#thinking bout you lots lately have you been eating breakfast alone like me?

[thef1diary]

moving along by 5sos, charles leclerc, angst?? ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Thinking ‘Bout You | C. Leclerc

Summary: you and Charles lived in the same building, so it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did seeing you again after breaking up.

Warnings: angst, heartbreak.

Pairing: charles x ex!fem!reader

wc: 2.3k+

Charles sighed, turning the alarm off before covering his face with the blanket as he tried to get some more sleep.

Thinking 'bout you lots, lately

He pulled it off as soon it as got too suffocating, and begrudgingly looked to the empty side of the bed.

It had been empty for far too long, a few weeks went by without it being occupied by you.

He turned onto his stomach, reaching his hand out to graze the bedsheet on the other side. He grabbed the pillow you used to sleep on and brought it close to his face.

He could still smell the faint scent of your shampoo even after washing it once. Inhaling sharply, he threw the pillow off the bed before groaning.

As he closed his eyes, he was disturbed by the sound of his phone ringing. He knew it wasn't you, but a small part of him hoped that you'd call.

It was his trainer, asking if he had followed his morning routine but Charles easily lied and said he followed every step but in reality he was still in bed.

His trainer sighed, knowing how difficult it was dealing with Charles after his breakup. Usually it wasn't like this, but you weren't just anyone, you were his everything.

Knowing that if he stayed in the comfort of his sheets, he'd only reminisce the memories he made with you, so he decided to finally get up.

Have you been eating breakfast alone like me?

He wandered to the kitchen after freshening up but it didn't change his appearance much. The dark bags underneath his eyes along with the small frown that made its way to his face permanently remained the same.

He remembered how you used to stand in the kitchen, wearing one of his shirts that you accidentally stole, making breakfast that was definitely not approved by his trainer.

If he stared any longer at the empty space, his mind would play tricks on him and conjure up a dream that looked too real.

Thinking 'bout you lots, lately

He closed his eyes and rubbed them, ensuring that he wouldn't hallucinate your presence. Maybe, it was because of the lack of sleep he's been getting lately.

He had no one to blame but himself, as he had gotten used to you too quickly and it would take a while before those habits would start to disperse.

With you, even something as mundane as making breakfast was the best start to Charles' morning, but now it's the beginning to the worst days.

As he walked over to the fridge to grab some eggs, he paused, shaking his head. "Fuck this,"

He chose to grab a fruit instead so at least he had some proper nutrients and wouldn't be lectured on his eating habits.

Is it bad that I'm hoping that you're broken?

He made his way onto the sofa, in a half sitting half lying down position. He tossed his apple in the air before catching it, pretending as if it were a ball.

There were many thoughts haunting his mind, but only one stuck out to him the most. He wondered how you were, better or worse.

He kind of hoped that you were in a similar position as him, thinking of him as much as he thought of you.

Is it bad that I'm wishing you're still broken?

This had become his routine a few days after he had broken up with you, once the realization set in that you were no longer someone he'd be seeing everyday.

The first few days, his friends had taken him out to enjoy the 'single life', whatever that meant. But he did enjoy it. There was no one waiting at home for him and for some reason he liked that because he wasn't obliged to return at a reasonable time.

That you haven't found fish in the ocean

However, once he began waking up alone, missing out on the morning kisses and hugs, he realized that he had let you go.

His phone rang again, but this time he didn't even bother looking at who was calling, knowing who it'd be based on the time.

Everyday, Pierre would call at the same time just to check up on him. But by now, their conversations were so bland because he barely put effort into his responses.

He only wanted to be left alone, but ironically, he never wanted to know what it was like to be alone without you.

Is it bad? So bad

He had no idea how you were doing. But if he did, he might have felt a little better knowing he wasn't the only one in a bad mood following the breakup.

While you didn't look as bad as he did, you felt just as worse. You had already taken a few days off of work, but it was more than enough time spent sulking over him.

Truth is, you had understood the situation and accepted it better than he had. Since it wasn't exactly a mutual breakup, there was nothing you could've done to convince him otherwise.

He had already made up his mind.

While you thought he had fallen out of love with you, he was blaming himself for letting the love of his life walk away.

Is it weird that I'm drunk and on my sofa?

Charles' gaze fixated on the cabinet that held a few bottles of both yours and his choice of alcohol. He wasn't a day drinker—in fact he rarely drank unless he was celebrating—but if anyone asked, he would deny it. However, lately he had been grabbing a bottle without caring of the time.

He played some music, connecting to the speaker that you gifted him. He didn't have the heart to get rid of the things you had forgotten to take with you.

Opening the cabinet he grabbed a bottle without looking but he bypassed the glass, choosing to drink straight from the bottle.

As he spent time on his phone, which was something he rarely did, he didn't notice how much alcohol he was consuming.

Is it weird that I'm naked on my sofa?

As he was about to put his phone away, he got a notification from Instagram. When you began dating, he had turned on notifications for your account whenever you posted something. After all, he wanted to be the first to like your posts, even if he'd seen the image before you posted it because you always asked for his opinion.

Without thinking twice, he tapped on it, bringing your latest story on his screen.

It was a simple photo of the city, a view you had from your office but the words you added with the photo piqued his interest.

You had finished your long work day which made Charles check the time. He had sat on the couch sulking the entire day.

He knew you so well that he was certain you had posted the photo a few minutes after you had taken it. It was a habit that Charles told you to change, especially because he was concerned for your safety in case something bad happened.

However, right now, he was glad you didn't change, because he knew you were on the way home.

The thing was, you lived in the same building as him but you had moved into his apartment when you were dating.

All alone, damn, I wish I didn't know ya

Charles wanted to see you again, and even living nearby made it impossible due to his constant travels for work.

He stood up, ready to make his way towards the door but he stopped, finally realizing what he was about to do. You were no longer with him, heck, he's the one who ended it, but he was just so desperate to see a glimpse of you again.

You were so, so important to him but now he wished he never knew you because you occupied every thought of his.

Is it weird? So weird

Maybe he should leave the building just so he doesn't come in contact with you. He would have stayed at home, but knowing you were on your way back and living nearby, it became unbearable to stay.

Nodding once, he left his apartment. Although he slightly swayed while walking, he wasn't drunk or at least he'd like to tell himself that.

Once he entered the elevator, he placed his hands behind him on the metal bar while his head rested on the mirror.

I know I'm the stupid one who ended it

The entirety of your relationship flashed through his mind, the good, the bad, even the worst moments that he once thought were a good idea. Like breaking up with you. He laughed at himself as he wondered why on earth he ever thought being away from you was a good idea.

“I want to focus on my career, I don’t want any distractions plus I think we’d be better off without each other.” He recalled his reasons for breaking up.

And now I'm the stupid one regretting it

You were never his distraction, you were his biggest supporter. And fuck, why would he be better off without you, he doesn’t even know why he had to add that sentence.

He reached the ground floor and the doors opened but he was too consumed by his thoughts that he almost forgot to notice.

As he brought his arm out to stop the door from closing, he heard a voice—a very familiar voice.

“Pouvez-vous tenir la porte, s'il vous plaît?” You called out, rushing to enter the elevator, barely making it. (Can you hold the door please?)

I've been thinking about you lots, lately

“Merci,” you called out to the person who held the door open for you. However, you didn’t look up at them yet because you were attempting to grasp onto your bag, a purse, an umbrella and your phone all at once.

It was when Charles whispered your name you looked at him. He was in just as much shock as you, making direct eye contact.

It was too late for him to leave the elevator, it had already began going up to your floor, which was a few levels above his. He could’ve chosen to press the button for his floor, or even the next level to leave the elevator as fast as possible.

Instead, he chose to stay, watching your eyes flick over and away from him quickly, as if you were trying to decide whether to avoid him or not.

However, you chose to indulge in a conversation, especially after smelling the horrible scent of alcohol surrounding him.

Oh, are you moving along?

"Are you drunk?" You asked even though you knew the answer. He was slightly swaying around as the elevator kept going up, but he held on to the bar to stabilize himself.

He almost looked offended at your question, either because you thought so low of him to assume he was drunk or because that was the first question you asked him after your breakup.

"I might've had a drink or two" he decides, unsure whether to tell you the truth. Something he never had to think twice about before.

"You smell like you had the whole bottle, I know you Charles,” you stated, but once you saw Charles wince at your last few words, you felt the same emotions roll through you when you walked out of his apartment for the last time.

Is it wrong if I ask you to come over?

"That's the problem, you know me, so how did you let me tell you to leave?" He countered, shaking his head and wanting to blame you for his mistakes.

"What did you want me to do, stay?" You asked, scoffing when he nodded, “yes"

"I can't, you know that,” you turned away from his burning gaze, or you might just let him back in your life. “Why not? Je t'aime toujours, I can never stop loving you.” (I still love you)

Is it wrong if I tell ya that I love ya?

You were glad that you turned away otherwise he’d see you cracking through your tough exterior. You never imagined that your first meeting would be in an elevator, unplanned.

You watched the numbers on the digital screen go up, only a few more floors until yours. “You were right you know, I think we're better off without each other."

You didn’t want to repeat his words back to him, but since you had turned to look at him, you saw how those words affected him. Just like how it affected you when he first said them.

His eyes widened, his hands gripping the metal bar to ground himself. Out of all the thoughts he had running through his mind, he never thought about what he would feel if you acted the way you did.

He should’ve expected it, but he was too optimistic. Now, his own optimism would be the reason for another heartbreak, perhaps worse this time.

The elevator dinged before the door began opening, and he remained in his spot as you began walking out. His mind screamed at him to say something, anything but you spoke before he could.

“I just want you to know, I’m moving out of here—well out of Monaco. I don’t think I’ll see you again, and I’m hoping you understand and not try to contact me anymore. Goodbye Charles.”

As the doors closed again after you walked out, he felt as if the door to the opportunity of you returning was slammed shut in his face.

[rizzkisworld]

I haven't been the same since that "first Christmas morning with Matthew" dream that I had. Something Bout Matthew spoiling me eith gifts and waking me up with hot chocolate just.....mmm. And let me tell you he was in a black tank top and plaid pj pants. UgH he looked so good.

What do you think ZB1 would do for their S/O on Christmas? What traditions would they do with you? Would they be excited to see their S/O's family?

Bae this is late because I was sick all throughout Christmas....and now it's new years eve for me- anyways happy new year and I hope you enjoy lmao(also elaborate on this dream excuse me?)

Hanbin

He gives me the vibes that he wakes you up with breakfast and presents. He'd be so excited to see the look on your face when you open your presents. Idk why, but I get the vibes that you and Hanbin would switch between spending Christmas at his parents place and your parents place.

Jiwoong

THIS MAN SPOILS YOU WITH PRESENTS. Like you got things you didn't ask for, but wanted anyways. He reads your mind. I feel like he does all the cutesy Christmasy stuff with you. Why? Because you're his weak spot. Will do whatever you ask. Definitely Christmas dinner with yours and his family. Then he suprises you with more gifts.

Zhanghao

Christmas cupcakes. Idk why, but it makes sense. Extra nice to you in the name of holiiday cheer. He's so excited to see your family and you're excited to see his. I'm getting joint family breakfast vibes idk why. Afterwards, you go home and open your presents. Ofc Zhanghao had to spoil you, you're his lovely s/o!

Matthew

Totally watches home alone with you. Gingerbread house competitions!! Who's winning? I don't know, but loser has to smash their gingerbread house! Idk why, but he gives me decorating cookies vibes. (Maybe it's because I'm craving cookies right now) Visits each others family! It's always a fun vibe when you visit his family and he visits yours.

Taerae

Prepare to have a Christmas song sing off. No offense, but he takes it so seriously that there's no way you win. Prepare to watch mean girls. He just gives those vibes tbh. Lots of singing. The drive to either your parents or his parents, you both are just singing to the Christmas Playlist.

Ricky

Spends so much money on gifts for you. You get absolutely everything you want and more. I feel like Christmas with Ricky is just perfection. Literally whatever you want to do, you guys will do. Bake cookies? Gingerbread houses? Watch movies? Listen to Christmas songs? Whatever you wanna do you guys do.

Gyuvin

Idk why but he also gives me the vibes that he'd watch home alone with you. Also gives gingerbread house vibes. He honestly eats the icing. "Gyuv! That's to make the house stick." He's just like "Oh" One of your guy's house falls and you both end up decorating the other. He buys you the best gift tho. Takes a whole bunch of pictures of the look on your face when you open it.

Gunwook

Idk why he gives me baking with his partner vibes. Like, you guys bake cookes every Christmas I jusy know it. Lots of Christmas cuddles, lots of Christmas kisses. He spoils you tbh, so expect lots of gifts. He also gives me vibes that he gets both his and your parents lots of gifts. #ripgunwookswallet

Yujin

You guys made this thing where you open one present on Christmas Eve and then when 12am hits you open up everything else (you kids can't wait, but that's what my family does so I can't talk-) Just like Gunwooks, you try to make cookies with Yujin and well..... who knows how that goes. If baking goes well, then you guys share with his members and each others families.

[002016]

Scared of moving on, but you’re already gone...

大好きだよゼロツー

[cutethingstolove]

Back to Class

Photos and Inspiration From @little-stephanies-diary​ and @babiechristy​, Part 15

After the most amazing night’s sleep either of them had ever had, Stephanie and Courtney woke up early Monday morning dreading having to go to school. As Stephanie laid there, her arms wrapped around Courtney, Steph lowered her hand down and felt the front of Courtney’s diaper to find it surprisingly full! Courtney pretended to still be sleeping as she felt this, partly because she didn’t want to acknowledge that she was wet again and partly because she liked how Steph’s hand felt against her body. Stephanie, still thinking her friend was asleep, pulled her hand back up before shaking Courtney slightly to wake her up.

“Morning Court,” Steph said quietly, “We need to get up for school.”

“Can’t we just stay in bed,” Courtney said in a groggy voice, “Last night was so much fun, and I really don’t want to get up.”

“No,” Steph scolded, “We have to get up for school. We can’t skip; it’s only the second week of the semester!”

“Fine,” Courtney said reluctantly, “I’ll get up.”

Rolling out of the bed, Courtney stood up and could feel the weight of her soaked diaper pulling down between her legs. Normally, she would have only been wearing a Goodnite, but this bigger diaper was nice to have on as she would have probably leaked through a pullup if that was all she wore last night. She stood next to the bed for a minute waiting for Stephanie who was sneakily checking her own diaper to make sure it was dry. Once Stephanie was sure she had actually stayed dry, she crawled out of bed and suggested they go down for breakfast before changing into their school uniforms.

Courtney pulled her light blue sweatpants on over her diaper, but Stephanie didn’t bother putting on any bottoms before they headed downstairs to eat. As the girls arrived in the dining room, they found Steph’s dad already at the table having already made pancakes again for breakfast. The girls took their seats, and began taking food for themselves. It wasn’t long, however, before Steph’s dad spoke up asking the girls how their night had been.

“We had a great time!,” Stephanie piped up, “Courtney even agreed to wear one of the big diapers instead of her Goodnite!”

“Yeah,” Courtney replied quickly, “Steph even helped me put it on. I’m kid of glad I had it on cause I had another accident last night and it was a big one. I don’t think my Goodnite would have handled it.”

“Oh?,” said with a bit of surprise, “You helped her like I help you huh Steph?”

“Daddy!,” Steph nearly yelled, “Courtney didn’t know you help me!”

“I’m sorry princess,” her dad apologized, “I thought you had told her everything.”

“She didn’t tell me that,” Courtney said with a giggle, “That explains why she was so good at it!”

A little humiliated, Steph sheepishly said, “At least I stayed dry last night…”

“Well I’m proud of you honey,” her Steph’s dad said lifting her spirits, “But Courtney, an accident two nights in a row? Maybe you need potty training like Steph.”

“Very funny sir,” Courtney rebuked, “I might have had an accident last night, but I’ve never had one during the day.”

“Steph hadn’t either,” dad said, “Until last Tuesday at lunch.”

“You told me you had your accident on Monday,” Courtney squealed at Steph, “And you told me it happened during math class!”

Staring at her plate, Stephanie meekly said, “I didn’t want you to know about Tuesday’s issue. I guess I wanted you to think that today was my last day having to wear a Goodnite to school.”

Not wanting to stay at the table with all of her secrets exposed, Stephanie said she was full and sulked off to her room. When she saw Vincent on her bed, she grabbed him and hugged him tightly while pouting a little. This was probably the most humiliated she had felt since the nurse had told her that her best option was to wear a diaper after she wet her panties in class a week earlier. Figuring that it was too late now, however, she pulled out her computer and  hopped onto her bed to check some of her favorite websites while waiting for Courtney to finish eating.

Meanwhile, back in the dining room, Steph’s dad asked Courtney a bit more seriously if she thought a week of potty training might be needed. Courtney asked what it would entail, and Steph’s dad laid out the week of wearing pullups during the day and bigger diapers at night. Courtney thought about it for a couple minutes while eating her pancakes before responding that it wasn’t the worst idea in the world. She did really like how the bigger diaper felt while she was sleeping, and she was already used to wearing a Goodnite every night anyway so it wouldn’t be too hard to wear one during the day. She agreed that Steph’s dad could call her parents and tell them about it, and where to buy the bigger diapers. She had just finished eating and stood up from the table walking through the kitchen when she turned around, pulled down the front of her sweats, and raised a finger to her lip to signal that she didn’t want her secret to be known.

