#Bring Me the Horizon Wonderful Life

[m-a-d-e-l-e-i-n-e]

Can we admit now that this is a better album than we acted like it was in 2019

[shadowbannedthehedgehog]

actually my mental age is 27 bc my brain is already deteriorating <3

[sheena1234]

"Alone getting high on a Saturday night

I’m on the edge of a knife

Nobody cares if I’m dead or alive

Oh, what a wonderful life"

[gungieblog]

Bring Me The Horizon wonderful life

[timelapsequeen]

I cannot tell you how much I actually related to these lyrics rn

[thewulf]

Trust in the Tide || Paul Lahote

Summary: Request -Hello!! I loved your forever yours fic!! I was wondering if you could write another Paul Lahote fic where Bella goes to the cullens house and drags her sister Y/N along with. Paul isnt happy about this at all and gets very possessive of Y/N.

A/N: Okay this one is cheeeeeesy but really sweet :)

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Swan Sister Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

TW: Possessiveness, general twilight warnings

On an unusually warm afternoon, with the sun painting the waves in hues of amber and gold, you find yourself lounging on the sands of La Push beach. Beside you, Paul's presence is as comforting as the steady rhythm of the surf. Though known among his peers for his fierce temper and unyielding nature with you he's a different person—gentle, attentive, and uncharacteristically vulnerable.

You've been together for a year now ever since the day he imprinted on you. A single moment that forever changed the course of both your lives. In this year your relationship has blossomed into a deep and passionate connection with you often playing the role of his anchor, the calm in his storm.

As you sit there watching the gulls dance above the waves Paul's hand finds yours, his fingers lacing with yours in a familiar, comforting grip. His other hand brushes away a stray lock of hair from your face tucking it gently behind your ear. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" he murmurs. His voice low and warm carrying over the sound of the waves.

You nod while leaning into his side, feeling the solid strength of him. "It's perfect," you agree, allowing yourself a moment to bask in the simple joy of being here with him away from the complexities of your intertwined worlds.

Paul's gaze is fixed on the horizon, but you know his thoughts are never far from you. In these quiet, unguarded moments you see a side of him that no one else does. You see the vulnerability hidden behind the façade of the tough werewolf. It's a side he only shows to you. It makes your heart swell with a mix of affection and pride.

"Thanks for being here, you know," he says suddenly before turning to look at you with intense, sincere eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Your heart flutters at his words. A gentle reminder of the bond you share. "I'll always be here, Paul," you assure him by squeezing his hand. "No matter what."

In these moments with the salty breeze tangling your hair and the sound of Paul's steady heartbeat under your ear you feel an overwhelming sense of peace. Here, with him, you are home.

But your peaceful afternoon is abruptly shattered when Bella, her brow creased with worry but with a knowing smirk on her face, approaches the two of you on the beach. The sight of her alone is enough to tighten Paul's grip around your waist. His body tensing as if bracing for a storm.

"Whenever you aren't with Charlie, you're always here," Bella comments lightly. Trying to ease the tension with a touch of humor as she nods towards the two of you entwined on the sand.

You can't help but smile even as the worry in Bella's eyes belies her playful tone. "Can you blame me?" you reply with gesturing to the serene beach and then to Paul whose presence is a comforting constant in your life.

Paul attempted to lighten the mood despite the tension. He throws a quizzical glance at Bella. "What brings the vampire girl back down to La Push?" he jokes. Trying to elicit a smile but his voice betrays a hint of his underlying concern.

Bella's expression turns serious again as she ignores Paul’s attempt at humor. "It's Alice," she begins. Her voice dropping to a more urgent whisper. "She had a vision... and it involves you, Y/N. It's not clear, but it's serious enough that we think you should come to the house and talk about it."

Instantly, Paul's embrace tightens. His protective instincts flaring up. "No," he says flatly, his voice laced with a protectiveness that borders on aggression. "She’s not going anywhere near those bloodsuckers."

You squeeze his hand trying to calm the storm you see brewing in his eyes. "Paul, if it's about me… I need to know. I need to understand what's happening," you reason. Your voice a soothing counterpoint to his growling tone.

Bella looks between the two of you, her worry deepening. "It’s not clear what it means yet, but Alice saw a conflict... something that might escalate without your intervention. We think Y/N might be a key to preventing it."

Paul’s body is rigid with conflict. The thought of you walking into what he views as the lion’s den. A place where every instinct tells him you could be in danger, is tearing him apart inside. "You don't understand, Bella. I can’t just let her walk into a potential trap," he argues with his voice strained.

You look up at him. Your heart is aching at the pain and fear etched in his features. "Paul, I need to do this. Not just for me but for all of us. If there’s even a chance that my being there could help prevent a bigger conflict, we have to take it." Your voice is firm. Carrying the weight of your resolve. "I’ll be okay. I went to school with them, remember? They'd never harm a hair on my head."

Seeing the agony in his eyes you reach up to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I promise Pau, I'll come home right to you. Just wait for me, okay?"

Paul's face is a mask of conflict. He’s torn between his fierce instinct to protect and his deep trust in you. "It's not you I don't trust, you know that," he says, his voice tense. "It's them. It's walking you right into their world... without me even being able to be there to protect you."

You nod understanding his fear. "Paul, I'm Bella's sister," you remind him gently by playing to his more rational side. "They've known me almost as long as they've known her. They'd never hurt me. And this could help everyone. The pack even. Your brothers and sister. It could prevent a bigger conflict. Isn't that worth it?"

He looks out towards the sea, his jaw clenching as he processes your words. "And I can't even escort you there..." he mutters with frustration lacing every word.

With pleading eyes, you look back at him. "I need you to trust me on this," you say softly. "Trust that I'll be okay."

Paul stares into your eyes searching for something that might make this easier. Finally, with a guttural sigh, his resistance crumbles. "Alright," he murmurs. His voice rough with suppressed emotion. "But I’m holding you to that promise. You come straight back to me. Please." He adds with a soft smile.

You grin while squeezing his hand tightly ever so grateful for his trust and understanding. "I will, Paul. I promise." Sensing the weight of the moment you step closer to him before wrapping your arms around his neck. You press a lingering, tender kiss to his lips. A promise of your return sealed with the sweetness of your affection.

As you pull away your eyes lock with his communicating a depth of love and reassurance. "Wait for me," you whisper. It’s a soft plea mixed with a firm promise. He agrees. His expression a mix of resolve and vulnerability. The hard lines of his face softening at your touch.

With one last look you turn and follow Bella to her truck feeling the weight of Paul's gaze on you like a protective cloak. As you climb into the passenger seat and the truck pulls away his figure remains etched against the horizon. A silent sentinel watching over the path you'll return by.

As the truck bumps along the familiar forested road leading to the Cullen house Bella steals a few glances your way her earlier worry momentarily replaced by a hint of curiosity. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable but it's filled with the unspoken acknowledgment of the distance that has grown between you two. Yet, today, as the trees blur past there’s a tentative bridge being built in those stolen glances.

“You seem really happy, Y/N,” Bella finally says. The words careful but genuine. She adjusts her grip on the steering wheel focusing on the winding road but clearly intent on your response.

Your heart swells at the mention and you can't help but nod enthusiastically. “I am, Bella. Paul... he’s been amazing,” you reply. Your voice tinged with undeniable joy. “He’s so kind to me, you know? In ways that people don’t always see.”

Bella smiles, a soft, understanding smile that reaches her eyes. “I can tell. He looks at you like... like you’re his whole world.” Her tone is reflective, possibly recalling her own complex relationships. “It’s really nice seeing you so taken care of. Makes me feel less worried about dragging you into our... mess today.”

The road smooths out as you approach the Cullen’s long driveway and you let out a small, contented sigh. “Thanks, Bella. I know it’s a lot, with everything going on. But being with Paul, it feels right. Like I’m where I’m supposed to be.” You turn to her with a bright grin spreading across your face. “And don’t worry about today. We’ll handle it just like we handle everything else.”

Bella nods, her expression mixing relief with a bit of admiration. “I’m glad, Y/N. And I’m glad he’s good to you. We all need that… someone who makes us feel like coming home.”

The conversation lulls as the imposing structure of the Cullen house comes into view with its vast windows reflecting the cloudy sky above. Today might be filled with uncertainties but your heart holds on to the warmth of the conversation, the shared smiles, and the reassurance of your sister's concern, making you feel ready for whatever lies ahead.

As you step into the cool, grand interior of the Cullen house the atmosphere is charged with a mix of anticipation and tension. The Cullen’s are all present. Their expressions ranging from curious to concerned. Alice steps forward first with her slight frame contrasting the intensity of her gaze.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N," Alice says sincerely. "I know this isn't easy."

You nod feeling the weight of the situation but bolstered by the earlier conversation with Bella. "Let's just get to the bottom of this, Alice. What exactly did you see?"

Alice describes her vision in greater detail explaining that it involved a confrontation that could escalate tensions not just within Forks but potentially with other vampire groups. Your presence, she suggests, might symbolize a commitment to peace that could soothe rising fears.

Edward, ever the voice of reason, interjects thoughtfully. "I’ve given this some thought. Perhaps there's a way to communicate our intentions without requiring Y/N to be directly involved. We could send a message through Carlisle to the other leaders, clarifying our stance and our commitment to peace. Getting the pack involved this early seems… unwise." His soft smile towards you is comforting and you give him a quick nod back agreeing with his stance.

Jasper, who has been quietly assessing the mood, adds, "And I can reach out to my old contacts. They trust my judgment. If I explain the situation and our peaceful intentions it might help calm any unrest."

You listen to each suggestion feeling a sense of relief that there might be solutions that don't require you to be more involved than necessary. "Both sound like good plans," you agree. "My being here today is a show of good faith and hopefully that's enough. Showing that we're united in wanting peace might be the strongest message we can send."

Carlisle nods in agreement. His expression one of gentle authority. "I think that's wise. We appreciate your willingness to help, Y/N, and your insight has been invaluable. But let's minimize risk where we can."

Esme with her nurturing demeanor smiles warmly at you. "And we're here to support you not to make demands. Let's proceed with those ideas and keep communication open. Should we need you we know how to get ahold of you." She gestures to your sister who was looking more and more relieved.

As the meeting begins to wind down and everyone seems to agree on the proactive steps to take, Emmett can't resist lightening the mood. He leans slightly closer to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and pretends to sniff the air dramatically. "Y/N, you know I love you, but you kind of stink like wet dog today," he says with a broad grin, clearly teasing.

You can't help but laugh, shaking your head at his typical goofiness. "Emmett, you really never change, do you?" you reply. The laughter making your words light and easy.

Rosalie who was standing beside him rolls her eyes affectionately at her husband's antics but smiles at the exchange. It's clear they all value the levity Emmett brings, especially in tense situations.

"Hey, I'm just saying, maybe a little vampire sparkle wouldn't hurt," Emmett chuckles, winking at you.

As you leave the Cullen house, chuckling over Emmett's playful banter, you feel a genuine warmth from the exchange. It's moments like these in the middle of the gravity of supernatural politics that remind you of the strange yet comforting friendship you've found with the Cullen’s. They might be vampires, but their familial bonds and moments of humor aren't so different from what you find at home with Paul and the pack.

As Bella's truck pulls up to the familiar surroundings of La Push you can already see Paul waiting by the road, his posture tense with anticipation. The moment the truck stops he's at the door pulling it open with a haste that speaks volumes of his anxiety and relief.

"You're back," Paul breathes out. His voice thick with emotion as he helps you out of the truck. His hands are gentle but firm, as if he needs to physically feel that you're safe and sound.

"I'm back, just like I promised," you reassure him by reaching up to touch his face, feeling the rough stubble and the warmth of his skin. His eyes search yours looking for any sign of distress instead relaxing when he sees your calm demeanor.

Before you can fully turn to Paul you remember Bella, still seated in the driver’s seat, watching the exchange with a small smile. "Thanks, Bella. For everything today," you speak while giving her a grateful look.

Bella nods, her eyes softening. "Of course. Take care, you two," she replies. Her voice carrying a hint of relief at seeing you safe and sound with Paul.

Paul who was not one to hold grudges where your safety is involved, nods at Bella. "Thanks for looking out for her," he adds. His tone sincere despite the underlying tension of the day.

With a final wave Bella starts the truck again before pulling away from the curb as you turn back to Paul. His arms are already open, ready to pull you into a secure embrace. "I was worried, you know," he admits once Bella's truck has disappeared from sight, his voice low, almost a whisper against the breeze. "Every minute felt like an hour. But I trust you. I should have remembered that you can handle anything."

You smile softly as you were touched by his concern and his admission. "I know you were worried, and I love you for it," you say while pulling him close for a hug. "But I also knew everything would be okay. We had to make sure of that."

Paul nods, his expression softening as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. "I'm sorry for doubting. It's just hard when I think about anything happening to you."

"Nothing happened, Paul. And I had to go today to keep it that way," you explain, hoping he understands the importance of your actions today. Not just for yourself but for the peace it might ensure.

Paul takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling under your hands. "I get it now. I do. And I'm proud of you, Y/N. Really proud." His words are sincere and filled with a new respect for your judgment and your strength.

The two of you stand there for a moment, just holding each other, the sound of the waves in the background a soothing soundtrack to your reunion. Paul's hold tightens briefly as if reaffirming his promise to always be there for you.

"Why don't we just sit here for a while?" Paul suggests, gesturing towards the beach. "Enjoy the quiet and each other's company. No rush, just us." You grin, grateful for the peaceful end to an eventful day. Settling back onto the sand you lean against him feeling truly at home in his embrace. As the sun begins to set it painted the sky in fiery hues. You savor the moment of calm, the simple joy of being together.

As the evening air grows cooler and a gentle shiver passes through you Paul notices immediately. With a concerned furrow of his brow, he shifts closer, his arms reaching out to you. "Hey, come here," he says softly while pulling you gently towards him. Before you know it you're settled comfortably in his lap. His warmth enveloping you like a protective cloak.

Wrapped in his embrace you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of safety and love. Paul's hands rub your arms gently, generating warmth, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "Better?" he asks. His voice a soothing rumble in his chest.

"Much," you reply leaning back against him, feeling his heartbeat steady and reassuring against your back. The sound of the waves, the starlit sky, and Paul's presence combine into a perfect ever peaceful moment.

Paul kisses the top of your head gently. An affirmation of his feelings. "I love you. You know that?" he murmurs into your hair. His voice carrying a weight of sincerity. "Not just for being so strong today, but for every day. For being you."

Your heart feels full. His words lifting you even further into a state of bliss. "I love you too, Paul. So much," you whisper back, turning slightly to catch his eye. The look he gives you is filled with adoration and a promise of infinite tomorrows.

As the evening chill sets in and you snuggle deeper into Paul's embrace his heart swells with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. Under the vast, starlit sky, as he feels your steady breathing against him Paul's thoughts drift towards the future. A future he envisions vividly with you by his side.

