#the first one he looked like he just woke up i love him

[writingastory]

Headcanons: The Morning After

Prompt: "It’s the first time they’ve woken up together in the same bed, and one partner is mesmerized by the other’s sleeping face—softly watching them wake up, still sleepy and a little disoriented."

Pairings: Xavier x fem!reader; Zayne x fem!reader; Rafayel x fem!reader; Sylus x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive thingies

Genre: "Normal" AU (no Evol, no Wanderers - just normal life)

A/N: I originally wanted to write some angsty, but couldn't bring myself to it. Life's hard enough, let's enjoy some fluff. Hope you enjoy! 💕

🌟 Xavier was still fast asleep by the time you woke up. The sun was tickling your nose in a way it usually did not - and it took you a moment to realize why it felt so strange. You were not in your bed... or your room for that matter.

🌟 Looking around, you found your clothes strewn about the room - and your boyfriend in bed, right by your side, under the blankets. Naked. Just like you.

🌟 A pleasant shiver ran up your spine, images of the night before flickering through your mind. His touches, his kisses - the way you two entangled under the sheets, and became one...

🌟 You smiled and traced the light marks on your skin. Xavier stirred lightly next to you and you couldn't help snuggling into his back, leaving gentle kisses on the back of his neck. Your fingers traced his spine with a feather-light touch, before continuing to draw invisible patterns into his skin.

🌟 He stirred again and rolled onto his other side, facing you. He blinked a few times and scrunched his nose cutely as the light hit his eyes. You giggled and kissed his nose. "Good morning," you whispered, cupping his face gently. He hummed in response, a small smile forming on his lips.

🌟 Xavier was far from ready to start his day. He scooted closer to you and pushed you onto your back slowly, snuggling into your side, his face hidden in your neck as his arms engulfed you carefully - as if you were a precious treasure that would break if he used too much force. His lips found your collarbone, planting soft kisses on the warm skin there.

🌟 "Good morning, indeed..." he mumbled between kisses, his hand finding your thigh, pulling it over his hips to lock you together once more. His one hand gripped your knee to hold your leg in place as his other snaked around the back of your neck to keep you close to him, stealing kiss after kiss from you, each one deeper and more intimate than the one before - and you suddenly had the feeling that you would not leave that bed for a couple more hours...

❄️ Zayne woke up before sunrise - 5 AM sharp, as he did every single day. His internal clock was as precise as a Swiss watch. He jolted slightly as he felt movements next to him; it was a strange feeling to share the bed. The smallest of smiles graced his lips as his eyes fell onto your form in the dim light of your shared bedroom, buried underneath the many blankets.

❄️ He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, his head resting on his hand comfortably. Zayne watched you in silence, enjoying the serenity of the moment. He was in no hurry. You two had been dating for months and decided to go on a last-minute vacation in Snowcrest. Away from friends, family - and work. A well deserved break from life that had gotten just a tad too hectic lately.

❄️ Zayne just loved spending time with you. He had invited you on this vacation for this very reason. You two becoming intimate was not planned - but not unwelcome either. It was simply the perfect addition to a perfect day.

❄️ He scooted closer carefully, trying not to wake you up. He just needed to be closer to you now, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips once again...

❄️ You stirred a bit as his fingers trailed over your exposed neck and shoulders, reaching the edge of the blanket. Slowly, he pushed them off your form, small goosebumps appearing on your warm skin. Maybe it was selfish - he should let you rest for however long you needed to - but...

❄️ His lips followed the path his fingers forged a few moments earlier, leaving tender, loving kisses. He felt your stir once more before your opened your eyes, smiling fondly. "Hey..." your voice was hoarse, still thick from sleep. "Hey," he answered quietly, the tiniest smirk forming on his lips. "What time is it?"

❄️ "Probably around 5 AM," Zayne answered, his lips reaching the small dip between your collarbones. You hummed, your eyes falling shut again. "Why are you awake already? I thought we're on vacation?" A chuckle left your lips, and Zayne continued planting kisses on your soft skin. "We are," he answered, slowly rolling on top of you again. "I just... need another taste."

🎨 The air flowing into the room was fresh and cool, carrying a salty taste from the sea. The long white curtains danced in the light wind, the sunlight streaming through the opened windows. You groaned a bit at the sudden coolness, only then feeling the weight on your back. Rafayel clung to you, snoozing happily, his head resting between your shoulders, his arms tightly wrapped around you.

🎨 He mumbled something incomprehensible and nuzzled your skin gently, littering sleepy kisses over your back. His hands shamelessly started wandering along your body, quickly finding and settling on your breasts, squeezing them gently.

🎨 "Good morning?" you chuckled lightly, not minding the needy fondling. "It is a good morning," he answered, his grin audible in his words, his hands squeezing your mounts again as if agreeing to his statement.

🎨 "Stop that," you giggled, trying to wiggle away from him - unsuccessfully. He deliberately pinned you down with a chuckle, his lips attacking your shoulder and neck. "Why would I? The noises you make are just so cute~"

🎨 He was relentless in his attacks, his kisses turning sultrier and sloppier with every passing minute. "Say," he groaned, pressing his hips against your behind lustfully, "this is not just a vivid dream, is it? And last night..."

🎨 You hummed in pleasure, thinking about the passionate moments you two had shared. "I don't think so," you answered with a light smirk, finally able to roll onto your back. He was above you immediately, his eyes filled with need and longing, as if he was still not sure if you were really there or just a cruel trick his mind was playing on him.

🎨 His lips found yours in a sweet kiss, filled with adoration and gentleness. He looked down at you again before stealing another kiss - the second of many many more that day.

💢 Usually, Sylus was a night-owl, and sleeping during the day. However, after your first time making love... he couldn't bring himself to leave the bed, and so he found himself between the sheets, with you in his arms. His fingers drew lazy patterns into your skin absentmindedly.

💢 Your head rested on his chest as you snoozed peacefully, fully content and safe in his strong and warm embrace. He was so sweet. So gentle. So loving. And now, with the way he held you, sleep had a tight grip on you. You refused to wake up and leave your cocoon of warmth and comfort.

💢 Eventually though, your mind was slowly pulled back to reality, your lids fluttering a few times as you woke up. "Good morning, kitten," he whispered, his deep voice filling the silence in the best way possible. You looked up at him slowly, only then realizing that he was, in fact, still there with you.

💢 "Morning..." you mumbled, rubbing your eyes gently. "Don't you have work...?" You yawned, propping yourself up slowly to look down at him. Sylus shrugged in response, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I can leave, if you want."

💢 You frowned and snuggled back into his side. "No," you said firmly, wrapping yourself around him slowly. "I was just confused for a second."

💢 He chuckled a bit, wrapping his arms around your form again. "That's what I thought," he smiled, kissing your forehead gently. "Luke and Kieran can deal with whatever's going on today. I'm not leaving this bed until you kick me out."

💢 You quirked a brow, grinning slightly. "Is that a promise?" you asked, nuzzling his neck gently before placing a kiss on his skin, right where his pulse was thrumming. Sylus hummed deeply and closed his eyes, pushing his head back and exposing his neck to you and your advances. You grinned and nibbled his skin, carefully at first... but it didn't take long for you to full-on attack his neck with kisses and love-bites. "Kitten," he droned, rolling onto his back with you on top of him, "I hope you intend to finish what you started."

[misshuntereevee]

sylus likes when you maintain eye contact in the bedroom. this imagine is 100% inspired by this post. it made me have thoughts. so enjoy.

content: smut ( mdni )

“Look at me.”

He grunts the words out, his hand reaching down to grab your chin. You’ve just woken up and the both of you are taking advantage of Sylus’ morning excitement.

However, when your eyes rolled back in pleasure, and then shut he gave a tsk, followed by that statement.: Look at me.

It takes you a second to register what he says. He pauses while waiting, before repeating it, emphasizing each world with a savage thrust: "Look at me. "

Your eyes fly open, and you whine at him. "Sy!"

“That’s a good girl. Your eyes are so pretty, so soft…” he rasps. His hands are now gripping you everywhere now as you find yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Sylus is like a beast, still rocking into you without mercy. His stamina and self control were amazing, and he often could fuck you through multiple orgasms. This morning seemed to be no different. He could feel you tightening around him.

"Good girl. Go ahead and come for me, alright? You've been so good, you deserve it." His mouth brushes over the shell of your ear as he rasps it to you. And just like that, you're clenching around him, a low pitched mewl coming out of your throat.

It makes him chuckle, but it's mixed with a groan. He always tells you that it's worth the self control to feel you tighten around him over and over again. As soon as he's fucked you through that orgasm, he flips you both over so that he's on his back.

"Ride me. And keep your eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see every reaction on that pretty little face. No matter how small." He smirks before playfully slapping your ass.

"I want you to take what you want," he says, "But if you close your eyes, I'll take over."

It's not a real threat, knowing that it'll still send you to the moon either way. But you nod at his demand, starting to rock your hips back and forth. He's already so big in general, but when you ride him, it makes him feel even bigger.

It's not long before you're working yourself to a frenzy on his cock. You notice a lot since he won't let you shut your eyes. It's almost infuriating how he seems almost unaffected. The key word, almost. There's little furrows of his brow, moments where his jaw twitches - struggling to remain a smirk... but he still manages to look coolly at you as you ride him.

"I'm so -- Sy," you whine, your hips whipping back and forth even faster now.

"Yes," he says, leaning up to suck at your nipples, even nipping gently at the underside of your breast. "Let me have it. Let me feel it... let go, take what you want. Take me."

His dirty commands send you over the edge. It's clear after your last orgasm that his restraint is holding on by a thread. Once you come down, he leans up to kiss you harshly.

"You like making me so lovesick, don't you?" He accuses in between words. It's teasing, along with nips and sucks along your neck. It's clear he's getting close, and the need to fuck you harder, rougher is setting in.

Once again, he flips you over, but this time, he withdraws from you. It's for the first time since you both woke up, and he tugs you so you're practically bending over the bed. "Want me to show you just how love sick you've made me, kitten?"

You nod, blissed out from your previous orgasms, and he growls, entering you to the hilt in one smooth motion. At this angle, he's pushing you up and down against the quilt. It''s rubbing against your clit as his cock pounds into you.

"Sylus!" You mewl, your hands looking for anything to hold onto. Instead of letting them find purchase, he takes them, pinning them behind your back as he continues to pound into you.

His thrusts are getting messy, and grunts are falling from his mouth in a symphony. You love the sounds he makes right before he finishes. It's enough to bring you to the brink of yet another orgasm.

"You're...you're so fucking impossible not to adore," he grunts, his thrusts speeding up even faster. Then, you feel him swell inside of you. You both come together, and he lets out a loud grunt as he pulls out, coming all over your stomach.

He collapses onto you for just a moment, and you both enjoy the intimacy before he's walking to the bathroom. He emerges with a washrag, cleaning up your backside. Once you're all taken care of, you both decide to spend the rest of the morning cuddling in bed. After all, after all that... who would want to leave the bed?

[megumimania]

art is in his mid 40s, reader is in late 20s/early 30s, smut (18+), p in v sex, choking, art is hungry as fuck, use of petnames. @cindol this one is for you babes!!

“you alright sweetheart?”

his voice is what snaps you out of your writing frenzy.

art’s dressed in a polo and khaki set with his sunglasses on, a glass of bourbon sitting pretty in his left hand. his serving hand. you almost shiver as you remember the way his calloused hands brushed against the small of your back in passing.

he takes the seat next to yours, his knees slightly brushing yours as he peers over your laptop that is covered by post it notes that contain the editors tweaks and suggestions.

for the next ten minutes the only constant sound interrupting his midday zen was the aggressive sound of you hitting the space and backspace button on your laptop.

the sound of your frustration and stress is palpable and before you slam the backspace button again, he breaks the silence.

“you should take a break.” he offers, the concern evident in his voice and for a split second you consider it, toying with it in your mind. but then reality hits and you remember the editor's harsh emails and the final deadline that is just looming around the corner.

“i’d love to but i can’t.” you sighed giving him an apologetic smile, “first draft is due at the end of the week.”

art looked at you confused for a second before he realised what you were talking about. his memoir.

it was why you were here in the first place. you spent weeks on the road with him heading to every conference, game or whatever event he decided to show up to when his team wanted to remind the public he was still very much alive.

he thought it was a stupid idea at first, another cash grab for his management to seep their paws into but art wasn’t having it. the only way they managed to get him to say yes was if they brought an up and coming writer onto the project.

over time your presence was something he had gotten used to, even though you often felt like you were overstepping his boundaries by being in his home so often. you’d then remind yourself that you were contracted on a professional basis, to ghost write his memoir that you’ll be paid for, in both money and notoriety.

but when art woke up to the sound of your footsteps shuffling around in the kitchen or the sound of you typing away on his laptop on the patio, it made the house feel less like an investment and more like a home. after all it had been a couple of years since he’d had a woman stay longer than a night or a couple of hours at his home.

“c’mon you’ve been on that wretched thing all day, your eyes must be killing you huh?” he cajoles, another attempt to get you to hang out with him.

art takes another sip of his drink eyeing you once more, feeling grateful for the little bit of sun the hampshire’s decided to grace you all with today.

his eyes roam over your figure, not for too long though he doesn’t want to creep you out but he’s not blind. you are a stunning woman and he likes that you weren’t blind to that fact.

“you know you wanna, who knows maybe playing a quick tennis match, will get your creative juices flowing.” usually you’d decline but when he stares at you with those baby blues that haven’t dimmed with age, it sends a shiver down your spine.

his eyebrows wiggle, earning a groan from you but you relented, saving the file before closing your laptop and heading back to get changed into more suitable attire. who knows maybe stepping into his domain would help with your writer’s block right now.

tennis with art was not something easy, despite his graceful playing style he was an actual powerhouse on the court and you couldn’t keep up. 

“you’re tapping out already?” he grins, whilst you’re too busy catching your breath to respond. all you can muster is a middle finger to which he laughs at.

you realised in the end, that if you were gonna win, you had to resort to dirty tactics.

“god, it is so hot out here!” you said, fanning yourself whilst taking off your jacket to reveal your figure. you based the success rate of this tactic on art being a typical man with desires.

and it worked.

who knew a simple dress would throw art off kilter? his movements grew less refined and more messy as the game progressed, with you throwing him off his a-game. his eyes were glued to your bod, you used this to your advantage as you made the winning serve.

the ball whizzes past art and he is a second too late to hit it back. you drop the racket basking in the sunlight and your newfound victory.

it’s oddly quiet on his front, a professional like him that couldn’t show decent showmanship? it was nothing new in the world of tennis—arrogant athletes who saw accepting defeat as a bruise to their overinflated ego.

however the thoughts stewing in art’s mind cannot be expressed plainly, he drinks you in, an incubus-esque hunger taking over him. the way your body glistened in the sunlight as a light sheen of sweat covered you from head to toe, to the white attire that made you seem heaven sent.

oh he was spiraling.

it wasn’t like he could do casual relationships, he had a few fleeting ones post split with tashi but art’s hunger prevailed where his logic could not. he wasn’t satisfied with a simple night.

underneath that cold yet affable demeanour that he spent years working on and correcting, there was a part of him that required something more deeper, more intense.

“so what’s my reward?” you ask, still up on the high that beating art gave you.

he decides to indulge you in whatever you want—his desires can be suppressed for another day. last time he got you a new laptop for beating him in a game of pool. however he’s taken off guard when he feels your soft lips press against his own, stirring up a pot of desire in him that cannot be contained.

so when you end up on his plush bed with him above you, your dress bunched up to your stomach as he fucks you relentlessly without pause, you’re in bliss. the sounds of art’s gold medals, clinking against your stomach with each thrust sends shivers down your spine, the cool metal against your skin driving you insane.

art thinks you’re beautiful like this, all splayed out for him to see, adorned with several of his gold medals, that he has won in several championships like wimbledon and the us open. he knows he’s being mean, bullying your sweet cunt like this but he can’t help it.

he pulls you in by his medals dangling across your chest forcing you to look at the mess you’re making on his dick. “keep your eyes open sweetheart, i want you to see the mess you’re making.” he tells you, his voice smoother than his favourite bottle of bourbon.

you’re lost in it all, your mind reeling like a roll of film as he ruts into you like an animal in heat. he unleashes a slew of moans and groans against your ear, the vibrations driving you closer to your release.

“a-art, ‘s too much i can’t take it.” was all you managed to get out, a mangled sob escaping your lips.

in spite of your brain getting turning into mush each time art hit that sweet spot that set you alight. he looks down at you with a wicked grin, his voice taking on a faux sympathetic tone.

he pressed a kiss to your neck, maintaining his pace. “winner takes all, sweetheart.” he says with a chilling edge, that makes you clench around him as he buries himself deeper into you, stretching you out even more as he peppers kisses to your neck, leaving bites and hickeys that were sure gonna sting tomorrow.

and from the way things were going, it was safe to say that you weren’t completing that manuscript anytime soon.

not while art had you in his grasp anyway.

[mr2swap]

Late Christmas gift

I looked at the kitchen clock again, “6:36PM” It had only been 2 minutes since I last looked, after that I looked at the phone just to confirm that the time was correct, Maybe Grandpa Greg's flight had missed. Delayed? We hadn't seen each other, I placed my grandfather's glasses over my eyes, which I had easily gotten used to always having at my side.

I hated these stupid glasses, Grandpa's eyes work as much as his tiny, wrinkled cock, it's been over a year since me and Grandpa swapped bodies, I'd forgotten to buy a damn gift for Grandpa Greg, I didn't even know he liked me. To old people before I became one... I should have given him a foot massager. This huge belly makes my feet so tired that I prefer not to move from the couch for hours.

Anyway, I didn't have a gift, so I just wrote on a piece of paper “Valid for any gift.” How the hell was I supposed to know that what I wanted for Christmas was to be young again?”

The day after Christmas we simply woke up in each other's bodies and the worst thing of all is that we can't say anything about this ridiculous body swapping! Every time I try to tell my parents or one of my friends that I'm trapped in my grandfather Greg's obese, disgusting decrepit body, those thoughts just disappear from my mind and I start talking like I'm a 60-year-old old man. The last time I tried to tell my ex-girlfriend Stephanie, I “woke up” at the racetrack showing off my enormous stomach with a pipe in my lips and several empty beer cans around me.

But all this would end soon... or at least it was supposed to. We had tried everything to swap again, we even watched a long marathon of body swap movies to try various methods, but nothing worked... the only solution was to try to recreate what caused this problem in the first place, I just had to give him the same gift, and he would write “my body back” or something like that.

My family was preparing for dinner when suddenly a sound that came from my cell phone made me put the beer I was drinking on my huge belly.

