standing at the front door of the small suburban home in that very outfit that Vi had chosen; a white tee with an espresso brown cardigan over it and a pair of your favorite baggy dark wash jeans. Your hair was half-up, half-down and your cleanest pair of Docs. You rang the doorbell just a few seconds ago, patiently waiting for someone to answer the door.

If you held your breath, you could hear muffled footsteps approaching the wooden door. The sound of the locks unlatching signals you to straighten your back, preparing yourself for whoever was going to answer the door. The hinges creak as it swings open to reveal Vi, sporting a welcoming smile.

Similar to you, she was wearing a brown cut off sleeve top, a white tank top underneath the open torso portion and a pair of black jeans. You try not to read into the matching colors too much.

“Hi! I was so scared I got the wrong house,” you chuckle as you stare into her eyes.

“Nope, you got it. Everyone is in the back. Come on,” Vi reaches for your hand, tugging you through the small house halls.

You nearly drop the cake as you urge her to slow down, releasing soft chuckles at her eagerness. You glance around at the cozy walls of the home, catching a few glances at a few family photos hanging and set up on shelfs. You made a mental note to try and sneak inside to get a closer look at those.

You step through a white chipping back door, Vi guiding you to the birthday party set-up for the precious child. Green streamers hung on the wooden fence to appear as vines as a photo op and a foldable table that was filled with wrapped and bagged presents with Isha’s name in balloons with a few animal print ones surrounding the inflatable letters as music played from a speaker. It wasn’t the coldest day as it was nearing the end of November but there was a slight breeze and the sun was shining beautifully to really wrap up the sight of this unknown family.

You hold up the cake underneath the white box, subconsciously gripping onto Vi’s hand due to the anxiety swimming through your veins.

“Come on. I want you to meet everyone,” Vi insists, a charming smile on her face as she walks up to a group of people that were sitting at a round table that had a jungle leaf tablecloth over it.

The whole table had cups of drinks in front of them, talking amongst each other with animated features.

“Hey guys,” Vi speaks up, her hand still holding yours gently.

A chorus of greetings overwhelms you in a good way as she goes around the table to name them off one by one.

“Okay, this is Jinx, my other sister,” she points to a pale skinned girl with two electric blue hip length braids, a few strands coming from the front to frame her face.

The girl smiles at you with kindness, eyes widening as she seems to realize who you are.

“You’re the bakery girl? That donut was delicious. I have full trust that the cake will be amazing,” Jinx nodded with a wink, leaning into the darker skinned boy next to her.

“That’s Ekko,” Vi chuckles as she points at white haired boy.

“Hi. Nice to meet you,” he grins at you, nodding his head at you to show his acknowledgement of you.

“Hi!” You reciprocate the gesture, looking at the more broad woman on the other side of him.

“And Sevika. Don’t let that mean face scare you. Just wait until Isha comes down from the bouncy house.” Vi gave your hand a squeeze, a teasing grin on her face.

Sevika huffs at the pink haired girl's words but manages to press a semi-warm smile on her face in your direction. You nod with a more timid ‘hi’ leaving your lips. You didn’t want to say it out loud but she scared you a bit.

Okay, she scared you a lot.

“I think my dad’s inside but I’ll go let Isha know you’re here. Be right back.” Vi, after what felt like ages, released your hand to walk over to the bouncy house that was filled with a few more kids around Isha’s age.

The second her warm palm left your own, a wave of alarm washed over your features now being left alone with people that were closest to her. You turn to the group with the calmest expression you could muster to attempt to hide how nerve-wracking this was for you.

“You can relax, you know,” Jinx was the first to speak, tilting her head at your tense figure. “Here. I can take the cake. I’ll put it in the fridge.”

She stood up, reaching her pale hands out to you to take the cardboard box from you. You thank her quietly as you allow her to relieve you of that worry, leaving you alone with Ekko and Sevika.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be awkward,” you shake your head, taking the seat opposite to Sevika to leave Jinx’s spot still open.

“Vi told us how nervous you were so we were kind of expecting it,” Ekko admits which makes you wince a bit. “But, hey, we could do some ice breakers? Tell us something that’ll ease the tension.”

You nod at Ekko’s offer, pondering for a moment as you pick out a random fact from the depths of your brain’s memory log.

“Oh, I went to the hospital when I was 7 because I swallowed my Polly Pocket’s purse because my grandma said I had ‘wanted to know what it tasted like’.” You offer, glancing between the two strangers in front of you.

Sevika raised one of her palms to cover her mouth like she was trying to hide her amusement from your sentence. Ekko’s eyes widened as he snorted back a laugh, causing you to proudly smile at yourself on succeeding on breaking the ice just a bit.

“Jinx nearly burned my hair off when we were kids. She was obsessed with making homemade bombs,” Ekko shared with you, pointing to a mark in his eyebrows. “I still can’t grow hair in this spot on my eyebrow because of it.”

“I got this scar from her kicking me in the face when she wouldn’t go to the dentist when she was 9,” Sevika pointed at her half an inch scar on her top lip with a shake of her head.

“Okay so what I’m hearing is to stay clear of Jinx,” you joke.

This seemed to ease the tension between you and the two completely, them nodding to confirm. Slowly but surely, everyone started sharing stories of their childhood as did you. You learned alot about Vi and her little family through these two, feeling more connected to them already. As you shared what your jobs were like, you feel a smaller frame tackle you from the side. You look down to see a head of wild bronze waves cling onto your arm.

It was undoubtedly Isha. Vi stood behind her with a sweet smile, folding her arms over her chest before she pats Ekko on the back as she sits herself down on the other side of you. You send her a quick glance, her brows raising as if to check up on you and you nod to assure her.

“Hey birthday girl,” you look down at her, golden eyes staring into yours.

She makes a delighted sound, snuggling more into you. You rub a hand over her back for a moment before raising your hands to sign that she looked cute, motioning to her adorable birthday sash and bunny ears over her black and white striped tee.

Signing right back to you with an elated smile, she says; ‘you look beautiful.’

Your heart tightens at her kind words, signing a ‘thank you’ before tugging her into a gentle embrace. Her back was a bit damp from what you assume is the sweat from jumping around in the bouncy castle.

“She’s excited for her cake,” Vi hums as she stares down at her sister with a teasing grin.

Isha nods enthusiastically at her words to confirm said excitement, looking over to Ekko and Sevika and signing something that you didn’t pick up due to her turning away from you. They both nod, eyes following over to Vi’s figure next to you with raised brows. You turn to look at Vi in confusion at the silent communication but choose to mind your own business as Vi’s cheeks seem to match her hair now. You didn’t want to embarrass her further.

“Alright, who’s hungry? The pizza’s here!” A deep English accent comes from behind the group, a burly yet kind looking man comes from the back door which you came from carrying five pizza boxes.

Jinx trails behind him with two bags of ice stacked on her own arms.

“You hungry, cupcake?” Vi places a hand on your shoulder, jerking her head over to the man.

You suck in a deep breath at her words, feeling Isha’s fingers wrap around your own that were resting in your lap. You were unbelievably hungry but knowing that this was going to be your first impression of Vi's father made your stomach churn, attempting to suppress your hunger.

But you push through.

“Yeah, I could eat,” you nod to confirm, turning your head to the side to give her a composed smile.

Sevika and Ekko followed you and Vi’s lead as you both stood up from your seats again to walk across the slightly overgrown grass, nearly tripping as a few more children passed by your hips and legs to run towards the table full of cardboard boxes of pizza.

“Hey, hey, slow down. One at a time,” the man told the group of kids, pointing at them to grab the disposable plates.

“Dad,” Vi called, taking your right hand once again while Isha still clung to your other.

“And who is this, Violet?” He questions his daughter as he places a slice on a child's plate in the line they formed.

“Hi!” You speak up before Vi could as you introduce yourself.

The man nods at your introduction, a friendly smile on his face as he plates another child’s plate. His eyes flicker to his eldest daughter with a raise of his brows before focusing his attention on you.

“Vander. Vi’s told me alot about you,” he states as he points to the pink haired girl standing next to you. “You’re the sweet lady who made Isha’s birthday cake. Got to say, I saw it in the fridge and it’s absolutely perfect. Thank you for doing that for her.”

You felt overwhelmed by the compliments from the man, strangely having the urge to hug him but only tighten your grip on Vi and Isha’s hands.

“Oh, it really was so much fun to make too. I don’t get a lot of cake orders so I was excited to test myself, I guess,” you assure the man of your adoration with the job.

“You work up an appetite baking? We’ve got some fine cuisine here,” his voice was playful as he motions to the greasy boxes.

You nod to confirm which resulted in a strong Dad-like laugh to leave Vanders’ throat before he raised a hand to clap on your shoulder, tugging you towards the boxes now that all of the children had gotten their own pizza slices. You release the two sister’s hands before looking up at the man.

The entirety of the birthday party quickly became a party game frenzy after everyone hounded down their greasy food. There was cup stacking; Vi won that one, pin the tail on the donkey; Isha won that, limbo; you almost broke your back trying to do that, etc. You saw a more eccentric and playful side of Vi, cursing her for being such a bright person around her family.

It made her all the more attractive.

When you ended up being her partner for the wheelbarrow race, you felt like a freak for those good few seconds where you were holding her legs up by her ankles so she could use her hands to ‘run’ across the grass. You kept your eyes straight forward for as long as possible.

They lingered a bit downward because why the hell did her ass look good in black jeans? You nearly won but Isha and one of their little cousins who had come to the party won that round due to you being… well, distracted for a moment. She stuck the middle finger up and stuck her tongue out at Vi quickly before Vander could see, causing you and Vi to gasp before she celebrated with her cousin again with a cheeky grin.

Your real enemy ended up being the three legged race. You and Vi’s hips were touching, arms interlocked as a bandana was being tied around your thighs to keep you from separating. You suck in a deep breath as Sevika tightens the fabric, patting the area to tell you two it was good.

“Good luck,” Sevika tells the two of you, standing back up to move on to Ekko and Jinx who were next in the lineup.

Vi grins at the elder, looking over at you as she brushes her hair out of face.

“Who do you think is going to win, huh?”

“I know you want me to say us but I have high hopes for Ekko and Jinx. She’s very scrappy,” you admit with a soft laugh, your hand twiddling with a loose fabric on your cardigan.

Vi nods slowly in agreement at your words.

“And Ekko?” She hums.

“He matches that,” you lean in closer before pulling back as the wind blows your hair a bit.

This Vi chuckles at, not denying that accusation. Vander moves to the front very end of the fence of the backyard, cupping his large hands around his mouth to shout the countdown.

“On your marks,” he yells, “get set.”

He pauses dramatically before raising his left hand upwards to mimic a flag and slam it back down before yelling out: “Go!”

You and Vi immediately start to move yourselves forward, Jinx whining that you two were cheating already. Vi’s hard bicep tug into your own as she tried to keep you two from tripping.

Isha and one of her cousins were catching up to you quickly, their little legs beating you. Some force was on your side that day as you had stepped forward with your free leg and rolled your ankle a bit on what felt like a toy.

It happened too fast for you to comprehend but you fell to the ground. You turned to your back side without thinking and nearly twisted your ankle doing so.

Vi’s hand attempts to grab your forearm but in doing so, falls over with you. Her body covers your own, her weight laying on top of your own. You groan at the impact hitting your stomach and chest, looking down at your legs to see that the fabric of the bandana had ripped which was what caused Vi’s body to be on you and not next. Her body shifts to lift her upper body up to relieve that ache in your chest.

Vi lifts her head to stare down at you with a concerned expression, hands on either side of your head.

“Shit, are you okay?”

You tilt your head down to how Vi’s hips were pressed into yours and look back up to stare into her twisted expression.

“Yeah, I’m… good,” you lied through your teeth as the back of your head was now throbbing.

Vi’s eyes were searching your own for any sort of discomfort. Your chests were centimeters apart as you breathed heavily to try and catch your breath, eyes boring into one another's. Suddenly, your head and backache were forgotten about. You swore for just a moment Vi’s eyes flickered down to your lips before pushing up off of you, grunting as she stood to her feet.

She brushed off her jeans before leaning forward to wrap her hand around your forearm to help you up and off the grass. You allow her to tug you upwards to your feet, avoiding her glaze like the plague.

“Ekko and Jinx take the cake!” You hear Vander start to clap, wincing out loud. “You two alright? Kind of got caught up in the competition for a moment there.”

“Fine, Dad,” Vi replies as she watches you brush off your own legs, sucking in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“A little headache but I’ll survive, Vi.” You shake your head, brushing your hair out of your face with a lighthearted chuckle.

You two sadly couldn’t speak for longer as Vander announced it was time for cake. Vi’s hand lingered on your arm as she ushered the two of you to the set-up, watching as Jinx carefully came out with the lit birthday cake. Your eyes round with admiration at Isha scrambling to sit still in her chair as her big golden eyes widen as everyone starts to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her.

Watching the scene unfold sent a bittersweet sense of comfort, remembering how you were once that small with a family like this. You hoped Isha could have this forever, security and love wrapped into one. If a tear left your eye, you’d disguise it as it being from the impact just a few moments ago.

The party died down slowly as adults and other family members came to pick up the other children that were at the function, getting pieces of the cake shoved into their palms that Vi had been praising since she took her first bite. Feeling like you had overstayed your welcome as the family was now gathered in the kitchen area to clean up, you quietly tell Vi that you should probably head home.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll walk you out,” Vi holds her finger up to Jinx, Ekko, Sevika, and Vander who were in the middle of a conversation.

“Aw, what? You have to go home already?” Jinx furrows her brows, huffing out a breath. “I didn’t even get to embarrass Vi in front of you yet.”

You chuckle at her words while Vi grumbles a sound of annoyance at her sister.

“I’m sure you’ll do it soon enough. And yeah, I got baking duties to tend to.”

“Well, I hope we get to see you more often and not just so you can bring us cake,” Jinx stepped forward to give you a quick hug.

You pat her back with a new sense of welcoming into Vi’s family, nodding in agreement with that statement. You say goodbye to everyone, making sure to sign Isha one more ‘Happy Birthday’ to which she signs back what you think is ‘Bye, pretty cake lady.’

As you walk down the halls to the front door, Vi questions: “What are you baking next?”

Catching you off guard, you ponder for a moment.

“Well, I’ve been dying to make some cinnamon rolls but kneading the dough can be tiring.” You huff as you watch Vi open the door for you, allowing you to step onto the gray concrete walkway that leads to the driveway. “Why?”

“Just… wondering.”

Then an idea sparks in your head as you lean against your car, turning to face Vi with a hesitant smile.

“Did you want to come over to mine to help me bake them?” You offer quickly before you could fumble and retract the statement.

Vi’s dark brows raise into her hairline at your invitation.

“You just want me to knead the dough, don’t you?” She teases.

You blow out a breath of air as you shrug your shoulders as if it wasn’t the first thing you thought of. “I mean, if you really want to. I wouldn’t mind it.”

Vi purses her lips as she nods, trying to repress her beaming smile. “Yes, I do want to.”

A sense of accomplishment washes over you at how you successfully made it through today without having any major screw-ups.

“I really had a good time today. I forgot how much fun birthday parties can be,” you grin sheepishly as you stand by your car, the sunset lighting up the side of your face beautifully.

Vi’s smile only grew at how stunning you looked.

“I told you that you would. You should come over more,” Vi shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head at you.

You hum with a playful smile as you bump your shoulder with hers. “So I can get multiple concussions? I don’t think so.”

“Well, I can promise I can try to prevent as many of those as possible.”

You chuckle out an ‘okay’ at her words, fiddling with your cardigan sleeve. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, the soft breeze sending shivers down your spine. Your bad habit of admiring her silently; nearly creepily hit you when you made eye contact with her, her brows raising at you challengingly.

“Right, yeah, so I’ll let you know when I have everything to make the cinnamon rolls,” you stated as your hand hovered your driver's side door handle, snapping out of your temporary trance.

Vi’s arms folded over the front of her chest, scuffing her shoes on the concrete of their driveway as she rocked her on her heels.

You find her eyes once again, taking in a confidence wielding breath as taking a step forward to wrap your arms around her neck. Vi was taken aback for half a second, breath hitching before she let her arms drop from their spot to hold you up your torso with one arm as the other raised to cradle the back of your head with her hand. You bury your head into her neck to cling onto the warmth for as long as you could.

“Thank you again for coming, cupcake. I’ll see you soon, alright?” Vi says gently into your temple, sliding her hand off of your head.

“Yeah,” you suck in a deep breath, “I’ll see you.”

Achingly doing so, you detach yourself from her embrace to finally get into your car. Vi stood in the driveway as you reversed and drive off, waving at you until you were down the road.

previous part -> next part

TAG-LIST: @strawberrykidneystone @lovinglynny @kylorey25 @loserbaby66 @eddiesdrummergf @jokermoonie @ranxiaolong @morphids @gayandcurious @oatmatchalatte @iamastar @saviourcomplexgf @vihxh7 @jinxjinxjinx12 @krilara @unear7hly @magical-rush

[i-like-writing-stuff]

never changing [ five hargreeves x reader ]

a/n: hi y’all! it’s been a hot minute since i’ve been on here, but after the absolute shit show that season 4 was, some sparks ignited in me to write up anything to take my mind off it 🙌

its not anything crazy, just fluff and banter since i haven’t written anything in years so it may be as poorly redacted as this season lmao

summary: five and y/n attend their niece birthday party together, yet separate

“Happy birthday, little Gracie!” You smiled widely, trying not to drop the wrapped present box as the six year old girl jumped into your arms, “Oh my gosh, look at you! You’re just getting prettier by day, aren’t you?”

You had just got off work in a hurry to make your appearance at the little girl’s birthday party at a decent time, in spite of the amount of paperwork you managed to bury yourself in lately. You knew how much it would have meant for the celebrated one to show up and you couldn’t bear to let her down, especially on her birthday.

After spending most of your life working for the Commission, and then a decent amount of time exhausting yourself in trying to stop multiple Apocalypses, your last six years have been pretty quiet as a lawyer. You really wanted to get out of the whole assassin thing, but at the same time couldn’t exactly move on from the thrill of the work field. Your career as a lawyer took off really well these past years, but inevitably it came along with the cost of always being stuck at work, so whenever your niece got the chance to see you, she was truly enthusiastic.

“Auntie Y/N!” She wrapped her tiny arms around your neck, engulfing you into a tight hug, “You are here!”

Nonetheless, these six years have been truly and undeniably the most peaceful time of your life for as long as you could remember.