Holding you close, his mind fills with images of similar nights, perhaps a little house of your own nearby where the sounds of the ocean can lull you both to sleep. He imagines lazy mornings with you, shared laughter, and quiet evenings just like this one. Each moment reinforcing the bond between you.

"You know," Paul whispers while breaking the comfortable silence. His voice tinged with a mix of wonder and conviction, "I feel like the luckiest guy on earth to have you. Every day with you feels like a promise of something great."

You look up at him, touched by his sincerity and the soft look in his eyes. "And I feel like the luckiest girl," you respond. Your voice soft. "I can't wait for all those days, Paul."

Content in the quiet night wrapped in each other's arms the world seems to stand still. Eventually, as the night deepens and the chill of the air becomes more pronounced, Paul's concern for your comfort reasserts itself. "Let's get you home before you turn into an ice cube," he jokes lightly. But his care is evident in the way he helps you to your feet and keeps you close as you walk to his car.

When you arrive at your doorstep Paul pulls you into one more long, lingering kiss. This one filled with promises and plans. "See you tomorrow, love. Dream of us," he says as he finally, regretfully, pulls away.

As you watch him drive off his earlier words echo in your heart filling you with warmth and a deep, unshakeable sense of belonging. You step inside already counting the minutes until you see him again, secure in the knowledge that what you have is once-in-a-lifetime. Tonight has not only brought you closer but has also cemented a future you are both eager to build together. One beautiful day at a time.

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[honeydjarin]

MOUSE IN THE KITCHEN

OPLA SANJI X SHORT!READER

Luffy isn’t the only one with a penchant for sneaking into the kitchen.

request: Hiii, if you want to I'd like to request a Sanji x short reader, where they try and help him out in the kitchen but can't reach anything. No pressure, just wondering

genre: fluff

word count: 2,000

a/n: normally I avoid any sort of specific physical features in my fics in order to make them as inclusive as possible, but as someone who must climb the shelves at the grocery store in order to reach anything, this request spoke to me. This one is a little silly and nothing but fluff. I hope you enjoy!

It’s late. The sun sank below the horizon long ago, leaving no trace of the adventures and games that took place during the daylight hours. Everyone else on the Going Merry is asleep. You really should be sleeping too, and you had been, not too long ago. 

You don’t know what it is that stirred you from your slumber. Perhaps some noise as the ship rocks on lazy waves, or a crew mate talking just a bit too loud in their sleep. It doesn’t matter, really. What does matter is the thoughts that worm their way into your mind the longer you lie awake. Thoughts of something light, something sweet, something to satiate a craving, your body convinced it’s time for breakfast despite your mind knowing dawn is hours away. It doesn’t take long for the hollow ache in your stomach to drive you from the comfort of your hammock and up towards the galley.

You know the kitchen on the ship well. You know which floorboards creak and which are safe to step on, where the chef hides traps for Luffy and how to circumvent them, where all of the ingredients to satiate your sweet tooth are hiding. 

Just thinking about the reason for your intimate knowledge of the ship’s kitchen is enough to send heat racing up your neck and settling beneath your cheeks. You press your fingers to the skin where your burning blood pools beneath the surface, taking a moment to relish in the sugar sweet feeling of a simple crush—a single name swirling through your brain is all it takes to leave you giggling quietly in the night.

Sanji, the newest member of the Straw Hat Crew. Sanji, the one who will never let another go hungry, not even a stranger. Sanji, the man with sun soaked hair and a honey dipped tongue. 

Sanji.

Sanji.

When the chef first joined the crew, you admired him. He was caring and steady, he knew what he believed in. With his handsome looks, quick wit, and open flirtations, it didn’t take long for that admiration to slip into something that felt sweetly like affection. You couldn’t help but want to spend more time with the cook, hoping to join him in the activities that bring him the most joy so that you might better understand him. It didn’t take long for you to become nearly as familiar with the galley as he is. 

You step into the kitchen, closing the door quietly behind you. You leave the lights off, not wanting to risk anyone else catching you in the galley (or getting the idea to grab a snack themselves). Instead, you stand in the dark, waiting for your eyes to adjust. Moonlight spills through the windows of the room, bright enough to see by, if you’re patient. 

It isn’t long before you’re able to move again, walking along a familiar path towards where Sanji stores all things sugary. 

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’re doing something you shouldn’t. Like if you have to sneak around then you’re in a place you don’t belong. This is Sanji’s space, cataloged and organized to best suit his needs and ensure the crew has enough supplies to last between islands. It feels strange to be in the kitchen without the sound of his laughter or the smell of something delicious cooking on the stove top. 

Sanji’s presence is the piece that makes this space feel so comfortable. Without him, it feels too large, hollow. The galley has no life without its chef. You never really thought about how the kitchen would feel without him in it, and can’t help but hope it isn’t a feeling you become used to.   

You know if you wake up the cook he will make something for you. He would rub the sleep from his eyes, only half succeeding, before asking what he could make to help satiate your craving with a smile. You would feel guilty the whole time. 

It’s better to sneak through the galley for something you can find on your own than to disturb Sanji’s sleep. 

The first thing you search for is chocolate. You crawl onto the countertop, balancing on your knees as your feet dangle over the edge, before opening the cabinet in front of you. You eye the chocolate chips, the miniature sweets sitting at a level seemingly so easy for the rest of the crew to grab. You doubt any of the others would have to climb to reach them. 

Unfortunately, the only chocolate on the shelf is unsweetened. The lack of added sugar may be perfect for baking, but they won’t be sweet enough for your taste on their own. 

You begin to drop down from the countertop, fully intending to continue your search for the perfect treat. Your feet drop to the ground quietly, and you land in an almost crouch. Perfect, the ship is silent, as it should be. You straighten up, intending to continue your search, but your knees, still tight from your recent slumber, crack as you stand. The sound rings out in the otherwise silent kitchen like a gunshot. 

Maybe your creaking joints wouldn’t be a problem in a normal kitchen, but Sanji, who has ears attuned to any slight sound coming from the Galley (thanks to Luffy’s many attempts to raid the space at odd hours for food), surely heard the pop in his sleep. You may as well have knocked down all of the pots and shattered all of the dishes. 

It isn’t long before the sound of hurried footsteps and frustrated grumbling reaches your ears. The door to the galley slams open, lights flickering on just a moment after, leaving you squinting as your eyes adjust to the room once more. 

“Luffy, I swear if you touched any of the food I’ll—oh.” Sanji’s voice carries through the kitchen, his accent thicker than normal, sleep still clinging to his words. Your name rolls off his tongue, and you think it sounds sweeter in his sleep-addled voice than any chocolate could taste. 

“Sorry, Sanji. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just a little hungry,” you confess. 

“You could have woken me up,” he says, just like you knew he would. “I’d have been happy to cook something for you.” 

“I didn’t want to bother you. You deserve to rest. Especially when you already wake up so early each morning to make breakfast.” 

Sanji hums, stepping farther into the kitchen. He looks more awake now than he did when he first arrived. His eyes don’t stray from your own as he speaks, no longer concerned about the state of the galley. 

“For you, love, it’s never a bother.” The smile he offers you sends your heart fluttering in your chest. “Anyway, I’m awake now. What would you like to eat?” 

He’s too good to you, too gentle. How could your heart ever stand a chance?

“I was just planning on eating a little chocolate, but it seems like there's only the unsweetened kind right now.” 

“Ah, of course. Only something sweet would be fitting for my sweetheart.” 

Your breath catches in your throat. His. He called you his. 

You bring your hand up to your mouth, trying to hide the growing grin that spreads on your lips as you nearly melt from his words. The warmth blossoming in your chest will surely turn you into a puddle on the floor, and then Sanji will know just how much his words affect you (if he doesn’t know already).

“Can we make something with chocolate in it?” you ask.

“We?” Sanji repeats, as if he didn’t expect you to help him in this task. His gaze softens, eyes gleaming with something like affection, before adding. “Of course we can. How do strawberry and chocolate hand pies sound? I picked up some fresh jam at the last port.”  

“It sounds perfect,” you say. It’s far more than you hoped to find during your late night search. When you got out of bed, you never would have guessed what kind of sweet you would find in the kitchen. You definitely didn’t expect to spend time baking with Sanji.

The two of you work comfortably together, only speaking when Sanji provides specific instructions or when you need clarification. The hazy fog of sleep still hovers over the both of you, even if you’re both awake enough now to function.

“Could you grab the chocolate chips for me?” Sanji asks. 

It’s a simple request, one you can easily complete. You know where he keeps the chocolate chips, the unsweetened treat seeming much more appealing now that they’re going to be baked into something.

You make your way back over to the counter, situating yourself below the cabinet where the chocolate is stored. Then, you place your hands on the cool surface, preparing to make the climb. You’re certain Sanji knew this was the path necessary for you to take to reach the ingredient too. There’s no way for you to reach the chocolate chips without being higher up. 

As you jump, using the force of your arms to help pull yourself up towards the counter just like you’ve done in other kitchens many times before, an unexpected force settles on your shoulders, pushing your feet back towards the ground.

“None of that, sweetheart. There will be no climbing on the countertops in my kitchen,” Sanji reprimands. He’s gentle in his scolding, the uptick of his lips and gleam in his eye letting you know he’s not really mad. “Sorry, I thought they were a bit lower.”

He doesn’t seem sorry. 

You open your mouth to protest against what could only be meant as a jab about your height, but only a squeak comes out. Sanji’s warmth seeps into your back as he presses close, the shape of his hand burning into your hip as it settles there. You can feel the way his body stretches as he reaches up, leaning further into you, before easily grabbing the bag that seemed so far out of your reach. Any words you might have had to tell off the man for doing something for you when you could easily do the task yourself (as long as you could climb on the counter) fizzle out. 

Sanji doesn’t look at you as he reaches for the chocolate, but the easy smile on his lips morphs into a lazy smirk. His thumb rubs slow, intentional circles where his hand remains steady on your hip, as if he was soothing a startled animal, coaxing you to stay close instead of running away, something you just might have done if he wasn’t purposefully grounding you while your thoughts soared. 

Oh no, you think. He knows.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Sanji was already aware of your feelings for him—you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve—but you had tried not to make your feelings for the chef too obvious. 

Sanji pulls the chocolate chips down, but he doesn’t step away. He still holds you close as he bends, his face lowering until it’s right beside yours. Then, without warning, his lips are pressed to the curve of your cheek. 

The kiss is quick, feather-light, but you’re certain he can feel the way your blood burns just beneath the surface of your skin, his quiet mumble of so warm the only confirmation you need, even if you weren’t meant to hear. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, I just couldn’t help myself.” Before you can react, Sanji steps away from you, taking you in for only a moment longer before turning back to the task at hand. With how smoothly he acted, there’s no way he hadn’t planned that little stunt he pulled.  

He definitely knows.  

Sanji is already placing the hand pies in the oven by the time you’re finally able to move again, and you can’t help but feel almost frustrated that the chef didn’t give you a chance to return his affection. 

You’re left waiting impatiently as he sets the timer, the miniature pies now the last thing on your mind. Sanji doesn’t seem to understand—you’re craving something sweet, and as far as you’re concerned, the sweetest thing on this ship is him. 

a/n: thank you for reading〜♡

[theostrophywife]

CHAPTER ONE

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🤍 pairing: theodore nott x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: sunroof by nicky youre.

🤍 author’s note: wake up babe summer theo just dropped.

Step 1 of Pansy Parkinson’s Perfect Plan of Plotting

Meet Cute — : A cute, charming, or amusing first encounter between romantic partners.

Every good story starts with a meet cute. Unfortunately for Theo and Y/N, their first encounter happened when they were still both in their mother’s wombs, but I won’t let that deter me. What better way to start off the summer holiday than getting rescued from a remote airport by your knight-in-shining armor with a fresh haircut and a recently acquired driver’s license? Side note: research the credibility of the Ufficio Motorizzazione Civile because whoever granted Theodore Nott a valid license is clearly bloody mental. Regardless, those two will be riding off into the Italian sunset in a brand new baby blue convertible and it’s all thanks to me. 

First Year, Hogwarts Express

On the other side of the frosted glass window, the English countryside passed by in a dizzying blur as the rain painted the landscape in a dreary haze. The train left a trail of smoke and steam behind as it journeyed along, bringing you closer and closer to Hogwarts. You shifted in your seat, nearly sliding off the red leather cushion as you trained your eyes on the horizon. 

By evening, you would arrive in the Scottish Highlands to begin your education at Hogwarts. When you got on the platform at King’s Cross, you thought that the worst of your anxiety would subside, but it only grew within you like a cresting wave. Being away from home for the first time in eleven years was intimidating enough, but now you had the sorting ceremony to fret over. 

Your parents were convinced that you would be sorted into Slytherin as they had when they both attended Hogwarts. Up until now, you were fairly confident in this as well, but the minute you boarded the train, doubt started to rear its ugly head. 

You had to be sorted into Slytherin. Not only because you’ve had the green and silver posters hanging in your room since birth, but also because you couldn’t imagine being in any other house. 

Just then, the cabin door slid open and startled you out of your thoughts. Theo plopped down next to you and stretched his legs on your lap. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “There’s two benches in this cabin, Teddy.”

Your best friend grinned, his messy brown hair falling over those moody watercolor eyes. “Yeah, but they’re not as comfy as you.” 

His cheeks were rosy from running around the train, but yours were even more flushed in comparison. Theo always had that effect on you. “I found the others, by the way. They’re in Malfoy’s cabin eating their way through a mountain of sweets. Did you want to join them?” 

You shook your head, looking out the window. “Maybe later.” 

Theo swung his legs over the bench and faced you. “You’re nervous.” 

It wasn’t a question. Theo knew you well enough to read your silence. 

“Is it that obvious?” 

“Not to anyone but me,” he said reassuringly. “You haven’t stopped twisting your ring since we left London.”

You looked down at your right hand and surely enough, you caught yourself twisting the emerald ring on your middle finger. It was a nervous habit that you weren't even aware of until Theo pointed it out a few years ago. 

That was the thing about your friendship. You spent so much time together that sometimes it felt like Theo was an extension of you. His mother used to say that the two of you were destined to be best friends, given the fact that she and your mum were closer to sisters than friends after forming a lifelong friendship during their time at school. 

It was one of the main reasons why the sorting ceremony worried you so much. For your entire life, you had gotten used to doing everything with Theo. The two of you had been inseparable since birth. A part of you had always wondered if you and Teddy would be friends if it weren’t for your mothers. 

“What if I don’t get sorted into Slytherin?” you asked in a small voice. 

Theo leaned back and tugged at the end of your scarf. “Of course you’ll get sorted into Slytherin.” He smiled, curling his finger around the cashmere material. “Did you know that when we were born, our mums put us in matching green and silver booties? I didn’t endure all that humiliation just for you to back out now.” 

“I’m serious, Teddy.” You shoved your hands into your pockets and stared at your shoes. “What if we get sorted into different houses? What if you meet your housemates and decide that you’d rather be friends with them than me?

