#anything ive said? or maybe it could be how you run off and leave me and stare at me like im a fucking freak when i try to go up to you?

[honeyncherry]

secret of us IV - joe burrow

summary tick tock joe, your time is running out. you'd better make your move before she slips away for good

content angst, swearing, slow burn

part three ; next

For as long as he can recall, Joe has always been a victim of Impostor Syndrome. No matter how many accolades he earned or how many times he proved himself, it was never enough. The feeling stayed, an insistent voice that whispered he didn’t belong. That he wasn’t enough. It crept into the moments that should have felt triumphant, dulling their shine, leaving him wondering when the world would realize he was just faking it more than not.

Love, he’d always thought, was the same. Not him, not something he deserved. How could it be when he was constantly battling the belief that he wasn’t enough. Not good enough, not selfless enough, not strong enough to hold on to something as rare as love? He’d convinced himself he was too flawed, too guarded, and too consumed by the weight of his own insecurities to ever be someone’s safe haven.

He believed love deserved someone who wasn’t afraid of it, someone who wouldn’t ruin it just by trying to hold on too tightly.

​​With a life that’s always been marked by transience — teammates who came and went, fans whose loyalty burned bright but faded just as quickly, and moments of glory that felt fleeting the second the final whistle blew, Joe had learned to live with uncertainty. The instability of it all only reinforced his doubts, leaving him convinced that nothing good ever stayed. Not for long. Not for him.

It was a quiet ache, the kind that didn’t scream or demand attention but lingered in the corners of his mind. He’d felt it since he was young, though he couldn’t name it then. It was the echo of his mom’s laughter when she thought he wasn’t listening, the way his dad’s hand would rest on his shoulder after a tough game. It was fleeting gestures, not foundations. And maybe that was the problem: he didn’t know how to believe in something that wouldn’t slip away.

But then you came around.

He couldn’t pinpoint the moment you became different, no single flashpoint where everything shifted. Maybe it was that first week at OSU, when you sat beside him on a ratty couch at a teammate’s house party.

He’d been perched on the edge of the couch, nursing a drink he didn’t want, his knee bouncing with restless energy. The party felt too loud, too crowded, like he was watching from behind a pane of glass instead of being part of it. Then you sat down beside him, close enough that your leg brushed his.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” you’d said, your voice loud enough to cut through the music but soft enough to feel like a secret.

Startled, he’d glanced at you, unsure how to respond. “Not really my scene,” he finally admitted, his voice low and uncertain.

You’d laughed, a bright, easy sound that made his shoulders drop a fraction. “Same. My friends dragged me here against my will.” You paused, your eyes scanning the room as if you were searching for a way out. Joe thought that might be the end of it, just another fleeting exchange.

But then you straightened up, turning toward him with a curious tilt of your head. “Want to get some air?”

He didn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the way you smiled at him, like you weren’t judging him for feeling out of place. Or maybe it was because, for the first time since arriving on campus, he felt like he’d found someone worth knowing. Not his roommate, who was overly eager about sharing a room with someone on the team. Not even his teammates, who barely acknowledged him off the field.

That night, sitting with you on the back steps of the house, talking about anything and everything, felt like the first time in ages he could just breathe.

That was the first thread.

Then there was the aftermath of the 2020 game against Clemson. The field was a frenzy. Players shouting, confetti raining down like a golden storm, and fans roaring from the stands. Reporters swarmed coaches and teammates, microphones jostling for space, cameras snapping endlessly. It was chaos, beautiful and overwhelming.

The National Championship. They’d done it. He’d done it.

Joe let out a shaky laugh, raking a hand through his sweat-soaked hair as a teammate clapped him hard on the back. His body felt like it had been through a war, bruised and battered, but he barely noticed. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, numbing the aches. This was it. The moment he’d dreamed of since he was a kid. Yet, standing in the middle of the confetti-strewn field, it still didn’t feel entirely real.

Reporters pushed toward him, but their questions blurred into static. He answered on autopilot, the words coming easily. Praise the team. Credit the coaches. Downplay his own role. He meant every word, but beneath it all was a flicker of something else. A nagging itch he hadn’t been able to shake all day.

You weren’t here.

You’d called a few days before, your voice every bit apologetic. “It’s a family wedding, Joe. I hate missing this, but I’ll be glued to ESPN, screaming at every play. You’re going to kill it.”

He’d smiled through the phone, forcing himself to sound unaffected. “It’s fine. You’ve got stuff to do.”

But it wasn’t fine to him. Not really. He knew it was selfish, knew he should’ve been grateful you even cared enough to tell him beforehand. But the thought still crept in uninvitedly. You’d been there for so many games, cheering him on with that unwavering support that he didn’t always know how to handle. And now, at the biggest moment of his career, you weren’t.

He swallowed the thought, trying to shake the disappointment. The crowd was still chanting, the cameras still flashing, and the night was far from over. He couldn’t let himself dwell on it.

But then, as he glanced toward the edge of the field, something caught his eye.

At first, it was just a glimpse — a flash of familiarity near the barricade. His eyes caught on the figure for a moment before darting away, his chest tightening instinctively. No, it couldn’t be. It was just the uproar messing with his head, the exhaustion playing tricks on him.

But it plagued him, begging for his attention.

Joe hesitated.

What if he was wrong? What if it wasn’t you? The thought made his stomach twist, disappointment threatening to creep in yet again before he could stop it. He told himself to let it go, to focus on the celebration. But he stood frozen in place.

Against his better judgment, he turned fully toward the sight, his heart thudding in his chest.

And there you were.

Standing near the barricade, mid-conversation with a friend, your profile unmistakable under the glow of the stadium lights. His breath caught, the air rushing out of his lungs like he’d been tackled. It was you.

For a moment, all he could do was stare, his mind scrambling to catch up. 

You weren’t supposed to be here. You had obligations. You’d told him yourself. 

And yet, here you were, real and undeniable as if the universe had decided to drop you into the middle of his mayhem just to remind him you were always there when it mattered most.

Your friend nudged you, pointing in his direction. You turned, eyes meeting his from across the distance.

The moment stretched, a fragile thread holding the two of you in place.

Then you smiled, a soft, warming smile that seemed to slow the madness around him. His chest tightened, the thrum of his pulse roaring in his ears as his breath caught. He watched as you lifted your hand, fingers curling into a small, hesitant wave. The gesture felt delicate, almost cautious, as if you were feeling your way through the moment, unsure of how he might react.

Joe felt frozen, his legs rooted in the turf, but everything inside him surged forward.

You were here.

Before he could stop himself, he was moving. The reporters were focused on the coaches, giving him a chance to slip away unnoticed. His legs felt heavy, his body sore, but none of that mattered. He jogged toward you, the noise of the stadium fading with every step.

When he reached the barricade, he didn’t think twice. He leaned over and pulled you into his arms, his face burying into the curve of your neck.

“You’re here,” he breathed, his voice crackled with emotion.

“Of course I am,” you said, words muffled as you held him just as tightly. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

He pulled back slightly, hands gripping your shoulders as his eyes searched your face. “You lied about the wedding?”

A mischievous grin spread across your face, one that made his heart skip a beat. “Maybe. I thought a surprise would be more fun.”

Joe laughed, a sound that was part disbelief and part relief, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, just for you.

Before he could say more, he felt a strong arm hook around his waist.

“Burrow! Come on, man!” Ja’Marr cheered, tugging him back toward the crowd. Joe reluctantly let go of you, his hands lingering on your arms for a moment longer than necessary.

“I’ll find you later,” he grinned quickly, eyes locking onto yours one last time.

As he was dragged back into the chaos, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, searching for you in the crowd. You were still standing there, watching him with a smile that made everything else melt away.

The noise, the confetti, the cameras, it all felt secondary. Because in that moment, to Joe, the championship wasn’t just about the trophy or the victory.

It was about you. The way you were there for him. Every. Single. Time.

That thread was golden.

Or maybe it was later, on those long nights during his rookie year with the Bengals. When the weight of expectations pressed heavy on his chest and your voice on the other end of the line was the only thing that could keep him grounded.

He remembered one night in particular. The season had been brutal thus far, each game feeling like another test he wasn’t sure he could pass. He’d spent the day running drills, analyzing film, and listening to coaches dissect every decision he’d made on and off the field. By the time he got home, his house felt suffocatingly quiet, the kind of silence that left him alone with his doubts.

He’d called you without thinking, the phone pressed tightly to his ear as he finally took a second to sit down. “I feel like I’m drowning,” he admitted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. His voice faltered in a way he hadn’t meant for you to hear, betraying just how close he was to breaking. 

You didn’t miss a beat. “You’re not drowning, Joe,” you said, your voice steady and sure. “You’re just in deep water. You know how to swim.”

He let out a soft laugh, tinged with disbelief. “A swimming reference? Really? What am I, Phelps?” he asked, half-smirking, half-expecting you to laugh it off.

“Yeah, I am,” you shot back, unfazed. “Because it’s true. You’re a better swimmer than you give yourself credit for.”

He chuckled again, shaking his head as he sank deeper into the couch. “What if I forgot how?” he played along, the doubt still clinging to his words.

“Then I’ll jump in after you,” you replied, the words so calm and certain that they made him pause. At first, he thought you were joking, but the conviction in your tone made his head spin. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to process what you’d just said.

It wasn’t the first time someone had offered support. Though, oftentimes, it felt hollow coming from them. People would praise him then turn their backs and mock him when he wasn’t looking. But with you, it was different. Your belief in him didn’t feel fake or conditional. It felt real, unshakable and right in a way that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

“Why are you so sure I’ll figure it out?” he’d asked, his voice softer now, the pressure loosening just enough to let him breathe.

“Because you’re you,” you said simply. “And I’ve never known you to back down from anything. Even if you feel like you’re sinking now, you’ll get through it. You always do.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Instead, he closed his eyes and let your voice wash over him as you started talking about your day — little things like the mix-up at the printing machine that morning or the neighbor who’d just adopted a cat. It wasn’t anything earth-shattering, but it was exactly what he needed. Enough to pull him out of his head, enough to ease the tension in his body and mind until he could finally sit still.

This was the thread that held everything together.

Joe had, overall, always been good at keeping things in their place. It’s what made him excel under pressure, what allowed him to keep his head when everything around him spun out of control. But you? You blurred the lines. You seeped into the cracks he’d worked so hard to seal, and he hated you for it almost as much as he loved you for it.

It took him years to understand it. Years of standing too close yet not close enough, of watching you steal his hoodies and tease him about his game-day routines, of feeling your hand brush his arm in ways that left his skin tingling long after. Years of telling himself it was just friendship, because anything else felt too big, too dangerous.

And then it hit him.

It wasn’t a revelation that came in a rush or a sudden burst of clarity. It crept in slowly, like the tide pulling back just enough to reveal what had always been there. Joe loved you. He’d loved you for longer than he could admit to himself. And the weight of it? It was crushing.

He was always terrified of losing control, of letting his emotions dictate his decisions. Football demanded a sort of precision: discipline so ruthless it bordered on obsession, a singular focus that left no room for distractions or vulnerability. Every play, every moment on the field, required him to suppress the nagging sentiments inside, to bury the doubts and emotions that had built up over the years and threatened to surface.

Anything less than perfect control felt like weakness, and weakness wasn’t something he could afford. Not on the field. Not off it. 

But you? You were the exception. The one thing he couldn’t control, no matter how hard he tried.

Joe thought about the night you’d shown up at his house, your voice trembling as you demanded answers he wasn’t ready to give. The way your eyes searched his, raw and pleading, left him feeling more exposed than he’d ever been on any field. He’d wanted to tell you then. He wanted to reach for you, pull you close, and let the words spill out in an unstoppable manner.

But he froze. The fear clawing at his chest was too strong to ignore. Fear of ruining what you had. Fear of being too much, or worse, not enough. Fear of you seeing the parts of him he’d worked so hard to bury. The parts that weren’t perfect or polished. The parts that felt fragile in a way he couldn’t admit, even to himself.

So now, sitting in his car outside the bar, fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles ached, he realized he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t keep running from this, from you. It wasn’t just about the guilt — though that was part of it. It was about the pain of your absence, the way it haunted him in ways he couldn’t ignore.

​​The sound of Drew’s voice echoed, dragging him back to earlier that day.

The call started off casual… until Drew’s tone shifted mid-sentence.

“Oh, yeah, we’re hitting that new bar tonight—” Drew began, only for Mia’s voice to cut in sharply from the background. “Drew!”

Joe frowned, catching the muffled sound of Mia hissing something he couldn’t make out. There was a pause, the sound of rustling, and then Drew’s voice returned, noticeably higher-pitched and nervous. “Uh, never mind. It’s not important.”

“What bar?” Joe asked, the question coming out sharper than he intended.

“It’s nothing, man,” Drew said quickly, his words tripping over themselves. “Just a thing Claire planned. Don’t worry about it.”

Joe’s brows furrowed, his grip on his phone tightening. “A thing? You’re being weird, Drew.”

“I’m not being weird!” Drew replied too fast. “Just… you know how the girls get when they’re planning stuff. Look, I've gotta go, man. I’ll talk to you later.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving Joe staring at the screen, unease prickling at him. Drew was hiding something. He was sure of it.

Later, after hours of the conversation looping endlessly in his mind, Joe finally bit the bullet and texted Drew.

Joe: What’s going on with this bar thing? Don’t lie to me.

The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared. Joe’s stomach churned as the seconds dragged on. Finally, a response came through.

Drew: It’s nothing serious. Just a casual thing.

Joe’s jaw clenched as he stared at the message. He tapped out a reply.

Joe: Who’s going?

Another long pause.

Drew: Me, Mia, Claire, Lily. A few others.

The answer was too vague, and Joe knew Drew well enough to recognize when he was dodging. His fingers flew over the keyboard.

Joe: Is she going?

The reply came faster this time.

Drew: Yeah. I think so.

He exhaled slowly, a knot forming in his stomach as the next question pressed forward, almost on instinct.

Joe: Why wouldn’t Mia want me to know?

Yet again, the typing bubble appeared, vanished, and then reappeared, as if mocking him with its cruel, drawn-out rhythm. Each second stretched unbearably until Drew’s response finally arrived.

Drew: Claire’s bringing some guy to meet her.

Joe stared at the screen. The words blurred as his mind raced, a thousand scenarios flashing through his head, none of them good.

Joe: What guy?

Drew: I don’t know. Just some friend of hers. She’s been hyping him up for a while.

Joe: You knew about this?

Drew: Not really. Mia didn’t tell me much. She didn’t want you to find out.

His thoughts spiraled, building into a picture he didn’t want to see but couldn’t ignore. He read it again, the weight of the implication sinking in.

That’s all it took.

Now, sitting in the quiet of his car, Joe leaned back against the headrest, his eyes slipping shut as memories crept in. Your laugh, bright and unrestrained, echoing like it belonged to the very fabric of the room. The nights you’d sat cross-legged on his couch, the furrow in your brow deepening as you stubbornly argued over which movie to watch — maddening, yet somehow the one of the most endearing things about you. And the way you’d looked at him, your gaze piercing, like you could see straight through every boundary he’d ever built.

It wasn’t new. None of it was. He’d always loved you. He could see that now, clear as day, and it had taken him far too long to accept it. Joe saw no point in fighting the pull of something that felt as natural as breathing.

The thought of walking into that bar, of seeing you standing there with someone else, made his head hurt in ways he didn’t want to explain. But it wasn’t just jealousy that drove him now. It wasn’t just the idea of someone else holding the space he wanted so desperately to claim. It was deeper than that.

It was the need to stop running. To tell you everything. Lay it all bare and let you decide what comes next, because the idea of losing you, not just as a possibility but as a certainty — was unbearable.

If he didn’t go in now, if he let this moment slip through his fingers, he knew he’d never forgive himself.