“You literally saw each other the other day,” Five raised a brow, watching you and the celebrated one act as if you hadn’t seen each other in years.

You and the little girl shared a look, before rolling your eyes and turning to glare at the man next to you. Ever since Grace learned how to talk, you and her would gang up on her uncle for your amusement, especially since he was so keen on entertaining the banter.

These past six year have gone by in the blink of an eye, yet at the same time at a slow and steady pace. You spent most of your time working anyway, but still kept in touch with the seven siblings you’d grown to love.

Some in different ways than others.

“Uncle Five, you’re always more excited than me to see Aunt Y/N,” Gracie waved him off, making you burst out laughing, “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you anyway.”

“What is a good look on him anyway?” You smirked, making the little girl laugh, as Five swept her into his arms;

“Okay, munchkin, it’s your birthday today, but tomorrow I’m going back to bullying you,” He joked, causing you both to laugh, before the two shared a hug before you, “You’re lucky your gift has no return policy.”

The party had already started by the time you made it there. The playground was huddled by other kids around Grace’s age, along with their parents. The music was playing loudly over the laughter of children and you were pretty sure that most of the family had already arrived. It was not the most ideal gathering, but you tried your best to keep in touch with most of the family to your best capabilities.

“Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it!” Luther smiled, appearing from the crowd of guests, immediately giving you a big hug as his niece was still wrapped around Five, “Haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving!”

“Big shot lawyer doesn’t always have the time to stay in touch with family, huh?” Diego teased you, following suit, as you rolled your eyes, dropping off his daughter’s gift in his hands.

“Big shot delivery driver doesn’t know the phone works both ways, huh?” You smirked, putting your hands on your hips.

Diego laughed out loud as he gave you a hug, always in the mood for a back and forth short banter with you. After all, you truly were family, even if you didn’t always have the time to be present in the Hargreeves’ day to day lives. You may have met them in the original timeline in 2019, when you accidentally time traveled with your former partner at the Commission, Five, but after all you’ve been through, you didn’t need to have grown up together or be blood related to be considered that. And you truly were grateful for each and every single one of them, in spite of the many differences over the years.

After everything that’s happened six years ago at Hotel Oblivion, everyone went their separate ways. Allison was back with her daughter while trying to further her acting career and also help Klaus stay on the sober line, Viktor had moved to Canada where he opened a bar, Diego and Lila had three kids, Luther was “professionally dancing”, Ben had some run-ins with the law and Five, ironically enough, was working for the CIA.

“Well, you two are as annoying as always,” Ben told you and his brother, making Diego roll his eyes as he walked towards the gift table to set down your present.

“Please try to stay out of prison at least for the remainder of the year,” You joked with the man, making him roll his eyes as he hugged you loosely, “There’s only so much favors I could owe the DA.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben groaned, “I don’t even know why they let you work at the law firm since you still look like a prepubescent with no boobs. Even Five got a growth spurt.”

“I sized up to B recently, thank you very much,” You nudged his shoulder, before placing your hands on your chest in an offended manner.

“Okay, Gracie, not a conversation you’d wanna hear,” Five spoke up, putting his niece down, “Your aunt needs to learn some etiquette on how to act around children.”

“Funny coming from you,” You couldn’t help but wave him off.

You didn’t come in with Five at the party, but as fate had it, you did run into him as you were parking your car. He had just gone out to his brother’s dusty van to bring inside some more cookies for the guests. You kept in touch with him as well, but not as often as you would have liked. It’s not all that serious, but given the fact that you were a lawyer still climbing your way to the top and him being a top notch CIA agent, you didn’t exactly have the time to hang out.

At least, not as much as you’d have liked.

Five was watching you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and his hands in his pockets. He had the same look on his face as always when watching you. He had the same smile when he saw you in combat for the first time during your first mission for the Commission together, the same look in his eyes when you appeared for the first time in 2019 alongside him in your teen bodies. The same posture he had when he met you again in 1963 after months of not seeing each other.

He wore the same love on his face while looking at you when you and the siblings split up after the events at Oblivion.

And never once did you notice that.

Not once in these past six years you let your feelings surface.

“You know Grace is my niece too, right?” He couldn’t drop the small smile even if he wanted to.

“Since when are you such a family man?” You raised a brow, trying to keep a confident composure.

“Oh, something changed in me between the first and third time I traded the world for my siblings,” He lightly shrugged his shoulders, making you roll your eyes at the sarcastic remark.

You two never changed.

“Please, I was there for the twins birth,” You waved him off.

You rarely see Five, and even when you do you always try to act normal, as you do around the rest of the Hargreeves. Everyone tried to get you two together at first, since the apocalypse was over and there was no reason for you to not get together, right?

You really wished it was that easy. In hindsight, maybe it was. But you couldn’t take any chances in losing Five forever if something were to go wrong. Maybe some would see it as something stupid, or as if you wasted so many years, but to you- mentally, you were almost seventy, while physically nineteen. You had so much time ahead of you now, all that mattered was to get a stable career first.

Five let a chuckle escape, shaking his head in disbelief, as he looked at the floor for a couple of seconds. When he looked back at you, you tried to keep your composure. You couldn’t help but feel pathetic that after all these years, your heart still skipped a beat whenever he’d look at you.

“You’re doing that thing again where you forget that some other people are still around, guys,” Luther raised his hand, grabbing your attention once again.

“I got bored of watching seventy year old virgins,” Ben shrugged his shoulders, “I’m gonna go get shitfaced.”

“Always a delight seeing you, Benjamin,” Five said, as Luther followed the ex-tentacle boy suit to make re he was not about to actually get drunk;

“This is a six year old’s birthday party!”

You giggled, watching the two brothers speed away while arguing amongst the kids in the crowd. When your eyes laid back on Five, who was intently watching you, you couldn’t help but feel a small blush creep its way in your cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Spit it out, Hargreeves.”

“I said it’s nothing!”

“Fuck you.”

“Why?”

You watched him dumbfounded for a couple of seconds because of the only answer he could come up with, before walking away, hoping he would follow you.

When he did try to keep up with you, you looked away to hide the proud smile. Even after all these years, things were still the same with him. He was still so eager to spend time with you, he was still smiling at you and entertaining your conversation.

“Aunt Y/N, Uncle Five, come play in the ball pit!” Gracie ushered you from afar, already tucked in the plastic colorful balls.

“You heard the birthday girl!” You smiled, grabbing his hand to drag Five after you.

Even after all these years he would instantly lock his fingers with yours.

[monster-effer]

ADHD reader x LaDS headcanons

Summary: My headcanons on how the LaDS men would be with a reader who has ADHD. Content: Sylus x reader, Xavier x reader, Rafayel x reader, Zayne x reader, Caleb x reader (separate), ADHD mention, impulse control issues, money management issues, inattentiveness, forgetfulness, hyperfixations, Caleb being toxic™, a smidgen of angst, fluff, gn!reader, no reader pronouns mentioned (1.4k wc) A/N: These are some headcanons I wrote in response to a request I received on AO3. I included some of the traits mentioned based on personal experience with my loved ones + ones mentioned in the request.

To my ADHD babies: I hope y’all like this ♡

Sylus – impulse control issues + poor money management

You and Sylus have been dating for a few months now, and during that time he’s become well acquainted with a few things:

You are diagnosed with ADHD You are impulsive when it comes to fun purchases You struggle with money management

He has seen how you put yourself into tight financial situations because you cannot resist buying a special edition plushie that just released at midnight.

On multiple occasions you have spent countless hours and your last dollar at the arcade trying to nab a plushie that is smooshed into the corner of the claw machine. Some days you get the plushie you want and other days you don’t. But in either scenario, you end up eating ramen noodles until your next paycheck hits.

Although you have tried to hide this impulsive side of yourself, Sylus doesn’t miss a single thing about you. He has eyes, ears and a crow at his disposal in and outside of the N109 Zone.

He has no interest in trying to “correct” this part of you, instead he tries to help you in his own way.

He gives you his black card so you can impulsively purchase whatever you want, guilt free. And when you refuse to use it, he replaces your payment information with his on each website you frequently use to go shopping.

You eventually notice this and re-enter your information, but Sylus would follow up and replace it with his card information once again. He was relentless, and eventually you gave in.

He also (secretly) became the owner of the arcade you frequent so you get unlimited coins and can hog the claw machine for as long as you like without being disturbed.

He never wants you to fall behind on your bills or have to skip a fun purchase due to the limitations of your bank account. Sylus is filthy rich and has everything he could ever ask for, including you.

Nothing else in this world gives him as much pleasure as fulfilling your desires and he will always strive to do so.

Rafayel – lost in thought/ignore your surroundings

Every time Rafayel meets you in a new timeline, he notices small differences. In one you were a member of the royal family desperate to escape your responsibilities, in another you were an author, and in this one…he’s not quite sure what to make of you yet.

You were noticeably introspective, to the point that you often get lost in your thoughts. Blocking out any and every attempt to get your attention unless he is exceedingly persistent.

At first, this concerned him because he thought you weren’t interested in him. It felt like the ultimate rejection, and it hurt him deeply in way that he could only express in Lemurian.

But as you got to know each other you shared with him that you are diagnosed with ADHD. Which results in your inattentiveness.

Rafayel was relieved to have an explanation for this phenomenon and from that day he forms a new habit in response.

When you two are hanging out at his place, yours or in public he always carries a sketchbook with him. He never misses the opportunity to depict your visage when you are lost in the multitude of thoughts that race through your head.

Luckily for him, your mind wanders frequently when you’re together, and so far he has five sketchbooks filled entirely with your beautiful face. Some of the sketches are unfinished and others are completed with color, it just depends on when you come back to him.

Rafayel is always patient with you and never tries to “fix” you because you are his perfectly imperfect muse.

Caleb – impulsivity, daydreaming, hyperfixations

Caleb knows everything about you, from the various ways ADHD manifests in your daily life, to the fact that thunderstorms scare you.

He has witnessed your impulsiveness firsthand when it comes to jumping headfirst into danger. And although he’s seen it time and time again, it never makes it easy for him to bear. He feels overwhelmingly protective of you, he wants to hold you close and never let go. But he knows that you value your freedom and independence. So, he tries to dampen his controlling tendencies. At least the very obvious ones.

There are times when he has been mid-conversation with you, only for you to stop replying. And when he looks over, he can already tell that you’re lost in your own world. He takes this time to observe you with no repercussions. To really take you in, because you always berate him for his “creepy” staring otherwise.

And for completely selfish reasons he loves the fact that you’re currently hyperfixated on him since he’s returned from the dead. You may try to hide it, but he can tell that you’re absolutely obsessed with him. He thinks it’s sooooo cute how you blow up his phone, want to occupy all of his time when he is in Linkon and how you bombard him with question after question about what he got up to during his time away.

He knows that sometimes your hyperfixations don’t last long. But there are some you’ve held onto since you were kids. He secretly hopes that your hyperfixation on him lasts a lifetime, as wrong as that may be.

Although he feels a little guilty about enjoying it so much, he is in love with you. He wants no one else and it gives him a rush to know that you feel the same, in your own way.

Xavier – forgetfulness + daydreaming

Xavier has traversed time and space to find you again and keep you safe. He cherishes every moment he gets to spend like it was his last.

When he opens up to you, you feel comfortable enough to do the same. During your heart to hearts you share with him that you have ADHD. It affects your memory in a way that is hard to describe, but you settle on the description of “out of sight out a mind.” This combined with your tendency to get lost in your own thoughts has resulted in more than a few mishaps throughout your life.

Once Xavier is aware of this, he makes it his mission to always be by your side, so you don’t forget him. You try to explain that that would be impossible because he is such an important person to you and also your mission partner, but he is stubborn. Because to him, nothing could be worse than you, the light of his life, forgetting that he existed. Even for a brief moment.

When you lose track of time and almost miss an appointment, Xavier is there to teleport you to your destination.

When you almost miss work because you forgot to set your alarm for the 10th time in the past 2 weeks, he is gently nudging you awake.

He does not see your inattentiveness and forgetfulness as character flaws. They are just a part of what makes you uniquely you.

If Xavier has to serve as your personal planner and alarm clock sometimes, he doesn’t mind. Because you are the most important person to him.

Zayne – hyperfixation

Zayne has a sharp memory, so when you two meet again as adults he is already aware that you have ADHD tendencies. Now he sees you have an official diagnosis once he accesses your medical records for the first time.

He has a logical explanation for why you engage in the behaviors that others may find frustrating to deal with, like your almost unbreakable concentration when you are hyperfixated on something.

Your brain lacks dopamine, so you are naturally drawn to stimulating activities, which results in you locking in when a new activity, show, or topic captures your attention.

Zayne would never push medication used to manage ADHD on you, unless you expressed interest in them.

He would actively monitor you when you get into one of those hyper focused moods though. He would periodically bring you water, meals/snacks, snap you out of your trance for stretch breaks and urge you to sleep if you show no signs of winding down for the day.

IMO Zayne would be a very accommodating partner because he knows medically what’s going on and he would never get annoyed with you for chasing what fuels you.

But there is one stipulation, he wants to be by your side to make sure that you are properly caring for yourself. Because your health and wellbeing mean the world to him, as your doctor and your partner.

[arcaneauthor]

Skz reacting to you kissing them in front of the other members

Warnings: um some kissing ig? Nothing else really

Tags: established relationships, kissing, so much fluff, seungmin being a little menace like always, I think that’s it

A/n: have this while you wait for my long hyunjin one shot! Also I just started writing skz and don’t fully know how to write their personalities yet so pls be kind🙏

────୨ৎ────

Chan:

I kinda feel like this would be a normal thing for y’all?

Like you would frequently come by the studio while skz is recording to visit him

And you’d always end up giving him a little hello and goodbye kiss

It was always just a peck but you’d think you two were full on groping each other by the way the members start gagging and groaning

They honestly should be used to it by now but they just can’t help but tease their dad leader

Mainly seungmin

“Ew you like kissing old men?”

But Chan’s used to it by now and just rolls his eyes and focuses back on his work

But he can’t hide the smile on his face

He kinda likes when the members tease him, it really makes them feel like family

Minho:

Would definitely turn it into a spectacle

Ik he doesn’t normally like skin ship from the other member that much so many people think he wouldn’t like pda from the reader but I think it’d be quite the opposite

Like I feel like he’d be the type that would grab you and pull you in closer when you try to just give him a peck in the dorm

Like we’re talking turning it into a full on make out session

And he’s fully aware the members are there, that’s partly why he does it

He thinks it’s kinda funny to get a reaction out of them

I feel like there’d be a mix array of both groaning an wolf whistling from the others

Either way he’d just throw a middle finger to the members over his shoulder as he smirks into the kiss

Changbin:

I actually kinda feel like changbin would be a little embarrassed

Like at first he’d kinda forget the other members are there and kinda get into it

And then when he’d hear the reaction from the members he’d pull away with a little blush on his cheeks

Would have that cute little embarrassed smile that he does as he lowers his head a little as he murmurs a “shut up” to the members

(If you’re a stay I feel like you definitely know which smile I’m talking about)

Would totally never admit to anybody that he was blushing

Like the other members maybe Chan would tease him like “aw binnies embarrassed”

And changbin being his loud self would be like “HUH? YOU THINK ID GET EMBARRASSED OVER SOMETHING LIKE THIS?”

Like my mind immediately went to that men in colorful pants vlive he did with Chan and Han when he was yelling at chan for calling him out on rapping his line too fast and he was like “YOU THINK I RAPPED FAST CAUSE I WAS NERVOUS?” Lol

Just imagine him saying it like that if you’ve seen that live

Jisung:

This man would be SHOOK

Like I’m talking about pulling away like he’s been BURNED

Quokka cheeks are flaming red

Why do I almost feel like this man would let out a surprised yelp as if you’ve just attacked him lmao

Looks between you and the members with wide eyes like “did that really just happen?”

unlike with the others I feel like the members wouldn’t make teasing comments towards you guys

They’d just be on the floor ROLLING at Han for getting so flustered

And even though you were the cause of it he’d still hide his face behind you to escape his embarrassment

Hyunjin:

Feel like he wouldn’t get too into the kiss knowing the others are there

But also would definitely lean into you a bit

For some reason I just feel like hyunjin would be an amazing kisser

I mean have you seen those luscious lips??

Anyways that’s a story for another fic lol I’m getting distracted

like Chan I’d feel like he’d get his sassy eye roll going on when the members made a comment

With how much it seems that hyunjin and seungmin play around with each other seungmin would definitely tease the shit out of him

And hyunjin would give him that signature bombastic side eye

I feel like seungmin would keep it going to the point of hyunjin just eventually standing up to literally pounce on him

Seungmin would just be laughing like a maniac the whole time

Felix:

I actually feel like Felix wouldn’t be as embarrassed as you’d think

Like Ik he’s a smol bean but down deep I feel like Felix is actually pretty confident

Not in a cocky way but like he’s sure of himself yk?

Like I feel like he’d just smile into it

Turns it into a bit of a longer but still soft and sweet kiss

Just completely ignoring the noises from the members in the background

Like I think he’d just be in his own little world with you

After y’all pull away he just pulls you to sit facing forward on his lap and hugs you from behind

Has THE brightest smile on his face as he does it

Seungmin:

I kinda feel like seungmin wouldn’t like you giving him pda

Not like to the point of getting angry or anything

But I kinda feel like he’d pull an “ew” face lol

(And I don’t mean this as being bad or anything, I myself don’t really love pda so I get it lol)

But you probably do it to just playfully annoy him

Which is why you’d probably be giggling with the members at him

“I hate you guys” but he’d say it with a smile on his face so you knew he wasn’t actually upset about it

He’d probably give you a long kiss later in his room to make up for it

Jeongin:

He wouldn’t go as far as to immediately yank away like jisung

But he’d definitely be a shy baby

Ik he looks all grown up and stuff these days but I feel like little baby bread is still under there somewhere lol

Like his eyes would widen mid kiss when he really processes that you’re kissing him in front of everyone

The members wouldn’t so much as tease him like with the others as they would moan and groan about seeing their little maknae doing “adult stuff” lol

Poor thing would definitely turn red, covering his face with his hands as he sunk down

Would honestly be wishing the couch would just swallow him up

Probably wouldn’t make eye contact with you for the rest of the night because he’d just start immediately blushing lol

Also would probably keep his distance cause anytime your hands so much as touched the members would tease him about y’all making sure you weren’t “moving too fast”

End notes: well I officially finished this at 5am lmao. Guess I better head to bed🫡

[dameronspector]

He’s a Thunderbolt

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Avenger!Reader

Summary: You find out Bucky gave up his position as a Senator and now he’s doing free agent work with….a new team?

