#also I can smell that the curtains in my room need to be moved away from the heather so im gonna go do that

[strawberry-seal77]

do me do me

TOO MUCH PRESSURE

[p0orbaby]

I’d Rather Go Blind Than Let You Down

summary: the baby is here, that should calm leah down, right? right?

warnings: hospital setting

a/n: someone asked for some more panicky leah so here it is. first part here but you don’t need to read it if you don’t want to

word count: 1.3k

-

It’s a boy. A boy. Your boy. You can hardly wrap your head around it, the reality of him. He’s only been in the world for forty minutes, and already it feels like he’s upended every law of physics. Six pounds and change, but impossibly heavy in the way he roots you to the earth, demanding you stay present, stay still, stay here. His hair is a downy mess of dark brown fluff, sticking up in little uneven tufts that remind you of how Leah’s fringe used to look after her under-12s matches: matted and wild, all effort and energy. His hands—God, his hands—are the size of fifty-pence pieces, delicate and wrinkled, each finger curled tightly into its own little fist. He’s perfect. Absolutely, inexplicably perfect. And you’re completely terrified.

The hospital room smells like cheap soap and distant disinfectant, undercut by the faint, sticky sweetness of some long-spilled juice no one bothered to properly clean. It’s a symphony of beige: beige walls, beige curtains, beige linoleum. Even the bed looks beige, although it’s probably just worn white, like an old t-shirt washed too many times. Somewhere in the hallway, someone’s shoes squeak with rhythmic persistence, and you vaguely wonder if they’re pacing, as you had earlier, wearing an accidental track into the polished floor.

Leah is sitting in the uncomfortable armchair by the bed, which is upholstered in that scratchy material designed to withstand decades of spills and bad decisions. Her elbows rest on her knees, her fingers steepled against her lips in a half-prayer, half-facepalm, as if she’s mid-negotiation with some higher power. She hasn’t spoken much since the baby was born. Not because she doesn’t want to, you think, but because the enormity of it all has rendered her mute. She looks pale, unsteady, as if someone has shaken her up like a bottle of fizzy water and forgotten to twist the cap back on properly.

The baby makes a soft, snuffling noise against your chest, pulling her attention like a magnet. Her gaze darts to him and then flicks away just as quickly, as if looking directly at him for too long might somehow blind her. She hasn’t held him yet. She hasn’t even really touched him, save for one trembling fingertip brushed against his impossibly tiny foot when the midwife first handed him to you. It wasn’t avoidance, not exactly. More like reverence. Or fear. Maybe both.

You’re exhausted in a way that doesn’t feel real, like your body’s moving on autopilot while your brain drifts somewhere between sleep and shock. Your limbs are heavy, molten, but there’s also an odd lightness to you, a weightless, dizzying awe at what you’ve just done. You gave birth. You. You. Somehow, you survived it—hours of pain, pushing, panting, the raw animalistic chaos of it—and now you’re here, holding this impossibly small, impossibly fragile life in your arms. You’re not sure how you’re even still upright, let alone conscious.

“Do you want to hold him?” you ask, your voice soft, careful, as if you’re coaxing a wild animal out of the brush.

Leah’s head snaps up, her eyes wide and glassy, like a deer caught in headlights. “Hold him?” she echoes, her voice shaky and high-pitched. “Me?

“Yes, you. Who else?”

She blinks, her hands flexing and unflexing against her knees like they’re warming up for a solo on Britain’s Got Talent. “I… I don’t know if that’s a good idea”

“Leah, he’s your son”

“I know,” she says quickly, her voice climbing into that higher, defensive register that comes out when she’s trying to convince herself more than you. “I know he’s my son. But he’s just so… small. And… fragile. What if I—”

“You’re not going to drop him”

“I might!” she says, alarmed by her own hypothetical. “I might drop him. Or…or hold him wrong. What if I hold him wrong and, like, dislocate something? Babies are delicate! Like…like soufflés”

You blink at her. “Did you just compare our child to a soufflé?”

She shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know! I’m just saying, I’m not exactly… maternal, am I? I’m not one of those people who looks at a baby and just… knows what to do. I’m more of a… ‘panic and Google it’ kind of person”

“That’s fine,” you say, adjusting the baby slightly in your arms as he makes a soft, snuffling noise. “Most parents are ‘panic and Google it’ people. It’s basically the default”

Leah doesn’t look convinced. She’s rubbing her hands together now, the way she does before a big match, but this isn’t a match. There’s no referee, no whistle, no rules, no second leg if she screws this up. Her gaze darts back to the baby, then to you, then back to the baby, like she’s trying to memorise the mechanics of holding him without actually doing it.

“What if I’m terrible at this?” she blurts out suddenly, the words spilling out of her in a rush. “What if I’m a terrible mum and he grows up hating me and we end up one of those families where no one talks and we all just sit around at Christmas in complete silence, eating dry turkey and resenting each other?”

You stare at her. “That’s… a very specific fear”

She shrugs, her leg bouncing up and down anxiously. “I’ve seen it happen”

“Leah, you’re not going to be a terrible mum”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you. And you love him. That’s pretty much the most important part”

She frowns, her brow furrowed like she’s still not quite buying it. “Love’s not enough. Love doesn’t teach you how to… to… change nappies or… or know what all the different cries mean”

“Love doesn’t teach you that,” you agree, “but practice does. And you’ll get there. We both will”

Leah’s eyes flick back to the baby, who has now fallen into a soft, twitchy sleep against your chest. Her expression softens slightly, but the fear is still there, a tightness around her mouth, a tension in her shoulders.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” she asks quietly.

You laugh, soft and disbelieving. “He’s a newborn, Leah. His likes and dislikes are limited to ‘milk’ and ‘not-milk.’ He’s not going to sit there judging your personality”

She doesn’t laugh. If anything, she looks even more stricken, like she’s just realised she might have to win over this tiny person who doesn’t even have fully developed motor skills yet.

You sigh, reaching out to take her hand. “Leah, listen to me. You’re not going to drop him. You’re not going to dislocate anything. And you’re definitely not going to ruin Christmas twenty years from now. You’re going to be great. I promise”

She hesitates, her fingers curling slightly around yours. “What if I mess up?”

“You will,” you say simply. “We both will. That’s part of it. But messing up doesn’t mean failing. It just means you’re trying”

For a moment, she just looks at you, her eyes searching yours for something—reassurance, absolution, a manual for parenthood that doesn’t exist. Then, slowly, she nods. It’s not a confident nod, not by any stretch, but it’s a start.

“Okay,” she says quietly. “I’ll try.”

You smile, holding out the baby toward her. “Then take him”

She hesitates for one last second before leaning forward, her hands trembling slightly as she takes the baby from you. She holds him like he’s made of glass, her arms stiff and awkward, but she’s holding him. She’s doing it.

And then the baby lets out a tiny, contented sigh, and Leah freezes, staring down at him like she’s just witnessed a miracle.

“He…he’s so… little,” she whispers, her voice filled with something like awe. “And warm. Why’s he so warm?”

“Because he’s a baby, not a lizard”

Leah lets out a soft, breathless laugh, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face. For the first time all night, she looks calm. Not completely, but enough. Enough to believe, maybe just for a moment, that she can do this.

That you can do this. Together.

[spngi]

My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader

Prologue | part 1 | part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 |part 5| part 6

Part 7

summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings

warnings:Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst.

I watch the man lying on my bed, Carlos is in the same position as the night before, breathing high and I can smell the alcohol of perspiration infesting the room. I open the curtains and windows and let the sun enter along with the breeze to clean the smell of the room.

The man doesn’t move, still too drunk to wake up and I know that an infernal hangover awaits him.

“Wake up” I pinch the skin of his shoulder and he just murmurs leaving me with no patience. “The phone doesn’t stop ringing and if I have to solve any other problem with ports and tax I’ll throw the phone at you, carlos”

He just grunts, opens his eyes slowly and regrets it immediately.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, hoarse voice.

“Good morning” I approach him and extend the cup of coffee with the medicines for him.

“What’s going on?” I watch him scratch his eyes and face me, his eyes stopping when he sees the green nightgown I’m wearing.

It was good to provoke Carlos, even more after everything he told me yesterday, it was good to leave him desperate the same way he left me. The green piece was just a good detail to add to Carlos’ punishment.

“That idiot from the Port of Brussels does not stop calling, I have already solved the situation but it seems that he is too incompetent or just can’t stand to receive orders from a woman” I murmur to Carlos “me and Charles are solving this, but your accountant is also calling to talk about taxes, and we have to leave in a few hours for your cousin’s wedding preparations.”

“I can just...” he breathes, closes his eyes. It’s a lot of information for his head exploding and I could even laugh if I was in the mood. “Lay down for a while? Lie down with me, let’s forget all these calls”

This time I can’t help laughing, Carlos’ words funny enough for my state of mind. As if nothing had happened, as if that was his way of fixing things.

“Get up, Carlos! We still have to pack our bags” I murmur to him, leaving towards the closet.

“You look beautiful in green” his voice resonates groggy around the room.

“I know”

...

It’s strange to share the joy of creating a bond from a new family when mine was falling around. Although I still didn’t know exactly what to do, and the presence of carlos behind me wherever I went like a shadow left me stunned, the word divorce kept returning to my mind.

Maybe it was time for me to give up after all.

The excitement of being with the sainz family, the effort I had in buying the best wedding gift that this couple could receive, the joy in the eyes of the bride for knowing that she would soon carry the surname sainz as well. None of this was able to cheer me up, and I felt like an intruder taking off the luck of the couple.

I had once read in a Lima Barreto book the following phrase “we did not understand each other, their joys were not mine, my pains were not even perceived” and I never felt so represented.

Carlos seems to want to surround me, fill me with his attention, with his affection but that only makes me more uncomfortable, because I know that morning he didn’t choose me when he received that phone call, didn’t even think of me twice or doubted that I had done that. I think I could only really get over it by hearing him apologize, real apologies as an adult man and not that drunk show he gave the other night.

The shared hotel room becomes small enough for me, suffocating with the presence of Carlos. And the game of teasing each other ends up becoming a fierce trap.

I regret having started this game the moment I realized that I couldn’t get away from Carlos here, miles away from our house sharing a normal size hotel room. So every time I showed up before getting dressed or just in a towel after the shower I needed to hear him begging so that he could have me or just touch me, and for most of the nights I need to sleep frustrated with all the words and promises that I don’t let Carlos fulfill.

It is on the night of the rehearsal dinner, the day before the morning of the wedding that I let myself be defeated, maybe if I just let things flow I would feel better, I would remember what it was like to have a happy marriage and Carlos has always provided infinite amounts of pleasure.

I wait for Carlos to get out of the shower, sitting on the end of the bed, watching the TV passing an old movie, waiting and hoping that Carlos will continue begging tonight and don’t leave me a desperate mess today.

When he finally appears in only sweatshirt pajama pants and watches me, sitting, wearing only the old Real Madrid t-shirt of Carlos that became my pajamas a long time ago.

“You’re beautiful, I don’t get tired of saying that” he speaks, hoarse voice and body leaning on the door stop. “Please, cariño! Please let me show you how much I appreciate you, that I love you”

His voice comes out desperate and when he calls me cariño I can’t avoid the chill crossing my body. He realizes and takes the opportunity to get closer to me.

“Please” he whispers, kneels in front of me, brown eyes never breaking the contact, his hand is content to hold my ankle and kiss the area there. “Let me just be with you again, prove you, please I’m begging”

“Why did you do this to us?” I ask him, the same foot he holds I use to move his body away from mine.

“Because I couldn’t see you grow up and be like me,” he admits, “And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, I know that words will never fix this but I want you to know that I will do everything for us”

I loosen the strength of my leg against him and let him get closer.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

“Don’t make me regret it” I murmur to him who doesn’t waste time, the big hands pull me by the waist and the mouth joins in mine. He is desperate and anxious after so much time away and provocation.

Carlos’ hands explore the sensitive skin under the t-shirt, the light touch of his fingers making me more anxious for him, pulling the black curls of his soft hair in the form of retribution. He takes the T-shirt off my body in a single movement when he separates the kiss, his hot mouth going down kisses around my neck, lap and letting himself play with my nipples, his teeth rubbing on the sensitive skin, he is still kneeling between my body, his hands holding my waist keeping me still with his grip, delivered to him.

“Carlos” I call his name, lust flowing from my voice.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of you” he murmurs, his mouth slipping through my body, one of his fingers caressing the already wet fabric of my panties and I hear him moan along with me when he realize that I’m already like this at his slightest touch.

I kiss him again, my hands firm on Carlos’ back probably leaving nail marks, he bites my lip and I moan, my panties going to the ground in a quick gesture coming from him, his right hand playing with the proximity of where I want him the most.

He separates the kiss, arrogant smile on his face before bending down to where I need him the most, leaving small kisses on the sensitive skin of my thigh and getting even closer, and when he arrives in my pussy I let myself lay my body on the bed, my breathing already heavy with the slightest touch. Carlos’ mouth explores my intimacy, my feet resting on his shoulders, one of his hands squeezing my chest while the other focused on provoking my entrance with his fingers, his tongue leaving me a mess crying out for him and after all this time I didn’t know if I was still prepared for all the pleasure that carlos could provide.

He devours me like a hungry man, making me squirm in the hotel bed, my hand trying to cover my mouth to stifle the unnecessary amount of moans coming out of it. Although Carlos had a provocative nature, today he had no patience for this, he wanted to catch up on lost time, leaving my high getting bigger and bigger, and the closer I get the more I move.

“I need you to stand still, mi reina” he murmurs, his head tilted up slightly, his mouth swollen, his thumb making slow and torturous circles on my clitoris. And all this vision makes me moan even more his name, he laughs and uses both hands to hold me against the bed, the strong squeeze in my ass. He continues his exploited, knowing that I wouldn’t last much longer that way, the way I pull more and more of his curls leaving him alert of how close I am.

He continues with slower movements even after realizing that I finally came, my head is in an eternal wheezing due to the pleasure I felt and when I open my eyes I slowly observe Carlos, now standing on the end of the bed watching the work he did, he licks his lip and then his fingers and only this action makes me squirm in bed.

“God how I missed you” he murmurs still standing.

“It was you who put yourself in this position” admirably I still have the strength to answer.

“I know, and I regret it every day” he puts one of his knees on the bed and leans over to my body, his hand caresses my disheveled hair “I will never be able to be grateful enough that you insisted on me”

I know that his words are true, I see in the back of his eyes the emotion this time, it is exciting at least to know that he is opening up to me again, to know that I can read his eyes as before and not the icy astonishment he stared at me in recent months. But, again, the memory of knowing that I didn’t put myself in this situation, that I wasn’t my husband’s first choice makes me nauseous. Then I pull him again for a kiss, more delicate this time, without all urgency and hurry, just showing each other’s devotion.

Not even after the four hallucinating orgasms and the most intense fuck I’ve ever had in one night, and after sleeping like a little angel, full of endorphins and in Carlos’ warm arms I wouldn’t be prepared for what would come next. Even after the morning sex, intimate and slow, full of caresses and whispers, declarations of love spread everywhere. I still wasn’t prepared for the weeding day.

I didn’t know I wasn’t prepared for the wedding ceremony, I didn’t know I would feel terrible at every step.

When I joined the bride for the preparations, and I looked at her, wondering if maybe the future that awaited her would be like mine, I wonder if I forgot some tradition during the wedding for it to have lasted so little, Carlos had never seen the wedding dress I wore, I wore a veil, I had a wreath on my head, I had my new piece, an old one borrowed and I had the blue too, I did all the right things and I still envy the innocence of the future Mrs. Saiz in front of me.

I laugh when they comment on how lucky I am, and how the men of the sainz family have the motto of being gentlemen and romantic and I imagine that mine certainly came with a factory problem.

The worst part is the ceremony, and my tears that I can no longer hold mix with those of the other guests who cry with emotion. I watch Carlos on the other side of the altar, next to the other godparents of the wedding, he smiles at me. He doesn’t understand the real reason I’m crying, his eyes seem nostalgic and maybe he’s remembering the day we got married, how he cried when he saw me at the altar, how my dress made me absolutely angelic as he repeated so many times on that special day, how we couldn’t help but smile with the realization that we were finally married.

My heart breaks with every word prophesied by the priest, with every vow I hear the bride and groom speak, with every good memory I had and was destroyed.

“I carlos oñoro sainz, receive you, Maria, as my legitimate wife. I promise to be faithful, love you and respect you. In joy and sadness, in health and disease, in wealth and poverty, for all the days of our lives. So receives this alliance as a sign of my love and my fidelity” the groom recites the vows, the most sacred laws of a marriage and I can only think of how they were all broken.

In how there was no fidelity, support and unity, in how Carlos and I managed to ruin everything, to break something so sacred.

I feel suffocated in the pink dress that matches that of the other bridesmaids, I clean the controlled tears that run down my face before I become a mess.

And it didn’t matter the way Carlos held my hand during the reception, or how he danced romantic songs with me and made slow and passionate love to me at the end of the night, I was already decided when I left that church.

I just didn’t imagine that it would be at a wedding that I would decide to end mine.

We are coming to an end 😭

I don’t know you were waiting for this or what your bets for how things will end but let me know, I love receiving your opinions and I can’t post nos because it may contain spoiler lol 😂

Thank you all ❤️❤️❤️

[peachsayshi]

(going crazy about Choso watching you in the shower don't mind me.....)