“I'm sorry kid, but I didn't know how to tell you in person, I decided to leave things as they are for a while, I still have things to do with your body, but don't worry I'll be back for the new year... maybe, I just met a guy incredible on the beach and I wouldn't want to ruin it”

Hey guys! happy holidays!

This is a little story I wrote last year for my Ko-Fi page, thank you all so much for another wonderful year, if you like bodyswap and stories you can support me on my Ko-fi page to access my archive of over 250 bodyswap stories, from my old patreon and discord…

oh! And join my discord server, if you like RP or if you have any ideas that you would like me to write in a future story, I'm taking suggestions for ideas and images.

[dollyfiles]

obsessive & perverted exbf!rafe sneaking into your house to remind you he’s the only one allowed to touch you

cw : dark!rafe x fem!reader, noncon, forced penetration, unprotected sex, rough, creampie

Rafe was crouching down by the flower pot, just like he used to when you two were together, feeling for the little metal key you always hid there before finally finding it. Every step up the stairs brought him closer to you, and the voice in his head grew louder. It wasn't just obsession; it was need. A sick, twisted need to own you, to claim you again, to prove to himself that you hadn't slipped through his fingers completely.

When he reached your bedroom and saw you lying there, so peaceful, so oblivious, a wave of shame washed over him. He knew this was wrong. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't even be thinking about touching you. But the voices were taking over him.

Rafe stepped closer, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch your cheek, just like this random guy did earlier today which is why Rafe was even here in the first place. You were doing this on purpose. You had to be. Why else would you be so friendly, so flirty, right in front of him? Did you really think you could move on? Did you think he would let you?

As he climbed onto the bed, his weight barely shifting the mattress, his thoughts turned darker. He hated you for making him feel like this, hated you for pushing him to the edge. But more than anything, he hated the idea of you forgetting him. Of you giving that smile, that laugh, that body to someone else. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice rough as his hand slid down your side. "You don't get to pretend like you're not."

His hand wandered down your body, rough and possessive as he claimed what he believed was still his. Gripping your pink lace panties he pulled them down to your ankles, revealing your perfect little cunt to him. The sight almost making him cum in his pants. It had been way to long since he got to touch you like this.

You woke up with a gasp as you felt cold digits slipping through your folds, eyes wide with confusion and fear. At first, you thought you were still dreaming—it had to be a dream. Rafe wasn't here. He wasn't allowed to be here.

But his obsession had consumed him completely. He pinned your wrists above your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Don't look at me like that, angel. You knew this would happen. You knew I wouldn't let you go.”

Your breath hitched as his grip on you suddenly roughened, flipping you on your tummy and pressing your face into the pillows, while every gasp, every tear, every tremble of your resistance only fueled him further. This was how he claimed you, how he reminded you who you belonged to.

You’d broken things off weeks ago, desperate to escape the toxic spiral of your love. Rafe wasn't just possessive—he was dangerous. He consumed you, broke you, shaped you into something you barely recognized.

"Rafe, please," you whispered, voice shaking as you heard the buckle of his belt. "Don't do this." But he didn't listen. He never listened. "Shh," he said, his voice soft but firm, like he was scolding a child. "This is where you belong. You know it is."

Your stomach twisted at his words, holding onto the sheets of your bed as you felt the tip of his cock push past your entrance. You wanted to fight back, to scream, to push him away—but deep down, you knew it was useless. He was stronger than you, both physically and mentally. He always had been.

As his hands gripped your hips, forcing you to submit, tears welled in your eyes, but Rafe didn't see them. Or maybe he did, and he just didn't care. To him, this was love. Twisted and consuming, but love nonetheless. He made you his doll, his perfect little angel, molding you into whatever he needed you to be. And even now, after everything, you let him. It was pathetic.

He let out a deep growl once he was fully inside you, your cunt gripping him tightly even though you wanted to vomit, your body tensing up. “Shit angel, this fucking pussy missed my cock, huh?”

You cried, shaking your head uncontrollably as if it was just a bad dream, “stop, plea—“ you yelped as he pulled your back up against his chest, Rafe’s palm finding your mouth immediately and shutting you up, not wanting to wake up your parents, who were sleeping peacefully down the hallway.

He kept on pounding into you at a rough pace, hitting so deep that you knew your walls would be permanently outstretched, your abused cunt throbbing around him, despite the disgust you felt for your ex. "You think you can just forget about me?" he whispered, his voice low and breathy, one of his hands gripping your hips so hard that he knew there’d be bruises, wanting to leave his marks on you. "Flirt with some guy like I don't exist?"

His face was so close to yours, loving the sight of your tired and tear stained face, looking so small and helpless beneath him while little whimpers and cries left your lips. It was sick. He was sick.

There was nothing you could really do except take it. He was trapping your body with his hands, tightly holding you in place. he kept pushing and pushing until he the tip of his cock hit your cervix, your cunt squeezing him tightly as your fear slowly turned into something like pleasure.

You tried to you remind yourself that this wasn't love. It wasn't passion. It was control, manipulation, obsession. But a small, dark part of you—the part you tried to bury, to forget, whispered that maybe this was exactly what you deserved. You knew Rafe was anything else than okay, and yet you let yourself fall for him, and look where that got you.

“Fuck you like that shit, don’t you? Your eager pussy is holding onto me so hard, baby. Such a cockslut.”

It seemed like there was no end in sight. Except you felt something build up in your abdomen, your walls clenching around his cock as you shakily released all over him, creaming his cock. Rafe couldn’t hide his smirk, the way your body was reacting to his touch had him weak, hips bucking into you more irregularly as he was chasing release himself.

"Fuck", Rafe muttered against your shoulder, his voice a low, guttural growl. "You're perfect. Gonna fill you to the brim.” Panic shot through you, squirming in his grip but he held you in place. His thrusts became slightly faster, each one more forceful, driving himself closer to the edge. Your body tensed, your moans muffled against the palm of his hand as you felt his cock twitch, Rafe moaning out as hot ropes of his cum spilled inside your plush walls.

Your cunt was aching as he pulled out, some of his seeds dripping out and onto your velvet sheets. To Rafe it was a sight sent from heaven itself, seeing you all fucked out on your bed, knowing he was the one that got you like this.

All you could do was lay still, your body trembling as Rafe's weight completely shifted off of you. You didn't move, didn't speak as he buckled his pants, eyes focused on you while his heart was still racing. "That’s what happens when you forget," he said, his voice cold but satisfied. "You're mine, angel. Don't make me remind you again."

You let out a quiet sob, tears soaking the silk of your pyjamas as you curled into yourself. Even though Rafe hated to see you like this he felt a weird sense of satisfaction. You were his. You’d always be his. And if you’d ever try to forget, he’d be there to remind you again. Because the thruth was; you could never really escape him.

tags .ᐟ @rafesbangs @pintrestgrl @vampteeths @ickyrafe @bambiangels @kissyrafe

[blackynsupremacy]

THIS CHRISTMAS

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: celebrating christmas with your husband and daughter has never been sweeter.

contains: holiday cheer and fluff, established relationship, reader and nicholas are married, wife/mom!reader, husband/dad!nicholas, just holly jolly vibes, kissing, cuddling, a little suggestiveness, nicholas calls his daughter “butterfly”.

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS SHAWTIES!

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @miguelspvssy

“mommy! daddy! wake up! it’s christmas!”

the elated voice of your five-year-old daughter, armani, woke you and your husband, nicholas, up out of your slumber as she was jumping at the foot of your bed in her pink, buffalo plaid pajama set along with a matching pink, silk bonnet to protect her freshly, braided hair with beads. with a yawn and stretch, your eyes slowly open to look over at the digital clock on your nightstand that read eight a.m. sharp.

“mhm—that’s right, ‘mani.” you rub the sleep out of your eyes to clearly get a glimpse of the pristine blanket of snow that covered every inch of the yard like a winter fantasy. you found that to be absolutely perfect for a day like this. you open your arms to your daughter who wastes no time to snuggle within your lap, you hug her to your chest and place a kiss atop of the silk of her headwrap.

“you ready to see what santa got you, my love?” you question with a whisper, armani hastily nodded, but she was hesitant.

“yeah—but, not without daddy.” she responded also in a whisper. you smile. armani loved you both immensely, but it was no lie that she was a daddy’s girl, so you let her do the honors. the little girl rolls over to shake your snoring husband’s shoulder.

“daaaaaddy! wake upppp!” she urged pushing him as if he were an hundred pound log that was impossible to move.

“nooo, five more minutes…” nicholas grumbled, pulling the covers tighter over his body.

“nuh-uh!” with a pout, armani shook her head. “i can’t waitttt! i want to see what santa got and i don’t want to do it without you, pleaseee!” with a pout she begged and crawled over nicholas, hoping her father would muster the strength to free himself from the warm cocoon of blankets. armani repeatedly tapped his head and shoulders, causing you to chuckle. you loved that she was tenacious, a true fighter who knows what she wants. nicholas couldn’t knock it at all. with a sudden burst of energy, his arm came around to entrap armani in an embrace in which she squealed loudly.

“daddy’s up now! good morning, butterfly.” he greets planting a kiss on the giggling girl’s cheek. you’ve always loved that nickname for her. when she was first born, he coined that for her because it was like she was in a cozy cocoon as a baby and as time passes by, she continues to grow and change into something as beautiful as a butterfly. you and nicholas were just a young twenty year old couple in college that happened to fool around one too many times which resulted in you getting pregnant. you were terrified because you thought that nicholas would surely leave, but it was the exact opposite. he was on his way to star in a soap opera and he still wanted to be there for you and his child, knowing he could support you both. it was a tough journey, but you found a love that grew deeper. when your daughter hit six months, nicholas popped the question. it wasn’t a huge wedding because you just didn’t have the time to plan all of it, but it was still a joyous day nonetheless.

armani excitedly greets him back with a kiss on his cheek, his eyes then land on you watching the whole thing as your melodious laughter fills the room. he observes with a mischievous grin,

“what’s so funny, gorgeous? i bet you want what she’s having. c’mere!” he quips and you try to protest, but it’s too late as you’re already scooped by nicholas’ free arm to be glued by his side while your daughter resides in his lap.

“merry christmas, girls!” he enthusiastically chimed and you simultaneously return the greeting. armani urges you both to get a move on and open some gifts. all on one accord, you and your family washed your faces and brushed your teeth before venturing downstairs to the lit, decorated living room with nicholas by your side and armani on his hip. she’s so spoiled! the christmas tree was a sight for sore eyes as presents galore were perfectly aligned around the tree.

“yaaaaaay!” armani squirms within her dad’s arms for him chuckle and release her to the floor, her tiny feet scurrying around not knowing which present to open first. you and your husband were exhausted from setting out these presents while armani was in a deep slumber, so you took a seat on the couch and took out your phone to capture this moment. armani was estatic as she opened every gift to reveal an item that she wanted on her list. a barbie dream house, lol dollz, squishmallows, and the top two for being extra good during her first semester of kindergarten: a brand new bike and a tenth generation pink ipad with an apple pencil.

“look what i got! you see it, mommy? look, daddy!” she ran up to you both to reveal the packaged devices in which you both will set up later for her.

“that’s awesome, butterfly! that’s what you get for being such a good girl all year. i’m so proud of you—now, what do we always say when we get something, hm?” nicholas communicates, leaning forward on his knees while caressing his thumb over the honey skin of his daughter’s face to which she grins. you coo at the interaction.

“thank you so much! this is the best christmas ever.” she comes in to individually give you each a hug.

“that’s my girl!” nicholas commends returning the hug.

“you’re welcome, ‘mani! santa’s glad you’re enjoying everything.” you say with a knowing wink towards your husband.

“i got something for you too! wait, don’t move.” she hurriedly ran upstairs to retrieve the gift she made in school which was expertly hidden in her bedroom until christmas. as armani walks down she calls out in the distance,

“i’m coming. close your eyes, okay!?”

you and nicholas smile, complying to her request. you could hear the patter of her tiny feet scurry to you closer.

“you can open them now!” she proudly announced. you and nicholas are amazed to see the crafted gifts your daughter put so much thought into. for you, she made a bracelet that resembled those from taylor swift’s eras tour, successfully spelling the word, “MOMMY”. although you weren’t a big fan, you can’t resist belting out some songs with armani when the opportunity is presented because she adores the singer. for nicholas, it was a calender for the upcoming year, featuring her own unique artwork for each month. armani made it because nicholas’ schedule can get so hectic, so she thought the calendar would help him to keep track, he cherished it with his entire being. you both could cry in gratitude, but you scoop her into a group hug with a simultaneous “thank you.” after exchanging gifts with one another as a couple, nicholas thought it would be a great idea to to bundle up in the new matching north face winter gear he gifted for the family to have some fun in the snow while it was still early.

armani didn’t need an ounce of candy from her stocking for her to bounce off the walls in anticipation as you all got washed up and dressed. as soon as you stepped foot outside, all you could do was stare in awe at how much snow covered the area. it was like straight out of a christmas movie. you could already hear the soft clacking of your daughter’s hair beads as she moved around to scope the yard.

“be careful walking, baby girl, i don’t want you to fall, ‘kay?” you instruct and she responds with a nod.

“yes, ma’am. may we go now, daddy?” she questioned to nicholas, tugging on his arm. he looked at you both a mischievous smirk. lord, what is this man up to now?

“i don’t see why not, butterfly—the last one to make a snow angel is a stinky grinch!” he exclaimed to let go of armani’s hand to get a head start into the icy, white powder on the ground.

“oh, no he didn’t! c’mon, ‘mani.” you giggle and race with your daughter to follow after nicholas. before you know it, you’re all in your own space of snow, sprawling your limbs up and down to sculpt the perfect snow angel in the frosted covered earth. nicholas was first to get up from his spot to marvel at the indention he made. like the strong gentleman he is, he reaches out his arms for you and armani each to get you out of the snow. you take your phone out to snap a photo of the family of angels. as you were saving it to a special album in your phone, you didn’t expect for your back to be pelted by a speedball of ice, causing you to yelp at the sensation. you turned slowly with a playful menacing glare towards nicholas and armani who seem to look so “innocent”.

“a’ight. ‘fess up! who did that?” you interrogate them, crouching to the snow as you plot to get your lick back. once your icy spheres of ammo are locked and loaded within your gloved hands, you give them one more chance only for them to point the finger at each other.

“it was daddy!” armani defended.

“nah, don’t listen to her, babe. i swear i saw the whole thing. it was definitely armani.” nicholas rebutted with his hands up in surrender. you smirk with a low chuckle as if you were a supervillain,

“then i guess you leave me no choice.” you say, lifting your arms to aim the snowballs before throwing them in their direction to hit nicholas in his chest and armani in her stomach, causing you all to laugh, but now this means war. you all spent the next hour with your family running around the yard trying to see who can get the most hits followed by building your own snowman. you notice your daughter starting to shiver from the cold and that was your cue to go back inside for breakfast.

after dressing comfortably in a fresh pair of matching pajamas, nicholas sets the atmosphere by gathering some wood to burn in the fireplace while you and armani put the spread of breakfast along with mugs of hot chocolate together on the table. everybody took their seats, it was a lovely meal where you ate and talked about anything under the sun. you all took turns to decorate your hot chocolate with whip cream, chocolate sauce, and sprinkles. you giggle seeing that nicholas went overboard with the whip cream. after he took a sip from the red mug, it was all over his nose and upper lip.

“butterfly.” he calls, causing armani to turn her head. once she gets a glimpse of nicholas’ appearance, the room was instantly filled with her giggles.

“can i get a kiss?” he requested, grinning widely with his messy face.

“noooo!” armani refused her beads clacking as she shakes her head. nicholas pouted,

“why not, butterfly?”

“because you’re a mess, daddy! give mommy one.” she points in your direction to which you wave your hands in refusal, “mm-mm, ‘mani! i don’t want that either. take one for the team.” you say with a chuckle, taking a sip from your mug.

“okay, but if daddy kisses me, i want another present.”

“what would that be, boo?” you ask, yours and nicholas’ brows raise in piqued curiosity.

“hmm—y’know i love you and daddy so much?”

“of course and we love you so much, butterfly.” nicholas affirmed and you nod in agreement by placing a kiss on her forehead.

“i want a baby!” the five year old announces with a beaming voice. you choke on your drink a bit at hearing the words come out, nicholas calmly chimes in to clarify.

“you mean like a baby doll or a real baby?”

armani sighs and palms her face, eager to get her point across. “a real baby, daddy! i just want someone to play with—so, if i give you a kiss, there’ll be a baby next year?” nicholas gave you a glance as you both pondered on the thought. it wouldn’t be so bad. you felt you got some footing on this parenting thing. your careers are established and you’re financially stable. there’s no denial that your baby had grown so fast. it felt like yesterday that she was barely crawling on her first christmas and now, she’s making and giving away her own gifts. you see it from her side as well, having siblings could be such a blessing when the foundation of the relationship is real love, so you give in.

“okay, armani, you got it, but you gotta be patient—really patient.”

“yes!” the girl cheered, she raised her arms before patting her face towards her dad, “hurry, daddy, hurry!” nicholas didn’t waste time to lift her in his arms to plant a sweet kiss to her face which was now covered in the whip cream. she squealed at the sensation to wipe away the mess.

once the kitchen was clean and you made some phone calls of holiday greetings to some family members, you all lay back on the sofa to have a christmas movie marathon starting with none other than home alone. you all enjoy in the classic slapstick hijinks of kevin mcallister. nicholas being the movie geek he is, spoke softly to put in some commentary regarding the film.

“you guys know that black and white crime movie he was watching isn’t real, right?”

“really? how you do know?” armani curiously asked.

“i, uh—mm, i looked it up because i wanted to watch it, aha!” he cleared his throat and bashfully chuckled, wrapping his large arm around you as armani snuggled closer into his chest. by the time the movie ended, your daughter was already snoring away. it was only half past noon and she was tuckered out from all of the holiday excitement. now, with armani peacefully napping in her room, the house was filled with a serene silence. you and nicholas settled in your own bedroom. he leaned back against the headboard pulling you into his side, his warmth radiating against you as the comforter concealed your bodies. there was a pause of silence before nicholas broke it.

“babe, did you mean that earlier?” he asked softly, glancing down at you. “about having another baby?”

“well…” you trail off, cutting a piqued glare towards your husband. “that depends on what you think about it.”

nicholas chuckled, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “well, i guess we have to think about it, don’t we? it’s a big decision.” he paused, a playful grin spreading across his face. “but i can’t deny that the idea of another little one running around would be kind of—sweet.”

you bit your lip with a smile, feeling your face heat up and your heart flutter at the thought. “i think armani would be such a great big sister. she’s already so nurturing as it is. plus, she’s playful, imaginative, and dramatic—thanks to her dad.” you smirk at his feigned offense,

“i beg your pardon. i think she takes that dramatic part after you.”