Warnings: Slight Thunderbolts* spoilers!!, First meet with the team, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Reader is an Ex-Shield agent, Tinge of Angst, Banter, John Walker Hate- click off if you don’t want that, no physical description of reader.

AN: they’ll always be the thunderbolts to me guys idc. I wrote this in a rush, hope y’all like this!

Ps: I won’t tolerate any kind of Sam or Bucky hatred on my page.

You spent the night at Valentina Allegra De Fontaine’s gala with Bucky, keeping him company and helping him socialise. It was clear he had no interest in it but had to because, duties. But both of you were bored so you hung around the corners and stuck to each other’s sides. He looked rather sharp in his tuxedo and hair slicked back, so that was an advantage, and he couldn’t keep his hands off you, constantly reminding you how beautiful you looked in that formal black dress.

Although, watching Valentina flaunt all the Avengers property (including the ‘A’ from the Avengers tower) like it was a fucking auction was making your head spin. Your whole life and fragments of your dysfunctional superhero family was just laid out in front of you behind glass displays like they were art pieces. It was weird, it was odd and you didn’t like her from the first time you saw her. You had warned Bucky about her, and luckily he had understood because he felt the same.

So naturally, you assumed Bucky would stay out of her way and do his job. You were happy that he was finally healing, his words lighter and body language more relaxed as the days passed by and if he wanted to work as a Senator now to improve the Brooklyn constituency, then you’d let him do so, happy to see him content in doing what he wants and to let him have the autonomy.

And then, Bucky called you the next morning after he had left for office, to tell you something important, and he started the call with telling you not to get mad at him.

“What happened? Are you okay?”, you panicked, thinking someone had threatened him or worse.

Bucky let out a weary sigh, “Um- well..you see..”, his voice trailed off, like he was dreading this conversation.

You straightened up, “What is it? Just say it, Buck, don’t stress me out like that.”

“I-uhh…I resigned…from my…position”, he replied in a guilty voice. You paused.

“I’m sorry, what? But- why? Did something happen? Did Valentina do something?”, you growled.

“No- I mean, she’s sketchy but I didn’t resign because of her. I resigned because I am…I want to work as a free agent again. Actually, I’m in the middle of the Utah desert right now with uh- some people”, Bucky confessed, his usual light and unbothered voice a little heavy and subdued.

You quirked an eyebrow, “You…resigned..to work as a free agent again…with some people and you’re in the middle of nowhere”, you deadpanned. Bucky winced.

You couldn’t believe this man. Everyday there’s a new discovery with him.

“Bucky, what the hell are you upto?”, you sighed out.

“Sweetheart, I’m coming home with… these people. I’ll explain it to you once I get back, okay?”, he tried to reason.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll be waiting. Love you”, you murmured.

“I love you too, honey”, Bucky replied softly.

-

The doorbell’s sound echoed throughout your and Bucky’s house and you went over to open the door to see-

Bucky in an all black outfit, his black jacket, his knives and guns holstered around his legs and waist band, hair messy and there were 4 other people standing behind him- 2 women and 2 men.

The blonde woman had a cropped bob and piercings with hazel-green eyes, she looked worse for wear but she was beautiful, the other woman was a brunette with striking blue-gray eyes which were observant and you noticed that her suit was very cool. One of the men was large, with a graying beard and a shaved head, he was wearing a red suit that looked, well, trashy. And of course, you recognised the fourth one right away.

“What the hell is he doing here?!”, you stared daggers at John Walker and questioned Bucky. The other three stared at Walker in shock.

John pursed his lips and waved at you before Bucky blocked your view from Walker with gentle hands on your elbows. The three of them stared between you, Bucky and Walker and the blonde woman let out a low whistle at the look of anger on your face.

“Sweetheart-hi. I can explain. Can we come in?”, he pleaded with his ocean blue irises shining earnestly and you huffed in disbelief. Everyone, minus Walker, stared at the scene in shock. Bucky had a girlfriend?

“First of all, why are you hanging out with him? And why is he here? Why should I bring him in our house, Bucky-”

“I know, I know. You can punch him all you want but please- let me explain to you first, honey”, he almost begged and the two women snickered under their breath, Bucky turned around momentarily to glare at them before the large, bearded man clapped Bucky on his shoulder.

“It’s not good to hide stuff from your lady, Mr. Soldier”, his voice boomed, Russian accent prominent.

You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“And who are these people? And what are you wearing, Barnes? You wore your formals this morning”, you glared at Bucky and he grimaced. He didn’t think about the details before coming home and now he was in so much trouble.

Bucky cleared his throat before gently moving you inside, making his way past the threshold of the door to enter your living room. The four of them followed behind Bucky and Walker actually had the decency to close the door.

Bucky made you sit at the dining table while the others awkwardly stood by the door.

“Okay, baby, listen. We know Valentina was being odd, right? Well, she’s involved in something known as the Sentry Project. She’s been experimenting on civilians unethically. One of the casualties is a guy named…”

“Bob”, all of them chimed in exasperated.

“Yeah, Bob. The rest of the participants died, he’s the only one who responded to the experiment. And she’s gonna use him as a weapon. He’s-he’s very unstable and she knows it. Airlifted him to New York to try and manipulate him into turning himself to OXE again. We’ve been trying to rescue him”, Bucky finished and squeezed your shoulders lightly.

You furrowed your eyebrows. A crazy experiment like this and nobody bats an eye? Crazier things have happened, but with your experience and contacts you developed as an Ex-Shield agent and Avenger, you should have probably found out about this before.

“Wait, what? How does nobody know about this?”, you asked in confusion.

“She was experimenting on him in Malaysia and she has a secret vault in the middle of nowhere which was heavily guarded. Plus, she’s got the money and influence—Likely bought a lot of the security and government officials as well”, the blonde woman responds, her Russian accent just as prominent as the large man next to her.

“Hold on, who even are you guys?”, you grumbled and pointed at them.

Bucky let out a breath, “Yeah, uh- That’s Yelena”, he pointed at the blonde woman and she waved at you with a smile.

“That’s Ava”, he pointed at the brunette, “Hi”, she greeted you and you gave her a tentative nod.

“That’s…Alexei”, he pointed at the big man. “Greetings, my lady, it’s an honour to meet the woman who made an honest man out of Mr. Soldier”, he exclaimed and smiled big before approaching you with his hand extended.

You stared at his hand and nervously extended yours before Bucky stepped in between. “Yeah, no. That’s enough”, he announced and pushed Alexei back towards the group.

“And…you know Walker”, Bucky replied meekly. John grinned, “Hey, haven’t seen you in a while-”

“Shut up”, you and Bucky cut Walker off and he raised his hands in surrender. “And this is (Name), my partner, who’s also an Avenger”, Bucky introduces you to the team and they all “ooh” at that, Alexei being the most excited.

You gave them a close lipped smile before turning back toward Bucky, “What the hell are you doing in a team with him, James?”, you asked Bucky in a stern manner.

Yelena, Ava and Alexei stared at Walker and Bucky and chuckled amongst themselves. “Honey, we have to work together. And…he’s kinda useful”, he tried to convince you, Walker smirked smugly.

You gave him a look before turning back towards the group. “You”, you looked at Yelena. Something about her was familiar, “are you sure we haven’t met before?”

Yelena blinked and before she could reply, Alexei’s voice boomed again, “Oh, you must be friends with her sister, Natasha. She was very brave, my Natasha. I was so proud of her”, he announced in a somber yet proud manner.

You paused, “You’re…you’re Natasha’s sister?”, you whispered in disbelief.

Yelena frowned, her chin quivering and she nodded at you. Bucky smoothed a hand on your back, his face shifting in empathy, “Yeah, baby. Yelena and Alexei, they’re Natasha’s family.”

Your eyes widened. Natasha was one of your really good friends. Ever since she passed away, you have felt a hole in your soul. Her absence was visible and huge. She would always talk about her guiding light—her sister. You never thought you’d get a chance to see a part of Natasha’s life again and felt your eyes tear up.

“Oh my god, Buck”, you whimpered and looked at him, he gave you a sad smile and encouraged you to go towards Yelena. You walked over to Yelena and grabbed her by the shoulders, eyes taking her in.

“You- oh my god. You’re so much like her”, you whispered, kicking yourself for not realising that before. Her mannerisms, the way she carried herself—it was all Natasha.

Yelena’s eyes shone with tears, Alexei smiling tearfully next to her.

“She used to talk about you all the time. Called you her guiding light. I’m- oh god. I’m so happy to see you. She was so proud of you, Yelena”, you confessed sincerely.

Yelena frowned and his lips quivered, tears falling down her cheeks, “Really?”, she asked in a small voice. You nodded and gave her a fond smile.

Yelena let out a soft cry and leaned in to hug you, her arms going around your shoulders and her face smushed against them. You stumbled back before catching her and hugging her back just as fiercely. After a while she pulled back and stared at you with bloodshot eyes, “Thank you. For being my sister’s friend”, her shaky voice confessed.

You gave her a wet smile and squeezed her shoulder before turning around to face Bucky, who was looking at you with a soft smile.

“Well, what’s the plan?”, you huffed out in reluctance and wiped your eyes.

Bucky opened his mouth before Alexei cut him off, “Well, we have to take down Valentina and OXE! And we will go to New York and ride to her place like soldiers!”, he yelled in enthusiasm, “For the Glory!”

You stared at him with wide eyes and everyone else groaned loudly.

“Dad, stop it!”

“That’s not what we’re doing-”

“How are we just going to storm her place-”

“Well, if you listen to me-”

“Oh my god, shut up! All of you!”, you shouted and all of them quieted down and stared at you like bugs under a log.

“You guys don’t even have a plan! You’re talking about storming her place, you think she’s not smart enough to amp up her security?”, you questioned Alexei. He sputtered and looked around the room in shock.

You sighed, “Anyways. Where is her place, Buck?”

Bucky swallowed, “Well, she’s the one who bought the Avengers tower, so she’s going there now.”

You paused, momentarily forgetting that the tower belong to the OXE group and by that extension to Valentina.

“Right, of course. Uh- let me know if I can be of any help. I can order something if you want?”, you asked the group.

“Actually, some food would be great”, John spoke up and you glared at him. Bucky turned you around and walked you into your shared bedroom before grabbing your phone to order some takeout.

You turned around to face Bucky, “Does Sam know?”

He froze, his face locked in with a guilty expression and you knew right away.

“Barnes, don’t tell me you just teamed up with these people without informing Sam. You’re doing that isolation shit again”, you asked him sternly.

Bucky scratched the back of his neck, “I mean- no? No. I haven’t talked to him…yet”, he murmured.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, “You cannot be serious, Bucky! You just met him. What’s wrong?”

“I’ll call him soon, I swear. It’s just a lot, for now. This Bob guy, he’s very vulnerable and very strong. We cannot let Valentina use him for whatever motive she has. Just let them crash over for the night, we’ve had a long day…Please?”, Bucky requested you with his hands cradling your face.

You stared at him in mild irritation and grumbled, “The girls can take the guest room.”

Bucky smiled at you and pressed a loving kiss to your lips, “You’re the best”, he murmured against them and you finally cracked a smile, leaning into him and kissing him deeper.

-

You stepped out in the living room to see that Ava and Yelena had taken their seats on the kitchen island, bantering loudly with Walker and Alexei who were trying to find something in the kitchen, knocking over your things.

“You can take the guest—What the hell are you two doing to my kitchen?!”, you screeched and pushed them out of the way, putting things back into their place.

“Get out of our kitchen”, Bucky sighed in annoyance and pushed Alexei out before gesturing Walker to join him as well.

“I told you not to touch-”

“I just wanted some water!-”

“Well, you could just ask-”

“I want something stronger-”

You and Bucky looked at each other and shook your heads. These were children in adult bodies.

You silently filled up a glass of water and another glass with one of Bucky’s leftover rum before placing it in front of Walker and Alexei.

The whole room quieted down and the two men picked up the glasses, gulping the liquids down.

“You guys want something?”, you asked the Ava and Yelena.

They gave you sheepish smiles before asking for a glass of water each.

Alexei finished his glass of rum and gave you a huge smile, “Thank you, (Name), you have been so kind to the Thunderbolts.”

You paused and the others groaned loudly. You smirked, “Thunderbolts?”

“Yeah! That’s us! Inspired by the West Chesapeake Valley Thunderbolts, Yelena’s peewee soccer team-”

“Okay! Shut up!”, Yelena yelled and Alexei gaped at her.

“Lena, don’t yell at your old man like that!”

And the room erupted in chaos, again. Their voices overlapping each other’s and arms waving around wildly.

Bucky was standing there with his vibranium hand covering his face and the human one resting on his hip. Pursing your lips to stop the laugh from escaping your mouth, you made your way over to him and circled an arm around his waist,

“So…you’re a Thunderbolt, huh?”, you cooed teasingly in his ear.

He groaned loudly, “Don’t start, sweetheart, I swear to god…”

You giggled and looked around the messy assassins and soldiers in your living room, their chaos and banter making your house feel lively. Maybe, you could adjust with them. (Except, a particular someone.)

“They’re nice”, you murmured and Bucky scoffed, bringing you closer to him with his metal arm around your waist.

“Spend a whole day with them and then we’ll talk”, he kissed your cheek.

You held the back of his neck gently and looked at him, his eyes exhausted and lips cracked.

“Don’t scare me like that again. I expect you to, at least, give me a heads up before making such big changes, okay?”, you pleaded with a soft voice.

“Yes, I’m so sorry, baby”, he nodded and kissed your cheek again.

The room had quieted down suddenly and you turned your head to look at the four of them smirking at you two. Bucky let out an exhausted sigh next to you and you chuckled lowly.

These four combined with your grumpy boyfriend was going to be an interesting and entertaining bunch, for sure.

-

AN: I’ll make a second part to this where we talk about #that post credits scene. I’ve written a similar fic for Sam but i wanna write it for Bucky as well, hehe.

Please like and reblog!

[goldfades]

2 LINES | JOE BURROW⁹ [014]

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine

FREE PALESTINE!

MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.2k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | domestic chaos at its finest. maisie and joe show up at the same time, bicker like siblings (as always), and you’re so over it—until maisie drops that comment. a bet over the results, and you realizing that maybe, just maybe, everything’s gonna be okay when you’ve got your little family by your side.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | language, lots of teasing/bickering, pregnancy themes, fluff so sweet it might rot your teeth, joe being the most extra husband alive, maisie being a menace, and hayes stealing the show as always.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | y’all. this one had me kicking my feet and giggling. joe in dad-husband mode AGAIN??? unmatched. maisie stirring the pot and being chaotic auntie??? iconic. also, hayes is just baby🫶 i took my time with this one, made it all slow and cozy with that warm, homey vibe. hope it gives you all the feels <3 feedback always makes my day!!! ✨

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘.

Not quiet—Hayes made sure of that, his little feet pounding down the hallway like a quarterback breaking free, his giggles ricocheting off the walls—but easy in the way that came with routine. Coffee brewing before dawn. Cartoon soundtracks humming from the living room. The low thud of Joe’s footsteps behind you, always barefoot, always half-awake, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before scooping Hayes up like he weighed nothing.

You’d found a rhythm. After two years of wondering if the sleep deprivation would ever end, after countless flights between seasons, stadiums, and home, it felt like you both had finally arrived somewhere steady. Domestic. Comfortable. Like you could finally take a breath.

And yet.

Some mornings still felt too big, stretched wide with memory. The sunlight pouring through the kitchen window sometimes hit just right, warming the worn wood of the table Joe built that first off-season. You’d catch yourself staring at the high school photos pinned on the fridge—faded edges, smiles too wide for faces so young. The promise of something bigger back then felt so far away, and now, somehow, you were living it.

You still teased Joe about the way he looked at you that night in the stadium lights—LSU on top of the world, a ring glinting on his finger and another hidden in his pocket. The world had watched him win a championship. You’d watched him choose you.

Hayes shrieked from the next room, snapping you back. His voice, so full of life and Joe’s stubborn determination, brought you right into the now.

This was the life you’d built. Solid. Strong.

But life had a funny way of throwing curveballs just when you thought you had it figured out.

The smell of bacon drifted through the house before the morning sun had fully stretched across the bedroom walls. It was soft at first, a whisper of something warm and familiar, pulling you from the edge of sleep. You stirred, blinking against the faint light filtering through the curtains, and for a moment, you stayed still—listening.

Laughter.

Faint and sweet. Hayes. His tiny giggle echoed from the kitchen, and then came Joe’s low murmur, soft and steady like it always was when he was talking to Hayes. A smile tugged at your lips before you even opened your eyes.

You dragged yourself from the warmth of the bed, your body still heavy from the night before. The ache behind your eyes reminded you of the one-too-many glasses of wine you’d shared with Emily and Joe’s mom after the party ended. You weren’t built for late nights like you used to be. But even through the lingering haze, there was something about mornings like this—slow, quiet, and simple—that made everything feel right.

As you padded barefoot down the hall, the sounds grew clearer. Hayes was babbling in that animated way of his, his words still jumbled but full of determination.

“Mix it, Daddy! I do it!”

Joe’s laugh followed, low and warm. “Easy, bud. You gotta stir slow. We don’t want pancakes on the ceiling, huh?”

You leaned against the doorway for a moment, just watching.

Joe stood at the counter, dressed in gray sweatpants and one of his worn LSU shirts, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Hayes sat perched on the kitchen island, wooden spoon clutched in his small fist as he stirred the pancake batter with all the focus in the world. His curls bounced every time he nodded, a mirror of Joe’s determination.

Neither of them had noticed you yet.

“Hey,” you said softly, stepping into the room.

Joe looked up, and the way his face lit up—just a simple smile, easy and familiar—made something in your chest tighten. “Morning, sleepyhead. We didn’t wake you, did we?”

Hayes’s head shot up. “Mommy! I make pancakes!”

You crossed the room, pressing a kiss to Hayes’s cheek before slipping your arms around Joe’s waist. His hands immediately found your hips, warm and steady.

“Pancakes, huh? Big plans this morning.”

“Big plans,” Joe repeated, grinning. “Chef Hayes is running the kitchen.”

“I do it!” Hayes insisted, holding up the spoon like a trophy.

You laughed and ruffled his curls. “Looks like you’ve got it under control.”

Joe leaned in, brushing his lips against your temple. “We’re trying to keep it quiet, let you sleep in. You were having a little too much fun last night.”