It was the smell of your soap that Choso noticed first. Wafting into the hotel room with that undeniable moisture- the bathroom door must be open.

Open? You'd never made that mistake before. He glanced at the mirror across the bathroom door and saw the cracked door and light filtering through. It was open. The bathroom door was in fact open, and the only thing separating him from your naked form was a thin shower curtain.

Before he knew it, he was standing by that door, peering in. Your silhouette moved and his eyes widened, watching you cleanse yourself of the mess of battle. Could you get your back on your own? His mouth was agape as he imagined himself joining you, washing you, dragging his soapy hands all over your incredible body.

He was rock hard. Overwhelmed by the sweet scent of your shampoo. As you picked up your conditioner, he caught a glimpse of your skin through the gap in the curtain and nearly groaned. He needed you. God, how intensely he needed you...

Like the soothing sounds of a siren, you hummed a tune as you lathered your hair with conditioner. He was enraptured. Nothing could tear him away from this. From you. He softly palmed the tent in his pants, wondering if you left that door open on purpose. Wondering if you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you...

Wondering if you'd welcome him if he decided to join you.

@nyxronomicon 🖤

{oh, nyx. this is altering my brain. you need to take full accountability for what you are doing to me right now, but I also refuse to walk away without leaving a few more crumbs myself. your ask has me clenching my thighs and biting my lip. I am simply losing it over this man!!! now let's think of this scenario, where the temptation is far too much...}

➳  minors / ageless / blank blogs dni   ➳  tags: cw breeding; lchoso in heat; arousal

there's a soft knock on the door that sends a tremor of excitement and apprehension up along your spine. you curl your frame under the shower head, allowing the warmth to veil over your soft, vulnerable body.

"yes?" you call out, your firm tone dwindling through the barrier of raining water droplets.

"did you mean to leave the door open?" choso bluntly asks, making your lungs collapse from the tension in his deep voice.

what are you supposed to say? you think in a moment of panic, that you did mean to leave it open because you wanted to test him?

a lump forms in your throat. you were coaxing someone who barely had the capacity to understand the deep intensity of his human emotions just to play a game of a rabbit toying with a wolf.

instead, you simply swallow your guilt and innocently reply, "yeah, I wanted to let out some of the steam..."

the silence lingers for only a few seconds but the heaviness resides in the short distance of space separating you both.

you hear him clear his throat from behind the door.

"would it be alright if I used the sink to wash up then?"

your heart rumbles, shuddering with enticing uncertainty.

"yes, you can come in."

from behind the curtain you hear his footsteps, a slow approach to the bathroom sink. you're suddenly hyper aware of your naked state, of every drop trickling down your delicate curves, of your nipples pebbling hard from the slight draft that followed choso, and of the throbbing pulse between your legs.

you exhale quietly as he turns on the faucet, wondering what to do next. from between the curtain you study him, his hair down and haloing around his handsome face. his cheeks are slightly red, and he cups the water in his hand as he splashes it across his face.

your hand mindlessly turns off the faucet to your shower.

you avert your gaze just as choso turns to meet yours through the small sliver of space.

"do you mind passing me a towel?"

there's another pause before the sound of choso rummaging through the drawers interrupts the quiet. he approaches you, the shadow of his strong, broad frame prominent from behind the curtain. you don't know why the thrill of it makes you ache, or why you insist on tempting him further when you know that the it truly isn't a fair game.

you curl your fingers around the curtain and peek your head through, your thighs clenching at the expression on choso's face.

there's an unrecognizable hunger in that gaze, a hardness resting along his sharp jaw that's contrasted by the blush in his cheeks. the front of his brows are pinched slightly together, and you can see the veins in his hands pop as he grips the terry cloth fabric between his fingers.

you reach for the towel, noticing his eyes falling to your glistening bare skin, and focusing on the slope of where your shoulder and neck meet.

"thank you, cho." you gratefully reply, as you pluck the towel from between his hands.

when you dip back behind the curtain you swear you hear him sigh with exasperation. you wrap the towel carefully around your body, the length barely covering you up in any decent manner.

choso is still in the bathroom when you step out of the shower, his head now under the sink faucet as he allows the water to run through his raven hair. he slicks back the strands with his fingers, and exhales once again.

"you're free to use the shower now," you calmly state.

he leans back, his hands gripping the counter behind him, but his eyes are fixated on you.

"great," he murmurs through gritted teeth, focusing to keep his attention on your face and nowhere else. "I'll jump right in"

you nod your head, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you try to scurry away but you suddenly freeze when choso sidesteps in front of you and blocks your path.

you're so much closer now. close enough to take in the hard muscles of his torso. close enough to burn with shame from toying with him in this way.

you seize up in panic when draws his hand to your neck, sealing the gap of space as he stands in front of you chest to chest. the tender caress ignites everything within you, and you sink your teeth deeper into your bottom lip as a shivering vibration runs up along your neck. choso has his hand to your throat, his thumb stroking up the column to the space right underneath your ear.

your eyes fall to his pecs, the rise and fall pulling you away from the stillness of the moment.

choso drops his hand to your line of sight, showing off his thumb covered in bubbling suds.

"you missed a spot"

he wipes it off against his pants, as your hand absentmindedly reaches for the place where he touched you. the pads of your fingers lightly dragging over the exposed skin.

you glance up at choso from underneath your eyelashes, "oh, I did..." is all you can say.

your arousal sticks to your inner thighs, making you adjust your stance, but that is when choso directly drops his gaze to your crotch without any hesitation, his expression a battle of desire and concentration.

his breathing slows, and your eyes widen as the heat rushes straight to your cheeks.

why does it feel like he can see right through the material?

like he knows that you’re wet right now.

“I should leave you to it then,” you foggily announce, taking a tiny step back.

��hmm,” choso purrs, his dark eyes gaping at your concealed cunt.

you casually dart around him, stepping out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind you.

every nerve in your body quivering with anticipation.

[buckyalpine]

Ex!Bucky fluff

I’m about to break hearts rn but I’ll mend it with a mini life saver. I promise. I was in a silly goofy mood for angst but I can't just leave the ending like that.

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regulate his breathing while practicing the grounding methods you had taught him, your soft voice guiding him through his panic attack.

"Tell me what you see around you"

"I-I see the curtains, the coffee table, the bookshelf- uh- the couch" You nodded, encouraging him to continue while his glassy eyes flicked around the living room. He looked at all the things you had hand picked for the space when you moved in together; the empty box he used as a shelter finally became a home after he met you.

"How about something you can smell"

"I-I can smell the laundry detergent on the blanket" It was Bucky's favorite scent because it smelled like lavender and lavender smelled like home. Home was you.

"What else my love" You cooed, "What can you touch"

"The pillow- it feels soft" Bucky's fingers dug into the sofa as he stayed frozen in place but he knew how soft the couch cushions were. After all you had picked them because you were obsessed with how plush they were.

"What is something that's real"

“You’re here with me”

"Oh, Jamie"

"You're always here" Bucky's voice cracked with emotion, the tears he had been holding in falling down his cheeks and staining his Henley.

You smiled sadly, shaking your head.

"I'm not, baby" Your voice was a gentle whisper, wishing you could reach out to cup his scruffy cheek, wiping the steady stream of tears that continued to pour down his face "But I wish I was"

-

Now I had planned on stopping here, insinuating reader had died. however if you don't stand for that, you may continue to read below.

-

Bucky couldn't take it.

6 months.

6 months he'd gone without you, hoping one day it would get easier but the day never came. He hoped the guilt of breaking your heart would balance with the fact that you'd be safer without him but not having you by his side was worse than any kind of torture he'd endured. He didn't think he was worthy of your love but now here he was, craving it more than ever.

He thought his love for you would make him selfless enough to carry on alone just to keep you out of harms way but his walls were crumbling further each day.

He needed you so bad.

He wanted to be selfish.

For his luck, you hadn't gone far. He'd made sure to keep tabs on you long after you left, anxiety eating him alive on days where you did something differently from your routine. Even if you were not together, he'd make sure you were protected.

****

You put away your groceries for the week, shuffling around the tiny apartment you'd moved back into 6 months ago, going through the motions as if your heart hadn't been split into two. No amount of convincing allowed him to believe he deserved you. You shook away that train of thought, a gentle knock at the door breaking you away from the small kitchenette.

You hesitated, debating on reaching for the knife you had hidden under the cupboard, something Bucky had taught you when he insisted on also teaching you self defense. The gentle knocking continued as you unlocked the handle without undoing the chain, gasping when you opened the door.

There he was.

The man you still cried over each night.

The man who still owned your entire heart.

The man who you adored with your entire being to the end of the earth and back. You shakily undid the chain, letting him inside, still too shocked to say anything.

"M'sorry" His voice came out a broken whisper, bottom lip already trembling seeing you wrapped up in a hoodie he thought had lost. "I'm sorry darling"

You didn't realize you'd broken down into tears until you felt him wrap you up, hugging you tightly to his chest, his own emotions overwhelming him.

"Please don't cry" Bucky wept into your hair as he clung onto you, rocking you in his strong arms, "Please baby, not over me, don't cry angel"

"I-I-al-already-c-cried-so-much" You choked and hiccupped between sobs, clinging onto Bucky harder as if he'd disappear into thin air the same way he did each night when you woke up from your dreams. The bed would feel cold and empty, the room too quiet and your heart all alone. "I'll-cr-y-if-I-w-want-t-to"

You let out a shaky huff, your brows knitted together into a pouty frown, trying hard to be angry with him, angry at the fact that he didn't allow you to love him the way he deserved, angry that he pushed you away instead of trying to workout a different solution. Bucky couldn't help but let out a wet chuckle between sniffles, giving you a soft squeeze and tilting your face up to peck your bottom lip which had been jutting out.

"I never want you to cry again love, I'll never make that mistake again" He swore, looking deeply into your eyes, cradling your head against where his heart was hammering against his chest. "Never again sweetheart, I'm so sorry I pushed you away baby, I can't do this without you, I love you so much"

You whimpered at his words, allowing him to lift you up, your legs moving on their own to wrap around his waist, burying your face into the crook of his neck. Bucky carried you all the way back and straight to the bedroom. He wanted nothing more than to hold and cuddle you, craving more with each passing minute until he was as close as he could possibly be. He stayed inside you, smiling against your sweat slicked skin, not bothering to pull out once the entire night.

"I'm finally home" He whispered against your skin, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks while you looked at him quizzically, giggling at his lips continues to dance across your lips, "It's not home without you"

[glassartpeasants]

How to Love .03

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst

A/N: Sorry that it's shorter then normal but i can not tell you how hard i had to grind to get this shit out.

music playlist

~~~

“Law? You alive?” Soft fingers could be felt gently skimming against Law’s forehead, making him lean into their warmth before his eyes snapped open.

Jumping up, Law looks around his room before seeing you kneeling down beside his bed. His heart slowly calms before finally finding the words to speak. “(Y/N)? What are you doing in my room?”

“Well, good evening to you, too.” Rubbing his eyes, Law looks at you with a confused look.

“What? Evening?” Turning to his alarm clock, he sees it’s 8 am.

“We had a power outage due to an unexpected storm last night. I thought you might have already fixed your clock, but I was wrong.” Law jumps out of his bed and opens his curtains to see a beautiful sunset staring back at him.

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?! What time is it?!”

“It’s currently 6 pm. Also, I thought you were actually trying to catch up on sleep.” Standing up, Law looks at (Y/N) in bewilderment before pacing around.

“I have stuff I need to do! Shit, I need to pay bills.”

“Done.”

Stopping in his tracks, Law stares at you. “What?”

“I said done. I paid them.”

“I also made a sheet with finances on everything I know we’ve spent at least together in the last month. I didn’t go through your mail. Went grocery shopping and cleaned the entire house. I did save some financing things so we can go through them together.”

“I-”

“I did everything.” A silence covers Law and you as you both look at each other.

“Why?”

“You always work so hard! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep in once since I’ve known you! For a doctor, you think you’d take care of yourself more.” Law watches as you cross your arms.

“I…Thank you.” Law says in almost a whisper. “But never let me sleep in again.”

“But you look so refreshed! Even if you got wild bedhead.” You tease. Law grumbles before trying to flatten his hair, only for it to bounce back. You can’t help but giggle.

“Maybe if you take a shower, it’ll fix it.”

“Alright. Now get out.” You can feel Law push you out of his room before closing the door.

“What? No ‘Thank you for waking me up (Y/N)?’” You say sarcastically.

“I would have said that if it wasn’t 6 pm!” His voice rang from behind the door.

“So ungrateful!” You chuckle before walking away towards the kitchen. The smell of dinner is too much to resist.

As soon as Law heard you walk away, a loud crash and curse left your lips.

“Fuck! Bepo, no!” Law quickly put on a decent shirt before running out to the dining room. His jaw dropped as he watched you holding Bepo, who had a whole grilled fish in his mouth.

“Spit it out! How dare you eat my fish, you asshole! I thought we were cool!” Law was speechless, so he watched his cat and roommate fighting over fish.

Turning your head, you saw Law just standing there. “Law! Help me! Little shit has my food!” You get a good grab on the fish, and just as you think you’ve gotten it, Bepo takes another bite.

Law can’t help but stiffle a laugh as he watches you fight with Bepo. When you finally lost grip of the fish, Bepo made a break for it, which led you to begin chase.

“Damnit, cat! Give it to me!” Law hears you yell from down the hall. Chuckling, Law moved to what used to be the dinner you made. Paw prints everywhere as well as nibble marks from Bepo’s teeth. White cat hair covering every inch of food.

“He’s never jumped on the table and ate our food before. What’s gotten into him?” 

He could hear you stomping and cursing your way back to the kitchen, telling him that you were unsuccessful in your mission. When you entered the kitchen, you stood beside him and looked at the mess Bepo had reduced dinner to.

“Looks like he ate good tonight.” Law chuckled, trying to lighten up your now-soured mood.

“He probably just gained all the weight we’ve worked so hard for him to lose! Why would he do this? He’s never done this before!” You whine. With a frown, you begin to clean up the ruined dinner.

“This fucking sucks. I spent so long on this dinner for you, and he came along and ate it!” Law’s eyes widen upon hearing your words.

“You made it for me?” Law watches you stiffen before going back to normal posture.

“Yeah, I did. I wanted you to have a stress-free day, but Bepo decided to be an asshole and destroy dinner!” You sigh as you throw away the destroyed food before putting the dishes in the sink to wash.

“I don’t wanna order takeout 'cause I know you don’t like fast food. I just…” You sigh as you try to figure out what to do.

“Takeout is not that bad. We can order something and watch TV…together?”

Feeling your heartbeat pick up its pace, you gulp before answering. “You sure? I don’t wanna force you to eat food you don’t like just to cheer me up.”

“I’m sure we can find something. I think Olive Garden delivers?”

“Olive Garden, huh? Never took you for a pasta fan.” You joke, trying to lighten up the mood.

“I’m a sucker for restaurants who put actual effort into making their food.”

You laugh. “And our old classmates said you weren’t funny.”

“What? Who the hell said that?” Law’s offended tone made you smile.

“Doesn’t matter. You're a doctor making big bucks and saving lives while they're cleaning Mcdonald's bathrooms for quick cash.” Law couldn’t help but feel a slight smile tug at his lips from your words.

A laugh escapes Law’s throat. “I guess if you think so, that’s all that matters.” Law pauses as soon as he realizes what he’s said. Yet he doesn’t see how his words bring a smile to your face.

~~~

You can’t help the smile that sticks to your face as you work endlessly to fulfill customers' orders. Your mind is running with the thought of Law and his smile.

“What’s got you all smiley?” Killer asks you as he cleans the counter.

“What? Am I not allowed to smile?”

“You are, but that’s not a regular smile you got on your face there.” His words make you stop in your tracks as you snap your head in his direction.

“You have someone on your mind, don’t you?” You can practically hear the smirk behind his mask.

“You don’t know what the hell you're talking about, Killer.”

“I bet it’s Law, huh? Doesn’t shock me. You’ve been his roommate for about five months and went through a breakup together.” You hit Killer in the arm.

“Shut up! What if someone hears you!” You whisper with a burning face.

“Afraid he’s gonna show up and hear me saying the truth?”

“Killer, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to murder you.” Killer only laughs as he looks at you.

“Yeah, okay (Y/N). Whatever you say.” You huff as you look down at the clean coffee machine in front of you. Killer’s words bouncing in your skull. You didn’t want to admit it, but maybe Killer was right. Perhaps you were falling in love with him again.

“I did have a thing for him in college. Before dating Eustass. I ended up falling for him during our time together working on that project.” Killer stops cleaning as he looks at you. Silent but wanting to hear your words.

“I don’t know what it was about him, but by the end of the project we were grouped together for, I had ended up falling for him. Hard. It took me a lot of convincing, but I thought that maybe he liked me too.”

“Did he?”

You stay silent before answering. “ I guess not because my best friend asked him out, and he said yes.” A deep pang shot through your heart as you remembered.

“She had told me afterward that she liked him since we started college but never told me until I talked to her about asking someone out. I didn’t say Law’s name, but he was the one I was talking about.” Sighing, you grip the counter.

“Her telling me she’s liked him since we started college broke me. How could I try dating the man I liked for a whole semester while my friends liked him from the beginning? It broke my heart to hear him agree to be her boyfriend. Having her bring him around was like torture the first few months.”