Courtney made her way back upstairs to Steph’s room and filled her friend in on how she was going to be doing ‘potty training’ too. Stephanie was taken aback at hearing this, but realized it might not be so bad knowing that her friend was going to be going through the same thing she was. She thought it would be especially nice to have someone at school to talk about this with. Stephanie explained what she had been doing to keep her pullups hidden, how the nurse had extra diapers in case she had an accident during school, and even told her how cute the bunny diapers that the nurse had were. Courtney actually really enjoyed hearing all about the process, and was a little excited for it to begin!

Stephanie stood up from the bed and headed to the bathroom to change out of her big diaper and into a Goodnite for the day. When she was done with this somewhat normal routine, she went back to her room in just her t-shirt and pullup. As she entered the room, Courtney asked why Stephanie never seemed too concerned with wearing bottoms in case her dad might see her. Steph explained that she didn’t really worry about it since they lived alone and her dad wasn’t a creep. She even said that her dad probably would mind if Courtney walked around in just a diaper.

Feeling a little emboldened, Courtney took the opportunity and took off her sweatpants and socks before throwing them in her duffle bag. Still a bit scared, but wanting to seem confident, she strutted across the hallway to the bathroom to change in just her diaper and a gray sweatshirt that she had tossed on because she was cold. When she was in the bathroom, she saw herself in the mirror in her soaked diaper, and a little curious to se how much it could hold, she let her bladder loose. It was actually holding quite a lot, until Courtney started to feel something wet running down her leg. Realizing that these could hold quite a lot of pee, they weren’t leak-proof. She sank to the floor a little embarrassed at the mess she had made in her friend’s house.

Knowing she was running late for school, she quickly pulled of her wet diaper and tossed it I the trash. She grabbed a couple of the Goodnites that were stashed under the sink, pulling one on herself and using the other to clean up the puddle on the floor. Once she was satisfied that she had captured every drop, she tossed the wet Goodnite in the trash on top of her soaked diaper from the night before. She strutted across the hallway again to find Stephanie  buttoning up her shirt, her stockings, garter and Goodnite on display. Courtney grabbed a spare uniform from the closet and raced to change as realized how far behind she was.

After the girls were both dressed, they headed downstairs to walk to their bus stop. Steph’s dad stopped them and asked them to show that they were both wearing their Goodnites. Compliantly, both girls raised their skirts showing off their pullups both giggling a little. After an approving nod, the girls left the house and start walking to the bus stop. As they walked, their hands frequently brushing, they talked bout how fun their weekend had been and that they should have sleepovers more often. The bus pulled up right as they arrived, and the girls found a seat near the front and sat down next to each other giggling non-stop.

 To Be Continued…

[trashyforashy]

Moving Along

Luke Hemmings x Reader

•

Thinking 'bout you lots lately

Have you been eating breakfast alone like me?

Thinking 'bout you lots lately

Is it bad that I'm hoping that you're broken?

Is it bad that I'm wishing you're still broken?

That you haven't found fish in the ocean

Is it bad, so bad

Is it weird that I'm drunken on my sofa?

Is it weird that I'm naked on my sofa?

All alone, damn, I wish I didn't know ya

Is it weird, so weird

•

*Luke's POV*

I let out another sigh while trying to pick which bottle to drink from tonight. This was how my nights went now. After recording in the studio, it was straight back here to drink away the pain.

My phone went off, alerting me to a new notification. I immediately know it's from Y/N's Instagram since she's the only person I have notifications set up for.

I feel my spirits get even lower when I see the pic of her in a beautiful dress, walking on the street with the caption "Good times, here I come 😉". She is absolutely glowing in the picture, looking quite happy by her smile.

I walk over and sit on my sofa, taking another sip of the bottle of vodka I decided on while staring at her profile.

She still hadn't gotten a new boyfriend, maybe because she was still as broken as me about the break up?

Pictures can be staged, she can look happy but in reality, be sad. God knows I've depended on that for the past few months. "Damn it." I mutter out while throwing my phone beside me, I really needed to move on.

Sometimes I wish I didn't know her so I wouldn't be in this position, naked and drunk on my sofa, wondering about her.

Before I can think twice I pick up my phone again and send a text, one that I should never have sent.

"Hey Y/N.....Can you come over?"

[amazingmaeve]

Babe ↠ Draco Malfoy

━ “i deserve better. i deserve someone who loves me.”

summary ━ y/n and draco had an arrange marriage ever since they got out of hogwarts. y/n thought that they would learn to love each other at least for her. y/n also catches him cheating more than once but he always has an excuse.

warnings ━ cheating, angst, fluff, eating disorder, social anxiety

a/n ━ babe by sugarland feat. taylor swift

word count ━ 3.5k

“You may now kiss the bride,” The priest says closing the bible.

Draco leans in and kisses Y/N while wrapping his hands around her cheeks. She on the other hand wrapped her arms around his neck kissing him back.

Even though this was one of the biggest days for Y/N she knew Draco didn’t want to kiss her. That he didn’t want to marry her.

Y/N’s parents and Draco's parents made an arrangement that they would get married. The two had no say. She thought she would grow feelings before the wedding and she did. But Y/N also thought Draco would be able to stand to be around her, but that wasn’t the case.

While trying to get to know Draco, Y/N tried everything. Doing things that peak his interest but it always ended with him snapping at her to leave him alone.

Y/N understood in the beginning. He didn’t want to get married neither did she. But Y/N dealt with that face that she had to do it.

She caught feelings fast since she’s had a crush on him ever since hogwarts. But she didn’t have the guts to do anything while at school and always felt sad when she saw him with Parkinson.

In Hogwarts Y/N wasn’t exactly known. She just tried keeping to herself so she didn’t bother anyone. She had one friend though. Rose, someone that kept by her side for everything, even the marriage.

For the rest of that night Draco didn’t even speak to Y/N. Nor did he look at her. She tried to keep smiling so people would think she’s happy.

And on the wedding night Y/N lost her virginity. It wasn’t everything everyone loved it up to be. It did hurt though and she thought Draco had the decency to stay and comfort her but she was wrong again.

Draco left the bed soon after to go to his study to do god knows what leaving Y/N alone. She wrapped the blanket around her naked body trying to get warm. Draco didn’t even seem to care about asking if she was fine.

She rested her head on the pillow letting a few tears fall out before squeezing her eyes shut. Y/N would not cry over Draco. She would not let herself be heartbroken.

But it didn’t stop the way she felt about him.

Y/N kept the perfect wife image up. Cooking and cleaning for him but he didn’t even seem to appreciate the food she cooked as he never even thanked her.

At nights he would silently come into bed late while Y/N wondered where he had been. She shook the thoughts out of her head trying to go to sleep.

The first of many arguments they had was a big one.

“Draco I’m tired of being treated like crap,” Y/N snapped putting her hands on her hips. Draco glared at her.

“I don’t care, I didn’t even want to marry you,” He screamed, throwing his arms up in the air out of frustration.

“You think I did,” Y/N chuckles out of amusements.

“I. Don’t. Care. You’re just one of those needy wives always want to be around their husbands, who are annoyed by them,” Draco slowly snapped at Y/N. She felt tears threaten to escape as she looked at the ground.

Y/N nodded continuing to chop up the vegetables for the food she was making. When she looked up she swore she saw some cult floating in his eye but she ignored puttering attention on the meal.

When food was done they ate in silence. Y/N finished first and went to go work on a painting she started before Draco got home.

Y/N got ready for bed an hour later putting her nightgown on and brushed her hair. She used a wipe to take the makeup off and finally went to lay down.

Draco returned to bed a couple minutes later slowly waking in. In reality Draco felt bad for treating her that way. It wasn’t her fault they got married so why’s he taking it out on her? He ponders as he takes his tie off and then the rest of his clothes.

He got his pajama pants on and climbed into bed laying down behind Y/N who was facing the wall. Draco wrapped his arm around Y/N spooning. The contact made her jump out of surprise, Draco had never even touched her at night.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” Draco apologized. “I know it’s not your fault and shouldn’t take it out on you,” He states.

“Can we at least try to be a married couple please,” Y/N begged, wanting him to care about her. He did but he didn’t want to show his feelings to her.

“We can try love,” He promises putting his face in the crook of her neck leaving a kiss there before falling back on the pillow behind him. He kept his arm around her as they both fell asleep.

Maybe this could work out. Y/N thought before she fell asleep.

Everything seems to be fine for the next few months. Draco was finally warming Y/N and starting talking and spending time with her. And she couldn’t be even more happy.

He seemed more happy now and now she was happy and that’s all that mattered.

“So how are you and Draco,” Rose asks, taking a sip of her tea. Rose was over at Draco and Y/N’s house for some girl time with her.

“Everything seems better ever since we had that talk a few months ago. Everything seems to be going fine,” Y/N says happily as she takes a sip of her tea after she finishes talking. It was true Draco seemed like he at least cared about her now.

“That’s good I was worried that he was going to break your heart but I guess I was wrong,” Rose shrugs putting the cup down looking at Y/N.

“I had that feeling too but it subsided when he realized what an ass he was,” Y/N replies, grabbing the tea cups and putting them in the sink so she could wash them later.

“That’s great Y/N. I’m so happy for you,” Rose smiles at how happy her friends seemed to be now.

Rose soon left after a few more conversations and she started to get dinner ready. She put the noodles in the bowl as she was making spaghetti. When the dinner was almost done Draco came in the house happily whistling to himself.

“I’M HOME LOVE,” Draco yelled as he took his jacket off and walked to the kitchen where Y/N was preparing the table.

“Hey love,” Y/N greeted as she ran over to him and planted a kiss on his lips. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she smelt some perfume.

“What’s wrong sweetheart,” Draco asked worriedly.

“Nothing,” Y/N lied leaning her head against his chest, his heartbeat calming her down and her suspicions as well.

Draco rested his chin on her head letting out a content sigh. He felt happy right now even though he did something that could ruin their relationship a few hours ago.

Meanwhile Y/N let go of Draco and went to put the spaghetti on plates. He sat down at the head of the table and she sat down next to him eating the spaghetti neatly.

“How was your day love,” Draco asked after swallowing some of the food. He grabbed the napkin and wiped his face.

“It was good Rose came over and we had some girl time,” Y/N replies with a smile looking up at Draco. He put his hand on hers which was on the table. He massages the top of her hand with the pad of his thumb.

“That’s good love,” Draco replies satisfied with her response. “You need to get out more,” He took a drink of wine after he finished the sentence.

“I know,” Y/N sighed looking at the plate of half eaten food. Her stomach grumbles for more but her head didn’t want it. She knew that she should get out more and make new friends but Y/N gets social anxiety when she talks to people she doesn’t know.

She also has a problem with her eating habits. Y/N tends not to eat when she thinks she’s gaining too much weight. Most people would say that’s wrong, you shouldn’t do that but Y/N doesn’t listen to them, only the voice in her head saying she isn’t right for Draco.

“I just hate talking to new people, Draco,” Y/N grumbles, putting her fork down.

“I know how bout this you come with me to a party that I’m planning,” Draco asks, putting his elbows on the table and wringing his hands together.

“I don’t know,” Y/N says doubtfully.

“I’ll be with you the whole time love,” Draco reassures by putting his hand on her thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“Fine but I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay all night,” Y/N agrees reluctantly. Draco gives her a big grin making her smile at him. As long Dracos by her side everything will be fine.

The party was in two weeks which gave Y/N the time to find a dress. Rose helped her with that.

In those two weeks Draco has been really suspicious. He came home really late and when he was home he spent most of his time in his study. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t talk to her. Usually at dinner and during breakfast.

When he did come home he reeked of perfume. And not hers. But Dracos probably has a lot of women with his job; this doesn’t mean anything. She keeps reminding herself also that Draco loves her and would never cheat on her.

Y/N hasn’t brought this up because she was certain that nothing was going on. But what if something did? She couldn’t get divorced since her parents would also disown her. Y/N would be stranded.

Now she shook the ideas out of her head putting her earrings on. She looked at herself in the mirror with a smile. She had put some makeup on and her dress. Y/N looked at herself all dolled up with a smile. A real smile.

Draco came behind her and put his hands on her arms and kissed her neck.

“You look beautiful love,” He whispered in her ear, making shivers go down her spine.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Y/N giggles, turning around to put her hands on the lapels of his suit jacket.

She presses her lips against his and he hesitates for a second but Y/N misses that. He moves his hands to her hip and gives them a squeeze while Y/N moves her hands to his neck.

“I love you darling,” Draco whispers against her lips.

“I love you too,” Y/N repeats her heart skipping a bit at the notations.

The two had a mansion that was big. They got it from their families. Only 50 people would be at this party since the party room.

Y/N takes a sigh as Draco takes her hand and leads her down the stairs where the faint hum of music is played. People are dancing and having fun with one another.

Draco gives her a squeeze to reassure that everything will be fine. They both walk to the bar where only a couple people were.

Y/N ordered herself some while Draco ordered some bourbon. The two chatted about their days and or weeks. Y/N soon forgot people were even there as she sat comfortably with her husband having a good time.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Draco blurted out and before Y/N could even say something he was running off to the restroom.

Y/N sighed taking a sip of the wine. Draco would be back soon she reminded herself. She felt lucky people didn’t talk to her since she probably would’ve stuttered herself out of it.

Draco hadn’t returned after 25 minutes and Y/N was starting to get worried that her husband had passed out. Or he lost his way to her by talking to the party guests.

She tapped her painted nail against the hardwood of the bar table. She was starting to get nervous and her heart was beating fast. Y/N let out a breath trying to calm down and it worked but that didn’t stop her worry for Draco.

Y/N had enough and grabbed her purse, walking around the room she would be running if it wasn’t the heels that were ruining her feet. She decided to see if he was in the bathroom and fast walked over there.

She put her hand up to knock on the hardwood just in case someone was in there. But she stopped when she heard something.

“Draco,” Y/N heard somebody moan as she heard heavy breathing on the other side of the door.

It felt like time froze for Y/N. Maybe she got it wrong but she knew, she knew that Draco was cheating on her.

She sighed as she walked back to the bar with tears brimming her eyes. She sat down on the stool as the bartender noticed her sad look and poured her glass.

Y/N let out a sad sigh taking a drink and another and another. After about 3 drinks she felt the effects of the alcohol coming. She laid her arms on the table and buried her face in them.

She wanted to sob. She wanted to let it all out right now. But she couldn’t do it right not in front of so many people. Y/N could tell people were leaving since there were only a few more people left.

“Y/N love are you okay,” Draco worriedly asked, putting his hands on her back as he noticed how drunk she was.

She jumped at the contact and nodded her head but not lifting it. Draco’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion since she barely got drunk and when she did it was only when he was there.

Draco lifted her from the table to see a few tears rolling down her cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumb.

“What happened,” He asked confused and worried.

“Just got overwhelmed with everything,” Y/N lied pinching the bridge of her nose. She didn’t want to divorce Draco; she loved him so much. And plus her parents would disown her, leaving her all on her own.

“Come on love the parties over let’s go to bed,” Draco grabbed her waist and wrapped his arm around it. She let him help her to their shared room where he sat her down.

Y/N gave him a fake smile to reassure him everything was fine. Luckily he believed it. Draco went to the bathroom to undress himself while Y/N undressed herself on the bed.

No one was here except for the house elves who were probably sleeping. She helped out the elves not wanting to hurt them like her parents did. She thought they deserved to be treated with some respect.

Y/N got her nightgown on and laid her head down on the pillow. She didn’t even feel anything towards it. She just felt numb.

When Draco exited the bathroom she closed her eyes pretending to be asleep. Draco laid next to her putting his arm around her and pressing a kiss to her neck.

“Love you,” He whispered. Yeah right she thought. She kept the tears inside til Draco fell asleep.

She let the tears fall on the pillow as she sobbed silently. Why would draco lie to her and tell her loved her when he was fucking someone else. No wonder why he hasn’t slept with her in a few weeks.

She wanted to believe Draco was good. But she kept seeing Draco with this mystery woman. All Y/N knows is that she would never cheat on Draco even on her worst day.

Y/N eventually fell asleep after some crying and shoving the thoughts away.

The next morning Draco wasn’t there and left her a note saying that he had to go to work early. Y/N bit her lip to stop her from crying. She wondered even if he was going to work.

Y/N got dressed and went to go cook herself some breakfast to get her mind off the situation.

This happened for the next week. Draco left early and came home late leaving Y/N crying herself to sleep wondering what she did wrong. Luckily she fell asleep before he got home. And the situation repeated itself over and over.

Y/N was lucky since she really didn’t want to see Draco since if she did she would probably break down crying.

One day Draco woke up the same time she did. Y/N talked trying to convince him he didn’t know anything. Draco gave her sweet smiles and said they should schedule a lunch date which Y/N nodded reluctantly.

She couldn’t help but feel giddy as she got ready in a cute outfit. Still the sadness lurked around her head but she pushed them back so she could have fun with Draco.

Y/N was welcomed into his workplace and she opened his office door slowly with a smile. But frowned when she looked through the creek of the door.

She saw Draco and Astoria kissing. She was on the desk while he was standing up. Of course Astoria.

She was Dracos girlfriend before he broke up with her for the wedding. Y/N thought he was over her since he told her he loved her. Was it all a lie?

Her lip trembled as she closed the door and ran out the building. Tears cascading down her cheeks as people gave her weird looks. When she was out of the office she put her hand on her mouth to keep the sobs in.

Still the sobs kept coming.

Astoria was everything Y/N wanted to be. She had a good job, good friends and she had Draco's heart and Y/N reminded herself of that.

She was so stupid to believe that his feelings changed so fast. So stupid. Was it just a joke to him?

Still crying Y/N walked to Roses flat wanting to seek some comfort from someone and that person would be Rose. She felt bad for not calling her friend for the last week.