Theo’s expression softened. “Hey,” he said, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. A stupid sorting hat won’t change that. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He paused, grinning. “Unless you end up in Gryffindor.” 

You smacked his arm, trying and failing to fight the smile tugging at your lips. “That’s not funny, Teddy!”

He chuckled. “I’m just winding you up, fragolina.” 

For an eleven year old, you suppose that calling a freckled redhead little strawberry was peak comedy. At least Theo seemed to think so. 

“Speaking of which, are you sure you’re not a long lost Weasley? Then you’d really need to worry about Godric snatching you up.”

“You are an absolute menace, Theodore Nott.” 

Theo grinned. “But would an absolute menace remember to buy you candy?” 

He reached into his pocket and held his palm out to you. In his hand sat a familiar purple and gold box that held the best treat in the wizarding world. 

“A chocolate frog,” you said with delight. “My favorite.”

“Got it from the trolley. I figured you could use a little cheering up. Though I might’ve accidentally sat on it.” 

You giggled, holding up the slightly dented box. “Thanks for the chocolate blob, Teddy.”

Theo grinned. “Any time, Y/N.

Day One, Vallara Floo Station

The phone rang and rang and rang.

You looked around helplessly at the floo station, praying to whatever gods that were listening that Pansy would pick up. Much to your dismay, you were sent straight to voicemail. Again.

“Pansy Parkinson, you better be laid out on a yacht with hot Italian witches dangling grapes into your mouth because that’s the only acceptable reason for not picking up your bloody phone. I swear to Salazar, I think I just told a man that I’d love to pet his chicken. Theo’s never going to let me hear the end of this—”

At that moment, you became convinced that the heat of the Italian countryside had melted your brain because you could’ve sworn that you recognized the familiar laughter echoing from behind you. 

“I’m offended, bella. All those years of friendship and yet you’ve never offered to pet my chicken.” 

You nearly dropped your phone when you whirled around and came face to face with your best friend. The Italian sunshine had been good to Theo. He looked tanner than when you last saw him, bringing out the moles and freckles that painted his olive skin like constellations. Those piercing blue eyes crinkled when he smiled and the sight of it nearly swept you off your feet. 

As if reading your mind, Theo enveloped you into a bone-crushing hug. The scent of expensive cologne and cigarette smoke enveloped you like a comforting hug. The hem of your gingham sundress billowed as Theo twirled you in the air. You laughed in delight, not caring one bit that the two of you were making a scene in the middle of the floo station. You hadn’t seen your best friend in two months, which was nearly an eternity for you and Theo. 

After graduation, Theo had headed down to the Italian countryside to spend the summer with his nonna. Usually, you would’ve joined him, but you were busy visiting family in New York. As fun as the States were, you missed home and you missed Theo — the two of which were synonymous in your mind.

“I missed you, fragolina,” Theo murmured into your hair. You grinned, squeezing him to convey your agreement. 

“Missed you too, Teddy,” you said softly. Theo set you down, giving you the chance to fully examine him. He was wearing a white linen button down and cotton shorts, his usual attire to combat the summer heat. Handsome, but in an effortless sort of way. 

You cocked your head, running your fingers over his chesnut waves, which were now tinged with gold, courtesy of his constant exposure to the sun. “You cut your hair.”

Theo nodded, running a hand through his cropped cut with a self-conscious expression. “I like it,” you said decidedly. “It looks good on you.” 

Satisfaction coursed through you as Theo blushed, his cheeks tinged with pink. It reminded you of the very first time he ever wore his natural waves around you. It was sometime during second year when you both got drenched from the rain at the Black Lake. You ran your hands through his hair, smiling as you told him that you quite preferred his hair that way. Since then, Theo stopped gelling his hair. 

“Big changes this summer,” Theo declared with a wink. Without hesitation, he gathered your suitcases and hauled them along like they weighed nothing. To him, they probably didn’t. You could’ve used his strength when you were struggling to lug your bags through customs. “Speaking of, I finally got my license.” 

Your jaw dropped. Ever since your dad took the two of you out on a joyride in his beloved vintage Mercedes — Mercy, for short — Theo had become obsessed with learning how to drive. You had no interest in it, but your best friend was absolutely adamant. When he put his mind to something, Theo was quite unstoppable. He even managed to convince your dad to give him lessons. Not on his precious Mercy of course, but on the family car. 

“I have no idea why you would want to ride around on a steel trap when there’s a perfectly good tube system at home,” you chided, swatting at your best friend’s arm as he rolled his eyes at your repeated lecture. “But I am proud of you, regardless.” 

“Good, cause I’m about to take you on the joy ride of your life.” 

You halted as Theo bounced past the entrance, walking right up to a very expensive looking vintage sports car. The baby blue top down sparkled in the sunlight and its chrome interior shined so spotlessly that you could see your reflection staring back at you. Theo gingerly arranged your suitcases in the backseat, careful not to disturb the delicate white leather seats. 

“You did not,” you gaped in disbelief. 

Theo only grinned. “I did, too.” 

He rounded the hood and reached over to pull the door open. You turned back, hesitation written all over your face as you surveyed the car. Despite its vintage style, you knew that it would probably be fast. Too fast for your liking. 

“No offense, but are you sure they didn’t make a mistake during your driving test? Maybe they meant to give the license to someone else.” 

You were proud of Theo. Truly, you were. But you had been witness to one too many driving lessons where he accidentally ran over the curb or nearly flipped the car from how fast he turned. Needless to say, it didn’t exactly inspire confidence. 

Your best friend huffed in indignation. “I’ll have you know, I’m an excellent driver. Even my examiner said so.” 

“She should probably get her vision checked, then,” you murmured under your breath.

“I heard that,” Theo stated with narrowed eyes. He ushered you along, herding you into the front seat. “Your lack of confidence in me is quite frankly appalling, fragolina.” 

“It’s not that I’m not confident in you,” you explained as you buckled in. “I’m just not confident that you won’t abuse the poor, defenseless curbs of your homeland.” 

“I promise you, I’ve gotten much better since my last lesson. Now sit back, relax, and feel the beautiful breeze of Italia against your skin.” 

You did no such thing. You spent the first few minutes white-knuckling the seat cushions. Theo, on the other hand, whistled a happy little tune as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. To his credit, his driving seemed to have improved since the last time you witnessed him get behind the wheel. Enough for you to gradually release the chokehold you had on your seat. 

“So, where’s our gracious host? Too busy sipping on limoncellos with pretty stregas to pick up her best friend from the station?” 

Theo’s mouth quirked. “Close. She’s trying to keep Malfoy and Riddle from tearing up the villa. They had a little disagreement about the room assignments. Draco wanted the room facing the east side of the house, for an optimal view of the sunrise.” You snorted at Theo’s overexaggerated snooty impression of your blonde friend. “Of course as soon as he expressed this, Mattheo suddenly wanted it for the same reasons. Never mind that the twat rarely wakes up before noon.” 

“Another lover’s quarrel,” you said rather sarcastically. “What’s new? Hopefully they kiss and make up before we get back.” 

“They’re going to have to,” Theo stated as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m not spending my summer holiday listening to those two twats fighting. I did enough of that at school.”

“How strange is it that we’ve graduated? I swear, it feels just like yesterday when we first got onto the Hogwarts Express. Now you’re driving me around the Italian coast and you haven’t hit a single curb. I wonder what other miraculous things the future has in store.”

Theo snorted. “It’s me and you against the world, bella.”

“The way it’s always been and the way it’ll always be.” 

The road curved around a hill, providing you with a breathtaking view of the sunny skies and clear blue water glittering below. Despite your teasing, Theo was doing a great job of maneuvering through the narrow path. He was driving slow and steady, giving you enough confidence to lean against the door and peer at the wonders of Vallara. 

Villas with colorful pastel roofs painted the hillside with pops of pinks, greens, and blues, broken up by patches of yellow from the lemon trees swaying in the breeze. The air smelled like sea salt and citrus, mixed in with other delicious smells wafting from the countless restaurants lining the market square. One of them in particular, La Dolce Vita, instantly caught your eye. 

“Should we say hi to nonna?” 

“She’s busy prepping for dinner back at the house. As soon as nonna heard that you were coming, she insisted on making everything herself.” 

“She didn’t have to do that,” you said, smiling fondly in the direction of the restaurant. You adored Theo’s grandmother. She was a strong, loud, and vibrant woman that you’ve admired since you were a little girl. Not to mention, her cooking was to die for. “Although I would kill for her cannolis.” 

“There’s a fresh batch waiting for you in the fridge.” 

Your mouth watered at the thought. “I’m surprised she’s letting us use the villa. I thought we were banned after Mattheo set off those fireworks in fourth year. I’ve never seen nonna that mad.” 

Theo chuckled at the reminder. Thanks to the fire fiasco, the villa had become off limits. Every visit after was to the townhouse in Rome, where she could keep a closer eye on all of you. As beautiful as the city was, you missed the countryside. Life was more peaceful out here — slow and sweet. You were determined to savor every moment before the reality of adult life hit you full force. 

“Pansy can be quite persuasive,” Theo replied. “Plus, she promised to wring Mattheo’s neck herself if he tries to stir up any trouble.” 

“It’s not a matter of if,” you corrected as Theo pulled up to the private road that led to his family’s villa. “It’s a matter of when.” 

Your best friend hummed in approval as the car slowed to a stop. Theo parked his convertible on the driveway and killed the engine as you admired his ancestral home. The quaint country house sat proudly at the top of the hillside, its regal structure looming over the village below. The terracotta roof sloped over the towers jutting out on each side of the massive structure, the seafoam green walls wrapping around the side porch, the rounded arched windows, and the romantic balcony overlooking the blooming garden at the back of the villa. It was just as charming as you remembered. 

“Home sweet home,” you murmured in awe. 

The wonder of this place never grew old. Theo’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, hauling your luggage over his shoulder and leading you inside. The sunbaked walls greeted you like an old friend, the sea breeze filling the entire place with the scent of salt and citrus from the large open windows. The furniture was mismatched, but in an endearing way that somehow felt like it all belonged together.

You walked between the arched columns leading into the living room, which were bracketed with wooden banisters that overlooked the entire first floor. The further you ventured, the louder the noises echoed. 

The sunny kitchen seemed to be the center of activity. You peered inside, smiling instantly when you saw the familiar figure hunched over the stove. Nonna whistled as she stirred the pot, the incredible smell of her cooking hitting you with a wave of nostalgia. Her happy tune was interrupted by the bouncing boy beside her and she tutted at Mattheo as he peered over her shoulder. 

“Dio mio, did I not tell you to wait in the living room?” Nonna asked with an exasperated sigh. “You’re making me dizzy with all your bouncing.” 

Mattheo smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, nonna. Everything just smells so good. Are you sure you don't need me to taste test?” 

“You’ll eat when the food is ready,” she huffed in response. Mattheo pouted in disappointment, his gaze darting to the fridge hungrily. “Don’t even think about touching my cannolis. I made those for Y/N especially.”

“If you’re nice, I might share.” 

Nonna grinned as you walked into the kitchen with Theo trailing behind you. She pulled you into a hug, kissing both of your cheeks as you laughed. “Thank God you’re here. This one has been driving me up the wall all afternoon.” Mattheo let out an indignant huff, but nonna ignored him. “Sit, piccolina. I’m sure you’ve had quite a journey. Theo here tells me you visited the States?” 

The way nonna crinkled her nose made you giggle. Like every other sensible European, she wasn’t the biggest fan of anything American. “Yes, I stayed with my cousin in New York for a few weeks. It was a fun time, but I am glad to be back home. I’m afraid their cooking isn’t up to par with yours, nonna.” 

“This is why you’re my favorite,” she chides, pinching your cheeks. “You’re just in luck then. Dinner will be served soon. If you can stomach it after my grandson’s driving.” 

Theo heaved in disapproval, which only made you grin. “It was actually quite a nice drive. The view was stunning and Teddy here managed to get me here in one piece.” 

“I’m glad. Theodore has been talking my ear off about it the whole summer. Nonna, I can’t wait until Y/N gets here. I miss her. Do you think she misses me? I hope she likes my car. Don’t you think she’d look quite pretty in her sundress, sitting in the passenger seat?” 

Mattheo snickered as Theo cleared his throat. “Alright, that’s enough. We’ll let you get back to your cooking so I can show Y/N to her room, nonna.”

Without another word, Theo wrestled you out of his grandmother’s clutches. Nonna winked at you behind his back, making you giggle. She wasn’t subtle at all about the fact that she wanted you and Theo to be together. Nonna had been hinting at it since you were thirteen. 

You trailed after Theo, noting the blush on his cheeks as he climbed the stairs. “Did I live up to it, then?” 

Theo scrunched his brows, pausing at the top step to allow you to catch up. His long legs always gave him a rather unfair advantage. “Live up to what?” 

“Did I look pretty sitting in your passenger seat in my sundress?” 

“Don’t know,” Theo quipped. “You were too busy gripping the seats for dear life to allow me to make a clear judgment.” You rolled your eyes fondly, which made him chuckle. “I’m kidding. Of course you looked pretty. You always look pretty, Y/N.” 

Now it was your turn to blush. You bit back a smile as Theo ventured down the hallway. 

“I’m still here you know,” you startled at Mattheo’s presence. You nearly forgot that he was following closely behind. “I swear to Merlin, the world could be falling to shit and you two would still be too busy making googly eyes at each other to notice.” 

You rolled your eyes at your curly headed friend. “I’m guessing Dray got the room you wanted based on your grumpy behavior.” Mattheo swatted at your hand when you tried to pinch his cheek. “Don’t worry, Matty. There’s always room in the wine cellar.”

He stuck his tongue out in response, followed by a smirk that you knew meant nothing but trouble. “Oh, I snagged the Rose room.” 

“That’s my favorite room and you know it!” 

“Don’t worry, Y/N. There’s always room in the wine cellar.” You narrowed your eyes before lunging at him. Mattheo laughed maniacally, dodging your grip as he weaved through the second floor. “Guess you and Notty boy are just going to have to double up.” 

The little traitor ran straight into your room — his room now apparently — and slammed the door shut. “What does that mean?” you asked Theo. 

He shrugged. “Probably nothing good, knowing the twat.” 

His suspicions proved to be true when you ran into Draco and Pansy. They both greeted you with hugs, though Draco seemed a little put off. 

“Good, you’re finally here!” Pansy exclaimed, brushing her bangs off of her forehead.

“With no help from you, by the way. You said you were meeting me at the floo station.” 

“I had to take care of a situation. Theo here jumped at the chance to show off his little baby blue convertible and offered to pick you up instead.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s been buzzing since yesterday. I swear, he doesn’t even try to hide his favoritism.” 

“Well, Y/N doesn’t strong arm her way into staying at my family’s villa. Not to mention conspiring with my nonna for god knows what else,” Theo added bitterly. 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “So dramatic, Theodore.” She pushed the door open to the main suite, revealing the enormous room. 