“While I, of course, never acted out of place with Law while he was with (.....), I only managed to get over him when I heard him say ‘I love you’ to her. That was when I knew I had lost. After a few months after that at graduation, I begin to date Eustass. After that, we slowly stopped talking and only saw each other when it was with (.....). Until five months ago.”

“When you caught Eustass and (.....)?”

“Yeah…When I caught them.” Your heart burns at the memory, but not as bad as it had been before. What used to be a stab in the heart now felt like a bee sting.

“How am I supposed to tell him that I’ve fallen for him again? What if he doesn’t feel the same? How am I supposed to live with him? Not to mention, ruin a friendship.”

“I suppose that does complicate things.”

“I don’t understand. How come this has to happen? It’s like the universe is doing this to fuck with me. Shoving something in my face that I want something I can’t have.” Killer stays quiet as he listens to you speak.

“It’s easier just to shove them down before you end up hurt.”

~~~

“Is that a smile on our grumpy doctor's face? What’s got you all happy?” the charge nurse teased Law.

“Your the second person to tell me that, and it’s annoying me.” The nurse chuckled.

“Oh, please, Law. Everyone can see you’ve got something on your mind, or is it…someone?” The nurse watches as Law tenses, and his cheeks dust pink.

The nurse squeals. “It is!” She claps her hands in excitement. "You have to tell me! I promise I won’t tell anyone!”

“No! I’m not telling you anything!” Law whisper yells.

“Aw, why not? I could give you advice!”

“I’m not telling you about my personal life! So stop asking!”

Huffing, the nurse gave up. “Fine! But here, there is a 3rd-degree burn case in room eight. Says a new co-worker turned up the coffee machine too high, and when it accidentally spilled on her hand, it scalded her.” Law snatches the clipboard and narrows his eyes at the nurse before making his way to room eight.

Opening the door, he expected anyone but the person before him. “(Y/N)?!”

“Hi, Law,” you chuckle nervously. “I didn’t know you worked in the ER.” Law can hear the nervousness in your voice. His eyes scan your body before seeing your bandaged hand. He carefully grabs your hand and looks at it.

“How did this happen?”

“A relatively new co-worker put the coffee temperature too high, so when I went to pour it and accidentally spilled some on me, it got all over my hand and burned it. I didn’t think it was that serious initially, but Killer made me come in. And now it turns out I have a third-degree burn.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. Not really.”

“Well, you're an idiot for not coming in sooner.”

“It didn’t hurt other than the initial pain of being burnt!”

“That’s cause it burnt away your nerves!” Your shocked expression told him all he needed to know. Law sighs as he examines your burn. 

“It’s definitely a 3rd-degree burn; you're gonna have to keep it bandaged and change it at least once daily. It’s not big enough to need surgery, but it’s still gonna scar. Drink a lot of fluids. I’m prescribing you an antibiotic to prevent infection.”

“Alright. Good thing I live with you. You can help me with it all.” You say with a smirk, causing him to roll his eyes but with a smile. 

“But forgetting about me, how’s your day going? Did you drink your fluids?”

“I’m the doctor, and you're the patient. Don’t try that with me.” Law chuckles.

“You seem to be popular with the ladies' Law. A lot of nurses are looking at you from outside the room.” Law’s head snaps to the doorway to see a few nurses sticking their heads into the room through the doorway.

“I’ll be back.” You giggle as Law walks away and out the door.

Leaving the room and closing the door, Law turns his head to the nurses. “What are you doing?!” Law whisper yells at them.

“She’s the one that's got you all smiley, isn’t she?!” The nurses squeal.

“No, she isn’t! She’s just my roommate until she finds a place she can afford!” Law tries to defend himself, but the pink that swarms his cheeks tells the nurses everything.

“She is! And you're even roommates with her! That’s perfect! Come on, you have to ask her out on an official date!”

“That’s not happening! God, you people are so nosy!”

“What’s stopping you-”

“I’m not her type, alright?” Law snaps, causing the nurses to hush.

Running a hand through his hair, Law sighs. “I’m not her type, so even if I did like her, she wouldn’t say yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I went to college with her. That’s all your gonna get.” Law runs a hand through his hair.

You rotten his brain and wormed your way into his heart. Somehow, in the semester-long project he did with you all those years ago, he ended up gaining feelings for you. There was just something about you. The way you laughed, your smile, how you always seemed as happy, the list could go on.

He was sure you liked him too. How you looked at him couldn’t be anything other than it, right? You’d scoot closer to him when you both worked on the project—texting him about things other than the project. Bringing him food you had made.

He wanted to, oh, how he desperately wanted to ask you out. So when he got a note on the desk he always sat on had a note that said to meet him at the park, he was so sure it was you. It had your handwriting and everything. It had to be you. And when he saw (.....), your friend instead of you, he was shocked.

She had told him that you had written the note for her cause she was too scared to do it during school hours. She had even joked about a double date with you and a guy you were thinking about asking out. He felt his heart break when he heard it. Did he really jump to conclusions and think you liked him when you could have just been friendly?

All these thoughts ran through his mind that day. He didn’t know why at the time, but he did say yes to (.....) asking him out on a date. Possibly to forget the pain he felt? A distraction? He didn’t know.

But now, those feelings he thought were snuffed out reappeared stronger than ever. He wanted to be with you all the time. All he could think about was you. Even worse than college. His dreams were filled with images of you. He heard your voice when you weren’t there. Almost everything reminded him of you. He could look at a cloud and somehow be reminded of a memory you two shared.

Ever since you moved in as well, his diet has gotten relatively healthier. While he still drank coffee and energy drinks nonstop, you always ensured he ate. Hell, you’ve even started making him lunches to bring to work two months ago when you found out he usually didn’t eat anything during his shift. He couldn’t help but chuckle cause with every lunch came with a terribly drawn Bepo picture on whatever color sticky note you had. Each one he kept in his desk drawer.

“Law! What do you want for dinner?” You yell through the rooms door to Law, causing him to be pulled from his thoughts.

“Just roommates, huh?” One of the nurses asked with a smirk while the others held smug grins. They could easily see through the stoic doctor's facade. 

“Just roommates.” Law glares before entering the room to answer your question.

“I give it another month before he caves.”

“I say two. He seems to be pretty worried about his friendship with her.”

“True, I say three, though. Gotta give him time to boil in his feelings for a little longer.” The nurses converse with each other as they try to sneak peeks at the doctor and the cause of his smile.

~~~

“Law, hurry up! It’s about to start!” You yell to him. The sound of his footsteps rings throughout the apartment, letting you know that he heard you.

“I’m coming. I’m coming. Give me a second.” Chuckling, Law sits down next to you on the couch. 

“I’m so excited! I can’t believe they’re making a Sora: Warrior of the Sea show! You know what that means, right?” You squirm in your seat in excitement. 

Putting his feet up, Law looks at you. “ What does it mean?” He says with a smile.

“That means every Thursday we get to hang out and watch a new episode! Doesn’t that sound awesome?” You can feel your heart beating out of your chest from happiness as you smile brightly at him.

Law looked down at you and felt his heart leap. You were so excited to be near him. Telling him how you couldn’t wait for it to be a common occurrence. Despite him telling himself not to go down this road again. He couldn’t help but imagine how it’d be if you two were an actual thing—feeling your warmth against his cold frame, holding you close. Laying down next to you at night, hearing your soft breaths. Being able to admire your calm features as you sleep. And even feel your lips against his.

Law could see you sitting next to him, so close your thigh touched his. You didn’t seem to notice or care, which made his heart beat in his ears. He couldn’t even pay attention to the show, as he was more focused on you and how close you were to him. There was an itch inside him, telling him to do something. Now would be the perfect time to make a move, even if it was small. So, taking a breath, he took the risk.

Law moves his arm up slowly before laying it behind you on the couch. His heart beats rapidly, as he pretends not to notice he’s done it, giving you quick glances to see if you’ve noticed anything. So far, to him, you haven’t

But you noticed right away.

You were screaming internally with excitement and nervously biting your tongue. Could it mean he liked you too? Was it an accident? Either or made your heart beat against your ribs. Your head spins as you try to act cool and not show how excited you were to have him so close to you.

If he had made a move, then who were you to ignore it? So, with an internal deep breath, you lean back against his arm. His warmth makes a shiver run across your spine. It felt as if your face and body was on fire from his skin touching yours. You curled your toes in your socks as you tried to contain a steady breathing.

You take a swallow the lump in your throat as you decide to take a jump of hope. With a sharp intake of breath, you lean closer into Law, placing your head on his shoulder. His cologne flooding you like a calming aroma. In his arms felt like a dream come true. Laying against his shoulder as his arm laid behind your head. 