You groaned, dropping your forehead to his chest. “Don’t remind me. I’m never drinking with your mom again.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling against your cheek. “Liar. You say that every time.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him. “Yeah, well, this time I mean it.”

Joe smiled, eyes soft. “Sure you do.”

The morning slipped by in an easy rhythm. You helped Hayes pour batter onto the griddle—Joe’s large hands steadying his small ones, yours resting over them both. It felt like a scene from a life you’d dreamed of once. The three of you in the kitchen, sunlight spilling through the window, the quiet domesticity of it all.

It wasn’t loud or flashy. It was just yours.

But then—

It hit you. Out of nowhere.

A wave of nausea rolled through you so suddenly that you had to grab the edge of the counter. The smell of the bacon, which had been so comforting just moments ago, turned heavy, too much.

“Hey—” Joe’s voice cut through the haze, concerned now. “You okay?”

You forced a tight smile, straightening up even though your stomach lurched in protest. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine. Just... I think I need a minute.”

Before Joe could say anything else, you slipped out of the kitchen, heart pounding. The hallway felt longer than usual, the bathroom door somehow farther away.

The second you reached it, you closed the door behind you and leaned over the sink.

Breathe. Just breathe.

You gripped the cool porcelain, trying to steady yourself, but the nausea didn’t pass. It clung to you, persistent and undeniable.

In the back of your mind, a thought began to form—one you hadn’t expected. One that made you press your palm flat against your stomach without thinking.

No.

Not now. The timing couldn’t be right.

But your body told you otherwise.

You stayed there for a moment, leaning against the sink, cold porcelain pressing into your palms. The nausea ebbed but didn’t fade entirely—like it was lingering, waiting. The bathroom was quiet, the muffled sounds of Hayes’s laughter and Joe’s voice filtering through the door.

You closed your eyes, steadying your breath.

It’s probably nothing. Just last night catching up to me.

But the feeling in your stomach wasn’t just queasiness—it was deeper, heavier. The kind of feeling that settled in your chest when you knew something before you were ready to admit it.

You glanced up at the mirror.

Your reflection stared back, hair mussed, sleep still soft in your features. You looked... normal. But your hand drifted again, unthinkingly, to your stomach.

No. It’s not possible. We just figured this out.

The timing wasn’t right. You and Joe had finally gotten your footing with Hayes. The sleepless nights had become rare. The tantrums were manageable. You were finally feeling like yourselves again—like you had time to breathe.

And yet. The thought wouldn’t leave.

A knock at the door broke your spiral.

“Babe?” Joe’s voice, gentle but laced with worry. “You okay in there?”

You swallowed hard, wiped a hand across your face, and opened the door.

Joe stood there, holding Hayes against his hip. Hayes had a smear of pancake batter on his cheek and a wide grin on his face. But Joe—Joe looked at you like he already knew something was off. His brow furrowed slightly, eyes scanning your face.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked softly. “You’re pale.”

Hayes reached for you with a sleepy grin. “Mommy! Pancakes!”

You forced a smile, taking Hayes into your arms. “I’m okay. Just... probably a little hungover. Too much wine last night.”

Joe didn’t look convinced. He stepped closer, brushing a hand against your cheek. “You don’t get hangovers like that. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His touch was steady, grounding you. You tried to push the thought away, but with him this close—with the smell of coffee and pancakes still drifting from the kitchen—it didn’t feel like something you could ignore.

Not with the possibility pressing at the edges of your mind.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, but your voice lacked conviction.

Joe studied you for a moment longer. “You want me to run to the store? Get you something? Gatorade?”

You hesitated. The question you’d been avoiding suddenly felt real. Too real.

No, don’t say it yet.

“Maybe... some Gatorade.”

Joe nodded. “Sure, okay. I'll take Hayes with me.”

Your eyes met his, and he seemed to buy the excuse. You needed time to process this, without a screaming toddler and doting husband who really does mean well. There was a softness in gaze, like somehow he knew what was happening.

You nodded again, forcing a smile. And in that moment—in the warmth of Joe’s gaze, the weight of Hayes in your arms, and the faint smell of pancakes still lingering—it didn’t feel quite as scary.

Another one you hadn’t planned for. But maybe, just maybe, it would be just as good. When he left, though, you did what you always did when the world felt like it was tilting on its axis.

You called Maisie.

Because if anyone knew how to talk you off a ledge—especially this ledge—it was her. The last time you’d dialed her in a panic like this was two and a half years ago, standing in the exact same bathroom, clutching a different pregnancy test.

And now? Déjà vu.

The phone rang twice before Maisie answered, her voice breathless but unmistakably smug.

“If you’re calling me before nine a.m., it better be because Joe finally shaved that scruffy beard.”

You pressed the phone tighter to your ear, pacing the bedroom now. “Maisie.”

A pause.

“Oh no. What’s wrong? Did Hayes break something? Did you break something?”

You sank onto the edge of the bed, dragging a hand down your face. “No. Worse.”

“Worse than Hayes launching a toy at your TV last month?”

“Maisie.”

“Okay, okay! Geez. I just finished yoga. My chakras are, like, open and sensitive right now. What’s going on?”

You took a breath—deep, shaky—and stared at the tiny white bag on the dresser. The pregnancy test Joe had gone out to buy.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

And then, Maisie laughed.

“Oh my God. Again? You again? Girl—didn’t we have this exact phone call two years ago? Same time. Same tone. Are you messing with me right now?”

You flopped back onto the bed with a groan. “Maisie, I’m serious.”

“Oh, I know you’re serious. You always sound like you’re being chased when you’re serious.” You could hear rustling on the other end—Maisie, undoubtedly grabbing her keys without being asked. “But for real, did we not talk about this? I mean, you just got your life back. No more diapers. No more late-night feedings. You and Joe were finally getting your groove on again—don’t pretend like you weren’t!”

You covered your face with a pillow. “I know! It wasn’t supposed to happen!”

Maisie snorted. “Oh, honey. If you didn’t want it to happen, you and Joe should’ve been safe. What, you thought those post-birthday celebrations wouldn’t come back to haunt you?”

You yanked the pillow away and glared at the ceiling. “I was safe. We were safe! We just… I don’t know. Got comfortable.”

Maisie hummed, entirely too amused. “Comfortable, huh? Sounds like complacent to me.”

“Maisie.”

“Okay, okay! No more fake lectures.” She softened, her tone shifting in the way only Maisie could—like she knew exactly when to stop messing around. “Babe, breathe. You’re spiraling. Again. Same way you did with Hayes. And look how that turned out. The cutest kid alive. Even cuter than Joe, and you know I don’t say that lightly.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “This wasn’t the plan. We just got our rhythm back. We finally figured out Hayes’ schedule. I’m sleeping again. We have a routine. A good one.”

Maisie let out a soft laugh, gentler this time. “And if you are? You’ll figure it out. Same way you did last time.”

You didn’t respond. Because what could you say?

The last time, the fear had been new. You’d been two kids in love, still figuring out marriage and parenting at the same time. Hayes had been your unexpected blessing, sure, but he’d turned your entire world upside down.

And now you were just catching your breath.

“I’m coming over,” Maisie said suddenly, jolting you from your thoughts.

“What? Maisie, no—you don’t have to—”

“Already grabbing my keys. I’ll bring smoothies. You sound like you’re dying.”

“I’m not dying.”

“You sound like you are.”

You groaned. “Joe’s at store. He’s some gatorade for me, cause he thinks I'm hungover.”

Maisie’s voice brightened with mischief. “Ooh. Papa Burrow on a hungover run? Man of the year. I need to see his face when you break the news if it’s positive.”

“Maisie.”

“I’m just saying!”

Despite yourself, a small laugh bubbled up. Maisie always knew how to make you laugh when you least wanted to.

“I’ll be there in twenty,” she said. “We’re in this together. Again.”

The line clicked off before you could protest. You lay there for a moment longer, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of Hayes’s cartoons that they left on from the living room.

It was happening all over again. The panic. The uncertainty. The not-knowing. But this time, you weren’t alone in it.

Maisie would be there—smoothies in hand, snarky comments locked and loaded. And Joe would be back soon, walking through the door with that steady calm he always carried.

You just had to get through the next twenty minutes without having a meltdown. Again.

You gripped the counter with trembling fingers, staring at the pale morning light filtering through the curtains. The same quiet stillness settled over the room—the same uneasy hum beneath your skin. It felt too familiar, too soon.

Another wave of nausea crashed over you, sharper this time. You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing slowly through your nose, but the memory came back anyway.

Two years ago.

The same tiles. The same cold. The same shock.

Back then, you were fresh off the plane, honeymoon glow still clinging to your skin. You’d been so sure you had all the time in the world. Someday, you’d said. After the chaos of the wedding settled. After Joe’s season. After the perfect timeline you both thought you had laid out so neatly.

But timing had never been your friend.

The memory tightened its grip—

The little white stick. Two lines. Not one. Not a faint maybe. Two.

You remembered how the air had felt too thin that day, how the bathroom mirror had reflected wide eyes and a face caught between panic and disbelief.

It hadn’t been in the plan. Not then. Not yet.

You’d called Maisie, just like today. You’d sat on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, terrified of how Joe would react—if he was ready. If you were ready.

The sound of the front door creaking open reached you before you heard the voices.

Two voices.

You winced.

Of course they arrived at the exact same time.

“…why are you here?” Joe’s familiar drawl drifted from the entryway, laced with confusion. You could picture his face already—brows furrowed, lips tugging into a skeptical frown, Hayes probably perched on his hip like a mini sidekick.

Maisie’s voice shot back, full of mock offense. “Why am I here? Wow. Great welcome. Thought you had manners, Joseph.”

Joe snorted. “Didn’t answer the question.”

“Oh, so your wife invites me over and then get all suspicious when I show up? Typical. Classic quarterback ego.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

The arguing. The constant bickering. They’d always been like this—like siblings locked in an eternal battle of snarky comebacks and petty insults. Normally, you’d find it amusing. Endearing, even. But today?

Today you weren’t in the mood.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered under your breath.

From the kitchen doorway, you could hear them still going at it.

“You sure you didn’t just show up for free breakfast?” Joe teased.

“Oh, like you can actually cook without burning something.”

“Did you forget who made pancakes this morning?”

“Yes, I actually did cause I wasn't even here. Did you forget you still owe me lunch from two years ago?”

The headache behind your eyes throbbed harder.

“Enough!”

Your voice snapped through the house like a whip.

Silence.

You stood in the hallway, one hand on your hip, glaring at the both of them. Joe blinked at you, wide-eyed and almost comically innocent. Hayes let out a confused little “Mama?” from his spot on Joe’s hip. Maisie raised a brow, smirking like she knew something you didn’t.

“Can the two of you not bicker for five minutes? Just five. I don’t have the energy today.”

Maisie’s grin widened. Uh-oh.

“Ohhh, there it is,” she said, pointing at you dramatically. “The snap. The patented no-patience tone. Her tell-tale pregnancy sign.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Maisie—”

“Nope.” She brushed past Joe, who was still standing there looking like someone had just handed him a puzzle missing half the pieces. “Let me guess—you’ve been feeling nauseous? Snapped at your sweet, perfect husband who can do no wrong—”

“Hey—” Joe started, recovering from his shock.

“—and now you’re avoiding eye contact. Classic.”

Maisie didn’t stop, of course. She never did.

“No, seriously,” she continued, toeing off her sneakers at the door like she owned the place. “Last time you snapped at Joe like that, guess what happened?”

You rubbed your temples. “Maisie.”

“She was pregnant,” Maisie sing-songed, turning back to Joe with a smug smile. “You remember that, don’t you?”

Joe, still frozen with Hayes on his hip, blinked at her. “Yeah, and we were also careful this time, right?”

“Ohhh, you mean because you said you were careful? Like I’m supposed to believe that? Please.”

Joe’s jaw dropped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said. Men are notoriously unreliable narrators.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re in denial.”

“Okay, enough!” you snapped again, louder this time, pressing the heel of your palm to your forehead. “God, I swear I can feel my blood pressure rising.”

Maisie gave you a pointed look, crossing her arms. “Uh-huh. And what do we call that?”

“Oh my God, Maisie—”

“Pregnancy sign number two: irritability. Textbook.”

Joe sighed, shifting Hayes on his hip. The toddler, sensing the tension, looked between all of you with wide eyes, thumb halfway in his mouth.

Joe finally spoke, calm but certain. “Look, it’s not like that. We were safe this time. No way.”

Maisie snorted. “Famous last words.”

“Maisie, seriously—”

“Nope. We’re settling this right now.” She turned on her heel, stalking toward the kitchen. “I’m calling it. She’s pregnant. You’re just too cocky to admit it.”

“Oh, I’m cocky?” Joe scoffed, following her.

You stared after them, completely exhausted. “Where are you even going?”

Maisie tossed a grin over her shoulder. “We’re going to the store for a test.”

Joe paused. “Wait. You don’t have one already?”

Maisie looked at him like he was the idiot. “Do I look like I keep pregnancy tests stocked? You’re the dad. You go get it.”

Joe opened his mouth. Closed it. Then, with a grumble, adjusted Hayes on his hip. “Fine. But when it comes back negative, I want a full apology.”

“Dream on, Joseph.”

The quiet after they left was almost jarring.

You slumped onto the couch, sinking into the cushions with a long, tired sigh. The distant hum of the baby monitor upstairs blended with the ticking clock in the kitchen.

Pregnant?

No. No, surely not.

You rested a hand on your stomach, your mind swirling. You’d been careful. You and Joe had both been careful. You’d talked about waiting, about giving yourselves more time before adding another little one into the mix.

Still—Maisie wasn’t wrong. The irritability. The exhaustion. The nausea you’d brushed off as a fluke.

Could it be? You let your head fall back against the cushion.

This day was not supposed to go like this.

They were gone for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of you sitting there, spiraling, while Hayes babbled to himself with his toys on the rug.

Finally, the door creaked open again.

“We’re back!” Maisie’s sing-song voice rang out. “Guess who’s got the goods?”

Joe trailed behind her, plastic bag in hand, still looking skeptical. “I still think this is pointless.”

Maisie ignored him. “Here you go, Mama. Time for the moment of truth.”

She placed the small box in your lap with a flourish, like she was presenting a trophy.

You stared at it.

The words Pregnancy Test stared right back at you.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Uh-huh.” Maisie plopped onto the couch beside you. “Take it.”

“I’m telling you, it’s negative,” Joe said again, shaking his head. “We planned everything this time.”

“Ohhh, planned,” Maisie mocked, mimicking air quotes. “Because babies always follow plans, right?”

Joe pointed a finger at her. “Bet you fifty bucks it’s negative.”

Maisie’s eyes lit up. “You’re on.”

You stared between them. “Are you seriously betting on this right now?”

Maisie grinned. “Hey, you’re taking forever. We had to entertain ourselves somehow.”

You groaned, standing up. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll take the stupid test.”

Maisie gave Joe a smug look. “Fifty bucks, Joseph.”

Joe shot back a grin. “Easy money.”

The bathroom door clicked shut behind you.

You stared at your reflection for a long moment—hair mussed from the long day, eyes a little tired.

Could Maisie be right?

You opened the box with shaky hands, reading the instructions even though you knew exactly what to do.

Minutes. That’s all it would take.

A few minutes to change everything.

Back in the living room, Maisie and Joe were still at it.

“She has to be pregnant. I mean, come on—you heard her snap at us.”

“That’s just her normal voice when you’re around.”

“Ouch.”

Hayes sat between them on the rug, chewing on a soft toy, oblivious to the debate surrounding his potential new sibling.

Joe glanced at the closed bathroom door, then back at Maisie. “We were careful. No way, I know my wife.”

Maisie smirked. “Babies don’t care about ‘careful,’ Joe.”

Joe huffed, glancing again toward the bathroom. “Still. It’s negative.”

Maisie raised a brow. “You sound awfully confident.”

Joe looked down at Hayes, who babbled up at him. “Because I know what I’m doing.”

Maisie snorted. “Famous last words.”

Joe ran a hand down his face, glancing again toward the closed bathroom door like it might give him answers. “It’s gonna be negative. We were careful.”

Maisie crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “You keep saying that like the universe cares.”

“Oh, and you’re suddenly an expert on this?”

“I’m just saying—statistically—babies don’t care about your plans.”

Joe huffed. “You just want to win the bet.”

Maisie shrugged, smirking. “And when I do win, I want cash. None of that Venmo nonsense.”

“Unbelievable.”

You groaned from inside the bathroom. “Do you two ever shut up?”

Silence.

Then the sound of footsteps.

Before you could react, Maisie and Joe were both in the doorway, hovering like two overgrown kids waiting for Christmas morning.

Joe leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Well, the clock’s ticking. We might as well wait together.”

Maisie plopped onto the edge of the tub. “Yeah. Might as well.”

You stared at them, still clutching the test in your hand.

“Are you serious right now?”

Maisie looked up at you, unbothered. “Absolutely. We’re invested.”

Joe nodded, flashing that familiar, boyish grin that usually got him out of trouble. “Family moment.”

You exhaled, rubbing your temples. They were impossible. Absolutely impossible.

Still…

A small part of you softened.

Because even though they were both driving you insane, they were here.

Not running. Not leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts.

They stayed.

Hayes’s soft babbling from the hallway caught your attention.

You peeked out the door.

There he was—your little boy—crawling his way down the hall with determination written all over his chubby face.

“Hayes, baby…”

He paused, sitting back on his heels when he saw you, arms stretching up in that way he always did when he wanted you to hold him.

“Mama,” he mumbled, voice soft and sweet.

Your chest tightened.

You reached for him without thinking, scooping him up and settling him on your hip.

Hayes nestled his head against your shoulder instantly, thumb going straight into his mouth.

Joe watched quietly from the doorway. His eyes softened in that way they always did when he looked at the two of you—like the entire world faded out except for this moment right here.

Maisie, for once, didn’t say a word.

The bathroom suddenly felt warmer.

Not suffocating. Not overwhelming.

Just warm.

Hayes shifted against you, his tiny fingers curling into your shirt. You swayed slightly, rocking him out of habit.

You looked at Joe.

At Maisie.

At your little boy.

And the knot in your chest began to loosen.

Because no matter what that little stick said in a few minutes—whether it changed everything or changed nothing—you had this.

You had them.

And somehow, deep in your bones, you knew that would be enough.

Joe must’ve seen something shift in your expression because he stepped closer, slow and cautious, like he didn’t want to break the moment.

“Hey.”

You looked up.

His blue eyes, always so steady, held yours.