Joe opened his eyes, exhaling slowly as he reached for the door handle. The weight in his chest didn’t feel quite so suffocating anymore. It wasn’t gone, but it was manageable. For the first time in a long time, he felt grounded in who he was.

Because this time, he wasn’t running.

Joe entered the bar, weaving his way through as the crowd shifted and broke around him, creating a path he barely noticed. His mind raced with everything he wanted to say, but had no idea how to begin. 

He found his friends easily, and when he reached the table, the tension was immediate, a heavy cloud settling over the group.

Mia noticed first. Her expression softened, a mix of pity and quiet concern etched into her features. Drew, on the other hand, couldn’t even meet Joe’s gaze for more than a second. His back straightened like he’d been caught sneaking out past curfew, staring intently at his drink like it might save him from the confrontation brewing. Claire didn’t bother hiding her displeasure, her glare vicious. Predictably, she was the first to speak.

“Well, this is unexpected,” she said, her tone dripping with disdain. “What are you doing here, Joe?”

Joe didn’t even look at her. His focus was locked on Drew, the words tumbling out. “Where is she?”

Drew hesitated, glancing nervously at Mia, who gave him a pointed look that said; You got yourself into this. “Uh…” Drew stammered. “She’s at the bar.”

Joe didn’t wait for more. He turned on his heel, his movements purposeful as he wove back through the crowd toward the bar. Behind him, he could hear Claire muttering something under her breath, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was you.

And when Joe spotted you, he stopped just short of the bar, his eyes narrowing. You stood with one hand resting lightly on the counter, nodding at something the guy next to you was saying. Your lips curved into a faint smile, head tilted slightly, but something was off.

From a distance it might’ve looked like you were interested, though, Joe noticed the way your gaze drifted. Your tight-lipped smile didn’t reach your eyes and your attention flickered away, glancing toward the bottles behind the counter as if they were more interesting than the guy next to you. You were looking for a way out.

Joe shifted his weight, his attention snapping to the guy. He was… average. Polished in a way that felt like he was trying too hard. Neatly pressed shirt, carefully styled hair, and a smile that bordered on overconfident. Joe felt his jaw tighten. This is the guy Claire thinks you should be with? This is who she thinks is worth your time?

As he stopped just behind you, the guy’s voice drifted over. Something about the lighting in the bar, or maybe the music. It was mundane, predictable, and Joe smirked. He wasn’t surprised you weren’t invested. Of course you’re bored, he thought. This guy’s got the personality of a waiting room.

Joe tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening as he caught the guy’s words falter mid-sentence. He hadn’t even spoken yet, but his presence alone was already throwing the guy. Before Joe could step closer, you turned, your gaze following the guy’s faltering focus.

And then you saw him.

Your eyes locked with his, and for a fleeting second, everything else seemed to fall silent. Joe paused as he took in the way your expression shifted. Surprise, confusion, something else he couldn’t quite place. He held your gaze, unflinching, his jaw tight as he tried to dissect the emotions screening across your face.

The soft glow of the bar lights cast a warm halo around you, catching in your hair and highlighting the faint furrow in your brow. Your lips parted slightly, like you were about to say something, but no words came.

Joe didn’t speak either, couldn’t speak. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from yours, the unspoken tension crackling between you like a live wire.

He let the moment stretch, another faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He finally stepped to your side, his voice cutting cleanly through the ambient noise that ebbed back in. “Don’t stop on my account,” he said, his tone smooth and laced with just enough edge to make his authority known.

His gaze flicked briefly to the guy before landing back on you. “Sounded like a real captivating conversation.”

The guy shifted uneasily, clearing his throat but offering no reply.

You? You just stared up at Joe, wide-eyed and silence.

For a moment, the world held its breath, leaving only the three of you in this precarious, unbalanced triangle.

Joe? Joe wasn’t about to let the balance tip away from him.

The turned toward Joe, the strain in his polite smile visible. “Uh… can I help you with something?”

Joe barely looked at him. “Not unless you plan on leaving,” he said, his attention fixing entirely on you once more. He didn’t miss the glint of something different in your eyes — annoyance, perhaps, or was it relief? His voice dropped, leaning just close enough for you to hear over the noise.

“We need to talk.”

You hesitated, your hand tightening slightly on the edge of the bartop. “Now?”

Joe nodded, his tone leaving no room for debate. “Yeah. Now.”

You glanced briefly at the guy, his mouth opening like he wanted to say something, maybe intervene. But Joe’s glare sliced through whatever courage he might have been mustering. He thought twice, shoulders stiffening as his hands lifted in a silent gesture of surrender.

With a small nod — whether it was understanding or reluctant resignation, Joe couldn’t be sure — the guy stepped back and turned, making his way through the crowd toward the table where the others sat. Joe caught a brief glimpse of Mia’s unsure frown and Drew’s poorly concealed grimace, but he didn’t pay mind to them.

He didn’t care.

His focus was locked entirely on you.

“Let’s go,” he said.

You hesitated, glancing between him and the group at the table. “But, Joe—”

“Now,” he repeated, cutting you off. There was no bite in his tone, but the urgency was impossible to ignore.

Without another word, Joe reached for your wrist. His touch was firm but not rough as he turned toward the exit, his grip guiding you to the exit. You followed without protest, your steps quickening to keep pace with his long strides.

Joe caught the faint shiver that passed through you the moment the cool night air hit your faces. He didn’t stop, didn’t loosen his grip on your wrist, but his stride slowed just enough for you to keep up.

The rowdiness of the bar gradually faded behind you, replaced by the whir of traffic and the occasional burst of muffled laughter from people on the streets. Joe kept moving, leading you past the glowing streetlamps and the lingering smokers, until he turned sharply into a narrow alleyway.

As soon as he stopped, he let go of your wrist, stepping back as if to put space between his own chaotic emotions and you. The alley was dim, the faint light from a singular light nearby casting jagged shadows against the brick walls. Joe faced you, his shoulders rigid, jaw set. His lips parted, but the words didn’t come immediately.

“Well?” you demanded, your voice clipped. “You dragged me out here. Are you going to say something, or should I just head back?”

Joe’s brow furrowed, the bite in your tone stinging more than it should have. He exhaled hard through his nose, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface of his otherwise steady demeanor. “Why were you with him?”

“Why do you care?” you fired back, chin lifting.

“I asked first.” His voice was short now, mirroring yours.

“And I’m asking why it matters,” you countered, your head tilting slightly as you took a step closer.

“Because it does!” The words came out harsher than he intended, bouncing off the narrow walls of the alley. His hand dragged through his hair, tugging at the roots in a futile attempt to soothe the building headache. “It matters because I couldn’t stand seeing you with him. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Your eyes widened, your weight shifting as if the force of his words had pushed you back. “What do you mean, ‘couldn’t stand it’? Since when do you care who I’m with?”

Joe glanced away, his jaw clenching tightly as he fought the impulse to retreat. His hands flexed at his sides, the memory of the guy’s too-eager grin still gnawing at the edges of his self-control. “Since always,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the ground.

You scoffed, the sound disbelieving as you shook your head. “That’s a convenient thing to say now.”

The bitterness in your voice hit like a low blow. Joe flinched, his fingers curling into fists at his sides as the frustration boiled over. 

He paused. “Just… seeing you with him tonight—” His voice wavered, the words stalling as if they physically pained him to say. His breath hitched, each syllable dragging itself out, “I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

Your arms loosened slightly, the edge in your expression and voice easing enough to make him pause. “Ignore what, Joe?”

The words hung unavoidably in the silence between you. Joe’s eyes lifted to meet yours, searching for something he wasn’t sure he wanted to give. Vulnerability clawed at him, splintering the guarded facade he’d clung to so desperately — but there was no point in hiding anymore.

“Joe,” you prompted again, this time so softly it was almost a whisper.

He stepped closer, his chest brushing against the faint edge of your crossed arms. “Just tell me,” he said, his voice lower now, tainted with desperation. His arms twitched, like they wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. “Tell me it doesn’t matter to you. Tell me you want to go back to him, to anyone, and I’ll walk away. But if it’s not him, if there’s even the smallest part of you that feels—” His voice broke slightly, and he swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. “Just say it. Please.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Joe’s gaze stayed fixed on you, his lungs feeling tight as if he’d forgotten how to breathe, the seconds stretching unbearably. Then, slowly, you shook your head, the motion subtle but certain.

“It’s not him,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joe exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of relief so intense it felt like it might crush him. His pulse still hounded in his ears, but it wasn’t chaos, it was clarity.

Of course it’s not him. He’d known it before he asked, before you even shook your head. Joe knew you, and he knew that guy wasn’t you. Could never be. The realization settled inside him, carrying a flicker of hope so bright it nearly hurt to hold.

He didn’t realize he’d stumbled closer until he caught a faint whiff of your perfume, the scent pulling him in like it always did. You were so close now, he could feel the faint warmth of your breath brushing his skin.

“Okay,” Joe rasped, his voice uneven. He cleared his throat, using his hands to shake the nerves before bringing them together in front of him. His knuckles cracked softly as he flexed them, his fingers fidgeting in an unconscious rhythm. He took a deep breath to compose himself.

“Okay, wait. I— there’s something I need to say. And I’m probably going to screw it up, because that’s just what I do, but I need to say it anyway.”

You didn’t respond, just looked at him, waiting. Joe placed his hands on his hips, “I didn’t plan this. Hell, I didn’t even plan on being here tonight. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay away. Not after Drew told me what Claire was doing. Especially not after seeing you sitting with him, talking to him.”

A bitter laugh slipped out, self-directed and harsh. “And I know, I know I don’t have any right to feel like that. I’ve been distant. A dick. Call it whatever you want. But the truth is… I couldn’t handle it. You. Us. All of it. Because every time I was near you, I felt like I was standing too close to something I didn’t know how to handle.”

Joe hesitated, his throat constricting, his next words quieter, spoken with effort. “But it wasn’t the kind of edge you run from. It was the kind you jump off. Because being around you — being near you, it’s like nothing else fits. Nothing else makes sense. And I’m so goddamn tired of pretending it’s anything else.”

He let the words settle between you, the meaning of them filling the air. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.

“I love you,” he said finally, the words falling between you like they’d been waiting there all along. “I’ve loved you for a long time. Maybe longer than I’ve even let myself admit. But I was too scared to say it. I was too scared of screwing it all up and losing the best thing I’ve ever had.”

Joe’s gaze stayed locked on yours, unflinching, his body tensing like he wanted to close the space between you. “But tonight, thinking of you with someone else… it hit me. I’m not scared of losing you anymore. I’m scared of not trying. Of letting you walk away without knowing how much you mean to me.”

His breath hitched, the final words trembling on his lips. “So, yeah. That’s it. That’s what I needed to say.”

The air felt heavy, thick with everything he’d just admitted. For a moment, you simply stared at him, your lips parting as if to say something, but no sound came. 

The confession curled in the air between you. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything more, as if he’d laid everything he had at your feet and was now waiting, bracing, for what you would do with it. 

His eyes locked onto yours, and for the briefest moment, he thought he caught it: a flicker of a smile, faint but unmistakable. Like maybe, just maybe, you were about to let him in. Joe’s heart jumped in anticipation.

You opened your mouth—

Flash!

The blinding light sliced through the moment, echoing through the stillness of the alleyway, leaving quiet in tatters.

Flash.

[ivysprophecy]

please please please

word count; 1644

summary; turning off your phone and shutting out the world isnt the best way to handle your problems but its what you do. and jjs had enough of it.

warnings; i dont think there is any? mentions of anxiety attacks? tagging @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

masterlist

prev. | next

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

"well hey there stranger"

i turn from my book to look behind me, seeing the boy id been actively avoiding for the past two days. carrying his surf board.

i shouldve remembered he'd come here to surf. i just wouldn't have guessed this early in the morning.

"hey jayj."

"oh thats all i get? 'hey'? no 'i miss you so much'?" he sets his board in the sand taking a seat next to me on my blanket.

guess im not finishing my book today. "oh my god jj! youre here! ive been dyingggg to talk to you! i cant believe youre really in here in the flesh! there. better?"

"oh dont be like that- cmon mama whatd i do?" i feel bad with the genuine concern on his face.

okay was ghosting him out of nowhere awful of me? probably. i just didnt know what else to do.

after that night at the bonfire i realized that with my feelings for him growing it wasnt a good idea for us to continue our casual... something. it played with both our emotions. it isnt fair to either of us.

especially after his 'i love you'. that really did it in for me.

"you didnt do anything jj. trust. i just... ive been in a funk. needed some me time thats all."

"well... do you still need your 'me time'?" he looked so hopeful. how could i say yes? where jj maybank is concerned ill easily fold every time. "cause you havent answered my texts so i couldn't ask you to surf with me this morning."

"... i dont have my board. but i suppose i can hang out with you for a little while."

"im honored," he smiles laying back on his elbows, "but really. are you good? i like to think i know you pretty well and this whole MIA thing was not normal."

turning to face him more, i sigh, what the fuck am i supposed to say? 'yea im just so in love with you i cant be around you' yea that would go over really well.

"i dont know. just gotta lot of stuff goin on. you dont have to worry though. im good."

"well do ya wanna talk about it?"

"trust me jay you dont wanna hear about my problems. theyre trivial at best."

"what are friends for if not for listening?" he nudges me with his shoulder urging me to talk. i really dont think i can do this. i was not prepared.

"youre not a very good listener," i point out, to which he immediately takes faux offense. jaw dropped and everything.

"oh thats just not true! i can listen!"

i run a hand through my tangled hair in frustration. this cannot be how i tell him. it just cant. i came here to get away from thinking about this and now hes right here in front of me acting so unserious while im spiraling.

"jj i really appreciate how eager you are to help me but its really not necessary. i didnt really prepare myself and its just too much-"

"prepare yourself? mama what the fuck are you talking about? does this have to do with that night after the bonfire? i mean obviously it does who am i kidding you havent talked to me since then. did i do something wrong? was- was it bad?" he leans in closer, lowering his voice thats laced with worry and guilt.

oh my god that is the absolute last thing i expected him to say. shit i really fucked this up. and honestly just not true.

"what? no! no jj you didnt do anything wrong and it was perfect. promise," i try to reassure him but i know deep down hes gonna over think this whole thing if i dont tell him straight up

i may love him but i never said he was the brightest in the bunch.

"okay so whats the problem?"

"the problem is that it was perfect," i cant help but let out a sigh before hiding my face in my hands as the words leave my mouth.

god my heart is racing, im not ready for this conversation. maybe if i pass out i wont have to. yea if he has to call an ambulance then we can avoid this all together. but an ambulance is also like five grand so...

shit.

"... youre mad at me because you had a good time?" his face contorted in a weird fixture of confusion.

"no! no- god youre so dense sometimes!"

"mama i dont have a fucking clue what youre saying! how does that make me stupid??"

i hide my face in my hands again trying to compose myself because what the fuck kind of confession is this?

"jj im avoiding you because ive been developing feelings for you and i cannot in good conscience keep being so casual with you and sleeping with you knowing this and i know that you do not want anything serious so i figured id just make it easier for the both of us and just take myself out of the situation entirely so that nothing bad happens and i cannot stop fucking talking so please for the love of god say something or do something because i feel like my heart is about to beat out of my chest and-"

oh my god im getting my book moment. he just kissed me to make me stop talking!!! oh my god hes kissing me.

is this where i kiss him back?

of course i kiss him back!! what the fuck!!? and oh my lord does it feel nice, so so so nice.

the way his tongue presses against mine, the way he cups my jaw and pulls me close to him. it was slow and confident and loving and everything he knows i like. his hands find my hips like muscle memory, pulling our bodies together, eventually having me on his lap. where he takes my hands and places them on his chest so i can feel his chest rise and fall with deep breaths.

“… mama you need to learn to breathe.”