Even though the you told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for Law or act on your feelings, sometimes it’s okay to lie. Even if it’s to yourself.

~~~

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[joelmillermylove]

Where we belong Pt.3

Joel Miller x f!reader

“The morning after” 

Summary: It’s the morning after your passionate night with Joel and he still can’t get enough of you. Warning: 18+ smut, passionate fluff, age gap, f!receiving Word count: 1,478 A/N: Guys I’m overwhelmed with joy that you all love my little writings *Blush*. I’m new to writing with smutty themes so I hope I did it justice. Much love!

← Part two

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room as you began to wake. As you wake you can still smell Joel’s Cologne, it’s a mix of citrus and pine, very Manly very sexy and it was your favorite scent. Your body felt deliciously warm, the lingering sensations from the night before still fresh in your mind. You shifted slightly, feeling the familiar weight of Joel’s arm draped over your waist, holding you close.

But as you tried to move, you felt his grip tighten, pulling you back against him. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you realized he was already awake, his breath hot against the back of your neck.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep, but there was a playful edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine.

“I was just going to—” You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before Joel’s lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, cutting off your words with a breathless gasp. He knew exactly what he was doing, and you could feel the smile against your skin as his hands began to roam your body.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice a low growl filled with possessive desire. “Not after last night. Not when I finally have you here with me.”

His hands were everywhere, tracing the curves of your body, making you arch into his touch. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of you, like he was trying to memorize every inch of your body. The intensity of his need was palpable, and it ignited something deep inside you, making your heart race.

You turned in his arms, wanting to see the hunger in his eyes, and when you did, it took your breath away. His gaze was dark, filled with a fiery intensity that made it clear he wasn’t done with you yet. The night before had only been the beginning.

“Joel,” you breathed, but whatever you were going to say was lost as his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was hungry, desperate, a reflection of all the years he had spent denying himself this, denying himself you.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he muttered against your lips, his hands moving to your waist, guiding you, urging you to move against him. “Last night… I thought I’d had enough, but damn, I can’t get enough of you.”

You could feel the truth of his words in the way he touched you, the way he kissed you like he was starved for you. Every touch, every caress was filled with an urgency that spoke of his need, but also his affection.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Then don’t stop.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. In one swift movement, Joel had you beneath him again, his body pressing you into the mattress, his hands pinning your wrists above your head. The dominance in his movements sent a thrill through you, and you could see the smirk on his face as he felt you shudder beneath him.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his lips tracing a path down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “And I’m never letting you go.”

There was no denying the possessiveness in his voice, but it was mixed with something softer, something almost reverent. It wasn’t just about lust; it was about everything he felt for you all these years, everything he hadn’t been able to say.

Joel pulled back slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. “I want to try something,” he said, his voice low and filled with intent.

Your heart raced at the thought, curiosity and anticipation swirling within you. “What do you want to try?”

Instead of answering with words, Joel’s hands began to move, gently urging you to lie back against the pillows. There was a reverence in his touch, a carefulness that told you how much this moment meant to him. He kissed your lips once more, then your jaw, and then his mouth began to travel lower, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

As his kisses moved down your neck and along your collarbone, you felt a shiver of excitement run through you. Joel had always been attentive, but there was something different in the way he was touching you now—like he was savoring every inch of your skin.

When he reached your stomach, his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up as his lips followed, his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle softly. But the laughter quickly faded as you realized where he was heading, a nervous excitement building inside you.

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. “You good?” he asked, his voice rough but laced with concern.

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yeah, I’m good. Really good.”

Joel’s hands settled on your thighs, spreading them gently as he positioned himself between your legs. He took his time, kissing your inner thighs, his breath warm against your skin. Every touch, every kiss was deliberate, like he was learning your body in a new way, memorizing the way you reacted to his touch.

When his lips finally reached your center, you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you. Joel paused, looking up at you with a wicked grin, clearly pleased with your reaction.

“You like that baby?” he murmured, his voice deep and husky.

You could only nod, your breath coming faster as you watched him, the anticipation almost too much to bear. He didn’t make you wait long. With a slow, deliberate movement, Joel’s mouth found you, his tongue exploring you with a careful, tender intensity that made your toes curl.

It was clear he was paying attention to every sound you made, every shift of your hips, adjusting his movements to what made you feel good. The sensations were overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and intimacy that left you trembling beneath him.

As he continued his dark hazel eyes staring deep into yours, his hands gripping your hips to keep you still, your hands in his wavy curls pulling slightly, the pleasure built higher and higher like a wave ready to crash. You couldn’t stop the sounds spilling from your lips, and it only seemed to spur Joel on, his movements becoming more confident, more focused on driving you to the edge.

He kissed his way back up your body, his lips soft and tender against your flushed skin, before finally settling beside you, pulling you into his arms. You could feel the satisfaction radiating off him, but more than that, you could feel the love, the deep affection he had for you.

“You okay?” he asked again, his voice soft, his hand gently stroking your hair.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you looked up at him. “I’m better than okay,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. “You’re amazing.”

Joel grinned, that rare, genuine smile that made your heart flutter. “Good,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Because I plan on doing that again And again.

Joel’s arms tighten around you, holding you close, You can hear his loud booming heartbeat that sounds like home while you lay on his chest. His lips brushing against yours “I love you Darlin,” he whispered with his Southern drawl that gives you butterflies.

You smiled, your fingers interlocked with his as you pressed a kiss to his big broad chest “I love you too, Joel.”

[severinageto]

Just a Wednesday————-ONE SHOT

*

He slowly opened his eyes, feeling well-rested. He watched the sun gradually brighten as it filtered through the curtains in his room. The sounds from outside suggested it was probably around eight or eight-thirty in the morning. On Wednesdays, he didn’t start at the Academy until noon, but Satoru had to be there much earlier. He could hear him in the kitchen using the orange juicer, trying, though not very successfully, to be quiet. Then, the smell of coffee. Gojo didn’t drink it, but he did. He smiled contentedly, thinking that not only had Satoru made breakfast that morning, but he’d also let him sleep in.

What Suguru didn’t know was that Satoru had been up for about three hours. He needed to prepare an exam for the day, something crucial about channeling telluric energy. But level 2,978 of Candy Crush had taken up all his time and energy. How was it possible that this ridiculous game was such a challenge? Confident, the albino thought it would take him maybe three minutes, but he was wrong; he was two and a half hours in when his boyfriend’s alarm went off. He looked at the clock, then at his empty teaching papers, and then at his boyfriend. He watched him sleep for a little while.

Suguru’s breathing was calm, his body barely moving. The morning light was beginning to sneak in, almost shyly, through the curtains, softly illuminating the contours of his wonderful face. Dark strands of hair fell messily over his forehead, framing his relaxed features. Time seemed to stand still in those moments when his mouth exhaled a tiny thread of air. The peace surrounding his boyfriend’s strong jawline was worthy of praise and songs, a peace Satoru rarely saw in Suguru when he was awake. He leaned in a little closer, soaking in every detail, from the curve of his lips to the way his eyelashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks. In those stolen seconds, Satoru allowed himself a rare moment of vulnerability, silently marveling at the simple beauty of having Suguru by his side.

He took a breath and quietly jumped out of bed. Such a work of art deserved, at the very least, breakfast.

Half an hour later, Suguru was covering his naked body with his black silk robe.

“Everyone thinks not, but…” he murmured to himself, “…I hit the jackpot with this guy.”

He sneakily entered the kitchen and wrapped Satoru in a tender hug from behind.

“I thought today was my turn to cook,” Geto whispered in his ear.

Satoru set the toast aside, turned around, and kissed him.

“You’re not off the hook. Instead, you’ll help me with the laundry.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow.

“Are you giving me orders?”

Gojo laughed and playfully bit Suguru’s left cheek.

“Yeah. Only I can give orders to the new Jujutsu Tech director.”

Suguru blushed, partly from the pain of his boyfriend’s childish game, and partly from the hint at what would probably be his new position.

“Ouch, Satoru!” He carefully pushed him away. “That’s not a sure thing yet.”

“The fuck is not,” said Satoru, stuffing a whole piece of toast into his mouth. “The old guy wants to retire and might recommend someone. Nanami’s practically nonexistent, Haibara doesn’t seem like he’ll be back anytime soon, and between Shoko and me…no. Impossible.”

“Satoru…” he began, adjusting the white bandage he’d been wearing lately.

“What?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he said, laughing, as he shoved another piece of toast into the albino’s mouth, which he happily received.

He smiled, calm. The truth was, Satoru was right. The Tokyo academic body was basically reduced to everyone Gojo had named and him. Thoughtfully, he considered his supposed competition. As for Nanami, his situation was a bit murky; the sorcerer split his time between the school and his bakery, with a strong preference for the latter, making his appearances at the academy increasingly rare. In Haibara’s case, there wasn’t much to say; he was also a good teacher, in fact, one of the best, but on a mission to Hawaii, he discovered surfing and became instantly addicted. And Shoko…well, Shoko didn’t even call herself a teacher. Her way of dealing with the kids was offering them cigarettes and talking about the importance of introducing clonazepam into daily life once you hit thirty. And then there was Satoru.

Oh, Satoru. The Six Eyes heir had many virtues, tons of them. He could kick your ass in Mario Kart, read the Critique of Pure Reason, and play three full football matches, all in one day, but teaching wasn’t his thing. As much as he tried, this year he was in charge of the third-years, the class where Megumi was. And considering that Megumi had moved to the dorms to get away from Gojo, things weren’t looking too good. Satoru swore he was trying, but Suguru knew not enough. He just skipped his classes and swapped with whoever was in charge of the first or second-years. So, no. Teaching wasn’t his thing. Less so with Megumi.

Thinking about Fushiguro reminded him of his other kids. Tsumiki was also at the school, but he didn’t hear about the girls.

“Nana and Mimi?” he asked, concerned.

Satoru laughed mischievously. One of the things he’d done before starting breakfast was hand over his credit card to the girls so they could go eat whatever they wanted, wherever they wanted, which included a shopping spree at the mall.

Suguru guessed what was going on. It wasn’t the first time. Both relieved and annoyed, he gave the albino a little nudge.

“Stop spoiling them! They should be in school too!”

Satoru shrugged. He didn’t care much about spoiling them. The girls had their own strong opinions about Satoru, but when he waved the black card in front of their little noses, all resentment disappeared. There, Satoru went from being the scruffy simp that Geto Sama had unfortunately chosen as a partner to the cool albino uncle. That was enough for Gojo. It allowed him moments like this, alone with his beloved curse manipulator.

“And they’re going to school! Just in the afternoon, to train with Maki.”

Suguru took his coffee cup, took a sip, and then looked at Satoru, thoughtful. He knew him well. The albino didn’t want to go to the academy that day, but why?

As if on cue, the albino’s phone rang. Suguru glimpsed Shoko’s picture before Satoru hung up.

“You should let her know if you’re going to be late,” Suguru said, pointing at the phone with his cup.

“Who says I’m going to be late? I’ll get the laundry done in less than ten minutes,” said the albino, as he dashed to the laundry room. “Hey, Suguru, don’t play dumb. You need to help me.”

Suguru leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watched as Satoru tossed the laundry into the washer without a care. He smiled, seeing how he picked up the underwear with disgust, as if they weren’t his. He thought he was looking at a kid in a thirty-year-old’s body.

Then, he watched as Satoru grabbed a couple of wool skirts and tossed them in with the rest. He approached cautiously and gently took them from his hands.

“These are Nana’s. You know how careful she is with her clothes. They need to be hand-washed,” he said, setting them aside in a different basket.

Satoru leaned on a pile of shirts, annoyed. He really hated this chore. He’d much rather vacuum or wash dishes. There was always some action involved, whether it was encountering a spiderweb full of flies or preventing a couple of glasses from breaking. But doing laundry was slow, contemplative, and, worst of all, there were always garments that needed extra care, which Satoru almost always forgot. That’s why he always wanted Suguru to help him.

“I don’t think anyone will notice if a robot or their dad hand-washed the skirt,” he said, watching Suguru remove some small lint.

“Wow, Satoru, don’t you remember what happened last time?”

Gojo clicked his tongue. Yeah, he had forgotten the disaster of mixing Mimiko’s red socks with Nanako’s blue ribbons, Tsumiki’s white blouses, and Megumi’s black pants. All he’d heard for a whole afternoon were insults like “you’re the worst,” “that’s why nobody goes to your classes,” and “I don’t understand why Geto Sama even lets you handle things.” Well, at least Tsumiki said she was happy her blouses were now pink.

Gojo reflected on that. Things had been much calmer since Megumi and Tsumiki decided to move to the academy dorms. The twins, however, still lived with them and didn’t seem to have any respect for him. Especially Nanako. But the girl’s mind seemed to calm down on days like this, when she and her sister roamed the best shops in town. Though, now that he thought about it, it might not have been the best decision. Last time had cost a lot. More than he usually spent.

Suguru looked at his boyfriend. He was pressing his cheeks with his hands, as he always did when he was lost in thought or worried.

He moved closer and lifted the bandage, revealing Satoru’s right eye. He smiled when he saw him. For some reason, Satoru with one eye seemed strangely attractive.

“It’s not that bad if you forget to separate the colors, little one. I can handle it,” Suguru said, as he put away the rest of the clothes.

Satoru stepped aside to make it easier for his boyfriend, ending up behind him. He walked backward a couple of steps to stand right by the door. He finished removing the bandage and fixed his eyes on what was in front of him.

Gojo Satoru, at almost thirty-one years old, had traveled all over the world. He knew the Great Wall of China, the Eiffel Tower and the Empire State Building. He had also heard whale song, petted a free elephant and watched the northern lights at their peak. All of the above were astonishing wonders that any mortal would want to experience. But he was not just any mortal. He was above all others because he, the strongest of all, walked in the company of the most exquisite creature ever created. No sight compared to what he was seeing: Suguru, just being Suguru.

His blue eyes followed the movements of the curse manipulator. They measured his long back, then settled on his pronounced shoulder blades, which, with each folded garment, made their presence known with masculine elegance. Suguru felt his boyfriend's penetrating gaze and, in a now familiar game of seduction, let his hair, always graceful, fall over his shoulders. Satoru bit his lips as he watched how that black silk bathed his back, whose length ended just at his waist.

Shit, his waist. There was little else to say about it, except that wrapping his hands around that tight, narrow curve felt, always, like an invitation to heaven made by St. Peter himself. That is when you consider that heaven, for Satoru, was only a few inches below.

His breath hitched as he rested his unseemly gaze on Suguru's ass. What had he done so well, in his past life, that he could now enjoy such a magnificent view? An impeccable roundness, the firmness that only years of martial arts practice could give him and a magnificent bearing that invited him to fall asleep on it; all that encompassed his boyfriend's perfect backside.

Geto, guessing where his eyes were already, leaned back. His buttocks met Satoru's hard crotch.

"Ouch, what if you move, can't you see there's laundry to do? ",Suguru asked, flirtatiously.

Satoru grabbed him by the waist and pulled him tight against him. He fiddled with the fabric of his robe and slowly slipped two of his fingers inside it, just enough to feel his generous member and stir Geto's breathing.

"I don't think I'm interested in teaching today,” he whispered in her ear.

"Satoru...” he sighed, throwing his head back slightly. His violet gaze met Gojo's blue one right away, “Today it's your turn to take exams for the third year students."

Gojo pressed his hips harder against Suguru's butt. Suguru let out a moan.

Ah, here they go again.

"I might get sick,” Satoru began to unbutton Suguru's robe with his right hand, while his left hand caressed Suguru's butt.

"You...you don't get sick,” Suguru moaned, as he grabbed his boyfriend's neck, forcing him to direct his lips to his.

Gojo inhaled with desire at the nape of Suguru's neck. The fragrance of his hair drove him crazy since the first time he had felt it, more than ten years ago. That clean, fresh scent, similar but not the same as lavender, which also enclosed warm, woody notes that intertwined with the natural scent of his skin, a fragrance that invited him to drown in it. Sandalwood and cedarwood came together in a whisper as soft as his moans, a promise of comfort and familiarity that made Satoru feel at home.

And tremendously excited.

Suguru felt the touch of his nose and knew what the albino was feeling. The tresses, violet from the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains, were as soft as the fur of the most majestic of minks. He closed his eyes and listened to his breathing, getting louder and louder.

He turned and finished removing her blindfold.

"It's okay,” he whispered in his ear. "Let's get sick together."

Gojo smiled and took his face in his hands. He began to kiss him, first tenderly, as he used to do; Suguru's face was, at first, as fragile as porcelain. However, as his hands moved down his neck, reached his ches and ended at his waist, his tongue more explored that of the curse manipulator. Nothing tasted sweeter to him than that sensual mouth.

Suguru pushed him away. Eagerly, he pulled down the albino's pants. He was ready to put between his lips that magnificent member, a creation that, probably, came from the hand of Eros. He opened his mouth and first ran his tongue along its entire length, then thrust it all the way in. He licked and sucked while, with his fingers, he fiddled around the outside of Satoru's hole.

Gojo couldn't help but bite his lips, to the point of almost breaking them. There was a kind of desperation, a hunger, in the way Suguru licked his cock that made his back tighten in an electric shiver. He closed his eyes. The busy morning noises outside, full of voices and horns were not enough to quiet the sound of his moans. Gojo's deep voice transformed into a soft chant as he emptied his cum into his adoring boyfriend's mouth.

Suguru stood up and kissed him, with the same desire as the first time. It couldn't be any other way. The man in front of him was simply spectacular. There was no one like him in the whole damn world. Geto would get down on his knees for him every time he asked. He smothered him with his tongue, then followed with his neck. He rested both elbows on the washer and wrapped his legs around him, so that only Satoru's hands on his firm ass kept him from falling to the floor.

"So that's what you want, huh?"

Suguru just laughed.

"Just do your job, Gojo Satoru."

The albino chuckled. Damn, what a blessed job he had.

"Are you ready?"

Geto squeezed him around the waist with his legs.

"What do you think?"

Satoru ran his tongue over his lips again, eager as a hungry man would be in front of the fullest of banquets. He gripped his ass tightly, almost digging his nails into it, and slowly penetrated it.

The smell of flowers from the detergent that Suguru threw away at the uncontrolled pleasure of having him inside him, invaded the atmosphere. They laughed, and then their loud moans and the rubbing of their skin was the only thing that could be heard.

"Suguru..."

Geto didn't answer. He couldn't speak at that moment. His boyfriend's hard member was accomplishing what he was born to do; the only mission he had in the universe, was to bring him to a satisfying and strong orgasm.

"Suguru...” continued the albino, "say my... say my name...".

Suguru's narrow ass was driving him crazy. There was nothing else at that moment, in all the world, that Gojo would rather be doing. The albino was as sure of how much he loved to penetrate him as he was that the darkest of nights is followed by the sun. Fucking him was, quite simply, inevitable.

Suguru clenched his fists. He was ready. And he wanted his beloved to come with him.

"Sa...Sato...."

Gojo began to ram him harder. Geto couldn't hold on any longer. The pleasure was building up in a dangerous snowball effect, generating that burning hot craving to scream, to drown, to explode, that only the luckiest beings on this earth know.

"Satoru..."

The name of the heir of the six eyes functioned as a kind of magic word. As soon as it was pronounced, his whole body tensed and, for the second time that day, he filled Suguru with his liquid, who, already letting himself be carried away by how delicious it was to feel the tingling of his penis inside him, succumbed to orgasm.

Gojo moved in and kissed him, as Suguru's body settled. They both breathed shakily and looked at each other as if one was the reflection of the other.

Because that's what they were, after all.

Suddenly Suguru began to laugh out loud.

"What? What are you laughing at? ", Gojo asked, while fixing his pants.

"Well...we'll have to wash all these clothes again".

Satoru, looking at the mess they had left, also began to laugh. Then he kissed him on the cheek.

"I love you, Suguru. You don't know how much,” he whispered. "You can't even imagine."

Suguru smiled, touched. He would never tire of hearing those words.

"I love you too, Satoru."

And he would never tire of saying them.

*

A while later, sitting on the living room couch, the sorcerers looked at each other. Satoru’s legs were resting on Suguru’s thighs, and Suguru’s feet were firmly planted on the ground, as always. They didn’t say a word, letting the sounds of bustling Tokyo be the only thing they heard. Each was absorbed in their own thoughts, but also in the face of the other. Satoru munched on sweets and blinked, calm but almost expectant, like a dog waiting for a gentle pat. Suguru moved his fingers, making swirls in his hair, playing with it like the most innocent of princesses.