“Y/N,” Rose exclaimed, surprised seeing her best friend at her door with tears running down her cheeks. “C’mere love,” She whispered knowing something was wrong.

Rose helped Y/N to the couch and sat her down while she went to go make some tea to calm her down. Y/N was still trembling from the crying and Rose was worried about her friend.

Once Y/N calmed down she explained everything to Rose. Hearing Draco fucking Astoria and her catching them kiss in the office. She told her all about the suspicions before she even knew she was cheating.

“I always knew he was a backstabbing cheater,” Rose snapped angrily at Draco for breaking her friend's heart. “You have to divorce him,” She advised Y/N.

“No I can’t my parents will disown me and I’ll have nowhere to go,” Y/N rambled, putting her face in her hands.

“Come live with me,” Rose offered, finishing her tea and putting it down.

“You’d do that for me,” Y/N asked, surprised looking up from her hands.

“Yes you’re my best friend now go and dump that piece of shit,” Rose grabbed her friend's hand pulling her up.

“Fine I’ll go do that and I guess I’ll come back at night,” Y/N sighed, getting her bag and running off.

When Y/N got to his house now, she packed all of her stuff and waited in her bed room for Draco to show up. She cried silently wondering what she did wrong.

He finally did after two hours. She was still crying when he entered the bedroom with a confused look on his face.

“Darling what’s wrong,” He asked concerned

“Why’d you do it,” Y/N sniffed standing up crossing her arms across her middle. Draco sighed realizing what she had found out.

“You know,” Draco says nonchalantly.

“Yes I just want to know why,” She whimpered a bit out as tears silently came out.

“I love her,” Draco admitted looking at his feet. He still cared for Y/N and he didn’t want to hurt her but he loved Astoria. “I love Astoria.”

Y/N nodded biting her lip to keep herself from sobbing and falling to her knees. She grabbed her bags as Draco grabbed her arm looking down at her.

“I’m sorry love,” Draco says sorrowfully.

“I deserve better. I deserve someone who loves me,” Y/N snaps crossing her arms over her chest.

“I know and I’m sorry again,” Draco pinches the bridge of his nose frustrated.

“Yeah I’m sorry too,” She snapped glaring at him through her tears. “I’m sorry I even agreed to marry a snake like you,” She walked out slamming the door, making him flinch.

Y/N sighed as the cool air hit her face. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest. She didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

She didn’t have to deal with the pain anymore.

[rayofsunas]

baby daddy | kaeya [2]

A/n: so already, in the first five minutes of me beginning to write tumblr decided to delete stuff again, so that’s pretty swag ;-; but nonetheless, I’m alright lmao, I’ve been super happy this week ever since I pulled xiao AND mona after wanting to give up plsss. also, I can’t exactly remember if I gave Klara a age in the last part, so I would just like to clarify that she’s one lol. anyways, here’s part two and I hope you guys enjoy!! it took me four hours to write this

Summary: kaeya wants to set a good example for his children, naturally. so he’s given up a lot of things, one being his excessive drinking. but being a knight is hard, despite how nonchalant he seems and he finds himself slipping sometimes… when you find out about it, you’re less than happy and decide spending time with the children would be a good idea for him. he’s more than happy to spend time with the three little monsters, but, he never realized what a normal day was for you when taking care of them.

Parings: Kaeya/Fem! Reader

Warnings: children, fluff, reader and kaeya are mid 20s, alcohol, Klara and Katheryne are friends because I said so, stan Katheryne she helps us so much-

Word count: 2.3k

The sun was slowly but surely rising, leaving beautiful orange and yellow hues to paint the usually bright blue sky, and Kaeya couldn’t be happier. Unlike the last couple of days, he’d been able to wake up, eat a quiet breakfast with you before the kids woke up though he tried and successfully tried to flirt his way into your already claimed heart, and then when Klara woke up, he got the chance to contently feed the wailing little girl; something he shockingly missed. 

Even if at that moment, the tears and cries were a lot more than he could handle, he was more than happy to do something too trivial, just because he was spending more time with her. And unlike the other days, he’d been able to take her for her morning walk, before he’d have to report to headquarters.

Most citizens were still asleep, though very few could be seen preparing for the days work, a few stall owners he noted, as he held Klara’s tiny chubby hand and helped her walk through the town, though she greatly seemed to like speed, already worlds ahead with her mobility. 

“Slow down, my little Mist Flower.” She was moving as fast as her little legs could take her, straight towards Katheryne who sometimes gave the little girl trinkets, saying adventurers had brought back things they didn’t wish to keep or had no use for. Even if Klara couldn’t really speak, she knew little things, “Thank you” was one of them, so she was always grateful despite not knowing exactly what they were. And although Katheryne seemed to not be human, some sort of machine with a very robot-like tone, she also made sure to let little Klara know how happy she was to give the youngest Alberich little trinkets. 

“Good morning, Katheryne.” Kaeya called, grinning when his daughter’s eyes widened at the mention of the kind receptionist. As the pair approached the young woman, Klara yanked on her father's white cloak, instructing him to lift her into his arms, so she could get a better look, and Katheryne, usually behind the tall wooden counter.

“Oh- good morning, Captain Kaeya!” The woman exclaimed, eyes lighting up when she saw the little girl she adored very much. “And little Klara, good morning.” She was happy to see the pair well, seeing as though she hadn’t seen Klara in days. 

“Hi, Kat...” Klara whispered with a shy smile, Katheryne smiled even more because of the use of the nickname she’d been given.

She was just the most adorable little girl ever, Katheryne couldn’t help but think. 

All three Alberich children were the sweetest, though obviously, Klara had a sweet place in her heart especially. Adrien was an identical copy of you, sarcastic, very stubborn, but very respectable for such a young age. And Elena was a smart cookie, a young girl who enjoyed questioning and correct everyone and everything that she came across. Lastly, little Klara, who had much growing to do was the pride and joy of the large Alberich family. Everyone adored her and she continuously swayed hearts wherever she went, just her cute curiosity alone was enough to bring a smile to even Wagner’s face, who typically seemed grumpy. 

Katheryne felt very lucky to have met them in this lifetime, they were a gift from the Archons, truly. Everyone knew Katheryne as the Adventurer Guild's Receptionist but to Klara? She was Kat, a generous friend who gave her gifts. 

Though a sad frown graced the young woman's lips, Kaeya ever so observantly caught on, something was wrong.

“I’m very saddened to say this, but I’m afraid there aren’t any new trinkets suitable enough for little Klara today...” Yes indeed was the receptionist saddened, evident by every feature on her face. “There’s been a shortage it seems of adventurers and travelers willing to take the commissions.” The brunette stated.

“Why is this?” The Cavalry Captain questioned, silently huffing when the one-year-old attached to his hip kept chewing on his white fur cloak, closest to his neck. Great, another issue added to the mix. Maybe she had begun teething again? Archons, Kaeya really felt as though he’d missed so much, seeing as though he couldn’t remember the last time his youngest daughter had teethed or even if she'd stopped entirely together. In short, he probably hadn’t been there for that either, courtesy of his position and job. 

“From my understanding, there have been more hoards of monsters, and something about a mutation as well,” Noted Katheryne, watching as the curiosity built upon the man's features. “Would you like to take a few of the commissions? To show Acting Grand Master Jean?”

The part bout there being an abundance of monsters did sound familiar, he’d been hearing about that a lot recently, but mutated forms as well? That was new... He’d have to bring that up today at the briefing, maybe Jean would know more than he currently did. 

“None of that will be necessary. I’m heading there now, after I drop Klara off back home, I’ll just forward the information to her personally.” Katheryne nodded, seemingly getting sidetracked and entranced by the bright violet-eyed toddler staring at her, with her father's white fur cloak still in her mouth. 

Adorable. 

She still couldn’t help but feel bad though. The only trinkets that had been brought back from any scarce, but recent missions were partially damaged swords waiting for Wagner to fix or scrap into new materials.

Such a thing did not belong in the hands of a child, nonetheless the ever so gentle Klara Alberich, she was too sweet for this world to be handed a complimentary sword, even if she had heard Kaeya say the countless amount of times that he wanted to eventually teach each of the children how to use a sword, preferring to start earlier, rather than later. And from Katheryne’s overheard? She now knew it had been somewhat of a topic of discussion between you and Kaeya, causing mini spouts of anger and frustration. 

Archons, how she wishes she had something suitable to give the little girl...

Katheryne nervously fidgeted. “Oh and about the trinkets-”

The usual daily gifts Kaetheryne would give to Klara, were absent today. Due to one big factor; adventurers and travelers weren’t taking commissions, therefore, they weren’t bringing back what Katheryne saw as unique finds, but they claimed to have no use for.

“No worries,” He was more worried about the fact that adventurers weren’t taking commissions instead of the usual trinkets Katheryne would give his daughter, nonetheless he offered reassurance. It really was no big deal.

Kaeya indeed was something else entirely, Katheryne concluded. A mind reader, some sort of witch- just different. How had he known without her even saying anything?

She was stunned for quite some time, though still feeling guilty despite his supposed reassurance. The guilt partially stemmed from the fact that Klara was staring so intently at her, with big blue-purple-hued eyes, unknowingly being one of the main stressors of Katheryne’s guilt... 

“Klara has too many nicknacks anyways,” You and Kaeya were sure she’d be some kind of trinket collector when she was older, seeing as though she had so many already. “Y/n says you spoil her.” Kaeya’s statement almost sounded like he was scolding her, but if not for the grin and chuckle he offered that immediately followed, she wouldn’t have known he was being entirely playful. 

“That is not my intention. She’s just so adorable, I cannot stop myself,” Kaeya laughed, glancing down at the toddler. She was adorable, his little Mist Flower.

“If it bother you or Miss Y/n, I’ll-”

“It’s quite alright, Katheryne, no need to worry,” Kaeya announced smoothly, dramatically waving his hand to show he was dismissing her statements of protest and concern.

“Alright...”

Eventually, Kaeya did take his leave, much to Katheryne’s dismay. She’d probably see Klara tomorrow, if he stayed true to his schedule, so she remained hopeful and excited for tomorrow. 

Before he knew it, Kaeya was bringing Klara home, giving you and Elena - who was now awake - hugs and kisses, telling you both to let Adrien know he loved him and that he’d return soon - he was still asleep. And then just like that Kaeya was out the door again and off to headquarters.

-

No one expected him to be at the Cat’s Tail this late at night, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected nor rare by any means, he was a familiar face after all. 

It was unexpected because Kaeya claimed he had given up the incessant and excessive drinking years ago when his firstborn, Adrien graced Teyvat. Sadly, it was expected, because it seemed he’d been in here more in the last week than in the last few years... Though, patrons who often visited the tavern were all betting on the fact that you were entirely clueless to how much he’d been drinking; they were right. You were too busy taking care of the children and training to hopefully join the Knights again, to even keep up with your husband's drinking habits. So, it went unnoticed. 

Diluc though, who was often at the tavern, noticed it unlike you. Kaeya had been a great pretender, a great spy; good at keeping secrets, but when he had secrets, somehow Diluc always found himself finding out first, if not second, closely behind you. And unfortunately - Diluc thought - he was on the more personal spectrum concerning the certain Knight... He was his brother, your brother in law, an uncle... He disliked what Kaeya was doing, greatly. Especially since it felt as though his idiotic brother was going behind his family's back. No, he hadn’t promised to quit entirely, but he’d made it seem that way to you. Probably a fabrication so you wouldn’t worry... 

Diluc should’ve known he'd find himself back here again, trying to get his once again, idiotic brother, to leave and go home. The pyro user couldn’t understand. His brother had everything he didn’t. A beautifully devoted wife, three amazingly easy children, a status many simple Knights and Guards would kill for; Captain. And he’d rather risk it all for a drink or two, maybe three.

You thought nothing of it. Kaeya was out late a lot, more often than not patrol and paperwork held him from returning home, but on the rare occasions that he had a sliver of free time that wasn’t spent with you and the kids, he was drinking. 

You always knew when he wouldn’t be returning, in the form of a letter from Kaeya, stating he was alright but would be staying to do paperwork, etc. It would be brought by one of his underlings, Knights or Guards in training. But when that letter never came, you panicked. 

Was he alright? He never forgot to write... Maybe he was held up?

Thankfully, Lisa had decided to come over for tea earlier and had still been here trying her best to reassure you, after seeing how worried you’d been after not receiving any letter. 

“You should probably return home, I’ll be alright.” You kept reassuring the librarian, though she wasn’t falling for it. She could practically feel the stress and anxiety oozing off of you, it was concerning. 

You could only be thankful Amber had been busy and couldn’t come over for tea or else she would’ve ripped Kaeya a new one when she got ahold of him. He’d never be able to leave for missions again, without getting a reminder from Amber to reach out or else...

“Darling, I’m not leaving until he returns.” She took your hands in hers, hoping to offer you comfort. Lisa had always been there for you, which you were very thankful

She had no prior experience with children, though she was incredible with your own. You figured because she was one of the older members of the Knights of Favonius, she had taken more of a big sister role and the youngers looked up to her wisdom. Though she wasn’t much older than you, only by five or six years, so she was really like an older sister towards you as well. Lisa was a very kind woman, you appreciated her tons.

“Maybe I should go find him? I could ask around...”

“Please don’t stress, Y/n,” Lisa said. “You’re too beautiful to stress. I trust that he’ll be here soon.”

Lisa was in fact right. Kaeya returned soon after she had said he would. Master Diluc knocked on the door close to midnight, hanging off his arm was your drunk husband. When you saw him slumped on his brother's shoulder, you immediately assumed the worst. Maybe he’d been physically harmed. You were under the impression he had stopped drinking. 

But then, when you allowed Diluc to step further into the house, you got a huge waft of what you quickly recognized as alcohol. Surprisingly enough for Diluc, you didn’t yell, instead, you just stared at Kaeya with disappointment, gravitating towards him to try and take him from his brother's arms. 

“Thank you Diluc, I’m sorry you had to deal with this so late.”

The Ragnivndr wanted to scold his brother, for making a fool of himself and you, leaving you worried and disappointed. But, using better judgment, Diluc just nodded and offered an understanding and apology, on behalf of his out of it brother. 

“It’s quite alright, I-”

“I’m sorry he had to come home this way,” Diluc stated, glaring at the taller man.

You hummed, helping Kaeya stumble into your living room, both Lisa and Diluc watching with worried gazes from the door. “Don’t worry, I’m just glad he’s safe.”

Diluc once again, realized his idiotic brother did not deserve you or your kindness and understanding. He was one lucky man, that was for sure.

[🏷] TAGLIST (if you want to be removed from/added to this specific taglist let me know!)

@gladly-olus , @kyquu , @craptainlou , @mintydump , @chscklvr , @irisxiel , @minh0ree​

2.10.21, rayofsunas

[cuddlepilefics]

Lemon Tea

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Jisung

Caregiver: Minho

Prompt: 'Vitamin C' @sicktember

No one's POV.:

When Jisung came home late in the evening after a few grueling hours of vocal training, his throat was on fire. He had certainly taken it a bit too far and really should've stopped at least an hour ago. Dinner was already on the table and his members had only been waiting for him to come home. He greeted them quietly waving and smiled when Chan put a plate in front of him. The others weren't really surprised that he remained silent during their meal. They knew what he had been working on and had already expected him to rest his voice as much as possible afterwards. "How did it go?", Minho asked, when they cleared the table. Jisung smiled and gave his hyung a thumbs up, grabbing the first plate. The two were in charge of doing the dishes that evening, so Minho got a tea towel and took the clean dish from the younger to dry it off. Clearing his throat, Jisung hummed: "Tell me 'bout your day, hyung. I can't really speak but I'd like to hear your voice." That made the dancer smile and he started to talk about the choreography he was working on with Hyunjin and Felix. They had had lots of fun, despite their practice being exhausting, which made Jisung happy. He loved the way his hyung's eyes sparkled when he talked about dancing or his cats. The older always resembled a child at Christmas when talking about those topics and Jisung found it adorable.

They finished the dishes and Jisung went to take a shower, already starting to feel sleepy. He'd probably go to bed soon after washing up, despite it not being late at all yet. With how sleepy he was, his shower turned out a lot longer than he had originally planned. The warm water washing away the tension of the day, the rapper relaxed and closed his eyes. He was lucky, the others had already showered either in the morning or immediately after their dance practice, so there was nobody waiting for him to finish. Jisung took his time and got ready for bed after. Chan was a bit confused that the younger completely disappeared after dinner, as Jisung wasn't usually one to go to bed early. Deciding to check on his dongsaeng, the leader made his way to the rapper's room and was surprised to find him already in his bed. Although the lights were off already, Jisung still had his headphones on and startled when the mattress dipped on one side. Blinking, he removed his headphones and looked at Chan questioningly. "Sorry for scaring you, I just wanted to see how you're doing. It isn't usually like you to go to bed early", the Aussie hummed. Jisung gave a small smile and whispered: "Is fine. I'm doing alright, today was just exhausting and I feel like I have no energy at all. Probably won't even sleep anytime soon, just, y'know listen to music for a while." – "Alright, rest well. Want me to get you some water for your throat?", Chan offered, getting up. Though the rapper declined, he still returned to his room a few minutes later and placed a water bottle on Jisung's nightstand before going to his own room to work on some music.