The interior was bright and airy. A fresh coat of pastel pink covered the walls, but the ceiling remained a creamy shade of white with the exposed wooden beams giving the room a cozy and rustic feel. A four-poster bed faced the balcony doors, which provided a view of the gardens below. The salty summer breeze rustled the linen curtains, carrying the pleasing scent of honeysuckle and lavender. 

Theo set down your luggage by the tufted velvet sofa. You ventured out through the balcony doors, leaning over the parapet to peer at the pops of pinks, blues, and purples dotting the property. By the poolside, Enzo and Blaise reclined on cushioned chaise lounges, sipping on spritzers and soaking in the sunset. You waved at your friends down below and they returned the gesture, raising their glasses with blissful smiles. 

When you turned back around, you found Pansy fiddling with a flower arrangement. She placed it on the table closest to the balcony, smiling to herself when she finally got the bouquet to look the way she wanted. The stunning view, the luxurious vintage furniture, and the intricate fireplace all felt very romantic. After all, nonna did deem this the honeymoon suite, which made you all the more suspicious of why Pansy was suddenly bunking you up with Theo. 

Before you could question the witch, she turned on her heel and crossed the suite. “I’ll give you two a moment to catch up, but don’t take too long. Dinner will be served in an hour.” Pansy lingered by the door, a dangerous glint sparkling in her eyes as she winked at the two of you. “Enjoy the honeymoon suite.” 

If that wasn’t confirmation that Pansy Parkinson was up to something, then you didn’t know what was. You glared at the dark haired witch, but she seemed oblivious as she skipped off. Probably on her way to meddle in someone else’s business. 

“Well, this was unexpected.” 

“Tell me about it. Now I have to keep my things tidy or else I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“A messy room reflects a messy—”

“Mind,” Theo finished for you as his lips curved into a smile. “I’m well aware, bella. You’ve been saying it since we were ten.” 

“Yet it hasn’t quite sunk in.” 

“You’re just grumpy from international travel. I know what’ll make you feel better though,” Theo announced with a sunny smile as he trotted over to the bathroom. You stared longingly at the amenities, which housed a rain shower head, a tiled bench, and a heart shaped tub. “Hop on in.” 

“Theodore Nott, is this your way of telling me I stink?” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” your best friend said with a cheeky little smile. He plugged his nose and waved his hand in front of his face. You smacked him on the arm, which only made him grin even wider. “Will it help if I hopped in with you?” 

A fierce blush crept up to the tips of your ears. “Pervert.” 

“What? We used to take baths together all the time!” 

“Yeah, when we were three.” 

Theo shrugged. “Semantics. I promise not to steal your rubber ducky this time.” 

You groaned in frustration, smacking him once more. “Not a chance in hell.” 

“Are you sure? I’m a very efficient shower buddy. Just ask Mattheo.” 

All the filthy thoughts filtering through your mind only served to make you flush even more. At this rate, your face probably matched your hair. “Get out, Theodore.” 

Theo chuckled as you pushed him out the door. It was a feat in itself given the fact that he towered a good foot over you, but you managed to shove him through the threshold. Your best friend chuckled before placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Have a good shower, fragolina,” A devious grin tugged at his lips as he paused. “Try not to think of me while you’re in there.” 

You rolled your eyes, but the words had already planted a very dangerous seed in your mind. As you stepped into the shower, you were ashamed to say that you failed Theo’s challenge. 

This bloody honeymoon suite would be the death of you. 

A wave of nostalgia hit you full force as you made your way down the stairs. In the dining room, your friends sat around the large mahogany table chatting and drinking. You exchanged a cheek kiss with Blaise and ruffled Enzo’s hair before making your way over to your usual spot. Theo grinned up at you and patted the seat next to him. 

“How was your shower?” 

“Fine,” you answered robotically. “Great. Uneventful.” 

Theo didn’t miss the way your eye twitched. The twat actually smirked. “I don’t know about that, bella. You sound a little tense. Should’ve taken me up on the offer. I would’ve been more than happy to throw in a complimentary massage. If you asked real nicely.” 

You flushed, crossing your arms. “I’d sooner invite Mattheo to shower with me than ask you for a massage.” 

Mattheo’s curly head perked up from across the table. “Oh?” Much to Theo’s annoyance, his best friend wiggled his brows and winked at you. “Finally tired of Notty boi, huh? You want a dose of Riddle, babe?” 

Before you could deign to respond, Nonna swatted the back of Mattheo’s head. He protested, but she showed no signs of remorse as she took a seat at the head of the table. 

“Do not ruin my appetite, Mattheo.” Nonna scolded. “Now be a dear and pass the lasagna. I didn’t slave away in the kitchen for hours just to listen to your lecherous comments.” 

At Mattheo’s defeated expression, you and Theo tried and failed in keeping in your laughter. Riddle glared at the two of you, but resigned himself to following Nonna’s orders. As your friends piled pasta onto their plates, a bittersweet feeling rushed through you. 

The people seated at this table had been an integral part of your life for as long as you could remember. Pansy, Blaise, Enzo, Draco, Mattheo, and Theo had always been just a couple of steps away, but now that you had all graduated, the seven of you would be scattered in different places. It made your heart ache just thinking about it. 

“We still have the whole summer,” Theo whispered softly. He nudged his knee against yours under the table. The familiarity of the gesture brought you comfort. It never ceased to amaze you just how well Theo knew you. 

“And the rest of your lives if I have anything to say about it,” said nonna as she filled your glass with red wine. “Smettila di fare il codardo, nipote.”

Theo groaned. You understood enough Italian to know that nonna was pushing her agenda again. “Not this again, nonna.” 

“I will not stop until you get it through your thick skull, Theodore.” 

As nonna launched into a full on lecture in her native language, you grinned in amusement at your best friend. Theo sulked like a child, but his expression brightened as you knocked your knee against his. 

After dinner, you spent the rest of the night camped out on the terrace. The view was stunning as the sun set over the horizon, tinging the villa in technicolor. Your friends gathered around the fire pit, sipping sangria and playing games. As usual, the boys found themselves a few galleons lighter after you swindled them during wizard poker. One would think that they’d learn their lesson by now, but your friends were still determined on risking their fortune against you. 

All except Theo. 

Knowing that his own mother passed down her skills of deception to you, Theo knew better than to challenge you. Instead, he sat back and watched the boys lose with a smile on his face. When you claimed your winnings, he beckoned you under the blanket and handed you another glass of wine. Though you could’ve easily blamed the sudden warmth on the charmed knit throw or the fine vintage, you had a feeling that the heat had more to do with your proximity to Theo. 

The scent of citrus and tobacco overwhelmed your senses as your best friend draped an arm over your shoulder. “Gonna share your prize with me, bella?” 

“Seeing as you did nothing to help me, I’m inclined to say no.” 

“Of course I helped. I pulled a vintage from the cellar so these idiots would keep playing even though they don’t stand a chance against you.” 

You chuckled. “Wine or not, they would’ve lost to me either way.” 

“Fine,” Theo said with a dramatic sigh. He pulled you to his side and kissed your temple “Keep your prize. I’ve already won anyways.” 

“You’re awfully sentimental tonight, aren’t you, Teddy?” 

“What can I say?” Theo mused, his blue eyes piercing into you. “This place brings it out of me. This country, this villa, it’s full of possibilities. Anything can happen here.” 

The heat of his gaze seared your skin, but you didn’t look away. A charge of electricity crackled in the air as if in confirmation of your best friend’s statement. 

Anything can happen here.

[sirfrogsworth]

Meeting my longtime artist and good friend, Chris, IN REAL LIFE!

So, I hadn't been to a restaurant in over a decade. I can't even remember which restaurant since it was so long ago. But in the past few weeks I've now been to TWO restaurants.

I am becoming a social butterfly. 

And it is exhausting.

But also good.

First I reconnected with my high school best friend, John.

And that went great.

But then the opportunity to see my friend Chris (a.k.a @whosthewhatnow ) came up only a few days later. And this close proximity of social events scared me a bit, but I have been feeling much better since they figured out my heart thing, so I decided to try and do both things even though they were only a few days apart. 

The key to this was strategic resting. As soon as I got home from seeing John, I got in bed and I didn't get out of it until it was time to see Chris. And that was just enough recovery time to pull this off. Typically a short outing requires 2-3 days of rest after. 

I had never met Chris in real life. He has done nearly all of the artwork for my website and comics over the past decade. And he was a main character in my CRAPPRnauts series.

We know each other so well and it is crazy that we've never seen each other with our very own eyeballs.

He is such an amazing artist. He works fast and he adds so many cool extra details that you can stare at his comic panels multiple times and catch a new joke or easter egg each time. He is a dream to work with and my Corg Life series was only successful because he did such a wonderful job bringing Otis to life in comic form. 

So we decided to meet up at a restaurant with his friend Michael and then I was going to take a nice portrait of him after dinner. Chris had never had a professional photo taken of himself and I decided to fix that.

I told him I had a mobile photography setup. Which, in reality, is a trunk full of lights and stands and other various camera gear that I definitely won't need, but bring anyway. It's "mobile" in that it all fits in my car if you are good at Tetris (which I am).

The restaurant was downtown and I had visions of St. Louis's famous Gateway Arch in the background of Chris's portrait. I thought that would be such a cool shot. I could see it in my head and I even dreamed about it.

So I got in my car and headed downtown and my GPS told me to exit at 249B. But I kept looking and I couldn't see the sign for 249B.

This is how much road I had left when I finally was able to see the exit for 249B.

So I ended up taking 249A and going straight to East St. Louis.

Which, if you believe the headlines, is not a place you ever want to be.

Google Maps and I have been having issues lately. They also tried to get me to take the spooky way home that night, but thankfully I actually knew the non-spooky way back from when I used to go to Cardinal games with my parents as a kid.

My short term memory was trashed by shock therapy. And so was a lot of my long term memory. But it finally came through in a pinch and remembered something useful.

I only had to loop around and cross a bridge so I didn't really do anything but touch the edge of East St. Louis. I was mostly concerned about being late for dinner more than its scary reputation. Usually those news stories about a place being "dangerous" are actually just racist and hurtful to people stuck in poverty. I mean, technically my house is in a "dangerous" neighborhood, and we do have trouble with petty crime in some spots, but aside from a few dinged-up mailboxes, I've never felt unsafe in my home.

On the way back to regular St. Louis I could see the Arch on the horizon at sunset and it was kind of magical. And I wasn't able to get a good shot of it, but it sure looked pretty from my point of view. 

My photos kind of remind me of the beginning of movies like Training Day where they are trying to show you gritty, dutch angle shots of the city out of the car window to give you a sense of the location.

As I approached the restaurant I invented a new genre I call "stoplight photography." The sky was orange and the streets of St. Louis were just asking to be photographed. But I wasn't willing to die to get neat photos, so I just took them at every red light.

The big trick was trying to edit the dark area at the top of my windshield out of the photos to make it look like I didn't take these pictures from my car.

After a 15 minute detour through Illinois I arrived at my destination—a Mexican place called Rosalita's. It had a beautiful sign, so I took that literal sign as a metaphorical sign it was a nice place to get a quesadilla. 

Dinner was great. Both signs were right and their quesadilla was very tasty. Chris and I both got one, so we are quesadilla twins. The waitress was one of those "I can remember your order without writing anything down" types. And I am one of those, "I get anxiety when things aren't written down" types. And, to her credit, she did not forget our orders. But she did forget to give us silverware and napkins. So I still feel like my anxiety was valid. 

We told sad stories of the pups we lost. But we also had a lot of fun and laughed and I got to meet Michael who turned out to be an absolute mensch. I sometimes have trouble meeting new people with my social anxiety, but he was very affable and made me feel comfortable with his presence almost right away. He was a fan of Otis and mentioned he still has a Super Otis shirt. I always get choked up hearing that Otis is still loved. Hopefully we get to meet again. 

Dinner ended and it was picture time.

I asked Chris if he wanted the high effort photo or the low effort photo. Either we figure out how to get to the Arch or we find a spot near the restaurant and just take his portrait there. Chris and Michael had a driver because they were coming from a big conference and getting to the Arch would have been complicated. So we decided to go with the low effort option. 

I found a cool shop nearby that had an LED wall that changed to all sorts of different colors. And I thought that would make a neat background and give a colorful edge light on Chris's face. I pulled my car near that spot and started unloading my trunk full of photo gear.

I think Chris and Michael were a little overwhelmed when I started pulling camera gear out of my trunk like a clown pulling an endless handkerchief out of his mouth. But as far as photo setups go, it was actually pretty minimal. 

Light, giant battery, light stand, umbrella, tripod, camera, rolling walker with seat.

My dad's old rollator came in clutch because I wanted to shoot from a low angle and it is hard for me to bend down. In fact, I think I'm going to look into getting an all terrain version so I can do more outdoor photoshoots.

I started shooting in the middle of a downtown sidewalk. And I was super anxious. I could not focus (my brain, not my camera). I was very distracted with all of the people walking by and staring. I was not sure if any of the photos were turning out. I wasn't even sure if they were in focus (my camera, not my brain) because I had not yet had my lens calibrated. But down the street there was a guy with an old school boombox playing random music. His music helped to drown out the ambient noise and gave me some comfort.

I had no clue if the photos were any good, but when I got home and checked them on my computer, I realized I have 12 years of experience and muscle memory built up. I probably should have just trusted myself because the photos all turned out great.

I think Chris can now officially say he has had a professional portrait taken of himself.

This photo has been officially loved by Chris's girlfriend and mother.

There is no greater seal of approval and I am honored.

I was able to comp in any of the colors the wall displayed from other shots in case Chris is feeling a little more green in the future.

A literal rainbow of options.

I also liked this one, though it is a little more "environmental portrait" than regular portrait.

And I got some nice photos of our little group to help us remember the night. 

And I got a bunch of photos of Chris making silly faces like Calvin at his school photoshoot. 

I love this woman's reaction to our little impromptu sidewalk photo shenanigans.

After we said our goodbyes and I gave my friend a hug, I was a little bummed I didn't get to photograph him at the Arch like I had dreamed.

But then I realized I had my own car and it was capable of taking me places. (I actually haven't gotten used to that after not driving for nearly 15 years.)

So I decided to drive a few blocks over to Kiener Plaza—a park with a view of the Arch. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

[aphroditelovesu]

Winter Solstice | Yan!HOTD

❝ 🐉 — lady l: Merry Christmas, my dear readers! I wish you a great day and a prosperous New Year! I hope you enjoy this Christmas special with our yandere family from HOTD! Good reading, forgive me for any mistakes and once again, have a great holiday to you ❤️🎄.

❝warnings: yandere themes, mention of death and obsessive and possessive behavior.

❝🐉word count: 1,941.

A long, long time ago, when the Earth was young and the days were short, people looked up to the sky with wonder and awe. They watched the Sun rise and fall over the horizon, its heat bringing life to the earth and its dark nights bringing a deep sleep to the world.

In the ancient realm of the seasons, each cycle marked the eternal dance between light and dark. As winter approached, a whisper spread through nature. Leaves fell from the trees, animals sought shelter and the nights extended, enveloping the world in a blanket of darkness and cold.