He smiled to himself. There was a warm feeling in being silent with Satoru, in watching the trivialities of routine pass by together, without the need for constant expressions of anything. An intimacy that couldn’t be shared with anyone else, because Suguru knew, simply knew, that there was no safer place than in his partner’s arms. In those moments, Suguru felt with every cell in his body that Satoru was his home.

In the immovability of that moment, Satoru noticed Suguru’s hidden smile. Even though he didn’t express it, something changed on his face. That’s how ingrained Satoru had become with the face of the man who was with him. He moved his feet, and Suguru began to stroke them. Gojo felt the warmth of his hands, still palpable through his thin fingers, and the rhythm of his breathing. He also smiled to himself, realizing that their hearts were beating at exactly the same rhythm. Probably few people would dare to claim with such certainty that they had met their reflection, their other half; Satoru was lucky to be one of them. The synchronization of their breaths was just another expression of the level of connection they shared. If love needed to materialize, there was no better vessel than the two of them. If it needed a language, only they spoke it. And if love needed recognition, only they could give it. In those moments, Satoru realized that Suguru was, to him, everything. Simply, everything.

Suddenly, his phone rang again. Shoko, once more. Gojo cut the call again and then went to the kitchen.

“I’m soooo hungry,” he said, pulling out flour from the pantry and a plate of spaghetti from the fridge.

With a worried expression, Suguru appeared in the room.

“It’s noon and I haven’t gone to the academy.”

Satoru tossed a candy wrapper at him playfully.

“Did you have to give a class?”

“No… just administrative work but…”

The albino started laughing, moved closer, and picked him up by the waist, lifting him above his head.

“But nothing. We got sick together, remember?”

Suguru signaled for him to put him down and then buried his head in the albino’s neck, embarrassed.

“We need to stop fucking so much, everywhere and at every chance…”

He couldn’t finish his sentence because Satoru interrupted him with a loud laugh.

“Come on, idiot! You don’t believe that for even a millisecond!” he said, throwing a handful of flour at him.

The flour swirled in the air before landing in Suguru’s dark hair, covering it in white. Suguru blinked in surprise for a second before bursting into laughter.

“Is that why you got the flour, you idiot? You’ll see!”

Without thinking twice, Suguru grabbed a tomato from the counter and threw it at Satoru. The tomato splattered against Satoru’s chest, leaving a red stain on his pecs. Satoru feigned an exaggerated look of horror, placing a hand over his heart as if he’d been gravely injured.

“This means war, Geto Suguru!”

Quickly, Satoru lunged for the handful of spaghetti he had pulled out and threw it at Suguru, who was laughing loudly as he dodged most of the noodles, though a few ended up hanging from his hair.

“You can’t even aim properly, Satoru!”

Laughter intensified as Suguru responded by tossing a spoonful of tomato sauce, which Satoru barely dodged in time. But before Suguru could celebrate his apparent victory, Satoru slid behind him and wrapped him in a hug from behind, pressing him against his chest.

“Got you, dummy!” Satoru declared triumphantly, his voice full of affection.

Suguru laughed and relaxed in Satoru’s arms, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

“Alright, alright, I’ll surrender this time,” he said, turning his head to look at Satoru with a smile.

Satoru smiled back, lowering his head to kiss Suguru’s cheek gently.

“You know you’d always win if it were serious,” Suguru murmured.

He turned completely in Satoru’s arms, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Maybe... but I like it better when we play like this,” Satoru replied before kissing him.

As always, their kiss was the culmination of what they were: one, in everything. Everything, in one.

Dizzy from the kiss, Suguru leaned back.

“Wow…” he said.

“What?”

“We’ve just left another mess!”

They both laughed, nearly collapsing to the floor. Suguru wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and headed for the broom. He started sweeping while Satoru watched, mesmerized.

He framed the moment with his hands and pretended to press a fake shutter, taking a nonexistent photograph. Realizing what he’d done, Suguru blushed, but moments later, he threw a dish towel at Satoru.

“You’re not escaping cleaning just because you’re charming, Gojo Satoru!”

As he bent down to clean, Satoru stuck his tongue out at him.

“Bah. Stick your tongue out as much as you want because…” Suguru began.

“I love you, idiot.”

Again, the same words, and with them, the same tenderness, the same emotion, and the same desire to always be within his soul.

Suguru sat on the floor, getting to his level.

“I love you too, stupid.”

He returned the gesture, sticking his tongue out at him as well.

*

After cleaning the kitchen, they returned to the sofa. They decided to order something. They were too tired to cook.

To pass the time, Satoru grabbed the PlayStation controller and turned it on. Suguru, raising an eyebrow, took it from him.

“Shouldn’t we do something together?” Suguru asked.

Gojo smiled at him, showing all his white teeth.

“Yeah, play FIFA.”

The TV screen went dark as Suguru left the controller on one end of the coffee table and the TV remote on the other.

“Let’s flip a coin. Heads, a movie. Tails, FIFA. But not the 2019 version, I can’t build my team properly in that one,” Suguru said, a bit thoughtfully, as he took a coin out of his wallet.

Satoru, with the agility of a cat, snatched it from him and, instead of tossing it into the air, threw it hard onto the table.

“Satoru! That’s not how you play heads or tails! And the wood! It’s walnut!”

Gojo put his index finger on his mouth, sensually making the shushing gesture.

“Shhh. Look, it’s in your favor.”

Suguru looked at the table. The coin was on top of the TV remote. He smiled. He knew the albino had done it on purpose. He couldn’t control chance, but he could control how he tossed the coin.

He was so damn perfect.

“You choose, then. But not Dragon Ball, please. I’m so sick of Broly.”

“It’s impossible to get tired of Broly. You just don’t know, Suguru.”

Geto laughed. His favorite hobby was cinema. That, plus a diploma in film appreciation, contradicted the albino’s statement.

“Fine, impress me,” Suguru said.

Satoru frowned. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that Geto hadn’t seen, and knowing which ones he wanted to repeat was like trying to count grains of sand. He tossed him the controller while leaning back on the sofa.

“You win, dummy.”

Suguru smiled, a look of childish mischief in his violet eyes. He was about to start one of his favorite movies when Satoru’s phone rang again. Again, it was his friend and colleague’s photo, and again, Gojo hung up.

He looked at him, worried.

“Why did you really miss today? Satoru, if you have a problem or…”

Satoru pushed the hair from his forehead and kissed him. It made him feel tender that his boyfriend was so disciplined, that he couldn’t conceive a day of pure and simple laziness. Because, hours earlier, seeing him asleep, he felt so ineffably in love, so immersed in the strands of his black hair, so lost in the violet of his eyes, that he couldn’t conceive another way to spend his hours.

“I just wanted to be with you,” he said, while caressing him. He took his left hand and started to play with his ring finger.

Suguru’s heart began to beat hard. He knew what that meant.

“Something is missing here…” Gojo said, laughing.

Suguru took the albino’s left hand and did the same.

“Yeah. Here too.”

Satoru brought his nose close to Suguru’s and rubbed it gently.

“When…?”

“Soon, Satoru. Soon.”

He kissed him on the cheek, took the remote control, and started the movie. Satoru closed his eyes with a smile. He wasn’t worried that they still weren’t engaged. At this point, no ring could symbolize the immense love he had. Besides, he knew it was just a matter of time. Nothing could make him distrust what they had. The best thing he could do at that moment was to enjoy every second with him, even if it meant falling asleep during the Tarkovsky film Suguru had so boringly chosen.

Suguru looked at him, amused. He knew he would fall asleep, but that was what he wanted. He was much more concerned about his erratic schedules than having a ring on his finger. Yes, he wanted to marry Satoru, that was obvious with every laugh he brought him, but it wasn’t the main thing. For now, he just wanted him to stop behaving every day as if he were immortal. If there was one thing Geto was sure of, it was wanting to live many, many years with the man beside him.

Without turning off the TV, he snuggled up next to Satoru and rested his head on his chest. He felt his breathing rise and fall, slowly and smoothly, like few things were in the albino’s life. He stroked his abdomen, outlining each of his muscles. He stopped when he reached his groin. He didn’t want to wake him.

Suddenly, the albino opened his eyes. He looked at him, laughed, took his hand, and kissed it. Then, playfully, he grabbed Suguru and placed him on top.

Geto moved, amused, on his lap.

“You never stop, Satoru.”

Gojo released Suguru’s hair and placed it over his shoulders. He looked at him for a moment. Yes, perfect. The words of Shakespeare, Neruda, and Keats would seem small, insufficient to describe his face. And it wasn’t necessary to do so, not when he was lucky enough to admire it every day, he thought, as he wrapped his fingers in his long hair.

“You’re beautiful, Suguru.”

Geto’s cheeks turned pink. All this time together and he was still embarrassed by the albino’s compliments, not because he didn’t believe them, but because he was touched by the sincere tone of his voice. No one could doubt, ever, that Satoru truly believed that Geto was molded in the image and likeness of the gods of Olympus.

He kissed him, first on the lips and then moved down to his neck. He was thinking of continuing, but this time it was his phone that rang. It was Shoko.

“Let it ring,” Satoru pleaded.

“Honey, she’s called more than three times. If she calls me now, it’s for a reason,” Suguru replied as he put on his black silk robe.

“Hello?” he answered the phone, while he was getting dressed.

“Hi, idiot! What are you doing?”

Suguru tightened his mouth. Shoko was probably the last person who wanted to know he was about to have sex with Satoru. Oh no, that was Nanami. But Shoko was definitely the second last.

“Did something happen?”

“Well, if you call having to cover your classes something, then yes. I hate teaching, you know that. And I’ve been bored all day. I just wanted to talk to you, you wouldn’t believe what happened.”

Suguru moved a little. He didn’t want Satoru to hear that the sorceress had called him just to chat.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

“Ijichi asked me out. What do you think? Should I say yes?”

He covered his mouth, excited by the gossip. He had a lot to say about it. However, that could wait.

“How about we go out for a beer tomorrow and you can tell me all about it?” He looked at Satoru, who had turned his back with his eyes closed. “I’m a bit busy right now.”

Shoko’s loud laughter came from the phone. Suguru moved the phone a bit away from his ear as the sorceress continued talking about her day.

Just as Suguru was about to hang up, he heard her say:

“…Well, and those are the kinds of things Nanami only says. And you? Did you just stay home with your ridiculous boyfriend? I didn’t think you were the type to do nothing on a Wednesday.”

Suguru looked at Satoru, who had turned back to sleep, mouth open, drooling. What had he really done? Drink coffee, do laundry, have sex with the love of his life, try to cook, propose to watch a movie with him. Look at his eyes, listen to his voice, laugh at his clumsiness. Feel him.

Feel him.

Feel him.

That was something, definitely. But so intimate, so woven into each other’s souls, that telling Shoko about it didn’t make sense.

He walked to the couch and stroked Satoru’s hair, tucking his rebellious strands behind his ears.

“I think you’d rather not know,” he said, laughing.

As Shoko’s disgusted scream was heard from the other end of the phone, Suguru hung up. He looked at Satoru, who opened his eyes, mischievous, and kissed him.

“Shall we go again?” he asked, with a kind of purring voice, his face blushing and full of hope.

Suguru laughed and stroked his cheeks.

“Let’s go again.”

———————————🖤🤍

Art by ©️ Mindiiw.com

—————-AO3:

[moutainrusing]

monsters

828 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

There were monsters under Remus’s bed.

Actually, there was only one monster.

It was him.

It was really confusing. Werewolves were only supposed to transform on full moons, so why the hell did he suddenly have claws and fangs in the middle of the day when the sun was shining in the noon sky?

He’d felt them coming up like vomit in his throat, awful and sickly, just as he was walking to the Great Hall for lunch, and he’d turned right back, ran to the dormitory, and flung himself under his bed. Then he’d flicked the door and the curtains shut with his wand, and locked himself up for the unforeseeable future, because his monster things were not disappearing.

He shook slightly, nerves twisting around his gut as his anxiety levels broke the roof. He curled into himself, then winced, because that was not a good idea. He pulled his claws away, letting them dangle loosely by his sides.

He decided to run through the catalogue in his mind to try solve the problem. Firstly, when was the next full moon? Two days, so pretty close. This could be a side-effect. Great. He’d just wait it out.

Or maybe not. Someone was pounding on the door.

“Why’s this locked? Who’s in there? Prongs? Moony? Wormtail?! Open the bloody door!” Sirius kicked the door then yelped. Remus snorted. Weakling.

Sirius resumed knocking with his fists. “I’ve deduced you’re Moony!” He yelled.

Remus raised a brow. How was Sirius so sure?

“Only Moons is the type to hide away and not answer!”

Remus was offended.

“Moonbitch, open the bloody door! I need to grab the map! I still haven’t gone to lunch! Wait, have you gone to lunch? Moony, you need to eat! Also, why’ve you locked yourself in?!”

“Sirius, shut up,” Remus groaned, rolling stiffly out from his hiding spot in a hiding spot to carefully nudge the map off his bedside table. It fluttered to the floor, and he grunted while trying to open it with his stupid claws.

“Moony!” Sirius cried. “You’re alive! Now open the door so I can see you.”

Remus snorted. “What, you need confirmation that I’m really alive?”

“Obviously. And hello, are you gonna open the door or do I have to break it down? And why’ve you spelled it against unlocking charms? What are you doing in there?”

“You ask too many questions,” Remus responded, finally charming the map open as an array of names proceeded to overwhelm his mind. “Now, why’d you want the map? I can help you.”

“…You’re not gonna let me in?”

“No, I’ll tell you what you want,” Remus got up and walked to the door.

Sirius drummed his fingers against the door. “You’re weird,” he said finally. “I need to add a new room to the map, so. Let me in.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “There aren’t any undiscovered rooms.”

“Are too.”

“Nope. This map is my greatest accomplishment. It’s perfect.”

“I can make it more perfect.”

“Go eat.”

“Come with me.”

“Already eaten.”

“Liar. I can smell smoke.”

“Your sense of smell is fucked.”

Remus heard Sirius take a deep breath, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll have you know,” Sirius started pompously. “My sense of smell is highly developed. As a dog, I possess around three hundred million olfactory receptors in my nose—”

“Shut the fuck up, dog.”

“Let me in, wolf.”

Remus sighed, glancing down at his claws, poking his fangs with his tongue. “See, about that. I may be a partial wolf right now.”

“Wait, what?!”

Remus opened the door, and Sirius fell right through it, landing on the floor. He leapt up immediately, yelling, “Moony!” and moving to tackle Remus, which Remus side-stepped.

Sirius fell to the floor again. “Ow,” he grumbled. “What was that for?”

“Look up,” Remus held his claws above Sirius, who, to his credit, didn’t flinch. His eyes simply widened.

“Oh. That’s what you meant.”

Remus bared his teeth. “And this.”

“Shit. Can I…” Sirius got to his feet. He reached out for Remus’s claw and ran his fingers over the nails. “Hmm.” He then reached up and ran his fingers over Remus’s teeth. Remus swatted him away.

“What are you doing?!”

Sirius shrugged. “Maybe I can push them back in,” he grinned, before trying to do exactly that.

“Get off!”

“Okay, okay. So, what were you thinking when this happened?”

“What was I thinking? Oh, I dunno, probably that I’m a fucking werewolf and my life is shit because I’m a monster—”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “That’s enough. Now, tell yourself that you’re not a monster.”

Remus snorted. “Okay. Nothing happened.”

Sirius whacked his head. “You gotta believe it, dickhead.”

Remus scowled. “I do believe it!”

“Really? Because, Moony, you’re not a monster.”

Remus was getting annoyed. “Okay, I’m not a monster!”

His fangs slid in, and his hands returned. He looked at them in shock.

Sirius laughed and grabbed one. “Off to lunch, champ.”

[maidragoste]

I Care About You

Aegon II Targaryen x Reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra)

Summary: You remind Aegon that there are people who care about him.

First one shot of the 1k followers special. Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🥰🥰💕💕

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. I'm also posting this while I'm half asleep.

This is part of the universe of "the queen and her husbands" but can be read independently

Masterlist Serie

Aegon woke with a grunt. The sunlight hit him straight in the face. Surely the maid who took him to his room was new and he didn't know that he had to let the curtains open before leaving. Now he had to get up to draw the curtains… Or he could cover up to his head and continue sleeping. Clearly, that was the easier option so he chose that one.

"Good morning"

Aegon quickly got up from the bed at the sound of your voice. He instantly regretted it as he felt dizzy. He stood still for a few moments waiting for the dizziness to go away and took the opportunity to observe his surroundings. He was not in his chambers. The room was a bit smaller. The curtains were blue instead of green. The furniture didn't seem to be just for decoration, like hers, and it had a purpose. Your desk was full of scrolls, I supposed that you were answering your brothers' letters last night when he entered your chambers drunk. You could have kicked him out but instead, you let him sleep in your bed. Not only that, but you had also gotten him clean clothes because his clothes didn't smell of wine.

"You should break your fast," you said without looking at him. Your attention was on whatever you were sewing. You were sitting by the table, which was laden with Aegon's favorite fruits along with some slices of bread and cheese.

The prince sat in the chair that was at the end of the table, closer to you. You still weren't looking at him. Aegon knew you were angry. You weren't yelling at him or insulting him or hitting him like his grandfather and his mother did every time they found him drunk. But I could feel your anger. I didn't know he told you last night to get you upset. No matter how hard he tried to remember, the only thing that brought him back was a headache. He couldn't help but tense up. You're the only person who seems to tolerate it. And now he probably ruined the good relationship between you because of his big mouth. In the end, his mother is right, he always ruins everything.

You saw that Aegon wasn't eating anything so you left the new cloak you were sewing for Jacaerys leaning on another chair. You moved closer to the table to grab a slice of bread and spread some cheese on top. You repeated the procedure with more slices, then placed the plate in front of the prince.

"Eat"

It was just a small gesture but for some reason it made Aegon feel warm and at the same time a small lump rose in his throat. You were mad at him but you still worry about him eating. You ordered his favorite fruits. He wasn't even sure his own mother remembered it.

"You can eat. I swear it's not poisoned" you said making your uncle smile. You couldn't help but smile too when you noticed that he wasn't tense anymore. You didn't like seeing him tense around you. Reminded you of how he got when the hand of the king or queen was present in the same room.

"I apologize for last night," Aegon said even though he didn't remember anything.

Your smile disappeared. "Why?" you snorted as you saw the prince remain silent, confirming your suspicions. "You're apologizing for something you don't even remember. Do you want to know what you told me?" You didn't even wait for an answer from him and you kept talking because you needed to have this conversation with Aegon “You said you didn't mind ending up dead. I found you drowning in your vomit" you felt a lump begin to form in your throat remembering how scared you were when the first thing you saw when you returned to your room was him lying on the floor. For a moment you thought he was dead "I made my servants will help me, when we finished cleaning you I began to tell you that you were irresponsible and that you could have died." you hid your hands under the table to prevent him from seeing how they were shaking "Then you told me to stop pretending that I care about you and that you didn't care about ending up dead because you knew that nobody would miss you because nobody cares about you"

Silence. Aegon couldn't bear to see the heartbroken look on your face so he turned his attention to the plate of bread.

“Do you really think that?” you asked in a whisper, fearing you already knew the answer.

"You are wrong" Aegon's silence had been enough to know his answer so you decided to make him see how things really are"Daeron cares about you. If he didn't care then why does he keep writing you letters?"

You can't blame him for thinking that. It wasn't all in his head. He knew it was true. It was no secret that Viserys Targaryen didn't give a shit about any of his children other than Rhaenyra. For a man who had always wanted a son, the king hardly paid attention to him.

His grandfather and his mother didn't really care about him either, they only cared that he lived up to his expectations and prepared to occupy the throne. Always demanding that he should be more like Aemond. If he did turn up dead, he was sure they would feel relieved not to have to carry him anymore and now they would have the heir they wanted so much: Aemond. His brother wouldn't miss him either, he knows he thinks he's a drunken idiot good for nothing but trouble for his and Helaena's mother. His sister would be better off without him, she always seemed uncomfortable around him.

"For formality" your uncle answered without hesitation, surprising you because you didn't understand how he couldn't see what was more than clear to you.

"Daeron writes to you every week. He is interested in you, he misses you. If it were a matter of formality, he would bother to write to you every three months and his letters would be short. Do you know? When you take too long to answer his letters, he asks about you" you smiled to see the surprise in their eyes"Your children love you too. Maelor laughs more at your grimaces than at mine. You didn't hear it from me but Jaehaera likes it better when you sing to her and Jaehaerys would rather fly with you and Sunfyre than Dreamfyre "You released one of her hands so you could caress her face as you saw the tears start to well up in her eyes. "Your other siblings love you too. Helaena may not be as demonstrative but she does. Aemond cares for you too if she wasn't so then he wouldn't bother to come looking for you every time you're late coming back from your adventures in the city. Aegon, you really do have people who care about you and love you. So you have to start being more careful. Please, Aegon I couldn't stand to lose you" at the end you couldn't help but break your voice. He had been your greatest support along with Aemond after your father's death. The brothers had been the reason you stayed in King's Landing. They are your house.

You rose from your chair so that you could kneel in front of the prince and took his hands. You needed to be close to him.

Feeling your touch Aegon turned to see you. Your eyes were painted with pity. It felt strange to see that look in your eyes. He remembered when you were little and you used to look at him with nothing but admiration and adoration. Now he was so pathetic that you looked at him with pity.