“No matter what it says,” he said, voice low and sure, “we’re good.”

Maisie hummed from her spot on the tub, teasing but gentle. “Wow. Look at quarterback over here, trying to have a heartfelt moment.”

Joe shot her a glare. “Don’t ruin this.”

Maisie raised her hands in surrender, but the smile on her face wasn’t sharp like usual. It was soft. Almost proud.

The timer on the bathroom counter buzzed.

The three of you froze.

Hayes stirred against your shoulder, but you barely noticed.

Joe looked at you again. “You ready?”

Were you?

You took a breath.

Felt Hayes’s weight against you, solid and warm.

Felt Joe’s gaze steadying you.

Heard Maisie’s soft “You’ve got this.”

And for the first time today, the swirling anxiety quieted.

Because this wasn’t just a moment that would change everything.

It was a moment you didn’t have to face alone.

You had your family.

And that would always be enough.

Slowly, with trembling fingers but a steady heart, you reached for the test.

And with both of them right there beside you—waiting, watching, ready—you looked.

Your fingers hovered over the test for a heartbeat longer, the faint buzzing in your ears louder than anything else. The world seemed to narrow, breath hitching in your throat as your eyes flicked down—

Two lines.

Clear. Bold.

Positive.

Your breath left you in a shaky exhale. Maisie was the first to break the silence.

“Oh my God—” she shrieked, practically launching off the edge of the tub. “I knew it! I knew it!”

Before you could even process the moment, Maisie was grabbing your free arm, shaking you like you’d just won the lottery.

“Auntie Maisie strikes again! I told you! Oh my God, Hayes, you’re gonna be a big brother!”

Hayes, still perched against your hip, blinked up at her with wide eyes, then looked at you. His chubby hand patted your cheek, as if confused by the sudden burst of chaos.

Joe, however, had barely processed the news before his protective instincts kicked in.

“Maisie—stop shaking her!” His voice snapped louder than usual, laced with panic. “She’s pregnant!”

Maisie froze mid-shake, wide-eyed. “What?”

“You’re gonna hurt the baby!” Joe practically shoved her back with one arm, stepping between the two of you like a human shield. “You can’t just shake her like that!”

“Oh my God, Joe,” Maisie groaned, rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t shaking the baby, I was shaking her.”

“She is the baby right now!” Joe shot back, hands flapping before landing protectively on your shoulders. “You’re done. Sit down.”

“What?” Maisie screeched, throwing her arms up. “You weren’t even sure five minutes ago!”

“That was five minutes ago. Now I know. Which means rules apply. No shaking. No stress. Don’t even breathe too hard around her.”

You stared at Joe.

His whole demeanor had shifted—gone was the teasing, laid-back tone. Now he looked at you like you were made of glass, as if the slightest bump or wrong move might shatter you.

“Joe.”

He blinked.

“Breathe.”

Maisie, still grumbling, sank back onto the tub, but her grin remained wide. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You shook her!”

“I barely touched her!”

“Guys—” you started.

But Hayes chose that exact moment to let out a delighted squeal.

All three of you turned.

He was clapping.

Little hands slapping together, eyes bright, giggles bubbling up like he knew something good was happening—even if he didn’t quite know what.

Joe melted instantly, face softening.

“Aw, buddy…” he murmured, stepping forward. Hayes reached for him without hesitation, still grinning like he was in on the secret.

Joe scooped him up with ease, holding him close.

“You’re gonna be a big brother, Hayes.”

Hayes babbled, pressing his cheek against Joe’s chest.

Your chest ached—full and warm.

Joe looked over at you, expression shifting again.

Soft. Sure.

“But you’re always gonna be our baby too,” he whispered to Hayes, pressing a kiss to his son’s head.

Maisie grinned from her spot. “Look at you. All sentimental.”

Joe glared at her again. “Don’t start.”

But the tension had eased.

You leaned against the bathroom counter, letting the weight of the moment sink in.

Pregnant.

Pregnant. Again.

And somehow, instead of fear tightening your chest like you expected, all you felt was warmth.

Because Joe was still looking at you like you hung the stars.

Because Hayes, your little boy, was clinging to his dad without a care in the world.

Because Maisie, loud and impossible as ever, was already rattling off how she’d be the best aunt again.

“I’m buying all the baby clothes,” Maisie was saying. “And if it’s a girl? Oh my God, the bows.”

“Calm down,” Joe muttered, but his smile was creeping in.

You stepped forward, resting a hand on Joe’s arm. He glanced down, blue eyes wide and searching.

“We’re really doing this again,” you whispered.

Joe stared at you for a long moment, like he was letting it all sink in too. Then, slowly, his mouth curved into the softest smile.

“Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “We are.”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. Hayes squirmed between you both, giggling like he knew this was a moment that belonged to all of you.

And as you stood there, wrapped in warmth and laughter and messy, chaotic love—

You knew you were ready.

Because no matter what came next, this was your family.

And it would always be enough.

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 4.5

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter warnings: porn with some plot kinda, this yoongi is very horny and is a very methodical masturbator (?) in the way he set the mood for himself (could be canon, amirite), let’s fix that boner you left him with, and let’s soothe your weary minds from that Dispatch article, POV switch after the article headline, idk if you know that one video of yoongi in d-day during the piano break in life goes on he does this thing with his tongue… it’s written in here somewhere

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.5k

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: December 15, 2024

✎ ˎˊ˗ A/N: Surprise! I kid you not, this was written within a span of like 8 hours? So if it sucks, that’s probably why, lol. Lucky for y’all I am too impatient to wait for notes milestones before I upload the next part, so here you go. 🎁 Also, @glossdebut, you know what you did. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |  Masterlist

“Fuck me…” Yoongi sighs, leaning further back into the computer chair. He runs both hands through his hair as the preliminary pinpricks of pleasure makes his cock spring to life under his sweatpants.

His phone is now propped on his half-empty coffee mug, of which the screen—maxed out in its brightness settings—is projecting the photo you sent through its 2x dynamic galaxy amoled display—of which his dick would personally like to thank his Samsung sponsors.

He is so horny he might just die if he doesn’t get off in the next five minutes. 

It’s your fault. Of course, it is.

God you’re so fucking sexy, do you even know that? Do you even realize what you do to him? He is literally about to masturbate in his multi-million won worth studio to the pitiful pixels you have afforded him with.

He stands up, curses you under his breath as he pulls his pants down to pool around his ankles. He drops to his chair, about to slip a clammy hand inside his boxers when he decides to adjust the view juuuust a little, zooming the photo closer…closer…  and that’s it.

Just the view he needs. (Sue him for having astigmatism.)

He grabs the aircon remote and adjusts the temp to a balmy 24 ‘cause it’d be hella annoying if he can’t get hard because his studio is an igloo.

Some velvety track with soft percussions filter out from his speakers.

A pump of lube from his hidden drawer, wet wipes at the ready for the inevitable clean up, and he’s off to the fuckin’ races. 

His fist wraps the base of his cock, coating his entire shaft with the gel. It's cold, but it immediately warms up to his body temperature as his palm slides up and down his semi. 

Greedy eyes rake your body on his phone screen. Your tits. They’re a vision. He can see just the ghost of your nipples, peaking in the slightest way against your silky top and suddenly his mouth is dry. What would they look like if they’re not hiding from him? For sure they’re puffy. Pretty jet-puffed marshmallows that he’s gonna be putting in his mouth and sucking until you’re falling apart and creaming with just that. He smirks. Yeah, he could do that.

He tugs at his cock faster, licking his bottom lip as he imagines the texture of your pebbled nipples against his tongue. He shivers, increasing the pace of his ministrations, cock now fully hard.

Back to the photo.

Huh. You knew what you were doing—squeezing your breast with your hand. The way the mound of flesh is about to spill over, and your areola is just kissing the edge of the fabric is actually killing him. It’s diabolical. Pure torture.

Had you been here, he’s scooping out that breast, the one you’re holding out to him, so it’s hanging generously from your top, wobbling as he bounces you on his fat dick. 

He feels his eyes crossing, caught in the spell of the hypnotic movements playing out in his mind. He moves his hand faster, cock throbbing and aching for release.

But he’s not there yet.

Closing his eyes, Yoongi lets himself sink back into the memory, rewinding the moments from just hours ago. The sensation of your weight against him is the first thing he recalls—the way your ass fits so perfectly in his lap, warm and soft, like you were made to be there. The way your body had melted into his touch, so pliant, so eager, grinding slightly like you were inviting him to ruin you, and he was more than willing to oblige.

Your lips—he can still taste them if he focuses hard enough—sweet, intoxicating, like the lingering memory of his favorite whisky. And your neck, the way it arched so perfectly for him, leaving him no choice but to press his mouth against it, the faint hint of your skin still ghosting on his lips even now.

If he concentrates, he can almost smell you again, that sweet, delicate perfume that drove him insane. It’s like you’ve imprinted yourself on him. Or maybe it’s the faint traces of your scent that linger on his hoodie, the one you pressed yourself into while straddling him and he could feel the perfect ass against his crotch. 

The thought is enough to send his pulse ticking faster, his head leaning back against the chair as a low, frustrated groan escapes him. He needs you. Fervently. Urgently. Needs you like he has never needed another person ever. 

Jaw slack, tongue dangling from the corner of his mouth, he imagines licking your nipples from side to side and his mouth stretches into a smile. He can almost hear you moan oh yoongi and wow what an ego boost to have you unraveling for him when in reality it’s he who is actually unraveling in his own damn hands. His cock is getting heavier, balls tighter at his impending demise. He tugs and tugs, collecting some of the lube that gathered on the base and pushing it back towards his angry tip, concentrating his movements there.

You’re not in the room but you might as well be with the way your name keeps tumbling from his lips. He is whining like a little bitch in heat, but he doesn’t give a shit. He hasn’t had a satisfying jerk-off like this in a while. He can’t even remember sex being this good. Nothing remotely like the way this fog of lust has him ascending to another plane of existence right now, because you’re so fucking sexy and so good to him and he likes you so damn much and suddenly he’s coming, warm spurts of cum oozes from his throbbing cock decorating his fingers like the rings he used to wear to the knuckle, and fuck he’s still going, there’s so much and god dammit his boxers are soaked but it feels phenomenal.

Chest heaving as if he ran a marathon, he stares at his ceiling, waiting for his heart rate to slow down.

Not long after, he laughs at his stupidity, pulling a wipe from the packet and proceeds to clean up. He sobers up from his horny thoughts, but not by a whole lot. Not when the photo that started it all is still bright and beautiful from his phone. Shit. He cannot wait to fuck you for real. 

Little did he know, something was gonna fuck him up come morning.

AllKpop Scoop:

Confirmed: SUGA of BTS Dating Actress Lee Sung Kyung

Eagle-eyed fans are convinced the duo has been hiding their relationship in plain sight, pointing to their undeniable chemistry during a past Suchwita episode, where sparks were reportedly flying between the two.

The story was everywhere. News sites, entertainment shows, gossip columns, social media—each one milking it for all it was worth. 

Darling of the press, K-drama royalty, multi-awarded thespian Lee Sung Kyung, had resurfaced from her mysterious hiatus, and of course, the headlines couldn’t resist pairing her name with “infamous idol Min Yoongi.” You roll your eyes so far back your head they almost didn’t come back.

The South Korean media was having an absolute field day.

And as much as it hurt to see it, your first instinct wasn’t to dwell on the sting of the rumors. It was to scan every word, every post, every thread, checking if Haneul had been dragged into the mess.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been. You’d be devastated if your little sarang had been implicated in any of these stories. You don’t know the first thing about how to protect the poor baby from these trolls, but you will be damned if you don’t try.

The photo that sparked the frenzy was everywhere—a shot of Sung Kyung leaving Yoongi’s Hannam apartment. That was it. No Yoongi, no Haneul, not even a hint of context. Never mind that the building housed countless tenants or that there was zero proof they were together. It was enough to send the internet spiraling into speculation.

You were scrolling through the comments under one of the reposts, your stomach churning at the sheer creativity of the assumptions being thrown around, when your screen suddenly switched to an incoming call.

Yoongi.

You didn’t hesitate, swiping to pick up almost immediately.

“Sarang,” he starts, his voice soft and familiar, like he already knows he needs to tread lightly. Bro’s really starting with the buttering up.

“Where’s Han?” Was your first question.

“My parents drove him up to Daegu this morning. It’s better if he’s there for now.”

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temple as you sit back. “Just answer one question, Yoongi: is it true or not?”

“It’s a big fuckin’ lie,” he says without missing a beat, his voice steady and firm. “None of it is true.”

“So it’s all bullshit?”

“YES.” he replies emphatically.

The tension in your shoulders eases slightly, and you exhale, nodding to yourself. This is fine for now. “Okay.”

“Okay?” There’s a note of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t expecting you to let it go so easily.

“Yes. Just get your ass here by 7 and not a minute later.” You say, firm.

A pause. Then, with the faintest hint of a chuckle, he replies, “Yes, ma’am.”

Part Five >

A/N: So???? I don't know what that first part was. It just took a life of its own. Anyway, as per ush, please let me know what you thought about the chapter. Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading this, you lovely, beautiful human xo

See you in the next half! :)

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[izzih22]

can u do one of Azzi and paige in the airport after Christmas like some cute fluff of them just being disgustingly adorable and obsessed with each other

Two States, One Heart

Notes: I honestly love this one. Also y’all can thank @pazzispizookies she made me post…

Paige yawned as she dropped into the uncomfortable vinyl seat in the corner of Gate C12, dragging Azzi down into her lap without hesitation.

“Baby,” Azzi mumbled, half-heartedly squirming as Paige wrapped both arms around her waist like a koala. “People can see us.”

“I hope they can,” Paige said into her shoulder, voice muffled. “I want the world to know I survived five days of Midwest snow and your uncle’s five-hour Monopoly game. I deserve this.”

Azzi laughed, settling back against her with a soft sigh. “We crushed that game though.”

“We dominated,” Paige murmured, already nosing into her curls. “You’re so hot when you scheme.”

Azzi swatted at her thigh, but it was light and full of affection. “Stop.”

“No,” Paige whispered, eyes closed, arms still wrapped tight around her middle. “Never.”

It was 6:04 a.m. and the airport was buzzing with post-holiday chaos—rolling suitcases, sleepy children, irritable couples in line for overpriced coffee. But Paige and Azzi were in their own world, tucked into a quiet row of seats near their gate, surrounded by backpacks and a paper bag of snacks Paige had insisted they needed “for the emotional journey back to Connecticut.”

Azzi blinked slowly, still waking up, legs stretched out and head now leaned against Paige’s chest. “We should probably sit like normal people.”

“We’ve been normal for two weeks,” Paige said, dramatically. “I want to be gross with you again. My PDA levels are dangerously low.”

“You spent all of Christmas Eve hanging off me in front of your grandma.”

“And she said I was sweet!” Paige grinned. “And that she’s never seen me smile like that. Boom. Grandma endorsement.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but bit back her smile. “You are sweet,” she said softly, fingers absentmindedly brushing Paige’s wrist.

There was a quiet beat, warm and familiar.

“Best Christmas ever?” Paige asked, brushing her nose lightly against Azzi’s jaw.

Azzi smiled, turning her head just enough to meet her eyes. “Best one so far.”

Paige’s heart actually squeezed a little. The way Azzi said it—not as a throwaway, but like a promise—made her want to marry her on the spot in front of Gate C12 and the angry man yelling at a Delta agent across the aisle.

“You were so cute in Minnesota,” Azzi said, drawing little circles on Paige’s hand now. “The way you got all protective over me when your cousins kept pulling me into snowball fights.”

“They threw ice at you, not snow.”

Azzi laughed. “I’m a grown woman, Paige. I can handle it.”

“You are a precious national treasure and I’ll bodycheck a ten-year-old if I have to.”

Azzi turned bright red, grinning as she buried her face in Paige’s hoodie. “Stop saying stuff like that.”

“It’s all true,” Paige said, smug. “You should’ve seen yourself ice skating in Virginia, though. Full-on Hallmark movie energy. You even had the scarf fluff and glowy cheeks.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Azzi mumbled, even as she curled closer. “You’re obsessed with me.”

“I am,” Paige said proudly. “Disgustingly so. Irreversibly. Tragically.”

Azzi tilted her head up, just enough to catch her lips. It was soft, slow, sleepily affectionate.

“Tragically, huh?”

“Devastating,” Paige whispered back. “You ruined me, Az. You had me hooked when you showed up to that high school away game in my hoodie like it was nothing.”

Azzi let out a quiet laugh, touching her forehead to Paige’s. “You were already obsessed.”

“You were literally the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen,” Paige said, eyes fluttering shut. “Still are. Even after fourteen hours of family chaos and sleeping in four different beds this week.”

Azzi flushed, hiding her face again. “Stop.”

“Nope. This is your fault for being perfect.”

They sat like that for a while, warm and quiet, lost in each other even as the gate filled with more and more people. Someone announced a boarding call two gates over, but Paige didn’t move.

“Do you think our families know?” Azzi asked quietly after a few moments.

“Know what?”

“That we’re… like this. Obsessed with each other.”

“Oh, definitely,” Paige said immediately. “Your mom gave me a look when I kissed your cheek while we were playing Uno and said, and I quote, ‘You two still act like you just started dating.’”

Azzi laughed softly. “She said the same thing to me about you.”

Paige grinned. “We’re just built like that.”

“I don’t think they mind.”

“They better not,” Paige said, squeezing her waist. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Azzi turned slightly to look at her, eyes soft and shining. “Me either.”

They leaned into each other again, and for a few minutes, the world didn’t exist—just the faint hum of the airport, the weight of shared travel exhaustion, and the kind of love that doesn’t need words to feel loud.

A little while later, their flight number was called. Paige groaned and stretched, grabbing their backpacks.

“Come on, love of my life,” she said, standing and reaching out a hand for Azzi. “Time to board the lovebird express.”

Azzi took it, rolling her eyes fondly. “It’s just a normal flight, babe.”

“Wrong,” Paige whispered as she pulled her in close for a kiss on the forehead. “It’s a flight where I get to sit next to my girlfriend and stare at her while she sleeps for two hours. It’s practically a honeymoon.”

Azzi blushed furiously but didn’t let go of her hand. “You’re embarrassing.”

“And you love it.”

Azzi nodded, already leaning into her side as they walked toward the gate. “Unfortunately, yeah. I do.”

[oceantornadoo]

merry xmas! some platonic family fluff with johnny for y’all

ch3 the wrong john | masterlist | next

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

—

When you wake, John is gone.