“that’s not funny right now jj. im actively having an anxiety attack, horrible thing to say really."

"what're you so anxious about? i think we're havin' a pretty calm conversation, dont you?"

"i mean yea- but thats not-" he interrupts me while shaking his head with a shrug.

"listen, i get why youre a little nervous to say that, all things considered. but i thought it was pretty obvious i was into you, i just didnt wanna push you because you made your boundaries clear so i just took what i could get."

my eyes bug out of my head in shock. am i the dense one? i mean yea hes a really good kisser and i can feel he cares deeply about me when we do stuff and makes me feel safe and supported but that doesnt mean-

yea im stupid. he all but outright said it. actually he has. thats what started this panic.

"... okay yea- maybe. but you agreed they were a good idea so i figured that meant you wanted them there too. and i dont know- it just kind of got overwhelming and i didnt wanna be one of those girls who expects something huge after sex so... you know what i mean? and truthfully youre not what i expected for me."

"what does that mean?" his face showed a little offense.

"i just mean- ya know. for one i didnt expect to love my best friend. and then on top of that i didnt think id love a guy who was a treasure hunting, or- adrenaline junkie i should say."

he leans back putting some space between us, "is that supposed to be a bad thing?

"no! no jay im not saying this right- i-... youre a fighter and youre adventurous- a lot of things im not. if that makes sense. all im sayin is a few years ago i wouldnt have expected to be here. but i like it here. love it here even," i smile at him teasingly trying to ease his worries. the last thing i need is to say the wrong thing right now.

"so what youre saying is that you love me?"

"youre such an idiot."

'but do ya? because i think you do mama."

i roll my eyes chuckling, "yea. yea i do maybank," i press a small kiss to his cheek leaning back into him.

"does this mean youll let me make you a maybank mama?" his eyebrow was quirked up as he teases his question.

"lets not get ahead of ourselves. how about we take this slow?"

he looks down at my button up shirt i was wearing over my bikini to shield me from the ocean breeze, and i could tell he was debating taking it off of me. giving me that same look he always does.

"slow? mama i dont think we're gonna be too good at that."

"all 'm sayin is we dont have to jump the gun, we both admitted it, doesnt mean we gotta change the way we act or announce it or nothing. we can just enjoy this ourselves ya know?"

"you embarrassed of me mama?"

"not at all baby, just want you all to myself. is that too much to ask for?"

he shakes his head leaning up against me, our faces inches apart, "nah i dont think so. i like the sound of that."

i meet him the rest of the way pressing his lips to mine, smiling into it. pulling him as close as humanly possible. i need him under mind skin, in my blood, you know?

"i do too, so we agree? we'll keep this between us for now?"

"whatever you want mama. yes maam."

[mikeysonly]

White Lies Part 2 - Nagi Seishiro

♡ you guys wanted a part 2 so here u go hehe. ive never gotten requests for a part 2 before so i hope it lived up to ur expectations. idk if i should make this into a series or what. give me more suggestions and ill try to fill up your requests <3

part 1 here

~

“Can I walk you home?”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

Nagi scratched the back of his neck. “I mean… Maybe we can just catch up.”

She hesitated. She was still trying to figure him out, but after a moment, she nodded.

“Okay.”

The walk was quiet at first.

Haruto kicked his soccer ball along the pavement, pausing once in awhile to pick it up when it rolled too far. Nagi watched, hands shoved in his pockets, his mind running in clumsy circles.

Haruto sighed dramatically and muttered, “This is tiring.” Nagi knew that line. He used it all the time.

“…Huh?” Nagi glanced at him.

Haruto flopped against a streetlamp. “Walking is boring. I wanna just teleport home.”

Nagi blinked.

His stomach felt odd, something between amusement and disbelief. He looked over at Y/N, who was covering her mouth, trying not to laugh.

“He’s… a lot like you,” she said, amused but soft.

Nagi didn’t know how to respond to that. So he just shrugged and looked away.

Haruto, clearly impatient, pushed himself off the streetlamp and went back to kicking the ball ahead of him.

After a few more steps, Nagi sighed and muttered, “Here.”

Haruto turned just in time for Nagi to gently flick the ball with his foot, sending it rolling toward him in a perfect pass.

Haruto caught it with his foot, blinking. Then, without missing a beat, he kicked it back, wobbly, unsteady, but it wasn't too bad.

Something about that made Nagi’s lips twitch upward, just a little.

He kicked it again.

Haruto kicked it back.

And just like that, they kept going, small, slow passes as they walked. It felt… Natural?

Y/N chuckled softly. “Okay, Haruto, let’s hurry up. You need a bath.”

Haruto groaned but didn’t argue, scooping up the ball before trudging ahead toward their apartment building.

Nagi followed them to the entrance, stopping a few steps behind. He could’ve left then. Probably should’ve. But for some reason, his feet didn’t move.

Y/N lingered too, turning to him once Haruto disappeared through the front door.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Regardless of how loud the city hummed behind them, it felt quiet. It was quiet.

Nagi stared down at his drink, tilting the can slightly in his hand, his mind slow but heavy. Anything not to look at her in the eyes.

Y/N exhaled, crossing her arms as she leaned against the railing. “…So.”

Nagi glanced up.

She hesitated, “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Yeah,” Nagi muttered. “Me neither.”

Another pause. This wasn’t something he was good at, talking about things. Confronting things. But even so, he stayed.

Y/N studied him for a moment, before her gaze softened just a little. “You okay?”

It wasn’t an easy question. Not one he could answer with just a shrug.

Was he okay? He didn’t know. His life had been simple. He liked simple. But now, there was a five year old with his face and his habits and his lazy attitude, and suddenly, things weren’t simple anymore.

And yet…

“…He’s kinda cool,” Nagi murmured, surprising even himself.

Y/N blinked, before letting out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. He is.”

Nagi looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

A weird feeling sat in his chest. Not a bad one. Just different. Heavy, but not so heavy he wanted to run and hide like he always did.

He could leave now. Go home. Go back to his usual routine.

But he didn’t want to.

“So uh…What are you guys doing this weekend?” The words left his mouth before he could even think about what he was insinuating to her.

Y/N raised a brow. “Why?”

Nagi shrugged, still avoiding her gaze. “…Dunno. Might come over.”

Y/N stared at him. Processing.

Then, she smiled. Just barely, but it was there.

“…Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nagi muttered, “If that’s okay.”

Y/N tilted her head. But instead of pressing, she just said, “It’s okay.”

And for the first time tonight, Nagi let himself relax.

“…Cool.”

Y/N shook her head with a small laugh before stepping inside. “Goodnight, Nagi.”

He watched the door close behind her.

But even without her standing before him, he didn't feel like leaving yet.

So he stayed for just a few more seconds, staring at the door, before he finally decided to walk home, his mind already stuck on Saturday.

taglist: @nensi @topshotdivaa @mochiii-sama @exclusiverinaa @aztec-ahuizotil @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @kawaisagi

[serejae]

I CARRY IT WITH ME EVERYDAY | BND

pairing : bnd x reader

genre : fluff

WHAT ! - bnd and the orange peel theory (warnings kissing, petnames and cursing (maybe idk) this was suppose to be short but leehan had to ruin it...(JK)

wc : 1276 | @onedoornet @miidorei

SUNGHO :

-pls are you kidding me?

-him and taesan are the kings of acts of service, but i feel like he'll have a different approach

-you guys know (or have) those dads who hear one single thing about you liking something then buy like 27 of them?

-thats sungho, any fixation you have trust, he's the backbone of it providing for it

"ugh recently the stores have such good oranges" you said as you ate the peeled orange sungho had peeled for you. the second you grabbed the orange he took it from you and started peeling it despite your whines of how you could peel it yourself. either way, you appreciated the action and thanked him. "what store did you go to?" he asked while on his phone "the one near our house" you peacefully said while munching on the orange you heard him hum. the next day you woke up the kitchen filled with bags of oranges as well as a sungho standing there peeling each one. running up to him you questioned why your guy's kitchen was radiating the color orange, he shrugged grinning a bit, and continued peeling. you grabbed one to try and help to which he grabbed it out of your hand. "i don't want your pretty hands getting orangey" he smiled kissing your forehead (have yall seen that man peel a apple…?)

RIWOO :

-it comes to him naturally

-the first time he saw you with anything you had to peel, shrimp, crab, mangoes, he swore to himself you would never have to get your hands dirty again.

-he tries to make it fun for you both, as he listens to you talk he focuses on making the peel of the orange pretty

-so then he has a gift to give to you

you held the orange in your hand as you spoke moving it around. his eyes were focused on the orange as he was listening to you, so he grabbed the orange while still listening to you talk. as you continued speaking he started peeling the orange being delicate with the skin as he slowly peeled some edges. he nodded, hummed, and let out little "yeah's" as he listened to you tell the story that he's probably heard 200 times but he doesn't care. you're telling it to HIM. suddenly he hands you the peeled orange and holds up the peel which was in one piece. now this was his favorite part of peeling any orange for you, you have to guess what the peel was. "bird?" "nope" "flower?" "i already did that" "bird?" "bird" "that's a horrible bird riwoo" "HUH?"

JAEHYUN :

-ugh sighed just thinking about it (nicely)

-he's 163 steps ahead of you

-dont even bother asking for him to peel a orange cause this loser is peeling everything for you the second you ask for a orange

-he comes back with a peeled, diced, cut fruit platter, where'd he get the fruits from in such a short time? idk..

"you know what ive been craving recently baby?" you spoke up as he lay on ur shoulder scrolling on his phone. humming in response he looked up at you "some oranges for the hot summers seem so refreshing don't you-" he cut you off by leaving the room leaving you there '??? rude?'. he comes back in 7 minutes and 29 seconds with a colorful plate. full of red, orange, yellow, green, blue(?), pink, and purple fruits. he smiled as he showed you like a kid showing their parent their artwork, he noticed your silent shock and went "ta-da!" you tried to remember where you guys had this fruit lying around to realize you didn't..." thank you so much jae, where'd you get this fruit from? so quickly too?" he just smiled cheekily "i have my ways" he sat by you and fed you the fruits piece by piece with no complaints.

TAESAN :

-act of service man p2

-if he even heard a LICK of you craving, liking, or wanting something trust, you will have it 12 hours later on the clock.

-it doesn't matter how he heard it, he just did now he needs to deliver for the love of his life

-this man would fight SEAS OF PEOPLE just to get you what you want and act like it wasn't that big of a deal

as taesan made his way to your shared room to ask you a question he heard your conversation with your friend. he didn't mean to eavesdrop but he heard you say "you know what I've been craving recently?" and he had to listen. he was legally obligated to. taesan heard you talk about those juicy oranges, the ehime jelly oranges, were the oranges at where he was? no. was he going to get those oranges? yeah. don't ask, but he managed to get the oranges, did it cost him an arm and a leg to get it in 12 hours? duh, but it was worth it. he was sitting on the couch on his phone waiting for you to wake up to see the oranges sitting on the dining table, when you did you walked out to see a box on the table. "whose this for min?" you asked opening the box realizing its oranges. "you" he said smiling at your reaction when you realize. "are these...?" he nods and gets off the couch to cut the oranges and scoop the inside out to feed to you (i don't think you can peel these kinds of oranges sorry!!)

LEEHAN :

-mister listener overhere...

-once he realizes youve been craving oranges he tries to ask you questions but not too many to get you the perfect orange

-he doesnt wanna ruin the surprise but he has to make sure it fits your standard

-once he got all the information he needs, he's on a mission and will. he will be nonchalant about it when he picks the perfect orange.

"why have you been watching videos of oranges on repeat..." leehan asked behind you as you rested your head on his chest "they just look...so good." you sighed feeling your mouth water at the video of the perfect orange. "its so perfect, the color to the size, i mean can anything be more perfect?" you asked sitting up turning over to leehan, he nodded "I'm looking at something more perfect than a stupid orange right now" he smiled. you laughed at his line "thank you but these oranges aren't stupid" he nodded "how do you pick a perfect one?" he put his phone down and listened intensively. the next day he was the first one at the grocery store just in case some sucker had the same plan as him, to get the perfect orange for their perfect lover. well too bad for them because leehan was there first. anyways, leehan stood there for a while keeping your advice in his head, 'it must be soft, but not too soft that makes it bad. it has to be firm, but not too firm or else the flavor is gone. it has to be big, for the value but cant be too big because that takes all the flavor. it has to be small, but not too small that's too sweet.' your voice kept repeating in this head until- ah ha! the perfect one. now he needs to find 6 more. as he got home with his 7 (hopefully) perfect oranges he starts peeling. you woke up to see leehan walk into your room with a plate of peeled oranges. "woah.." you muttered, they were so vibrant. you tried one and hummed in satisfaction. "howd you pick one so perfect?" you asked him, and he grinned "idunno"

[themultifandomgal]

Hey I got a request for peaky blinders

So basically tommy is a single dad to a girl she is 2 years old and you got you was I’ll and tommy was in a meeting and you was bored she u walk. In and tommy yelled at you So you run off and started crying you find John and Arthur and told they what happened how u was I’ll and they find tommy to tell him he was a dick about yelling at you then he told u he was sorry

Hope that make sense x

Tommy Shelby- Just Want To Protect You

I hope this is what you wanted.

YN and Tommy haven’t been dating all that long, she knew he was a single dad and his daughter, Mary, came first no matter what. YN also knew that he was a dangerous man, but she didn’t care. To her Tommy was a caring man who loved his family (even if he didn’t show it), all he wanted to do was keep YN and his daughter safe.

Unfortunately Mary had been ill with a cold the last week so while Tommy was in meetings YN would take on the roll of looking after her, however today YN woke up feeling rough. She has a headache, stuffy nose and scratchy throat, but still being a mother figure to the young girl YN takes on the task of looking after her and and house while Tommy is in his office working.

“I want daddy”

“I know” YN replies bouncing the crying girl in her arms “but daddy is busy. Why don’t you take a nap. You might feel better and when you wake up, daddy might be finished”

“Ok” Mary sniffles snuggling into YN’s neck. YN takes Mary to her bedroom and puts her down. She stays with Mary until she’s asleep. Feeling rough herself she decides to go and have a nap herself, however due to her blocked nose and now cough, YN gives up after half an hour.

Making her way down stairs she decides to make herself and Tommy a cup of tea. Feeling bored YN knocks on Tommys office door before walking in

“Hi love, I made you a drink” YN says walking in placing the tea on his desk, Tommy just grunts in response “Mary is asleep, still has this awful cold. I said maybe once she wakes up you’d be finished with work”

“And why would you tell her that?” Tommy looks up to YN

“I just thought that you could have a break, you can sit in your chair and work all the time. Mary misses you”

“I can’t just stop working because Mary wants me to”

“I’m not saying that. You’ve been in here since 6 this morning. It’s now 1 and you’ve not had a break or anything to eat”

“I can’t”

“Fine. Guess I’ll be looking after your sick child all day again”

“I didn’t ask you to”

“Then who will? Your to busy with you fucking businesses to even notice that she’s been crying for you this morning”

“Don’t you swear at me!” Tommy yells standing up “Mary isn’t even your daughter so if she’s so much of a bother why don’t you just go!” Feeling taken back YN takes in what Tommy just said

“Fine” YN replies keeping her tears back.

Asking one of the maids to keep an eye on Mary, YN leaves the house and makes her way to the Garrison where she sees Arthur and John

“YN” John waves his brothers girlfriend over

“Hi” she sadly says

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s our brother done this time?” Arthur sighs

“It’s just that, I don’t feel well but ive been taking care of his daughter who’s also ill. When I told him to have a break from work he just blew up”

“Our brother is an idiot YN, I’ll speak with him” John replies

“No don’t. He will know I’ve spoken to you and he will probably have a fit. I’m gonna get a drink”

That evening YN sits her home with a book in her hands, when there is a knock at her door. Putting her book down she heads over feeling confused to who could be at her front door. Opening it up there is Tommy holding flowers in his hands

“I’m a dick I know. I’m sorry”

“You better come in” YN opens up her door wider so Tommy could enter “where’s Mary?”