It was the time of the Winter Solstice, a magical moment when the Earth seemed suspended between extremes. People gathered around campfires, telling stories of times gone by, sharing warmth and hope amid the impending darkness.

On the eve of the longest night of the year, eyes turned to the sky, waiting for the miracle. Slowly, the Sun began its journey towards the horizon, fighting the darkness with its golden light. The stars twinkled above, bearing witness to the celestial spectacle.

And then, in the most sublime moment, the Sun began to rise, rising majestically into the sky. The colors of dawn painted the landscape, and people celebrated the rebirth of the Sun, knowing that light and warmth would return to the world. It was a symbol of renewal, hope and the continuous cycle of life.

On the Winter Solstice, people came together to celebrate the courage of the light that faces the darkness, remembering that even in the darkest moments, there is always the promise of rebirth and the light that returns to warm the hearts and illuminate the souls ways.

It had always been your favorite time of year, you loved how the snow fell from the sky and painted everything white, the food, the exchange of gifts and most importantly, it was when your whole family was together. You appreciated more than anything the few moments of peace that your family spent during that date, all happy and together. Like a big, loving family.

Having them all together was what you loved most as you grew up. All the disputes, the fights seemed to disappear during this time of year. Your heart and mind were at peace.

The green of the forest and the fiery red of love and passion. Its fabric was as soft as a spring breeze, a harmonious blend of silk and cotton that moved like leaves dancing in the wind. The predominant green was reminiscent of treetops, its hue varying from a lush emerald green to softer nuances, like newborn buds. The waist was accentuated by a deep red belt, as if it were the blush of the petals of a passionate rose. The intense tone stood out, creating a magnificent contrast with the lush greenery, and a decorative bow added a touch of elegance.

Something beautiful and elegant, with both of your family colors. Of the Targaryens and the Hightowers. There was some small, discreet blue embroidery that symbolized the Velaryon, subtle but standing out in its own way.

You turned to your maid who was looking at you with affection, you smiled at her, ''What do you think, Diane?''

She smiled widely, ''You looked incredible, my princess/prince. A suitable choice for a dinner with your family.'' There was a hint of worry in her tone, but you just held her hands and squeezed them gently.

''Don't worry, Diane. Everything will be fine.''

She nodded, ''Yes... Do you want me to accompany you to where the banquet will be held?''

You politely denied, ''No, but thank you.''

A hint of disappointment flashed in her brown eyes, but she just smiled and after a simple bow, she left the room. You took a deep breath and looked at the ring that adorned your finger, a gift from your grandfather, Viserys. He was sick and you swore to yourself that you would do everything to make this dinner enjoyable for him. He deserved it.

Just as you expected, everything was impeccable and your family was already waiting for you. A majestic dining room, adorned with golden chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting soft light on long solid wood tables.

The walls were covered with richly embroidered tapestries, depicting scenes from Targaryen history and grand festivities. The polished stone floor gleamed in the light of the torches that adorned the walls, reflecting the grandeur of the space.

In the center of the room, a long table stretched out, covered in an immaculate linen tablecloth and decorated with wildflower arrangements and heraldry of noble families. Silver candelabras exuded a soft glow, while golden goblets glittered in the dancing light of the flames.

Music filled the atmosphere as skilled musicians played lutes, flutes and harps, entertaining guests with happy melodies and lively dances.

''(Y/N)!'' Your mother's excited voice called out to you and you smiled at Rhaenyra, who quickly hugged you, placing her head against the crook of your neck, ''You look great, sweetheart.''

''Thanks, mom. You look great too.'' And indeed, she did. Rhaenyra wore a dark red dress decorated with gold that fit her perfectly. She pulled back a little and smiled at you.

''(Y/N)! We're here.'' On one side of the table, your younger brothers sat. You looked at Jacaerys, Lucerys, and little Joffrey, who were smiling at you. You kissed Rhaenyra's cheek and went to sit next to your brothers. Or you tried, for that matter.

For you were quickly pulled to the side as Aegon grabbed you and pulled you closer to him, Aemond, and Helaena. You smiled at your aunt and uncles and greeted them.

''Sit with us.'' Aegon asked and pointed to an empty chair next to Helaena who was smiling sweetly at you. You looked nervously at your brothers, who were staring at Aegon with disdain.

Aemond frowned and placed a hand over your shoulder, ''Come, stay with us.'' His tone said there was no room for argument.

Luckily for you, the doors opened and revealed Viserys along with Alicent, both smiling when they saw you. You apologized to your aunt and uncles and quickly walked over to your grandparents, helping Viserys sit down.

''Ah, (Y/N)... You look great!'' Viserys praised you, as soon as he sat down. You smiled at him and kissed his cheek in thanks.

Alicent pulled you into a tight hug, ''My husband is right, you look great. This shade of green suits you very well.'' She murmured and walked away hesitantly, adjusting your clothes. You kissed your face.

''Thanks. You look amazing too.'' She smiled in response and held your hands, squeezing them gently.

After a few minutes of talking to your grandparents, you walked over to your father and uncle, who were sitting next to each other. Laenor smiled widely and pulled you into a tight hug, not wanting to let go. He only let go when Daemon cleared his throat, irritated.

Laenor rolled his eyes and let go of you, staring at Daemon with an iron gaze. Daemon returned the same look and you acted quickly before they fought.

''Happy Solstice to you both.'' You said, twiddling your fingers nervously. Daemon smiled and patted you on the shoulder twice, pulling you into a hug. You hugged him back.

''Happy Solstice, my child.'' Laenor said after you and Daemon parted ways.

''Happy Solstice, (Y/N).'' Daemon said, looking at you softly. You thanked them and apologized as you left them, wanting to greet your other family members. You spotted Baela and Rhaena sitting near your brothers and quickly walked over to them.

''Finally. I thought you would never come and talk to us.'' Baela complained and got up from the chair and hugged you tightly, ''I missed you, cousin.''

You returned the hug tightly, smiling at her words, ''I missed you too, cousin.''

Rhaena cleared her throat and stood up, hugging you as you and Baela separated.

You smiled at the squeeze and said, ''I missed you too, Rhaena.''

Joffrey got out of his chair and jumped into your arms, laughing loudly when you caught him in a tight hug.

''You're getting too big for me to keep doing this.'' You laughed and rolled him over, placing him on the floor. Russing his dark hair, you smiled when he laughed. You hugged Luke, who seemed especially clingy today. Jace also hugged you tightly and wished you a Happy Solstice.

After talking for a while with your brothers and cousins, you went to greet your paternal grandparents. Rhaenys and Corlys were sitting next to Otto, oddly enough, and the three of them looked at you with affection.

''Grandmother.'' You kissed Rhaenys's cheek who kissed yours back.

''Grandpa.'' You hugged Corlys and he hugged you back and complimented the blue details on your outfit.

''Otto.'' You greeted your great-grandfather, who smiled warmly at you. He seemed relaxed and calm, more so than he normally was.

''Shall we have dinner in honor of this happy day?'' Viserys's loud voice sounded in the room and everyone focused on the King. There was a bit of tension about where you should sit, but you chose next to Viserys and Rhaenyra, who shook your hand under the table.

Servants brought silver trays loaded with delicious delicacies. Large roasts of meat browned on skewers, exuding a tantalizing aroma of exotic spices. Tables were adorned with fresh fruit, from crimson apples to juicy grapes, and freshly baked bread that looked like it had come straight from the oven.

Plenty of wine circulated among everyone and soon everyone was laughing and talking. Your heart felt lighter when you saw your entire family happy, getting along for the first time in a long time.

After the banquet, you all went to one of the rooms of the castle, where the gifts were. The exchange went well, you received gifts from everyone individually and you presented them with what you carefully chose. Ser Criston was present and you gave him a gift too, under the watchful eye of your family, a pure Valyrian steel sword. He smiled in thanks and said he would give you a gift later.

When it seemed like the exchange of gifts was over, Otto said, ''We have a special gift for you, (Y/N). From all of us.'' He gestured to your entire family, who looked on expectantly. You took the gift from his hand, a wooden box with gold details, which was well packaged.

As soon as you opened it, all the color in your face disappeared. It was a head, a human head. You felt like you were going to throw up when you recognized the head. Diane, your servant.

''W-What is this?!'' You groaned, the words stuck in your throat as you held the box, your legs shaking as terror invaded your body. Everyone seemed calm, even Viserys.

''This is our gift to you, my child.'' Rhaenyra said and approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder, ''To remind you not to approach anyone.''

''They can't be trusted,'' Alicent began to say, ''Diane couldn't be trusted. Criston was the one who cut off her head and Rhaenyra, Helaena and I cradled her. The choice of the box was Daemon's.''

They looked at you expectantly, as if they hoped you really liked the gift. Your hands were shaking so much that the box fell to the floor, Diane's severed head falling to the floor.

A perfect ending to a loving Winter Solstice with your family, from their perspective.

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

More then enough 🦽

Mapi León x reader x Ingrid Engen

warning : disability 🕶🦻

Summary :

Being a wheelchair user, you're afraid your girlfriends will love you less.

The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the pitch. The girls had just finished their training session, and Mapi and Ingrid stood by the sidelines, both laughing and chatting as they packed up their gear. The atmosphere around them was warm and light, hearted, despite the hard work they’d put in. But their eyes constantly flickered over to the stands, where you sat, watching with your usual gentle smile.

You had been in their life for a while now, ever since you met Mapi at a charity event she attended a few months ago. You were disabled, using a wheelchair after a car accident left you unable to walk, but that never stopped you from living fully, embracing every moment with joy and a sense of adventure. Mapi had been drawn to that strength in you, the way you approached life with so much heart despite everything you'd gone through.

The three of you had clicked almost immediately. Mapi's fierce energy, Ingrid's calm, soothing nature, and your own witty humor and zest for life had created the perfect dynamic. Mapi was fiery and protective, always making sure you felt included and cared for, while Ingrid’s gentleness brought a comforting peace, like a calming wave that soothed all your worries.

Today, as you waited for them to finish their session, you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious. Though you tried not to let your disability affect your confidence, there were days when you wondered if you were enough for them. Two incredible athletes, constantly moving and living in ways you could no longer do.

As you looked down at your hands, lost in thought, Mapi’s voice pulled you from your reverie.

- Holà, cariño, what are you thinking about?

You glanced up, finding both Mapi and Ingrid now standing in front of you, their eyes full of concern. Mapi knelt down to be at your eye level, while Ingrid took her place beside you, gently resting a hand on your shoulder. You hesitated before answering, biting your lip.

- Just… wondering if you guys ever feel like you’re missing out, being with me. You’re always on the go, always so active, and I—well, I can’t do the things you do.

Mapi's brows furrowed, and her hands found yours, gripping them tightly.

- Don’t say that. You’re never a burden, cariño. We don’t want you to be anyone else. We love you exactly as you are.

Ingrid nodded, her voice soft but firm.

- It’s true. We’ve never thought about what we’re missing because you’re everything we need. You bring so much light into our lives.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, laughing softly.

- You two are too much. I don’t deserve you.

Mapi shook her head, a playful smirk on her lips.

- Nonsense. You deserve everything. And you’ve got us, so you must be doing something right.

Ingrid smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple.

- We’re a team, remember? We’re in this together.

You let out a breath, the weight on your chest lifting slightly. With them by your side, things always seemed brighter, and you never felt alone. You didn’t need to be anyone else but yourself, they loved you for who you were.

As the three of you sat there, the cool breeze brushing against your skin, Mapi suddenly jumped to her feet with a mischievous grin.

- Alright, enough of this sappy stuff. How about a game?

You looked at her, confused.

- A game? What kind of game?

She pointed to a nearby soccer ball.

- We’re gonna play a little football.

Your eyes widened.

- I can’t play football, Mapi.

- Why not?

She challenged, already grabbing the ball.

- We’ll modify the rules. You will be a goalie so you can stay in your chair, and Ingrid and I will try to score. First one to five wins.

You couldn’t help but laugh at her stubbornness. You rolled your eyes playfully.

- You are impossible.

Mapi kicked the ball gently toward you.

- Come on, love, show us what you’ve got.

And so, the three of you played. It wasn’t about skill or competition. It was about fun, about laughter, about being together. You quickly realized that it didn’t matter that you were in a wheelchair. Mapi and Ingrid didn’t care about what you couldn’t do. They only cared about spending time with you, making memories, and showing you just how much they adored you.

As the sun set, and the last goal was scored (you might have let Ingrid win, just for the look of joy on her face), the three of you collapsed onto the grass, breathless from laughter and exertion. Mapi lay beside you, her arm slung across your lap, while Ingrid rested her head on your shoulder.

- See?

Mapi said between breaths.

- Told you you could play.

You smiled, looking down at her. As the night settled around you, you realized that in their love, there was no place for doubt. With them, you were whole. You were perfect. And most importantly, you were loved just as you were.

[sheena1234]

'Alone getting high on a

Saturday night I’m on the edge of a knife

Nobody cares if I’m dead or alive

Oh, what a wonderful life'

[chosos-mascara]

all my love, suguru

chapter 4

summary: after an unexpected night spent with your close friend, you find yourself pregnant, and unable to tell him so. will you be able to come to terms with this news, or will it destroy the delicate relationship you’d had left?

chapter warnings: mentions of declining mental health (suguru), general angst, secret pregnancy/child

masterlist

⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆⋆₊⋆

A brown head of hair follows you from your car to the apartment. It's an uncomfortable journey knowing you're back in Tokyo again, so close to a life that feels so distant from you now.

There are many boxes to unpack, and when accompanied by a young child, the task feels insurmountable. To credit her, she does make an attempt to help, picking out a few toys from one of the containers with a smile, though just as quickly becomes distracted by the prospect of actually playing with them. This does make things easier for a short while; you're able to unpack some dinnerware into empty shelves, folding down just one cardboard box before she's back at your side. "Mama!" She toddles to you with tears brimmed at her lash line, a doll in one hand, it's arm in the other. "Help, please."

You offer a soft smile, crouching and accepting the broken toy. It's easy to slot the arm back into place with some jostling (a manuvre you've learned from experience with this particular toy), and she's smiling once more, a shriek of excitement when the doll is returned to her in one piece.

Her expression lightens your mood, how beautifully she wears her emotions. There's so much innocence to children you hadn't expected before meeting her, so much joy. Her brown eyes are locked onto her barbie as she babbles, some nonsense, though some actual words do crop up - mummy, love, play.

You'd spent your entire pregnancy wondering what she would look like, whether she would take after you or her father, and to little surprise when she was handed to you, she was the image of Suguru. Even more so with age. Brown hair and eyes, and she has his nose too, with a calm temperament and warmth that you also accredit to him.