Jisung woke up about an hour before his alarm. He felt a lot worse than he had the previous evening and wasn't so sure he had only strained his voice. Sure, his throat still hurt but so did his head. Although he had fallen asleep exceptionally early, he still felt drained, like the hours of sleep hadn't refilled his energy in the slightest. Knowing he had some time to spare, Jisung padded into the kitchen and made himself some tea. He got comfortable on the couch, scrolling through social media while sipping his tea. The rapper was slowly falling back to sleep on the couch when the first few members woke up from their alarms. First were Minho and Seungmin, who wanted to start making breakfast but stopped in their tracks when they noticed Jisung. After nodding at Seungmin to start already, Minho went over to the couch and sat down beside his dongsaeng. The rapper's eyes fluttered open and looked at Minho confused. The last time he checked, he had been alone. Where had his hyung come from all of a sudden? "Good morning. What are you doing up already?", the dancer asked quietly, smiling at his confused dongsaeng. Jisung scrubbed at his face and gave a soft cough before replying huskily: "Woke up early. Ugh, I can't talk, my voice is shot." – "Yeah, you really seem to have overdone it yesterday but I see you already made yourself some tea", Minho clicked his tongue, knowing they were supposed to record something today, which he certainly wouldn't with how bad he sounded right now.

"Hyung, does my forehead feel hot?", Jisung asked out of nowhere just as Minho was about to join Seungmin in the kitchen. Brushing his bangs back, the dancer rested his palm on Jisung's forehead and frowned: "You do feel a little warm to me. Do you think you're sick?" – "Dunno, my head hurts an' I'm so tired although I went to bed early", the rapper shrugged, sitting up. For a moment, he felt lightheaded and had to take a few deep breaths before he felt ready to get up. Minho watched him with worry as they walked to the kitchen to make breakfast. "Sung, if you think you might be coming down with something, this is probably not a good idea", Minho whispered, aware of how quick illnesses spread with so many people living in such close vicinity. Defeated, Jisung nodded. He knew the older was right and he was truly suspecting, there was something more going on than just him straining himself. The rapper went to his room to get ready, passing the other members, who went to eat breakfast. Jisung himself wasn't hungry, so he decided to just sit on his bed after getting dressed and wait for the rest of the group to finish. At some point, he must have gone to sleep again.

When all members except for Jisung sat at the breakfast table. Minho handed each one of them a large glass of orange juice. Earning a few odd looks, he sighed: "Jisung's coming down with a cold, so we're all loading up on vitamin c. It should boost our immune system, so we won't catch it." – "Sung's sick? We were all going to record today", Chan frowned, glancing in the direction of their bedrooms. "Not sure if he's sick enough to stay back at the dorm but he's certainly in no shape to record anything. That boy barely has any voice left", Minho explained. Already mentally rescheduling their recordings, Chan nodded, cracking a smile when Seungmin gave his glass a distasteful frown. "Hyung, you're being ridiculous. I don't know how much actual orange is in this and it probably won't do much except for attack our teeth", the vocalist cringed. The look he received from Minho was enough to convince the rest of the group to just drink it, as the dancer threatened: "Yah! Listen to hyung or die of his plague, I couldn't care less."

When they were done with breakfast, Chan went to Jisung's room to check on the sick rapper, finding him knocked out on his bed. He seemed ready to head out but had fallen asleep after getting ready. Hesitant to wake his dongsaeng, Chan brushed the backs of his fingers against his forehead and found his skin unnaturally warm to the touch. Jisung wouldn't be able to record his parts anyway, so why drag him out? Searching for Minho, Chan joined the dancer in his room and explained: "You were right, Sung seems to be running a temperature and if he can't record, I don't see why we should take him with us. He's asleep and would probably benefit more from just staying here and resting. You're only scheduled for your recording in the afternoon. I know that Hyunjin and Felix are going to have a voluntary dance practice, I don't know if you're planning to join them. If you're not, maybe you could keep an eye on Jisung till you need to head to the studio?" – "I was thinking about it but after I found Sungie this morning, I'd rather keep him some company before coming over to record my parts", Minho agreed, "Can you text me if you take longer or already need me earlier? It'll take me longer to get to the studio from here instead of the dance room." – "Sure, will do. Thank you, Min, and tell Jisung to feel better", Chan smiled before gathering Changbin, Seungmin and Jeongin. Hyunjin and Felix left only a few minutes later.

After the dorm became quiet, Minho made his way to the kitchen. He decided to prepare a pot of tea, in hopes of helping Jisung's throat, when he remembered the rapper also hadn't had breakfast yet. Figuring his dongsaeng didn't have that much of an appetite, Minho contemplated what would be soft enough to eat with a sore throat. He washed a handful different berries and sliced a banana, mixing the berries into a bowl of yoghurt, which he had sweetened with some honey, and decorating it with banana slices. Grabbing a small tray, the dancer placed the yoghurt, a teacup and the pot of tea on it and carried it to Jisung's bedroom. He could already hear the rapper coughing, so he wasn't too worried about waking him up. Opening the door with his elbow, Minho smiled: "Hey." – "Hey", the younger sniffled quietly, "Why's it so quiet?" – "The others left already. Chan decided it would be best to let you rest since you can't record with how shot our voice is. He said to tell you to feel better", Minho explained, watching a look of horror flash across Jisung's face. "That was supposed to be today?" – "Yeah, we're recording today. My turn is scheduled for the afternoon, so I stayed back to keep you company for now", the dancer confirmed, "You didn't have breakfast with us, so I made you something. Hope it doesn't hurt too much." – "Thanks, hyung", Jisung whispered, accepting the bowl from Minho. Seeing how pretty the older had decorated it made the rapper smile.

Minho sat at the foot of Jisung's bed, keeping the boy company while he ate. "You should probably change back into something comfortable, when you're done eating. That doesn't look like it'd be nice to nap in", the dancer commented on the skinny jeans. Jisung nodded, placing the bowl back onto the tray, rasping: "Could I borrow one of your hoodies? They're always the comfiest." The rapper's pout made Minho giggle before he nodded. "I'll get you one. I know which one's your favorite", he chuckled, leaving his dongsaeng blushing on his bed. When he returned, Jisung was curiously eyeing the teapot till Minho picked it up and poured some into the cup, explaining: "Lemon tea. The honey should sooth your throat and the vitamin c will help you kick this cold in no time. Here, that's the hoodie you wanted, isn't it?" Jisung couldn't help but blush again. Minho had really picked out the one he liked most. Nodding, the rapper accepted it and got up to change. In his sweatpants and Minho's hoodie, he crawled back into bed, sitting against the headboard.

His hyung handed him his tea and glanced at the clock. He'd have to leave soon but he wanted to get Jisung all settled before heading out. "Anything you want to do today, while we're gone?", he asked, spotting the rapper's laptop and plugging it in to charge, so his dongsaeng could watch a movie later. The younger just shrugged, admitting: "Honestly, I just want to sleep, please." – "Should I leave?", Minho asked softly, feeling Jisung's forehead again concerned by how wiped he seemed. "I – I don't know", the rapper groaned, coughing again. Seeing how emotional the younger got, Minho cooed: "Tell you what. Finish that tea and then you can sleep, yeah? I'll sit with you and maybe play with your hair till you fall asleep. Then I'll go to the studio and record my parts. Should you wake up before any of us are back, you can watch a movie, maybe have some more tea and then we'll see how you're feeling tonight." Jisung nodded, taking another sip. He finished his tea while Minho got up and drew the curtains, so his dongsaeng would be able to get some proper sleep. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, the dancer waited for Jisung to put his cup aside and lay down. He gently cupped the boy's feverish cheek before running his hand through his hair, watching the younger relax. Minho sat playing with Jisung's hair, long after the rapper was asleep. When he had to leave for the studio, he grabbed the yoghurt bowl and snuck out of the room. After placing the bowl in the sink, he slipped on his shoes and headed out.

[hearthaleydunphy]

A Heartbreakers bet

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, little bit of angst

(Note: Sorry Fred seems like a dick in this, it just went with the plot better. This might seem a little rushed at times but i had a lot of fun making it and honestly i’m feeling good about it.)

———————————————————————

“Okay, you wanna make a little bit of money, huh?” Fred asked his twin who was sitting in front of the roaring fire in the Gryffindor Common room doing his homework.

“Yes, Fred. Just need a few galleons.” George replied, rolling his eyes.

“How bout a bet? I’ll give you 10 galleons, which is almost all my money, if you can get L/n to like you and I mean actually like you.” Fred smirked. “Ask her on a date and see how far you can get without her knowing about the bet. Hell, i’ll give you the money if you can even ask her out.”

George sat in silence for a minute thinking about it. On one hand, he didn’t want to hurt her accidentally when she finds out he doesn’t like her but on the other hand, he wanted that money.

“Ten Galleons?” Fred nodded. “Fine.” George sighed.

“L/n!” Y/n’s brows furrowed when she heard George Weasley calling her name from down the empty corridor.

“Weasley?” Y/n asked, stopping and turning to face him as he jogged towards her. “What do you want?”

“I have a question for you.” George said when he caught up to her. She raised her eyebrows, telling him to continue. “Would you like to go on a date with me? This Saturday after class.”

“Sure.” Y/n smiled. “I’d like that.”

George’s stomach twisted when he saw how her face lit up when he asked that but he knew he had to keep going.

“Cool. So, the great lawn at 6 o’clock Saturday?”

“I’ll see you there.”

Y/n couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she watched George walk away. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to keep out a small squeal of excitement.

Y/n hitched her bag up her shoulder before turning on her heels and continued her journey down the corridor.

Meanwhile, George walked back down the corridor, a frown on his face. He was probably gonna break this poor girls heart for a few galleons. He couldn’t help but stop and think about his stupid, 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 decision

“Sorry, Professor, I got held up.” Y/n apologized as she walked into her Transfiguration class. Mcgonagall gave her a small look.

“You know where to sit, L/n.” Mcgonagall told her.

“Right, sorry.” Y/n said before slipping into the seat next to Hermione Granger.

“What happened?” Hermione asked.

“Hm?” Y/n hummed, confused.

“You’re never this late. Plus you’re blushing.” Hermione told her.

“George asked me out.” Y/n whispered excitedly.

“Seriously?” Hermione asked, a smile on her face.

“Yes!”

“When?”

“This Saturday.” Y/n said, a bright smile adorning her face. Hermione returned the smile and let out the small squeal of excitement that Y/n had wanted to let out in the corridor.

“Miss Granger, Miss Y/n! Anything to share?” Mcgonagall called from the front prompting everyone to turn and look at the two.

“No, Professor.” The two replied. Y/n couldn’t help but let out a little laugh that was muffled by her hand while Hermione hid her smile behind a book.

———————————————————————

Y/n thought she would be bouncing off the walls in happiness by the time Saturday rolled around but all she felt was nervous. She didn’t even feel like she could eat she was so nervous but Hermione made sure at least ate a piece of toast.

“What are you so nervous for?” Ron Weasley, one of Y/n’s other friends, asked. He had known about the date but not the bet since the twins knew Ron would go blathering about it to protect Y/n.

“It’s been a while since i’ve been on a date. . .” Harry, Ron, and Hermione raised their eyebrows at her. “Okay, so, i’ve never been on date. Oh, god what if i am totally weird and he doesn’t like me.” Y/n whined before dropping her head on the table

George sat farther down at the Gryffindor table, occasionally sneaking glances towards Y/n. He couldn’t tell her precise emotion but her face showed nervousness and a bit of excitement. That bit of excitement made his stomach twist. He knew it was too late to call off the date but maybe he could still call off the stupid bet.

He thought about his options; on one hand, calling off the bet but still taking her on a date meant she would probably have her heartbroken when he doesn’t ask her on another after but doing the bet just meant he was betraying her trust and breaking her heart even more.

He thought about a third option. That option had been to run far, far away. Maybe Romania since that’s where his brother Charlie ended up but he knew that he would receive some letters from his mother with some not so nice words.

“Are you still worrying about this?” Fred asked. He didn’t see the problem with this whole bet while his twin saw all the wrong in it.

“Yeah, Fred, i’m still worrying. What do i do if i break her heart? She doesn’t deserve that.” George told him. Fred just shrugged and muttered something along the lines of ‘figure it out’

———————————————————————

Later that night George Weasley and Y/n L/n could be seen running down towards the Black Lake in the pale moonlight. Both wearing the cheesy smiles you see in the muggle movies.

The two plopped down on the ground by the lake, George leaning against a tree while Y/n fell back, her head in his lap. Almost instinctively his hands started running through her hair.

“Oh! Before i forget.” George said, reaching into his pockets and pulling out snacks mixed with a few sweets. He put them down in a pile next to them as the two took their pick.

George continued to look out at the lake as the bright moon reflected on the surface. The evening was a little brisk but it felt nice. Perfect for a date. He didn’t even notice Y/n staring up at him, a soft smile playing at her lips.

“What’re you staring at?” George smiled, finally noticing it.

“Not staring just. . . admiring the view.” Y/n admitted. George let out a breathy laugh and looked away as a light blush tinted his cheeks.

In that moment he almost forgot about the bet. 𝘈𝘭����𝘰𝘴𝘵. The moment it popped back into his head, his smile vanished. Y/n sat up, worried, when she saw that.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“What?” George asked looking towards her. “Oh, yeah. Don’t worry.” Y/n nodded, instinctively pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“That thing, with your lip.”

“Why?” Y/n asked, laughing a little.

“Because it makes me wanna kiss you.” George admitted.

“So, why don’t you?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Well then you’re a dumbass. Do you know how long I’ve waited to head those words from you?”

George looked up at her, his breath catching in his throat. She looked absolutely breathtaking. He watched the way the moonlight shone on the right side of her face making her blush visible to him. Before he knew what he was doing his lips were on hers as his hands lay gently on the sides of her face.

Y/n stayed frozen a moment before she realized what was happening and kissed back, her hand reaching up and tangling in the wild red hair of George Weasley. When they pulled away George’s hair was a mess and he had lipgloss smudged on his lips and the same could be said for Y/n.

“That was. . . wow.” Y/n breathed out, neither of them being able to wipe their smiles.

“Yeah. Wow.” George whispered. The more he looked into those beautiful, sparkling eyes the more he fell for her. He knew it was bad to actually start falling for her but those eyes drew him back in every time he tried to get out of this.

“It’s — it’s getting kinda late.” Y/n spoke up. “I think we should head back.”

“Yeah, of course.” George smiled at her before the two of them stood up and made their way back to the castle.

——————-——————-——————-———

“So, how did it go last night?” Hermione asked Y/n the next morning at breakfast.

“Amazing. Actually we — we kissed.” Y/n said, her cheeks turning pink as she said it.

“Ew.” Ron muttered, his mouth full.

“Shut it, Ronald! And close your mouth.” Hermione snapped before turning back to Y/n. “So are you going on another date?”

“I - I don’t know yet. I hope so.”

George watched from down the table as Y/n whispered excitedly to Hermione. He couldn’t help but smile knowing he caused her to be that happy but his smile vanished when Fred spoke up.

“Alright, you took her on a date. You want the money now or are you gonna let this play out?” Fred asked.

“She’s really nice, Fred. I might actually like her. I think i’m gonna go out with her again.” George admitted.

“You gonna tell her about the bet?” Lee Jordan, the twins best friend, spoke up.

George shook his head.

“I don’t think so. I don’t want her to know that that whole date was supposed to be a lie. I mean look at her.” George said.

“Fine. But when she finds out about it — and she will — it’s gonna come back and bite you in the ass.” Lee told him before going back to his food.

George thought a minute on his words before shaking his head and getting up from his seat and walked down the table to Y/n and Hermione.

“You mind if I sit here, ‘Mione?” George asked the brunette haired witch.

“Not at all.” Hermione said getting up and shooting Y/n a wink before dragging a hungry Ron out of the Great Hall.

“What’s up?” Y/n asked, smiling.

“Just wondering if you wanted to go out again? Maybe to Hogsmeade?” George asked.

“After last night? Definitely.”

———————————————————————

A few months later . . .

It had been a few months and Y/n and George had a good thing going. George had honestly kinda forgotten about the bet until Fred reminded him in the Gryffindor common room.

“George, this bet thing has been going on too long. Here’s the money, you can call it off now.” Fred said, tossing a tiny pouch to George. George nodded silently before going back to his homework in front of him. Fred rolled his eyes before leaving the common room.

Once he was alone, George fell back on the couch. Right. The bet. The one that George stupidly accepted. He didn’t know what to do.

George took a shaky breath before packing up his books and taking them with him outside to the great lawn.

A few floors down in one of the quiet alcoves that were scattered around the castle, Y/n L/n sat sketching anything and everything only looking up when Ron Weasley approached her.

“I need to tell you something.” Ron sighed. “About George.”

“What about him?” Y/n laughed putting away her sketchbook before motioning for Ron to walk with her.

“The whole thing with you guys being together. It was for a bet.” Ron rushed out as they walked. “A bet with Fred.”

Y/n stopped in her tracks, Her heart sinking to her stomach.

“W-What? Did you know?”

“I just found out. I heard them talking.”

“Wow. So, everything was just a lie to him?” Y/n asked no one in particular. “That asshole!” She shouted before turning around and running out.

———-———-———-———-———-———-——-

Y/n stormed through the corridors looking for George Weasley. She finally found him out by the lake. She stormed up to him an angry and hurt look on her face.

“What the hell, Weasley?” Y/n shouted when she got near him.

“Woah, what’s wrong, babe?” George asked, standing up.

“𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘦? You don’t get to call me that anymore! You lied to me!” She screeched. “You told me you liked me but it was all just for a stupid bet, wasn’t it?”

“How did you find out?”

“Your stupid brother is how i found out! I had to find out through your brother instead of you? You convinced me that you liked me only for it all the be a lie! I loved you, George Weasley and you broke my heart!” Y/n screamed at him.

“Y-you love me?” George stuttered, his face softening.

“𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥.” Y/n told him. “And i thought a part of you loved me too but you just did all of this for what, a couple galleons?”

“That’s what it was a first. But my feelings have changed, i promise you. Please, Y/n. I love you.”

“If you really loved me, you would have told me earlier. We’re done.” Y/n now had tears streaming down her face. George’s heart broke a little more each time a new one rolled out before dripping off her face and falling to the grass below her.

Before George could make up any more excuses, she left. George himself now had tears running down his face.

“𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵!" he shouted throwing his book down onto the grass, his heart aching.

———————————————————————

Y/n collapsed against a cold wall. The corridors were empty leaving her with her thoughts. Sobs racked her body and she sat on the cold, stone floor feeling hurt and betrayed by the man who she thought loved her.

Y/n pulled out her sketchbook and opened it, tearing out any pages that reminded her of the “relationship”. Her heart broke each page but she continued to tear them up hoping to rid of the memories of him.

She finally looked up, tears running down her face, when she heard the sound of footsteps and before she knew it she was wrapped up in a hug by Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

“I’m so sorry.” Hermione said, her voice cracking. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I loved him.” Y/n whispered before letting out more sobs into Hermiones shoulder.

———————————————————————

Weeks had passed without Y/n even looking at George. He felt horrible and he knew she was right. He should have told her. He knew Lee was right, it did come back and bite him in the ass.

The two still had to see each other at quidditch. Every practice and every game was excruciating. You could cut the tension with a knife. The two tried to pretend nothing ever happened between them but it caused more repressed anger in both of them. The team started tiptoeing around the subject of the relationship, scared one of them was just gonna 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱.

Y/n often walked away from practices with tears threatening to spill cause she missed him. She hated that she missed him but she really did. She missed the way his lips felt against hers, the way his rough hands fit perfectly in her soft ones, almost like they were made for each other.

Y/n knew George went down to the Black Lake almost every night, back to where they shared their first kiss. He just sat there and stared at the moons reflection on the lake. Most nights she wanted to join him and just lay her head in his lap as he thread his fingers through her hair but the rational part of her told her not to. He broke her heart and he lied to her. He used her for a bit of money! So every night she turned away from watching him out her dorm window and turned off her lights before climbing into bed and letting the silent tears escape her eyes.

—————-—————-—————-—————-—-

The next morning was one of the last quidditch games of the season and everyone was a bit on edge. Y/n and George had unfortunately been the first two to be finished changing meaning the two of them were to sit around in an awkward silence. The air around them felt heavier and thicker as the minutes passed.

“Can we talk after the game, Y/n?” George asked, ending the silence.

“About what?” Y/n sighed.

“Us. Everything that happened. I. . . I want a chance to explain myself and I just need you to listen to me. You don’t even have to forgive me, i just want you to listen.”

“. . . fine” Y/n said after a moment. “but I don’t think whatever you say is gonna change my mind.” George nodded, understanding what she meant.

———————————————————————

The game was so close to being done. The team had scored almost all the points they needed but they were really counting on Harry to find the snitch in the few moments.

Y/n held a quaffle tight in her arms as she raced to the hoop, a Slytherin team member right beside her. He knocked against her and she tilted on her broom but used her legs to keep her upright. The one thing she didn’t notice while trying to stay balanced was the bludger that was heading right towards her. All she could remember was falling through the air before it all went black, a 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱! echoed in her ear before it all went quiet.

———————————————————————

The first thing Y/n noticed before she even opened her eyes was the hand holding hers. It was a bit rough and calloused in her soft hands but it brought her comfort cause she knew exactly who it was. She never thought she could miss the feeling of holding his hand but here she was, barely starting to come to her senses, being reminded of all the good that came from the relationship.

George watched from beside Y/n as her eyes fluttered opened. She winced when she tried to move her left hand but all she got was pain.

“Broken arm. It’s gonna take a little bit to mend.” George told her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Y-you said you wanted to talk after the game? Well, it’s after the game if you still wanna have that chat.” Y/n said, a joking tone in her voice that made George chuckle softly. He missed that about her.

“I am so sorry for what i did to you. I had multiple chances to turn down the bet and multiple chances to tell you but I didn’t and that was stupid.” George started to explain. “I didn’t wanna leave you hurt but obviously by the not telling you i made it worse. I don’t think there’s a point in giving me a second chance but I do love you and I hate that it took a stupid bet for me to realize it but I do, I love you and I’ve never felt this way for someone before and honestly, it scares me. I just needed you to know that.”

“George . . .” Y/n sighed. “It’s gonna be very hard for me to forgive you but I wanna give you a second chance. If you find a way to fuck this one up then it wasn’t meant to be but i wanna try again. I know I said whatever you say might not change my mind but i miss you. So, how about when i get of here we go recreate that first date?”

“I’d love to do that.” George smiled at her. “And thank you for a second chance. I won’t let you down.”

And once again, after Y/n got out of the hospital wing, the two could be seen running down to the great lawn in the pale moonlight, hand in hand. To them, everything felt right again. Just the two of them watching the moons reflection on the surface of the lake.

[rosesvioletshardy]

i’m sorry - b.h

hi another imagine that was requested that took me forever to write and finish

not sure what this is but hopefully y’all like it because there were nights where i just stayed up staring at it hoping that i can think of something to write so yeah

masterlist

warnings: yelling?, angst

# of words: 2,916

--

Dating someone who was almost 10 years older than you and famous felt like a weird experience. Y/N wasn’t really used to it after dating for two years already since the biggest age gap she had with someone was someone who was only a year older than her. She was quiet and reserved and was sometimes sensitive, especially when someone raised their voice at her, which was why her last relationship didn’t work out.

 There were times where she felt like there was something wrong in their relationship because of how sometimes he would avoid her and sometimes would cancel dates and blow her off. She understood that he wanted to hang out with his friends at some points since he doesn’t get to see them that often especially when he has to leave for another country for filming. They did go on dates every now and then and would make sure to let the other know beforehand if they were to cancel it so they could reschedule. 

Recently Ben has been home for a few months and this was the longest he has been home that didn’t involve filming, even if it was in London since most of the time he had to stay on set in his trailer. He missed pretty much everyone in his life currently but the one thing he missed a little bit more was hanging out with his friends. He knew that wasn’t the best thing to think about or ever miss when he has a girlfriend but he hasn’t gotten or had a proper guys night out in a while with them and he wanted to do something with them again and act like teenagers. 

It was still early in the morning which meant that he had enough time to fit in a workout and lounge around before he went off at night. When he woke up, he felt the bed empty next to him which  meant that Y/N had gone to work and wouldn’t see him until he left for the night. He really did love her and wouldn’t know what he would without her. Ben loved her kind nature, how she always put others first before herself which he hated sometimes because he felt that there were times where she needed to focus on herself but she didn’t know how to sometimes. He didn’t do much that afternoon since there wasn’t that much to do. He went for a run, made breakfast, talked to Y/N, cleaned up around a bit. Ben knew he shouldn’t have been working while on a break from filming but he couldn’t help but start writing a screenplay he just started thinking of.

Hours have passed and it was now the evening which meant he was finishing getting ready for the night as his girlfriend walked into their apartment carrying a few take out bags as she kicked off her heels by the door and walking to the kitchen to set everything down before going to their room and finding him sitting on their bed putting shoes on all dressed up.

“Hey babe” she told him giving him a kiss on the lips as he got up almost towering over her

“Hey baby, how was work?’’ ben asked her as he got up and looked at himself in the mirror one more time before he left

“How long do you think I would go to jail for murdering someone for constantly annoying me?”

“Work was that bad?”

“Yeah, I was hoping that a certain someone will help make my night better as we eat the takeout I brought and watch someone movies while drinking some nice wine. Why are you all dressed up?” she asked looking up at him when she wrapped her arms around him

“I was going to go out with some mates since I haven’t gotten a proper chance to hang out with them in a while”

“Oh-” Y/N said feeling a bit disappointed

“You alright?” he asked her when he hear the disappointment in her voice

“Yeah, yeah i was just hoping to spend some time with my boyfriend after a shitty day at work, but you want to go out. It’s fine” she said pulling away and starting to change out of her work clothes

“Are you mad that i want to spend some time out with mates after not seeing them for a long time?” ben questioned her as he pulled away from her

“No, you can hang out with them. I was just hoping that I got to spend the rest of the night with my boyfriend after a shitty day at work and do nothing.” she defensively told him 

“I haven’t seen my friends in who knows how long because I’m either always away and working or they have their own lives and work, and if I do it’s never for a long time too. I always spend all my fucking free time with you. I don’t even remember the last time I just got to relax and hang out with them and just be one of the fucking guys!” he told her raising his voice a bit

“You had three fucking weeks to hang out with them and you chose today! I know none of them were that busy and neither were you in those weeks!” she called out back at him

“GOD! ARE YOU REALLY DOING THIS NOW? ACTING LIKE I CAN’T HAVE A FUCKING LIFE OUTSIDE OF ACTING? OUTSIDE OF DOING MY FUCKING JOB? I’VE KNOWN THEM SINCE I WAS A KID! I’VE KNOWN YOU FOR ONLY 2 FUCKING YEARS” he yelled at her raising his voice causing her to take a step back and flinch as he raised his voice, turning red as the veins in his neck began to stand out and his jaw clenched while tears began to escape her eyes

“No. you’re right. I’m sorry, go and have fun.” she sneered at him

“You know what I will.” he pointed a finger at her, then grabbing his keys and storming out of the room leaving her alone. The slam of the front door caused her to flinch as she soon broke down, falling down to the floor, with her back against their bed crying.

Ben on the other hand couldn’t focus at all when he left. The entire time he was driving to the pub, his jaw was clenched as one hand gripped the steering wheel tightly thinking about the scene that happened before he left and the thought and pulled into the lot of the pub. When he entered, he quickly spotted his friends and walked over to them before greeting them. Once they got their drinks, they began to catch up with each other and chat about everything that’s recently happened in their lives. Ben was distracted and couldn’t focus on what they were talking about and would just mindlessly drink his beer, zoned out and not paying attention as to the conversation that was happening between him and his friends. They all noticed that he was quieter than usual and wasn’t partaking in their conversation

“Jonesy? You a’right mate?” josh asked him which made ben snap out of his thoughts 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. ‘M just thinking.” 

“Everything alright between you and Y/N?” sam asked him taking a swing of his beer

“Everything’s fine between us. Now what were you talking ‘bout?” Ben asked them wanting to avoid the question not wanting to bother them with his relationship problems. All his friends could do was just look at each other and know he was lying from the way he was avoiding the question. Just because he was a trained actor doesn’t mean he’s a good liar at all. 

“Bullshit. Tell us what’s really wrong. Is it Y/N?” they kept asking him before he snapped

“Fine! Yes it is about her.” he told them as they listened closely

“She came home from work late and told me she had one of the worst days because of something her boss and coworker did. Then she mentioned how she wanted to just spend the rest of the night with me just eating take out and watching movies but I had already made plans with you lot and then it got worse. She explained to me everything and how we had three weeks to hang out but we never did and how you weren’t all busy to do so. But um, um, I may or may not have ended up yelling, “I’ve known them since I was a kid” and “i’ve known you for 2 years” at that is what brings us here.” ben told them all as they just stared at him and all he could do was nod 

“Yeah so that’s how my night has been.” he finished off with drowning the pint of beer in front of him

“You’re so screwed mate.”

“Yeah she probably hates you by now.”

“You think I don't know that?!” ben said irritated and slightly raising his voice before taking a deep breath

“Look, what you need to do right now is you need to go to tesco, buy some flowers, some chocolates, her favorite bottle of wine, and go back to your flat and apologize. That’s pretty much all you can do because yelling, especially with what you said, is just a big yikes mate.” sam told him

“Yeah, yeah i know. I guess I should be going then, if it’s going to close soon.” ben told them laying down some money and getting out of his seat

“Alright, i’ll talk to you all later” he finished as he put his coat back on

“Right, see you” his friends told him as he walked out to the uber he called earlier 

The drive to Tesco was quiet, seeing that his thoughts consumed him as he thought about the past 2 years he and Y/N were together. Within those two years, he has never raised his voice at her and the only time they yelled at each other was if they were messing around and playing. Yeah they had fights but never this serious. He was soon knocked out of his thoughts when the driver called out his name. Ben thanked him and got out, and entered the store.

He already knew what he was going to be getting since he was used to getting them for Y/N whenever she was on her period and didn’t go to the store. The only problem he was having was that he was debating on whether what kind of bouquet of flowers he should get her. A simple bouquet or a huge one seeing about how bad he fucked up. Deciding to go with the big one, he quickly made his way over the wine aisle and grabbed the most expensive but good one he could find before going to get some candy.

When he got all he needed, he went to the register, the older woman can tell that he did something bad by looking at everything he bought for Y/N and wished him luck once she finished ringing everything up. He wished her a goodnight and left the store and headed back to their flat hoping that she would forgive him. 

“Alright ben. This is it. You can just go in there, find her, and apologize while giving her everything. You didn’t mean to yell at her and you regret it. If you can get naked in front of people for a play, you can confront your girlfriend and admit your mistakes.” he said to himself as he stood outside their front door trying to calm himself down. 

He took one more deep breath before opening the door to find it completely silent and dark. Frankie didn’t even come to greet him which meant she was probably with Y/N. He set his keys down, remembering that he needed to pick up his car the next day when he was sober, and walked to their shared room. When he got there, he softly knocked on the door and got no answer. Ben waited a few seconds before knocking again and tried to turn the handle to find it was locked. Letting out a sigh and sat down, his back against the door and began to talk. 

“Y/N? Love? I don’t know if you’re asleep by now or if you’re still awake but i wanted to say I’m sorry. I was being a terrible boyfriend and decided to go out rather than be with you. I didn’t mean to yell at you and if i’m being honest i don’t know why i did it. I completely regret it because I know how someone raising their voice makes you and it made me feel terrible afterwards.” ben started  

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry, is that you have every right to be mad at me and can shut me off for as long as you want. Um, I got you some things I’d thought you’d enjoy and another way of saying “I’m Sorry” so, I’ll just leave them here. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight” he finished getting up and heading to the living room to lay down

Y/N was awake listening to everything he had said and she felt bad but not as bad as he did from when he yelled at her. She heard him set everything down and get up and listen as his footsteps grew quieter. Frankie laying beside her, Y/N scratched her ears and began to talk

“He feels really bad about it, huh franks?” she asked knowing that she wasn’t going to get an answer from a dog

“Same here. I should’ve just let him go without saying anything. Shouldn’t have said anything in general.”

“Don’t look at me like that, let’s just go see what he bought.”

Y/N got out of their bed and walked over to the door and opened it to find her favorite sweets, a bottle of really expensive wine, and some of her favorite flowers. She noticed the note inside the flowers that she noticed had his handwriting listing some of his favorite things about her. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him a little tipsy writing everything down, but she knew that whenever he’s even the tiniest drunk he becomes a little clingy with the people around him before he lets loose. Walking down the hallway, she walked past all of the photos of her and Ben throughout the years and couldn’t help but smile. Some people thought it was weird that the two of you had pictures hung up since you weren’t married and some of them were just the two of them being themselves and messing around. 

Y/N got to the living and saw his sleeping figure on the couch. She couldn’t tell if he was actually sleeping or if he just had his eyes closed. Walking into the kitchen, Y/N put the flowers in a vase with water and put the wine and chocolates onto the kitchen table before walking over to where Ben was. She admired him and everything he did for her. Ben felt someone staring at him and opened his eyes to find Y/N smiling at him.

“Hey.” she whispered

“Hey” he answered back. It was quiet between the two of them for a moment as he sat up 

“Listen, before you say anything I want to tell you that yelling at you, especially like that, was one of the worst things I could possibly do. Especially when I knew how you would react. You were right. I had weeks to hang out with them and you came home feeling the worst. I should’ve canceled or rescheduled and stayed home with you, especially when you had a bad day.” he said all in one breath

“Ben, no it’s my fault. You’ve known them since you were teens and it makes sense that because you weren’t filming that you would want to go out and just be a normal person and feel like a teenager again. I spent all those weeks with you and it made sense that you would want to go out.” Y/N told him as ben shook his head trying to justify his argument and blame himself 

“No. it’s entirely my fault. I yelled and it got out of hand. I don’t want to argue with you about it now or ever about these kinds of things ever. Please. Now i just want to spend the rest of this night with my girlfriend and let her talk about her shitty day at work and how much she hates her boss and coworkers. It’s what she deserves and I need to make up for what I did to her.”  he told her, pulling her into his arms as he buried his face into her neck as she went into his chest.

“Well then, there’s a really expensive bottle of wine this guy bought for me and some take out and I think we should open it and eat.” he said, staring into her eyes “I think the guy must be crazy in love for him to buy an expensive wine only for it to be paired with take out and chocolates” Y/N told him giving him a peck

“Yeah, he really is crazy in love and he doesn’t regret it one bit”

[onebatch2batch]

kastle + "“Is that.. my shirt?” please and thank you❤️❤️

HI, I KNOW YOU SENT THIS A MILLION YEARS AGO BUT I JUST FINISHED IT SO HOPEFULLY YOU LIKE IT <3

--

If there’s one thing Karen hates most in the world, it’s laundry. Which isn’t entirely warranted, because a majority of her things are dry clean only, and she usually only has to do a load or two herself every other week—but still. She hates that it feels like an all day affair, she hates folding everything, she hates the feel of the lint of her fingers when she removes it from the filter. So when a warm Saturday in June arrives and she’s low on clothes, like really low on clothes, Karen realizes she should start a load. 