“At home. Ada has her. I know I shouldn’t have shouted at you, your ill and been looking after my daughter. You didn’t have to but you did. I just get so scared when it comes to you and Mary. I just want to keep you safe and we have a problem with the business. I didn’t want you involved, I didn’t want to worry you”

“Tom, I’m your girlfriend. If we want this to work you can’t shut me out”

“I know I know. Arthur and John knocked some sense into me. Let me make it up to you. Let me cook supper for you. Treat you like a queen”

“I’d like that” YN smiles.

[erwinsvow]

ive been rereading ur bitchy reader stuffs n pleek do more of the pope cameo.. HER SAYING DICK APPT WHEN RAFE COMPLAINED ABT HER HAVING POPES NUMBER MADE ME GIGGLE OUT LOUD pretty please give us more of them 🤲

i imagine her being pissed off at rafe so she keeps giving him the cold shoulder and when he asks something she’d just go “maybe i should’ve gone to heywards instead he wont treat me like this 🙄” BUT ITS SO FUNNY KNOWING SHE DOESNT LIKE POGUES !!!!

LMFAOOO THIS IS KILLING ME!! one thing about my readers, their secret pogue crush is always gonna be pope <3

one thing you had in common with rafe—despite the glaring differences that were so hard to ignore—was that you both didn't care much for pogues.

that was putting it lightly, rafe despised them and you just didn't like them. but some were more tolerable than others—for example, the maybank boy who seemed to you the equivalent of a toddler with sticky hands versus pope heyward, who used to tutor in math. you don't know why or how they're friends, just that you like pope enough to be friendly, or rather polite, and you definitely don't like maybank enough to even think about him.

rafe didn't like any of them, and you didn't really care. you weren't in the habit of defending pogues, and certainly not when you were constantly trying to remind sarah to stay away from them, even though she never listened.

but seeing how angry rafe seemed to get at the mere mention was enough to give you some ideas. when you had jokingly—although now you remember you hadn't really ever clarified—said that you had pope's number because of dick appointments, rafe had gotten so angry it had resulted in the best sex of your life.

you were curious to know what else you could get out of it. unfortunately, your curiosity didn't last for very long. rafe pissed you off just as much as you pissed him off, and though these thoughts were often in one ear and out the other for you.

like today. you had been waiting for twenty whole minutes at the club for rafe, who had insisted he would be on time even though you knew he would probably run late since he was coming from barry's—all the way across town.

all he had to do was admit it, and you would have come later, but instead he had told you to show up at noon and that he wasn't going to be late.

normally you would show up at half past and just tell him to fuck off, but if he really was on time you would never hear the end of it. so you showed up on time and waited... and waited.

rafe finally shows up about forty minutes later, and you stare at him with your signature look—eyes rolling back, an i-told-you-so expression with arms crossed. you could make it more withering if you wanted, but right now you just wanted to hear rafe admit he was wrong.

"shut the fuck up," he says, taking a seat the table. your half drunken diet coke has left a ring of condensation, and you move the cup towards you, wondering how you'd become the kind of girl that waits forty minutes for a guy to show up.

"first of all, i didn't even say anything. second of all, you shut the fuck up. i'm the one who was forty-fucking-minutes late."

"it took longer-"

"longer than you thought? yeah, i said that. yesteday."

"well m'here now, so just order."

you huff, scanning the menu and not sure exactly what retort to use. instead you settle for shutting up entirely, not speaking to rafe the entire time. the waitress comes and goes, the food comes and goes, and you look up when rafe speaks but don't say anything back.

rafe thinks you'll give it up once lunch is over, but you grew up in a household where an hour of silent treatment is child's play. so the car ride to tannyhill, throughout the movie you put on and when you walk away to make popcorn, you haven't said a word.

while the movie credits roll, you look down at your phone, waiting for your apology and deciding when to leave if you don't get it.

"are you seriously gonna ignore me the entire day?"

you stare at rafe, not answering. this is your withering look.

"fine, princess. your choice," rafe shrugs. "finally got you to shut up for once."

you take a moment for his words to really hit you. like any other girl in the world, that comment from your boyfriend hurts a little. it even stings. you don't like the words in the air and you can even tell it left a bitter taste in rafe's mouth. he looks like he's just realizing he overstepped a little. then, for the first time since you saw rafe that day, you speak.

"you know, it's a good thing i didn't delete heyward's number from my phone. times like this i realize how handy it can be."

"what the fuck is th-"

"i mean, really, rafe. even these pogues you hate so much would treat me better than you do. i should go call him up now-"

"okay, princess i get it-"

"bet he'd probably fuck me better than-"

"okay, enough. jesus, i get it. m'sorry, okay? can you knock it off now?"

"i'm not knocking anything off. and you can go fuck yourself if you can't apologize for a little thing like being late-"

"i'm sorry, okay? now can you stop talking about pope fuckin' heyward?" you huff, finally a little pleased he apologized.

"thank you. was that so hard?"

"oh shut up-"

"you shut up. and don't be late again. or i'll show you fuckin' heyward-"

"enough!"

[lingeringdesires505]

maybe its for the best

rin itoshi x reader

angst

rin can’t stop blaming himself, he knows hes at fault, that hes the reason the two of you had broken up. rin’s life mainly revolved around soccer, until he met you. all his life, his only goal was to beat his brother, itoshi sae, and show him how he too could be good at soccer. little did he know, he would be so caught up in his obsession with competing against his brother would ruin a relationship he had cherished so much.

28 April, 10.58 p.m.

The night you two broke up, it was after one of his late night trainings. despite being tired and burnt out, he still stayed back after training, pushing himself to his limit, in hopes that his skill would be up to par with his brother’s.

you laid in your shared bed with him, wondering when he would come home. his soccer training should have ended at 9 p.m., yet he was still not home. seeing the clock almost striking 11, you became more and more worried about your lover. you had sent him multiple texts, but none were read.

“he must be staying back after training again,” you thought to yourself. despite the constant reminders not to overexert himself, and that he should rest more, rin never listened to you. he would either brush you off, saying it was no big deal and that he wasnt tired, or just ignore you. you understood that he was feeling lots of stress especially with the upcoming soccer match, but you just couldnt stand there and see him destroy himself like this. it certainly wasnt healthy and beneficial for his physical or mental health.

as you reached the stadium, you saw a familiar figure doing his routines.

“rin! ive been worried about you. its already 11 p.m., you should come home and rest!” you called out to him as you ran towards him.

“ just a few more minutes…im almost done. after im done, we can go home, okay? “ he said without looking back to you.

as much as you wanted to let him finish, you could already tell he was extremely tired. the sweat running down his forehead and muscles, the heavy panting that you knew all to well — he was already pushing his limits, if you were to let him continue, he might over exhaust himself, doing more harm than good to his body.

“ rinnie, please, youre at your limit already, please just stop! youre going to hurt yourself at this rate! “ you begged him to stop, but he wouldnt listen. tears started to well up in your eyes as you grew more and more anxious, why wouldnt he just stop hurting himself like this and listen to you?

it wasnt long before rin snapped.

“do you really think im that weak?! besides, what i do to my own body is none of your business! youre just another obstacle in the way of my success, just leave me alone you lukewarm piece of shit, god damn it!” he shouted, his eyes filled with anger as he finally looked over to you.

that was when he realised he fucked up.

his heart ached as he saw hot tears streaming down your red cheeks. no, wait, he didnt mean it!

“please baby, wait, i didnt mean it. im so sorry i said that, please..” he immediately stopped what he was doing to run towards you, forcefully hugging you, frantically apologising.

you didnt say anything. you couldnt say anything. you were in disbelief — the man that you had loved with all your heart, the man that you cared for so deeply, wanted you to leave him alone? was this truly the way he felt about you? just an obstacle? a lukewarm piece of shit?

“baby please, i didnt mean any of that… its all my fault, i know you want the best for me. forgive me please… please, say something!” this time, rin was the one of the verge of tears.

“so that’s how you feel about me?… you want me to leave you alone?…” you managed to stutter out, trying hard not to start bawling on the spot. how could he say something so hurtful?

“fine. if that’s how you want it, dont contact me ever again rin, it’s over between us.”

you ran back to your car before rin could react and slammed the door shut, driving off to your shared apartment to pack your things and move out. you weren’t just angry, you were upset.

you couldnt believe this was how your relationship with rin was going to end. you always thought of rin as someone you would continue to love and care for, someone you would grow old with.

that night, rin laid on the grass in the stadium, looking up at the night sky, head filled with regrets, heart aching.

present

was it really worth it? rin always asked himself. sure, he managed to show to his brother that his soccer skills were excellent, but that didnt make him happy. in fact, after the two of you had broken up, nothing made him happy. how could he be happy without you? he was struggling to even live a day without you.

rin would spend countless sleepless nights scrolling through his photo gallery, looking at photos you had forced him to take with you. the poor man couldnt even sleep without your scent. he would often try and find old articles of clothing you had left behind around the house — it was the only way he could sleep, with your scent.

he would spend many hours training, even if there wasnt any upcoming matches. he was desperate to find any sort of distraction to distract himself from thinking about you.

some nights after training, he prayed that you would still be there outside the stadium, waiting to drive him home. he prayed that he could see you again, hear your sweet voice and hearty laugh again. he was so desperate to hear your voice again, he didnt care if he had to hear your nagging or your complaints, he just needed to hear you again, to see that pretty face of yours.

rin always thought about how foolish he was. before he met you, he felt that unfortunate things always happened to him. he always thought about how terrible and unlucky his life was. that was until he met you. you were like a blessing from heaven, an angel that came and brightened up his dull, lukewarm life. he wished he had known how to appreciate you earlier. if only he had opened his eyes and see how much you had loved and cared for him.

it feels like torture scrolling through your instagram page, seeing you move in with your new boyfriend, seeing you have dinner dates with him. he knows your new boyfriend treats you way better than he ever did, and he feels happy that your being taken good care of, but deep down, his heart was being ripped into shreds. it felt so wrong, but he couldnt stand the thought of you laughing, or smiling for another man. you were already moving on with life, getting ready to marry your boyfriend, and there was nothing he could do about it.

rin accepted that he could never be at peace with himself, especially since he had fucked up the only good thing in his life. it was too late for regrets, the only thing he could do now was make sure that you were safe and happy from afar.

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thank you for reading!

word count: 1.2k

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@lingeringdesires505 2024

[y-umiko]

TOKYOREV BOYS WHEN THEY WANT TO BREAK-UP TO PROTECT YOU

CHARACTER(S): Kazutora . Hanma . Baji WARNING/S: angst? A/N: Please don't be surprised if the writing seems different as it goes on, I wrote each one when i'm in different moods.

Kazutora

Kazutora watches with gritted teeth as the nurse patches you up after being rushed to the hospital. It was nothing serious just some cuts and bruises, but Kazutora can't be relieved, imagining the worse that could happen if didn't arrive in time.

He thought long and hard about it, being with him had made you a target for others. and if separating from you means your safety then he was willing to do it.

but you were having none of it, all it took was to see the dreaded expression on his face to know what was running on his head. after thanking the nurse, you sternly gave him your piece of mind.

"whatever it is that's running on your head, quit it" his eyes previously downcasted and staring at the floor, flickering towards you, "I haven't said anything yet"

"It's written all over your face" you sigh, watching his eyes drift away from yours. Kazutora felt incredibly guilty that he can't bear to look at your eyes.

he had done a lot of bad things in his life, maybe this was his punishment, maybe this was his karma, if it is, he doesn't want you getting the same burden, and maybe he was right.

"Maybe it's for the better that we - "

"No" you quickly cut him off, reaching over to hold his hand, which was incredibly warm, "Listen to me, This is not your fault alright? so don't go having any thought in that pretty head of yours"

Kazutora simply stared back at you, content with your hold on his hand. wondering that maybe he wasn't so bad in his previous life to be rewarded as precious as you.

he was brought back when he felt you squeeze his hand, "are we clear?"

"…yeah" he mumbled, gently leaning towards you and nuzzling his head on your shoulder, this time he'll protect you properly.

Hanma

Hanma knows nothing good comes out of being associated with him. but he was being greedy wanting to have you in his life, he thought he can protect you but how wrong he was.

and for the first time in his life, he didn't want to be selfish, for your sake and his peace of mind.

"so that's it, see you around" he casually bid goodbye, hands stuffed in his pocket, after explaining to you he's breaking up with you 'just because he felt like it'. if it was a normal day it would have hurt you, but you knew him too damn much to know he felt guilty for what happened.

"wait a damn fucking minute" you called after him but Hanma pretended not to hear you and continued walking out of your hospital room. but you were quick to your feet, getting out the bed and dragging the bag of IV with you to catch up with him.

"you can't just come here, say what you want and leave" Hanma momentarily stops in his tracks, an internal turmoil inside his head, a slight worry in his eyes seeing you get out of bed. but if his gonna do it, he has to stay strong, as he continued his way out, "I have nothing left to say"

"Well, I do and you better fucking listen" you voice out loudly than intended, making Hanma sigh as he stops in his tracks once again to give you another piece of his mind and say words he didn't mean but will hurt you so bad that you'll probably stay away from him for good.

"you're serious-"

however, all those words got eaten and forgotten as you came tackling him, arms tightly wrapped around him, and head buried on his chest.

"Don't leave me…please" you coaxed, voice calm and gentle but Hanma can feel the tremors coming from your body. if it was fear of him leaving or fear of the accident. he doesn't care, all he knew was you needed him and that someone has to pay.

"you're a pain in the ass"

As his reasons crumble the bastards who did this to you can enjoy the last hours of their life. meanwhile, he wanted to be a little bit more selfish, as long as you want him, he'll stay with you.

Baji

When Baji came to see you with bruises and some remnants of blood, you immediately knew what had transpired before him seeing you in the hospital.

Baji just can't seat around, he just had to let out his contained rage upon seeing you all bloodied and bruised because of him. and amid the chaos of exchanging fists, he had a thought. his life had always been full of danger and will probably be more dangerous as the Tokyo Manji Gag expands.

he was sure enemies would come swarming towards him and normally that would have thrilled him. but after some careful thought, he wasn't alone anymore, the more enemies he made the more dangerous it become for you and he can only think of one thing to do.

"we should break up"

he coldly said, quick and direct he thought, hands on his side, a glare in his eyes as he stared at you. if there's one thing Baji was good at, it was his acting skills. and if you were anyone else, you would have believed him, luckily, you weren't just anyone.

"I don't understand? why?" you calmly replied, but your eyebrows were furrowed. while Baji remained a certain distance from you. it should be easy he thought, just like he practiced on his head countless times.

"I don't like you anymore"

words he thought would be enough to drive you away yet Baji swore you look calm than he thought you would be.

"then look me in the eyes and tell me you mean it" you sternly replied, and he did so with full confidence but as he searched your eyes, desperately looking for anything that will let him repeat his words, all he found was your eyes fill with unconditional love, eyes that had seen his worse and beauty. nothing came out of his mouth, words stuck on his lips.

"dammit y/n! don't make this anymore harder than it is!"

"then stop it!" you burst out before calming yourself. "I know what I'm getting when I agreed to go out with you, I wouldn't even lie, it was scary, but this is not enough to the point that it will make me leave you, you're stuck with me until the end"

"Besides I have full confidence that you would save me every time"

a rush of warmth spread on Baji's chest, he should deny it, he should continue his act and walk away yet his feet moved towards you as if having a mind of their own. would it be selfish to continue wanting to be with you despite putting you in danger.?