“says the literal actor.” you quickly retort. he raises his right hand in surrender,

“got me there.”

you both dissolve into laughter for it to die down before resuming the conversation. nicholas expression turned more serious for a moment, gently taking your left hand within his and peering into your eyes. “but it’s not just about armani, y’know, it’s about us too. are we ready for that?” you took a moment, reflecting once more on the joy that armani brought into your lives despite the circumstances. “baby, i think we could handle it. we have our jobs and our home. plus, we make a pretty good team, you know?” you pause, another thought popping into your mind that could further convince him,

“besides, this could be a chance for you to not be the only guy in the house. you’re a boss at being a girl dad no doubt, but deep down you’d want a little nick causing havoc with you.” with a chuckle, his gaze softened, and he leaned in closer to your ear, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “you had me convinced at havoc.” he pressed a lingering kiss to your jaw before peppering more along the line and descending to your neck. he then held onto you to lay you down against the mattress, straddling your body.

“you think we should start trying now?” his smirking lips ghosted over yours for a second before closing the gap between you in a slow, sensual kiss. after indulging in each other for a moment, he pulls back to place his forehead on yours with a gaze mixed of both romance and lust.

“there’s still one gift we haven’t exchanged yet.” he teased, returning his lips to yours as his hands slowly go under your pajama shirt. you hum softly encouraging him as you felt the temperature of your body rise with every touch to your skin. just as he was about to lift it up, there was a knock at your bedroom door,

“mommy, daddy! can you help me? i wanna play on my ipad.” you and nicholas quickly separate with a sigh and chuckle as you were both back to reality. nicholas rolls himself from on top of you and pulls the covers away to stand and stretch,

“i’m coming, butterfly! gimme a minute, okay?” he calls out before turning to you,

“duty calls. i’ll handle this now then i’ll handle you later?” he asked shooting you a wink.

you giggle with a nod, he was the same flirt that you met five years ago.

“go on. do your thing! i’ll be waiting with your gift right here.” you slyly respond laying across the bed with your chin resting in your palm.

“oh, you better.” he said, opening the door to greet your daughter and promptly attend to her needs. as you peer out of the window at the snowy blizzard outside, you realize that this christmas, you couldn’t ask for anything better than what you have right now.

[cowboylikefaith]

with great power...

art donaldson spiderman! au x reader

summary: stanford has a masked superhero on the loose, and you're trying to crack down on his identity. little do you know, it's your boyfriend art.

warnings: cursing, injuries, reader highkey gets mugged, art is being mysterious af, reader is incredibly oblivious, sappy at the end sorry, not proofread

author's note: HI so this is actually my first time writing a fic ever... but this au idea has been absolutely rotting in my brain for the past week or so and i need to get it out. enjoy!!!!!!

╰🕸️ ₊✧ ﾟ❤️⚬𓂂➢

"dude!" you say barging into art's dorm (not realizing that your poor boyfriend was in the middle of a nap) "look at the topic the newspaper just assigned me. some shithead on campus is doing parkour in a scuba suit, people are calling him 'spiderman'."

art is pulled out of his trance-like state when he hears the name fall out of your mouth. you feel bad after realizing you woke him up, seeing him wipe his tired eyes with a pout on his lips. "hey pretty" he says with a lopsided smirk on his face "what were you talking about? some spider-idiot?" you hop into bed next to him "yeah it's nothing...sorry for waking you up, just go back to bed, 'kay?"

you don't know what's been up with art recently. he rarely returns your calls, he's always tired, and when he's awake, he's either in a rush or incredibly sluggish. you asked patrick about it and he said that the beginning of a new tennis season is wearing both of them down. seems reasonable, right?

now, it's been a few weeks since you were assigned this story, and jess (your senior editor) wants you to photograph and interview this spiderman guy, because apparently he's some kind of campus superhero (returning stolen laptops, helping drunk sorority girls avoid getting hit by cars, the usual) however you have no leads so far.

until one day, tashi tells you a story about how he saved a freshman from the tennis team from being hazed, and you decide to ask your boyfriend about it.

"you don't know anything about a kid named steven mcdonald, do you?" you ask art as you settle down to watch some gossip girl.

"that freshman who survived a hazing incident? yeah, i know of him" he replies as he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead.

you pull away with furrowed eyebrows "well did he...say...anything about that night?"

"uh no. no, not really" he says (a little distantly) "anyway! i seriously don't understand why serena loves dan so much, nate is obviously the better choice for her."

you roll your eyes sarcastically "wow donaldson...really smooth transition! way to change the subject there honey."

"i'm sorry.." he replies as he plays with your hair "it's just that...i don't want you getting mixed up in that kind of stuff. if you got hurt.." he sighs "i don't know what i'd do with myself"

and so you promise art that you'll stop working on the article...until jess says she'll kick you out of the stanford star if you do.

one night, as you're walking back to your dorm after dinner with tashi and patrick (third wheel much?), a man in a black ski mask suddenly approaches you and orders you to put your hands up.

"give me your fucking heels lady...and your purse!" he demands.

"oh god no" you shut your eyes and groan "please sir, these are really expensive and- and these are manolo blahniks!! my mom bought-"

before you can finish your rambling, you can hear a thud, and when open your eyes, you can see that he's been wrapped up in some web-like substance.

"don't worry, he's not dead" a figure says as he walks out from behind the criminal. you feel like you know him, you can't even see his face but something about him is just so familiar, and you can't put your finger on it. until..

oh my god

"oh my god! you're spiderman! thank you so much, seriously. that guy could've killed me" you say excitedly, forgetting about your past opinions about him.

art- i mean spiderman, chuckles and says that it's no problem, and asks if he could take you back to your dorm.

"yeah! i would love that, thank you." you reply "actually, could i take your photo? i'm doing an article about you for the stanford star." oh and art eats it UP. he's doing stupid poses and acting silly and goofy (just to hear you laugh of course).

you get back to your dorm safely, and spiderart bids you farewell. just before he leaps out your window, he pulls a red stanford cap (one that you've never noticed, and one that looks suspiciously like art's) out of his pocket.

"hey, maybe i'll see you around" he says as he puts the cap on...backwards. something that only art would do. lucky enough for him, you're too tired to notice.

"...and those are the differences between meiosis and mitosis." you're trying to study for another biology exam when all of a sudden you hear a tapping noise on your window.

at first you think it's a bird, or some frat boy trying to piss you off by throwing empty beer cans at your window, but the tapping turns into banging and you start to hear sounds of pain through the glass.

you run to the window and see a boy in a familiar red and blue suit sitting on the windowsill. this time with a huge gash in his side.

"spiderman? oh my god, get inside, what happened?" you ask while scrambling for a first aid kit. art falls onto your bed, unknowingly bleeding all over your new floral sheets. he groans and holds his side, mumbling something about...well god knows what.

art protests as you try to patch up the very open wound by his waist. "you're just like my boyfriend art," you say with a grin "he gets all fucked up during his tennis matches and doesn't let me help him out." you can hear him through the mask but you can't tell if it's a laugh or a whimper.

"jesus- how long is this going to take? i have an econ final to study for" he says with a wince. "not very long if you sit still, spiderboy" you retort "why don't you take off your mask? you must be dying with that thing on."

you feel his face, and it feels...familiar. you slowly take off the mask, and reveal art's lips, sculpted nose, blue and brown eyes, and tousled blonde hair.

suddenly you realize. you realize the reasons for the missed calls, hurried kisses, and rain-checked dates. all this time you've been thinking that it was tennis kicking his ass, when really art was kicking other people's.

"hi honey" art mumbles, same lopsided, boyish smile that you fell in love with gracing his face "i'm sorry. i should have told you." before you can say anything, he kisses you and sneaks his hands to the small of your back. you can feel him smiling into the kiss as he pulls you into his lap.

"i missed you" you say, pulling away with a pout. you card your hands through his blonde curls. "i know, i know, i'm sorry pretty girl, it's just that...i don't want you to worry about me." art replies, pushing your hair away from your face.

you flick his forehead. "you dumbass. of course i'm going to worry about you, whether you like it or not...because i like you. a lot. no matter what kind of freaky superpowers you have." art lets out a weak chuckle, then he kisses you like a man stuck in the desert for 40 days. you can feel him drawing small circles along your hips and caressing your thumb.

you pull away one last time. "now tell me spiderboy...how did you go from tennis team captain to stanford superhero?"

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two

I'm bored so [smashes plate] ANOTHER! I've been writing this faster than I thought I would 🤭 Hope everyone is having lovely and relaxing holidays xx

Warnings: just angst and the case progressing! Hotch is kinda an asshole but it's just how they show their love to each other xoxo

“You and Hotch still got it, huh?” Morgan teases, leaning his head over to grin at you. Part of you missed car rides with Derek, and the other part of you remembers just how much of a little shit he can be.

“Shut up and look at the road,” you mutter, pushing his face away from you.

“I’m looking, I’m looking,” Derek taps the wheel, shaking his head to get your hand off him. “What is it with you two, anyway?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “We’ve never gotten along, you know that. You were there when we met.”

“Uh, yeah, I remember being glad Hotch got all the heat instead of me,” Derek chuckles. “You’re intimidating when you’re pissed off.”

“Good,” you say, smirking. “That’s the point.”

“Alright,” Derek says, letting the topic go. For now. “We’ve got five minutes ‘til we reach her house. What are we telling her?”

“Well, I want to take a look around, if you’d like to talk.”

“I can stall,” Derek nods.

“Five bucks says there will be no pictures of the father in the house, at least not in the living area or hallway, where family photos most commonly are.”

“You sound like Reid,” Morgan quips.

“Our IQ’s are really close,” you remind him. “I just don’t have a damn eidetic memory. That shit is insane. I don’t envy him there.”

“Me either,” Derek shakes his head. “I remember things plenty without a magic memory.”

“I hear that.”

Derek turns into the driveway of Lila’s home. One car is in the driveway, a silver Ford. Her mom’s car.

“Ready?” Derek asks.

“Never,” you reply, opening your door. “But it’s our job.”

Derek knocks on the front door, but stands back so you’re the first face the mom will see. Given who her ex-husband is, you suspect she might be distrustful of all men, regardless of whether or not they’re here to help.

As expected, the mom eyes Morgan’s badge more closely than yours.

“May we come inside?” you ask.

“Yes,” she says, pulling the door open to let you both inside. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Morgan says politely.

After shutting the door, the mom begins talking — rambling incoherently, more like.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, dropping her off at school this morning. I knew something felt off when I woke up, it just— I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Ma’am,” Derek says. “Please, sit down.”

“I can’t,” she says, waving both of her hands like windshield wipers in front of her body. “I need to pace. Helps me think better.”

Derek looks at you, and you shrug. She’s obviously too wound up to sit down. Which is a good sign. If she was indifferent or resigned, there would be a bigger issue at hand. Clearly, she had no idea this would happen, so she definitely wasn’t in on it.

You take a look around the living room while Derek calms the mother down, mostly just letting her ramble, and take mental notes of what to ask her about later.

As you predicted, there are no photos with the father in the picture. All of them are the mother and Lila, mostly baby photos. Lila is a pre-teen, she clearly doesn’t want her photo taken. There is one where Lila looks older, but she’s not happy.

You take a closer look. She’s really unhappy.

“Mrs. Monroe?” You turn toward her, a sympathetic smile on your lips. “Has Lila been depressed lately?”

Her mom nods. “She’s been struggling ever since uhm— Ever since her father left. I’ve had her in therapy every week, but her therapist says she’s not really opening up. She might later, but right now she just doesn’t talk at all. She doesn’t want to.”

“I understand,” you murmur. “You’ve done the right thing by getting her help. Even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”

“She still ran away!” Mrs. Monroe cries.

“Please,” you move toward her, resting your hand on her arm. “Let’s sit. Can Agent Morgan get you a glass of water?”

She nods, looking up at Morgan. “Thank you.”

Derek disappears into the kitchen.

“What makes you think Lila ran away? Other than her mood, were there any other signs?”

Mrs. Monroe shakes her head. “She’s talked about it before, told me she wanted to run away and that she hated me. I thought therapy would help with that, but it hasn’t.”

“Would her father help her at all? Run away, I mean.”

“Richard?” Mrs. Monroe asks. Derek reappears with a glass of water, handing it to her. “Thank you. No, he wouldn’t, he— She doesn’t even know what he’s done. I’ve never told her.”

“Would she be capable of finding out?” Derek asks. He takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you, resting his elbows on his knees.

“No,” Mrs. Monroe shakes her head. “I monitor all of her Internet searches, who she texts, who she emails, everything. She thinks I drove him away. That I didn’t love him anymore and told him to get out. She doesn’t know that it was because I caught him burying a body.” She sobs into her hand, her words barely decipherable now. “And now she’s gone and she hates me and I don’t even know where she’d go— it’s like I don’t even know my own daughter.”

You take the glass from her hand and allow her to sob into your shoulder. You know what this is like. Because you were once Lila, a runaway who left her mother in pieces until she returned home. Your circumstances were different, but not by much at all.

“We will bring her home, I promise,” you say, despite yourself. Despite not knowing what the rest of this case will entail, what else you’ll uncover. “Did Lila have any friends that you didn’t approve of?”

Mrs. Monroe shakes her head again. “She doesn’t have many friends, but she talks to one girl, Marie, almost every day.”

“Where is Marie right now?”

“At school,” Mrs. Monroe says, sniffling. “I called her mom right away. My mind went to the worst case scenario, you know, I thought Lila would grab Marie and convince her to go with her—”

“Convince?” you question. 

Derek hears you and asks the next question you have on your mind. “Does Lila ‘convince’ Marie to do things she doesn’t want to do often?”

“Sometimes,” Mrs. Monroe admits, beginning to sob again. “Oh, God.”

You share a look with Derek, not liking where this is going, but you don’t know if you’ll get much else out of her right now.

“What things would Lila convince Marie to do?” you ask.

“Just small things, I don’t know,” Mrs. Monroe replies. She’s shutting down. “I don’t know why I said that, I—”

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” you try to calm her down. “Do you mind if Agent Morgan and I take a look in Lila’s room?”

“How will that help?”

“We might be able to find something that could tell us where Lila might have gone,” Morgan explains. “Sometimes kids leave clues. We might be able to find them.”

Mrs. Monroe nods. “Okay. Can I— Is it alright if I lay down while you do that?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Come on, let’s get you to your room.”

You help her stand and walk back toward her bedroom, getting her inside. She lays down on top of the covers and shuts her eyes.

You close her door and meet Morgan back in the living room, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Y/N’s back, you’re on speaker, Hotch.”

You roll your eyes involuntarily. Hotch couldn’t leave the two of you — mainly you — alone, could he? 

“Alright, I want the two of you to stay there and go through Lila’s room. Tell us anything you find. The school has given Garcia their security camera footage; she’s going through it now. It’s like she’s disappeared into thin air and that is not good.”

“We’ll find her, Hotch,” Morgan says.

Hotch is quiet.

“Mrs. Monroe doesn’t think Richard had anything to do with this. She says Lila doesn’t even know—”

“Morgan told me,” Hotch says. “Call me back when you have something new.” He hangs up and you roll your eyes again.

“I’m gonna keep a tally of how many times you do that,” Morgan teases.

“Be my guest,” you reply. “And keep me updated. I bet it’ll be in the hundreds by the time this case is over.”

Lila’s room is everything you’d expect from a regular pre-teen girl. And reminds you too much of your room when you were her age.

It’s almost like she’s too open. Posters are everywhere. Her favorite movies, actors, and bands. Her bed is made. Her closet is neat. The desk is covered in schoolbooks, yet also clean. 

“Morgan, I know this room.”

He turns around. “What?”

“We can know everything about her from one glance. She’s organized. She loves English, hates science, but is very good at math. She likes alternative music, not boybands,” you point to the posters. “Fantasy movies only. Her closet is too neat. It’s like she’s not even living here.”

“I’m not following.”

“I think she’s been planning her escape for a long time,” you say. “Which makes me think she had help.”

“Okay,” Morgan goes with it. “From who? You heard her mom, she watches everything Lila does.”

My mom did too, you think to yourself as you pull out your phone. You already have Garcia on speed dial, something she suggested for you.

“What can I do for you, my new angel?” 

Morgan chuckles while you answer Garcia. “Can you possibly see the search history after it’s been deleted?”

“Duh,” Garcia says. “Give me the IP address and I can show you all the dirty, dirty secrets on there.”

“Perfect, I’m going now,” you leave Lila’s room, peeking in Mrs. Monroe’s room to be sure she’s still resting. She is. 

You head to the living room where you saw Mrs. Monroe’s computer. Thankfully, after wiggling the mouse, it comes right up. No password or anything.

“Okay, she must really watch what Lila does,” you mumble. As in, Mrs. Monroe must stand over her daughter’s shoulder before even letting her turn the computer on. “How do I…?”

Garcia laughs and tells you what to click to pull up the information she needs. You recite it to her and she quickly works her magic.

“Oh, no.”

“Garcia,” you reply warily. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Morgan hears you and comes into the living room. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” you glance at him. “Garcia, what is it?”

“I’m going to need a minute to go through everything but…”

“Garcia, spit it out,” you put her on speaker, lowering the volume so only you and Morgan can hear her. “Garcia?”

“I don’t know for sure, but at first glance, this looks…it looks like she wanted to go with this person.”

“Shit,” you mutter. “Okay. We’ll call Hotch, you keep digging.”

“Aye, aye.”

You turn the computer off and pocket your phone. “We need to go back to the precinct. I don’t want to risk her overhearing.”

“Okay. Good call.”

“I’m gonna let her know we’re leaving,” you say. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

You wake Mrs. Monroe briefly to let her know you and Agent Morgan are leaving. You assure her that you’re going to bring Lila home, but that you’re needed at the precinct right now, and don’t want to disturb her rest. You hand her your card, telling her the number is the same, even though it doesn’t have BAU yet on it. 

Morgan is leaning against the car when you emerge outside, sick to your stomach.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “Just hate lying to mothers.”

+++

You and Morgan decide to wait until you’re at the precinct to tell everyone what Garcia found. Better to break this news quietly in person than on the phone.

Hotch is speaking to a deputy when you walk in, but you flag him down with a nod, hoping he won’t take it personally. You’re too on edge right now to bother being irritated with him.

Once everyone is in the conference room, you shut the door.

“Garcia should be calling any minute,” you begin. “She’s going through Mrs. Monroe’s computer. Mrs. Monroe said she watches everything Lila does, but clearly not close enough, because Lila was on a popular chatting site talking with someone regularly.”

“Right she was,” Garcia joins in, having been listening on the nearby computer. Her smile is sad. “And it does not look good. I’m still digging, but a Rich34 was in constant contact with her. I’m talking every single night for hours. Mostly from 1am to 4am, while I’m assuming her mother was sleeping.”