Predictable, really. Isn’t that what you wanted? A simple fuck, something to hold you over before sticking around this unknown city for however long Johnny tolerated you. John’s dirty talk and possessive demeanor had woken something inside you and now it was gone, lost to hotel sheets and your alcohol-drenched brain. For some odd, unimportant reason, you felt a sense of disappointment that he didn’t stay. You scanned your bedtable for a note or something and came up empty. A feeling of abandonment sank low in your stomach and you tried to tune it out by focusing on the fun you’d had with John. One of your hands slithered down your naked stomach, eyes closing as you tried to recreate a scene from a few hours ago when John woke you up with his tongue. “Open those legs f’ me, that’s a good girl.” You squeezed your eyes shut in an effort to imagine John’s deep baritone. “C’mon, one more. Jus’ f’ me, yeah?” You found yourself nodding along to that phantom voice, fingers circling your sore clit harder and harder, orgasm starting to crest and-

Ding!

Your phone, abandoned in your bag somewhere, was hit with a barrage of texts. You checked the clock and shit, it was already 9:30am. So much for primping before visiting Johnny. With legs like jelly, you slowly walked over and dug through your purse to find your half-dead phone.

Idiot half: We still on for 1000?

Idiot half: Was going to suggest breakfast but training is going over time, fucking rookies. Think the team’s free for lunch if you want.

Idiot half: Let me know when you’re on the way.

Your heart ached with the sincerity Johnny showed over text. He was all jokes in public, but when it was just you two, you could feel your twin’s want for your affection. You two were more similar than you gave credit to. Plugging in your phone, you texted him back a “might be a little late!”, then jumped into the shower and started your day.

45 minutes later, your cab pulled up in front of a stoic-looking military base. “‘Fraid I can’t get ya any closer, miss. This one’s real locked down.” You thanked the driver anyways, paying him then stepping out. Before you could even wonder how to actually get in (should you just walk to the drive up? That seemed undignified), there was a figure with a ridiculous mohawk striding past the front guards, dressed in fully fatigues. 

“M'eudail!” The stupid urge to run towards Johnny bubbled up inside you, a remnant of your shared childhood. Instead, you quickened your walking pace until you met him at a guarded entrance, blinking twice at how it looked more like a prison than a place of work. Johnny disregarded the guards and attacked you with a hug, his familiar scent of pine and musk invading your senses. Tears were forming in your eyes for some unknown reason, surely not connected to a reunion with your twin.

“Missed ye, hen.” You nodded against him where your cheek was tucked into the curve of his neck. He’d certainly gotten beefier since the last time you saw him, his shoulder muscles digging into your arms around his upper half. “Missed you too, Johnny.” You pulled back a little and Johnny noticed the tears before you could wipe them away. His thumbs were callused but gentle, swiping at your skin until it was dry. “Knew I was y’r favorite.” You scoffed, not meeting his eyes. “Shut up, Johnny. It’s allergies.” He tugged you back into his arms, his stupid twin telepathy reading you too well. “Aye, I ken. Y’know I love you too.” Johnny held you until your tears dried, being a complete gentleman and not acknowledging how puffy your eyes had become when you pulled back. 

“Thought I was here to meet your boyfriend, huh? Or is he conveniently ‘off base’?” You used finger quotes to emphasize your rag. Johnny rolled his eyes, tucking you under his arm and marching you into a scary-looking building. It was so utilitarian it made your eyes burn, all slick concrete and bulletproof windows. Not exactly warm and fuzzy.

“Yer jus’ jealous because yer single, hen. I see right through ye.” He marched you both straight past the guards, then produced a visitor pass out of one of his many pockets and put it around your neck. “Pretty necklace, just for ye.” You rolled your eyes, then elbowed him in the side. No matter what, Johnny could always make you act like a moody teenager. 

You bickered back and forth as Johnny showed you around. “An’ here’s the mess.” (“Bet they cook better than you, Johnny.”) “Common room.” (“Do you guys play shooter games or is that too close to home?”) “Finally, ‘eres where we’re goin’. Trainin’ room.”

It was more than a room, it was a building. It seemed at least two basketball gyms wide, filled with training equipment, a track, and tools that seemed more fit to be in a torture chamber. At one corner of the room, there was a massive hunk of a man yelling at scrawny soldiers you figured were recruits. He was built like a tree, legs and arms thick as trunks while his face was covered with a plain black balaclava. He looked like an intruder you’d had nightmares about.

“An’ ‘eres the L.T. Or Ghost if ye think he’s scary lookin’. The boyfriend, but that’s confidential.” Johnny winked as your mouth dropped. This was the “cuddly fucker” your brother was in love with? He seemed more fit to be the Winter Soldier.

Ghost looked up at the sight of you two approaching. He barked something to the recruits and they scattered, sprinting towards the weightlifting equipment like their lives depended on it. With the way Ghost looked, it might be true.

“Alright, love?” Who was he talking to? You glanced around and oh, Johnny was nodding. You couldn’t have even imagined Ghost would call your brother love in a soft-sounding tone. “‘Ere she is, L.T.. My baby sister.” You rolled your eyes unconsciously. He was older by three minutes.

“Nice to, um, meet you. Johnny didn’t mention it was Halloween year-round here.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. The joke just burst out of your mouth, not even checking in with your brain first. All you could do was watch for his reaction in the stunned silence.

“Johnny, ya didn’t say she was funnier tha’ you. Welcome t’ base, bird.” He pulled you in for a one-armed hug that was over before it started, ruffling your hair before pushing you back out. You glanced back at Johnny and he gave you a wink, pride evident in his face. It warmed your belly and spread to your heart, relaxing your shoulders and spine. Everything was fine. In fact, you probably didn’t even need a drink last night. That thought turned to John real fast, and you shut it down before it started something.

Johnny was clearly the talker of the two, ushering you both out of the training room to meet “Gaz and Cap.” It conjured thoughts of an old-time captain, a man with white hair and a big belly. Wait, maybe that was Santa? Your lack of sleep was really impacting your critical thinking skills.

Excitement and nerves were written clear as day on Johnny’s face as you three neared an official-looking door. He stopped outside of it, Simon at his shoulder blocking the name plate you guessed held their captain’s name. They glanced at each other and Simon squeezed his bicep, words of encouragement flowing unspoken between them. For a second, the smallest millisecond, you felt that familiar yearning for an easy bond like theirs. Something private and sacred.

Johnny nodded to no one in particular, then knocked twice on the door. A muffled “come in” followed swiftly, and he opened the door partially. There was a man sitting in a chair near the door with a baseball hat blocking most of his face. “Bonnie, ‘eres Gaz.” You waved shyly, intimidated by the blinding half-smile he sent your way when he tilted his face up. Your mouth opened, about to ask if he was a Lieutenant too, when Johnny opened the door all the way and pushed you towards the man sitting behind the desk.

“An’ ‘eres the Captain, Cap’n Price.” Your mouth, clearly having disconnected from the rest of your brain, stayed open at the sight before you. At the sight you’d seen 12 hours before in a dark bar, 6 hours before tangled in your sheets, murmuring sweet nothings into your ear. He seemed to remember that fact as well, blazing eyes locking onto yours like there was no one else in the room.

“But you can call me John, sweetheart.”

-

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[quietstormxr]

Green Dragon Part 2

Xaden Riorson x Reader

The requested Part 2! I hope y’all enjoy the continued angst, along with fluff and happy ending. Thanks so much for reading and loving the first part!

Word Count : Over 9k

Warnings: violence, torture, swearing

Part 1

Even though your relationship with Xaden never improved, you felt yourself finally willing to talk with the rest of the boys. 

Months after the first time Bodhi said he wanted to talk to you again, you were finally back to hanging out the way you used to. Sometimes he would bring Garrick and Liam with him when you would go and hang out at the river. 

Your favorite times to hang out with them was sunset, but one night you found yourself with Bodhi and Garrick staring up at the stars. 

“You know this reminds me of the time that Xaden and I first found you sneaking out of the dorms as a first year.” Garrick states. 

You turn to look at him and aren’t afraid to let him see the happiness the memory brings along with the sadness at the mention of Xaden. 

“You told us that we should always take time to look at the sky and appreciate the beauty around us.” He continued. “That was after you tried to take both of us on to stop from getting told to get back to the citadel.” I smile back at the amused look he now has on his face.

“I can’t help the fact that neither one of you would just let me enjoy the stars. Besides, if the two of you hadn’t found me out here, we probably wouldn’t be friends. It’s not my fault that you thought I was trying to uncover your secrets.” I huff back at him, earning an eyeroll from the man after mentioning their secrets.

“Yeah well, we didn’t plan on letting you in on any secrets.” He snarked, even though you knew there was really no menace behind it. 

“Too late for that now.” You say as you give him a saccharine sweet smile.

It wasn’t your fault that the entire group adopted you into their family. You supposed you were just lucky. Although, you knew that if you hadn’t come across that one letter that was irresponsibly tossed, you would’ve never learned the truth either.

‘You were smarter and more observant than the Wingleader gives you credit for.’ Cedri concluded in your mind.

Another smile breaks out over your face at your dragon’s continued skills to make you feel like you were too clever for your own good. At least you knew that was one way you got on Xaden’s nerves. For some reason, he could never predict what information you could get out of anyone. Even though he tried to keep things from you, you always seemed to pick them apart and discover what they were doing. 

‘Besides, you needed to know what we are up against if you were going to fight like the Wingleader expects you to.’ 

‘Yes, well I suppose I won’t have to live up to his expectations anymore.’ I sass back not wanting to talk about the “Wingleader” with my dragon.

‘You may not want to talk about him, but that doesn’t stop your thoughts.’ Cedri muses into your mind.

You can’t help the labored sigh that breaks from you after your dragon points out your inability to let Xaden go completely.

‘Thank you, Oh Illustrious One, for pointing out my human weakness of emotions for the millionth time.’ You sigh back to him. If only you could block him out from your emotional thoughts, maybe he wouldn’t be pulling on your weakness for what seems like the thousandth time. 

Cedri huffs in your mind, the sound of amusement reverberating from your bond. You may have tried to move on, but that didn’t stop the fact that you still had feelings for Xaden that were more than just caring if he was alive.

“What’s got you huffing?” Bodhi asks from your other side, amusement laced in his tone.

“Oh, just a nosy dragon commenting on my internal thoughts.” You chime back at him, letting out another sigh before you let your head drop to Bodhi’s shoulder enjoying the quiet night with sparkling stars. 

In the absence of Xaden, you had gotten closer to Bodhi, especially since he was now in your squad, and you were still spending a good amount of time with your squad members. It was perfectly ridiculous you thought. Of course, you would now be extremely close friends with the cousin of the man that seemed to still haunt you. 

Though it was a perfect distraction for you both. Bodhi had told you that the time he spent with Xaden had significantly diminished since War Games had begun. You had begun a new routine with him helping you train after dinner for an hour almost every night. Even Garrick would join in whenever he was available and needed to blow off some steam. 

It was one of those sparring nights when you found yourself laying on the mat trying to regain your breath after a spar with Garrick. You couldn’t keep the smile from your face and the contagious laugh that broke out as you and Bodhi had been teasing Garrick about his obvious interest in Imogen. 

You were so caught up in your enjoyment that you didn’t even hear the door to the gym open. Therefore, it was even more surprising when you sat up from the mat and ended up looking directly back into those onyx eyes you hadn’t had the courage to meet in some time. 

The laughter immediately died from your lips, and you found yourself getting up and turning towards the girl’s locker rooms. 

“I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” You threw over your shoulder to your two sparring partners.

You hadn’t even taken two steps before you felt a hand close around your wrist. You immediately knew who it was, with the memories of those calloused hands flashing brightly in your mind. Your heart began to race, and you battled with yourself if you really wanted to turn around and face the man that had a hold on your wrist. 

Deciding on trying to save yourself from spiraling, you gently tugged on your hand hoping that he would just let it drop. Unfortunately for you, it didn’t seem like Xaden was in the mood to acquiesce to your wants. 

You turned around to face the man that you had been studiously avoiding for the last five months and looked at your hand where he still had his wrapped around your wrist. You kept your eyes trained down, not wanting to look up and see what exactly was in Xaden’s inner monologue of his eyes. You could have kept it that way until he decided he was going to speak.

“Look at me, please.” He asked, his voice quieter than you had ever heard it before. 

It was then you noticed that the gym was empty as Bodhi and Garrick must’ve been given an order to leave. Knowing that there was no way to avoid him, you slowly moved your eyes towards his onyx ones. As soon as you met them, you knew that it was a mistake to look. 

There was no denying that there was a sadness etched in the look he was giving you. But that wasn’t the only thing, at least that’s what you thought, it seemed you saw a look of love and regret behind those eyes. You couldn’t help the absolute disbelief that crossed your mind. There was no way this man, who was obviously so interested in someone else really wanted you. 

Feeling the conviction of your certainty that you no longer held the heart of the man in front of you, you finally found the courage to speak.

“What do you want from me Xaden?” You asked with an edge of exasperation in your voice and a tired sigh leaving your lips.

For a moment you felt regret for the flinch that you couldn’t avoid seeing as he took in your words. But why were you supposed to feel guilty when he was the one who broke your heart. 

“I want to talk to you about everything. I need you to be part of my life. Please let me explain.” He starts. 

You continue to stare at him trying to take in his words, but everything around you still seems to crumble.

“I may have believed that before I saw you kiss her, Xaden. And I know from your own friends that it’s gone further now. There’s no need for me to be put in the middle of your seemingly budding relationship.” You say but you can’t help the hurt that comes through your voice. 

You feel the sting of tears gathering in your eyes and drop your face once more not wanting him to know that the betrayal still affects you this way. You go to pull your hand away, but you feel a strong grip pull you forward, and he crushes you to his chest in an embrace. 

“Please don’t.” You whisper trying desperately to hold back your tears while your body stiffens. Without ever meeting his gaze again, you push against his chest, and you feel his arms reluctantly let you go. You turn around and walk out of the gym with your head down.  

As you trudge your way back to your room, you’re shocked to find Garrick standing by your door. 

“Hey.” He says softly looking at you with nothing but understanding in his eyes.

“I’m not in the right frame of my mind to entertain anyone Gare.” You say trying to hide the tremble of emotions in your voice. 

“I know. I’m not here for you to entertain me. I just wanted to make sure you are okay.” He says quietly. 

You look up to see him looking at you with nothing but sadness and a sincerity to help. He opens his arms seeming to know you need someone to lean on, and you walk straight into them.

He doesn’t even get the door to your room closed before you are sagging in his arms letting the tears flow freely. You know that you don’t usually show emotions like this, especially in front of the guys, but you’re tired of putting up a strong front. If just for tonight. 

You don’t know how long you sit there on the floor of your room, the tears flowing freely while Garrick rocks you in his arms, but eventually your tears seem to dry up and exhaustion starts to claim you. With help from Garrick, you make your way to the bed.

“Thank you, Gare.” You whisper to him as your eyes fall closed and the exhaustion claims you.

After that night, it seemed both you and Xaden avoided each other and never found yourselves alone in a room again. Soon you knew he would be leaving for his outpost as a new Lieutenant, and you wouldn’t have to look around for him anymore. 

Unfortunately for you, the night of graduation wasn’t to be one for celebrating for you. As you stood in the courtyard after you had said your goodbyes to Garrick, you had to watch as Xaden was walked to the flight field by Violet. For a moment, you caught each other’s eyes, and you could feel yourself drowning in his dark eyes. 

You saw Violet saying something to him, but he never seemed to tear his gaze away from you. Not wanting to cause any issues in their relationship, you dropped your gaze and proceeded to walk to your room. 

‘Do not worry yourself Stormy One. You will get even stronger this year and will be ready to take on the next challenge.’ Cedri encourages you.

‘I just hope if I make it to graduation, I won’t have to be stationed with him. I don’t want to watch their relationship while fighting this war.’ You say to Cedri, even though you know you are drowning in your own self-pity tonight. 

You fling yourself down on your bed and pray that sleep will take you without any nightmares. 

As the months flew by, you threw yourself into classes and learning runes. If there was one thing you would always be thankful to Xaden for, it would be teaching you Tyrrish culture. You always found it fascinating to learn everything you could about each of the different provinces. 

One night while practicing runes with Bodhi in your room, there was a knock at your door. You figured that it must be one of your squad mates looking for help on some homework, but your eyes flew wide at the person standing on the other side of the door.

Xaden.

You stared back at him not really believing that he was standing there in front of you. Wasn’t he supposed to be at his station? Why was he in Basgiath? And even more confusingly, why was he knocking on your door?

Before your mind goes into too many directions, your brain clicks back into gear, and you realize he must be here for Sgaeyl to visit Tairn. And he must be here looking for Bodhi. 

“I believe someone is here for you Bodhi.” You say and turn to go back and sit on your bed. You return to the more complicated fabric runes that you had been working on and try to distract yourself. However, after a few seconds, you realize that you hadn’t heard your door click. 

You look up to see Xaden staring at you his eyes moving from your hands where the fabric lies, up to your face. It seems he can’t help the small smile that makes the left side of his mouth tick upwards and the slight crinkle to his eyes, a look of happiness dancing in his gaze. 

You are both cut short in your staring when Bodhi clears his throat as he walks up to meet his cousin at your door.

“Come on cousin. We can talk in my room.” Bodhi says as he moves past Xaden and begins to close the door behind him. You watch as Bodhi pulls at Xaden’s flight jacket sleeve before the door clicks and your view is obscured.

You can’t help the deep breath that leave your lungs as soon as you hear the lock slide back into place. How long had it been since you had seen him? You try not to think about the fact that the man still makes your heart race just by looking at you. And just about makes you faint when he deigns to give up one of his true smiles. 

“Ugh. Get. It. Together.” You breathe out in frustration and correct yourself. You can only think how grateful you will be to finally get out of Basgiath and hopefully never have to lay eyes on this man that seems stuck in your soul ever again.

Not even two days later, you wake with a pounding headache and an uncertainty in where the hell you are. The last thing you remember, you were heading to the bathing chamber after a day of training with Bodhi. Both of you laughing at an inside joke between the two of you from your first year. 

And then the memory clicks, of cloth covering your mouth while strong arms wrapped around your torso. Before succumbing to the substance on the cloth, your vision was blackened with a black cloth bag that was thrown over your head. 

You look around at the sight and think you must be back in your second year again and having to take part in RSC again. Then you remember, you’re a third year. 

Before your mind can continue to catch up, you hear the door behind you click open. You hear boots click on the floor coming closer and closer to you before a figure stops in front of you.