[pascalsbabyispunk]

Ad Glorium Rome - Part IV

( a marcus acacius fan fic)

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Summary: She is trapped in this arranged marriage, forced to play the perfect wife to a retched man who can't do anything for himself, let alone anyone he's supposed to care for. She's hoping for some divine miracle to fix this whole situation she's been forced into. He’s the general of Romes army, never married, known for his brutality on the battlefield, and his gruff handsome looks. He’s never thought about love like this, that is until he sees her. Long dark hair, the most beautiful eyes he's ever seen, and in need of someone who truly can treat her the way she deserves. Will they prevail through the odds, or will it all come crashing down? 

w.c: 3247

PART III

Warnings: 18+ content (mdni pls) age gap (marcus is in his 50s reader is in her 20s), eventual smut, some angst, mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, maybe more later

a/n: thank you for all the support so far <3 I'm having a lot of fun writing and I'm glad you're enjoying it <3

Strigil – metal tool uses to scrape off dirt and sweat while bathing

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       I feel numb, I can’t even feel the pain in my shoulder. My thoughts are scattered and my breathing ragged. The only thing keeping me from fainting is the horse jolting me as it runs. When we made it to the camp, I am swiftly carried off the horse to a tent, I assume this is where the physician will see me. I am led to cot in the back of tent where I was told to sit, looking around, I can see vials of all sorts of medicine, there’s a pile of linen wraps to bandage the wounded sitting on a table to left of me. I can smell a hint of lavender incense on the air, burned earlier in that day. I was pulled from my trance when I heard a voice outside the tent. The man that brought me here was explaining to the doctor that the general had given him orders to bring me back to the camp and for him to bandage my shoulder. He swiftly appeared in the tent, making his way over to me. He assessed my shoulder declaring that it's not nearly as bad as it could have been, he called me lucky. I don’t feel lucky, being trapped in a horrible marriage, begging to be freed, only to be snatched up by the legion and held hostage, that really doesn’t seem lucky to me. The doctor finishes sewing my shoulder up and as he started to bandage me, the general appeared at the opening of the tent. “How bad is it?” he asked the doctor “it could have been significantly worse, it’s barely deep and a clean cut. She'll be fine.” The general sighed in acknowledgement, “once you are finished, leave us.” The doctor nodded and fished bandaging me, promptly leaving us alone. 

      He stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Your husband is alive, if your servants listen well, he’ll be perfectly fine.” he said as he shifted his weight between his feet. “Why?” He looked perplexed as to why I was questioning this. I guess there's no way he would have known what kind of man he is. “you’re asking me why I left him alive?” he asked to see if that's truly what I was questioning.  “Yes, I don’t understand why you would. You said it yourself, he’s useless. So why not kill him right there?” “Because we need him alive. Come, you will be staying in my tent tonight, I won’t be in there with you, but I will stay outside while you sleep. We leave once the sun rises the next morning.” that’s all he said as he stood there holding the tent open for me to exit. I slowly pushed myself off the cot, now feeling the pain shoot across my shoulder. I followed him through the camp, watching the ground as I walked closely behind him, refusing to accidentally make eye contact with any of the men. Once inside his tent, he asked me if I wanted any wine or food, I shook my head no and he sighed. He then left me in there alone, like he said he would. Why was he being courteous? It makes no sense. My father told me, my entire life, that they are merciless brutes, who take whatever they want with no remorse. He would tell my sisters and I story after story about how horrible they are. This humility the general is showing me, scares me. Theres something going on, there must be.  

       I hadn’t realized I fell asleep till the general woke me and put a plate of food next to me and turned to leave me again. “Wait, please.” I said, not entirely sure of what I was doing. He turned to look at me, waiting for me to explain what I wanted. “Why did you take me?” the question coming out shakier than I intended. He sighed and shifted slightly closer to me. “You’re leverage, unfortunately.” he sounded almost pained when he said it. I wanted to ask more questions but before I could he said “Eat, I'll have someone come in here to prepare a bath for you after, than we will be on our way back to Rome.” and with that he left, I grabbed the plate and ate while a woman came in to set up the bath for me and leaving a fresh clothes for me. As I finished my food, she turned to me and said, “I'll be just outside if you need anything. Let me know when you have finished” I got up from my place on the cot and quickly undressed to bathe. I was trying to clean myself as fast as I possibly could, I was afraid someone would enter while I was in the bath, I was making sure to avoid my injured shoulder, not wanting to agitate it more than necessary. The woman had placed some lovely smelling oils and a new strigil for me to use. I finished and dried myself off faster than I ever had, I called for her when I was struggling to tie my robes myself. I’ve always had someone to help me; I never learned how to do it on my own, my shoulder making it near impossible to even attempt. She entered the tent and took one look at me and said “here, let me do it, they’re never easy to tie yourself. It takes a lot of practice.” she smiled as she tied it like she’s done it a thousand times before. I thanked her shyly and she told me to wait here while she fetched the general. I was left to ponder my thoughts, which started to spiral. Why are they taking me to Rome? Why am I leverage? I can’t go to Rome. What about my family? Are they ok? Does this have to do with my father? What is happening? 

       I was startled out of my spiral when the general entered and said to me “They are packing up most of the camp to leave. You will be with me on my horse, we will find a place to rest mid-day to eat, but we will continue again until nightfall. We will set up a new temporary camp then. Once we stop, please remain close to me. I can’t guarantee your safety if you don’t. Understood?” I subtly nodded my head and quietly said okay. “Good, now follow me.” He turned to walk away, and I scrambled to keep up with him. I looked around as we walked to where the horses were tied to, some of the men were busy packing up a few of the tents, while others sat on some logs eating. I hadn't realized I stopped walking until I felt the general gently tug on my arm to get me to continue following him. “Are not all the men coming?’ asked confused as I kept glancing back at the others who weren���t moving with urgency. “No, some will remain here to recruit for a few more days.” I hummed in acknowledgment, and he looked at me with pity, “I'll explain a little more while we are on our way, come now, I'll help you onto the horse.” He hoisted me onto the horse and quickly climbed on behind me. I could feel the warmth of his skin radiating through his chest plate, causing me to focus on sitting up straighter than I ever had, not wanting to make unnecessary contact. My focus was broken when he sweetly asked, “What is your name?” “y/n” I quickly replied. “It’s a beautiful name; it suits you very well.” I didn’t know how to reply to him, so I just nodded. Before I could think too much about what he had said, the horses started to move, and we were on our way to Rome. 

       We hadn’t said a word to each other in hours, riding in silence. The longer I sat on this horse the more my anxiety would grow. I kept thinking about how I could jump off the horse and try to run, but the fear of what might happen if they caught me kept me from moving even an inch. The general is being courteous now, but what if that changes if I don’t comply? What would he do to me? What would he do to my family? Without realizing, I let out a shaky breath, the general noticing immediately. “Do you need a break?” he asked, startling me. “No, I'm fine” I answered quickly. I don’t want to make this journey longer than it needs to be. “We will be stopping in a few hours for a break regardless, I'll get the doctor to look at your shoulder when we do.”  He took a deep breath, leaning closer to me, “my name is Marcus by the way, you can call me that if you’d like.” he said it barely above a whisper, it was just for me to hear. I turned to look at him, and I was met by him slightly smiling at me before he looked ahead again. An unfamiliar feeling began in my stomach; I snapped my head forward in hopes of distracting myself, Marcus letting out a faint laugh behind me. It was taking all my focus to steady my breathing, but I could feel Marcus's armor grazing my back, sending chills across my entire body.  

      We finally stopped and climbed off the horses, Marcus helping me down. He tied up the horse to a tree and led me over to a rock to sit on while he grabbed us some food. He returned a moment later with a jug of wine, some fruits, and a small piece of bread, holding it out for me to grab. “Thank you.” “you’re welcome.” he replied as he sat down next to me. “It looks like it might rain tonight. We are going to stop earlier than we had initially planned so we have time to set up the camp for the night before the weather turns.” “How many days till we are in Rome.” He thought for a moment and said, “3 or 4 days, it depends on how many stops we take and what the weather decides to do.” we sat in silence again while we finished the food, Marcus standing up after he finished to stretch his back and calling for the doctor to come and look at my shoulder. “he’s going to look at it to see if he needs to rebandage it.” I finished my food and waited for the doctor to walk over to me. He checked my shoulder and decided that it won't need to be rebandaged until tonight, as long as I don’t reopen the stitches. “I'll make sure she doesn't.” Marcus said while glancing over at me for a moment before turning back to the doctor and dismissing him. “I can bring over a chamber pot if you need before we depart.” seeing my hesitation, he promptly announced that he will give me some privacy if I need it, stating that I can take behind the trees and he will stand away making sure no one approaches. I agreed and when he brought it over, and he did as he said he would. 

       We got everything ready to leave once more, again Marcus helping onto the horse. This time he sat closer to me than he previously was, he was pressing his armor against my back. I could feel every breathe he took, unintentionally syncing mine with his, finding it strangely soothing. On top of feeling comfortable sitting here with Marcus, the sights around us were beautiful. The sprawling trees, gently swaying as the wind blew, various flowers sporadically growing in the grass below us, the lovely scent filling my nose as the horses stepped, the birds singing such beautiful songs. All of that mixed together started to lull me to sleep, not realizing until I swayed slightly, catching myself my grabbing the reins of the horse. Of course, Marcus noticing instantaneously, “if you are tired you can lean into me to rest, I won’t let you fall off.” Too tired to fight it, I nodded leaning back into him and resting my head into his shoulder, shivering only slightly when Marcus reached around my stomach to secure me. I was falling asleep to the feeling of Marcus's hand firmly holding me, and my only thought being how this is the safest I've felt in a very long time. 

        I was awoken by the feeling of the horses stopping. “y/n? We are stopping here for the night; I'll take you over to the doctor now.” he said it so gently I almost felt like I was still dreaming. He climbed off the horse but instead of helping me climb off and walking us over there, he picked me up, carrying me into the temporary tent and softly placing me onto the cot. The doctor was beside me quickly, undressing my shoulder and cleaning the area and checking the stiches, “everything looks good, no sign of infection, barely any bruising, you should heal beautifully soon.” the doctor announced with a smile, nodding to Marcus before leaving us alone once more. “You will be sleeping here tonight, I have extra furs if you get cold, they’re in the chest if you want to grab any.” “Where will you sleep? You didn’t sleep last night; you must be tired.” I'm not sure why I feel concerned for him, he is the man that took me hostage. I shouldn't, but there's something about him that I can't figure out. There’s a softness that is present, and it feels genuine. “I’ll set up a small spot on the floor with some blankets and furs, you need the softer spot for your shoulder. Are you hungry? I will return with food in a moment.” and with that he left me in here alone, all I kept thinking about was how he must be sore after being on the horse all day. The way he stretched when we stopped earlier proving my thoughts true. He should sleep on here, I napped on the horse for a while, I'll be ok if I don't get a good sleep tonight, he needs to. Standing from the cot, I started to make a little bed a few feet away from the cot, opening the chest to grab some fur to pad the floor. I didn't hear Marcus enter but he surprised me when he spoke, “what are you doing?” he asked intently, “making my bed for the night, you haven’t slept and your back is sore, therefor I feel you should sleep on the cot. I feel perfectly fine and slept on the horse, so I don’t need as much now.” I said confidently and directly, standing up straight so he knew I was serious.  “Well, I can’t let that happen, but for now let’s eat, then we can argue further.” he said with an amused exhale. 

     We ate our food in a comfortable silence, neither looking to the other as we sat on a few chairs next to each other. Marcus standing and taking both of our plates when we finished, placing them on a nearby table. He made his way over to the makeshift bed I had made and began laying down. I rushed over and my said in more of a whine than I intended “I said I was sleeping there; you sleep on the bed.” “I offered it to you, you sleep there.” he sighed trying to get comfortable. “No, I made that for me, I won’t be budging on this. You will sleep in the bed, and I will sleep here, that’s final.” I shocked myself by how assertive I was, even Marcus opening his eyes to look at me, a mildly shocked look on his face. He chuckled lightly as he said “you are a very stubborn woman, I admire that, but I can’t let you sleep on the floor. You deserve the cot, I promise you I'll be fine on the floor. You’ve made a pretty comfortable spot here.” He smiled at me, big and bright, making me blush and quickly look to the floor. “Take some extra furs at least, please.” I said as I held out two, waiting for him to grab them. He finally agreed, grabbing them from me and brushing his fingers along mine, taking my breath away for a moment. I turned to make my way over to the cot, slyly looking behind me and catching him hastily turning his head away from me and closing his eyes once more. I climbed into bed to sleep, facing away from him so he didn't see me blush.  

      I awoke sometime in the night shivering, I could hear the rain hitting the tent loudly, but I was not sure what time it was, I could tell it was still dark with no sign of the sun though. It had gotten much colder than I thought it would, and I guess I had made more noise than I intended when I moved because Marcus sat up and asked me if I was alright. “I am ok, just a little cold.” I tried to slide farther under the blanket and fur to warm myself, but it didn't work. “It’s quite cold tonight; I think the rain is making it damp in here now.” Marcus said as he started to rise from the floor, picking up he furs and carrying them over to me. “Marcus, you need them too” he cut me off by placing them onto me and sighing softly. “I won’t take no for an answer, you’re cold, use them.” walking back to his spot on the floor, he looked back at me smiling sweetly before laying down.  I was grateful for it. I laid there for who knows how long trying to warm up without prevail. I think the damp had made its way through my body. I tried to close my eyes tighter in hopes I'd just fall asleep, but that didn’t seem to be working in the slightest. I gasped when I felt Marcus place a hand on my shoulder, “you’re freezing, I can lay with you to warm you up, I won’t touch you if want, but you won’t warm up on your own.” I turned to look at him genuinely contemplating the offer, he was right, I wasn’t warming up, I needed heat...I needed him. Shakily breathing I scooted over so he could fit next to me, he knew instantly that I accepted so he climbed in beside me. “Thank you” I said, not looking in his direction. “Marcus?” I quietly called to him, and he hummed in response, so I asked “can you place your arm on me? Just for a moment or two, to warm me quicker.” “of course,” he said as he wrapped his arm around my stomach. The feeling of him next to me like this shouldn’t bring me as much comfort as it does, but there’s something about him that takes away all my pain and anxiety. He feels warm, comfortable, and safe. Safer than anyone else. I fell asleep fast and slept sounder than I think I ever have, relishing in the quiet coziness that I have only felt while next to Marcus. 

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a/n: I'm feeling devious as I write the next part so who knows what's going to happen lol

[junosita]

Chapter IV - The Aquarium

~ April 4th 2038

Abby didn’t return back to Juno’s room last night, nor did she return to her own. Manny claimed that he hadn’t seen her since they left the FOB but Juno didn’t exactly believe that. Owen also happened to be missing. At least if they were together they were safe. Juno hoped they were safe. She decided she needed to ask Manny again. Maybe he didn’t tell yesterday because of all the people around. Now she could knock two birds with one stone or something like that. She could see if Abby was there and if she wasn’t she’d ask Manny where she’d run off too.

When Juno arrives she knocks gently on their door. When Manny opens the door he looks a little surprised. 

“Hey Manny, I uh, I just came to see if Abby was back” she explains. Manny sighs softly and motions for her to come in. When she realizes Abby is in fact not here she frowns and turns back to Manny. “Look I’ll tell you where she is but you can’t go blabbing okay?” 

She nods “I won’t say a word” 

“She went off to the aquarium, by the ferris wheel” He tells her quietly.

“Is that where Owen is too?” she asks tentatively.

Manny nods “You can’t tell anybody though, they’ll go after him for shooting Danny” he warns.

“Okay..I won’t say anything, cover for me?” 

Manny huffs softly but agrees. He knew even he said no that Juno would leave to find Abby and Owen. She thanks him before leaving to pack her things. After around an hour she leaves the same way Manny said to. 