Being a single mother is hard, and seeing so much of him within her is bittersweet. He's the man you fell in love with, but he's also the man you had to leave. There's so much you've wanted to share with him too; her first steps, words, her first birthday. Despite this, you know even if alone you've raised her well, and she is so loved. You've brought her this far without sorcery, but now a blue flame surrounds her. She's an early bloomer in the cursed sense, and just as you'd feared, inherits her father's technique meaning she'll likely be a special grade... something you'd wished so deeply to avoid. 

There was change on the horizon, beginning only a few days ago when you'd been told to pack these very boxes, and push your daughter into a future you hadn't willed. You feel sick when recounting the memory.

"No." The sight of his face brings a burning to your throat, a sinking feeling as if a bowling ball had been forced into your chest, dropping to weigh within your stomach. Two years in hiding, to end involuntarily by no one other than Gojo Satoru. White hair draped over his forehead, blue eyes meeting your own. They look tired, aged somehow, though you can't seem to care when that weathering is accompanied by remorse, lips downturned.

"Invite me inside." His voice is quiet, low. It's late, and you're sure he's exhausted, yet he's at your door instead of his own. There's a small spark of hope that perhaps he simply needs a place to stay, though this is snuffed out when you look back to his face. He knows. "Satoru, why are you here?" Your voice trembles on the verge of tears, but he doesn't comfort you, instead remaining silent as you try to steady your breaths, eventually regulating them enough to step to one side. There's some hesitance as he walks past you.

You lead him to the livingroom, and as he trails behind his gaze wonders the painted walls of your entryway, pictures decorating an otherwise bland white. Most of which appear to star a small child from the ages of infancy to two; the same dark hair and brown eyes that he recognised within his close friend. There's dimples in each cheek when she smiles with her mother's lips.

"You had a girl." He means it to echo a question despite already knowing, though it sounds to be a statement. Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his, and you nod.

"Keiko." Usually her name on your lips brings you joy, but telling Satoru only makes your heart ache.

"Satoru, please tell me why you're here."  You swallow thickly, afraid of the news you're about to be privvy to. He offers little reprieve with his reluctance, and you expect the worse. "You have to come back, to Tokyo."

There's a numbness that begins at your throat, and slowly, like mould spore growing through a piece of fruit, you find yourself rotting before him. You're plagued with dread as you picture your daughter, only two years of age, opened up to a world you wished to shield her from. "Why would I need to do that?" You act as if you're unaware, yet you understand clearly. She's gifted, even if you hadn't wanted to give her this strength.

"She has Cursed Spirit Manipulation." When those words leave his lips, you realise you truly have lost this case. This is it, this is what she will be forced to use. Your jaw tightens as you form a response, though you're unable to begin when Satoru elaborates. "Two weeks ago, a small girl was seen chasing a grade four, and upon capturing it, the curse was ingested."

You frown. "Who reported this?" Satoru hears the panic in your voice, no matter how strong you try to be. Just like when you were teenagers, you feign confidence against him, yet in equal power, Satoru can see right through you. 

"A grade three sorcerer working within this district reported it to the higher ups. They've decided her potential is too strong to ignore."  You're staring at him wide eyed, and he feels guilt as he watches you grieve this life. Satoru wouldn't tell you how he'd practically pleaded with them to let her be a child before introducing her to the horrors of this world, because he didn't want you to know he'd failed you. 

"What if I refuse?"  "You know the answer, do I really have to spell it out to you? There is no other choice." His words imbue a hopelessness into you, and you finally give up, walking past him to take a seat on the couch. The cushions sink under you, and your hands rest upon each leg. There's one question you have left.

"Does he know?" Monotone, dead. Your tone sends a chill over Satoru's spine; he's never seen you so genuinely defeated. Even when he'd found out about your pregnancy, you held yourself together better than this. But even with all of Satoru's experience, his strength, he still couldn't empathise with that of parenthood. Megumi was the closest thing he had to that, though he understands that the relationship the pair share is nothing close to the love you would have for your own blood. 

"You left with no word as to where you'd gone. If I told him it was to have his child, what would he have done?" There's some bitterness to his words, and you cringe.   "Didn't he question the fact there's a child with his technique?" 

Satoru moves from one foot to the other, crossing his arms as he watches your meek state. You're slouched and sweating, and your eyes haven't lifted from the same patch of carpet for the past two minutes. Though with his quietness, your gaze lifts, stopping at his lips. 

"He doesn't know." 

You nod once, taking your teeth between your lips. This is worse than being lectured, you think, enduring the judgement of a person you value highly, feeling their revulsion of a decision you made long ago. "Don't you think he had a right to know before all of this?" You stay silent, your arms closing in closer to your body as if to hug yourself. "It's only right he hears it from you, before this goes any further." 

Only, you still haven't made that call, and told him the truth. You watch your daughter walk toward the school, her hand in yours, while Suguru is none the wiser. It's a secret you knew would be revealed within the next few hours, unrevealed as long as you'd been able.

Shoko's leaving the lab when you enter the halls. You don't notice her at first, instead preoccupied by the small girl beside you, though when your eyes lift from the little fingers wrapped around yours, you stop dead in your tracks. 

Not many things shock Shoko. She likes to think she's seen all, and likely knows most of what goes on even if only surface level, but when she sees you in Jujutsu High with a child clutching at your hand, she comes to a standstill, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

 Keiko takes a few steps, her little feet tapping on the hard floors, though soon notices her mother's halted action.  "Mama, come on."

Shoko's brow raises, a sharp gasp on her lips as she pieces things together. The child looks to be around two, and not long before that you'd left - this must've been the result of that pregnancy test you'd requested long ago. And as she stares at her a little longer, taking in at the warm toned brown eyes, she realises why you'd left. This child had to be Suguru's, her features were far too akin to his to be coincidental.

She says your name, though it sounds foreign to her now. She wonders when the last time she'd called out to you was, and when you peer anxiously to her expression, she realises how you've matured, mellowed almost. There's a protectiveness she can sense, you're definitely more closed off, but that's understandable considering the fact you've been gone and likely without much social contact.

"Hi." Part of you had hoped for a better reunion, but with how things went it was only understandable that Shoko wouldn't be running to hug you anytime soon. "You’re a mother, huh?" There's little goosebumps over your skin as you swallow, nodding slowly. Of course, she'd remember your offish self asking her for tests, and she'd be able to piece things together. "What's her name?"

You knew Shoko wouldn't bring harm to you both, and if she's worked out your daughter's father, she wouldn't press you on it. "It's Keiko." You look down to your daughter, who's holding your hand a little tighter in the presence of a stranger. Funny, growing up you'd thought these people would be your children's family, yet here your baby is, backing up at the sight of a woman she'd never met.

"Keiko," Shoko crouches to her eye level. "That's a beautiful name." Shoko offers her a smile, and Keiko's hand loosens up a little, though it's still clammy on your palm. "Thanks." It's spoken quietly, and the 'th' sounds more like an 'f', but it's coherent enough.

"What are you both doing here?" Shoko's looking back to you now, standing up to meet your level once again. Mouth opening, your free hand comes to your arm to fiddle with your jacket. "The higher-ups found out about her technique." "Manipulation?" You pause. So, she's figured it out. "Yeah. They want him to show her the way, I guess." "But he doesn't know." "No, he doesn't." You offer her a half smile in hopes she would forgive you. "I was kind of hoping he'd find out before i got here, but he hasn't."

Shoko wants to tell you it's your job to tell him and that you need to face your fears, but she keeps her mouth closed in order to save your feelings. Instead, she nods quietly, arms crossed. When the air is too stale to bare any longer, you breathe it in, deciding to take you leave before you would combust on the spot. "I've got to find Yaga, we have a meeting." Your words are rushed and you almost stumble as you walk past her. 

"Who was that?" Keiko questions in her own muddled words, and you force a happy expression when meeting her gaze. "Mama's old friend, from school."

Suguru sits back in the beat up couch, bitter instant coffee still swirling as he places it on the low table. The staffroom has definitely seen better days, he was sure this furniture would've been used back when he'd attended Jujutsu High, with stains and scratches over old wood, rings from mugs of coffee much like his own. Budget cuts had meant money was syphoned into other things, much less into staff.

"A meeting, with Yaga?" He repeats Satoru's words carefully, brow creased. He watches as the brown liquid begins to settle, a few bubbles at the surface meeting in the middle. "Yeah, something about a new student." The explanation makes much less sense to Suguru, because this year he's supposed to be taking on more missions, and offering a supporting role rather than holding his own classes. "And why would that concern me?" His voice is tired, he's tired. The school is working them all into an early grave, he thinks. What was supposed to be more of a career break had somehow turned into more work than he's ever had, and he realises the only way out of this is to leave Jujutsu society for good - much like you did.

Suguru can't deny he feels responsible for your sudden leaving. As if a phone call would've fixed anything between you after he'd not only slept with you, but left you to fend for yourself afterward too. He thinks about you a lot, much to his own distaste. It's his fault you're not here, after all.

"You'll be teaching them part time." Suguru outwardly sighs, a hand flying up to massage his temples. "Of course." It was drenched in acidity, and Satoru shifts. He's still standing, muscles tense as he watches his friend stress himself further. It's been a difficult few years, and he is sure Suguru is at the end of his tether. Satoru worries that your return might just be the thing that breaks him entirely.

"What do you know, Satoru?" When he zones back into the room, glancing away from the disgustingly beige walls to peer into his friend's brown eyes, he realises he'd worn his concerns too evidently. "Not much," He lies, something he's found himself doing consistently as of recent. "She's young, though. A child." He tries to soften the blow by letting on that piece of information now, because he knows Suguru will be disgusted to find out they're having him begin training with a child who cannot yet read, let alone understand what a curse is.

"How young?" Suguru's intuition tells him that something is awry here, but he can't place his finger on what exactly it is. Satoru is definitely withholding something important, and he understands that he's not going to find out what until he's in Yaga's office. "Fine, don't tell me."

With a sigh, he pushes himself up from the couch, all the while Satoru is stood in silence, that pitying look he hates being bestowed unto him. The coffee on the table is going cold, not that Suguru has much of a stomach for it anyway.

a/n: soooo yes, reader ran from her problems (sorrrry) but it looks like suguru is about to find out everything...

tags - @animeisforkings @emikisses @boredwithwrath @karazorel7 @tomiokasecretlover  @mrsoharaa @magey0412 @thisbicc @aemiliabruno @zeunys @sukunaspillow @caixgee @ssetsuka @pinkpunkdynamite @harlamarie @chilicopsticks @khoochie @hojoslutoru @karazorel @idkuluka @itztamar @magey0412 @strflp @kaeyakaikai

[idesofrevolution]

Horizons II: Numbers

READ CHAPTER ONE HERE

I looked at Omarion with my lupine grin, my sweet lookin' stolen face twisted and devilish. Couldn’t stop myself from snatching the blunt right out of his fingers mid puff and bringing it to my lips. Here’s the thing, bro; yeah, I was 6'3 and fit as fuck, not gonna lie. But Omarion was another beast entirely. The guy was almost 7'0 and lean like the good runner he was. You had to have someone get in and out of a place like a jackrabbit? Omarion's your boy. Those size 17 stompers he's got somehow are quick and quiet, especially when he kicks my ass on the basketball court. I let out a big fuckin' cloud in his face, winkin' as I hand the smokin' cigarello back to him.

"So, 'white boy'..." Omarion chuckled under his breath, still all kinds of fucked up about his Colombian parcero stretchin' out this gringo's bod. "You got a dude for me or what? Fuckin' hogs be runnin' me all over town." I looked down at my feet, racking this dude's memories for the name of that little sidepiece that he dumps his load into every Saturday night. I pushed down the growing rage I felt as Aidan's face continued to appear in my head- I didn't have a bit of guilt squeezin' into this fucker knowing what he did to that kid. I had even less guilt about what I was about to do to that tiny lil bitch as his name finally popped into my brain.

"Orlando. Orlando Avellaneda." Omarion raised his eyebrow at me as I looked at him with my big blue eyes. I kinda loved the way it fucked with him. "He's over off Frederick Street. He's this dude's little fuck toy. Bruh, it's wild. This guy is a full on fuckin' racist, but he's got a thing for the Cuban boys." Omarion took a big drag from the lit cigarello, puffin' out a couple of rings before smiling.

"Beggars can't be choosers, bro. But you ain't stickin' that monster inside me, even if I'm in 'your' side ho." I punched that tatted up tower in the arm, laughin' at his seriousness.

"You good, man. I promise I won't drill ya. Can't promise you won't wanna, though." I pawed at my bulge playfully as he grimaced in disgust.

"Boy if you don't stop playin'. Get in the fuckin' car." He stomped his giant AF1 on the blunt, struttin' over to the far corner of the warehouse. I followed behind, and behind the back pillar sat a fresh as fuck Jeep. Omarion hopped in the driver's seat, and the engine roared to life. Fuck I missed that sound. Nothin' like a roarin' engine, speedin' down the highway, dodgin' screamin' pigs and bitch ass Nissans to get away. I hopped in, wondering if I'd ever get to feel that rush again. I think back to Aidan, that innocent little face of his... was I really condemned to being some nine to fiver, rotting away in a cubicle. I couldn't ditch the dude, that would fuck him up beyond fixin'. But this beast can't be fuckin' caged man.

"Haul ass outta here, bro. Gotta get back before he gets suspicious." Omarion rolled his eyes, slammin' that cinder block foot onto the gas and plowing through the wood planks on the warehouse door, and out of the port. I looked down at Chase's phone, pullin' up his texts. I scrolled through bullshit after bullshit from his lame ass bank job- put a pin in that for later. Finally, I found the little shit. Orlando's name popped up midway down, the horny fuck puttin' a peach emoji right on his contact. I hit call and put my finger to my lips, Omarion snickering as I did.

"Uh... Chase? Did you forget your wallet again?" His voice was shrill and irritating, nothin' like Aidan. You could hear the brattiness with every word.

"I'm comin' over. Get that ass ready." He was quiet on the other side of the line, givin' me a mini heart attack thinkin' I'd fucked up and freaked him out. At least until I heard his breaths under the static.

"Mmmm playin' bad boy tonight are we? Your houseboy not giving you what you need?" I felt my teeth grind, who the fuck was this little cocksucker to talk about him that way... I took a deep breath, Omarion still raisin' his eyebrows at my huffin' and puffin'.

"Yeah, I'm feelin' nasty tonight. I'm gonna stretch that mouth as wide as it'll go." Little did he know.

"Door's unlocked, lemme give you what he can't. See you soon, baby." He hung up, and I tossed Chase's phone onto the center console of the car. Wouldn't be needing it for much longer, anyway. Omarion had his eyes plastered on the road, clearly biting his tongue. Honestly, I get it. I ate pussy like it was a fuckin' banquet, so did he. I didn't understand why I got so fuckin' enfadado at any slight against that blonde twink either. As much as I got under this gringo's skin, he'd gotten under mine too.

"So. You into this boy, ain't you?" I whipped my head to scowl at him.

"I'm not into him. I'm just playin' the game, bro." He chuckled under his breath, shakin' his head.