Unfortunately, her body is not on board with the idea. She wakes up slow, eats some late breakfast, and lethargically gathers the clothes strewn about her apartment. It’s a Saturday, so she has nothing to do but procrastinate. Procrastination forces her into the shower, and procrastination has her drinking coffee in a towel at the edge of her bed as she realizes that she has nothing to put on. It’s either she wears a skirt and blouse around the apartment or a towel until the first load is done. 

Or, her brain supplies helpfully, there’s Frank’s drawer. 

Karen’s eyes slide unwittingly towards her dresser, where the bottom drawer remains firmly closed. He’s been out of town for the last week or so with Curtis, up in the mountains with absolutely no reception. She knows it’s good for him to get away every once in a while, especially with his friends, but part of her—the smallest part, the only part not thinly veiled in denial—wishes he would have asked her along. It’s a thought she’s had a lot in the last couple days, accompanied by the hollow ache left by his absence. 

God, she misses him. 

She misses his surprise visits that turn into too much wine and inevitably leading to his crashing on the couch. She misses waking in the morning to freshly brewed coffee and he at the kitchen counter, head bowed over a book. She misses walking into the bathroom and inhaling Frank’s steamy post-shower smell: cedarwood, something earthy, something subtly metallic. It’s both a blessing and a curse to have him stay the night at her place; she only wishes it was in her bed, not on the couch. 

Karen sighs. Goosebumps are starting to pebble on her skin from the AC, and so she steels her resolve and kneels before Frank’s drawer. She’d casually offered it to him months ago over breakfast. You spend the night enough, she tells him while staring resolutely into her mug. Might as well have a change of clothes here just in case you need them. 

She had felt his eyes on her, all intense heat and wariness, long enough for her to fidget. And then finally he’d said: Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks, Karen. 

The drawer is filled with a myriad of things, and not just clothes. On the top of the pile there’s a paperback by Jack Kerouac, a box of ammo, and a pair of spare keys she suspects is to that intimidating black van he drives. Underneath is a pair of socks, boxers (that she hurriedly paws past), some grey sweatpants (that look absolutely sinful on him, she recalls), and a pair of dark jeans. At the very bottom is a long sleeved henley and a plain black t shirt—Karen pulls out the t shirt and slips it over her head before she can talk herself out of it.

It’s comfortable, if a little too big. The hem hangs just past her hips when she stands, so Karen slips on a pair of underwear and leaves it at that. The rest of the afternoon she spends doing laundry and pretending as if she can’t smell him on her with every inhale. And when the guilt starts to eat at her, she tells herself that the shirt will be cleaned and replaced before Frank even knows it’s missing. 

—

Except it isn’t, because of course it isn’t. 

Hour three of dragging herself through the slowest washing machine cycle in the world (she’d splurged a little on an apartment with a hook up, too unwilling to deal with the laundromat down the block) and the worst dryer to accompany it (she hadn’t so much splurged on the actual machines)—finds Karen on the couch, flipping through the television channels. It’s nearly four o’clock and the temperature outside has finally broken, so the air is off and the windows are open. A soft breeze occasionally brushes over the exposed skin of her legs. And there’s absolutely nothing on the television. 

So she does what any sane person would do, and returns to Frank’s drawer for the book. Not that she doesn’t have plenty of her own reading material, but she’s never read Kerouac and she’s a little curious what Frank sees in him. It’s halfway through the first chapter that she realizes there’s a key turning in the lock, and that Frank’s back. 

Because of course he would walk in to this: her, clothed in underwear and his t shirt and no bra; sitting with her legs stretched across the couch cushions, back against the arm; his book in her hands as she struggles to parse the casual run-ons of Kerouac; a basket of half folded laundry on the floor. And he does—his face appears at the end of the hall leading to her front door and he pauses, bag slung over his shoulders and eyebrows raised to his hair. 

“Hi, Frank,” Karen greets, carefully closing the book. “How was your trip?”

His eyes glance quickly at her exposed legs, and then up to his t shirt, back down to her legs, and then up to her face. Karen relishes in the warm flush that spreads across his cheeks, even if it is partially covered by his beard. “It was, uh, it was good,” he tells her roughly, unmoving. His eyes stray back to her lower half. “Is that...my shirt?”

Karen realizes that she should be embarrassed by her lack of clothes or admonished for going through his things without asking. But the only thing she really can feel is frustrated as a thought strikes her. That day in the hospital when she and Frank were alone--before Amy had interrupted--after Karen had all but blurted her feelings into the stale, tension-heavy room. His entire body had been covered in lacerations and zig zagged with stitches; his face was bruised and battered. He’d been so evasive with her, gaze hardly connecting with her own before darting away again. She’d been so afraid for him. Hopeless. And frustrated. 

“You could love someone else instead of another war.”

“I don’t want to.”

At the time he’d been so determined, so set in his jaw as the hoarse declaration hung in the air. She wonders if that’s changed now, months of spending the night and phone calls and take out dinners later. If she were to ask the same question now—what he would say? 

“It is,” she tells him evenly.

Frank’s hand tightens on the strap of his bag, a nervous gesture. “Why?” he finally asks.

“I haven’t been pining after you, if that's what you mean. I was out of clothes.” Karen offers him a small smile, trying to quell the bout of butterflies that erupt in her stomach at the rough edge to his voice. 

To her relief he smiles. The tension eases from his shoulders. “You don’t seem like the pinin’ type.”

“I’m not.” Liar, liar, no pants on fire. “You just got back?” 

He nods, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Was thinking about gettin’ dinner.” 

“You find the take out menu, I’ll put pants on,” she wages.

Frank’s blush rises. He coughs and then turns, walking into the kitchen at a pace quicker than usual. Karen fidgets with the hem of the shirt, waiting until she can hear the telling sound of the coffee machine being manhandled. She grapples for a pair of leggings in the basket beside her and hurriedly puts them on. 

“Sorry about the shirt,” she says loudly. “I was completely out of laundry and I figured you wouldn’t be back for a while. I’ll wash it for you.” 

Frank reappears in the doorway, eyes on the floor until he’s sure she’s fully clothed. “Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles. “It’s nothin’.”

“I went into your things, Frank, I hardly think that’s nothing.” 

At that, he meets her gaze. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he counters, shooting her a grin. 

Karen huffs out a laugh. “Whatever. Hang on, I’m going to change out of this and then I'll order the food.” 

“No.” 

Karen swivels her head to give Frank a surprised look. The intensity of his no is startling but he seems as shocked as she is. There’s a beat of silence, and then he clears his throat and looks away as his finger starts that familiar rhythm against his leg. “I mean. You don’t have to. If you’re comfortable.” 

She considers pushing it. She doesn’t. Not yet. 

“I am. Thanks.” 

—

Several hours later, Karen realizes their bottle of wine is empty. She’s sitting against one arm of the couch with Frank against the other. Her legs bridge the gap between them, and if she were to point her toes she could touch the strong muscle of his thigh. Their take out boxes sit empty on the coffee table, and Frank has his head tilted back, eyes on the ceiling. The apartment is quiet.

“So what did you and Curtis do in the mountains?” Karen asks into the silence, hesitant to break it but curiosity finally getting the better of her. 

Frank sips his wine, and then turns his head to look at her. Karen is struck by how handsome he looks, the setting sun’s orange rays highlighting the curve of his nose and the warmth of his eyes. “Stupid shit,” he tells her with a chuckle. “We chopped up some trees, went hikin’--that asshole’s still faster’n me even with that leg--I read a lot. Talked. Drank some.”

Karen waggles her eyebrows. “Does that mean you guys got hammered in a cabin?”

His mouth curves into an amused smile. “Takes a lot to get me hammered, Karen.”

“When’s the last time you were?”

Karen is always careful about asking questions regarding his past. She knows it’s dangerous territory--one small slip could turn their conversation from lighthearted banter to emotional warfare. That’s the last thing she wants for him, for them. 

Thankfully, Frank has a quick answer. “Can’t remember. Years.”

She hums, curiosity piqued. She wonders what an overabundance of alcohol does to someone like Frank Castle--someone who is already so intense, so physical. Someone who already isn’t afraid to cry in front of her, who isn’t afraid to show emotion--would he close himself off, shut down? Would he laugh more? Would he touch her more than the casual touches she already receives? Would he kiss her? A thrill runs through her at the thought. She stays firmly planted on the couch, fighting the urge to grab the whiskey in her cupboard and put her theory to the test. 

“What about you?”

“What?”

Frank fixes her with an amused look. “The last time you were sideways.”

“Oh. A couple weekends ago, Foggy came over.” She smiles, remembering. “Marcie was out of town so he brought over the wine and we did--well, this. Take out and wine. A lot of wine.”

There’s an expression on his face she can’t figure out. A mixture of forced casualness, of caution, of amusement. “So this is--...” He pauses, takes a drink of his wine, starts again. “This is what you do with your other friends?”

Two thoughts settle into the sudden ache in her chest at his words. That on one hand he does, in fact, consider her a friend. She’s not just a warm body to keep the loneliness at bay. Which she’s known that for a long time, of course. They trust each other in the way that only two people who have gone through a number of life-changing and dangerous ordeals together can--why wouldn’t they be friends? The second thought is how carefully he speaks the word friends, as if solidifying the idea. As if reminding her of their relationship status. As if to say, we’re friends, and I know you want more--but I can’t. So we’re friends.

“Yep. This is what I do with my other friends. All two of them.” The joke falls flat, overshadowed by the catch in her voice. Karen finishes off her glass of wine and decides she will get out the whiskey after all. Even if he doesn’t drink it, she needs something a little stronger than just another Rosé. She starts to get up, but his hand catches her ankle and keeps her firmly in place.  

“You’re upset.” He looks at her cautiously from under a furrowed brow. His hand doesn’t lift from her skin, and it sends an unfair thrill through her. Karen’s toes curl before she can stop them, pushing against his thigh. 

“I’m not upset.”

He frowns. “And now you’re lying. Did I say somethin’?”

She doesn’t want to lie to him. She also doesn’t want to tell him the truth. There’s a nagging thought in the back of her mind that says if she’s honest with him, he’ll be scared off. He’ll decide her feelings are too much for him to handle, and then he’ll leave. Again. 

Her heart couldn’t bear it. 

Karen tugs her leg out of his grasp and sets her feet on the carpet. He sits forward, trying to capture her eyes again. “Karen,” he says gently. It’s cautious and worried, and so completely Frank in the way he grinds out her name that the words escape her before she can stop them. 

“It’s nothing, Frank. We’re friends, and that’s all, and I’m being selfish wanting more. I’ve just been--I’m not trying to--...” she glances over helplessly, but he’s giving her a look that she can only describe as stricken. She looks away quickly, desperate for a change of topic. Desperate to pull herself out of the hole that she’s dug for herself. There’s a brief moment of silence where she tries to decide what to do, outside of leaping from her fire escape, and then she hears Frank move. The cushion dips next to her. Warm fingers intertwine with her own, and then his lips are pressed to the back of her hand. 

“Shit, Karen,” Frank murmurs, exasperated. “For a smart woman, you’re bein’ pretty stupid.”

She’s still stuck on her fact that his breath is dancing over her skin, and that he’s pressed against her side, and that he still hasn’t released her. That he hasn’t gotten up and made a hasty exit. His words barely register. “What?” she asks weakly. 

“Curtis and I did a lot of talkin’ this weekend,” he says, staring to look her in the eye. The sudden change of topic throws her off balance. Before she can get a word in, he’s continued on. His thumb strokes her palm. “And a lot of it was dumb shit. We talked about his new apartment, the one he had to get after Billy shot up his old one. He says it gets a lot of sunlight. He talked about how the vet group is going and what team he thinks will win the World Series this year. It was good, and easy. We talk about some hard stuff too. We talked about Maria and the kids, and the war, and you.”

She’s not sure she likes being in the ‘hard’ category, but he seems to be edging towards a point, so Karen remains quiet. 

“And after we talked through all that other stuff, Curtis told me I was bein’ an idiot. He told me that you’re a good woman, and an even better friend. That I needed to make a decision before someone else made it for me.” He pauses, looking away. In the following silence, she digests his words and tries to keep the hope from blossoming in her chest. His hand is still warm in hers, and the earthy, woodsy smell of him fills her nose. 

He doesn’t speak long enough for Karen to finally hedge, “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Frank.”

He turns back to her and offers a tiny, nervous smile. Not many things make a man like Frank Castle nervous, and the thought eases some of the tension from her body. She grips his fingers and holds her breath. 

“I’m tryin’ to tell you that I’m yours, if you’ll have me. I don’t want to be friends, Karen. I want you. I want more, too.”

In retrospect, her next words could have been a little more eloquent. She could have taken an extra second to think of something romantic and elated. Something that matches his earnestness. What she actually says is, “Frank Castle, you’d better quit keeping me waiting and kiss me.”

His eyes widen briefly, and then he’s grinning at her. His free hand cradles her cheek and between one breath and another he’s doing just that. Karen wont admit to herself how often she thought of this moment, but she does think about how every imagining doesn’t come close. She never could have pictured the tenderness with which he kisses her or the feeling that swells inside her. There’s no daydream in the world that compares to the softness of his lips or the sensation of his beard against her chin. She fists one hand in his coat, letting the other drift up into his hair. It’s longer, curling at his temple, and when she gently tugs he lets out a groan that makes her shiver. His tongue swipes at her bottom lip and she grants him access eagerly. The kiss devolves into wandering hands, heaving breaths, and the distinct feeling that Karen is being carefully, intimately devoured. 

After some time, Karen forces herself to pull away. Frank backs off immediately, a flash of concern in his gaze, but she gives him a small smirk, smoothing her hands over the hard planes of his chest. 

“How do you feel about me taking off the shirt now?” she asks casually. 

Her meaning sinks in quickly. His fingers grasp at the hem, dancing along the bare skin on her hips. Frank gives her a mischievous, sinfully attractive smile. “If you’re comfortable,” he repeats, and then drags his shirt up and over her head.

The buzzer on the dryer goes off in the background, but Karen has never been less inclined to attend to it than she is now. In fact, she thinks, if wearing his shirt gets this reaction, I may never do laundry again. 

It’s a nice thought, but then Frank lips meet her shoulder and she doesn’t think about laundry for a long, long time.

[girlmeetsliv3]

Lilies of the Valley IX

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

  “A flower is beautiful in every state of life. I, however, find that it is most beautiful right before it blooms.”

Release Date: 06/15/20 @  7 pm

previously ~ next

Her bout lasted a couple of days. YN could barely eat or sleep without fearing that the raging alpha would come after her, that her family didn’t want her anymore, that her mates were just dragging her along. These worries echoed loudly around her head, so loudly YN felt her ears ringing, but on the outside, she remained stoic. Emotionless. It worried her mates, but in her state of turmoil, she had begun to rely more on them. More than she was comfortable with, but it felt nice to be cared for - to be nurtured. They were in the living room some superhero movie playing on-screen, as they all lay on the floor. There were couches, but there wasn’t enough space for all eight of them - so the floor it was. The men, notably the alphas, had remained riled and their scent created a thick layer in the room. YN knew she shouldn’t enjoy it, but it was warm and soothed the negative thoughts in her head.

“Are you comfortable?” Taehyung looked up at her from her lap where his head was resting. They had become a lot more touchy as of late, but YN was starting to resign herself to the idea that this is what her life would be. She offered him a small smile, but from the way, his eyebrow arched YN knew Taehyung was unconvinced. His hand reached up, caressing her cheek gently. The tip of his fingers brushed her lips and YN couldn’t tell if it had been accidental or not. “You’ll have to organize my room next,” Taehyung spoke, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Ah, that.

Rosé had come to visit YN the day after everything happened to distract her when YN suddenly had the urge to rearrange her room. She couldn't describe it, but it had started when her eyes landed on her dresser and YN realized its position felt off. Once that had been fixed she didn't like the way her bed area seemed too crowded. Eventually, the whole room had been moved around and YN was even considering painting it when Jungkook had walked in looking rather perplexed. Rosé had laughed and simply muttered, "She's nesting." It hadn't ended there though as the dining room, office, and living room all had their layouts changed. None of them complained and she had an inkling they secretly enjoyed it. It meant she was becoming comfortable, starting to feel at home.

“Hyung, pay attention,” Jungkook complained, his eyes darting between the two of them before focusing back on the screen.

Taehyung rolled his eyes but did as told. YN's eyes drifted toward the clock on the wall, it was nearly midnight, though she didn't feel tired at all. Jimin and Yoongi had fallen asleep with the former curled up by Hoseok and the latter sharing Namjoon with Jungkook. In the span of a few minutes, Taehyung had closed his eyes and YN knew he too would be asleep soon. All the alphas remained awake each watching the movie with varying levels of interest. Seokjin shifted behind her, his hand tangling itself in her hair and making soothing circles. "What's wrong? Aren't you tired?" YN shook her head, preferring not to answer the first question. Seokjin leaned down and pressed a kiss on her shoulder, near the bite mark, before nuzzling his nose along her neck.

He was scenting her and despite the chills that traveled up her spine, it did relax her. Causing her to lean back onto the alpha’s chest while he smiled. “Tell us what’s wrong.” It felt more like an order than a suggestion, but Seokjin’s pheromones had spiked and their sweet scent lulled YN. Made her want to get closer. Feel more of him. Open up to him.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” It was Namjoon this time, when YN turned her head she found him closer than ever. A few inches away from her face. Fear bubbled up in her stomach but was washed away as Seokjin’s plump lips trailed kisses through her jawline. He was encouraging her to speak, to be honest, and YN was like an old dam. All she needed was a small crack - a leak - and she would burst.

“Of everything. Of you.”