“What do the chats say, Garcia?” Emily asks.

“Nothing more than small talk right now, but I’m digging. It’ll take a while though, sir, I’m afraid they’ve been talking for months. Almost a year, I think.”

“Dammit,” you mutter. “I was afraid of that.”

Morgan sends you a sympathetic look.

“Garcia, see if you can track Rich’s identity in any way possible. It could be her father,” Hotch says.

“Or someone posing as her father,” you suggest, earning a glare from Hotch.

“Hey Garcia, send over all the chats, I can help you look through them,” Spencer offers.

“Alright kiddo, PG out.” The line clicks.

“Reid, look for anything relating to Richard Monroe’s history, or maybe Lila’s mother. Lila and her mother haven’t been getting along, and Rich might’ve used that to get Lila away,” Hotch instructs. 

Reid nods, already leaning over to grab the chat messages off the fax machine. Garcia knows him so well; she sent over hardcopies instead of electronic.

“Do we think it’s Richard Monroe in the chat room?” Emily asks.

“I’m not convinced,” Rossi says with a small shake of his head.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “The username is too obvious.”

“He could be taunting us by using an obvious screen name,” Hotch counters. “He’s evaded us for this long. Why would he bother hiding now?”

“Yes, but I don’t think Richard Monroe is behind this,” you argue. “Murder in cold blood is his thing. So why wouldn’t he just go grab her from the house? Why is he playing the long game like this? Why form this emotional connection if he’s just going to kill her?”

“Because he’s a murderer with no regard for anyone’s emotions other than his own,” Hotch fires back. “And because he likely holds a grudge against his ex-wife for divorcing him and taking Lila away.”

Now all eyes of the team are on the two of you, going back and forth like a tennis match.

“He murders women his own age. Lila is barely thirteen. If he wanted her so badly, he could have easily grabbed her by now and killed her. Why wait almost a year?”

“Her mother is watching her closely, and he—”

“Oh now you agree that her mother is overbearing.”

“Yes, because you met with her and confirmed it with actual evidence,” Hotch snaps. He pauses, staring at you. “We cannot rule out Richard Monroe.”

“We’ll be wasting our time if we don’t.”

“Why are you so insistent?”

“Call it a gut feeling.”

“You haven’t been doing this job long enough to have a trustworthy gut feeling,” Hotch says coldly. “Now, if you want to continue arguing, I suggest you do so with the wall. Otherwise, we have a young girl to find and her father is a priority suspect. Am I clear?”

“As river water,” you mutter. “Excuse me.” You push past your new boss, hating that he’s already gotten so deep under your skin. Again.

[ohmystaxk]

For there is beauty | Chapter One: What is science, if not risks?

[MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

Tags/Warnings: Time Travel, Jayce is a Sweetheart, Jayce and Reader are childhood friends, Idiots in Love, Reader has a backstory, Undercity!Reader, Cait is Jayce and Reader's little sister, Protective Jayce, Jayce's Love Language is Physical Touch, Mutual Pining, Viktor-centric, Sassy Viktor, Viktor Needs a Hug, Viktor has a crush on Reader, Accidental Fake Dating, Miscommunication, Slow Burn Jayce/Reader/Viktor, Eventual Jayce/Viktor, Reader is greedy, Smut, Slow Romance, Romance, Canon Related, Possible AU timelines, Fluff, Angst, Reader has parents, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read

Summary: Life was simple. You woke up each morning, and walked the streets of Piltover with Jayce by your side, joking and laughing while Cait could only roll her eyes at the two of you. You worked hard on your research and studied double as much at the Academy to prove your worth. Each day was the same, but that was until you crossed paths with Professor Heimerdinger's assistant at the library one day. His name escaped you, but that never stopped your curiosity for the man. Viktor, he said his name was. And you left the library with that, not expecting to cross paths with him again.

It was then the nightmares began, dreadful glimpses of a world you wish to never exist. A world empty of life, happiness, and freedom. But they were only that, nightmares, nothing more. So why did they feel so vivid? So real, and tangible?

N/A: hello everyone! just like everyone else, I folded and started writing for arcane. I have only watched the show, so my knowledge is ONLY from it! english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes you might encounter along the way.

I currently have 3 chapters written for the fic and I cannot wait to show them to all of you!

I have created playlists that I encourage you to listen to while reading (spotify, yt music and apple music) this fic!

spotify yt music apple music

I will also be uploading this to my ao3: @ohmystaxk

Track List: 1.Breakfast with Lou 2.Bewitched 3.Cinnamon Girl

The warmth was the first thing you noticed, something almost comforting. You let out a breath you were not aware you were holding in the first place. The blood in your body rose to your head as something touched your forehead; that same warmth now replaced your blood, running down every vein, clinging to each cell. It was becoming one with you.

“We were always one .” A voice, distorted and unfamiliar, spoke.

Your heart is empty of blood, only pumping warmth. Your chest is heavy, your lungs chasing for that last bit of air.

“Do not be afraid.” The touch on your forehead shifted to your cheek. “I am right here with you.”

You wanted to open your eyes, look around, and find where that voice originated. You tried to turn your head around, but the touch on your cheek moved to your chin, holding your face in place. Even when the touch was demanding, you did not feel threatened.

“Soon, you will see. ” The voice was different, almost that of a woman. “Truly see what has been hiding underneath. It is time for you to go back. ”

Your body suddenly regained its bearings, jolting you awake as you gasped. The morning light blinded you, forcing your eyes to close once again. Your heart beating worryingly fast, your head felt heavy, and your body tingled. The sound of faraway voices made your head snap towards it, your brows furrowed as footsteps crept closer your way. Then a knock came from the door of your bedroom.

“Are you awake? Did you stay up too late again?”

When you recognized the voice, you pushed the comforter away and stood up from your bed. Your head spun, and your vision went blurry. Suddenly, your knees hit the floor.

Your door flew open.

“Hey, what's wrong?” A pair of hands touched you, one on your back and the other on your forearm. “What happened?”

You grabbed your head with one hand, frowning from the buzzing feeling.

“I don’t think I’m feeling too good right now, Jayce.” Looking up to meet his eyes, you only saw worry in them.

“Yeah, no kidding.” He scoffed awkwardly.

He moved his hand on your arm towards your elbow while the other took your waist.

With some effort, he helped you stand up, walking you back to your bed.

“How did you get in?” You asked once you sat back down at the edge of the mattress.

“I remembered where you keep the spare key.” Jayce stood in front of you, his eyes looking around your room.

“Is everything alright?” You heard a voice coming from somewhere in your apartment.

“Did you bring Cait here with you?” You asked the man with a whisper, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah, she wanted to come over to the workshop again.” Jayce crouched, amber eyes taking in your features. “Cait!” He called out to the girl.

“Yes?” She answered quickly, a bit of a tremble in her voice.

“Could you bring me a glass of water, please?”

“Oh...Yes!” You then hear the girl walk to what you knew to be your kitchen.

“Hey.” You looked back at Jayce, not realizing you had started to space out. “What are you feeling? Do you need us to take you to a clinic?”

“No-. Just…I’m just a bit dizzy, that’s all.”

Caitlyn entered the room, glass of water in hand as she eyed you. It was a similar look to the one Jayce was giving you.

“Thanks, Cait.” Jayce looked over his shoulder, and the girl walked over and handed him the glass.

“Are you alright?” She hugged herself, head tilted to the side.

“I will be, just a minute.” You sighed, bringing your hand to your temple.

“Here.” Jayce gently handed you the glass, keeping his hand on yours. “I still think we should take you to a clinic.”

“You look pale.” Cait pointed out, leaning against the small dresser in your room.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you finally took the glass and drank from it.

“Did you feel like this last night?” Jayce held the glass for you once you finished the water.

“No. I felt fine. I think…” Your mind wonders about your strange dream, and how it made you feel.

“What is it?” Jayce leaned closer, tilting his head to catch your gaze.

“I had a strange dream. It startled me. I felt just like I did now; I was dreading something.”

“What was it?” Cait asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

“I don’t know, my eyes were closed the entire time. I just heard a voice.”

Jayce frowned. He placed a gentle hand on your knee before he stood up.

“I think I will take Cait back to her house. I’ll come back with something for you to eat-.”

“No, I’m already feeling better, Jayce.” You stood up, your legs giving you the support you needed.

“You don’t have to exert yourself.”

“I’m not.” You looked at the man with a smile. ���Besides, Cait and I know you will barely get things done if I’m not there to help.”

You gave his arm a quick squeeze. Then you walked towards your closet, opened it, and heard Jayce take a few steps.

“We can work on it once you feel better.”

“I feel better, Jayce.” You looked over your shoulder. The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to change and then we can head out.”

“Just-...Yell if you need anything.” He stepped back, then turned around, heading to the door. “Come on, Cait.”

The two of them walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

You let out a heavy sigh, your hands going to your face. It was true that you were not feeling great, but you were feeling better than before. You stayed up late the night before, reviewing notes from Jayce's project, while also studying for your research paper. You had also forgotten to eat anything, perhaps that had affected you now.

Walking through the streets of Piltover alongside Jayce and Cait had become a bit of a routine for the three of you. Since Counsellor Kiramman had acquired the lab for Jayce, Caitlyn had started tagging along. Especially after she heard about your and Jayce’s projects. Cait was curious, always wanting to help the two of you with whatever was necessary. 

She seemed to enjoy watching you correct Jayce’s work, or talk to her about engineering and the theories for your research paper. It was funny really; two people in their twenties hanging out with a teenager, who they saw like a little sister. The truth was, Caitlyn, reminded you a lot of Jayce all those years ago. 

You opened the front door of your home, sunset had started to set by the time you arrived. You took off your bag and let it fall by the entrance, voices came from the kitchen, and you looked up to find your mother seated on the dining table, a woman across from her as the two laughed. Your mother’s gaze fell on you, a bright smile on her face as she widened her eyes.

“There you are! How was school, baby?” She stood up and gently placed the mug she had in hand on the table. “Come here, I want you to meet someone.”

You slowly approached the table, the other woman turned on her chair, and she smiled once she saw you. Her hair was a dark brown, almost black. Her eyes were light brown and she had a pretty mole next to her right eye.

“Oh, isn’t she adorable?” The woman said. Your mother met you halfway, placing a hand on your shoulder and the other between your shoulder blades, nudging you towards her.

“Say hi, baby.” Your mother brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hello,” Your voice was small, just above a whisper. You played with your hands.

“Hello, your mother was just telling me about you. I’m Ximena, a friend.” She extended her hand to you, and with a trembling hand, you took it. “Oh, you are a bit shy. Please don’t be.”

“Ximena is a friend of your dad and me. She has a son your age, and we wanted the two of you to get to know each other.” Your mother explained with a smile. “Now, take a sit while I serve you dinner, you must be hungry by now.”

Your mother gently directed you towards the table, you took a seat and watched Ximena as she adjusted herself on her chair.

“Oh yes, my boy should be here any minute now. I believe the two of you go to the same school, but he is a year older than you, sweetheart.” At that you frowned, wondering who her son was out of all the boys in your school.

“Okay.” That was the only thing you could reply with. Under the table you kept playing with your hands, your nails picking at the skin.

“You didn’t tell me how school was? Did the professor grade the painting yet?” Your mother asked, your nails dug deeper into the flesh.

“I-it was okay. She liked it.”

“I’m glad she did! I told Ximena how hard you have been working on the art project.” You bit your lip, your vision blurring as you picked even more at the skin.

A knock came from the front door. Ximena stood up from her chair, fixing her skirt as she walked to the door.

“Must be my boy.” She said, you did not look up, your eyes focused on the markings on the table.

The door opened, and you tuned out the voices, your lips quivering as your vision became blurry. Your heart was heavy on your chest, and the next thing you knew, you heard your mother call your name.

In front of you was a boy, and his honey eyes were so bright and shiny. He smiled at you, a tooth gap on his front teeth. But his smile failed him, his brows furrowing as he looked at you.

“Sweetheart,” It was Ximena who spoke. “Are you alright?” You could hear the worry in her voice as you quickly stood up and ran to your room.

You shut the door behind you, falling face-first on the mattress as you started sobbing into the pillow. The door opened and you felt the weight shift the mattress someone sat down next to you.“What’s wrong?” Your mother brushed your hair away from your face. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head, sobbing even more. Your mother ran her fingers through your hair, traveling down to soothe your back.

“You know you can tell me anything, baby.”

“T-they they ri-pped the paint-ing.” You struggled in between sobs. Your mother immediately pulled you closer to her, hugging you tightly.

“Who did?” Your mother spoke at the top of your head.

“T-hey said I w-was an Under-city r-rat.” You cried even harder into the crook of your mother’s neck.

After your mother calmed you down and assured you the kids were wrong, she left you in your room to get you food. You lay in your bed, curled up as you traced the patterns on the wall.

“Did you paint those?” You quickly sat up on your bed, your head snapping to the door, standing there was Ximena’s son. His gaze was on one of the paintings on one of the walls of your room.

“M-my mom and me.” You replied, and your voice came out hoarse and small.

“And this one?” He pointed at another one, you now were by the edge of the bed, your legs barely touching the floor.

“Me.” When you said that, he turned to face you. Your face was puffed up, your eyes red from crying.

“I like it.” He said, and the boy walked up to you, he sat down on the bed next to you. “My name is Jayce.” You told him your name, and he smiled at you. “You have a pretty name.”

It was later you two shared your curiosity for science and inventions. You two finally found things in common; Magic, science, art, and literature. It was those moments that had led to your friendship of twelve years .

“Like I said, I was reviewing my notes.” You rolled your eyes. Jayce walked right beside you, your shoulders brushing.

“And are you sure to went straight to bed?” He leaned down a bit, wanting to see your face as you held the strap of your bag tightly. “Did you eat anything?”

“Well-.”

“I knew it!” He snapped his fingers, pointing forward as you tilted your head away with a sigh, closing your eyes. “I told you we could stop by and get some dinner.”

“I wasn’t hungry…” You looked at him.

Jayce’s hair was neatly styled. You could smell his aftershave as he leaned over, his arm reaching your right shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“Aren’t you the one always reminding me to eat? Especially when I don’t want to.”

“You do always remind him.” Cait shimmed in. When you look to your right to narrow your eyes at her, she simply shrugs.

“Thanks, Cait.” Jayce now wrapped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you even closer. “Which is why we are grabbing a bite before we head to the studio.” You threw your head back.

“I need to stop by the library first.” You glanced up at Jayce, his amber eyes narrowing. “Just remembered that I need to get some books.”

“Right now?” He asked with a pointed look.

“Might as well, the library is right across.” You pointed with your eyes at the massive building across the street.

Jayce slowed down his steps, making you slow down as well.

“Your research paper?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You gave his chest a quick pat and pulled back a bit, his arm sliding over your back before he too pulled away. “I still need to finish the draft before I can start working on the actual paper.”

You adjusted the weight of your bag.

“Think you feel better to head on your own?” Jayce scratched his head, eying you as you laughed.

“Don’t worry, if I need a big strong man to help me, I’m sure I can find one there.” You slapped his arm with the back of your hand. Jayce rolled his eyes, scoffing at the comment. “I won’t stay long, how about you start heading over and grab me something to eat? I’ll see you two in a few.”

“You want the same thing from yesterday?” He asked as you were already starting to walk away.

“Sure, sounds good. Cait, keep an eye on this one, don’t let him wander off with strange women.” You smiled at the girl, and Cait simply laughed with a nod.

“I-. I don’t wander off!” He called out once you started crossing the street.

“Didn’t hear you deny the last part though!” You laughed as you ran, holding your bag tightly.

The Piltover library was massive, with three floors and an impressive collection, even containing two extra lower levels for more restricted books and archives. You immediately went to the second floor, walking past tall bookshelves. The sunlight was casting different colors due to the stained glass from the windows. Then you took a turn, finding the section you were looking for. You stopped when you saw that someone was standing at the other end. He had brown hair and a strong nose, his focus deep in a book. The man leaned on a cane, the light filtering from the stained glass casting a yellow glow on him.

With a thud, he closed the book he was reading. He placed the book back on the shelf, his eyes looking at the spines. You recognized him as Professor Heimerdinger's apprentice; his name escaped you. 

You fixed your bag, and you focused on the book titles closest to you, trying to see if you could find what you were looking for. But with every two books you looked at, your eyes could not help but glance towards him.

You had always seen him around the academy, always on his own. Whenever you saw him, he would be reading a book or writing something down in his notebook. You had asked about him out of curiosity a good number of times to other students, they also seemed to barely know anything about him. Then there were a couple that mentioned how his mysteriousness was rather, attractive. But the only thing that everyone seemed to agree on was that he was… gifted . He had to be if he had caught the attention of the Dean.

Without knowing, you were already standing shoulder to shoulder next to him. You accidentally bumped into him.

“I’m sorry!” You immediately uttered, your eyebrows shooting up and your face burning hot. “I was distracted.”

He already had another book in hand. He looked your way, seemingly also surprised. His eyes scanned you, falling on your eyes before he spoke.

“No need to worry.” He said with an accent you didn’t quite recognize, it sounded nice. “I didn’t see you.” It suits him.

The man took a step to the side to create some distance between the two of you.

“Sorry.” You said more quietly, your eyes glancing back and forth between him and the shelves.

As you tried your best to compose yourself, your eyes caught sight of a book you were looking for. You looked at him, making sure you were not in his way, and reached for it.

“Excuse me, going to grab this.” You called out. 

You needed to finish the research paper, three months had gone by so fast that trying to meet the deadline felt almost impossible.

Once you picked it up, you noticed a few more and quickly grabbed them. You stepped back with your stack of books and turned around, heading back to the main hall. 

That was until you heard his cane and feet shift.

“Those are about Astrophysics.” The man suddenly spoke again. Your eyes widened as you stood in place. “Is it curiosity or for research?”

 You looked over your shoulder, your eyes meeting with his bright amber eyes; they were similar to Jayce’s, but perhaps they were a bit lighter.

“B-both.” You were caught off guard. After many years and countless times of seeing him around the Academy; this was the first time you had interacted with him.

“Um.��� He gave a quick nod. His eyes shifted towards your books before meeting your gaze once more.

“It’s research. For my final.” You fixed your posture, your body turning to face his.

“I have…seen you before, in the academy.” He stated, shifting his weight on the cane more comfortably.

“Yes, I’m part of the Engineering department.” You put the weight of the books on your hip. “Or I was. I was part of Professor Heimendinger’s lecture last summer.”

“Oh.” He’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “I remember now. You sat close to the middle row.”