She assumes she’s going the way Abby went because of the lack of infected. On her way to the aquarium she has to sneak past a few scars. They’re talking about some apostate, at least that’s what she thinks she heard. She manages to get past them and closer to the aquarium. Juno makes her way through the last of the shrubbery and to the aquarium doors. She boosts herself up through the small window and makes her way inside. 

“Owen..?” She calls out, following up with, “Abby?”

When she’s met with silence she progresses further inside until she finds Owen and Mel arguing in hushed tones. She sits and listens for a moment but it seems she’s too late.

”God arguing with you is always so pointless Owen” Mel snaps.

”That’s because we don’t sit down and talk anymore”  Owen snaps back.

”Cause you always lie to me” She yells at him and the room goes quiet. 

After a moment Mel turns to leave and sees Juno in the doorway. She almost feels bad that the younger girl had been standing there. Juno looks between the two of them, she’s starting to feel awkward. After Mel walks past her she goes up to Owen.

”What was that about..?” She asks hesitantly.

“Nothing” He says firmly.

Juno nods slowly before speaking again, “Any clue where Abby is?”

”She just left, no clue if she’ll be back anytime soon, or at all” Owen murmurs the last bit.

”You get into a fight with her too?” Her tone has a bit more bite to it than she intended. 

“Seriously Juno?” He frowns at her.

”Sorry sorry, It just sounded like something was wrong between you guys too” She explains.

Owen sighs and sits down. He eases his sister's nerves telling her that everything will be fine soon. They go on to talk about what happened with Danny, how the scars are getting closer. They also talk about normal things though, how they’ve been and other normal sibling stuff. It's been years since they sat down and talked like this. Hell It’s been so long the fireflies were still up and running. After a little while longer Owen got up to make some food for the both of them and Mel. In his absence Juno went to talk with Mel. Maybe it was a little invasive but she wanted to know what had happened.

“Hey Mel” Juno softly calls out from the doorway.

Mel looks over her shoulder at her, tensing a bit. 

Juno speaks up again “Just wanted to check in, and um..I also wanted to ask what that was about”

“Owen didn’t tell you?” Mel asks, looking back at the water.

“Nah..he said it was nothing, but obviously it was something”

“That’s typical for him I guess” Mel sighs before continuing “Well..to be blunt he slept with Abby last night” Juno freezes up behind her, unable to speak up. “I didn’t even really accuse him, he accidentally ratted himself out.” she explains.

“They..slept together?” Juno asks, praying she somehow heard wrong.

Mel nods “Yeah, I can barely believe it either” she turns to look at the blonde.

Mel looks like she’s barely holding herself together. Juno is trying to comprehend it all. She knows she shouldn’t really be mad at Abby but she is.

“She’ll probably be back soon” Mel says.

Juno nods “Alright, Owen um..made food by the way, it’ll probably be done soon”

A few hours later Alice started barking at something while Mel and Juno were still eating. They both got up and headed towards Alice. As they got closer they could hear Owen and Abby’s panicking voices. 

“Alice!” Mel called out, silencing the dog.

“Lev put your bow down” Abby spoke warily, “It’s okay”

“Who are those kids” Juno asked, peeking over Owen’s shoulder

“Look, they saved my life” Abby explains.

“They’re scars Abby” Owen snaps.

Juno swats at his shoulder “That doesn’t matter”

They bicker for a moment before Mel interrupts them. Abby introduces the kids as Lev and Yara. There’s another short silence and then Mel motions for Abby to follow her. They lay Yara down and talk about what they need to amputate her arm. Since they had practically nothing at the aquarium Abby said she’d head out with Lev. Juno was about to offer to come but decided against it. She knew that now wasn’t a good time to talk to Abby about last night. 

When Abby returns with the supplies Mel is quick to start the procedure. Owen was..somewhere..which left Juno, Abby, and Lev. Lev wasn’t up for long, falling asleep against the wall while he waited for Yara. This left Abby and Juno.

”Hey..” Juno murmurs, walking up behind Abby.

”Hey Jun” Abby turns to look at the shorter blonde.

They’re both quiet for a moment. Surprisingly, Abby breaks the silence this time. “You seem angry” she points out.

“I..I am..I’m also a little hurt” She nearly whispers, she’s never been this vulnerable with Abby.

”Did..um..something happen while I was gone” Abby asks.

”Sort of, I found out something while you were gone” Juno pauses, “I’d bet you know what I mean already”

Abby sighs, Juno can’t tell if it’s regret, frustration, or both.

”Look..it was a shitty thing to do..It wasn’t supposed to happen” Abby starts off, “I know Mel is angry at us a-

“I’m not worried about Mel right now” Juno interrupts.

They both pause, Abby isn’t sure what this is about now.

”I..dammit..it’s stupid..but I thought..we..you” Juno stops and takes a breath. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to do this. 

“You thought what” Abby asks tentatively.

Juno takes another breath, she’s started to tremble. “I think I just got the wrong idea over the past month” 

“Jun..” Abby trails off, not sure what to say.

”I just thought that..yknow..the feelings were mutual” her voice cracks.

Abby feels her heart drop as she hears Juno’s breath catch. She looks down at her, not sure how to comfort her. 

“Owen and I aren’t like that” she says after a moment.

”But..you-

Abby stops her “It was a weak moment, I regretted it the second it was over” 

Juno finally looks up at her, her own eyes wet with unshed tears. Without a second thought Abby pulls her in, holding her close. They both relax a bit in each other's arms. Juno was still unsure about how Abby felt. 

Abby pulls back just enough to wipe Juno’s tears. “We’ll figure all of this out soon okay” she speaks softly. Juno nods in response, relaxing further into Abby’s arms. She was more hopeful now than she had been a few hours ago.

series masterlist

[kroosluvr]

hi!! as a fellow royal trio-truther ive been ADORING and loving your posts so much <3 you mentioned that you've like mentally re-wired shusumi so i was curious if you had a list of head-canons for how they develop in the game/post-game!! Im super curious to hear (: also any head-canons for the akesumi dynamic would be great bc I hate how little the game developed them together !!!

OMGGGGGGGGG HAYYYYYYYYYY ok so. first. look at this (idr if i posted this here already but if i did look again heh..)

ok now ill actually talk under the cut

note that some of this is headcanon territory bc i just be frolicking at this point

some backstory i fell in love w sumi as soon as her art was revealed i was like omfg peak design PEAKKKKKK i love her so much so i was really excited abt her but i feel like there were so many loose ends w her confidant and namely her crush on protag sometimes doing her a disservice (it turned ppl off from her (understandable bc i also dislike when writers make a female character out to be dependent on a male character) but also made other ppl weird abt her in the same breath....... shivers. people who overly-romanticize/sexualize mentally ill characters (especially girls/women) freak me out sorry

anyway that put me off frm p5 fandom for a hot minute. BUT regardless. i think people often focus on like "shy cute sadgirl kouhai crush-on-protag" for her which on top of atlus's.......mediocre handling of her also does her character a disservice... shes so multilayered!! she houses such insane convoluted levels of distress and fear and anger and reluctance and most of all STUBBORNNESS. i think her headstrong personality is not really emphasized in fandom but i can totally see it (maybe its just me but).

ok moving on to my shsm delusions i think to turn sumire's canon crush on its head i want to make them doomed to never get together. i think 3rd semester is so tense and high-emotion that royal trio are so deeply intertwined w each other:

like they all are mildly-to-a-lot suicidal so they hold onto each other so tightly to make sure none of them spirals and does anything bad. i think in the end they just want the other two to be Okay, even if they themself doesn't. if the other two are ok, then it's all good.

ok back to shsm LMAO i think seeing their relationship as like an odd high-emotion situation makes sense. they love each other, obviously, and provide each other comfort, but the idea of a relationship slips thru their fingers like water. is that right...? is that how it is? like i said up there they just crumble under the weight of their own love. tldr theyre in no place to "date" each other........ but they have their "almost." they're inseparable, they love spending time with each other, but knowing in the back of their heads that it won't last, and they'll have to leave it be one day. "sometimes when i really love someone i leave them alone forever." peak shsm to me. "let's run away together - but what if it's not enough? what if all of this fear and sadness still stays? i take a man down to the river and he throws away his sadness but hes still left with his hands, he's still left with the river (paraphrased richard siken). peak shsm to me. i think they try to treat eachother so softly and gently that it fucks it all up, actually. peak shsm to me. it's not codependency in the sense that theyre not trying to save each other - they're just trying to salvage out some love from it all. all of these terrible things that happened: there's still love, right? there's still love. but the pain can't all be sifted out, and everything still hurts. but they still love. (they just don't date or even talk to each other much after graduating and i think they talk to akechi but to each other its suddenly COMPLICATED. i hate these guys)

ironically i think if you throw akechi in the mix it stabilizes out and i think shuakesumi could totally have a happy married ending. but shsm as a pair i dont see endgame for them. peak for me is that theyre in love and then they spend the rest of their lives trying to forget each other (they don't)

(If this sounds ridiculous and stupid im sorry. i just like shoving too-many-emotions onto my favs sometimes (a lot of the time))

IN REGARDS TO AKESUMI i think my latest 2 comics describe how i feel abt them pretty well!!! link 1 and link 2. actually i think akesumi's friendship is a great way for me to explore how i see/portray/feel about sumire, because i see them as way more similar than the game pays attention to. they're both stuck in their ways: sumire in her cowardice, hiding from the incident and refusing to move on, and akechi entrenched in his own traumas and feeling like he doesn't deserve more than that. their self-hatred manifests in two opposite ways but its very similar at the core. they both like. have no fucking clue what they're doing in terms of handling their pasts so that's why i think them working together to get around their own respective traumas is so fascinating: akechi is terrible at it, pushing sumire too far, but at the same time that perspective is something that she needs. meanwhile, her sensitive and observant personality shows akechi that like, you can have This too: a soft, good love. to have someone care about you unconditionally, so gently. you deserve that, too. yeah i can explode my head off now

i did not proofread this.

[crguang]

YUPPPP YUP i agree with everything you said. you touched on this with the praising but black swan is soooo vocal during sex. not necessarily loud, but she'll never hold back her moans and whines. she knows how much you love her voice and adores seeing your reaction to her, like your face flushing and you getting more needy. also, she enjoys using vibrators and strap-ons, but i feel like her favorite thing would be to feel your fingers or tongue. loves skin-to-skin contact and having you close because she can feel things like the temperature of your body and your rapid heartbeat. also omggggg. might be wishful thinking but she likes marking and being marked. leaving lipstick marks and hickeys all over your body, and running her hands over them later when they remain. im not sure how it would be for her because she's a memetic entity, but if it's different for her where the marks don't remain as long or something, i think she would like seeing the lingering effects on you.

anyways, arcane season 2... hope you're enjoying!! (or maybe not if its devastating um.. im scared) i want to watch it so bad but super busy with university rn, so im saving it for winter break. somehow ive managed to avoid spoilers so far!! surely i can keep it up until then ksjdksns. ive trained myself so if i see the word arcane or catch a glimpse of any images i scroll past it as quickly as i can

- 🌌

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS i forgot to mention it but she’s definitely vocal, i always write her as someone who’s not shy about her pleasure and if it affects you that much too? win-win. i know she has the hottest moans like woah… theyre low and drawn out and raspy im getting dizzy just thinking about it. last time hyv made a sexier character it was arlecchino. swan is so fucking sexy i would fluster and stutter but i could never fumble, i’f have to lock the fuck in because there is mo way im letting anything get in the way of me eating her out or gagging on her strap IDCCCC. she turns me into such a simple minded incel lord

back to what youre saying, sorry shhfng but yes i agree. physical contact is a must for her she just loves it a lot, especially feeling your racing pulse and how alive and human you are. i see her liking marking too, especially with her nails 😋 but she’ll pepper your skin with fat kisses and leave her imprints behind so you can look in the mirror later and remember how she lovingly fucked you dumb <3 i think swan would love getting hickeys on her neck even if they don’t last long. imagine her trailing her fingers up her neck and tilting her head to the side to feel the dull ache of the bruises your teeth left behind… kicking my feet rn

good luck with uni and arcane is definitely something, i havent watched the finale yet so im not taking chances and just staying off twitter until i do. we’ll see how it goes but im also very scared

[infamouzsky]

Because you said you love rambeling about lore and you are looking for excuses to talk about it redeem this cupon for one free lore ramble, any topic

OH YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT U JUST DONE

SIT BACK AND RELAX CUZ THE GOATS UNIVERSE HAS BEEN IN MY MIND THE WHOLE WEEK + SOME HEKET RAMBLING Cuz I got her a partner idea hehehe <3

LONG RAMBLING UNDER THE CUT!!! (btw bless chu I appreciate u <3 )

ABOUT CULT OF THE GOAT AU:

About the Purple Crown: Ive been seeing a lot of interpretations of Goat's Crown going around and honestly Id like to put in my cents: I dont think the Crown being purple changes who the owner was, because the eye shape is still the same as Lamb's Which brings me to think that, just like how in COTL everything seems to be colored after warmer/reddish colors, everything in Goat's universe must be following cooler/purpleish palettes What does that mean to me? That ALL the other Crowns are of different colors as well, maybe a colder one compared to their original ones

Im still thinking about what each of them would be here but so far I like to think that Yellow -> Ocean green?? Green -> Blue Blue -> dark pink? Purple -> Cyan/White

I think the Crown shapes would still be the same + what each Bishop's domain would be as well

About Aym and Baal: They were never offered to Narinder. Shamura didnt have that compassion. They were so mad at their brother that they couldnt bring themselves to consider his feelings for being banished. Neither did any of the other siblings, for they wouldve been too busy fighting off Old Gods and hunting for empowerment

So where are Aym and Baal? Theyre alive! With Forneus! And both of them are lil jerks as much as their mother Taught to steal, lie and fight, all in order to survive no matter what. The twins have already expressed wanting to go out and explore the world, but Forneus refuses to let her kids go, much for her own selfish reasons of them being the only things that make her happy in this fcked up world AND because, of course, she loves them. She knows how cruel the world has turned into, she does not want to lose them Aym and Baal never met Narinder, and Narinder never met them Maybe eventually, while Goat is out in a crusade, they shall cross paths........as enemies

About the Purgatory: This is still smtng I am speculating about, but what I have so far: instead of it being MS to tell the Goat to free the Bishops from their deserved-suffering, itd be them asking the deity if such thing was possible, because Narinder wouldve been feeling bad about it He believes that his siblings could change over time, especially now that the Crowns were relinquished by the Goats power, and so they are allowed to have that chance This would unlock many scenarios of the Bishops actively trying to take over the cult, run away or kill the Goat + their followers. It is smtng Ill let cook for a while more

IF ANYTHING Id just- leave them dead lol they wouldnt be redeemable in this world (BUT BECAUSE I LOVE MY SKRUNKLIES EQUALLY ILL TRY TO MAKE IT WORK-)

ABOUT HEKET: Ehehehe I accidentally started shipping her with my follower OC Astrid so we'll see how it goes

Astrid is someone who keeps to herself for the sake of others; she is not used to opening up and oftentimes believes her pain is not worth of complains compared to others she is caring for However, she is very much talkative, maybe as a way to make her forget her problems Whilst Heket she- well. She cant. Talk much it hurts like hell UASHDNJASMDK

SO WE HAVE A TALKATIVE BUBBLY GF WITh her mostly quiet butch wife that shes constantly having to change the bandages of <3

I have a dialogue set up for them which I shall get to drawing a comic for as soon as I am done with thIS CURRENT COMIC-

ANYWAYS thats the ramblings for now, HOPE YALL LIKE THE IDEAS bless u again for givng me a free pass made me rlly happy MWEHE,,!! 💜💜💜

[bannock-freak]

im rolling around and trying to decide how much i care about characters being in character, given my stance on death of the author. on one hand of course i love these characters very much and want to try to stay true to them. when they're horribly misconstrued it genuinely irritates me, and i dislike to think i might be doing that myself. ofc this characterization exists largely in my head, i'm not the original author, though i hope that the ideas are well-informed and supported by canon...

but on the other hand going through the number of times ive tagged saiki as ooc and have had a goddamn good time bending and twisting that little pink guy... he is not canonically a yandere. not even a little bit, though his habitual stalking and obsessive tendencies and

could potentially inform such a nature. canonically he works himself into the ground trying to AVOID hurting people. even the thugs he assaults aren't physically traumatized, only terrified enough that they're put off capturing both him and the meras. you could legitimately make a case for self-harm given how terribly he isolates himself because he considers his very presence around 'normal' people dangerous. to himself, yes, but largely to THEM. saiki looks at his crush, looks at the effect his presence has on his crush (or rather the cliches around said guy), and promptly nopes tf out and never approaches ever again, even working to set satou up with suzumiya.

and yet yandere!saiki, my favourite lil guy :( rip tear and kill my dude

essentially i have two very characterizations going on for Mr. Nikiforov. Viktor 'Doesn't wanna hurt anyone but has severe foot in mouth disease' and Victor 'I will ruin your whole life just give me a reason'. It could be fun reconciling the one into the other. There could be a case of denial going on. you'd expect either version would sooner swandive out a window and run away before trying to deliberately hurt yuuri. and yet.