“Of me?” Namjoon questioned, his brow twitching ever so slightly, but he didn’t look upset.

“Of all you.”

“Why?” The lead alpha asked again. Seokjin’s kisses became quicker, sloppier, and YN became aware of another presence near her. Hoseok’s hands softly moved up and down her sides, tickling her ever so slightly. It was all becoming a bit much.

“I don’t know.”

Namjoon tsked in disappointment. “I think you do know, just won’t admit it.” His hooded eyes trailed down her features, landing on her lips before moving back up to her eyes. YN was at a loss for words, unsure of everything. Another body joined them, YN felt warm breath hit her ear before Jungkook’s calm words reached them. “You’re safe. Don’t worry you’re safe.” His tone was soft, delicate, barely above a whisper as if he was afraid of scaring her. YN analyzed every bit of Namjoon’s face: his brows, almond eyes, strong nose, and his pink full lips.

"Namjoon -" In that second, Seokjin's teeth scraped against her scent gland - against her bite mark - and YN couldn't stop the moan that tore through her lips. Reacting instinctively Namjoon closed the distance between them, his lips brushing hers in a passionate fervor. They were anxious, desperate as if he had been waiting forever. As if he was afraid she would disappear soon. The second his lips touched hers YN melted. A warm fuzzy feeling overtaking her and she felt complete. As their kiss continued YN began to wonder if this was what the bond felt like. If this is how the other's felt around each other. Surely it must be it. It feels like a warm hug, soft pillows, the crackling of a fire. It would be gone soon but it felt nice to have experienced it.

When they finally parted YN felt content, which was unusual in the presence of the men, she expected Namjoon to feel the same. But when she glanced up at his eyes she saw something different. His pupils were extremely dilated and there was something animalistic about how Namjoon stared at her. He looked as if he had just taken a bite out the forbidden fruit and wanted more.

She hadn’t reorganized Taehyung’s room much to the betas displeasure, but YN had spent the entire lounging next to the pool. She wasn’t planning on going swimming, but still laid under the sun with a blue dress covering her shoulders. YN had always preferred being alone, even before presenting she had been pretty introverted, it simply became worse after. The scent of lilies hit her nose and YN subconsciously smiled, she had always enjoyed flowers for they represented a simpler time for her. Her school had a garden filled with lilies and the various flowers had been so beautiful to her. Having them planted in the backyard was a nice touch, but she couldn’t figure out the significance of them to the men. Why lilies? Her mind briefly wandered towards what the tattoo artist had said: that she smelled like lilies. Jungkook had even encouraged a lily tattoo but it couldn’t possibly be because of her that they’d planted those.

YN shook her. That’d be ridiculous. She closed her eyes, enjoying how the sun felt on her skin before a dark shadow blocked it. “Mind if we join?” Jimin stood in front, Yoongi by his side, and YN heard a big splash before seeing Taehyung emerge from the pool. “Sure.” Jimin smiled before scooping down and pecking her lips. It shocked her, to say the least, but Jimin simply chuckled before joining Taehyung in the pool. Yoongi took a seat next to her, his lounge chair barely a feet away, but YN was grateful that he simply laid down and closed his eyes. It gave her time to think.

There had been a shift between them since the incident, but YN assumed that it was mainly them being overprotective. After last night’s kiss, and subsequently Jimin’s kiss, she wasn’t so sure anymore. It was true that without another alpha willing to mate YN was stuck with them and the longer she spent with them, the less bothered she was by it. What did concern her was how giddy they were. This morning YN had been dragged out by Jungkook to have breakfast with all of them and they all seemed excited. It gave her whiplash and YN didn’t know if she wanted the relationship to progress at such a rapid rate. Her hand flew up to massage her temples as she felt a growing headache.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi was leaning over now, a concerned look on his face. “Nothing,” YN replied, though her delivery may have been a bit harsh. Instead of flinching or becoming upset Yoongi reached massaging her neck before kissing her forehead tentatively. “There. All better.” YN wanted to ask Yoongi what was going on but was interrupted by Hoseok coming out of the house. Namjoon trailing behind him.

“Ready to go?” YN briefly wondered what he meant before remembering what Namjoon had mentioned during breakfast. “I rescheduled the doctor’s appointment for this afternoon. It’ll be a little late because we have to get some work done.” YN excused herself from the beta’s not missing the way they pouted.

           “Lily wait!” YN skidded to a stop to see Taehyung running at her at full speed, the droplets of water glistening as they fell oof his body. Once he reached her, YN expected Taehyung to kiss her the way Jimin had, but instead, he kissed her bite mark. Laughing at her expression before salaciously winking. The others only chuckled at him before Jimin called him back to the pool claiming he was lonely. YN walked back towards Namjoon and Hoseok finding pleased expressions on both their faces. She took a deep breath before sighing loudly.

           “C’mon YN. Let’s go.”

Sorry this chapter kind of sucked, but I promise the next one will be incredibly important.

Tag List:

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[allsassnoclass]

hiiii hazel!! top 5 petunia pictures & top 5 youngblood lyrics!!

hiiiiiiiiiii maya thank you for asking i am happy to answer these!!!!!

Petunia pics!!! I love her so much did you know that????? i had more petunia pics saved than lashton pics. this decision was also a lot harder than the lashton pics because she's adorable in every pic she's part of

1. The Hoodie Sequence - petunia in a hoodie is my absolute favorite thing ever

2. The Origin - he loved her so much from the beginning!!!! And look how much she loved him!!! Look at that face!!!

3. she's so cute i'm losing my mind

4. LOOK AT HER!!!!

5. there are so many pictures that could go here i tried to add more but tumblr would only let me do ten images and i already used three for the hoodie sequence

top 5 youngblood lyrics

1. "Flashing back to New York City / Changing flights so you stay with me / Remember thinking that I got this right" and then the later change to "Problem was I thought I had this right" from Lie to Me - okay so as an actor/storyteller I think a lot about how to make things feel more relatable and truthful to others and it's often in the specificity, which feels like it should be the opposite? but Denzel Washington agrees with me lol this is acting advice that he gave to Michael B Jordan once. But basically the more specific that you are with details the more fleshed out and real your story is, which bleeds over into other aspects of it even if those details aren't necessarily relevant (this is why I'm a big fan of actors in plays having to do hot seat interviews and think about little details that might not be present in the script, such as their character's favorite food or childhood memories, because it helps sculpt a fully fleshed-out character and makes the performance feel more real despite the actor obviously acting). anyway i'm going on a tangent but that's what this lyric is to me. it's one of those specific details that makes the song feel more truthful and relatable. i've never been in nyc and changed my exes flight so we could have more time together, but I know the feeling of wanting to spend more time with someone I love and trying to make that happen, and I can relate to thinking that you were doing things right in a relationship (platonic or romantic) only for it to fall apart on you anyway because of things that you either didn't want to see or that they withheld from you. this got so long i'm so sorry but i felt like i had to justify why such a small lyric is my favorite on the album lol

2. "That my feet don't dance like they did with you" from Ghost of You - I LOVE when people switch one line at the end for some impact and that's exactly what they did here and it HITS. also. as a dancer. OUCH

3. "Thinking 'bout you lots lately / have you been eating breakfast alone like me?" from Moving Along - I don't know why I like this one so much but I just do! It strikes a very clear picture in my mind. It's such an easy way to show what the narrator and you-character used to be vs. what they are now. also, similar to the first point! a little detail in the story that makes it feel truer and therefore makes it more relatable, even if you can't relate to the exact scenario of having breakfast dates with someone and now having to eat them alone

4. "The stupid truth is I'm so bad for you" from Monster Among Men - I really love this song! I like that the narrator is the one who is like "I am not good for you we're not doing this again," which I feel isn't necessarily a perspective you always get, I feel like in songs it's usually the person who gets hurt who is narrating. I also like the use of the word stupid here.

5. All of Babylon. I can't pick out a specific line because I think all of it is really well crafted lyrics. They're some of the most poetic lyrics they have, especially with the amount of rhyme and assonance, but it still clearly tells a story and leans into the metaphor of babylon well. there's a reason this is my favorite song!!!

ask me top 5 anything

[emu-lumberjack]

Don’t Answer the Phone tired Part 3

Damian’s left at the mercy of his brothers, and he really needs to start paying attention.

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

Hi guys, I’ve had probably too much caffiene late at night but heres the next part to Don’t Answer the Phone Tired. Some backstory and croissants are in order. I promise next time more Marinette. also as a side note, the Kipo soundtrack is amazing to write too. 

Part one

Part two

Part four

part five

“Since you pricks are insistent on being social, tell me how Gotham is.” Damian asked his brothers, downing a swig of coffee.

“Oh you know dark, gloomy, and full of rouges.” Dick said “But enough about Gotham. Tell us about Paris, specifically a special somebody.”

“No.” The voice he used was cold and curt. “Where do you want to eat.”

“I think there's a bakery nearby.” Jason said with a grin, the exhausted Damian didn’t put two and two together until they were at the door of the Dupain-Cheng bakery. “Shit.” Damian turned around to leave, only for Jason to pick him by his hood and look him straight in the eyes.

“Now listen here Demon spawn. We’re hungry and poor Timmy over there is freezing cold after the nice little ice bath you gave him.” A glance over to Tim saw the poor boy shivering in his still wet clothes. “So we are gonna go in there and grab some nice warm pastries. Unless there's a reason we shouldn’t, but I couldn’t think of one could you?” Damian silently cursed his mother for teaching Jason to be such an ass, more so than he normally was. He kept his mouth shut knowing it would be worse for him to say that this was Marinette's bakery.

The party walked there normal mismatch of aesthetics. The bakery smelled like warm bread and freshly baked cookies. Like Marinette. It was enough for Damian to temporarily relax and let loose a breath he’d been holding for the last hour. This change in demeanor wasn’t missed by Dick but the elder boy chose not to comment.

“Hello and welcome to the Dupain-Cheng Bake…… Oh Damian it’s you. Wait, why aren’t you at school? Is Marinette alright?” Sabine came out from behind the counter, turning off her customer service voice the minute she saw it was Damian.

“Yes Sabine she’s completely fine. In fact she made sure I got up in time.” He motioned with his coffee mug. “A real lifesaver. The reason I’m not there now is because my brothers decided they just needed to come visit me in Paris so my dad called me out for the day.” Sabiene looked at the 3 other men in the room before responding,

“Oh how delightful, you never speak of your family. I was starting to think you just hatched out of an egg somewhere.” A snicker from the boys in the back, “well no matter we must sit down and talk, I’d love to get to know them!” it was then that she noticed Tim in all of his drenched glory, “I can also lend you some of Tom’s old clothes while yours dry.”

“Oh if that wouldn’t be too much of a bother, someone thought they were funny and tried to get me up in a not so polite manner.” He glared at Damian, the latter pointedly ignoring him.

Sabine caught on to his meaning quickly and stifled a laugh “Oh it's no problem at all, they might be a bit big though.”

Ten minutes later they were situated around the table on the upper level, hot coffee in front of Jason, Tim, and Damian while Sabine and Dick both had tea. The boys had chosen different pastries. Dick went with a blueberry scone, Tim who was now sitting in a much too big white shirt and comically oversized pants for his frame had a classic butter croissant and Jason went with a pain au lait. Damian having already eaten just sat sipping his coffee.

“So Ms. Dupain-Cheng..” Dick Began.

“Oh please just call me Sabiene” She interrupted.

“Alright Sabine, Damian’s been less than forthcoming about his time here in Paris, would you be able to fill in some gaps? Like how he and Marinette met.” Damian kicked Dick from underneath the table.

“Oh I’d be happy too! It’s actually a rather cute story. Damian had just moved to Paris and was having trouble making any friends, Marinette had taken note of that and asked me and Tom, he’s my husband you’d meet him but he’s out of town right now, so she asked Tom and me to help make this boy in her class some macaroons to help him get more accustomed to Paris. We thought to remind him of Gotham so we made them Batman and Robin themed. We actually probably have a picture of them around here somewhere.” She mumbled the last bit to herself as Damian steadily slunk down in his chair attempting to hide from looks his brothers would throw his way. “Well anyway the next day they were in class, and since they sat next to each other she tried to offer him the macaroons then, but Damian being Damian didn’t want to take them. Something about not liking sweets. Instead of shying away she just split one in half and asked him to just try that.”

“I can take it from here Sabine.” Damian's voice surprised even him, but the boy knew what was coming next and it would be less embarrassing if he said it.

“Of course, you were there so you probably know it better anyway.”

Three predatory gazes settled on Damian taking note of everything he said to rely to Bruce, Damian took a breath and continued, “I took the half she offered me out of politeness, after all Sabine you and Tom worked very hard on them. They were probably some of the best Macaroons I’d ever had. Marinette left the box between the two of us on our desk and went back to her school work. When she wasn’t looking I took another one, I hadn’t eaten breakfast and it was a very nice gesture.” Damian looked up to see Dick holding his hand over his mouth, concealing a squeal most likely. Todd was looking at him with laughter in his eyes, and even Drake had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Anyway I ended up eating the entire thing, after class Marinette and I started talking more, and eventually we just ended up hanging out outside of class playing video games and the like.”

“Oh my Gosh that is so adorable.” Grayson was the first to speak after Damian finished. “Damian I never knew you could be so… so…”

“Nice?” Tim supplied.

“Yes nice!”

“I’m mainly focusing on the fact that Damian was kind enough to actually have her keep up conversation after the first one.” Jason was looking at Damian incredulously.

“Ah I see his prickly attitude is not a recent development.” Sabine said, taking a sip of her tea.

“That would be an understatement. Although believe it or not he’s actually a lot better then when we first met him.” Dick said politely.

The five of them sat quietly trading stories of Gotham and Paris, Damian firmly keeping them off the topic of him and Marinette. Cups of tea and coffee came and went until a cheerful voice called from the foyer “Mamman I’m home!” Damian immediately sprinted downstairs and tackled Marinette in a bearhug.

“Please never leave me alone with them again.”

She just laughed and said “Was it really that bad Dames?” Tim who had just walked downstairs startled chuckling.

“What’s so funny Drake?” Damian said icily.

“The fact she called you Dames! Last time I think someone tried to do that you had a katana at their throat and they were found hanging upside down from one of the gargoyles at Gotham academy.”

“Did you seriously do that Damian?” Marinette focused her gaze on him.

“Ok in my defense it’s also because he wouldn’t stop coming onto me even though I had said no. I mean he wasn’t even my type.”

“Oh and what is your type then?” She asked.

“Blue hair with gorgeous blue eyes. A complete klutz half the time, while still somehow managing to keep seven layer cakes from falling down. Someone who will draw and sketch to their heart's content, while simultaneously dealing with a dumbass. Also doesn’t hurt if they can make the most beautiful clothes.” He planted a small kiss on Marinette's cheek just to emphasize.

“Seriously, how did you do that.” Tim’s voice cut through the moment, Damian turned towards him annoyed.

“Now that is a story for after lunch. How bout we go grab some sushi and we’ll tell you.”

Not again.

Tag list (I’m assuming if you wanted to be tagged in part two you want to be tagged here, if not: welp you are anyway): 

@ur-average-reader @kristycocopop @k-laconia-bug1 @smolplantmum @dast218 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @acoursedprophetwithasmothie @g-arya @loysydark @mewwitch @itsemeanne @hauntedstudent99 @shippernaturalsanderspjoandscifi @purplesundaze

general writing tag: 

@clumsy-owl-4178

[cambionverse]

envesseled (1 of 3): poker

HELLO >:)

so. as you may have noticed, the last time we posted anything about envesseled (the claire-centric, claire-pov fic intended to follow jesse's fic cambion and ben's fic only human) was in 2013. did we forget about it? did we cancel it? is the verse abandoned? no, no, and no. we had a lot of stuff to rewrite to get the verse in the right place for envesseled, and then we got busy, and THEN there was a pandemic. but it was never very far from our minds, and now it is FINALLY time for this to be the next thing we post.

most of the fans of this verse have been with us for a very long time. for being so patient, and so supportive, we decided to post not one, not two, but THREE scenes from the in-progress envesseled, for everyone to enjoy, but especially for the people who were readers when we posted the last one (again, in 2013, eight entire years ago). we aren't committing to a posting date yet, but we are ALL much closer to the end of this wait than the beginning.

this particular scene is only mildly spoilery and doesn't have any major content warnings to watch out for, aside from a mention of the ticking clock on claire's grace. it also introduces the minor character patrick, from spn episode 5.07, who has been on our cast page for some time; finally you can get some idea of what (small yet important) role he might play in this story. there are two more previews after this before the night is over - we hope you enjoy them.

---

Lucky for Claire, there's already a poker game in progress when she pushes the door of the pub open in a swirl of cold air. The man who wins the next hand looks younger than the others by far, though there's something about him that Claire can't quite place. He catches her eye across the bar and smiles around a toothpick as his compatriots grumble and wander away with their meager winnings.

"Room for one more?" says Claire, laying the sweetness on thick and her money on the table.

He waves a hand at the now-empty chairs. "I'm Patrick."

Surely he's faking that Irish accent; it's even more ridiculous than Jesse's Australia-Nebraska hybrid. And with the name Patrick, no less. "Amelia," Claire says, and pretends the accompanying flare of pain is only because she told a lie.

"Amelia," says Patrick, with an odd emphasis on the last two syllables. "You remind me of someone I once knew." He hands her a stack of poker chips and begins dealing out cards.

Claire leans forward so her braid falls over her shoulder and says, "How did you end up here, Patrick?"

He doesn't take the opportunity to look down her shirt, which is all the more irritating because she had half-hoped he wouldn't. "Luck," he says, snapping the k. He glances at his cards. "It's often on my side."