You remembered when you and Jayce had arrived at the lecture for the first time. How excited he was, talking your ear off as the two of you sat down. You remembered how dark the auditorium always was, except for the chalkboard and the podium the Professor stood. It became a habit to always sit in the same spot, not out of preference, but it just did. Sometimes whenever someone decided to take those two spots, you and Jayce would jokingly say things like ‘ The audacity. ’ or ‘ We should start carving our names on the desk at this point. ’

It was then you remember seeing the assistant in the corner of the room many times, almost like he was hiding in the shadows. You would meet his eyes on occasion, even in the dark you were always impressed by how bright his eyes seemed to shine.

“Yes.” You let out a chuckle. Your eyebrows furrowing. How did he remember that? “And you are the Professor’s assistant.”

His eyes fell on your hips, taking note of your posture. “I am, yes.”

“How did you get the offer?” You fixed the hold on the books. “That’s a very big opportunity.”

“My charms I believe.” He shrugged. You smiled as you let out a laugh.

“Oh yes, those are very important.” You took a step forward. “Every inventor needs them.”

“Not everyone has those.” He grinned as he placed back the book he was holding on the shelf.

“Do I?” You played along.

He stopped his hand, his fingertips brushing the spine of the book. He raised an eyebrow, amber eyes staring at yours with curiosity.

“Um.” He eyed you. “What is it that intrigues you the most? Astrophysics or Engineering?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. What a charmer , you thought.

“Why not both?” You tilted your head to the side with a grin.

He nodded with a smile. You noticed the moles adorning his cheek and upper lip.

“Well, what is it about Astrophysics that made you want to pursue it?”

“The many unanswered questions space holds from us; about gravity, the sun, and the moon. But I didn’t get into Astrophysics for that only. I am searching for something more, something out there in the universe.”

“Which is?” He took a step forward.

“Magic.” You answered breathlessly. “Time, space, the possibility of actions and consequences. What other possibilities those could have led to.”

“Time travel.” He answered, his eyes widen a fraction.

“Multiple timelines possibly coexisting within the same plane. I believe the Arcane is capable of that.”

He looked at you, his eyes shifting between yours and the books still resting on your hip.

“The Arcane is wild magic…not something science could master.”

“You’re right, but I believe science could help us understand magic.” You started talking with your hand. “I’m not thinking of bending the Arcane to science’s will. But I wish to find an understanding.”

The two of you stood there in silence. The noise of people speaking and walking around soothing your nerves. It had been your dream that had connected you with Jayce, the mutual understanding of what magic could do and the wonders it held.

“Those types of ideas could get you expelled from the Academy.” If he had spoken those words with a serious tone, it would have scared you. Instead, he still held curiosity in his eyes. “But what is science, if not risks?”

You let out a breath you did not know you were holding in. You frowned.

“Are you going to tell the Professor?” You watched him soften his eyes.

“I’m his assistant, not his whisperer.” He grinned and you could not help but let out a nervous laugh.

“I have to go…” You held his gaze. “It was nice to finally talk to you.”

“Likewise.” He smiled at you. You felt your cheeks suddenly heat up. “You have a great mind.”

“Thank you…” You were going to say his name when you realized you could not remember it. 

“Vik tor .” You felt a sudden touch in the back of your head. Your eyes narrowed for a second, you could’ve sworn you heard his voice change. “You can call me Viktor.”

“T-Thank you, Viktor.” You gave him your name, taking a step back as you slowly started retreating. “I will go now.”

You turned around and started heading to the hall. Your heart started beating fast once more. Perhaps, you were still having side effects. Or the Academy was making you begin to lose your mind.

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[nagaytoe]

Nativitas Domini

(noun) [Latin] Lord's birth

Jericho Ichabod X Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Requests: open

Note: Me writing something that's not Sol X Reader?! And it's fluff on top of that?! (I have actually never written fluff before if i recall correctly)

Unbelievable... Enjoy this Christmas special though, y'all (even though it's a tad bit late but better late than never, am I right?) and apologies for not having posted any one shot in three weeks (I was in a bad writing slump)

I initially wanted to make this another angst but I was too in love with the fluff, I couldn't bring myself to destroy that...

“My Love, wake up.”

A soft voice woke you from your deep slumber. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the remnants of sleep still clearly visible in your gaze.

“Crowe?”

You opened your eyes fully to reveal your lover's silhouette in front of the window, shielding your eyes from direct sunlight.

“Have you slept well?” Crowe brushed your hair out of your face and behind your ear. His gaze was full of love and admiration, as if you were the most precious gem, the most beautiful being he has ever laid eyes on. You hummed in quiet agreement and he chuckled.

“That’s good, that’s good. We still have quite some things planned for today, remember?”

You pondered for a moment, gathering your thoughts, since your mind was still foggy from sleep. Another quiet chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts as a hand was placed on the top of your head, ruffling your hair.

“We wanted to go shopping for presents, then bake some cookies and then go to Jess’ and Brittney's place to celebrate with the others. It’s already 10 am, it might be better if we get started soon.”

You slowly sat up on the bed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and yawning.

“I already made breakfast, the only missing piece at the table is you.” Crowe stretched out his hand towards you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. You looked at him for a moment, unable to believe that he is actually here with you, by your side. Taking his hand and nodding, Crowe helped you get out of the bed and the two of you walked towards the kitchen together.

The smell of pancakes and orange juice invaded your senses and you soon saw what Crowe had prepared for you. The table was set for two people, in the middle of the round surface was a plate, soft and thick pancakes stacked on top of it. Next to it was a juice pitcher, filled with your favorite juice. However, these weren't the only things on the table. A big bouquet with the most colorful flowers was placed next to your plate and cutlery.

You let out a soft gasp, looking over at Crowe with a wide smile, your eyes glistening.

“Crowe…they are beautiful…”

Walking up behind you and wrapping his arm around your waist, Crowe pressed a kiss on the crown of your hair. “They are no match for you though…”

You giggled softly in response and leant into Crowe's embrace.

“I love them, Crowe, thank you so much…”

The bouquet truly was beautiful. Purple calla lilies, white baby’s breaths and blue agapanthuses. The colors reminded you of Crowe, with his blue eyes and usual purple attire.

Crowe pulled your chair back, gesturing for you to sit down. Right after you sat down he moved around the table, sitting down in front of you. You loved mornings like these, even when the sun was absent they were filled with warmth. It was domestic. It was real. Sometimes you couldn't quite believe your luck. How were you fortunate enough to end up with someone like Jericho?

“[____]?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by your lover's voice. Looking up, you saw him smiling at you with admiration and a hint of amusement in his eyes. His arm was propped up on the table, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand.

“What are you thinking about, Love?”

A warm feeling spread through your chest. You were still crushing on him as hard as on the first day. His words, his voice, his personality, his looks… Everything about him was perfect.

“I'm just… thinking about how lucky I am to be with you.”

A swift look of surprise brushed over Crowe's features before he smiled brighter than before. He reached over the table, taking your hand into his bigger, warmer one. “I am the lucky one, my Starlight.”

Swooning at his words, you realized that he had pretty much ruined you for everyone else, Crowe had you on the hook. You doubted that you could ever love someone like you loved him, but then again, you didn't plan to either.

You gave him a sweet smile and he let go of your hand after a few beats, gesturing for you to fill your plate with the pancakes he had prepared. He did this pretty often, surprising you with self-made breakfast, yet you fell head over heels for him over and over again, no matter how often he did it.

Reaching over with knife and fork, you took two pancakes off the pile, filling your plate with them. As soon as you took a bite you perked up. “Crowe, they taste amazing, did you change the recipe up?”

The pancakes were fluffy and sweet, even sweeter than usually. “Just a tad bit. I know that you have kind of a sweet tooth, so I added a bit more sugar.”

You weren't sure what was sweeter, your boyfriend or the sugar he added.

He was probably sweeter, even though he didn't have much of a sweet tooth himself. That brought up another question, however.

“What about you though? You aren't that fond of too much sugar.”

“I can handle a bit more sweetness in my pancakes. After all, I handle you everyday and you are by far sweeter than any pancake I could ever make.”

You had to suppress a grin at that. He could be so cheesy sometimes.

Time seemed to pass way too fast, it felt like the two of you finished breakfast in no time.

“I'll clean up, you can get ready in the meantime, Darling” Crowe took his and your plate and brought them to the kitchen sink. Thanking him, you stood up and you made your way to your shared bedroom to get dressed. You took a look out the window, snow was painting the world in a pure, innocent shade of white and created a calm, serene image. Perhaps Crowe and you can build a snowman later if you have enough time.

Walking up to the closet, you were pondering on what to wear. Crowe was wearing a purple sweater and black slacks, perhaps you could put on a matching outfit. After all, he loved when the two of you wore matching outfits.

You took a pair of black pants out of your closet, before looking for a purple sweater. You had one, albeit the color being a bit lighter, it would have to do.

The colors purple and blue had a special spot in your heart, every time you saw them, you were reminded of Crowe.

He was everywhere, his essence in everything.

The night sky, the ocean, the flowers in your garden during the warmer seasons and the bouquet he gave you this morning, even in your closet you found these colors more present than before.

You walked into the narrow hallway, painted dark red with a birch wood floor, to see Crowe was already putting on his shoes, sitting on the bench near the door. As soon as he was finished and laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I feel like I have seen that outfit before somewhere…” He walked up to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest. “I love you so much, you know that?” He leant down to press a kiss to your forehead, before wrapping both arms around you in a loving embrace. “I love you too, Jericho… More than words can ever describe…”

Crowe pulled back to look at you and raised his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking over the soft skin. Before you met him, you didn't know that it was humanly possible to look at someone the way he looked at you, but he proved to you that it indeed was possible and even if it wasn't, he would make it possible.

His bright blue eyes were filled with so much love, you couldn't begin to comprehend just how much love he felt for you.

Your face was gently pulled closer to his by the hand holding your cheek, his own face moving closer at the same time, before your lips met in a sweet kiss. It was an attempt at expressing your feelings for each other, but this universal act of love could only scratch the surface of what truly laid beneath your exteriors. Beneath all that skin, bone and flesh laid a love so profound, it almost made your hearts burst.

Crowe pulled back eventually, but you didn't leave his embrace without him planting another kiss on your forehead. He turned to take your black coat off the hanger and helped you put it on in his usual gentleman-like fashion. While he was looking for something in the hallway's dresser you were putting on your boots. The coat you were currently wearing matched his perfectly well, only your boots weren't matching - his being dark brown and yours being black - but you weren't going to nit-pick every small detail. Crowe stood in front of you again, a purple scarf in his hands. “It's cold outside, my Love, you'll need this.” His voice was as soft and caring as always, while he gently wrapped the scarf around your neck.

Opening the front door, Crowe gestured for you to walk outside before him. He followed close behind, taking your hand in his as he left the house with you and closed the door behind him. As you made your way towards the shopping center, the snow crunched under your boots, accentuating every step.

Despite the thick clothes you were wearing, which engulfed you in a comfortable warmth, the cool december breeze made you shiver. The coldness was slowly biting away at your skin and you tried your best to bury your face in your scarf, though it didn’t help with warming your face as much as you had hoped. Crowe squeezed your hand at this, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry, my Love, we'll be there in no time.”

The walk to the shopping center was peaceful, you walked by multiple groups of children who were building a snowman or having snowball fights. Looking around, you found everything to be covered in thick, white snow, giving the usually dull surroundings an almost magical feeling. It might be cold right now, but at least it was beautiful outside.

The mall wasn’t too far either, luckily. In this type of weather it was going to take around fifteen minutes to reach it, which felt like fifteen seconds in Crowe’s presence. That was one of the many things you loved about him. Any task, any situation, no matter how daunting or boring they may be, they seemed way easier to conquer with Crowe by your side.

The mall was bustling with life, chatter and laughter everywhere. Christmas tunes played from every corner and matching decorations were hung up everywhere. However, the highlight was the 30 feet tall christmas tree in the middle of the mall, cladded with different types of ornaments, ranging from fairy lights and tinsel to brightly colored baubles and little angels hanging from the branches.

“Whose present should we get first?”

You pondered for a moment at Crowe's question, “Jess. I already have something for her.”

Crowe quirked his eyebrow at that. “Lead the way then.”

You tugged Crowe along with you, leading him to a record store. “You know how Jess is absolutely obsessed with Eries, right?”, You looked up at him, feeling a little silly for asking this as you realized that he obviously knows, since he was the one who told you that information in the first place, “Of course you do…Anyways, I was thinking about getting her a vinyl record.”

“Does she even have a record player?”

You shook your head, “Nope, but knowing her, she wouldn’t play the record anyways, however, she would hang it up on the wall for everyone to see, just like her other prized possessions.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t have it already though? She’s one of his biggest fans after all, I kind of doubt that she doesn’t have all his merchandise by now.” Crowe’s question was a valid one, you haven’t told him that piece of information yet, since it was more of an impulsive decision. “I know that she doesn’t have it, she told me herself. See, we were talking about this special edition record of Eries newest album coming out and when the presale was happening, she didn’t manage to get a copy. I, however, did.”

Crowe furrowed his eyebrows at your explanation, still not getting the full picture, “Why did you try to obtain a copy in the first place? As far as I know, you’re not one of his fangirls.”

“Well, I thought it would make a nice present if she didn’t manage to get a copy. And if she had managed to get a copy I would have given it to another friend of mine, who likes Eries as well, but isn’t big enough of a fan to buy limited edition stuff.”

“You had a full-on masterplan, huh?”

You nodded eagerly at his reply, “All that’s left to do is to pick up the copy from the record shop.”

Tugging your boyfriend through the crowd, you weasel your way towards the record store. As soon as you arrived you were met with seemingly endless rows of shelves, packed to the brim with colorful records and the speakers faintly playing a Christmas song.

“By the way, how much was that record?”

You gave Crowe a side-eye, before averting your gaze as you walked towards the register. “Way too much…”, you muttered under your breath before clearing your throat. “But Jess is an amazing friend…I’m sure she’ll love this present!”

Crowe shook his head in disbelief with an airy laugh, “I’m sure she will, but I would still like to know how much that record was, you know? After all, we did agree on splitting the costs for the presents in half.”

You mumbled a response under your breath, incoherent to Crowe’s ears. When he asked again, your response was still quiet, but he heard your answer at last, “Sixty-five bucks…”

Crowe’s bright blue eyes widened a little in surprise, which is why you decided to quickly reassure him, “I know it’s a lot, that’s why the record will be on me, you don’t have to pay half the price-”

“Nonsense, I’ll pay half the price, just like we agreed, don’t worry about it, my Love” He cut you off, holding his hand up in the air to stop your rambling. You gave him a soft smile, your face a little flushed as you muttered a small “Thank you”, fully aware that debating with him on this matter will get you nowhere.

After informing the employee at the register about the order you wanted to pick up, he went to the back and swiftly returned with it, handing the record to you with a sweet smile.

Crowe wrapped his arm around your waist, an innocent gesture, though a hint of jealousy laced it. You were his partner after all, he should -and would- let the whole world know how lucky he got, even if this poor employee probably didn’t have any ulterior motives behind his smile and wave good-bye.

“How about we get Brittney’s present next?” Crowe asked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as the two of you made your way out of the record store. You nodded, thinking back to all the times Brit told you something related to her interests.

“Do you already have something in mind?”, Crowe asked as he scanned your contemplating expression. You slowly nodded, “Yeah… she mentioned something about this skin care set she thought about getting. It’s a bit pricey, though…”

Crowe smiled softly at you, letting go of your hand and stroking the back of your head softly. “Don’t worry about it, my Love. If something is out of your budget I don’t mind paying more than half the price or entirely for the present.”

Your head snapped towards him as you immediately protested, “No way in hell am I gonna let you pay for everything yourself, that wouldn’t be fair at all!”

Your boyfriend could only chuckle in response, shaking his head lightly, “Whatever you say, Love…”

The two of you made your way towards the mall’s beauty store, Crowe’s hand tightly holding your own, almost as if he was afraid you would be swept away by the crowd of people present. It didn’t take long for you to find the skin care set Brittney told you about, despite the shelves being lined with all kinds of beauty products, ranging from perfume to high-end makeup products. Albeit the fairly high price the set was almost sold out and you barely managed to grab one of the last boxes.

The store was filled to the brim with teenage girls and husbands with their wives, all of them trying to find last minute presents for their loved ones. Thus, Crowe and you had to wait quite some time at the register, however, time always seemed to pass in the blink of an eye whenever he was with you.

“By the way, what should we get Deryl?”

You looked up at Crowe, waiting for a response as he pondered for a moment.

“Well, he loves football and sweets… though I believe you know as much about football as I do, which is practically nothing at all.”, Crowe chuckled slightly and of course he was right, both of you barely had any knowledge about football.

“Then sweets it is, we just have to hope that he eats them in private and not at the party, unless we want him bouncing off the walls-” You cut yourself off with a gasp as an idea hit you, “How about one of these international sweets boxes? As far as I know there is a shop here which sells sweets from all around the world. I believe that would make a great present for Deryl!”

Your boyfriend smiled gently at you as he responded, “Great thinking, let’s go there once we’re finished here.”

Crowe and you checked out at the register and made your way towards the sweets store shortly after.

The sweets store was probably the most colorful shop in the entire shopping center, the walls were painted in bright colors and even the tiles on the floor were practically glowing in neon hues. The shelves were lined with all kinds of sweets, all of them wrapped in bright packaging and sorted into different aisles depending on which country they’re from.

“Is there anything specific Deryl likes?” Crowe shook his head in response, thus you took it upon yourself to search for tasty-looking sweets, hooking a shopping basket on your arm.

You were able to fill the basket in no time with all different types of sweets; savory ones, sour ones and just classical sweet ones.

“Those are quite a lot of sweets… it might be better to give him this when we are about to leave…”

You raised an eyebrow at Crowe’s suggestion, “And leave the others with the mess of a Deryl who is high on sugar?”

He smirked smugly at you in reply and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

The two of you wrapped up at the sweets store not long after, walking out with two shopping bags in your right hand, one containing Brittney’s and one Jess’ present, and a big box of sweets for Deryl tucked away under Crowe’s left arm.

“We still need to get a present for Geo, do you have any idea what we could get him? It’s not like that guy is an open book when it comes to anything regarding him personally…”

“I already have something in mind for Geo, don’t worry.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise at Crowe’s declaration.

“Follow me.”, He took your free hand in his, making his way through the crowd and leading you to the mall’s exit.

Curious as to where Crowe was taking you, you couldn’t help but ask him, “Where are we going, Crowe?”

“To the box office, it’s on the way home anyways.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, but decided not to dwell on it. You would see what Crowe is up to soon enough, since the box office was pretty close to the mall.

As you left the shopping center, the coldness engulfed you in an icy embrace, stinging at your flesh. You immediately missed the comforting warmth of the shopping center, even if the atmosphere was chaotic. The only source of warmth you now had were your thick clothes and the warmth of your boyfriend’s soft hand, but all this didn’t do much to keep you from shivering.