“Sure, bruh. Last I checked you were on track for a hundred bitches in one year. Eyes on the prize, brother!” He turned, laughin’ his stupid ass off, but not one laugh came outta me. That shit didn’t escape him, he noticed right away. That smile faded quick before we sat the rest of the ride in silence, he didn’t even put on Kendrick like he usually did. This shit was gettin' complicated. As we pulled up to his bougie ass townhouse, I heard the lil' ping comin' out of my phone, seeing a missed call and text from Aidan. Omarion opened the door, stepping out onto the street, turnin' to stare at me. "C'mon bro, we don't have time for this shit."

"Bruh, gimme a fuckin' second!" I swiped down, seeing the message from Aidan:

Aidan: Did you get stuck in traffic? I hope the ice cream doesn't melt...

I smiled, that boy ain't even mad. I don't get people worryin' about where I'm at, what I'm doin', who I'm with... I opened the camera, snapping a picture givin' him those 'Imma fuck the shit outta you' eyes.

Chase: yeah, babe- got stuck by the bridge. ice cream is fucked, gonna get you a nice n creamy one. i know u like that.

He replied with that naughty lil' devil emoji. Mmmm... I bet he'd be on his knees the minute I walked in that door. I felt my rod stirrin' in my jock, drippin' my juices out this gringo's swollen cock. This guy really got me goin'... but fuck. I wasn't a fuckin' cocksucker.

"Put that fuckin' phone down. We gotta fuckin' go, bro!" I nodded at Omarion, seein' just how pissed he was gettin' standing there. Tossin' that phone in the backseat, I got out the car and walked up to his door. Tappin' the doorbell, that thirsty lil fuck came runnin' down the stairs, whipping that door open quicker than I expected. The skinny lil twig stared up at me, clearly confused why Chase was as sexy as I made him overnight and why this 7'0 shirtless ebony giant is lookin' at him that way. The kid was a pipsqueak. Fresh outta college, ‘applying for dental school’ apparently. Typical dick cravin’ lil’ fa… gay boy.

"Whoa... Chase?" The lil bitch looked me up and down, I snickered as I saw his dicklet go full mast as I crossed my inked arms.

"The one and only, baby." I winked at him, watchin' his face flush red as an apple, before throwin' my arm around my bro. "This is Omarion. I think he's in need of a little.. stress relief." My man was gropin' at that jackhammer of his and that monster grew at just a single touch, snakin' down his sweatpants like the anaconda it is. I smirked, watchin' drool start to stream down Orlando's smooth chin.

"Yeeh... Yeah that sounds... good... But, when did you get tat..." I couldn't help but laugh as Omarion gripped him by the fuckin' cheeks, pushing him back into the living room. I shut the door behind us, smugly turning the deadbolt before slowly pullin' down my sweats. I turned around, grippin' my musky, sticky jock and my jaw nearly fuckin' dropped. Omarion had already dropped trou, his big ass Nikes and sweats chucked over the back end of the couch, and both Orlando and I completely fixated on that huge ass screwdriver stickin' straight outta his curly pubes. Fuck, maybe I hadn't really looked before when we double teamed the last few girls- too busy with my cock down her throat, but holy fuckin' shit bruh. Thick as a beercan, veins runnin' down that footlong like rivers, and his mushroom head pokin' the little twink right in the nose.

"Yo, you down for the spit?" Omarion snickered as he pried Orlando's thin lips open, hockin' a thick wad of spit into his mouth. Man, when I tell you I was in the fuckin' position in three seconds flat-the twink's feet over my shoulders, his grey shorts pulled to the side with that puckery hole just beggin' for my cock. Omarion threw up his fist, our tatted knucks colliding like the green light we both knew it was. "Alright lil' bitch, open wide." Orlando, the obedient little sub, could barely open that mouth any bigger than he already did before my bro had thrust that footer straight down his throat, blowin' out a hoot of pleasure as his head slowly fell back. My mind flashed back to Aidan back at the apartment, probably checkin' his phone to see if I was on my way back...

"Bro..." Man... I couldn't get him out of my head. I had a tight hole pressed against my steamy bulge and all I could think about was... "BRO!" I shook my head, lookin' up at my bro straight up face fuckin' Orando's gaggin' face. "Wake the fuck up, bruh. Hurry it up and stick it in already!" It's a means to an end, I tell myself. I pull down my jock, my cock already standin' alert, drippin' with my pre and some of last night's load still caught under the hood. I felt my old self for a sec- my brows gettin' low, my teeth barin', that animal snarl... Well, his hole will be a nice lil' cleaner for me. I smirked, pressin' that musky head against his beggin' pucker, and with a deep fuckin' groan, slowly let my slimy rod slip into his guts. "That's my fuckin' boy. Come on!" Omarion picked up his pace, leanin' over the fucker and holdin' onto the couch beneath him, grinnin' from ear to ear. Man, when I say I love tag teamin' with my boy, I FUCKIN' LOVE IT. The guy just turns up the heat, bruh, and that shit just gets me goin'.

I let my long ass tongue flop out my mouth, smilin' and pantin' as I start plowin' that twink ass. Orlando was moanin' and chirpin' like the thirsty lil slut he is, gettin' pegged from both sides by two professional fuckers. Sweat drippin' down my forehead, Omarion and I just look at eachother, smirkin' at the sounds of his sweaty balls slappin' against the twink's face, and my groin against his bony lil' ass.

"Fuckin' take this dick, lil' pussy. Yeah suck it." Omarion slapped Orlando's cheek, the little pervert whining as he's spitroasted. As the lil' fucker's eyes closed in lust, my boy looked me dead in the eye, and I knew exactly what it meant. Omarion slowly stepped back, his dick slowly pulling out of the twink's throat. I lean in over his panting face, my scowl growin' crazed as I rammed his ass.

"Woohoo, bro. You really shoulda got your own breeder, pendejo. This one's taken." His eyes squinted in confusion as I pulled out of his lil' pucker, and Omarion made his move, stickin' that massive mitt into his open mouth, pullin' his lips wider and wider- his head stretchin' and distorting as he tugged, before bringin' his size 17 dog up and shovin' it down Orlando's pre-stretched throat. That wet squelch rang out as his neck bulged around the shape of that smelly fuckin' boat slidin' down into his chest.

Lemme just break this down for you. Slippin' into someone, that's one thing. Feels fuckin' great, gets you off, the sounds and smells and the texture... yeah it's hot. But watchin' your bro squeezin' into some bitchass... that's a whole different fuckin' level, bruh. Seein' him plop his ass on the back of the couch, slippin' his other foot down the twink's gurglin' throat, lettin' himself just slide down into Orlando's bod lubed with his own sweat. I couldn't help myself, bro. I grabbed my musky cock, slowly pumpin' it as I watched his calves slurp down into the lil' fucker. This is karma, bitch. I bet he loved the feelin' of his thick ass thighs stretchin' his head like a rubber mask, or the smell of his round sweaty ass as he sits down right on top of his nose. Wanna know how I know? Those whimpers turned into moans real fuckin' quick. He turned and looked at me jackin' away, goonin' at the insane sight.

"Bruh, c'mon! I get your bod is gettin' you horny but help me in and we can get the fuck outta here!" Fuck, he was right. Bein' inside Chase had my brain doin' a buncha fuck shit, as much as I'd changed him- I think he was changin' me too... I blinked, runnin over to the squirming pipsqueak and holding him down, watchin' as Omarion kept sinkin' himself deeper and deeper inside of him. His toes bulged out beneath the pale skin, slidin' down his smooth legs, his skinny calves, and with a buncha grunts n' squeezin' from Omarion, his gigantic feet suctioned into Orlando's immediately bloating them into my boy's veiny, funky size 17s.

Omarion goes to a whole 'nother level when he's gettin' into you. Those eyes got wild, grinnin' like the Joker as he pinched the twink's waist, and stretched the legs tight over his own. Slowly, Orlando's legs swelled and suctioned over my boy's his tight calves and basketball-trained quads bulging out of this kid's skin. His curly brown hairs sprouting out of the pale legs, before quickly tanning with his mocha body inside.

"Lemme just... Unf!" He shoved his hands into the gapin' maw, slinkin' down to his semi hard dick, deflated after his fake lust had faded away. I watched as his snake slid into Orlando's, stretchin' it wide before those kiwi balls of his slurped into his new droopy sac. The man was gigglin' like a fuckin' lunatico, his ass now inflating the bony rear into two watermelons below his skinny waist. His arms found their way into the twink's shoulders; like slippin' on a pair of overalls, all he needed to do was shrug, and the rubbery skin slurped over his torso and chest. A couple of his tatts slowly rose to the surface: barbed wire from his time in the pen, and two snakes circlin' around eachother- a tribute to our partnership for the past decade. His arms slid down into their new gloved home, the skin creaking and groaning as the big ol' mitts swelled into their new fingers n' palms.

"Aight bro, thanks for the ride!" We bumped our knuckles, as he took Orlando's orgasmic face, pulling it over the back of his head and letting it snap right over his own. Squeaks, creaks, and squelches echoed in the room as he tugged on the mask atop his head: Orlando's lips growin' thick, his nose flattenin', the sharp stubble poppin' out his sharp jaw... Fuck... Why was I thinkin' that way...

My bro opened his new eyes, the twink's pretty boy face now twisted into a gruff ass snarl. Reachin' over to his sweatpants, he pulled out the blunt he'd rolled in the car, stickin' it between his lips and lighting it. Seein' a lil' cockslut turn into a fuckin' giant ass man, blowin' his thick clouds was such a fuckin' trip.

"Orlando, huh? Bruh, this guy was a fuckin' tightass motherfucker." Hearin' that high pitched voice gravelly n' low... that shit got my stomach in knots. "This shit never gets old, man. Trippy as fuck every time." He took another puff before handin' that good shit over to me, snickering at my hard on I'd tried to slip back into my jock. As I took a hit, that motherfucker started leanin' over and pokin' it! "Yeah, man. I see what you mean when ya slip into a cocksucker. Certain things just look... different through these eyes."

I couldn't say for sure man, but I think I felt my cheeks get red from his touch. Even through this twunk's face I could see Omarion's fuckin' smirk on his lips, feel that fucker's grip in his hands, smell that musk flowin' from out his skin. It was Omarion through and through, and fuck was it crazy to see those lil things comin' from Orlando's body. I smacked that chucklin' dick's hand off my rod, playin' it off as best I could.

"Yeah, you fuckin' wish this dick was up your thirsty ass." He huffed under his breath, jumpin' off the bed and over to the bag he'd dropped by the door to get into a more fittin' look.

"Shit, bruh. He's got some spunk in these balls. Just gimme some pussy and... UNH... UNH... UNH..." He hip thrust forward, grinnin' as he slipped on his tank. I couldn't watch him too long, 'cuz as much as I wanted to deny it, I wanted to see him fuckin' some tight hole in this bod. He looked good.

"Heh, you gonna find some good cumdump in that pretty boy." I walked over, handin' him the joint before slippin' on my sweatpants. I felt him lookin' at me, didn't have to even turn around.

"So... what's the plan, bro? Back to 'your' place, regroup, and get movin'?" I stopped for a second, realizing that while I shoulda been thinkin about the escape plan, I wasn't. Every moment that day my head shoulda been in the game, like it was every other time I hid in some perra. But it wasn't. The whole time, all I was thinkin' was how long it'd take to get back to Aidan.

"Uh, yeah. We should get goin'." I turned around, lookin' at him slippin those big funky dogs into his AF1's, tossin' the empty bag over his shoulder.

“Well, let’s dip.” Omarion strut out the door as if he owned the place. Well, I guess he did, heh. He’s always been a pro at this shit. Bro is a fuckin’ chameleon. When he’s in you, nobody would do so much as a double take. He’s got your memories on lock. He’s got your interests on lock. He’s got your voice, your walk, your smile… By the time he hops out, he’s got ‘em thinkin’ you just had a phase or some shit like that.

See, when we’re inside you, you’re seein’ everything we’re seein’, feelin’ how we feel, thinkin’ how we think… Sometimes when we ditch your skin, you wake up a bit different than you used to be. I mean, we’re doin’ you a favor. You get a fuckin’ sick ass sex god wearin’ and stretchin’ your body out, you’re gonna walk away with a bit of our swagger in you, bruh. Chase was a slow learner with that, bitchin’ and moanin’ 24/7, but nothin’ more than a whisper way back there pretendin’ like he hates my big ass schlong swingin’ between his legs. But Omarion, he has a fuckin’ queue of bros beggin’ him to squeeze back in ‘em. He does somethin’ different, bro. I don’t know how to explain it. I didn’t then, on that drive that night after stoppin’ at some shitty cornerstore to swipe some ice cream for Aidan, I just sorta stared at him. Didn’t say much, just vibed to some Curren$y as he weaved through fuckin’ slow ass cars; but I had to ask.

“So how the fuck 're you so good at this shit, man?” He turned to me, raisin’ his eyebrow. “Like you get in him like it’s nothin’, and it’s like he’s always been this way. No one bats a fuckin’ eye.” Omarion rolled his eyes, turnin’ back to the road.

“You get way too into it, bruh.” His voice was low and cold.

“The fuck? What’s that supposed to mean?” I knew exactly what he meant. But in the back of my head, I needed to hear him say it.

“When I go into hidin’, I’m not out there keepin’ up their relationships. I’m not callin’ their moms. I don’t give a fuck about goin’ into work. I get in, get the fuck outta town, and get out. No strings, no bullshit.” His eyes were fixed on the road, I knew he’d been meanin’ to say this for a while. “But you, bro? You out there makin’ sure the rent is paid. You out there makin’ excuses for where they’re goin’. You tellin’ their professors you goin’ to a funeral so you gotta take some time off of class. You get involved, bruh. You always do.” He finally looked at me, not mad or anything, but he was serious. “This time I got a feelin’ you in too deep.”

“I’m am not.” I did my best to be all, ‘I don’t give a fuck’ about the clock. But Omarion knows me too damn well. He saw right through that shit.

“We stopped for ice cream for your butt buddy, bro.” We sat in silence for an uncomfortably long time. Felt like fuckin’ ages, but he finally summed it up. “You gotta ditch this dude. We stayin’ the night and you either ditch the boyfriend or ditch the bod. Get a new dude and leave this shit in the dust. We got a job to do. Don’t forget that.”

Took forty minutes to get back to the apartment. Bruh, I was sweatin' bullets. I didn't know how Omarion would vibe with Aidan, what kind of excuse I was gonna have to come up with. I looked down at the plastic bag and the half melted chocolate ice cream inside. No, the bodega didn't have fuckin' pistachio. Yes, I asked. Omarion stood next to me in the elevator, flexin' and snappin' pics to send the boss.

"Aight, we're friends. We saw eachother at the corner store. You're comin' back to smoke and chill. Got it?" Omarion huffed, slippin' his bod's phone back into his sweats.

"Yeah, we good. But tomorrow mornin', we dippin' right?" I couldn't even look at him. I just nodded. "Bruh, we're gettin' the fuck outta here, ditchin' these bitches and gettin' back to the boss. That's the fuckin' plan. Don't get all horny for this dude, you ain't stayin."