Suddenly you found yourself with the prince clinging to you. His arms hugged you tightly and you could feel his tears wetting your dress but it didn't bother you. You cling to him with the same force. It broke your heart that he would think he was worth so little and no one would miss him if something happened to him. You hoped you wouldn't have another scare like the other last night. You really hoped that your uncle would change his behavior. You didn't want to wake up one day and find out that Aegon had been found dead somewhere.

"I care about you, Aegon" you stroked his hair lovingly "I love you. Never doubt that" you kissed his cheek "King's Landing would suck without you" Aegon's laugh made your chest vibrate.

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[hatelangdon]

Promise Ring.

Pt 2 of this fic/ 1.4k words.

(Franken!Kyle x Witch!Reader)

Slight angst, Hurt/comfort, & fluff

(🚨Warnings: Talks of Fever, Being sick, Crying, Screaming, Possible panic attack🚨)

Summary: After removing Kyle from his problematic situation with Madison, You notice that the poor zombie has also developed some kind of sickness, possibly from the neglect he experienced in the midst of his heartbreak. He has become your "responsibility" so you take care of him and show him a kindness and gentleness that he hasn't experienced before.

(A/N: ...This is very long, I am so sorry but I absolutely love sick!hurt/comfort and I got a lil carried away because Kyle is my sweet angel and I would feel so bad if he didn't feel good, because he definitely doesn't understand why :(....also y'all are going to jump me but there's going to be a part 3 🤓☝🏾 that will be actually taking care of Kyle because I know that is what ya'll want. )

Also, this is not proofread i'm sorry, but once again...Kim, there's people that are dying.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You had put Kyle to bed in your room, he didn't protest much.

Your bedding was very soft, and the sheets smelled of you and lavender pillow spray.

You already had him lying down, piling your purple weighted blanket over his body, which surprised him but he remained calm.

"Are you alright? Do you need anything?" You moved some of his hair from his face, he suddenly grabbed your hand which slightly scared you, but he was gentle.

He pressed your hand up against his face, right on the scar under his right eye from the accident, he looked up into your eyes lovingly.

"y/n t-t-thank you"

"You're welcome Kyle, I know it can be hard sometimes. You've gone through a lot, honey." You gave him a encouraging boop on the nose.

He blinked twice at you, probably trying to decipher what you were feeling, but he knew that you called him honey and honey was good so he smiled, pressing your palm to his dimpled cheek, you could tell that he was getting sleepy from the way he completely squished his face into your hand and how slowly he was blinking.

"Go to sleep Kyle, I'm right here for you."

He nodded, his eyes closing almost obediently.

Once you were sure that he was asleep from his soft breathing, you moved yourself into your papasan chair in the corner, you wanted Kyle to be as comfortable as possible and have a bed to himself.

There was already a blanket in the chair, so you wrapped it around yourself, it was pretty comfy, you'd fallen asleep in in a dozen times before.

You turned off the lamp that illuminated the room in warm white lighting, and slowly found yourself drifting into unconsciousness.

3:42 a.m.

You were woken from your sleep by a shift of weight on top of your body.

You almost freaked out, thinking sleep paralysis had gotten ahold of you, but you were surprised by soft tufts of blonde hair tickling your face, and warm skin against your chest.

Kyle had balled himself in your lap, his arms completely wrapped around your torso, and his head lying on your chest it didn't look like a comfortable position, considering he was much taller than you and practically slipping off the chair.

"Kyle?" You rubbed him on his back gently, trying to wake him up.

He must've been already awake, because you were immediately met with a long groan.

"What are you doing? Why aren't you in the bed?"

"Comfort." he whispered

You cooed, feeling your heart flutter

"Well wouldn't you be more comfortable in the bed?"

He shook his head

"Want...y-you." He said it like it was the plainest thing in the world

You felt your face heat up.

"Well cmon, you can still be with me but let's get in bed. You're falling off the chair Ky."

He grunted, his grip around you tightened

"I'll lay with you, we're just gonna get back in bed okay?"

Kyle sighed and groaned, like the moody baby he was...but he obliged, standing up. His eyes were squinted from the tiny bits of morning light coming through the curtains

You guided him to the bed laying down first, patting a spot for him to lay in your arms.

He immediately crawled into your embrace, letting out a sigh of relief as you wrapped your body around his. You pressed your head into the back of his neck, feeling the warmth radiating.

"Try to get some sleep, Kyle. Alright?"

By the time you had got your words out you could already hear soft snores coming from his lips

5:56 a.m.

The second time you woke up, was from Kyle tossing and turning in his sleep.

At first you thought he was having another nightmare but his face was red and you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin so it seemed like there was something more.

"Kyle, wake up. It's okay you're just having a bad dream."

You tapped him on his chest, trying to wake him up.

He Immediately sat up, hyperventilating and sobbing, his head felt like it was pulsating and he could feel his racing heartbeat in his ears, he wasn't recognizing his surroundings at first, he was scared.

You reached out to comfort him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

"Kyle, what's wron-"

He, threw your hand off of him, and jumped out of the bed.

"NO!"

He was having one of his "fits" Kyle often didn't know how to process his emotions when he was upset, he had lost his sense of emotional regulation and his ability to communicate when Zoe and Madison brought him back.

"NO! NO! NO!"

He grabbed the lamp on your nightstand and threw it to the ground, the glass going everywhere

"KYLE NO, STOP," you grabbed his arm to stop him breaking anything else "you're okay! You're okay! You're not in any danger!" you turned him to look at you, you could tell his eyes were pleading for some sense of understanding, while his brain worked at a million miles a minute trying to connect his pain and confusion to a reason besides anger and a imminent threat.

After a couple of seconds he recognized you as a safe face. He looked around at what he did, all of the glass on the floor and your worried face.

Tears started falling from his eyes, and he reached out to you, he needed touch.

"Kyle, oh come here." You hugged him right away, crossing the sea of glass in your crocs.

"I understand you're upset angel. Come sit down, be careful." You guided him back over to the bed, making sure he didn't cut his feet.

He was completely red in the face, and the tears just wouldn't stop. He was crying so hard, that it looked painful.

"Kyle, I think you're sick baby. You don't feel good do you? It's okay to not feel good, we can fix it."

His big, teary, brown eyes peered into yours as he blinked slowly, not understanding.

"Can I touch you Kyle? Is that alright?"

He hesitated for a second before nodding. You felt his forehead, and he practically melted into your touch which was a relief to his warm skin, he definitely had a fever.

"Does it hurt in here?" You tapped his forehead and he nodded

"Okay, can you show me if it hurts anywhere else?"

He motioned to his stomach patting it, as well as his back, he was finally feeling understood by someone.

You nodded, patting his head to signify that you understood him.

"You're sick Kyle, but that's alright. I'll take care of you. That just means that your body needs some time to calm down and fight something that's not supposed to be in there."

He didn't fully understand what you were talking about, but he trusted that you knew what would make him better.

He always thought you were so smart, even when Zoe was around he noticed how kind you were and how you always seemed to have answers.

"Alright, first things first! I gotta clean up this glass, stay here and lay down." You rubbed his cheek.

Just the notion of you leaving him, made him cry harder as he grabbed onto your arm.

"Kyle, I'm not gonna leave you, I'm not" you shushed him "I'm coming right back, I promise"

He wasn't letting up Zoe had said those same words to him, and she walked straight out of his life after promising that she would be in it forever.

"listen, I take promises very seriously," you gently kissed his forehead and removed one of your rings from your finger. It was silver, and heart shaped with a rose quartz stone "This is the ring my best friend gave me before I had to leave my town," you pressed it into his hand "as long as I'm gone, you get to keep it, that's how you know I'm coming back. It's very important to me, and so are you."

Kyle just stared at the ring, it was very pretty.

"You are important to me"

he understood that enough to let you go.

(Pt 3)

[literally-noone83]

Breathe Easy

Draken x Fem!reader

Synopsis: Draken comes by your place at night only to find out you've been stuck in a household full of screaming and yelling.

A/n: Another short oneeee. Writing juice on low. But I hope you like this comfort fic. Also of you have any requests or ideas for fics please send them in, I'd happy to look at it. Might spark a new writing piece or if I like it enough, I'll write what you suggest :)) Ok enjoy! ALSO, can't reply to comments yet. But to the love given for my Loki fic THANK YOUUUU.

He saunters down dampened roads and over the faint, flickering spots of light from streetlights that buzzed softly. Slanted and with the lingering smell of rust and rain, it marked the neglect of these metropolitan roads. He breezes through the long alleyways and the small spaces between brick walls where every ounce of light is evaporated under the high moon. Only the rare silouhette passes by in his distance or the echoe of reving cars.

His hands rest comfortably in his pockets as he wandered through the blocks of apartments, and dingey homes sat on the outskirts of the city. He knew them like the back of his hand. Needn't stop once or look over his shoulder. He can hear the crisp air whistle in his ear and every mile away car. Even if he was to be attacked it wasn't an issue to Toman's vice-leader.

His nerves rest easy. All that's on his mind is getting to where he needed to be.

Nearing the apartment complexes that sit almost side by side, he made his way over to one of the windows just above the ground. Lined on the floor, there were the partial basement housings. His eyes glided over the dirtied cement, the way the barred widows glisten with droplets that run down its faces. Many of them had its curtains drawn. It was midnight after all. Everyone should be asleep but amidst the lot, his eyes flickered with familiarity at the one that was never fully drawn at this hour. A warm glow from a lamp he knew kissed the edges of the lower window as he drew near.

Naturally the end of his lip curve up softly at the sight. He stops at the foot of it before crouching down, beside your window into your room. He tilts his head to see you at your desk beside that small lamp as expected. However... his eyes peered over your slouched figure upon not textbooks upon textbooks but rather a comic. Strange, he thought.

Casually, he leans forward and knocks on your window. He watched your head snap towards him in somewhat of a shock. He noticed the way your eyes don't light up or the way you don't instantly smile. Instead, you're quick to move over to him and pull the window open before sitting back down.

"I thought you had patrol." You go back to the comic you left open. His smile has long disappeared.

"Finished... thought you'd be studying." He hums lowly. On cue a loud thud ricochet off the wall followed by barking voice of anger that overlapped one another.

Furrowed brows etch his complexion with worry as his eyes instantly dart over to your unflinching self. You continued to stare at your comic. With the way your eyes were distilled upon the animated drawings, he wondered how long you've been re-reading that same page.

"Couldn't think..." You finally murmur.

He let's out a silent sigh. "Should I-"

"They're fine... just angry as usual. And stupid."

His eyes danced over your expression carefully, but it doesn't move.

"Have they been at it all day?"

There's a momentary hesitation in your eyes and he watches shame wash over you like it's your fault. You hum softly not once looking at him.

Draken has seen that face before. Distant and quietly fuming, so unlike the unceasing smiles, bubbling and maniacle laughter, and that endless sarcasm that makes your eyes glimmer. At times, Draken truly wondered how two emotionally unstable and temperamental people could produce someone like you and let their shitty relationship weigh on their child this much.

Over the years knowing you, Draken never saw anything affect your mood as your parents' big blowout fights did. Draken never had parents, and despite growing up under the roof of a brothel that had its own varying imperfections, he could only imagine how hefty it was to be an only child isolated between walls that shook with the yells and screaming of parents love that's meant to warm them.

An unadulterated scream echoes, like a child throwing a tantrum before more barking follows; empty threats of money loss, divorce, cheating and who knows what more. The dull look in your eyes that stares blankly, he could see the hurt you never like showing. But he can see it.

His jaw ticks. He hated you being there alone. He quickly looks around, down both the empty wet streets.

"Hey." He said suddenly.

"You should go." You still don't look at him.

"Hey."

"They'll stop soon."

"I said hey."

"What?" You snap your head towards him, a hint of irritation.

Your gaze met his through the bars where he crouches. He taps on the metal.

"Let's go." It's not a question. It's a soft demand.

The crease between your brows smooths at the mere of idea of escaping. Your lips part, eyes unsure.

"I- draken I can't."

"You can. Come with me." He says again. "C'mon you've done it before."

You sigh at his persistence. "It's midnight."

"And this is a fucking shit hole." He deadpan. "Let's get out of here."

He coxed a brow at you in challenge as you looked at him sternly. Immediately his gaze softens into something assuring and pleading. "Cmon, Y/n... let them have it out. You don't have to listen to their shit."

You take a deep breath before shutting your comic and reaching into your draw for a key. You climb up and unlock the window gate. Draken stands back, swinging the gate open and reaching down to help you up through the window.

"God, they're gonna kill me." You grunt as you find your footing. Draken takes the key and shuts up your window and locks the gate.

"No they won't." He says it so self-assured. Not because he's sure you won't get caught sneaking out but because he'd never let anyone harm you, not even your damned parents.

"You're right, they'd come after you." You poke at him, a smile threatening your lips.

His ears perk up at the tingue of your familiar words. He straightens, looking down at you with a smirk.

"Good. Can't wait to actually meet them." His voice is unsuspecting, but his comment is playful. His dry sarcasm makes you roll your eyes and shake your head to hide the humoured grin that breaks out on your lips. You couldn't help yourself. If anything, everything in you chanted you shouldn't be smiling. Shouldn't even remotely feel like smiling after such a shitty day contained in a cage of torment. But with Draken, you let slip a rather quiet and sarcastic comment, and all of a sudden the end of your lips twitch, and you felt like laughing.

A satisfied smile blooms on his lips as he catches your small smile. There it was. That Sass. That impeccable humour that cracks at the smallest of things. That smile.

There's my girl, he thought.

He takes your hand, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Let's have fun, yea?"

You sober up and a genuine smile takes its place on your lips. Even in darkness, he could see the stars dance in your eyes. You held a softening gaze, and your shoulds deflated as if all stresses were slowly leaving you willingly and happily. With an expression that said through unspoken words he didn't need you to ever say aloud, 'I'm glad you're here.' That 'I feel safe with you.'

"To the park?" You asked, a twinge of childish hope in your voice.

That knowing look in his eyes said yes, and that was all you needed before you were tugging him forward then letting go in a spontaneous race to get there first.

At home you felt like you couldn't breathe. Those walls felt so close together. Outside knowing Draken was a few spaces behind or beside you, you could breathe. Puffing out white smokes of cold air from your lungs after running down the street, giggling and hushing one another in empty pathways and swinging on swings under the streetlight hazy glow.

With you, the dark alleyways and wet tar roads weren't so mundane. Cold rainy nights like that one, sauntering down cramped homes and dingey parks weren't so uninviting. Long nights didn't feel so long, and lonely walks didn't feel so lonely. With you, the moon wasn't the most beautiful sight in the night anymore...

Without having to say it or proclaim it, you both wordlessly save each other from your own endeavours. With one another, you could breathe easy. With one another, you were a little less alone. With one another, you felt safe and, most importantly, alive.

[lazykatie]

What could have happened AFTER the Castlecoming Ball (Part 1)

You can find

What could’ve happened at Castlecoming Week here (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

and

What could have happened AFTER the Castlecoming Ball here (Part 2, Part 3)

Ella walked down the halls of Merlin’s Academy with Charming. With Bridget out of sight since the Castlecoming Ball, she’s grown worried for her friend. She felt guilty that she wasn’t able to get back to Bridget that day, but she hoped that Bridget could forgive her for that.

She parted with Charming. With a small peck on his cheeks, she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Charming skateboarded out while Ella makes her way towards Bridget’s room, hoping to find her there.

In the dormitory, she knocks three times. “Bridget? Are you in there?” Ella called, her voice filled with concern. 

No one answered.

She really hoped that Bridget was right. She hoped that she was just experimenting with new treats to bake for her not to be seen for two days.

Feeling fidgety, she twisted the doorknob but to no avail, until an unlocking sound could be heard from the inside.

“Who is it?” Bridget asked in a low and hoarse voice.

She opened the door to see Ella. “Oh, it’s you,” Bridget muttered, her eyes avoiding Ella’s. Bridget’s hair no longer in a bun, hung limply around her face like an uncooked noodle. Her lipstick smudged across her cheeks while her eyes puffed as if all she had done was cry since the Ball.

“Bridget, what happened?” Ella asked, noticing the change. “You haven’t even changed out of your dress too?” she added, her eyebrow furrowed and eyes tight with concern.

Bridget remained silent, her head facing the floor, as Ella walked inside the room. 

Ella started to turn on the lamps, one by one. When she reached for the last lamp, she felt some shards instead. She withdrew her hand quickly as she felt a shard pierce through her skin. Blood began to flow out from the finger as the room lit up, painting the view clearly.

The room was a mess. Shattered glass littered the floor and the remnants of a broken vase scattered across the table. The crimson gown Bridget had worn was wrinkled and torn at the sleeves.

“Bridget, what happened? Ella asked, her voice filled with worry as she wrapped a tissue around her bleeding finger. Looking around, Ella saw ripped wallpaper like the room was attacked by some wolf. The room smelled like burnt treats. Or was it the scented papers? Bridget’s oven was also on the ground in a broken state. Her curtains were closed shut as if Bridget didn’t want to see any light. 

Bridget’s hollow eyes looked up to Ella. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, turning away.

Ella moved closer, gently taking Bridget’s hand. “This isn’t nothing. Please, talk to me,” she urged softly. 

Ella waited for Bridget’s response. Their breaths are all they hear and now, it’s quite deafening.

Tears slowly dropped as Bridget faced Ella. “Why do you care now?” she said, trying to hold back the tears that kept flowing. 

Bridget’s mind was in a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. Seeing Ella standing there, concern etched on her face, made her want to scream. How could Ella act like she cared now? Where was she when Bridget needed her most? The memories of the ball flashed through her mind, each one like a dagger to her heart. She had felt so alone, so utterly abandoned.

Now, after everything, Ella dared to ask what was wrong. The betrayal cut deep, deeper than she thought possible. She tried to blink away the tears, but they kept coming, fueled by the hurt that had been growing inside her since that night.

“What do you mean? I always care because you’re my best friend.” Ella said as she squeezed Bridget’s hand.

Bridget, unconvinced, shook her off and said, “It didn’t feel that way when you left yesterday. You know, when I needed you the most.”

Ella softened her gaze as she felt her heart pounded in her chest, a reminder of the weight of her guilt. “Bri, Castlecoming was two days ago. Still, I’m sorry if I left. You know I was just hiding from my step sisters. Then Charming helped me out and—” 

“Save it, El. I saw what happened. I saw you flee, holding hands with your prince,” Bridget snapped, her voice bitter. 

Ella couldn’t understand Bridget’s bitterness. She knew it was wrong for her to leave Bridget alone when she was the one who asked in the first place. But, was it also wrong for her to be living the dream? It was already done and she was sorry. She’s here now. She was ready for the consequences or at least she thought she was.

“That’s not fair, Bridget.” Ella protested, her expression pained.

”You know that my life’s been filled with nothing but misery. Charming was the best thing that happened to me,” Ella continued, her voice pleading.

“What about me Ella?!” Bridget’s voice rose, trembling with emotion. “I had the worst time of my life when Uliana turned me into a monster.”

“Bri—” Ella tried to interject.

“They humiliated me at my first dance. Cackled at me as my nose grew longer, my hands crooked, and my skin green,” Bridget recounted, her voice cracking with each word. 

Bridget couldn’t take it. Reliving that moment was already harsh enough. But, the need to retell the story from her perspective just so her ‘best friend’ could understand her was cruel. She hugged herself involuntarily as she remembered that night. The night when she sought for Ella, only for her to see her running out of the hall with Charming.

“I didn’t know—” Ella started, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course, you didn’t know! My so-called friend didn’t even bother to look back at me.” Bridget accused, wiping the tears that streamed down her face.

“I really didn’t know. I’m so sorry. We can go through this together. It was just one of Uliana’s stupid pranks.” Ella pleaded, her eyes welling up with tears.

Ella’s heart ached with regret. She felt small and helpless, wishing she could turn back time. Maybe if she did, she would have made Bridget happier. Happy that Bridget got to experience the Ball. Happy that they would have spent their time laughing about the stories they would’ve created that night. But no, she stood here on the brink of losing one of the important people in her life. For her, just the thought of it was unbearable, but at the same time, she knew part of it was her fault.

“No. I already went through it and you weren’t there. James was right, even salt can look like sugar.” Bridget replied, her voice cold.

“James? James Hook? Why were you with him?” Ella asked, confusion evident on her face.

“It doesn’t concern you now, does it, Ella?”

”He was there when you weren’t. He helped me see the world a bit more clearly.” Bridget added, turning her back on Ella. “You can see yourself out now.”

Ella stood there, stunned, unsure of how to approach her friend. Her breath hitched. She opens her mouth to utter something, just anything. She guessed that anything she said wouldn’t have changed Bridget’s mind. 

“What are you still doing here?” 

“I said leave!” Bridget’s voice rang in the entire room. Ella, not knowing what to do anymore, went through the door and left. 

Each step she took felt heavier than the last as if she dragged the chains of regret behind her. The door clicked shut, but the sound echoed in her mind like a final goodbye.  

Ella knew when she left that she would never see the friend she knew and loved again. Because the Bridget that she saw today had eyes that glowed red and a heart that turned black. She had found love, but in doing so, she lost a friend. She knew part of it was her fault and she would carry these guilt-weights until she took her last breath.  