After what felt like an eternity out in the harsh coldness of December, you finally reached the box office.

Crowe leant a little towards the cashier as he spoke his request, “I’d like to buy a gift voucher for 75 dollars, please.”

You lifted your eyebrows up slightly, before nudging him softly with your elbow while the employee was preparing the voucher. “I would have thought that you were gonna give him a present that’s more… personal.” Crowe looked at you for a moment, processing your words.

“Well, he’s not the type to be against vouchers as a gift, in fact, he thinks it’s the best type of present to give to someone; if it’s required to give them something, that is.”

“I guess that makes sense for him… he doesn’t seem like the type to give others personalized presents… or any at all, to be honest…”

Crowe couldn’t help but chuckle at your reply, “Yeah, he finds it to be the most practical type of present and I am not going to disagree with him on that, I get where he’s coming from.”

You nodded in silent agreement as the employee finished wrapping up the voucher, handing it to Crowe, who gave him the required amount of cash in exchange, before bidding goodbye and putting the envelope containing the voucher into one of the bags you were carrying.

“What time is it?”

Crowe took a look at the watch on his wrist, “1 pm. The party starts at 4.30, therefore we still have some time to get everything ready.”

Your boyfriend gave your hand a small squeeze and smiled warmly at you. This was almost enough to make you forget about the crisp cold air surrounding you, emphasis on almost. You were walking at a faster pace than usually, desperate to get home as quickly as possible.

Luckily, you soon saw the row houses on your street, one of them being the one you and Crowe resided in. The two of you moved in together after a year of dating, deeming it safer for the both of you - well, mostly for you. He insisted that you move into the townhouse he rented with him, considering it a safer option than the apartment you previously called your home. Of course, he was right, this part of town was much safer and if something were to happen, he would be there to protect you.

The houses were made of brownstone and not much bigger than your old apartment, though it was still nice to have a bit more space available, not to mention the tiny garden at the back - something your previous home lacked entirely.

Speed-walking towards the dark green front door, you ushered Crowe to unlock the door, who chuckled in response to your antics. What may have been annoying to anyone else, he found endearing. To him, you could hardly do any wrong, you were perfect, perfect for him.

You were greeted by the familiar smell of your home and the comforting warmth it provided. Taking off your boots and coat you turned to face Crowe, “Ready to bake some cookies?”

The kitchen was small, but it was big enough for the two of you. The counter, made of ebony and an oak countertop, formed a U-shape, lining all walls except for the one with the door. A big window overlooking the garden was above the kitchen sink and opposite of the door. Some potted plants hung from the ceiling, giving the room a rural feeling.

You walked to the kitchen cabinet and whipped out every required ingredient and equipment.

“Did you decide on which type of cookies we are baking?” Crowe entered the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing his toned lower arms.

“I was thinking we could bake some good old chocolate chip cookies, how does that sound?”

Crowe cracked a grin at that. Chocolate chips were his favourite and you knew that all too well.

“I’m definitely not opposed to that suggestion.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Of course you are not.”

You ordered Crowe to weigh the ingredients while you took care of mixing everything, the dough soon being finished. The moment you turned your back to grab a scissor for the package of chocolate chunks, Crowe grabbed a spoon from the kitchen drawer and tried some of the cookie dough.

“No snacking on the cookie dough, Crowe.”, you turned around to find your boyfriend frowning at you, causing a little laugh of yours to break free.

“Mind you, I was taste-testing.”

You shook your head at his answer, but at the same time you were endeared. Crowe was usually this composed, mature gentleman, but around you he could unleash a more childish side of him, one he didn’t show anyone else. Coming from him, this was a huge sign of trust, a privilege he didn't grant just anyone.

Right after you mixed the chocolate chunks into the cookie dough, you took small scoops and placed them onto the tray Crowe got ready for you. Once you were finished with placing small piles of dough, your boyfriend took the tray from you and put it in the oven.

“Now that the cookies are in the oven, what should we do in the meantime? Wrap the presents?” Crowe asked while wiping the surface of the countertop with a wet cloth. You pondered for a moment, recalling the children you saw on your way to the mall and pointed towards the window overlooking the garden

“I have a better idea… See all that snow? How about we build a snowman?”

Looking at him, your eyes glistened with hope and he smiled brightly at you, an indescribable amount of love in his gaze.

You definitely were perfect for him.

“Of course we can, Love, but weren’t you the one freezing outside earlier today?”

He just couldn’t help but tease you a little every now and then.

“That was different. I can handle the coldness if it means I get to feel like a kid again.”, you argued, a lop-sided smile gracing your features.

“Touché.”

With a pep in your step you went back into the hallway to grab both of your boots and coats, along with a pair of gloves for each of you. You swiftly returned to the kitchen and walked through the doorway into the living room, straight towards the back door, handing Crowe his clothes, before putting on your own coat and boots.

No five minutes later were the two of you out in the freezing cold. You already got to work, making a little snowball and rolling it around on the ground, your gloves doing very little to keep the snow’s iciness away from your skin, though you couldn’t care less right now.

The garden was small, surrounded by high bushes, which were painted white by the snow just like the ground was. The big apple tree at the very back already lost all its leaves weeks ago and the flowers you usually kept were long gone.

Crowe joined you, rolling his own snowball on the ground and turning to you for a moment, “I take it that you want to be in charge of the big snowball at the bottom?”

Looking over at him with a smile you nod eagerly, earning you his warm signature smile in return.

The two of you kept rolling the snowballs around, which were getting bigger and bigger by the minute, until they finally had a size you were satisfied with. Crowe placed his slightly smaller snowball on your bigger one, going off to find some sticks to use as arms right after while you were busy making the head. Once you were finished and placed the third and smallest snowball on top of the other two, Crowe returned with some sticks and a couple of small rocks.

Handing you the two biggest sticks, you took them and placed one on either side of the snowmans upper body and some smaller branches on the top of his head. You took three small stones out of Crowe’s palm and placed them in a vertical row on the snowman's upper body.

“By the way, do we have a carrot laying around?”

“I think so… let me take a look.” Crowe handed you the rocks and turned around, walking back inside. In the meantime, you took two rocks and placed them where you thought the snowman's eyes might be and used the leftover stones to give the snowman a smile. Crowe eventually returned, a carrot in his hand. “There you go, finish the job.”

You side-eyed him, processing his words, “You’re saying this as if I’m assassinating this poor snowman…”

Your boyfriend chuckled in response as you added the final detail to your snowman.

Suddenly, an alarm went off.

“Ah! The cookies are ready. Just in time…” Crowe turned off the alarm on his phone and took your hand in his as the two of you made your way back inside.

Once back in the kitchen, the two of you took off your boots, coats and gloves. Crowe took out the tray with cookies while you carried the clothes back into the hallway, hanging the coats back on their hangers, placing the boots on the mat next to the front door and the gloves back into the dresser.

The smell of fresh cookies invaded your nostrils and you could feel your mouth watering, causing you to swiftly return to the kitchen.

“It smells so good in here!” You entered the kitchen, causing Crowe to turn away from you quickly, making you stop in your tracks, “Wait… are you eating one of the cookies?”

“...No…” Crowe was trying his best to not sound like he was talking with a full mouth, but failed miserably.

“You are!” You could hear Crowe swallowing before turning back to face you, trying to defend himself, “I had to do a taste test…”

You take one cookie from the tray, studying it a little. Judging by the looks of it, those cookies turned out amazing.

“Firstly, you already did one with the raw cookie dough and secondly, I highly doubt that one was necessary…Though, I might do one as well. You know, two tongues can taste more than one, or something like that.” Putting the cookie in your mouth, you can almost hear your taste buds singing Hallelujah, your eyes widening as you let the warm, sweet taste of chocolate chip melt on your tongue.

“Oh my…these cookies are perfect!”

Crowe nodded in agreement with a grin on his face as he watched your fond expression, before looking at his watch, “It’s 2.20 pm, we have about two hours until the party, any ideas what should we do until then?”

You thought for a moment before a smug smirk crawled onto your face.

“Don’t tell me-”

You cut off your boyfriend, “Let’s watch a Christmas movie!”

“We still need to wrap the presents, my Love” , Crowe pointed out, but you quickly shot down his argument.

“We can do that while watching the movie. It’s not like we have tons of presents to wrap anyways.”

Crowe sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, though more in a playful fashion, before nodding slowly.

“Alright, let’s watch a Christmas movie then.”

You immediately made your way towards the living room, the walls were painted a light blue shade and lined with tons of shelves, the floor was birch wood, just like the hallway. Sitting down on the soft, dark blue couch and grabbing the remote, you made yourself comfortable, nuzzling against one of the couch’s cushions. While you were busy picking out a movie, Crowe grabbed some wrapping paper, as well as the presents for your friends, and carried them towards the living room, setting everything down on the oak coffee table in front of the couch.

He sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer as you put on your favorite christmas movie. You shuffled closer to him, basking in the warmth Crowe radiated, not just emotionally but also physically. No matter how tough times might get, next to him any problem ceased to exist, if only for the moment and you could swear your love for him was growing more and more the longer you were together.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel giddy for tonight, looking forward to spending time with all the people who grew on you so much during your years at university.

Were you to look out the window, you’d catch the snowman smiling at you, the snow which was currently falling from the sky accumulating on his carrot nose.

Everything was perfect, you were exactly where you were always meant to be and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Insecurities ~ Love That Burns

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST / EVERYDAY MOMENTS MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1,870ish

Summary: You and Logan struggle with some insecurities.

Warning(s): talk of sex, non-con elements, mental health issues, ptsd, possibly triggering, please read with caution

Notes: Please share your thoughts! This fic goes with my series, Love That Burns! Please give it a read!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

Logan had the whole week off, putting him in a great mood. That meant a whole week of solely focusing on you in whatever capacity he could. That also meant that he would have a hard time keeping his hands off of you. He woke up first, immediately pulling you closer, and began to press kisses over your open skin.

You moaned as you started to wake. “Logan,” you rasped, keeping your eyes closed.

Logan shushed you, moving to hover over you as he continued to kiss your skin. “Go back to sleep, princess.”

This wasn't the first time Logan has woken you up like this. And a good majority of the time, you were completely fine with it. But there was something different this morning. 

Your past made your mind cruel to you sometimes. It seemed like the anxieties and insecurities were rising once again, ones that you had never told Logan about. Due to what you had to do to survive while you were homeless, sometimes you believed that you were just an object to fulfill men’s sexual needs. Logan never made you feel that way. You always felt special and important, never an object. 

But the mind was cruel, and sometimes you couldn’t stop it. And as you lay, still half asleep, as Logan began to have sex with you, you couldn’t help but feel like an object. You knew that Logan was focusing more on your pleasure than his own, as he generally did, but your mind was making you feel like nothing to him. Like you were not his wife who he loved and cared deeply for, you were an object, something he only used to please himself.

Throughout the day, Logan couldn’t keep his hands, among other things, to himself. You never vocalized your internal struggles, letting Logan use you as to not make him upset. Your mind had you believing that if you vocalized what you were feeling, Logan would leave you. Though, deep down, you knew that was farther from the truth.

“Baby,” Logan smirked as you as you finished making the bed. “Wanna shower?”

Logan reached for you, moving to pull you into him, but you recoiled and took a step back. The moment you recoiled from Logan’s touch, he was on high alert. His brows furrowed as he immediately began noting the way your heart was racing and how he could smell your nervousness. And now that he had smelt it, he realized that he had been smelling it all day.

“Sweetheart–”

“I’m sorry. I’m fine. Let’s go,” your words were clipped and almost in the same breath. You weren’t looking at him as you grabbed his wrist, not even his hand, and began to lead him towards the bathroom. “We can shower together. I’m fine.”

Logan shook free from your weak grip. “You’re not fine. What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, still not looking at him. “You wanted to shower together. Let’s just shower.”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Stop sayin’ that, princess. It’s not fine. If you don’t want to do something, we’re not gonna do it.” Logan’s eyes went wide in realization as tears slipped down your cheeks. “Oh, God… Sweetheart. Did I… Did I push you too far this morning? Did I–” He cut himself off, swallowing down the words he needed to say. “Did you… Did you not want to have sex?”

“I’m sorry,” you collapsed on your knees. 

Logan clenched his hands together, growing angry at himself for not noticing that you didn’t want to have sex this morning and he pushed you. He couldn’t get himself to get on the ground to hold you, not wanting to push you further than he apparently already had. 

“I’m so sorry,” you continued to cry. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. Please, princess. It’s not your fault.” He crouched down in front of you, still keeping his space. “It’s my fault. I should have known.”

“No, I should have told you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I… I… Please know that I know that this isn’t true, but on bad days it slips in and I sometimes fail to not believe it.” Logan stayed silent, waiting for more of your explanation. “Because of my… past… I sometimes fail to remember that you want me for more than just my body… that I’m an actual person to you, not just an object… when I get in that mindset, it’s hard for me to stop you.”

“Is this…” Logan had to stop himself, afraid of his own question. “Is this the first time this has happened?”

“Logan–”

“Answer the question, sweetheart.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you answered. “No.”

Logan growled as he stood up and walked out. You cried harder, curling in on yourself as you couldn’t get yourself to follow after him. Apparently, your mind had been right, the truth would cause Logan to leave you.

But Logan wasn't walking out on you; he was trying to calm himself. He was angry at himself for not making sure you were completely okay with having sex and for ignoring the signs that he had subtly noticed all day. He let out a shout as he punched the wall, allowing his claws to go through it. He needed to calm down so that he could fix this and take care of you.

Suddenly, you appeared in the doorway, a sobbing mess. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “It's all my fault. Please don't leave. Please don't leave!"

Logan’s heart felt like it had been ripped down and crushed into a million pieces. You thought he was leaving you. That would be impossible for him to do. But in your current state, you couldn’t see that. He ripped his hand from the wall, hiding his claws, and took a step forward. Before he could even say anything, you had lunged at him. You gripped his flannel like it was a lifeline, though the heat of your hands was threatening to burn it.

“Please don’t leave,” you begged. “I’ll do anything. Be anything. I can’t--"

“Honey, I need you to breathe,” Logan’s voice came out as calm as he could. His hands hovered over you, too scared to push you farther. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“You—You aren’t?"

“No, I walked out so that I could calm down.”

“You're---You're mad at me?”

“No, sweetheart, never… Yes, I'm disappointed that you felt like you couldn't tell me no and that you think I don’t see you as more than an object. But I’m not mad, and I'm not leaving.”

“Can… can you hold me then?”

Logan didn’t waste another second in pulling you into him. “I need you to be honest with me when you're mind is doing this to you.” 

“I know.”

“I hate that I… that I did anything without your consent. I never want to do that. Ever.”

“I know... I’m sorry."

“I’m sorry, too… We need to come up with a way for you to tell me when you're feeling this way. I can pick up the changes in your body, and I will not ignore them again, but I also need you to be honest with me.”

“I know… I know... I'll tell you next time it happens."

“Does it happen often?"

“No… not at all.”

“But it's happened before?"

“Yes.”

Logan pulled back and cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. “I love you, baby. I love you. The whole person that you are. Every bit of your brain, your mutation, your body, and your personality. You are more to me than some object and I will do whatever I can to get your brain to believe me.”

“Okay,” you nodded slightly. "Thank you, Logan."