Varrish. 

Your heart rate begins to pick up. Why the hell were you being interrogated? Why would Varrish be handling it? You hadn’t done anything reckless in weeks that you can remember. You certainly hadn’t done anything to break the codex. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, for now at least.” Varrish spits at you while looking down at your restrained body.

“Why the hell am I being retained Vice Commandant?” You question, though you can’t help the disgust in the tone that leaves your lips. 

“Ah, you did not do anything. However, you’re instrumental in getting the person we need back to Basgiath.” He continues venomously.

You can’t help the look of confusion that must be all over your face. Who would come back to Basgiath for you? You weren’t from a family of riders. Most of them were just regular civilians living their lives. You were the only one in your family that felt the call to come to Basgiath, let alone become a dragon rider. Who did the Vice Commandant feel would come to rescue you?

Your look of confusion must have entertained Varrish as you watch a slimey smile cross his face, followed by a sneer of disgust painting your features. 

“Oh, I believe you are aware of the Lieutenant that I speak of cadet.” He drawls, continuing his manic pacing in front of you.

At that statement, the facts in your mind finally arrange themselves. For some reason, Varrish thinks Xaden will come back to Basgiath for you.

The look of disbelief that flashes in your face is followed by one of resignation. You’re going to die here. The repulsive man in front of you is going to torture and kill you and you can’t even stop him. Xaden is not coming to rescue you. He would never threaten everything for you. He has other priorities now. You’re just going to be another name on the death rolls.

The resignation hits you, along with the acceptance that you cannot break. You cannot betray Xaden, Bodhi, Garrick or any of your other marked friends, whether or not you were still part of their lives.

“You’re in for a surprise if you expect him to come here.” You spit out along with the blood that has continued to fill your mouth after the right hook to your face from Varrish.

“I’m not the one that will help you accomplish your goals; I believe you’re looking for a Cadet Sorrengail.” You continue even though every word causes pain to crash across your now broken jaw.

“And I think you are mistaken cadet. The cadre has noticed more than once the feelings Lieutenant Riorson seems to harbor for you.” Varrish spits back out crouching down and getting into your face.

“Besides, Cadet Sorrengail has not returned to Basgiath since her group of traitors stole from the Archives. Although, I will say we didn’t expect this much of a fuss from your dragon.” He snarks as he gets closer to your face. His putrid breath mingling with the damp smell from the holding cell and the fresh scent of your blood. Why did it seem like this was something they had planned all along?

Your breath catches at the mention of Cedri, you let a thought you hope he can hear cross your mind.

‘Thank you for being my dragon, Cedri. It has been an honor to be your rider. Please promise me you’ll live and find another worthy rider.’

You close your eyes and let your head fall back onto the hard wood of the chair you’ve been strapped to. You realize that the connection to Cedri has somehow been severed. They must’ve drugged you with the new concoction you had heard the second year’s talking about. 

Time seems to slow and even though you have accepted your fate, you can’t stop the excruciating pain that’s continually inflicted on your body. 

Gods how many days have I been in here.

The only thing you could do now was hold onto the last good memories you had and hope that your body would give up soon. 

It wasn’t helping that Varrish and his posse kept bringing up Xaden and opening up the wound that never seemed to heal from lost love. Couldn’t he just leave the one person that was an open wound out of the salt he continued to pour over your body in the form of kicks, punches, and broken bones. The physical pain was one thing you could handle, but the emotional torture seemed to be toying with your mind even more.

As you fade in and out of consciousness after enduring another day of torture, you can hear voices outside of the door to the chamber you’ve been held in. 

“We’ll need to move her tonight. The cadets looking for her are getting closer and we can’t punish them when we don’t have any ground on holding her here.” You hear a distinctly female voice comment.

“Of course, we have ground. I’m the Vice Commandant. I punish cadets as I see fit and this cadet is more than deserving of punishment.” You can hear Varrish spit to whoever the other voice belongs to. 

You can’t help the small light that ignites in your chest when you hear that at least someone at Basgiath has realized you are missing and is trying to get to you. The thought is short lived when the door swings back open and a black cloth bag is forced back over your head. 

You would scream. You would try to kick and punch. You would cry. But they’ve nearly torn all the emotions and reactions that you have in your body from you. You are exhausted. The small fire that someone is looking for you disappears when you feel your broken body being picked up and tossed over a shoulder. 

Suddenly you feel the temperatures around you are plummeting even colder. The slight dampness of the cell you were contained in before was nothing compared to the water you hear now steadily dripping somewhere onto a stone floor. The scent of muddy earth and moss intensifies as you feel the person continue down steps. 

You find yourself numb. This must finally be where I die you think. No one is going to find you this far down beneath, what you think is the fortress of Basgiath. 

How far down are you even? The frigid temperatures don’t help you when you feel yourself start to shiver, but it takes everything not to break down in sobs at the pain radiating from the shivers. You feel yourself getting tired. You don’t even think you can remember what the sun on your face feels like. 

You take a deep breath trying to calm the tightness that seems to be pulling in your chest. How much longer until you finally welcome me home, Malek? You can’t help but think as your vision begins to blacken from the blood that still seems to be pouring from the wound in your side. 

Gods. How many times will they make you do this before they just kill you. At this point, you can only feel that death would be a mercy.

Time begins to slip by again, torture, mending, more torture, more mending. You’re unsure of how many more times you have been tossed around as they move you from different areas so no one could find you, even if they tried. 

You are again by yourself in the dark. Your left eye has completely swollen shut from this morning’s punch to your eye socket. Your right eye isn’t much better, they must’ve shattered your cheekbone when hitting you with the iron cuff across your face this morning. But the worst pain must be the bleeding gash that has been torn across your abdomen. You can feel the wound still seeping blood as you take shallow breaths that seem not to be enough to keep your lungs functioning. 

This is finally it. You think to yourself, hoping that you can finally have the peace of blissful sleep as you slip into Malek’s arms. 

Suddenly you hear a commotion, the room you are in seems somehow to get even darker. You try to hold on, but oblivion seems to keep pulling at your consciousness. You hear distant voices, but you can’t make out the words they are saying. 

As you feel your head rolling back and your vision completely blacken, you hear the door bang open. You don’t even try to open your eyes as you know the only thing that the noise could possibly be is more torture heading your way. But before you completely lose consciousness, you could swear you hear a masculine voice breathe out your name in rage and panic.

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You never thought death would have a smell. And you can’t help at the sarcastic huff that you think when you realize the smell is just like Xaden. Distinctly mint and leather. Why would Malek want to torture you for eternity? What great sin were you paying for?

You didn’t ever think that in death you’d be able to feel things either. You move your fingers slightly and are shocked to feel what seems to be soft sheets enveloping you. Its then that you realize that you still feel the haze of pain over your body. 

This must not be death. They only mended me again. 

You can’t help the disappointment you feel that you haven’t been set free from the chains of the torture you’ve been enduring. But confusion causes you to crease your eyebrows when you realize there is glorious sunlight dusting your eyelids. 

You slowly try to flutter your eyes open and are greeted with an even more shocking sight. You are in a bedroom, not in a damp cell any longer. You try to move your body, but you feel as if everything is still broken. So instead, you turn your head to the side and can’t help the breath that gets caught in your throat. 

There, in the chair next to the bed you’ve been placed in, is Xaden. His head is resting on his hand at an uncomfortable angle, but the thing that shocks you is the way his eyes seem puffy and red rimmed as if he had been crying. You follow the rest of his body and find that he also has his other hand draped on the side of the bed that was almost touching your hand. 

You continue to take him in a few more minutes, before he begins to stir and shift positions in the chair he is in. You watch as he begins to bring his head up, your heart rate begins to race at the thought of your eyes meeting his onyx ones. 

Finally, his gaze meets yours and you watch as his eyes widen comically before he is soaring from the chair and moving to the side of your bed and grabbing for your hand. 

“Y/N.” He says breathlessly, as if he thought he’d never be able to say your name again. 

He continues to stare at you wide-eyed, though you notice the purple that is smudged underneath his eyes. 

You continue to take in his rumpled form. From his hair that is completely disheveled to the sunken in look to his swollen eyes, this is a Xaden Riorson that you never thought you would see. He looks lost, shaken, and completely ready to fall apart. 

As the shock of everything begins to wear off, you start trying to push yourself from the bed. Before you can even sit up completely, your whole-body sags and you fall back into the mattress. An irritated grunt leaves you lips, but Xaden is worriedly moving closer trying to coax you to lay back down.

“Don’t try to move too much. Your body is still healing.” He rasps out. His voice sounding gravelly from disuse and emotion. 

He goes to move closer to you, but you flinch when you feel him coming closer at a rate that seems too fast. He sees and immediately tenses up. You look at him with sorrow in your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I – I’m – it’s just...” You trail off not really knowing how to voice the fact that you’re scared, although you know that Xaden would never hurt you. Your voice is dry, and you try to swallow to help coat your vocal cords. 

You bring your hand up to your neck and gingerly touch it, remembering the feeling of someone choking you until you couldn’t breathe and were about to black out. 

You can see the absolute sorrow that passes across Xaden’s face, but there’s also a look of absolute rage that flickers behind it. 

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He says while moving back to sit next to where your hand is. You watch as the man you know as so confident, seems to fiddle not knowing where to go or how to proceed. 

If it weren’t for the fact of what you’d been enduring, you would find the sight of Xaden being insecure as endearing. 

“Would you like some water?” Xaden asks hesitantly, now seeming like he doesn’t want to scare you too much. 

As you go to respond, your mouth feels too dry, so you shake your head in confirmation. You watch as Xaden slowly rises from the bed and grabs the cup of water on the nightstand not far from you. You try to sit up again but hiss in pain when you try to bend your abdomen. 

You look down to see an angry scar running across your stomach that looks to have been mended a few times. Before you can try again, you feel two strong hands lift you from you shoulders and set you up against the headboard. 

“Thank you.” You rasp out before gingerly taking the glass of water from Xaden’s hand. You bring the glass to your lips and close your eyes as you take a drink of clean water. It’s impossible for you to remember the last time you even had a drink of water, causing you to furrow your brows trying to figure out the day. 

You finally bring the glass down and look back up at the man perched on the side of the bed. You realize he’s been watching you carefully, seeming to try and take in every feature of yours that he can.

“Do you know how long I was held?” You choke out. Hoping that your voice doesn’t give away the fear that is still in your bones at being held captive again. 

You watch as Xaden’s face becomes even more sunken in, as if he is hating himself for some reason. 

“They had you for seven days.” He chokes out, not being able to hide the emotion taking over his voice. He takes a moment to settle before continuing.

“Bodhi got word to me by the second day, but I wasn’t able to get to you immediately.” You see the wetness that is starting to pool in his eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t know what it felt like knowing you were there, and I couldn’t get to you.”

You watch as Xaden tries as hard as he can, but he can’t stop the few tears that seem to escape from his eyes. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Xaden.” You tell him, looking down as you don’t want to break yourself from all the emotions he’s shown today.

You feel him scoot closer on the bed and the next thing you realize; your hands are in his. It feels surreal to have someone else touching you and not causing you pain. You do everything you can to not completely tense every fiber of your body. It’s as if he can read your hesitance and he begins to softly stroke his thumbs over your knuckles. 

The action that is so achingly familiar causes you to close your eyes in comfort before looking up at him sadly. You try to hide the sad smile that steals across your face, but you can’t hide it when you find him bringing his hand to your chin to tip up your face. 

“It is my fault. Those fuckers were looking for me and used you as godsdamned bait. They deserved more pain than what they were given.” He says and you can feel the rage that crawls into his voice as if it is a living, breathing thing. 

“Are – are they still alive?” You ask, your voice sounding small and afraid. 

He tilts your chin up to him and holds it firmly in place looking at you directly in your eyes.

“No.” He says firmly, without hesitation. “They are all fucking dead. But, if I could kill them again, I would.”

You feel your body sag in relief at the news that those who inflicted all this pain are no longer alive. You feel two hot tears slide from the side of your eyes unbidden. You watch as Xaden brings up a hand to wipe both of the tears from your eyes. 

You take in the feeling that you are something precious to the man in front of you, relishing in the attention before you know you will need to give it up. 

“Thank you for saving me. I’m not sure how much longer I would have lasted.” You say, knowing that your body was the closest to death you had ever felt. 

“You shouldn’t be thanking me. You should hate me. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve been involved with me, that would’ve never happened to you.” He says getting frustrated with himself.

This time you stretch your hand to his face, and cup his cheek, running your thumb over his cheek.

“I could never hate you, Xaden.” You look at him with your eyes going soft. Even with everything you’d been through, you would never wish ill on him, knowing how much he has endured in his life.  

You drop you hand from his face and bring it back to your side. You feel exhaustion pulling you back down, knowing that your body is still healing. Not wanting to be more of a burden than necessary, you scoot back under the covers and bring the blankets back up. 

Looking back at Xaden and knowing him sitting here blaming himself is keeping him from his happiness, you can’t help the words out of your mouth.

“You can leave Xaden. You don’t have to babysit me, I’ll be alright.” You say even though the statement lances sorrow through your heart. 

He looks back at you and his brows knit. “I’m not here to babysit you. I’m here because I want to make sure you’re alright. I’m here because I care about you.” He says going to grab your hand again. 

Right before you are about to respond to him, the door pushes open and the sight before you makes every thought you had seconds ago crumble. Standing in the doorway is the silver-haired girl that started the whole mess you find yourself in now. 

Weariness now settles over your bones, and you turn you face away from the man that used to be your whole world. You turn to your side and close your eyes, hoping beyond hope that if you sleep, you will wake and the last week or so will be just a bad nightmare. 

You hear Xaden let out a long sigh and feel as the bed springs back up as his weight leaves it. You hear the door click shut and let out a ragged breath. 

Before you finally drift back into unconsciousness, you hear voices outside the door.

“What do you need Violet? I thought I asked you not to come up here unless necessary.” You hear Xaden reply tersely. 

“I’m sorry Xaden. But the Assembly asked me to come and get you. They are having a strategy meeting and requested you to be there.” You hear Violet explain.

“Couldn’t you have just asked through the bond?” He says with an annoyed edge to his tone.

“Well, I would have, but you’ve had me blocked out mostly since you’ve returned from Basgiath five days ago.” You hear her reply curtly.

Your mind not waiting to hear any more of the conversation, shuts off and you find yourself drifting back into unconsciousness. 

Weeks pass and you’ve found yourself trying to get back to your previous strength. It’s been weeks of light training with Bodhi and Garrick, along with nights that haunt you. Trying to gather some sort of strength from everything they had taken from you.

The next thing you know, it’s just another night where you find yourself awoken by the feeling of a hand clamping around your throat and feel the phantom pain of a sword ghosting across your abdomen. 

You awake with a start, sweat covering your entire body, your heart beating erratically. Luckily, you were smart enough to put a sound shield on the room you’ve been staying in, because your throat is hoarse from the scream that just tore from it. 

After what seems like an eternity, your heartbeat begins to slow, and you can take full breaths once more. 

Knowing that sleep won’t be finding you again any time soon, you wrap yourself in your flight jacket and close the door to your room softly behind you. 

As you descend the stairs from your room, you find yourself walking towards the hills that surround the fortress. Without questioning your steps, you continue up to one that you think will have an excellent view of the sunrise. 

You smile slightly to yourself when the memory of watching the stars until sunrise with Xaden crosses your mind. You thought that being in Riorson House would feel stifling, like you couldn’t escape the aura of Xaden. But, for some reason you don’t understand, the fortress feels like a warm blanket that can shield you from all the horrors that you’ve had to deal with since arriving at Basgiath. 

When you make it to the top of the hill, you can’t help the small gasp that tears from your lips at the beautiful view before you. Sinking down next to one of the large trees, you look over the small town that has been rebuilt below you and take everything in with awe. 

You always knew that Xaden and the other marked ones loved their homes, but it warmed your heart to see the work that they had put into helping others begin to put their lives back together. 

You take a deep breath and lean your head back against the tree, closing your eyes and enjoying the quiet sounds of the early morning. You’ll never take for granted the life around you, even though winter is coming, and the sounds are quieter, not after being held in that cell and being deprived of the world. 

 As you sit there in the stillness and enjoy the quiet, you feel your body begin to want to drift off, but the pop of a branch breaking brings you out of your calm. 

Quickly turning and jumping to your feet with your heart racing, you are surprised to see a familiar face staring back at you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He says, his eyes sad and tone quiet.

“It’s alright. I – I’m still getting used to real life.” You say as you drop your eyes feeling ashamed for being scared of such small things. 

While your gaze is down, you hear footsteps as they cautiously come towards you until two booted feet are standing inches away. A hand comes up and three fingers gently bring your chin up to look into two onyx eyes. 

You don’t know why, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, seeming to search for something. 

“You shouldn’t feel ashamed for being afraid.” He says as his thumb strokes your cheek. “You’ve been through a lot. I just hope that you feel safe here.”

“I hope that you feel cared for.” He continues, although his words seem slightly hesitant.

You give him a small smile, knowing that if it wasn’t for the man before you, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy the small things anymore. 

It’s as if that small gesture opens a dam for him and before you really can think his hand is cradling the back of your head to his chest and his other arm is snaked around your waist holding you close to him.  

You hear as he gives a small huff of a laugh before speaking. “Leave it to you to find the one spot in Aretia that’s incredibly special to me.” He begins.

You pull your head back slightly to look back at him and raise an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean ‘leave it to me’?” You ask.

He looks down at you, his eyes softening although he hasn’t let go of your waist. 

“You were always the one to figure out things I tried to hide, no matter how well I thought they were hidden.” He explains while giving you a small smile.

With that action and those words, you can’t control the smile that steals across your face and the way your eyes crinkle. One of the things about your relationship you always enjoyed was the small gestures and emotions he gave only to you. 

After a few moments of silence, Xaden breaks the quiet.

“Will you please let me explain everything to you? Please.” He says while now going to cup your face.

“You can decide what you want to do from there, but I need you to listen. Please. I miss you so fucking much.” He begs while letting the longing and sadness he’s feeling leach into his voice. 

The smile falls from your face, but you know that there is no way to completely avoid him or this conversation forever at this point. You take a small step back, but you can’t go far because of the firm hold Xaden has on your face. You give a small nod.

“Okay.” You say in a whisper, not trusting your voice to get any louder.

The strange rush of relief that crosses his face makes your heart beat a little faster. He drops his hands from your face and threads his fingers through yours before tugging slightly to have you sit down next to him.