"I'm not fuckin' horny for him, bro!" The elevator doors opened, and we walked up to the door. Just as I was fuckin' with the keys, I heard the door unlock and watched as the door swung open. He stood on the other side, lookin' irritated as fuck. Aidan stood there with his arms crossed, flingin' knives out his eyes.

“Just headed to get ice cream, huh?” I stuttered, couldn’t get a single word out. He looked so disappointed, man. “Two nights, Chase? Two nights you come home hours late, doing who knows what kind of shit all night!” He was pissed, and let me tell you somethin’. No one fuckin’ talks to me like that. You raise your voice, I raise my fuckin’ fist. Talk to me like I’m some bitch and you’ll be hangin’ by your balls from the ceiling. So, why couldn’t I say anything? I stood there like a fuckin’ tool, stutterin’ and all ‘uhhh… ummm… you know…’ If he were any other bro comin’ at me like that I’d have laid his ass out on the tile floor. But not a fuckin’ word would leave my lips. I just couldn’t, man. Thank fuckin’ Christ for Omarion, savin’ the day with a quick one.

“Hey, I’m Orlando. I’m friends with Chase.” He stuck his hand out, smiling at Aidan with that charmer grin of his. “I saw this dumbass beggin’ the guy at the counter for some pistachio ice cream and was like 'yo, it’s my boy!” Aidan looked at him all skeptical, just starin’ at his hand. Turnin’ to me, all I did was nod like a fuckin’ dumbass, handing him the bag of ice cream. I was gettin’ nervous, but after a second or two he cracked a smile and shook his hand. I let out a sigh of relief. As Omarion did what he did best, playin’ it on the down low and makin’ him feel all comfortable.

“Nice to meet you, Orlando. Sorry about the blow up. But your ‘bro’ over there knows what I’m talkin’ about, right?” I could tell he was still annoyed, but Omarion’s magic tongue had taken his tone down. He waved us in, lettin’ Omarion through but holdin’ his arm in front of me before I could even walk through the door. He got in close, and I felt his arms slowly slide around my waist. I saw under that sweet lil’ smile a whole lotta sadness. I really fuckin’ hurt the guy. His lips quickly planted on mine, my eyes closed and all I wanted to do was to at least make the guy feel like this piece of shit I was piloting would do the right thing for once. When our lips parted, he leaned into my ear and whispered. “Please, Chase. Don’t do it again.”

He turned around, walkin’ to the kitchen to get some bowls. I shut the door behind us, and couldn’t avoid Omarion’s fuckin’ death stare. All of that just proved his point. I was in deep, too fuckin’ deep. But seein’ him again in that moment, the big blue eyes and that sweet smile… I was havin’ second thoughts about the plan.

---

Alright, folks! This is going to be the last entry of Horizons posted to Tumblr, the rest of this piece is gonna be exclusively on Blogspot and GSS. I know that may disappoint some of y'all, but here's why. Tumblr isn't the greatest place for longform multichapter stories, and Horizons is turning into something a lot bigger than just two or three posts on here. Each of these chapters are turning into 5k+ words and it's just not ideal for this platform. GSS allows for multiple chapters under a uniform series, which helps tremendously with continuity. I invite y'all to come check out Horizons on GSS, and I'll be sure to link it whenever a new chapter is added. As of right now, I have solid plot framework for 4 chapters of it, with it being very open to having several more afterward. I'll continue to have one-offs on Tumblr, so don't think I'm ditchin' y'all. I'm still here and I ain't going nowhere. :)

[world-of-aus]

Pairing: Cowboy!Bucky x Nanny!Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I'm honestly still in my cowboy era and have also been wanting to try my hand at making a series so I bring you this little piece! I have it more less planned and hope you all will stick around and enjoy this ride with me! Happy Readings!

The iron gate is warm under his touch, the rising sun low enough in the sky that the iron railing has now begun to cool. He watches his dark-haired boy run around the ‘arena’; lasso gripped tightly in his small hands as he gives the calf chase.  

Bucky chuckles smile pulling at his lips as he calls out to his son, “champ you got to get that rope off the ground if you want to catch ‘im”. The boy all but stops in his track, feet throwin up dirt chocolate eyes locking on his, “the ropes to long daddy, I’m trying!” he pouts.  

Clambering off the rails his feet hit the dirt as he makes his way into the gated ‘arena’ closing the distance between him and his son. He gets down to eye level, pout still adorning his boy’s lips, “you, Uncle Steve, and Sam make this look so easy, I don’t get what I’m doing wrong, I'm doing exactly how I see you do it.” 

“Not doing anything wrong champ, c’mere,” he says pulling his son close. “Put your hand here, and wrap this,” he says adjusting his sons' hands, “right here, make sure it’s tight now, don’t want to lose your grip on it and risk that calf getting away from you now.”  

Grant follows his father’s directions, “alright, now that we got the rope secured let's get it above our heads.” He helps his son get the rope going, “see, you’re getting it, now, I want you to throw it right at that spot over there imagine the calf's just sitting, focus now,” He advises finger pointed to a spot just feet ahead. Bucky watches his son, tongue peeked out of his lips as he concentrates, rope still swinging. It falls quiet for a moment, then the soft thud of rope hitting dirt meets their ears. Grants grin is wide as he snaps his head back to look at his dad, “I did it daddy! I did it!” He mirrors his son’s smile pulling him in for a bone-crushing hug, lips finding the side of his chocolate locks, “knew you could bud, knew you could.” 

“I can’t wait to tell Aunt Tasha about it!” the boy’s excitement grows, “well how about we get a few more rounds of practice in, we still got some time before she gets here.” 

They’re outside in the arena practicing till the sun begins to dip into the west horizon making way for the moon and stars that have begun to decorate the still early night sky. Bucky leads him and his son from the arena, leaving the calf with his mom in the barn before they make their way to the house. Steve’s truck is parked out front, him and Natasha sitting on the porch waiting. 

Grant spots his aunt and uncle first, excitement hardly contained as he drops his dad’s hand bolting to the front porch, his aunt’s name on his lips. Bucky stops by the front of Steve’s truck watching his son, he’s in Natasha’s arms, raving about his day to them, Steve and Natasha hearing him with wonder in their eyes. 

“You’re going to be running circles around the arena in no time bud, put all of us to shame, especially your dad” Steve teases meeting his eyes. 

Bucky laughs, “The day he puts me to shame in the arena will be the greatest day of my life, means I taught him well.’ 

“While we can’t wait for the day he puts ALL OF YOU to shame, I’d like to enjoy my little man while I can, right champ?” Natasha grins hoisting the boy higher on her hip. Grant is taken with his aunt hands curling around her neck as he squeezes her there cheeks mushing together. 

There’s an ache in Bucky’s chest as he watches the scene before him, like the many restless nights he has he can’t help but to think in this moment what he could have done differently, what he could have said to make her stay. He’s her carbon copy, he hates it. She doesn’t deserve to have any piece of him, not after she just up and left without so much as a word. Bucky still recalls the urgent call from the daycare asking if anyone would be coming for Grant. He hadn’t been able to get ahold of her since that day, not that he’s tried much since Grant’s 3rd birthday. 

“Buck - hey pal everything good, you sure you still wanna meet Sam at thirsty barrel?” 

The brunette is pulled from his reverie, eyes falling on his best friend who has since approached him, he shakes his head, “yeah - yeah pal sorry just thinking.” He looks over Steve’s shoulder, Natasha and Grant waving at him, he waves back, “have fun you guys, me and little man are gonna have some fun of our own, isn’t that right!” 

“Make sure he’s in bed by 9, 10 the latest.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever dad, get out of here!” Natasha replies waving them off. 

Steve and Bucky chuckle making sure Natasha and Grant get inside the house before they clamber into Steve’s truck. 

“You sure you feeling up for tonight?” Steve questions him as he turns the key in the ignition. Bucky watches the house, getting a glimpse of Grant through the window, “I’m sure, my thoughts just got the best of me but I'll be fine.” Steve puts the truck into drive, “she’s not worth it Buck, the day she decided to leave, cut all contact with you, with grant that’s the day she stopped being of any importance.” 

“Yeah,” he murmurs eyes drifting out the window as Steve backs out of the ranch, “it’s just I wonder if I had done things differently if she would still be here.” 

“You gave her your all Buck; I don’t think there’s anything more you could have given her to make her stay.” 

And though Bucky knows Steve is right, his words don’t sting any less. 

The thirsty barrel was in full swing, the bar packed to the brim. Bucky, Steve and Sam had managed to snag the last remaining booth, drinks being run to their table as they talked business. 

“So you find anyone to watch little man when we hit the road at the end of the month?” Sam questioned over his drink. 

Bucky sighed, he had forgotten, he had been so busy with Grant, with the ranch that he had forgot to look into a caretaker for his son. Another thing he would have to add to his to do list for tomorrow. He shakes his head taking a sip of his beer, “not yet, been looking around but I haven't settled on anyone yet.” 

Sam tsks, “We have two weeks before we’re needing to head out on the road Buck, and little man can’t come with us because of school.” Bucky places his drink down running a hand over his bearded scruff, “you don’t think I know that Sam, I'm trying, just haven’t had luck, can’t just trust anyone with him either, I need to know he’s going to be safe, cared for.” 

“I can ask Natasha to skip this trip Buck, I’m sure it won’t be a problem, she loves spending time with grant.”  

Bucky shakes his head at Steve, “absolutely not pal, I know how much Natasha is looking forward to seeing you ride, I can’t ask that of you or her – I'll find someone – I will.” 

A damper has been placed on Bucky’s mood despite the change in subject, and he’s quiet for most of the night tuning in here and there when Steve or Sam directs something at him. He’s there, but not really, his mind drifting to the thought of his son. If Sam or Steve notice his absence, they don’t mention it, nor do they push him to converse, they know how hard it's been for him since she left, and they try to do all they can to help him. 

They’re not at the bar long, Sam being the first one to throw in the towel, Steve seconding the notion, Bucky doesn’t argue as they pay the tab, each leaving a tip for their waitress. The trio say their goodbyes outside of the bar, Sam promising to stop by the ranch tomorrow to see grant, get some riding time in with the boy, Steve jumps in to join as well. “Can use all the practice, only got two weeks left,” he chuckles. 

Bucky and Steve see Sam off before they get inside the truck, it's quiet most of the ride home, Bucky appreciates Steve for giving him this. It’s only until they’re pulling into the ranch 30 minutes later that he does decide to speak up. 

“I’ll help you find someone for Grant,” he says putting the truck in park, eyes meeting his friends, “make sure that it’s someone we can trust, the closest to family that we can get.” 

Bucky nods, the fear of that not being possible choking him, Steve reaches a hand out laying it on his shoulder, squeezing, “I promise pal, we’ll find you someone, we’ve got two weeks.” 

Two weeks. 

Two weeks. 

Bucky’s nodding again, “I appreciate you pal, listen I'll go get Natasha for you, know you two have quite the drive, don’t want it getting late for you.” 

Steve gives him his thanks watching him get off the truck, make his way up the steps and to the front door. Bucky disappears inside, returning a few minutes later with Natasha. Steve watches the two exchange a few words before she’s pulling Bucky into a tight embrace more words shared. The two pull away and Bucky watches her as she gets into the truck safely.  

They all wave one final time at each other before Bucky heads back inside, the lights of his home flickering off one at a time. Steve waits till the last light has been turned off before he’s putting the truck back in drive, making his way out of the ranch. 

“How was he?” Natasha questions finding Steve’s hand. 

“He’s not doing good,” Steve answers, “he’s worried about leaving Grant at the end of the month.” 

“I can stay, you know I don’t mind, I can watch you ride anytime.” 

Steve looks over to her, “he already said no, you know he isn't going to go back on his word,” his eyes flick back to the road, “we just need to find someone he can trust; we need family.” 

It goes quiet in the cab of the truck for a moment, Natasha speaks up a few minutes later, “I might have someone, she’s a family friend, I could have her come meet us at the ranch tomorrow.” Steve gives her a questioning look, the redhead rolls her eyes, “Bucky doesn’t keep anything from me where Grant is involved, it’ll be perfect everyone can meet her, see how she fits in.” 

Steve agrees, and he can’t help but hope this works out, he didn’t want to see his friend hurting anymore, and he hoped with help that he might be the Bucky he was before her. 

[ofstardustanddreaming]

a.n. - i swear i'm getting to the poly hiromi and nanami series lol, but in the meantime, here's a small something. i'm currently in arizona celebrating a wedding, and it's making me think about miscellaneous marriage headcanons with some of the characters 😩😩i would also love some requests soon, i'm kind of dry on them :(

satoru, who's nervous about asking you to be his partner for life. he fiddles with the ring box in his pocket, lost in thought about asking you to marry him. he looks your across the table at the restaurant he reserved for the two of you, loving the way your eyes glitter when he finally kneels and gives you the most heart felt speech, loving how you throw yourself at him, nodding your yes into the crook of his neck.

suguru, who is as invested as you are in creating a picture perfect wedding, one that encapsulates what you both want in the ceremony. he loves planning, and you love savoring the early morning look of suguru, with his black rectangular reading glasses, and his hair pulled into a low bun, bringing his coffee to his lips as he glances over the list of music for the DJ to play.

kento, who takes you on a 2 week honeymoon to malaysia after the wedding, choosing to skip his mission to shibuya, valuing the little time he gets with you. he loves wants nothing more than to kick off married life other than to spend the most relaxing days at the beach, glad he doesn't have to deal with the overtime found in his line of work.

hiromi, who wants a more quiet reception, filled with very close friends and a handful of important family members. he's not one for flashy weddings, loving the intimacy of knowing who's at the wedding, loving your attire as you talk with your family members, not minding the slight teasing he was barely listening to as he watched your merry glow, feeling like he was going slightly dumb when you caught his eye and flashed a smile his way.

toji, who is much more of a spontaneous spirit when he proposes, opting to ask you when he looks at you helping megumi, and realizes how deeply in love with you he is. his heart is warm, seeing you double take, wondering if you heard him correctly, and seeing how megumi looked hopeful you'd say yes. (he loved how seemlessly you blend into his family life.)

shiu, who dotes on you anytime you're stressed about the wedding planning, offering to take you on some drives to help reduce your stress. it's these moments before the wedding that shiu revels in, the quietness in the early dawn or late dusk, the small talk you would both make, from talking about memories all the way to what you both want in your future.

choso, who tears up when he sees you walk down the aisle, overjoyed to finally have found his one. he wants to commit to memory the way you walk down the aisle, blurry vision be damned, loving how ethereal you manage to look in your dream wedding attire, and he's excited to venture forth into a stable future with you.

shoko, who chain smokes the night before the wedding, worried about the future and worried about being good enough to be with you. it's why she's glad that you go out to smoke with her, both of you talking your worries into the night sky, letting the dawn of your wedding break over the horizon as you both feel lighter, ready to commit to one another.