“Always, sweetheart. Always.”

~~~

Logan had gotten used to his adamantium skeleton over the years, but it still didn't change the fact that sometimes he was scared that he could accidentally hurt you. Not just with his claws, but that he could hold you a bit too tight, or crush you during sex, or even just hit you a bit too hard in any of his movements.

The two of you were in town for a quick errand. You jumped out of the truck and came to his side. Before you could grab his hand to hold, Logan stuffed them into his pockets. A tinge of hurt ran through you, but you shook it off. Logan wasn't a fan of PDA, even the simplest of actions, though you were usually the exception. Not trying to think of Logan's rejection too much, you led him into the store.

“I got it,” he muttered, taking the cart from you. 

Your head tilted as you caught sight of how tightly both of his hands were gripping the cart. The bar was threatening to give way. “Are you okay, baby?”

“‘m fine.” 

You sighed, knowing that it wasn't worth it to push in such a public space. You made sure to get your groceries quickly as you could feel the tension radiating off of Logan. Once the two of you got back into the truck, Logan gripped the steering wheel tightly, where he would usually place a hand on your thigh. You tried not to take it personally as the tension grew in the truck. 

Logan was quick to get out and gather all the groceries before heading into the house. You were even more confused and concerned than before. You found him in the kitchen putting the items away. You walked over and went to wrap your arms around him, but Logan tensed, causing you to reel back.

“Honey, are you okay?” You asked, clearly concerned. 

“Fine,” he grunted, pulling away from you.

“No, you’re not. Talk to me.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Do I… When we… When I…” He stammered. He glanced at you, almost melting at you stood there waiting for him to gather his thoughts with such loving patience. “When I touch you, do I ever hurt you?”

“What?”

“Like when I hold your hand or hug you or when we have sex?”

“Never,” you shook your head, stepping forward. “You never hurt me. Why would you think that?”

“It’s just… I’m stronger than you and then there’s my adamantium skeleton. I… I could hurt you so easily… Are you sure I don’t?”

“James,” you carefully rested your hands on his chest as you kept eye contact with him. “I never feel anything but pure love and safety in your touch.”

“But I—“

“You are stronger than me and your skeleton is much heavier, but the only place I truly feel safe is in your arms. You would never to anything to hurt me like that on purpose, I know it. You are always so careful with me. I always feel treasured by you.”

Slowly, his hands came to your waist, barely holding you. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, honey.”

“I don’t hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Never.”

He sighed and leaned his forehead against yours. “It’s gonna take me a minute to get out of this mindset, princess.”

“Take all the time you need. I’ll still be here.”

[winchesterwild78]

Broken pt 4

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (wife)

Warnings: grief, very light Smut, and a surprise

A/N:  Idea given to me by @cheekygirl2309. This one is a little different than what I usually write. It has angst, lots of angst to start, and infertility issues. It's going to be a short series.

Minors DNI 18+

The next week Jensen and I reconnected and my love for him deepened. I was so wrapped up in being there with him and the time we spent together I felt a little better, lighter even. 

Tonight was no different than any other night we’d spent there. Jensen and I cooked dinner together. Jensen carried in enough firewood for the night and I picked a movie for us. 

The opening credits started and Jensen chuckled, “Really?” I looked at him and laughed, “Yes, really. Everyone needs an Olaf in their lives.” Jensen laughed and rolled his eyes. 

“Okay fine, but don’t expect me to sing.” I placed my hand on his chest and giggled, “Okay, Jens. I don’t expect you to, but I know you still will.” He smirked because he knew I was right. 

When we finished the movie we went to bed. Crawling into bed Jensen pulled me close to his side. He kissed my lips softly, “Baby I love you so much.” I smiled against his lips, “I love you too, Jens.” 

I bit my lip. I wanted to talk to him about trying for a baby, but I didn’t know how to start the conversation. Things have been so  up in the air since my father died, I wasn’t sure if he’d be open to trying right now. 

My grief was still raw, but being with Jensen, being here everything seemed perfect. 

Jensen sensed something was wrong because I had gotten so quiet. “Sweetheart, you okay?” “Yeah, um, well I was thinking, and you can say no if you think it’s not a good idea. I won’t be upset, I just think, no, well I..” I just kept rambling and Jensen placed his hand on my cheek, “Honey, take a breath. What is it?” 

I took a deep breath and let it out, “I think I want to try for a baby now.” Jensen leaned up, “Really?”

“Yes, daddy wouldn’t want us to put our lives on hold, and before this we were trying. So what do you say?” Jensen smiled, still holding my face, “Yes. If you’re ready, then I’m ready.” Then he placed a kiss on my lips. Soft at first and then full of want and need. 

He took his time with me, exploring every inch of my body. When we both reached our final climax my body felt like it did the first time we made love. So satisfied, wanted and completely his. I drifted off to sleep feeling safe in his arms. 

Around 2am Jensen woke up to the sounds of me whimpering and crying in my sleep. He tried to gently wake me up, but I didn’t wake. He sat up, turned the light on and saw the pain etched across my face as the tears fell from my closed eyes. My cries and moans broke his heart. 

He grabbed my shoulders and shook, “Baby, wake up. Come on Y/N, wake up baby. You’re having a nightmare.” 

I finally woke up and saw Jensen. “Shh, baby I’ve got you. It’s okay, you’re okay.” I sobbed into his chest as he held me, rubbing my head and back. 

“I’m sorry, Jensen. I’m so sorry.” “No, honey. You have nothing to be sorry for. This is completely normal.” 

Jensen held me close the rest of the night. I finally drifted off to sleep again, but it wasn’t restful. Jensen stayed awake holding me until the sun came up. Around dawn he drifted off to sleep once he was sure I was okay. 

We both woke up around noon. Jensen went outside to gather some more firewood and I went to take a shower. When Jensen came inside he heard the shower running so he decided to get the fire going and make some lunch. 

I got in the shower and let the hot water envelop my body. My muscles ached, my head hurt and my heart was still broken. I was mentally exhausted. Emotionally I was torn, my heart was broken because I missed my father, but my heart was also full of so much love for Jensen and the possibility of us having a baby. 

The emotions I tried to keep inside finally broke and like a damn the tears and sobs came rushing out. The weight of the past week was finally crashing down around me. I leaned back against the cold shower tile, slid down and sobbed. Hitting the floor of the tub I pulled my legs up to my chest and held on tightly. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My body shook with the sobs and grief that I bottled up.

Jensen finished making lunch and realized I was still in the shower. He thought it was strange because I had been in there for almost 40 minutes. 

Jensen walked to the bathroom door and knocked. “Honey, lunch is ready, are you okay? You’ve been in there awhile.” He listened but there was no answer. Then he heard the slightest sound, a whimper. 

He opened the door and found me in the shower on the floor crying. “Y/N, baby. I’ve got you honey.” He climbed in the shower and lifted me up holding on to me. The water, now cold, ran down his clothed body as he held me in his protective embrace. 

“Come on baby, let’s get you out of here.” My hands clinged to him as he held me tight. 

Jensen grabbed a towel and wrapped me in it. He carried me to the bed and laid me down gently. Grabbing one of his shirts he put it on me as he put a blanket over me. 

He quickly changed clothes and crawled in the bed next to me. As soon as I felt him beside me I collapsed in his arms. I felt like I was losing my mind. I was so numb and felt so hollow. 

Jensen was really starting to worry about me. He had no idea how to help me, but he was determined to figure it out. 

“Sweetheart, I’m here if you want to talk. Whenever you’re ready.” I just nodded. I wasn’t ready to talk yet. I just laid in his arms for a little bit longer. 

Jensen’s phone rang, piercing the silence that filled the cabin. He didn’t move. I looked up at him, “Jens, go ahead and answer it.” 

“No, whoever it is will leave a message and I’ll call them back.” “Jens, it could be important.” I didn’t want him to miss anything important because of me. “Please.” 

He reluctantly got up and grabbed his phone. It was his mom. “It was mom.” “Call her back Jens. Please.” He nodded, “I’ll be right out here. If you need me, holler.” I nodded.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” “Hey Jensen. How’s Y/N doing?” His mom asked. 

“She’s doing about as good as expected. One minute she’s okay, and the next it all comes crashing back. I don’t know how to help her.” 

“Just be there for her. During the highs and the lows. Especially the lows. Hold her and remind her just how much she’s loved. She has to work through this in her time, and we have to be patient with her.” 

“I am, mom. I just don’t want to push her, and I hate to see her in so much pain.” “Jensen, I know you well enough to know you’re not going to push her. You love her hard, and when it gets hard, you double down. She needs you now more than ever and she needs to know that the other man in her life isn’t going anywhere.” 

“I understand. Thanks Mom. I love you.” “You’re welcome, Jensen. Now go take care of our girl. I love you too, son.” 

By the time Jensen hung up with his mom I was out of the bed and walking towards the kitchen. He went through all the trouble of fixing something to eat, so I needed to eat. 

We sat together at the table to eat. Jensen watched me and carefully chose his words. “Mom said hello and she loves you and if you need anything to let her know.” I nodded. 

We sat in silence while eating. Jensen’s eyes flicked to mine. He saw the pain in my eyes and it broke his heart. “Thank you for eating, baby.” Again I just nodded. I couldn’t trust my voice. 

My heart beat fast in my chest. “Jens, I’m scared.” My voice barely audible, almost a whisper. 

Jensen stopped eating and looked up at me, “What? Why are you scared, baby?” I nervously picked at my fingers and bit my lip, “I lost my daddy, my one anchor to the world. Now I’m scared I’m going to lose you too. I can’t lose you. I wouldn’t survive that.” 

Jensen stood, pulled me into his arms, and held me tightly, “Baby, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me forever. You and I are going to be with each other until we’re 100. I’m going to be chasing you around in my wheelchair and we are going to sit on the front porch swing holding hands watching the sunset.” 

A small smile tugged on my lips. He always knew how to make my heart a little better. One of the things I loved about him. 

“100, huh?” I asked as he smiled and nodded. He gently kissed my lips and whispered, “100”.

We finished our meal and I walked over to the large floor to ceiling window in the living room and looked out at the fresh white snow. It truly was breathtaking. 

Jensen walked up behind me and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and then snaked his arms around my waist. I leaned back into him. 

Jensen rested his chin on my shoulder, I could feel his hot breath on my neck and it sent a shiver down my spine. 

Turning my head towards him I looked into his eyes. So beautiful and filled with so much love, it took my breath away. I turned and faced him, “Jensen, I’m so sorry I can’t move past this. You’ve been so patient with me and I feel like a damn yoyo. One minute I’m good and the next I’m on the floor sobbing.”

He cupped my face, “Baby I wouldn’t expect you to move past this. This isn’t the kind of thing in life you just get over. It’s going to take time, lots of time to be okay, and even if you’re not okay, that’s okay too. You talking about things, remembering him, hell even crying is helping you heal. You’re never going to get over this, but it will get a little easier every day.”

Placing a gentle kiss on my forehead I leaned into him more. “I love you so much, Jensen.” “I love you too, Y/N. We will work on this together. I’m not going anywhere.” 

A few hours later Jensen and I were sitting together on the couch just talking. The conversation was mostly light. He was talking about the filming and how Karl almost accidentally broke Antony’s nose. He was excited about the new series and he was a little nervous too. 

I sat listening to him and watching his face light up. When he looked down at me I saw his face falter a little. “Jens, what’s wrong?” He ran his fingers through his hair, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’ve been rambling on about stupid stuff and haven’t given you a chance to talk.” 

I smiled, “I love listening to you talk about your projects. I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done and are doing. Please don’t dampen your light for me. I’m proud of you and so proud to be your wife.” 

He nodded, smiled and kissed me, “I’m so proud to be your husband. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” 

Our conversation continued and I felt myself finding a little more peace. My heart still ached for my father, but it was at peace with Jensen too. I looked over at Jensen, ready to tell him more about the turmoil inside me. “Jens, did I ever tell you my parents split for a little bit when I was a teenager?”

He looked at me with wide eyes, “No. I didn’t know that.” “Yeah, I was about 15 and I remember they got into a huge fight. Mom told dad to leave, so he, being the respectful man he was, packed up and left. My heart was broken. I barely spoke to my mom and finally decided to move in with my dad. My mom had me and Abby, and my dad had nobody. I couldn’t do that to him. Moving in with him was one of the best decisions of my life. We became super close. Dad taught me how to defend myself against “handsy boys” as he put it, he taught me how and when to plant a garden, he also taught me how to be strong. His heart was broken from the split with mom, but every day he got up, went to work and then spent the evening trying to repair the marriage. Eventually they worked it out and had a stronger marriage after, but I’ll never forget how much effort he put in even when his heart was broken.”

“Wow, sweetheart. I didn’t know that. I knew he was an incredible man, but that was amazing. I’m so glad you got to spend time with him, and that you shared that story with me.” Jensen kissed my lips softly. His hands tangled in my hair as he deepened the kiss. 

We started making out like a couple of teenagers. My giggles and his chuckles filled the air. He had me laid back on the couch and he hovered over me, “God I love your laugh, Y/N. You’re so beautiful.” I bit my lip, “I love you so much, Jensen. I can’t wait to have your baby.” 

He kissed my lips, “Why wait, let’s see if we can practice now.” He scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom. I giggled all the way down the hallway, “Jensen Ross, put me down.” “I will, once I get you in the room.” He laughed. 

He gently put me down and started peppering kissing down my neck and to my chest. Lifting my shirt off and removing my bra he exposed my breasts. His lips and fingers touching them and teasing them. 

Jensen laid me back on the bed and removed the rest of my clothes, then his. There was no urgency in the moment, just the connection of being together and in each other’s arms. Jensen’s touch was tender, like I was a porcelain doll that could break at any moment. 

He made me feel loved, worshipped, wanted. Our bodies tangled with each other for a few hours. Every second a little piece of my heart healed. Laying in his arms in the stillness of the room I knew I would be okay. I drifted off into a peaceful sleep. The first one in a while and dreamed of my dad.

*Dream*

“Daddy, what are you doing here?” “Hey peanut, I just wanted to check in on you. How ya doing?” “Oh daddy, I miss you so much. It hurts.” 

My dad pulled me into a hug, “Oh sweetie, I know it does, but you’re going to be just fine. You’re stronger than you think, and you’ve got yourself an amazing husband.” I nodded as the tears fell, “I know daddy. He’s been so incredible. You were right, daddy, he’s definitely a keeper.” 

My dad nodded, “Hey peanut, I have something for you. I know you’re going to be great and you’re going to be okay. I want you to have this.” As my dad turned back towards me he handed me a baby wrapped in a blanket.

I looked confused, “Daddy, I don’t understand.” He kissed my forehead and looked at me and down at the baby in my arms, “Don’t worry, you will.” 

Before I could ask him anything else I woke up. Jensen wasn’t beside me, and the room was dark. 

I couldn’t get the dream out of my head. I got dressed and found Jensen sitting by the fire reading a book. I smiled and walked over to him, “Hey baby.” He looked up and smiled, “Hey sweetheart, how’d you sleep?” Placing a soft kiss on his lips I whispered, “Better than I have in a long time, thank you.” 

The next morning after we showered and got dressed Jensen and I decided to take a trip into town. I felt better than I had in a few days, but I couldn’t shake the dream I had. 

Since that dream I felt so much better, more at peace, but I didn’t tell Jensen about it. I wasn’t sure how to tell him I dreamed about my dad and right before I woke up he handed me a baby. 

We went to the grocery store to grab some food and I found myself down the feminine product aisle. With everything going on I lost track of my cycle, so I grabbed some pads just in case. I glanced over and saw the pregnancy tests too. I grabbed one and tossed it in the cart with the pads. 

I have no idea what possessed me to buy one, maybe it was a habit, but I don’t know. 

Arriving back home I helped Jensen put away the groceries. I grabbed the bag with the pads and test in it and took it to the bathroom. I decided to go ahead and take the test, so I closed the bathroom door. 

I took the test, set the timer and sat on the side of the tub. The dream replayed in my head. When the timer went off I took a deep breath, stood and walked over to the sink. 

I closed my eyes, let out the breath and looked down. There it was, the results staring me back in the face. I swallowed hard and took in a shaky breath. 

Tears fell from my eyes. With shaky hands I grabbed the test and looked at it again. Jensen knocked on the door and it startled me, “Babe, you okay?”

I couldn’t speak. I opened the door and he saw the tears and immediately wrapped me in a hug. 

“Shh it’s okay baby. I know.” I pulled back. Even though I had tears streaming down my face I was smiling. He looked confused. “Jens, I…” I couldn’t speak. I just handed him the test. He looked at it, his green eyes flicked to mine and with a smile on his face he whispered, “Really?” 

I nodded, “Yes. Jensen. We’re pregnant.” 

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[faynthearted]

a/n: a drabble for @beautifulboysbeingbusy, who requested tianshan talking about loved ones they've lost during the holidays, and @faery-moss, who requested morning cuddles and tianshan's first Christmas together. enjoy! <3

----

When he was younger, Guan Shan never slept on Christmas Eve. He’d try, but the excitement, the anticipation, would fuel him the entire week leading up to Christmas. He’d lay in bed until the first rays of sunlight fell into his bedroom, then he’d race to wake up his parents. They always woke with a smile as he climbed into their bed.

Now, He Tian smiles as he lies in Guan Shan’s bed.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs against Guan Shan’s lips when he wakes, still sleep heavy. “I think your mom is already up. I heard the sink running.”

“Yeah,” Guan Shan mumbles, wrapping around him. He’s warm and too big for a twin sized mattress. Guan Shan has never complained about it. “She likes to make breakfast right away on holidays."

“It smells sweet.”

“It’s stuffed french toast. Fresh fruit on top. Since you’re here, she’ll probably pull out all the stops and make muffins, too.”

He Tian hums, pleased. “I must admit I feel awfully special whenever I come over,” he says. “I should’ve brought her another gift.”

“God, no,” Guan Shan tells him, because he already helped He Tian wrap two presents for her the other day: a gold necklace and a scarf. They're sitting under the small tree in the living room. Anything more and she would begin to ask Guan Shan more questions than she already does. Guan Shan is beginning to run out of ways to tell her that yes, He Tian is a very good friend, and no, Guan Shan doesn’t know what his parents do for work.

He Tian huffs a laugh. He’s in good spirits already, eyes bright and hands warm as he shifts their weight, settling on top of Guan Shan.

Guan Shan lets him kiss him, but a few moments in, He Tian pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Guan Shan shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. He Tian’s touch lingers on his side. Waiting.

Eventually, Guan Shan breathes out. There's an awful dread building in his throat. He says, “Tell my mom that breakfast was good after we’re done eating. Even if it wasn't, tell her it was."

“Of course I will,” He Tian says and Guan Shan doesn't doubt it. “I’m sure it will be good. I’ve had her cooking before. Is she— is it usually not good?”

Bringing up his hands, Guan Shan presses them into his eyes. “No,” he mumbles, “it’s good. But just tell her that it is anyway, okay? Don't make a big deal out of it, but make a point of it at least."

“Okay.” After a moment, He Tian’s fingers wrap around his, pulling them down. “What’s wrong, ah-Shan? What’s this about?”

Guan Shan swallows. He’s had an awful pit in his stomach since yesterday, though he’d done a well enough job of hiding it. Or maybe he hadn’t. Maybe He Tian saw right through it the entire time. Maybe that’s why he’s looking at him like this.

He Tian's smile is gone now and Guan Shan feels stupidly selfish.

“My dad used to be in charge of Christmas breakfast," Guan Shan says, looking away. "He always made the same thing. The french toast. Breakfast was the first thing we'd do once we all woke up. And it— it’s fucking impossible not to be reminded of that every year. It ruins everything for me. My mom got the recipe from him and she’s always done a good job since he’s been gone, but…”

He doesn’t know how to put it into words. If he was a better person, he’d be able to say that the breakfasts are now a tribute to his father. That they're a piece of him that Guan Shan and his mother get to honor and carry with them, but it's always felt more like a gaping wound that never closed. When it’s just him and his mom sharing breakfast each year, they make light of the situation, but there’s always an inevitable lapse of silence that’s impossible to ignore.

Today will be the first time in nine years that there’s a third person at the table. Guan Shan wants He Tian here — he asked him to be here — but he doesn’t want to endure the suffocation of another holiday. He doesn’t want He Tian to see the evidence of Guan Shan’s broken origins, laid out on a tablecloth with ceramic plates and silverware.

It’s Christmas. They’re supposed to be grateful; happy. Bright and in good spirits, like He Tian.

After a minute, He Tian brings Guan Shan’s fingers to his lips.

“I didn’t want to tell you this,” He Tian starts, speaking against his skin, “because I didn’t want to… ruin the day, or make it about me. But I understand, Guan Shan. The impossibility, I mean. I got your mom the scarf because you said she’d like that color, but I got her the necklace because that’s what my mom asked for every year. A gold necklace. My brother would either get her matching earrings or a charm to add onto it and we’d wrap them in the same box. She loved it, but she died a couple weeks before Christmas one year. I was never able to give her that last necklace.”