When you’re both seated against the trunk of the tree where you were watching the sunrise, you turn to him to see him already watching you. He still hasn’t let your hand go, before he begins.

“I’ve had more than enough time to ruminate on everything that has happened between us over almost the entire last year. And I will never be able to make up for all of the ways that I’ve failed you.” He starts as his face falls to your intertwined hands that he has now brought into his lap. 

“I never once came to you to explain everything. It all started when Bodhi informed me that you had seen me kiss Violet.”

You don’t miss how he flinches at the revelation, though you’re unsure if it was because Bodhi told him or because he did it in the first place. With the painful reminder, your own heart falters again and you go to take your hand back, but he now has it held in a vice grip. 

“I shouldn’t have brushed you off. I should never have gotten involved with Violet. The kiss was a mistake that happened when we both were overwhelmed with the bond of Sgaeyl and Tairn not shielding. I know that doesn’t make it alright, that nothing ever will, but I want you to know that I’ll never forgive myself for that even happening. Especially when you were still the person I was thinking about.”

It's shocking to you how much of a dam that he must’ve been holding in because he can’t seem to stop talking. The next thing you know, he is explaining that both he and Violet got further involved because they were both trying to move past their previous relationships. Him with the reminder of you and everything that he had lost. And she with a relationship that she thought was always going to be part of her life.

As you listened, you realize that you both were just living in the hurt that you both inflicted on each other. Him for not realizing how much he had begun to pull away and not show the attention you deserved and you for not going to him and explaining how you were feeling. 

As he continued to fill you in on everything that has been happening in the past few months, you lean your head back on the tree and close your eyes taking in all the information. Soon enough, your ears are greeted by silence, and you pick your head up and open your eyes.

You turn to see Xaden staring at you seeming to take in your full form as if he’s a man that has been denied water for numerous days. He finally looks back into your eyes and all you see is a burning fight in them, as if he would never be able to part from you. 

“Do you think you can find it in your heart to forgive me?” He asks hesitantly as if he is afraid of the actual answer. 

You look back at him and of course your heart breaks looking at the hurt look on his face and the way he is so tentative with you. However, you know that it can’t just be that easy for either of you.

“I think maybe we could get there.” You say, your voice small as your own uncertainty shines through. 

You watch as his face crumples and sadness takes over the hopeful expression he had. Though it doesn’t stay around long. Soon enough, he sets his face in determination and looks back at you again. 

“Okay – Alright. I can work with that.” He says, setting his jaw as if he is getting ready for battle. 

He gets up and reaches his hand out for you. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

You take his hand, and he intertwines your fingers again, slowly guiding you back down the hill towards the fortress of Riorson House. 

Before you break through the doors, he turns to you, and you almost run right into his chest at the rate you had been following behind. His arm jets out to grab your waist and steady you before speaking.

“Will you train with me?” He questions looking at you with expectant eyes. 

“Sure.” You say with a slight hesitance. 

A smile breaks out over his face, and he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. Your eyes blow wide at the gesture, but he’s walking through the doors and pulling you with him again.

The next thing you know another month has passed and you can feel yourself finally feeling stronger again. Not to mention your friendship with Xaden has been growing stronger day by day. 

You start enjoying his company again and begin sitting with him and all his family during dinners, enjoying talking and laughing together. 

One night, you find yourself on the mats stretching, waiting to see who the sparring partner that will join you today will be. 

Soon enough, Garrick comes strolling through the door one of his charming grins plastered over his face. You give him a quick smile as you continue your stretching.

“Ready for a fight?” He quips.

“Of course.” You sass back at him.

“Well, you should be resting comfortably at least. You know since you have the biggest room in this damn house.” He jokes.

Your brows furrow in confusion as you pick up your head to look over at your friend. 

“What are you talking about? Why would I have the biggest room?” You ask in confusion.

“You mean to tell me you never noticed how much larger the room you’re in is compared to the rest of ours?”

You start to think about all the times that you’ve been in your friends’ rooms, especially those close to Xaden. All the rooms seemed spacious enough, but you had never realized how large yours was until now. 

“Why the hell would I have the biggest room? Shouldn’t Xaden? It’s his house.” You say confused.

You quirk your eyebrows when Garrick begins to laugh heartily and looks at you as if you haven’t realized what you’ve said. 

“He does have the largest room. He just hasn’t been staying in it.” Garrick explains.

Your brows stay furrowed for a few more seconds before realization dawns and your eyes widen in shock.

“Why the hell would Xaden give me his room?” You ask in shock and confusion.

“You should know the answer to that question.” He says back to you with a pointed look before continuing.

“You should know by now how madly in love that man is with you. When we finally were able to get to you and bring you back…” He starts while shaking his head seeming to recount the memory. “I’ve never seen him so crazed. Between the fact that it took days to make a plan and execute it so we could get to that room without too much resistance. Then getting you back to Riorson House, and you being so broken. I’ve never seen him like that. He wouldn’t even leave your side while Brennan mended you.”

You sit there staring at your friend as he continues to recount the story.

“If it wasn’t for the fact that he had to go to some Assembly meetings, he wouldn’t have left that room until you woke up. We had to almost spoon feed him and drag him to any meetings he was required at. Even then, he made Violet stay in the room with you while he was gone, because she can communicate with him directly. He wouldn’t let us do it because we couldn’t get information to him immediately.”

You shake your head slightly and drop your head. You can’t believe that you didn’t even know any of that, let alone realize you had taken over Xaden’s room. 

Before you can get yourself together, you see the doors of the sparring gym swing open again and Xaden walk in. You see him look up at you and smile, until he sees the look on your face. He seems to speed up the pace of his walk before he’s standing in front of you and Garrick.

“What?” He says with concern laced in his tone, looking down at you. “What’s the matter?”

You see Garrick look between the two of you and he smirks slightly before starting to walk away. 

“I think I’ll take my leave for right now.” Garrick says amusedly. 

You and Xaden watch as Garrick walks to the door, and it swings shut behind him. Xaden turns his head back to you and looks you in the eyes, concern still laced in his features. 

“What happened?”

“Why am I staying in your room Xaden?” You ask, pure curiosity in your voice.

You watch as his eyes widen, and his looks turn sheepish. He looks down at his feet and you’re shocked to see this intimidating man looking as if he was caught red handed like a child stealing a slice of chocolate cake.

“I – uh – wanted you to be comfortable.” He says, although you can sense there is something else he isn’t saying.

“Uh huh. Comfortable? And why exactly wouldn’t I have been comfortable in one of the other bedrooms of Riorson House?” You challenge, enjoying it too much when you see a flush grace the cheeks of Xaden Riorson. 

“Well – I mean – You would’ve been. But – “He continues stammering.

“But what Riorson?” You continue, enjoying putting him on edge. 

Your relationship has been getting stronger and Xaden has done nothing but prove himself day in and out. It’s with that knowledge you find yourself feeling a new sense of bravado, especially when you already have him off kilter. 

As the conversation has continued, you’ve slowly been bringing yourself closer to him. As he continues to look back at you sheepishly, you bring your hand and place it on his chest. You watch as the move continues to rattle him, and he swallows thickly.

With a mischievous smirk sneaking across your face, you leave rationale behind and continue to rise on your toes and place your lips to his. You keep your eyes open, just to watch his reaction and what you see makes you smile into the kiss.

First his eyes blow wide in shock and his body tenses, before you feel his arms snake around your waist and pull you flush against his chest. The next thing you know, his eyes have closed, and the kiss has turned into one of pure desperation. You follow, closing your eyes, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and spear your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

The kiss feels like a mix of new excitement and coming home. Too soon, you feel him slowing down the kiss and pulling back slightly. He places his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath, his gaze boring into your eyes, searching for an answer to a question he hasn’t voiced.

“What does this mean?” He asks breathlessly, before rushing to continue. “Please know I don’t expect anything, not after everything I put you through. But if there is any chance at all for you to be mine again, please know that I will not waste it.”

You stare straight into his eyes, searching to see if his words are the truth. Not seeing anything in his gaze but pure hope, you smile at him. 

“I’m yours.” You say to him and watch the most blindingly perfect smile spreads across his whole face. 

Not even a second later, you feel yourself being picked up and swung around in a tight hug. Xaden hasn’t even put you down before he’s crashing his lips back into yours, the smile he was wearing still tearing at his lips. 

“I promise that even though I may still piss you off and be an ass at times, I’ll never let what happened between us ever happen again. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go, never again.” He declares after you both finally pull apart. 

“Come on.” He says, pulling you by your hand.

“Where are we going? I thought we were training?” You say all while laughing at the antics of the man pulling you along.

“Fuck training. We’re going to watch the sunset on my favorite hill and I’m not letting you go for one minute.”  He says as he continues to pull you through Riorson House to the doors.

At that point, a smile of pure happiness settles across your face as you follow the man that has your heart out the door and into the endless possibilities that lie ahead. 

As he rests against the trunk of the tree with you wrapped in his arms against his chest and his head nuzzled in your hair, you can’t help but think this may be the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen. 

[psformybss]

Home for the Holiday

drew starkey x reader

based on this ask

warnings: soft domesticity, light teasing, childhood photo embarrassment, implied intimacy, holiday fluff, emotional warmth, minor chaos

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The drive to Hickory isn’t long—barely two hours—but it feels like stepping deeper into a painting the farther you go. The mountains swell on either side, slopes brushed in goldenrod and copper, the winding road slicing through valleys that shimmer with late-autumn light. Trees bend toward the shoulder like they’re listening. The air sharpens, turns crisper with each mile, and when Drew cracks the window, the breeze slips in cool and earthy—laced with woodsmoke, pine, and something older still, like nostalgia.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asks, one hand draped lazily over the wheel, fingers tapping in an absent rhythm. He’s wearing that half-grin that makes your stomach flip, but his eyes flick your way like he’s actually asking. “Last chance to fake a tire blowout and drive straight to Florida.”

You glance over your coffee cup, raising a brow. “You want to spend Thanksgiving at a beach motel with vending machine food?”

“I mean… could be fun. No chaos. Just us. Low risk of being tackled by Logan.”

You snort. “Tempting. But I think I’ll take my chances with the Starkey family stampede.”

Drew’s grin widens—lazy, crooked, and so familiar now it feels like home. “You’ve met my siblings before. It won’t be that bad.”

“Right, but not in their natural habitat. Last time, Brooke wore heels and didn’t scream at anyone. I think she was trying to impress me.”

“She’s definitely over that phase.”

By the time you pull into the driveway, the Starkey house looks like something straight out of a Southern Living holiday issue. White columns frame the porch, and a few stubborn pumpkins cling to the steps, leftover from Halloween, now nestled among scattered oak leaves. The air smells like damp bark and someone’s been baking for hours. A car is already in the driveway, and from a cracked window, music spills out—Fleetwood Mac, you think—soft, scratchy, and just a little chaotic.

You barely get a chance to knock before the front door swings open.

“Took you long enough,” Brooke says, holding a glass of red wine with the confidence of someone born to host. Her hair’s in a high ponytail, and one perfectly arched eyebrow lifts as she smirks. “Mom’s been pacing like she’s expecting royalty.”

“Hi, Brooke,” you say sweetly, stepping in behind Drew.

“She even fluffed the couch pillows,” Mackayla calls from deeper inside the house. “That never happens.”

Drew shoulders his duffel bag with a grunt. “Did y’all coordinate this roast in the group chat, or—?”

Brooke sips her wine. “Oh, honey. This is just muscle memory.”

Mackayla’s next, sweeping into the entryway and pulling you into a hug that smells like cinnamon, hairspray, and some expensive perfume. “Glad you survived the drive. Asheville traffic this week is practically apocalyptic.”

“Logan still narrating the Macy’s Parade?” Drew mutters, kicking off his sneakers.

From the living room: “I can hear you, and I’m providing valuable commentary!”

You peek in and find Logan draped dramatically across the couch like a Roman emperor, a bowl of Chex Mix balanced precariously on his chest, eyes glued to the TV. “The Rockettes,” he announces, “remain undefeated.”

The house is warm in the way only lived-in homes are—firelight flickering in the hearth, a distant clatter of pans, the smell of roasted turkey and sage rolling in like a tide. The walls hum with activity. Someone yells for a potholder, Brooke’s playlist is at war with the TV, and laughter crackles from the kitchen.

Family photos line the hallway—graduations, toothless grins, beach trips. A penciled height chart runs along the laundry room doorframe. There are shoes by the stairs, dog-eared cookbooks in a basket, and a lone wine glass abandoned on a windowsill like it’s mid-conversation.

Jodi rounds the corner wiping her hands on a red-checkered dish towel, her face lighting up like a porch light when she sees you.

“There she is! Oh, honey, come here,” she says, pulling you into a hug that smells like cinnamon rolls and dryer sheets. “I’m Jodi. It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thank you for having me.”

“Of course. We’ve heard plenty about you.”

“Okay, and we’re done here,” Drew mutters behind you.

Todd appears a moment later with a cheerful, “Welcome, welcome,” and a firm handshake. “We’ve got a seat at the table with your name on it.”

“Dad,” Drew warns, tone sharp with dread.

“I’m just saying, your mother and I were starting to wonder if we needed to set you up again.”

“Again?” you ask, your eyebrows lifting in delight.

“Long story,” Todd says.

“Not long enough,” Mackayla quips, sailing past with a tray of deviled eggs. “You should’ve seen the girl from church. That was… a choice.”

Drew groans. “Can we not do this today?”

“No promises!” Brooke sing-songs from the kitchen.

Within minutes, you’ve got a cider in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other, helping Jodi stir cranberry sauce while Mackayla debates garnish strategy like she’s on Top Chef. Brooke drifts between rooms with a Bluetooth speaker tucked under her arm, spinning like she’s in a musical.

“Logan!” she yells. “Stop changing the song—this is the good playlist!”

“Says who?” he shouts back.

Drew pops into the kitchen just long enough to swipe a cube of cheese, only to catch an elbow to the ribs from Jodi.

“Put her to work already?” he teases.

“She volunteered,” Jodi says, grinning. “Keeper behavior.”

You shoot Drew a look. “I just didn’t want to get benched for being the new girlfriend.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Brooke says, breezing in with a fresh glass of cider. “We’re judging you silently and putting you to work.”

Later, leaning against the counter as you stir gravy, you nudge him with your shoulder and murmur, “You weren’t kidding about the chaos.”

“Never do,” he says, brushing his hand gently over your hip in passing.

Dinner is everything—loud, barely manageable, and so perfectly alive it makes your chest ache a little. Everyone talks at once. Todd gives a theatrical toast that earns four synchronized groans from his kids. Logan drops his fork mid-meal and never retrieves it. Jodi refills your wine glass twice before you can say no. The stuffing disappears in seconds. Someone gets emotional over sweet potatoes.

After dessert—pecan pie so good it could start a cult—the cleanup turns into a full-contact sport. Dish towels fly. Brooke hums along to the Mariah Carey playing on the speaker. Logan somehow gets out of helping by claiming “decorative supervision.”

Drew kisses your temple as you collapse beside him on the living room floor, your backs against the couch while the rest of the family filters in around you.

The fire crackles low. Someone hits play on a cheesy Christmas movie—probably Brooke—and nobody objects.

Halfway through, Mackayla stretches like a cat and says innocently, “Has she seen your room yet?”

Drew stiffens. “She hasn’t?”

Brooke gasps, scandalized. “Drew. Show her your room. Immediately.”

“You act like I’ve got a dead body hidden in there.”

“No, but you do have that weird basketball trophy with your face on it,” Logan chimes from under a throw blanket. “And the Buzz Lightyear blanket.”

“That blanket was iconic,” Drew says, wounded.

You glance up at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Now I have to see it.”

Drew groans but stands, offering a hand. “Fine. Come on. Witness the shrine.”

The hallway creaks beneath your steps, lined with school photos and a penciled height chart just outside the laundry room. When his bedroom door opens with a familiar squeak, you’re hit with a wave of teenage nostalgia —posters on the walls, a crooked hoop on the back of the door, a Buzz Lightyear blanket folded neatly at the end of the bed.

You step inside slowly, taking it all in. “It’s cleaner than I expected.”

“My mom probably snuck in here with a can of Lysol the second we left for college.”

You trail your fingers over the comforter—soft from years of use, that distinct Carolina blue faded from washing—and sit on the edge of the bed, giving him a teasing smile. “This is kind of hot. All-American baller-boy vibes.”

He narrows his eyes. “Please never say ‘baller-boy’ again.”

“Make me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. Two steps and he’s in front of you, hands cupping your face as his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is unhurried but deep, purposeful. Like he’s been holding back all day and finally let himself give in. You tug him down with you, falling back onto the bed as he settles over you, his body a perfect weight against yours.

Your hands slip under his hoodie, skimming warm skin, and his breath hitches when your nails lightly scratch down his spine. His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, to the pulse beneath your ear, making you shiver. The room spins slightly, but in a good way—like everything else can wait as long as this lasts.

Eventually—slowly—you untangle yourselves. Clothes straightened. Hair smoothed. Heartbeats still a little too fast.

He helps you up, pressing a final kiss to your cheek before pulling the door open.

“You know if Logan heard us, I’m never living this down.”

“Then we better walk back out like nothing happened.”

“Think we can pull that off?”

You grin, smoothing your sweater. “Let’s find out.”

You return to the living room just in time for the second half of the Christmas movie. Mackayla gives you a look.

“Y’all took forever.”

“We were just talking,” Drew deadpans.

“Uh-huh.”

Jodi pats the spot beside her on the couch. “Come look at these. I pulled out the old albums.”

You sit beside her, and she flips to a page of plastic-covered memories. “That’s Drew in kindergarten,” she says proudly. “He used to call himself Captain Defense.”

“He wore elbow pads to school,” Mackayla adds, grinning.

Your eyes land on a photo of five-year-old Drew in a Buzz Lightyear costume that’s three sizes too big, face smeared with chocolate and pride. “Oh my god.”

“There’s more,” Jodi promises, turning the page. “This was his mullet phase.”

“Mom,” Drew groans.

You lean in. “Is that a rat tail?”

“A beautiful one,” Todd says solemnly from the recliner.

“I’m obsessed,” you laugh, as Drew drops his head onto your shoulder, groaning into your sweater.

The night winds down in soft layers—Brooke scrolling half-asleep, Logan snoring into a throw pillow, Jodi still humming beside the photo album. The fire burns low, shadows dancing across the ceiling.

Drew wraps an arm around your waist, voice low against your hair. “Thanks for coming.”

You melt into him, full and warm and happy.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”