~~~

A/N: WAHHHHHH! I finally finished it! I know this may not be what you imagined for the aftermath but I really need to conclude the Ella-Bridget relationship. So yeah, here it is. I would be writing the Bridget x Hook part of the aftermath in the near future. Hope you guys like it! Happy reading!!!

[kira-dofc]

Chapter 5 Say my name and everything just stops

7:00 a.m. The first rays of sunshine filtered through the curtains of Kuroo's room, painting the space in a gentle, golden hue. You blinked sleepily, rubbing your eyes to clear the remnants of sleep. Slowly, you sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, letting them dangle for a moment as you gathered the will to stand. Stretching your arms over your head, you could feel the stiffness from the previous day melt away. With a deep breath, you finally rose and padded out of the room, your footsteps soft against the polished wooden floor.

Descending the stairs, you noticed a tall figure moving purposefully towards the kitchen. As you reached the bottom step, an enticing aroma wafted through the air, instantly awakening your senses and making your stomach rumble in anticipation. Following the delicious scent, you entered the kitchen and found Yunah bustling around, a cheerful hum accompanying her movements.

"Oh, you're awake! Good morning, how'd you sleep?" Yunah greeted you warmly, her smile bright as she expertly flipped a pancake in the pan.

"I slept well, thank you," you replied, the drowsiness in your voice gradually dissipating. "What are you cooking? It smells amazing."

Yunah's grin widened as she glanced at you. "Well, I decided to cook breakfast for us since you're here. It's rare for us to have guests stay over, especially you! Plus, I don't have anything pressing to do today, so I figured, why not?" She shrugged nonchalantly before turning her attention back to the stove.

You were aware that the household had maids who typically handled the cooking, but Yunah's enthusiasm was infectious. You offered to help, stepping closer, but she quickly waved you off. "Oh! No, just sit over there," she instructed, pointing to a chair placed perfectly near the island table. "I'll handle everything."

Reluctantly, you complied, moving towards the chair and sitting down. You watched as Yunah moved with practiced ease, her actions almost like a well-rehearsed dance. Your gaze then shifted as Kuroo entered the kitchen, his hair tousled and eyes still heavy with sleep. He sat down in front of you, his expression a mix of reluctance and resignation.

"Good morning," you mumbled, offering a small smile. "How was your sleep?"

"Good, I guess..." Kuroo replied, his voice trailing off as he avoided your eyes, his discomfort palpable.

Before the silence could stretch into awkwardness, Yunah approached the table, balancing plates laden with pancakes, sunny-side-up eggs, and crispy bacon. She set them down with a flourish, then took a seat beside Kuroo, immediately digging into her breakfast.

"Uh, so... Y/n, I asked your dad if you can come out with us today," Yunah announced cheerfully between bites. "Since it's still the weekend, I thought it would be fun to do something together!"

You nodded, appreciating her thoughtfulness. "That sounds great. Where are you planning to go? I can drive us there."

Yunah's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Well, I was thinking we could go to the amusement park. Also, Kuroo, you're coming too," she added, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Kuroo, who had been lazily pushing his food around on his plate, suddenly looked up, his eyes wide with surprise. "What? What gave you that idea? I have plans today—" he began, his voice rising in protest.

Yunah cut him off with a determined look. "You don't have a choice. I cancelled all your plans for today! Plus, we need to spend time together. You're my brother too, after all!" Her words were firm, but her grin was teasing, her affection for her brother evident.

Kuroo's expression shifted from surprise to frustration. "You what? Yunah, you can't just—" he started to shout, his voice echoing in the kitchen.

Yunah remained unfazed, her grin widening. "I can and I did. It's settled. We're all going to the amusement park, and that's final."

As Kuroo continued to argue, his voice rising with each word, you quietly resumed eating, slicing into your pancake with deliberate slowness. The taste was as delightful as the smell, and you couldn't help but savor each bite. The contrast between the heated argument and the serene act of eating made for a peculiar, almost surreal breakfast experience.

Yunah finally turned her attention back to you, her expression softening. "Y/n, I know it's a bit sudden, but I promise it will be fun. We haven't had a chance to hang out in a while, and there's so much I want to show you at the park."

You smiled, appreciating her enthusiasm. "I'm looking forward to it, Yunah. It sounds like a perfect way to spend the day."

Kuroo, still grumbling, finally relented with a heavy sigh. "Fine, I'll come. But I'm not happy about it," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest in a show of defiance.

Yunah's laughter filled the room, light and carefree. "You'll thank me later, Kuroo. Trust me."

The rest of breakfast passed with a lively conversation, mostly driven by Yunah's infectious energy. Even Kuroo, despite his initial reluctance, couldn't help but be drawn into the banter. The prospect of a day filled with adventure and laughter began to take shape, promising a memorable outing that none of you would soon forget.

As you all finished eating and began to clear the table, the anticipation for the day's events grew. The sun climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the house and setting the perfect backdrop for the adventure that awaited you at the amusement park.

-

As you made your way to the bathroom, your thoughts focused on the refreshing shower awaiting you. However, your path was suddenly blocked by a familiar figure. Kuroo stood there, holding out an outfit towards you. "Here, you can borrow this," he said in a nonchalant tone. "Make sure to bring it back though, that ain't for free."

You nodded in response, accepting the clothes. "Thanks, Kuroo," you said, appreciating the gesture. With the outfit in hand, you continued to the bathroom, ready to get cleaned up for the day ahead.

After a rejuvenating shower, you dressed in the borrowed clothes. The outfit fit well, and you were pleased with the look. Now ready, you waited for the others to finish getting ready. You didn't have to wait long before you saw Kuroo emerge from his room. He walked over and stood beside you, his posture mirroring your own as you both waited for Yunah.

The silence between you and Kuroo felt thick and uncomfortable, pressing in on you with each passing second. You glanced at him, and he seemed just as uneasy. To break the tension, Kuroo finally spoke, his voice a low mumble. "So... you like sports?"

Relieved by the attempt at conversation, you nodded. "Yeah, same as you, I guess. I play volleyball."

Kuroo's eyes lit up with a hint of interest. "Cool," he said, though the awkwardness still lingered in his tone.

Just then, you heard a door open. Both of you turned to see Yunah stepping out of her room, dressed to impress. She twirled slightly, causing the ruffles on her skirt to fan out. "So, how do I look?" she asked with a playful smile.

Kuroo's response was immediate and teasing. "Ugly as always. Come on, let's go."

Yunah pouted and playfully punched his arm. "Hey, take that back! I look pretty, don't you think, Y/n?"

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment before responding. "Yeah, I guess... I'll go open the car," you said, hoping to diffuse the playful tension and feeling slightly awkward under the scrutiny.

As you headed outside, Yunah's exasperated voice followed you. "Not you too! Ugh..." she groaned, but her tone was light-hearted.

You couldn't help but smile at their sibling banter. Reaching the car, you unlocked it and opened the door, letting the fresh morning air wash over you. The anticipation of the day ahead grew stronger, filling you with a sense of excitement.

Kuroo and Yunah soon joined you at the car. Kuroo was still wearing a smirk from their earlier exchange, while Yunah continued to grumble playfully under her breath about being called ugly. You could see the close bond they shared, even through the teasing.

As you all piled into the car, the atmosphere began to lighten. Yunah's excitement was contagious, and even Kuroo seemed more relaxed. You started the engine, ready to embark on the adventure that awaited at the amusement park. The car ride promised to be filled with laughter, conversations, and perhaps even more teasing as the three of you headed towards a day of fun and memories.

-

As you drove towards your destination, the excitement in the car was palpable. The conversation buzzed with anticipation and the occasional joke, the city gradually giving way to the sprawling complex of the amusement park. The sight of towering rides and colorful attractions loomed in the distance, drawing closer with each passing moment.

You finally arrived, the car pulling into a bustling parking lot filled with families, groups of friends, and thrill-seekers of all ages. You found a spot and parked, and the three of you stepped out, immediately enveloped by the lively atmosphere. The sounds of laughter, distant screams from rides, and cheerful music filled the air, enhancing the thrill of the adventure that lay ahead.

After securing your tickets, you moved towards the entrance gates. The excitement was written all over Yunah's face, her eyes wide with anticipation. Kuroo, on the other hand, tried to maintain a more composed demeanor, but you could see the spark of excitement in his eyes as well.

Once through the gates, Yunah turned to you both, her enthusiasm bubbling over. "So, what do you guys want to do first?" she asked, her eyes darting around, trying to take in all the possibilities at once.

You scanned the park, taking in the array of attractions, before your eyes landed on a particularly imposing roller coaster in the distance. It was unlike any other roller coaster you had seen, towering high above the park, with steep drops and twists that seemed to defy gravity. Without hesitation, you pointed towards it. "Let's go to that roller coaster," you suggested, your voice filled with excitement.

Both Yunah and Kuroo followed your gaze, their eyes widening as they took in the sheer scale of the ride. The roller coaster was massive, its tracks looping and spiraling in ways that made their stomachs flip just looking at it. Yunah gulped, her initial excitement wavering. "Maybe we should think about this," she began, her voice tinged with hesitation.

Sensing their apprehension, you decided to play your trump card. You turned to them, eyes wide and pleading, giving them the most imploring look you could muster, like a lost kitten begging for a home. "Please...?" you asked, your voice soft and hopeful.

Yunah's resolve melted almost instantly. She sighed, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Aw, fine," she conceded, her playful tone returning. "But if we’re doing this, we better get in line before it gets any longer."

With that, the three of you made your way towards the towering roller coaster. As you approached, the structure seemed to grow even more intimidating, the sounds of its riders' screams and the clatter of the cars on the tracks filling the air. The line was already starting to build, but you managed to find a spot without too much of a wait.

Standing in line, the anticipation grew. You could feel the excitement mixed with a bit of nervous energy. Yunah fidgeted slightly, glancing up at the towering heights of the ride. "I can't believe we're doing this," she muttered, half to herself, half to you.

Kuroo, attempting to maintain his cool demeanor, looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "You really like these kinds of rides, huh?" he asked, a hint of admiration in his voice.

You nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, there's just something about the thrill, the rush of adrenaline," you explained. "It's like nothing else."

The line moved steadily, bringing you closer to the front. As you waited, you chatted about the different rides and attractions you wanted to try next. Yunah's initial nervousness began to fade, replaced by the excitement of the day's possibilities.

Finally, it was your turn to board the roller coaster. You climbed into the car, pulling down the safety harness and securing yourself in. Yunah and Kuroo settled in beside you, their expressions a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement.

As the ride started its slow ascent up the first hill, the three of you exchanged glances, a shared thrill in your eyes. The click-clack of the chains pulling you higher echoed around you, the ground dropping away as you climbed. Reaching the peak, you took in the breathtaking view of the entire park spread out below, just for a moment before the descent began.

The roller coaster plunged, the wind rushing past as you hurtled downwards, the track twisting and turning in exhilarating loops and spirals. The screams of excitement and pure joy from you, Yunah, and even Kuroo filled the air, mingling with the ride’s own roaring sounds.

-

"Ok, we're never going there again," Yunah declared, her voice still shaky from the intense experience. She clung to her stomach, attempting to steady her breathing as you exited the roller coaster. Despite her bold declaration, a small smile hinted at the corners of her mouth, betraying the exhilaration she felt.

It was currently 1:00 p.m., the sun high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the bustling amusement park. The morning had been thrilling, but your stomachs were now reminding you that it was time for a break. As you surveyed the park for your next adventure, Yunah voiced a suggestion. "Hey, why don't we eat first?"

Kuroo nodded in agreement, his usual calm demeanor returning. "Okay, I am pretty hungry as well."

You also nodded, feeling the growl of your own stomach. The three of you wandered through the park, the enticing aromas of various food stalls mixing with the sweet scent of cotton candy and popcorn. Finally, your eyes landed on a quaint burger place with a retro vibe. Its neon sign flickered invitingly, promising delicious comfort food.

Inside, the atmosphere was lively but cozy. Booths lined the walls, and a jukebox in the corner played classic hits that added to the nostalgic charm. You found a booth near the window, giving you a perfect view of the park's main thoroughfare where families and friends bustled about, enjoying their day.

A friendly waitress approached, taking your orders with a smile. "I'll have a double cheeseburger with fries," Kuroo ordered, his eyes lighting up at the thought of a hearty meal. Yunah followed suit, opting for a chicken sandwich with a side of onion rings. You chose a classic bacon burger, paired with a refreshing soda to wash it all down.

As you waited for your food, the three of you chatted about the roller coaster ride, sharing your favorite moments and reliving the thrilling drops and twists. Despite Yunah's initial fear, she couldn't deny the rush she had felt, and her laughter rang out as she recounted her reactions during the ride.

-

As the evening settled over the amusement park, casting a veil of darkness punctuated by colorful lights, the atmosphere took on a magical quality. It was almost time to bid farewell to the thrilling rides and lively crowds, but Yunah had one last suggestion before you left.

"Hey, why don't we go on the Ferris wheel? One last ride before we go?" she suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

You and Kuroo exchanged a glance and nodded in agreement. The Ferris wheel seemed like the perfect way to end the day, offering a serene and peaceful experience amidst the bustling excitement of the park.

Joining the queue, you waited patiently for your turn to ride. The line moved steadily, and soon it was your group's turn to hop into one of the gondolas. However, as you stepped forward, you felt a sudden push from behind. Turning around, you saw Yunah standing there, a mischievous grin on her face.

"I'll be on the second one, you guys have fun!" she declared, her laughter echoing as the doors closed between you.

Now alone with Kuroo in the gondola, a palpable tension filled the air. You took a seat beside him, trying to suppress the nervous flutter in your chest. The Ferris wheel began its slow ascent, the ground falling away beneath you as you rose higher into the night sky.

The view from the top was breathtaking, the twinkling lights of the park and the surrounding city stretching out before you like a sea of stars. You couldn't help but be captivated by the sight, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

"So... uhh..." Kuroo spoke, his voice uncertain, "I...I, never mind." He trailed off, looking away awkwardly.

You sat in silence for a moment, the awkwardness between you palpable. It was clear that Kuroo was struggling to find the right words, and you couldn't blame him. The atmosphere felt charged with unspoken emotions, leaving both of you feeling uncertain and vulnerable.

As the gondola reached the peak of the Ferris wheel, you rested your arms on the chair, gazing out at the breathtaking view below. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and untold feelings.

Then, unexpectedly, you felt a hand rest on top of yours. Startled, you looked up to see Kuroo, his face flushed with embarrassment but his eyes sincere as they met yours. He leaned closer to you, and you mirrored his movement, drawn inexplicably towards him.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his breath mingling with yours in the confined space of the gondola. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment of shared intimacy.

"Y/n..."

Everything surrounding both of you suddenly just stopped, as if time did as well. You could feel your heart beat every second, blood rushing through your veins,

His voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed loudly in your ears, drowning out the sounds of the bustling park below. You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest, as you leaned closer, your lips almost touching...

But before the moment could fully unfold, the door of the gondola opened, startling you both back to reality. You hastily pulled away, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you stepped out onto solid ground.

"Wooh, that was boring," Yunah exclaimed as she emerged from the gondola behind you, oblivious to the tension that had filled the air moments earlier. "Come on, let's go."

Relieved by the interruption, you followed Yunah out of the park, trying to shake off the lingering sense of unease that had settled over you. Climbing into the car, you started the engine and headed back to their home, the events of the evening swirling in your mind.