He turns Guan Shan’s hand over, pressing a kiss to his palm. There's a pause, his eyes gone distant. Eventually, he lowers Guan Shan's hand.

“Christmas fucking sucks, sweetheart,” He Tian continues, offering a small, closed-lip smile. “I hate it. It's ruined for me, too. But that’s because I usually wake up alone, and I’m not expecting a nice breakfast, and I don’t have a mother to give a necklace. It’s different this year even if it’s not exactly what I had as a kid. It won’t get easier, but it can get better. You’re showing me that. I want to do the same for you.”

They hold each other's gaze. A pot clangs in the kitchen, muffled through the walls. Guan Shan thinks he can hear his mother humming a holiday song. It makes his eyes sting.

He pulls He Tian back down to him, and they lay in bed as the smell of blueberry muffins wafts under his bedroom door.

[kawoala]

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 004 ; jailbird.

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২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (1,033)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (bailing someone out of jail, runa being upset but only bc she loves her cousin, flirty! suna AGAIN, tiny bit of arguing, kind of also a filler :/)

There are many perks of having a roommate. For example, you’re no longer alone. Now, when you stay up late, there is someone keeping you company, making you laugh and swapping war stories with you.

Just as there are perks, there are bad things as well. For example, you can hear everything that goes on. Including when Runa gets a phone call in the middle of the night, despite her phone being silent.

“Hello?” Her voice groggy, sleep still coating her throat. She pauses, then clears her throat. “Rin? What are—“ she stops talking, or she’s cut off. You roll over in bed and face her. “Oh, okay, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. Okay, yeah, love you too.”

She glances at you and, even in the dark, she can see your eyes open. “Sorry,” she apologizes in a whisper. “Rin called me. He, um, got arrested. Again.”

You blink a couple times, your tiredness suddenly gone. You sit up at the same time she does. “Again?” You repeat. You watch her slip on her shoes, forgetting about even needing socks. “Are you going to bail him out?”

“Yeah,” she says, standing up and rushing to put a coat on. “I’m sorry I woke you up. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Um, wait.” She stops, but you can see the urgency in her eyes. “Can I go with you? I don’t mean to be codependent, or whatever, but, um.”

She sighs, pressing the palm of her hand against her forehead, then nods. “Yeah,” she says, nodding. “Yeah, you can come. Just, uh, hurry up. Please.”

Suddenly, all the years of people calling you weird for sleeping in socks are thrown out the window. All you have to do is slip on some shoes. Thanks to the extremely cold AC in your building, you’re already in a hoodie and sweatpants.

The streets are practically empty as Runa drives down them. That’s to be expected, though, since it’s nearly three o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday. She opts out of playing music. Her knuckles are white as they grip the steering wheel. You wonder how many times she’s done this before. 

You’ve never been to a police station. Actually, that’s a lie. You went on a field trip in middle school— the first and last time you’d ever been inside one. You don’t know how bailing someone out works, either, but Runa looks familiar with the process, so you just follow her.

The police station is quiet— unexpectedly so. You spent years of your childhood watching police shows, so you expected it to be a little more rowdy than a homeless man and a sobbing teenage girl. It’s colder than you expected, too. Even though you’re wearing a hoodie, you still have to wrap your arms around yourself.

The woman at the front desk seems familiar with Runa. They talk in hushed voices for a minute or two, and then Runa gestures for you to follow her. You glance back at the desk woman, but she’s typing away at her computer once again, seemingly honed in on whatever.

You follow Runa to what you assume is the back of the station. There are jail cells lined up against the wall, but most of them are empty. You stop at the last one and a quiet gasp leaves your mouth at the sight.

It’s Rin, but he’s hunched over, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His knuckles are visibly bruised and you think there might be blood staining his shirt. He looks up at the absence of further footsteps. His eyes are red.

“You’re an idiot,” Runa says, crossing her arms over her chest.

His eyes flicker from her to you and you wave. “Hi, Rin.”

“I mean—“ She scoffs. “This is, what, the third time in as many months? Get it together, Rin! Like, what were you thinking? You know how much this costs me?”

“Costs you?” Rin repeats, scoffing as he now stands up. “I pay you back every time, don’t even.”

She clamps her jaw shut, and you know it’s because she’s too angry to speak. She glances back and waves her hand. The next thing you know, Rin is standing next to you and Runa.

You’re quiet, because what else are you supposed to do? Runa and Rin keep glaring at each other and, for a brief moment, you think they’re communicating telepathically. Rin looks at you, a small smirk on his face, and you look away.

This was a bad idea.

When you finally leave, something occurs to you. Where are you supposed to sit now? The front seat or the back seat? Rin is her cousin, but she’s mad at him, so maybe she’ll make him sit in the back? Your feet seem to stutter and you trip a bit, catching yourself before you can hit the ground. Rin and Runa look back, brows furrowed, but you clear your throat and shrug.

And then Runa solves all your problems by getting in the passenger seat. Rin is driving, got it. You get in the backseat and sit behind Rin.

This is ridiculous. The car ride is quiet. You can practically see steam coming off of Runa. Rin is driving with one hand. Your head is swimming. You stare out the window and look at the houses as you pass them.

Rin drives to his house and, before he leaves, he walks over to your side of the car and leans down into the window. “You came with her.”

You shrug, wringing your fingers in your lap. “I’ve never been to a police station before.” It’s an excuse, you know he knows. “And I was bored.”

“You were sleeping,” he hums out. “I think,” he leans closer, now whispering, “you just wanted to see me.”

“What?” Your face heats up, eyes widening a bit. “That’s— I didn’t— Runa was just—“

He laughs and smacks the roof of the car. “I’ll see you guys later, yeah?” He looks at Runa and stops laughing. “I’m sorry, Runie. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolls her eyes. She puts the car in drive and drives off.

@sahrii , @cherrysurf , @heartmaddie , @jpegarchives , @massacremars

@vertejay , @tiramizuloz , @gumims , @mybelovedvi , @chaotic-neutral-ig

@usbrous , @iheartamora , @iluv-ace , @xavlyzn , @velvetreds

@mysticstrawberryballoon , @h0n3y-l3m0n05 , @aethersluvrr , @smiithys , @rriwyu

@twiishaa , @kissingkzuha

[berberriescorner]

Moments to Cherish🎄♥️

Character: Husband!Austin Butler x Black!Reader.

Word Count: 700+.

"A Season of Love Christmas Series 🎄♥️"

You woke to the soft glow of Christmas morning spilling into the room, the air filled with a cozy stillness. You lay nestled under the covers, feeling the warmth of Austin beside you. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, a soft sound that filled the quiet morning. You smiled, tracing the outline of his jaw with your gaze, taking in the way his short, slightly mussed hair framed his forehead.

The anticipation of Christmas morning settled in, the magic of the day intertwining with the comforting weight of your growing belly. This was a moment you’d dreamed about for years—your first Christmas as parents-to-be. Leaning closer, you brushed a soft kiss against Austin’s cheek, savoring the quiet intimacy of the morning.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” you whispered, your voice carrying all the warmth and joy you felt.

He stirred, his eyelids fluttering open as a sleepy smile spread across his face. “Merry Christmas, beautiful,” he replied, his voice low and raspy from sleep. He stretched, the movement highlighting the toned lines of his chest and shoulders, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection—and attraction—for him.

Austin rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand as he studied you with a soft, adoring gaze. “I’ll never get over waking up next to you,” he murmured, his fingertips brushing a stray curl from your face. “And now, waking up to both of you? It’s like Christmas came early.”

You laughed softly, the sound muffled by the blankets as you snuggled closer. “You’re already working the charm, huh? It’s barely morning.”

He smirked, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “What can I say? I know my audience.”

“Are you ready to celebrate?” you asked, your heart racing with excitement.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, his brown eyes sparkling with affection. “I still can’t believe it’s our first Christmas with the little one. I feel like we should’ve had an extra stocking up already.”

“Next year,” you promised, resting your hand on your belly. “We’ll go all out, stockings and matching pajamas and everything.”

“Deal,” he said with a grin, pulling you into his arms for a lingering hug. The warmth of his embrace made you feel like you could stay there forever, wrapped in the simple perfection of the moment.

“Let’s exchange gifts,” you suggested, breaking the silence as excitement bubbled over.

Austin’s face lit up. “You first,” he said, gesturing for you to go ahead.

You reached beneath the blankets, retrieving a carefully wrapped gift. “I hope you like it,” you said, handing it to him and watching as he tore into the wrapping paper with childlike enthusiasm.

When he revealed the sleek leather watch case, his jaw dropped slightly, and a wide grin spread across his face. “Wow,” he said, running his fingers over the smooth surface. “This is perfect. You really know me, don’t you?”

You beamed, feeling a surge of happiness at his reaction. “I thought it’d be a nice way to keep your watches organized. Plus, I couldn’t resist—it looks so classy, just like you.”

He laughed, pulling you in for a kiss. “Classy, huh? I’ll take it.”

“Okay, now my turn,” he said, retrieving a small, beautifully wrapped box from the bedside table.

Your heart raced as you unwrapped it, revealing a delicate gold bracelet adorned with tiny charms, each one symbolizing a moment in your relationship. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you turned it over, reading the engraving on the inside: “Always with you.”

“It’s beautiful, Austin,” you whispered, emotion thick in your voice. “I love it.”

“I wanted you to have something to remind you of how much you mean to me,” he said, his voice soft and sincere. “Especially with our baby on the way… you’re the most important part of my life, both of you.”

He fastened the bracelet around your wrist, his touch lingering as he pressed a kiss to your palm. “Thank you for always making me feel like the luckiest man alive.”

“You’re the one who makes me feel special,” you said, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. “Thank you for always being you.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours in a kiss that spoke of promises and love, of the future you were building together.

As he pulled back, a playful glint appeared in his eyes. “Ready to start the day?”

“Absolutely,” you said, grinning. “Let’s make this a Christmas to remember.”

Hand in hand, you stepped into the magic of the day, the air filled with love and the unspoken promise of all the Christmas mornings yet to come.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, my babies! MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄♥️!!

Tagging some lovelies:

@darqchilddaydreamz @astoldbychae @sunshine-flower

@that-one-anxious-mango @1andonlytashae @starrynite7114

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

@ratadediamante tagged me in this, soo…..

Head canons of our favourite ship’s morning routine: married edition✨

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• lyra’s and grayson’s jobs start at different times, with graysons starting earlier and lyras starting later, but grayson always makes sure to kiss her every morning before he leaves, and even make her breakfast if he has the time. sometimes, he’ll even take photos of her if she looks especially cute while sleeping :))

• but some days, lyra insists at waking up at the same time as grayson. the first time, she figured that it will be a cute, bonding time between her and her husband. she was wrong.

• grayson woke lyra up at 5:00 in the morning, and she grumbled while getting dressed, grumbled while brushing her teeth, and grumbled while doing her makeup. grayson secretly recorded the parts where she was turned away from him, and it was hilarious how mad she looked. eventually, grayson decided that he would wake up at 6 instead of 5, and now the couple wakes up together most days.

• these more present days, lyra is first to wake up, as her husband is a more deep sleeper, and wakes him up with kisses all over his face. grayson never told anyone this and never will, but some days he wakes up before the alarm he sets, yet he pretends to be asleep so that he can be “woken up” by lyras kisses. 🤭🤭

• despite lyras enthusiastic way of waking grayson up, she always insists on the two of them staying in bed for longer, to which grayson spends the next 5 minutes convincing her to get up. some days, if she gets too tired, he quite literally has to carry her out of bed. sometimes lyra feels too lazy to walk, so she argues with him on purpose, just so he can carry her into their walk in closet and she can get dressed. 😭☠️

• not every day, but some days, grayson will go for a quick morning swim, and lyra likes to tag along sometimes. she usually just ends up dipping her feet in the pool while sitting in silence, (bc she believes its therapeutic 😭😭) but other times she’ll read a book, or just tell her husband to swim closer so that she can chat with him.

• when they’re FINALLY in their walk in closet getting ready for the day, (bc i know they have one for their mass amounts of clothing) they always require opinions from each other on what to wear. lyra always has doubts on which top matches her skirt/pants the best, and grayson loves having her opinion on which suit style/colour would be the best for that day. sometimes lyra talks him out of wearing his suit jacket if it’s hot that day, and once she even convinced him to wear a nice t shirt and pants to the office for work. let’s just say, history was made that day.

• grayson never has too much time to get ready in the morning because his job starts earlier, but lyra always makes sure to play music while they brush their teeth/do their morning routines in the bathroom. she’s been doing it ever since they moved out, and every day they play different playlists. one playlist is adhered more to lyras taste, and the other is more of graysons kind of music.

• for MONTHS after they got married, lyra would spend most of her time getting ready in the bathroom just staring at her ring, and grayson has caught her doing it so many times. he finds it so cute and is so glad that she liked her ring (and her marriage 😏) so much. once her facial cream kept getting stuck in the cracks of her ring, so she took it off just to rub it on her skin. but the mournful look she was giving her ring on the counter made grayson believe for a moment that an eagle would swoop in from the bathroom window and snatch it away right before her eyes. he teased her about it, and she didn’t even care. her ring was pure treasure to her, and everyone knew it.

• once they’re out of the bathroom and lyra is all done with her makeup, the two are headed straight to the kitchen. normally grayson would head out with a coffee and not a second thought about getting a good meal, but after marriage, things change. and he had gotten so many talks from lyra and her mother about how breakfast was the most important meal of the day, that’s he’s finally given in and makes it a priority every morning. lyra herself didn’t even prioritize it, but after finally deciding that she was done with her extra grogginess in the morning, she made it a habit to always make grayson and her eat breakfast together. neither of them are skilled cooks, but lyra is amazing at making breakfast foods that her mom/stepdad used to make for her all the time, and grayson loves them + how happy she is while cooking them.

• other times though, they’ll be too lazy to cook breakfast, or just want something nicer, and just drive out to a diner instead. they have one near their house + both their workplaces that they really like, so they go there every time. they both find the place so peaceful and beautiful, and sometimes, if they’re both too tired or upset or however they may feel in the morning to talk, they sit on the same side of the booth and lyra lays her head on graysons shoulder. they know that they love each other so much, and sometimes, they just want to love each other in silence.

• after breakfast, grayson drives her to her place of work, and they make conversation along the way. gossip they heard from people they know, their dreams of the future, or even something that hasn’t been able to leave their mind. lyra usually is the one talking graysons ear off on the way to work, as after all her grumbling and groaning in the morning she suddenly feels productive on the car ride there, and grayson just listens with a smile. there’s nothing that he wouldn’t listen to as long as it came out of his wife’s mouth.

• when grayson drops her off, he gives her a lunch that he packed her in the morning, or that she packed for herself the night before. but, on days where lyra forgot to pack her lunch and grayson “forgot” to pack his too, he promises to pick her up for lunch to take her out. he then, for those days that he gets to see her for lunch, leaves with a smile, knowing that he has one more good thing to look forward to in his day.

EXTRA: married lyragrayson morning routine after a (very rare) bad fight :(( (this one is more of a rare situation as they don’t really ever get into bad fights, so that’s why the writing looks more like a fic than headcanons (bc i didn’t wanna say “usually” they do this or “typically” they do that as it’s uncommon for them to be fighting in the first place LOL))

• lyra wakes up on her bed, feeling cold and dull and wondering why, before turning around and realizing he wasn’t behind her. lyra is confused, but only for a moment, before her fatigue-riddled mind finally remembers that she sent him off to sleep on the couch last night. a numb feeling overtook her, and she got the sick sensation in her throat that she was going to start crying. except lyra wasn’t going to start crying, because she’d spent all last night sobbing into her pillow anyway.

• getting up, she kicked her feet off the side of her bed, her tired brain trying to process what to do next. where was grayson? what does a wife do after her first big fight with her husband? maybe people were right about the honeymoon phase, and all that was good before was gone. she looked at the ring in her hand, and after minutes of numb eyes staring, took it off. it was only for a moment, but the look of her empty ring finger and it sitting discarded on her bedside table made her feel guilty enough to put it back on.

• finally getting up, lyra decides that what’s done is done and she has to get started with her day. surprising to no one, she has a pounding head ache from all the crying she had been doing the night before. lyra walks into her closet and puts on a pair of clothes, the pair that had been rotting in the back of her closet because they’re as dull as lyra feels. perfect.

• walking over to her bathroom, lyra slides open the sliding door, and sees him. the suit he was wearing enunciated his muscles, and lyra hated that she couldn’t tear his eyes away from his broad shoulders and biceps. once she snaps out of it, she immediately backs away when she sees grayson getting ready, but he turns around, calling her name. still, she’s walking away when she feels two hands wrap around her waist and spin her around. grayson is again face to face with her.

• he immediately apologizes for his actions, having more patience and less pettiness than lyra, and explains them. but lyra still has a bad taste in her mouth from the fight. she refuses to meet his gaze, scoffing at his words. unfortunately, she forgot that grayson could also be rather stubborn. every time she cast her gaze else where, he would always gently take hold of the top of her neck with his fingers on her jaw and move her head to look at him again. of course, lyra did feel bad, but a part of her knew that the fight mainly wasn’t her fault. it was one of graysons problems that started it.

• once he’s done his apology speech, lyra just walks past him and into the bathroom, eager to just get ready and get this over with. unfortunately, grayson wasn’t going to stop trying that quickly. he followed her everywhere: the bathroom, the vanity, the kitchen, always at least a foot behind her as she walked. and lyra was done. she whipped her head around and demanded him to explain to her the point of the fight last night. grayson replied gently, but she could see that she was testing his patience. lyra mulled on his answer before stomping off to the kitchen, and opening her fridge door. pulling enough food for two out, she started cooking. after making 4 french toasts with sausages on the side, she puts it on two plates and puts them both on the island by the two chairs they had there. grayson, however, was making coffee, and when he placed lyras cup by her plate, she tasted it and immediately scowled. it was annoyingly just how she liked it.

• grayson and her ate in silence, but after graysons stares were becoming excruciating, she turned to him with a stone cold look on his face.

• “what?” she asked, bluntly.

• “did you not sleep well last night?” he asked her.

• she scoffed. “no, i was too busy crying to get any sleeping done.”

• she hates that she knew her husband so well in this moment, because when she said it, she knew exactly how he would react. which, for all of lyras fake bluntness, was what she wanted. with his eyes softening at lyras reply, grayson immediately stood up, picking lyra up from her chair and pulling her into an embrace. she couldn’t act harshly to her husband anymore. not after he set her feet back down on the ground and stroked her hair, murmuring apologies and “i love you”’s. he covered the crown of her head with soft kisses, and when lyra turned her head up to look at him with gentle eyes, he covered her face in kisses too, getting a laugh out of lyra as she whacked his arm in protest.

• the rest of the day goes smoothly, as when arguments do happen between the couple, they end before the two can leave the house. grayson puts hers and his coffee in a two go cup when they see the time, and leave the house holding hands. grayson drives, and although it takes them a minute, conversation is already starting up again. grayson leaves one of his hands out, and lyra, absentmindedly, starts tracing the lines of his hand while talking. grayson smiles at the fact that she didn’t even really notice she was doing it.

• once he drops lyra off in front of her workplace, he gets out of the car to open the door for lyra. after lyra gets out of the car, grayson immediately traps her in a passionate kiss, only stopping once lyra murmurs against his lips that she’s going to be late. he separates from her lips and strokes her dark hair as he did earlier, whispering to her how beautiful she is and how lucky he is to have a wife as special as her. lyra blushes, and begins to whisper a multitude of apologies about the fight back to him, but he just kisses her to stop her. he knows that she actually is going to be late if he keeps holding on to her, so he lets go of her waist and gives her a quick goodbye peck. lyra returns it and walks off, her head ache gone along with each and every single one of her worries.

————————————————————————

ummmm these ended up being so much longer than i thought they would, but OMG i just loved writing lyrason as a married couple so much!!! it just healed something in me calling them husband and wife, and i honestly need them to get married STAT bc i love them both too much 😭💗💗