Mr. I came here to seduce you but I will literally leave if you don't lose weight. Mr. I won't kiss anything but a gold medal. Mr. We're not getting married for silver. Mr. "Oops, watch the nose blood!" and then Yuuri crashes face first into the floor. Mr. I'm trying to motivate you and choosing the meanest way to do it every single time for the lols OOPS IT SHATTERED

Mr. I'm clearly still attracted to you even though I just made it apparent your waistline is a deal-breaker for me, so your weight actually isn't a deterrent even a lil, I still think you're super sexy let's fuck right here right now. You're single, right? Look at my tits.

Mr. Mixed Messages!

Mostly, people like to think of themselves as 'good'. Where do you fall on that scale, Mr. Nikiforov?

I'm writing the break up fic largely because I've read other ones where I was pretty dissatisfied with the characterization therein. The goal is, absolutely, ultimately, the ego death of both parties. There's going to be some pretty extreme circumstances leading into that.

But, kicking over the body and examining it, how to make it believable enough it doesnt stretch my own sense of disbelief...

it could be a matter of just needing to write more to see where it goes. it all makes grand sense in my head! but translating that into a document has proven a bit challenging.

im looking at teruhashi and understanding how she couldve possibly thought she had a crush on saiki when she clearly didnt care for him at the start. i'm thinking about victor so much and he's literally not even my favourite guy, but maybe it turns out he is lmao

come to me, wonderful fanfic where yuuri does nothing wrong and is a perfect angel and takes everything from chris to makka in the divorce because victor fucked up so badly and It's Still Believable, COME TO ME

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Hey y’all guess what?!? :) it’s time for a new episode of Bedtime Stories With PCE!!!

Who ordered some old man yaoi? That’s right, this one is set right after If Heaven And Hell Decide, with a sick Kyle, worried Stan, the best little immortal cat of all time, adding injury to illness, two middle aged men being massive fantasy dorks, all that goodness. Very sorry to my favorite arthritic ginger it will happen again, very sorry to his extremely concerned husband.

And y’all. I’m dedicating this to the Sickfic Queen herself, @alwaysinstyle who consistently kicks ass and gets stoked about style taking care of each other with me. Ana I love you so much and I’m so proud of you. All the people in your corner, we have you covered.

Also OFC the rest of the RANT homies have been subjected to random snippets of this over the past 2 weeks or so (jesus my sadsack ass needs to get some motivation back how has it been two weeks) but hey I will always be obnoxious when the mood strikes me and this long ass monstrosity is FINALLY done!!! Thank y’all fr for putting up with me.

Here’s •Well, That Would Be Pretty Odd•

A subtle knock at the door drew Stan’s attention and Kyle from uneasy rest. His husband’s head lolled exhaustively in his hand, still drained of energy and, according to the screen displaying his vitals, running a pretty high fever. Stan kept one arm protectively over him and turned to the door. “Yeah?”

The doctor entered, shutting the door behind her. “Hey, guys, how are we doing in here?”

Kyle pulled up slowly, clearly emotional, like he always got when he was sick. “Can I go home yet? Moose needs me.”

“Our cat,” Stan explained. “He’s worried he scared our cat.”

“I did.”

“Scared the hell out of your husband, too, sick as you are. It says on the chart you guys filled out that your blood sugar was low enough to potentially trigger a seizure. If he hadn’t acted as fast as he did, you’d be even worse off than you are.”

Kyle slumped back into Stan. “He always rescues me,” he murmured.

Stan felt like crying. “I’m your knight when you need me, dude.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, what’re we working with here? Stomach flu, dehydration, complications because of the diabetes, all that, right?”

“Right. Kyle, we have you on antivirals and fluids via IV for now, and I know you’re eager to get home-“

“-he hates hospitals-“

“-I hate hospitals.”

The doctor smiled kindly, even after getting interrupted. Stan liked her. “We’re keeping you overnight at least, but if your vitals are still stable and your fever is less than 102, we can send you home.”

Stan knew Kyle appreciated being the one addressed about his own health. This doctor could read the room, that’s for sure. Kyle nodded tiredly, eyes closed.

“How about when we go home? What’s the plan?” Stan inquired, tired as fuck himself but making an exception for Ky, always.

“Fluids, rest, anything with nutritional value that can stay down. Your friend in the waiting room mentioned orange juice as you guys’ go-to when Kyle’s having trouble with blood sugar? And he said you’re always diligent about keeping an eye on his health.” She was definitely addressing Stan now, since Kyle had clearly relinquished responsibility for the time being, knowing Stan had him covered. Hell yeah he did. “Any further complications; if you catch the bug too and can’t take care of him, another bad sugar drop or fever spike, and you guys come right back here. But at this point, it’s looking like this is something manageable from home, fingers crossed.”

And Stan had every finger crossed. He’d take care of Kyle, just like Kyle took care of him. Even if he was kind of scared as fuck, not having seen him quite this sick since maybe college. Or even when they were kids and he needed kidney surgery. He bit the panic down. Kyle was okay.

“Gotcha. I can spend the night? Spousal rights and everything?”

“You won’t convince him not to stay if you say no,” was Kyle’s muffled reply.

The doctor laughed. “I won’t make you leave. The last thing I want is either of you worked up, especially you, Kyle. If you need your husband with you to be comfortable-“

“-mhm-“

“-that’s not a problem in my book.” She tapped her clipboard with long fingernails. “There’s a call button on the bed if you need anything between the nurses checks, and I’ll tell your friend he’s free to go. He isn’t allowed back here, I’m afraid, but I can also let him know he can be the one to pick you up in the morning, if that’s what you two want?”

Kyle mumbled something that sounded like “like a good neighbor, Tucker is there” to the tune of the state farm insurance jingle. The doctor raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, he’s pretty delirious, alright.” A couple quick checks to Kyle’s IV line and heartbeat monitor, and she was gesturing for Stan to lay his half asleep husband back down. “You boys get some rest. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks,” Stan whispered, letting Kyle nuzzle into his chest as she left the room. Once they were alone in the darkened space, he kissed him softly on the top of the head. Kyle was a space heater. But if the hospital staff wasn’t alarmed, they were okay. “I’ve got you, baby, just sleep.”

The next morning, Kyle improved enough to leave and discharge paperwork done, they faced the problem of actually getting the sick man home.

Stan waved off the nurse’s offered wheelchair and stubbornly picked Kyle up because like hell was he losing even a second of contact. That and he took pride in the fact that he was in his 40s and still able to carry his husband.

“Sir, there’s procedure…”

Kyle snorted from where his head was against Stan’s shoulder, coherent enough to be aware but still too weak to insist on, god forbid, trying to walk on his own. “Believe me, ma’am, there’s no way in hell you’re convincing this guy not to carry me. Losing battle, mark my worms- words.”

Someone needed to be home in bed.

The nurse sighed, clearly deciding it wasn’t worth argument. Thank God, because Kyle could out argue anyone normally, but he was fucking tired.

“Just sing me home again, Orpheus,” he murmured into his husband’s ear.

Stan laughed at the reference. “Alright, ma’am, so if we’re all set….”

“Yes, yes, you can go. Hope you feel better.”

Kyle only had a vague recollection of both Stan and Craig yelling at the hospital staff when they brought him in, which was kind of funny to think about. Craig didn’t get worked up about things easily, and Stan was as gentle as they came. But it was nice to know his friend and his partner were willing to act so out of character for his sake. He muttered a “hey, spaceman” in greeting when Stan lowered him into the back of Craig’s car, mid morning sun forcing him to keep his eyes closed.

Craig barked a short laugh, pulling from the parking lot when both his passengers were settled for the short drive. “Someone’s feeling better.”

“I’ll get him set to rights, kick the plague’s ass,” Stan said, softly kissing his husband’s still too warm forehead. “Thanks for picking us up, dude. And for last night.”

“No biggie,” Craig shrugged nonchalantly. “Someone had to keep a level head and it sure as hell wasn’t gonna be either of you.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong there. Craig was probably the least prone to getting over emotional person Stan had ever met.

Craig’s husband, however, was the exact opposite. Upon getting home and getting up to bed, Kyle could faintly hear the frantic voice of Tweek downstairs, bringing Moose back from spending the night over at apartment two.

Kyle was nauseous, not to the point that he had been, but nauseous all the same, waiting for Stan to be done retrieving their cat and filling Kyle’s water. He felt weak as shit, and sweaty, which was probably a reasonably good indicator of his fever coming down, but it fucking sucked. And he was going to need some soup or something in him soon so his blood sugar didn’t get so bad again, which was another thing that sucked, because why do flesh prisons require so much maintenance? Why did his body require so much to function.

He didn’t realize tears were flowing until Stan entered the bedroom, hands full with the water, a KMBS, and one of those bottled protein drinks that tasted like chalk. Moose was quick to jump up and pad softly over to him, big blue eyes so worried and sweet as he curled up beside him. Kyle’s two blue eyed boys.

The second of whom was setting the drinks on the bedside table. There was a straw in each, so Kyle wouldn’t have to move as much to drink. It made him cry harder.

“Shhh, dude, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Stan climbed onto his side and grabbed the juice, holding it to Kyle’s lips. “I know you don’t feel good, that’s okay. I’ve got you. Go slow, okay?”

Kyle complied, the sharp taste of salted orange juice helping both physically and mentally. Plus, it’s hard to drink something and cry at the same time, so his breathing was a little less sporadic. A few sips were all he managed before his stomach started rolling, and he shook his head. Stan understood, setting the cup down and pulling Kyle’s face into his chest. “Just sleep, baby. I’m gonna have to check your temperature and levels in about an hour, but just sleep until then, alright?”

“Mhm.”

Stan would take care of him. Kyle would put up a fight, when he had the strength to, but Stan knew from experience that he’d be ‘secretly’ loving being cared for.

The husbands had a couple favorite positions to hold each other in. They’d hold the other from behind, arms wrapped around and poised to kiss an exposed nape or shoulder as a reminder of their presence. They would entangle themselves like they were doing now, they’d let the other’s head rest on their legs, Kyle would perch himself in Stans lap or Stan would drape over him like a blanket. Holding each other was safe. And in this moment Stan wrapped protectively around his sick partner like it was his sacred duty, one hand cradling Kyle’s head from underneath, fingers gently rubbing his hair, the other arm tucking him firmly against himself, feeling Moose’s purrs vibrating where the cat had claimed his place against Kyle’s back, right below the place Stan’s arm was wrapped around.

Stan glanced at the nightstand clock, keeping watch for the next time they’d need to wake up for a check in. About an hour and he’d get the thermometer to make sure they were still headed in the right direction, check Kyle’s levels, make them both something for, well, he supposed lunch at this point, and call the clinic to let his coworkers know that he’d be out a few days for a family emergency. He’d have to let Kyle’s work know too, before his husband tried to go into school still unwell.

Fitfully, Kyle dozed, sweating in his sleep, which Stan knew damn well he’d complain about when he woke up, but personally, he didn’t mind holding a miniature sun, because it was Kyle. Overheated, but still Kyle.

It hadn’t quite been an hour, but the warmth was starting to concern him. He gently kissed the top of his husband’s head, encouraging him to stir.

“Dude, hey.”

Kyle let out a tired whine as indication that he was awake.

“I know, baby. I just need to check your temperature and then you can go back to sleep.”

“I can check my own damn temperature,” Kyle protested, rolling over onto his back when Stan relinquished his grasp around his beloved. He scowled. “I’m all sweaty.”

Stan chuckled lowly. Was he right or was he right. “Gimme a second.”

Upon getting the thermometer and finding that they were still going in the right direction, Stan relaxed slightly. He let Kyle check both his temperature and blood sugar by himself, because it wasn’t worth the impending argument and the last thing he wanted was to make his husband feel helpless. Fever was down, but he definitely needed something to eat soon.

“Dude, do you think you can handle something solid, or you wanna keep sticking with drinks?”

Kyle hadn’t puked in a while, so he felt like maybe something simple, easy on the stomach, would be okay. As much as he wanted to keep going with the safe option of juice and a protein shake, he wouldn’t get better without something substantial in him and he knew it. “I can try. No promises.”

“You don’t need to promise anything,” Stan insisted, leaning down to kiss him on the way out of bed. “But I have an idea, if you’re okay by yourself for a few minutes.”

“Moose is with me. I’m not by myself,” Kyle remarked with a sleepy smile.

Stan snorted and went to change into jeans, last night’s pajamas not exactly ideal attire for walking to the BBQ place a block over. Kyle was weird about food sometimes, but Brendan’s mac and cheese was a simple, safe, Kyle approved bet. He’d probably want it to get cold first like he usually did (weirdo), but sick Kyle was sort of a wild card. They’d see.

“I’ll be back in fifteen, dude, drink some water.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Kyle heard the door close downstairs, slowly reaching for his water at the bedside, one hand resting on their cat’s head. Moose was stretched out along his side, fluffy tail dangling off the side of the mattress.

“You sleepy too, young nastyman?” Kyle asked, setting the bottle down and closing his eyes. Moose purred in response.

Apparently he’d drifted off again, waking up to the rustle of a takeout bag and a strong, smoky smell.

Kyle clapped a hand over his mouth. Ordinarily the smell of brisket and ribs wouldn’t bother him, but in his half asleep state, smelling meat on Stan of all people…

“…Dude?”

“FUCKING CHANGE!” Kyle screeched, staggering up to run to the bathroom, tears in his eyes because the bbq place smell all over his vegetarian husband was wrong and disorienting and he hated being sick and fevers made him sensitive and an asshole and-

Falling hard in front of the toilet, he felt his knee go out. The cherry on top of the fucking cake while his stomach tried to escape his body. Kyle cried out in pain, which was cut off immediately by a wave of sick splashing into the porcelain while he attempted to move and take the weight off his left leg, shaking and already crying because he was pissed and it hurt and he couldn’t catch a damn break. Dry heaving and spluttering, he collapsed tiredly into the alcove between the toilet and the cabinets, one trembling arm draped over the seat and the other hand clutching his knee, eyes shut tightly against the light and the nausea and pain.

“Ky, hey, hey, oh, fuck, baby, shit, did you twist your knee? Okay, you’re okay, hold on-“

Kyle leaned over to retch again, choking out “YOU SMELL WRONG” because that’s all he could manage between gasps.

Stan yanked his shirt off and threw it through the open door into the hallway, past where Moose was watching with wide eyes from the threshold. “Okay, I’m sorry, is that better? Here.” He gently eased Kyle’s hand away from his leg, carefully straightening it out. “God, yeah, it’s already swelling.”