Once you arrived at their home, you joined Yunah in bidding goodbye to your sister. As you prepared to leave, you felt a tug on your shirt, turning to see Kuroo standing there, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"Hey, uhh... call me when you have time. Bye, I guess..." he mumbled, his eyes avoiding yours as he turned away and headed back towards the house.

You watched him go, feeling a rush of emotions swirling inside you. As you got into your car and drove away, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you and Kuroo, leaving you both with more questions than answers. - Notes: I'll be making a master list after this but OMG this chapter's too much for me its so... Also the title's Taylor referenced if your curious if that came from a lyric <3 Word count: 3200

[not-alien-girl-v]

bro im sad and need 75 fluff

Beside You (George Daniel)

i need u to know how badly i wanted to reply to this with ‘damn that sucks. goodluck tho’

warning: is this too fucked up. you can be honest with me. tw language also i make up my own sayings sometimes so if ur ever reading my work and thinking ‘who the fuck says that’ no one does except for me

note: this is fucked up because i feel like i relate to reader too much. anyways. read at ur own risk

2.8k

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Wallet, phone, gum, breath mints, polaroids, but no keys in her purse. She’s supposed to have them, anyway. George loves to get on her about it every time she forgets them, which is about 50 percent of the time.

And here she is, keyless, outside his house.

It’s like a cruel game, this entire situation. She can hear the laughter inside, voices of her closest friends pooled together in liquid form, swirling around in the room before her like an aquarium of dirty jokes and screaming laughter.

They’re all just on the other side of the door. Just a room away. Yet she’s still on the outside, looking in through some metaphorical window. The curtains are closed, the glass shut to keep the smell of weed and cigarettes inside.

She misses them, more than she can say, more than she thought she would.

‘The door is always open,” she can hear his words ringing through her head. ‘To you,’ an afterthought. She never knows what to make of it when he says things like that.

Again, though, metaphorically, the door is open. Physically? It’s locked tighter than her asshole.

So if not keys, what does she have? Dignity? It’s close to being out the window if she has to knock repeatedly until someone hears her and opens the door, even more so if she has to call him to open it, or any of them, really, she doesn’t want to seem desperate, at least not as desperate as she truly is.

God, she feels like a schoolgirl just at the thought of this whole ordeal. She’s in love with George Daniel. It’s not a hard thing to do, he’s basically the man of any girl’s dreams, but she was just fortunate enough (or perhaps, unfortunate enough) to become friends with him.

Him, and his stupid friends, his stupid house, his stupid locks.

She’s deciding what to do when, magically, the door swings open on its own. But it isn’t magic. It’s just George.

He grins, not like he’s happy to see her, but like he’s happy to be right, prove a point about something. He doesn’t greet her, he takes a step back, letting her cross the threshold on her own terms, and proudly exclaims to his dumbass friends scattered around the living room.

“I was right! I told you she’d be waiting outside like a creep!” Again, making no moves to interact with her at all. No ‘we’ve been apart for 4 months hug.’ No ‘I miss you’, no ‘I’m sorry I don’t answer when you call’, but somehow she loves how he doesn’t care.

He’s nonchalant, the ‘chill’ one of the group, always too high to care too much about anything, but it’s not a fault, not to her. Rose tinted glasses, or something.

Ross is on the single lounge chair, slumped down, joint pinched between the his pointer and thumb of his right hand, Adam sprawled out on the loveseat, stretching his legs out onto George’s previous seat, taking up the entire space of the couch since George got up and abandoned his cushy spot.

Matty’s on the floor. Matty was on the floor, but he twists onto his feet, approaching her in the door way.

“Y/N! It’s good to see your face,” he works his arms over both her shoulders, less of a mutual hug, more him holding her hostage in a death trap for a moment, firm pats and swipes on her clothed back. “I missed you,” that last part is muffled into her hair.

She watches George over Matty’s shoulder, rolling his eyes at Hann, pretending to sit on Ross’s lap for a second before dropping to the ground, legs crossed, and takes the joint from Ross. His mouth hollows around it as he inhales, carved cheekbones on full display.

He’s a spectacle to watch. If she had it her way, she’d never take her eyes off of him. But she can’t have it her way, not yet.

She gives Matty 3 firm rubs on the back, muttering a ‘missed you too’ into his neck, then ducks under his arms, sitting herself an appropriate distance from George on the floor, but close enough to show she wants more than friendship, if that’s even something that can be conveyed through sitting distance.

It’s these types of things that rot her brain every time she’s near him. It’s like a spell he puts her under, she can’t talk right, she gets all blushy and flushed and nervous when she looks at him, so she’s made a habit of looking anywhere else, the floor, her nails, his friends.

She’s snapped out of her daydream by George elbowing her in the ribs to grab her attention. “You want a hit?”

She allows herself a smidge of self-indulgence. Eyes trace his shoulder, rippling muscles under warm skin under colored tattoos, she wanders down it to his arms, veins protruding like he’s completing some impressive feat, one that requires complete contraction of all his muscles, yet between his fingers, all that lays is a tiny joint.

“Uh, yeah,” she decides to allow her fingers to gently brush his own, concluding it’s just the right amount of mix of longing and friendly gesture, romantic and platonic stirred into one touch, and this, this little action, this will be the moment George confesses his true love for her so she doesn’t have to do it first.

She could do it. She could say what she’s been biting her tongue about for years and years now. She could have done it any number of moments these past years.

The night before the boys left for tour, when George stopped by her house impulsively, out in the pouring rain for her until she let him in, and they talked and talked and talked until their throats ran raw and voices croaked. Any pause in the conversation, she could have blurted it out, pulled his lips to hers.

Halloween, 1 year ago, when she dropped acid and began to have a bad trip, she freaked out so hard she was almost inconsolable, when he locked the door behind them in her bedroom and wrestled her frantic self down onto her bed and held her there. He was so close, nearly every inch of his body molded to hers in some way, hell, she could feel his breath on the space behind her ear. They stayed like that for hours. She didn’t utter a word.

She will admit, things have been different as of late. These moments where she thinks she could almost say what she wants to are becoming sparse. Intense, deep moments that make her feel connected to him body and soul. She hasn’t been feeling it as much lately.

Maybe she was pulling away from him, maybe he was pulling away from her, but the distance from tour wasn’t the only space between them.

That didn’t stop her from missing him like hell every time he went away.

“By the way, Y/N, we ordered Chinese before you got here, there’s leftovers in the kitchen,” Adam mumbles to her, like it’s his only volume of voice. Has he ever yelled?

She nods, wordlessly, and walks to the kitchen, hoping to get away from the whirlwind of emotions she is being assaulted by from simply being in the presence of George. Years of friendship and it never gets easier.

She finished a small plate of food quietly in the kitchen. She hears the boys laughing in the room, on the other side of the wall.

Leaning over the sink, she scrapes the plastic fork against the edges of the now empty bowl.

“That was quick,” a voice from behind her, startling her so bad, she drops both items in the sink.

It’s him.

“I was hungry.”

He approaches from behind, getting too close than what she would consider a friendly distance, but George does this all the time.

What he doesn’t do all the time, however, is wrap his arms around her waist from behind. "Missed you," he speaks through an inhale, like he's breathing her in, toxic fumes that swirl around his lungs like smoke.

"Yeah, same." She's a fucking imbecile. How was he supposed to know she loved him when she says such dry things when he's here, wearing his heart on his sleeve as he does. Does he do this to all his female friends?

He hums, not prodding further about the way her voice is unexpectedly monotone. He releases her from his grip, reaching around her for a fortune cookie.

"You had one of these yet? They kind of taste like an old man's ear but I know you love the corny messages inside of them." He's right. She does love that. She loves that he knows she loves it. She loves him.

"Sure," she takes it from him, cracking open the shell and discarding the gross cookie on the counter behind them, as she does so, he settles himself in front of her, trapping her against the counter with both hands resting on it on either side of her, their chests not quite touching but she certainly can feel his warm body next to hers.

"What's it say?" He mumbles, not wanting his buddies to catch him in such a compromising position with one of his closest friends. Matty would surely give him hell for it. 'Why don't you ever treat me like that?'

If Matty weren't so hung up on Y/N, George would swear the boy was gay for him.

She unrolls the white paper. 'You only live once. 19 3 23 90.' Was this thing for real? Were the stars truly aligning so perfectly for her just this once. And the numbers, they're numbers engraved in the same sector of her brain, the sector containing all things George. When rearranged, they would spell out George's birthday. The 23rd of March, 1990.

Fuck, it was like God herself was here, screaming in Y/N's face, "this is a sign! This is a sign!" It was neon, bright pink and green, appearing over the man's head, reflecting of his bleached blond hair. George gazes patiently at her.

"YOLO," she says, and laughs without humor. He cackles, his loud, familiar witchy laugh that makes her weak at the knees, but she doesn't allow herself to swoon.

"No fucking way! Let me see that," he cruelly rips it out of her gentle fingers, eyeing it himself. He exhales a sigh, "what a fucking joke."

A sign. A sign. A sign.

"George. George?" She tries out his name like it's the first time. He doesn't suspect a thing, he glances innocently up at her from the fortune paper.

"Yes, love?" An arrow through her heart, piercing ang stinging, sharp.

"I..."

"What?"

"I love you. I love you. More than as a friend."

And he laughs. He laughs like she just told some tastefully dirty joke to him, like friends would, good friends, best friends. "Yeah, sure."

"I'm serious George. I'm in love with you. I have been for, I don't know, a long time.

He retreats. He backs away, smile wiped from his face.

"No, no." He tries to shake his head like disagreeing with her will make it not true.

"I am. I didn't know how to tell you, I swear, I lost count of all the times I almost did. I was so close for so long, but I was scared. Still am. Please." God, how pathetic does she sound right now. Please? This is not how she planned it. Where was the requited love confession? The passionate kiss? The foreheads pressed together like lovers would? It's nowhere to be found, she's afraid.

"Don't do this. Come on, we've got a good thing going, you and me. Don't ruin it, you're ruining it!" His voice starts to raise.

She fucked up big time.

"I'm ruining it? Me! You didn't call me for 4 months. 4 months, George. You didn't answer my texts, nothing! You left me with nothing for 4 fucking months! Then, when you finally get back, I come to see you and you say nothing! You said nothing to me! No, wait, you called me a creep for standing outside your house. No hug, no 'I missed you'. Nothing, George!"

"Look, I just didn't want to be all sappy about you in front of the guys. It would look... I don't know... weird."

"Oh, ok. So you weren't being all sappy when you were practically groping your ex-girlfriend in a room with everyone? Sucking face, sitting her on your lap, grabbing her tits, that's not too sappy for you. But saying hello to your best friend you haven't heard from in months? That's where you draw the line, huh? Can you just be honest with me? Can you just tell me the fucking truth?"

He's sure everyone's been hearing every single word of this, and to his surprise, no one has intervened yet. Not even Matty.

"Fine, Y/N. You want the truth? If you want it so bad, then you can have it. I knew you loved me. You're so obvious about it, God, I'm not fucking stupid. But I never felt the same way, so I didn't say anything. Is that a crime? It's nothing new to you, you're not my type. If we're both being honest, you're not the most attractive girl. It's not your fault. And it never bothered me because we're friends. Why can't we just be friends? Please, Y/N, stop doing this, you're only making it worse."

"You're such a dick! You're such a fucking dick!"

It's at this point, Matty and Ross pile into the room, Ross trying to diffuse the situation by attempting to escort George out of the tension-filled room, Matty trying to escalate the situation, giving George a slap to the face.

"What the fuck is your problem, asshole? After everything I told you? Everything we've been through?" Now Ross is attempting to pull George away from Matty, Adam joining in to separate Matty from George.

"She's my fucking friend! I'll deal with her how I want to!" George retorts. He attempts lunging at Matty but Ross, full-bodied and strong, holds him back.

"Sure, she's your fucking friend. So what? That means you have the right to treat her like shit when she tells you how she feels? You've been leading her on for years now! Everyone knows it. Ross, Adam, me, you brought this upon your fucking self and now the inevitable has happened and this is how you choose to deal with it! She's a human being, with real feelings, real emotions, and more than that, she's your best friend. Shouldn't that count for something at a time like this?"

The physical aggression has mostly gone away now, and Ross is unsure of what to do, should he break up the argument? Take sides? Back Matty up? Console the now sobbing Y/N? He takes frantic glances to Hann as he debates all the options, Hann, clearly doing the same. They stay frozen in their spots.

"I'm not in love with her. I don't love her, not like that, she just doesn't do it for me. I can't control that. I don't have to love her back, I can't. Besides, I thought you were the one head over heels for her. This should be your lucky day, after a tough rejection, you can swoop in on your white horse and take her for yourself. You should be thanking me, giving you an opening after all this ridiculous pining you've been doing."

"You're right, I do want her. I've wanted her to love me for as long as she's been hung up on you. But I'm a decent fucking guy, and I wouldn't want to start something with her, not under these circumstances. This is all wrong, this isn't right, George. She doesn't deserve this. She cares about you, she cares so much, and you knew this whole time, so obviously you should have known better than to go and treat her like this. Grow a pair, you cunt!" Matty finishes with a harsh poke to George's chest.

Unsurprisingly, George storms out, despite this being his own house, car keys in his pocket, and no one quite knows where he may be off to at a time like this but that's not anyone's main priority anymore.

Matty takes a moment to collect himself, trying to pretend like he's the only one in the room for a moment, before turning around to assess the situation, the girl he's been in love with.

He turns to see her crying into a hug from Ross, Adam unsurely rubbing her back in comfort, neither one of them certain on what to do. There's still so much left unsaid.

Once Ross takes notice of Matty's impatient gaze, he pats the girl's back, turning her in his grasp, trying not to feel bad about essentially handing her off to Matty, but at the moment, it seems like they need each other more than anyone needs Ross, so he does what he has to do. "Go to him, love," he mutters, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

Hesitantly, she approaches Matty, no idea of what is next to come.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @milkluvr8 @americanangel

[worstghost]

OMG could u write Alejandro when reader gets shot during battle/a mission? (headcanons).

Just angst angst angst with fluffff.

I love alejandro sm, Im living from crumbs of the same fics bc nobody writes neww oness😭😭😭💀💀.

i don't think this is my best, and I'm not very good at angst, but I still loved writing it and I'm sorry it turned into a drabble instead of headcanons, I got carried away 😭 (also sorry again if the spanish is incorrect, i dont trust google translate)

♡You and Alejandro don't get along. It's well known across 141, Los Vaqueros, anyone who sees you two work together.

♡You're constantly bickering, (Soap calls it flirting but you're quick to shut him up), even going as far as insulting each other when you're really low.

♡The issue is you're too similar, too snarky, too confident. You can only one up each other so many times before something breaks. No one can decide if they want it to break though.

The team is holed up in a small home on the edge of town, regrouping and planning the next move and Alejandro is trying to talk to you, but you keep rejecting all of his attempts, and you both know now isn't the time but something finally snaps.

And then he's yelling that "You're being stupid, and you need to listen to me, I know what I'm talking about-"

And you shout back with a low blow, "Of course you know everything, you could fit an entire encyclopedia in that big head of yours-"

His mouth snaps shut, teeth clicking together, and Soap barks out a laugh behind you, and Ghost finally steps in, moving up to you with a loud "Enough!"

And then, the window across from you shatters, and you feel the shot before you hear it.

You're thrown back into the wall, searing pain shooting through your shoulder, down your spine. The air is knocked from your lungs.

It's chaos, panic, Alejandro grabs you and pulls you across the room with him, away from the windows.

You can't swallow the spit in your mouth, you can't think. You just watch as the team huddles around you, Ghost shouting commands and you don't know if he said 'Get up and move' or 'Fuck we're screwed', it's all the same.

Alejandro is pressing his hands against your shoulder, you grit your teeth and dig your nails into his wrist. He takes it and keeps talking to you, telling you to keep your eyes open and on him, look at him, and you do and everything feels different like this. He's so different like this. You can see the panic in his eyes and you feel like you're suffocating against him, clinging to his arms.

He let's you, in fact, he pulls you closer, grasping your face in his hand. "Look at me, cariño, I'm going to get you out of here." It's so gentle, like you'd never seen him before.

You blink, and you're in a stark white room, sunlight peeking through cheap polyester curtains and everything smells like sterile cleaning products and it makes you nauseous.

He's been waiting for you, in the med bay, he doesn't want you to wake up alone. While he's sitting or pacing, he thinks of how things could have been different. If instead of berating you for being stubborn, he had complimented you on your willpower. Or instead of pushing you aside in missions, he had told you he couldn't stand the thought of you getting hurt. So many things he could have done differently, and now he's here, waiting for you to wake up so he can explain himself.

And you do, and when you roll your head to the side and see him your face visibly relaxes, and a wave of relief washes over him.

You're not angry at least, that's all he could ask for.

Alejandro slides his chair closer to the bed and brushes strands of hair from your eyes, trying to think of where to start. You look tired, your lips are chapped and your hair is a mess, but he thinks you still look so beautiful now that you're awake.

"Me asustaste, cariño." He huffs out a laugh at the bewildered expression on your face, sliding his fingers down to touch your jaw.

"I scared you? Alejandro, I thought my last words were going to be telling you you have a fat head."

You join him in laughing, your voice shaky, and he leans in to press his forehead to yours, sharing a breath.

"All is forgiven, as long as you don't try to leave me again." He sighs into you, feeling you nod against him.

Things are definitely different now, but it's not a bad thing.