Lie. Claire doesn't often get such strong feedback from general statements like that, but this one burns. She ups her bet by more than she otherwise would have, careful to keep her voice neutral. "That must come in handy."

"Well, that is what we Irish are known for." He flips another chip onto the pile. "Ignoring the whole bit about the famines, of course. Pots of gold don't make very good eating."

Claire cracks a smile completely involuntarily, and brings a hand up much too late to hide it. Patrick quirks one eyebrow. His eyes stay on Claire's face for a long time, though, as his expression slides into something sadder.

She wouldn't, usually, but Claire asks, "Who was it?"

Patrick blinks, and the smirk is back in place like it never left. "Who was who, darling?"

"You said I reminded you of someone."

"She was a dancer." Patrick takes a chip from his considerable pile and spins it between two fingers. "Held herself like you do, especially when she was angry. Like if she didn't hold herself tight she'd float right up in the air."

Claire's muscles go even tenser when he says that, because he's not supposed to notice. "Raise," she says, dropping the chips in the pile.

Patrick exhales. "She wasn't much of a poker player." He puts his cards down, and slides them back into the deck before she can see them. "I fold."

Claire scoops the pile of chips toward her, stacking them carefully by value. Patrick's first bet this round was high, the highest he's played all game; why did he drop the bluff so fast? With this, plus the little extra hidden in her backpack, and if she's willing to eat vending machine food for breakfast—

The door opens, and a low hum starts up in the back of Claire's head. She knows who it is before Ben ever reaches the table.

"Claire!"

Patrick's eyes narrow the slightest margin. "Claire, is it?"

Fuck, and now she's been made, and he probably won't pay out and she'll have to sleep in a fucking snowbank because Ben Braeden can't keep his mouth shut. She opens her mouth the bare minimum required to say, "Leave."

She hears him settle harder on his feet but continues to stare at her cards. Patrick folded. She doesn't even have one pair.

"I know you don't forgive me yet," Ben says, and Claire breathes out hard. "But there's something Jesse and I need to—"

"I said leave, Ben," and she's turning to glare at him even though she wanted to play this cool. His cheeks are glowing red from being out in the cold, and a little behind him, far enough back to have a clear path to the door, Jesse's watching her too. When he sees Claire looking, his eyes drop to the floor.

"No, you don't get it," Ben begins, but Patrick interrupts.

"Is there a problem here?"

Ben seems to realize there are other people around, and he slides on his most affable grin. Claire can see how it's going to go, Ben charming everyone in a ten-foot radius, what a nice guy he is. Well, not if she gets there first.

"Yeah, there is," she says, savoring the lack of pain because it's true. "This asshole has been bothering me all night. I came here to get away from him."

"Oh, come on," says Ben, already rolling his eyes, but Claire said it loud enough that quite a few people heard her and some of them are starting to mutter. He notices, and ducks closer to her. "Look, Claire, can we just go?"

Patrick stands up. "I believe the lady asked you to leave."

Ben gives him a once-over. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I don't think you want to know the answer to that," says Patrick. His smile is not kind. "I suggest you be on your way."

Claire's not surprised to see Ben's jaw set at that. "Dude, this is so not your business," he says. "I know her, okay? We've been friends for years. I just want to talk to her."

Patrick bites a toothpick idly. "Think she can decide for herself who she wants to talk to."

Ben looks like he might be feeling stupid enough to throw a punch, but then Jesse is there at his side, one hand finding its way to the back of Ben's neck. Ben calms down instantly with Jesse touching him and Claire has been so, so painfully oblivious to never see this for what it was.

When Patrick notices Jesse his arms drop, and suddenly the air feels weird. "And who's your friend?"

"I'm nobody," says Jesse, though Claire would bet her pile of hypothetical money that his other hand is on the knife at his belt. "Just don't want to see this get out of hand."

Patrick looks at all three of them like links in a chain. "And did you not hear the lady's request, nobody?"

"Maybe you should stop talking for her, how 'bout," Ben retorts.

Claire appreciates the help, she supposes, but really what she wants is to be done with the displays of aggression and for everyone to leave her alone. "Go away, Ben," she says, and it comes out tired even to her own ears. He slumps a little deeper into Jesse's grip, and that's exactly the problem.

"Claire—"

"We're going," says Jesse, finally looking away from Patrick to catch Claire's eye again. He lowers his voice. "We'll be waiting outside."

"You'll be waiting a long time," Claire says, one parting shot for them to remember her by. "I do hope you two can find some way to occupy yourselves."

They both flinch, and Claire turns back to the table with bitter satisfaction in the back of her throat.

Patrick settles back into his seat, eyes still on the door. "You do have interesting friends."

"They're not my friends," says Claire. The lie burns like whiskey.

Patrick raises an eyebrow at her. "No? Then what are they?"

"We were playing," Claire says pointedly. When he doesn't move, she grabs the deck and starts to shuffle herself.

"I am playing," Patrick retorts. If he starts to go on about how you don't play the cards, you play the person, she might have to hit him herself. Instead he leans back and chews on his toothpick. "Let me see if I got it straight. You and Ben, you've been friends for a long time."

Claire places her bet, refusing to acknowledge that he's still talking. There's nothing impressive about repeating back what Ben let slip.

"And you're not one to make friends easily, are you, Amelia." She does look up at that, and Patrick, smirking, corrects himself. "Claire."

She deals the next card.

"So maybe you thought Ben was something special. But you didn't trust yourself with him. So you told him to wait."

"Raise," Claire says, and she doesn't even have that good a hand but she wants to clean him out. He won't stop fucking smiling.

"Some people would wait, you know," says Patrick. "Some people would wait a very long time."

Some while back Ben had told her, There is nobody else. Well. I'm nobody, Jesse said. Claire turns out her hand. "Triple sixes."

Patrick sighs. "You're letting me get to you, love. Can't play a good game if your mind's out that door." He tosses his cards onto the table in front of her. "Full house, and I'm guessing you could've used this cash. Quit while you've got any left." He drags the chips out of her reach.

Claire picks up his cards and the rest of the deck. "We're not done playing."

"All that ice isn't going to keep you safe forever." Patrick leans back. "Deal."

And because Claire is tired, and lost, and vindictive, she lets the cards slide through her hands with that special twist Ben taught her.

Patrick nudges a considerable pile of chips into the middle of the table. "Some free advice for you, love," he says, eyes dark. "Your life's too short to pretend you want nothing and no one to come near your heart."

Her grace flares up even before she can shape the words I don't. He doesn't know how right he is—Claire's life is looking very short indeed, these days, and nothing Ben or Jesse can do will put a stop to the invasive light eroding her body from the inside out. Her heart's probably toxic by now anyway.

Claire takes a deep breath and shows her cards, spades all in a row just like she planned. "Straight flush."

Patrick tosses his hand onto the table. "Four aces."

"What?" But there they are, even though Claire could've sworn she cut the ace of diamonds into the middle of the deck and buried the ace of hearts even further down. She locks her teeth as soon as the word escapes, but it's too late; his cold smile tells her he knows what she did.

"I don't like cheaters," says Patrick. He places a polished wooden box on the table and begins gathering the chips back into it, along with any chance she had of getting a hotel room tonight. "And you, of all people, ought to value honesty. Better luck next time, Amelia."

Claire clenches her jaw. She stands to leave—then Patrick catches her hand.

"I'm not doing this for you," he murmurs, and she feels the papery crinkle of fresh bills on her palm. She grips the money instinctively even as she draws back, other hand curling into a fist. No one at all is watching them. But Patrick just looks at her, an unsettling depth to his gaze. "You should tell him how you feel," he says, and releases her.

Claire pockets the money and bolts before he can change his mind.

[penaltybox14]

DecoFiremen: No happy choice

@zeitheist @darknight-brightstar @squad51goals @its-skadi  Silky is sick in the city, and Josiah has to make some choices, and have some conversations.  Emotions are hard, yo.

It's never good, to see that look on Eddy's face.  His fighter's jaw is set, but his eyes are soft like ships on a dark harbor.  This is the face that bodes bad news, something Eddy can't fix with his hands, a hot cup of coffee or a knock about the ears.  When Josiah sees that look, after breakfast one late winter's day, the first thing he thinks is the state has come to call on Davey again.  He'd taken them in his teeth that day at the gate, and thought if not rid of them altogether, he'd bought them enough time to think of how to put them off for good.  It did wake him, though, to watch the high moon paint his quarters and fear the state might come back, with papers, with authority, with some force he could not bluff. 

(If they were to take Cleary now, he thinks, the boy would be lost forever.  He would be some shadow growing thinner and paler on the back ward of the state hospital, he would settle sure as smoke in that long dark hall of his or drown in the lake below the lawn.  For sure, he would.)

"No," Eddy says, his raw knuckles flexing, catching the rattle of Josiah's thoughts, "no, it ain't the young fella."

"So what is it, then?  You hear from town there's none left of those hot peppers the grocer pickles, that you eat whole from the stem?" 

Josiah's humor falls as flat and pale as vellum in the typewriter, gnawed down by keystrokes.

"Got a telegram from the city, Birchy."  Eddy grips the butcher-block of the back kitchen's table, leans, uprights, and leans again.  "Silky's gone down sick."

"Sick." Josiah has to steady himself.  His bad leg throbs like a bad dream that upends the day.  "Gone down sick?  Who sent it?"

"Hastings at 27.  He's at casualty down at Bellevue, thinking it's pneumonia."

He cannot go.  He cannot go: he is responsible here, the Captain of this house, their grounds.  He cannot go: to leave his post, to leave the lads, to leave the boy.  Worst of all, that: to leave the boy.  What kind of captain would he be then, to leave the newest and the rawest of recruits, who still trembles under the blunt wind of the sear and some days even falls to it?  Some damn bastard, he would be, but his heart and his bent leg howl as the breath of horses, carrying him surely to the city.  He was a coward once who left a hundred thousand words unanswered, the great sulk of an overgrown child.  It was not Silky's fault, was it, after all, that the roof had caved, that his body had broken under the greedy teeth of the timbers? 

But he had never told Silks that, had he.  And he could, now.  He could have the chance to say it again. 

"It's an awful long way, to the city."

"I haven't seen him since the promotion."

"You'd be leaving the boy."

"I know it."

"Do you?"

"I do know it, Eddy."

"Took you how long to answer a simple letter?  How long would you plan on staying?  Til he was well?  Til the dark took him?"

What a bitter kick in the chest, the fury rising up inside him so hard it makes his eyes water.  "Silks isn't going to die.  He didn't die in that damn fire and he won't now."

"If'n you go, Birch, I'll drive you to the station.  But you'll tell Lufty and Monroe and the lads, and most of all, young Cleary, where you're off to."

Lufty, he knows, will understand.  Lufty and Monroe both, are men who have swallowed smoke and coughed out grief in spatters on the sidewalk, ribs heaving under the weight of it.  Josiah was not the first fireman to be ground hard in the blaze's splintering teeth, he will not be the last. 

Though some days he feels as if he is the only fool to lose a brother by his own carelessness and greedy fury.  Fool, to lie shattered, dry and cracked and thirsty for the safe embrace of brick walls and floorboards that creak with midnight steps and men who roll over in starched sheets and roll over again.  Fool that Silks had sat for, holding the hand without the needle, speaking to him from far away through the ether and the lazy dream-fields of poppies and long sunshine.

But the boy, god, the boy. 

Whatever he does, he can't spare the boy.  Would that he could.  For his sear to have broke before his voice, the boy ought to be allowed to live a life of perfect grace, running the field with the lads and catching perch down in the pond, every line charged, every ladder strong, every jake out clear. 

Silks or Davey, he thinks, what'll it be, what choice do I have?

The sun sprawling across the yard has taken on the keener brass of springtime - the snow is still deep, the ice still thick enough to drive a double hitch onto, but the turn of the earth is winning out as she always does.  The lads sweat at their work - Lufty and Monroe have let ladders and ropes ice overnight, and each exercise begins with a clamor of ideas on how to handle the frozen gear.  Bertram and Jules are keen to lead, while Kitson, Jacob, and Lee, the newest lot, scamper about and skitter like fawns.  How funny, to see from the broad steps, that Davey knows nearly as much as a half-year, though he has not the strength yet.  He will, though.  There is an awkward, coltish grace about him.  Something he has not grown into.  Josiah woke one night when the sky was half-silver with stars and Davey was standing in his quarters like a ghost-child, the sear singing in their bones.  A long way to grow, that one.  A long, fine way.

Lufty catches him after lunch.  Lufty is harder at the edges, often, than Eddy has ever been.  Even when Josiah was still stiff about the collar in his new kit, Eddy was all bluff, and quick to mild.  Eddy would brawl for any jake among them.  Lufty was tougher to read, even after he was on the boards.  Lufty Parker was burned once, and badly, in a fire at the piers in Chelsea.  His scars creep up the side of his neck, and cup the back of his head like a brief and tender lover.  They invite no dormitory tales, only an edgy kind of sorrow.  Josiah had heard, in his rook year, that three men had plunged into the East River, but just one had come up.  The oakbellies, he had been told, had tried to make Lufty a captain, and he'd refused to show up for the ceremony.  They'd tried to make him a battalion chief, and he'd hopped the first train to Troy. 

So he had been told.

But Lufty knows the white rooms and white coats at Bellevue and the casualty ward.

"There's not no happy choice to make, Birchy," Lufty says to him in his office.

 "It's just not gonna be so.  That said, it's not about if you goes, I think, it's about if you're coming back."

"You think I won't?"

"I know you will.  But it's not me what needs convincing."

Josiah sighs.  His leg is tight, aching, and he ought to stretch it out.  But he's afraid if he ventures out now, he'll run into Davey, breathless with some discovery.  "What am I supposed to say to him, Luft?"

"To Silks or the boy?"

"Either one."

"I couldn't say.  When I went into the river, I thought we'd all come out.  We had a fire at our heels and the river below us, and the last thing I remember before spitting up black water on the cobbles was Matty taking my elbow and Tom saying it'd be alright."

He's never heard this story, not from Lufty's taut lips and clenched teeth, so he stills like a boy in church and lets the old memory - the smell of creosote, and the greasy river, the snapping pilings and the blinding smoke - shiver on the air and fall as motes of golden dust.  The worst was not the plunge, was it, but the waking.

Alone. 

It's going to hurt them both, but crueler for the boy.

After Lufty leaves him to his battered thoughts, he sits at his desk until the dusk unravels into night.  The dinner mess bell clangs.  The lads thunder about downstairs like wild horses, shouting, stampeding.

He ought to get up now, go to the kitchens, get a bite.  Eddy is always after him to put something more than gristle and spite on his bones.  He plants his hands on his desk, ready to make the effort to stand, when of a sudden Davey's there, in the door.

Josiah has a good look at him, now, under the humming electrics.  Still too thin, for his widening shoulders.  Hair in need of a trim or at least a comb.  (He tries to do it like Bertram Cochrane, slicking the sides down, but the loose black curls are springing free by midday).  A tear in the shoulder of his shirt fixed by clunky, deliberate stitches.  A boy exuberantly ragged at the end of a long day. 

"Capper.  You weren't at mess."

Josiah pins a smile to the corner of his mouth like he means it.  "Eddy send you up?"

"No sir."

"I'll be down soon."

The boy hesitates.  "Capper?  Are you angry?"

"No.  Why would you say?"

"You been up here all day, Capper, that's all.  Eddy said - well I think he said, maybe I just thought of something he did say, you know, the sear said he - well you know.  Eddy's sear is so bright sometimes.  I forget.  Eddy said you used to get your hackles up and hide out in your quarters all day."

Josiah chuckles softly.  "He's right.  I did.  I'm not angry, m'son."

"What's wrong, then?"

"Come sit."  There is not gonna be no happy choice, said Lufty.  And there won't be, but he'd be crueler not to tell the boy. 

Davey comes round to his desk and pulls up a chair, as he does when they read and talk, about things Josiah knows - like radio manuals and floorplans and exit strategies - and things that Davey knows, like checkers and poems and music.  "I told you 'bout my pal, Silky.  You remember, his letters."

"Yes sir."

"He saved my life.  Before I was a captain."

"I dream that sometimes.  Like you know about the lake.  And Liddy."

Josiah picks up a pen and twirls it over the blotter.  His chest is tight, like breathing through a wet kerchief.  "Davey, Silky's very sick.  We got a telegram from his captain."  He takes a deep breath, pushing through it, like crawling under thick smoke, palming every door.  "He's in the hospital in the city."

Davey watches him through a child's lashes with eyes that pierce him like a brother.  Josiah longs for a horse between them, the calming stroke of the soft brush on the soot-dappled back.  He longs for the darkness between bunks, staring at the ceiling.  In the low, fragile light, Josiah sees the dampness welling up in Davey's eyes.  It is too hard to hide. 

Davey knows already.  He is biting his lip, as if he is already a young man. While he lay in a Bellevue bed, a needle in one arm, Silky had bent over the other, murmuring.  Josiah, from his awkward seat with his bad leg locked in its brace, leans forward in one great surge and takes the boy in his arms and holds him tight.  As close as his nightmares, as tight as his memories.  "I will come back.  I will, Davey, I promise you.  I'll come back."

The child's stumbling sear is a raw mess of questions, frantic as birds beating their wings against a low-slung slate-clouded sky.  He is crying.  Good, Josiah thinks.  Good that grief be open. 

"You promise," Davey whispers at last, hoarse with a sob and muffled deep into his chest.  "You got to promise, Capper."

"Promise. I promise, I promise.  As sure as I can't run, m'son, I promise I will come home."