“WHY do I have to LIVE IN THIS GODDAMN FLESH PRISON?!?” Kyle slammed his fist against the floor, frustrated beyond belief. Stan caught his hand before he could do it again.

“Shh, Ky, c’mon. You’re okay, it’s fine.”

Seeing his husband like this, sick, aggravating his bad knee mid vomit, broke Stan’s heart. But he had him. He had him and wouldn’t let go. Was that dramatic? Absolutely. But when the fuck was he not dramatic about Kyle’s health?

“THAT FUCKING STUPID ASS NURSE!” Kyle was yelling. “Sending me sick kids, thinking they were just trying to get out of class, that BITCH!”

“Baby, dude, calm down, man, breathe.”

“YOU’RE ONE TO FUCKING TALK!”

Alright, point to Kyle. Stan sighed as Kyle heaved over the toilet again, expelling nothing but water. They really needed to get something in him before he wound up needing the hospital again. Stan gently rubbed his husband’s back as he hiccuped and cried, clearly feeling betrayed by his body. A few minutes of heavy breathing, and Kyle was pulling back up. “I- I think I’m d-done.”

“Alright dude, I’m gonna get you up now, that okay?”

“Mhm”

Very, very carefully, Stan hauled Kyle from the floor, mindful not to move his knee too much and going slow in case of another bout of nausea. Moose trotted into the bedroom after his dads, obviously distressed seeing Kyle cry and immediately curling back up against the redhead when Stan set him down.

Stan was honestly a little nauseous himself, because Kyle’s frustrated tears never failed to make him emotional too. But he knew what to do here, he reminded himself. Fever was coming down, leg flare up was pretty routine, Kyle would rant it out if he had to and Stan would be his yes-man, and liquids were probably going to be the staple for the rest of the day.

He rolled up a throw blanket and propped it under Kyle’s leg, taking some strain off the irritated joint and kissing his husband’s kneecap when he did so. “You want ice, babe?”

“Yes I want fucking ice,” Kyle mumbled, arms draped over his eyes.

Stan could admit to enjoying taking care of Kyle when he fucked up his knee; pissed off Kyle was cute. “Aw, baby, I got you.” He grabbed the takeout bag from the nightstand too, not knowing if the bbq smell was lingering there too. “I’ll stick this in the fridge for when you want something solid, okay? How ‘bout another Ensure?”

Kyle grumbled something inaudible that Stan took as a yes. Poor thing was so upset. But he had every right to be, and Stan would never be annoyed at him for that.

Downstairs, he debated making his husband a smoothie, but the blender was loud, and his head probably already hurt from throwing up. Instead, he just grabbed an ice pack and a shake (strawberry, still gross but the flavor Kyle hated the least), taking the time to scribble out the nutrition information, just in case. That practice was pretty much habit at this point; he’d started ripping off or crossing out the calories on food for Kyle when they were fourteen, when his favorite person was recovering from his eating disorder, and even if he’d been more than fine for a longgggg time, Stan was prone to reverting to the past. When Kyle wasn’t okay, for whatever reason, food lore got crossed out.

“Dude, you up?”

“Mm”

“Shit, babe.” Stan knelt by the bed to carefully apply the ice, reaching a hand up to thumb away a falling tear. “You just mad?”

“Fucking pissed,” Kyle moaned. “It’s not enough that I have the goddamn plague?!? I have to have to fuck my leg up too? My parents are, like twice our age and even they don’t have fucking arthritis!” Kyle pointed two middle fingers to the ceiling as a ‘fuck you’ to god, which was actually pretty funny, but Stan didn’t laugh. That would only make his husband madder.

“Ky, c’mon.” Stan cupped under his head to kiss his cheek, relishing in the subtle smile that action brought. “And your parents didn’t shred tendons and refuse to do physical therapy.”

“I am damn well aware my goddamn arthritis is my own fault, Staniel.” But he sighed contentedly, adjusting the ice pack before leaning back against the pillows. “That helps. I’m sorry.”

Declaring the anger over for now, Stan climbed into bed beside him. “Don’t be sorry, dude. How’s your stomach?”

“I don’t fucking feel good.”

“I know, dude, can you drink a little water? We have to keep you hydrated.”

“It’ll just come back up.”

“Not necessarily.”

Moose crawled up between his dads, small furry head on Kyle’s shoulder, knowing he needed comfort. Kyle rubbed his face on the cat. “Babyman, did I scare you last night? I did, huh?”

“Dude,” Stan started, “he’s fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine. Drink something and don’t move your leg.”

“I didn’t shred my tendons, by the way.” Kyle protested. “I just tore some shit a little.”

“Enough that it’s a problem even now.”

“See, you get it.”

Stan laughed. “Quit being a dick and go to sleep, baby. You know you’ll feel better. I’m right here, dude, whatever you need.”

“I’m not being a dick, I’m being contrary.”

“Same difference.”

“Mm.”

God, poor Kyle, pissed off, sick, having a flare up on top of everything else. “Dude, what do you need?”

“Leg hurts.”

“We have a pack on it, dude. Maybe some ibuprofen? You should take some for the fever anyway.”

“It hurts.”

Stan started to gently rub his partner’s knee. “I know, babe. I know it’s hurting.”

“I hit it on the floor.”

“I know you did.”

“Fuck this shit.”

Kyle knew he was being a total dramatic asshole, but he didn’t care. God had fucked him over; he could be a dick. That made sense. “I’m mad, dude.”

“That’s okay.”

And no he didn’t have the right to be mad. Stan was being so sweet. Always. Any time Kyle’s meat suit betrayed him and he got upset about it, Stan was there, doting and adorable as ever. “I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep.”

“Something bad’s gonna happen.”

“Oh, dude.” Stan wrapped around him, carefully. “We’re not OCD spiraling. We’re not. A little rest, alright?”

In actuality, Kyle was too tired to argue.

It had to have been a few hours when Stan felt Kyle stir against his chest, swinging over to get out of bed… and promptly falling with a loud “FUCK!”

“Ky?”

“I FUCKING FORGOT ABOUT MY GODDAMN LEG!!!”

Stan sprang off the bed then too, getting on the floor beside his hyperventilating husband. “Dude, shhh, okay, okay, straighten it out.”

Sobbing, Kyle did. “D-don’t, freak, okay? I moved it weird, that’s all.”

“It’s fine, dude. Look at me. I’m not freaking out.” He was just doing a good job hiding it. Stan hated seeing Kyle cry, emotional, probably still feverish and nauseated, trying to get up in the middle of the night and falling on his knee, just the perfect storm of fucked up shit. But Kyle needed to stay calm, above all else. “What did you need, dude? Let me help you.”

“Water,” Kyle mumbled dejectedly.

“And guess what? You have me for that.” Stan carefully felt around his husband’s leg. “Can I turn a light on?”

Kyle responded by throwing up into the trash can, which had Stan gagging too. Fuck. Honestly, he was surprised he lasted so long without sympathy puking. “Hold on, baby.”

Stan rushed to the bathroom to empty his own stomach, somehow only just noticing that he still hadn’t put a shirt on from earlier. And Kyle hadn’t said anything about him wearing “outside pants” in bed, either, which was probably the best indicator of how sick he was.

Flushing down the panic induced vomit, Stan stood and glared at his reflection while he rinsed his mouth out, gulping a few handfuls of water from the sink. He had to keep it together. He needed a plan. Okay. Get Kyle back in bed, check his temperature and blood sugar, go downstairs to fill up his water and feed Moose, go from there.

Kyle had curled up on the floor back in the bedroom, and Moose had the zoomies. Stan sighed.

“Dude, okay, let’s get up.”

“Moving sucks ass.”

“I know it does, babe, but the bed is better than the floor.”

“Quit being right,” Kyle mumbled, allowing himself to be helped back under the covers. Stan snagged his readers from the nightstand, flipping on the lamp and grabbing the thermometer too.

“Okay, melmë, let’s see.”

Kyle smiled a little. “You look like a dad.”

“I am a dad,” he reminded him. Even if he’d bemoaned needing reading glasses and his body getting softer with age, his sentimental side was happy he had made it this far in life, especially with Kyle at his side. “Our son is bouncing off the walls as we speak. Open.”

Down to 100.3, thank whoever the fuck was up there. Maybe he should be thanking Kyle’s God, not having any attachment to one of his own. When he’d first started AA and found that part of the whole thing was putting things in the hands of a higher power, he had posed the question of what to do if you weren’t particularly religious to his sponsor. Mark had said “hell, put your faith in the doorknob if you want. Got you in here, didn’t it?”

“What’s the damage?” Kyle inquired.

“Definitely better. You want to check your levels or can I?”

Kyle slowly opened his eyes. “I got it, sweetheart, you’ve been doing so much.”

“Because I want to.”

“I’m difficult.”

Stan brought Kyle’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. “It so isn’t your fault that you got sick, or that you hurt your knee, or that you have diabetes. In sickness and in health, right?” Kyle’s fond grin only grew, and Stan decided to let up on the overbearingness. He snatched Moose up quickly on the cat’s next lap around the room. “I’m filling your water and feeding the dragon, okay? Be right back.”

So he had sweat out most of the fever, it seemed like. Judging by how sticky he felt, Kyle was fairly certain he was over the worst. At least in terms of the fucking stomach flu. His leg was a different story.

It was dim in the bedroom with only a sliver of moonlight slipping through the window, and the soft light from the lamp, but he could feel that he’d aggravated his knee pretty bad. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. The cartilage felt like it was grinding when he shifted. Kyle groaned in frustration, debating trying to hop over to the closet for his brace, but deciding against it, because Stan would flip his lid if he saw him standing. And considering what his blood sugar was at, being vertical was a bad idea anyway.

Said husband returned to the room. “I come bearing gifts for the king!”

Dork. Freshly refilled water, a KMBS, sleeve of crackers. Stan presented the juice. “Your elixir, melda târ. And-“ he beelined for the top of the closet, clearly having read Kyle’s mind.

“Thank you, my most dutiful and trusted of knights.” Kyle let him secure the knee brace, watching as those careful, strong, gentle hands worked, as Stan leaned down to kiss his leg when he was done. His Stan. His sweet Sir Marshwalker.

“Oh, shit, dude, are you crying? Does it hurt that much?” Stan was up by his face again. Kyle shook his head.

“It’s not that; I just- I really fucking love you,” he sobbed.

“Aw, baby, come here.” Stan climbed into bed and wrapped around him again, avoiding touching his husband’s stomach or leg. A little jingle of Moose’s collar announced their boy’s return to the bedroom, a tiny *prrrt* as the cat settled back at Kyle’s side. “You’re not as warm as you were, Ky, I think you’re getting better. That’s good, my love, you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Kyle murmured against him, damp eyelashes tickling Stan’s chest. “You still don’t have a shirt on.”

Stan laughed. So he had noticed. “You complaining?”

“You know I’m not.”

[sinclqir]

something?

warnings: smut, angst? idk?, unreciprocated feelings (but not really?)

papa emeritus iv x male reader

word count: no fkn clue

——

papas moans were loud, his hands gripping the sheets as his face was pressed against the covers. his back was arched as your hands gripped his hips, his paints were smudged on the bed as tears flowed down his face, not from pain, but from pure pleasure.

“s-sei così profondo! y-y/n!” papas voice was so broken, a mixture between a whine and a moan. with every thrust you gave to him, his cock rubbed against the bed, doubling the pleasure. he couldn’t get enough, but it was too much at the same time.

papa and you’s relationship was…complicated. this was a regular occurrence, fucking him ruthlessly at LEAST three times a week. you did have feelings for him, but he made it clear that he wasn’t interested in you that way. it was fine at first, just pure sex. aside from these interactions, he would barely speak to you, not sparing you a pacing glance. he was too busy flirting and messing around with other siblings of sin, it hurt. quite a bit. after every meetup, he would send you on your way, which only hurt more. after a while, it was just normal, the feelings for him faded away.

you started to talk to more siblings of sin, sleeping around more often. before papa, you were reserved, more shyer than anything. when he proposed the idea, you accepted, already having a crush on him. then when he showed he was only interested for the sex, the feelings died down, knowing your place.

papa noticed how you started to mess around more, a weird twinge of jealousy bubbling in his chest. he tried to suppress those feelings for you that started to come, not wanting to commit. but the way you talked to him, in and out of the bedroom, it made him feel like he was young again. he hated the look on your face whenever he told you to leave after a night of pleasure, he wanted nothing more than for you to stay with him, cuddle him to sleep. tonight, he wouldn’t do that, he wanted to see you in the afterglow, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. he even stopped flirting with other siblings, only wanting you.

he snapped out of his thoughts as your cock hit his prostate, his eyes rolling back into his head as a moan rippled through his chest. you were the best he’s ever had, he was addicted, to not only your dick, but to you in general.

“i-i’m…im close, y/n,” papa whined, pushing back to meet your thrusts. your hair fell in front of your face, sweat dripping down your body. your hand laced into his hair, gripping harshly, “yeah? cum for me,” you groaned, feeling your own orgasm coming close.

with a few more hits to his prostate, papa came all over the sheets, his legs shaking wildly. his voice was gone at this point, but he managed to let out a raspy moan. you followed his release right after, cumming deep into him, painting his insides white. he panted, trying to catch his breath.

you already knew the drill at this point, pulling out of him and getting off the bed. papa whined at the loss, but was too much in a state of bliss to realize what was happening. he waited for you to check on him, but when you didn’t, he felt a pang of hurt. he flipped onto his back and looked at you, a complete mess. “y-y/n…wait-“ he breathed out. you were already buttoning your shirt back on when you heard his voice, “what?” you asked, still slightly out of breath. “where are you going, tesoro?” he asked softly, running his hand through his hair.

you looked at him with furrowed brows, “leaving.” you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. you could see the flash of sadness go across his face, “y/n, you don’t have to go.” he said quietly.

then it came, those feelings that had died down for the man came rushing back, but the thought that he maybe wanted to go for round three whipped through your mind. you cleared your throat, “why do you want me to stay?” you asked, a bit harsher than you intended. papa flinched at your use of tone, “i-i just…want you to s-stay is all,” he lied. he wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how he only wanted you.

you couldn’t help yourself, making papa feel bad made you feel like shit. you stopped buttoning your shirt, it halfway done as you walked over to him. you grabbed some tissues from his bedside table and cleaned his stomach, papa didn’t question it. you cleaned away the mixture of his and your cum, and sweat off his body. he closed his eyes, feeling sleepy now. “stay? please…” papa whispered, it sounded so sweet and those words were what you always wanted to hear. you nodded and took off your shirt again, stripping down to your boxers and laying down beside him. you didn’t dare to cuddle him, but when he snuggled closely to your side, you melted and wrapped your arm around him, holding him close.

he hummed in delight, laying his head on your chest. “y/n…i-…” the words died in his throat, nerves creeping into his being. your hand came up to play with his hair, and his anxiety faded away, “i love you.” he said, his voice barely audible. you froze, did he just say that? “really? you’re not playing with me?” you asked, hesitant to believe him. “y-yes, caro. i’m sorry i haven’t said it sooner…i was….nervous.” papa said, keeping his face away from yours incase your reaction was one he didn’t want. “papa…i’ve been waiting for you to say that.” he lifted his head up and looked at you, his eyes wide as a blush was spread across his face. (his paints were nearly gone at this point.) “really? you mean it, s-si?” he asked, looking for confirmation in your eyes. you smiled at his reaction and nodded your head, “si, i love you too.” and with that, you leaned in and kissed him softly.

papa was beaming, kissing your back just as softly but with his adrenaline, it was a bit more forceful. you chuckled along his lips and pulled back, resting your foreheads together. he kissed your cheek and laid his head back down on your chest, also giving it a kiss as well.

from that night on, it was just you two. the only person for eachother, soulmates.