#anyways if your weather looks like this be safe and take care of yourself!

[galpal95]

Welp…

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Go Home - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 2667>

What. A. Fucking. Day. 

You were running around the Ferrari hospitality, with practically no energy after being up all night. The fact that you had even made it into work was an absolute miracle, but you thought that doing something with yourself might help you take your mind off of how you were feeling. 

It was safe to say that it didn't. If anything, it just made it worse. Your body felt more fatigued the more you moved, and plenty of people had noticed. They all asked if you were feeling OK, and you always responded with a meek 'yeah, yeah, just feeling a little under the weather.'

One of the many people to notice this was Charles. He had seen that you weren't your usual, perky self, and that concerned him slightly. After seeing you around for a few hours, not getting noticeably better, Charles took it upon himself to approach you. 

You had just walked out of Fred's office after delivering some papers, and he was stood in the corridor, seemingly waiting to go in. "Hey Charles," you greeted, sending him a small yet weak smile. You didn't want him to be the next person to ask how you were feeling, but you could sense it coming anyway.

"Hey, you OK? You're not looking too good..." he sheepishly said, not wanting to upset you, but still wanting to show that he cared about your current condition. 

"Oh thanks, Charles," you rolled your eyes, walking away from him. Instantly, you felt bad that you had reacted like that, knowing he was just trying to be nice and knowing that your attitude was uncalled for.

But, you really weren't feeling like making kind smalltalk with someone. You weren't in any mood to turn around and apologise either, so you just figured you would say sorry to him when you were feeling better. 

Shortly after, you heard footsteps behind you in the corridor. Charles knew you didn't mean it and it was just because you were feeling shitty, so he didn't take it to heart. If anything, it made him even more worried for you and whether you should actually be at work or not. 

"Y/N, hey, no, wait," he called after you, speeding up so he could catch up to you. "You really don't look too good, are you sure you don't need anything? I've got some extra time if you want some help with some stuff." he said, hoping that you'd allow him to take some of the load off of you so that you could relax for a bit. 

"No, no," you declined, thinking that he had something better to be doing with his time. He was just as busy as you were, if not more. Plus, you didn't want to give him whatever it was you had just in case it would hinder his racing ability. 

"Are you sure? I really don't mind, it'd be-" he started, but you cut him off with a sigh. 

"Charles, I've got it, OK? I do appreciate the offer, really, but you're just as busy as I am." you interjected, turning around and walking off from him again. Charles huffed to himself, unsure of what to do. 

He was certain that you running around and working yourself to the bone wasn't what was going to help your illness, but he also knew that you were stubborn as a mule and it'd take a hell of a lot of convincing to get you to change your mind.

For the time being, he resigned himself to the fact that you were going to carry on working. He'd keep an eye on you for the rest of the day, and if you got any worse, he would simply have to force you to go home. 

An hour or so later, Charles spotted you in the cafeteria, pushing your food around your plate with your fork. His heart dropped slightly as he saw your face. You had paled in colour, your nose and cheeks contrasting against your skin as they were as red as your polo that you had on. 

He leant against the wall with his arms crossed for a short while, his eyes glued on you. Your shoulders were hunched, one of your arms wrapped around your stomach. He spotted the subconscious, self-soothing gesture, and his hard expression softened. 

You really didn't look good, not at all. Definitely not good enough to be staying at work and slaving away for the rest of the day. Slowly, Charles stepped towards your table, the other people around knowing that it'd take a miracle to convince you to chill it out. 

"Hey, can I sit?" he quietly said, gesturing to one of the chairs at your otherwise empty table. You craned your neck to look up at him, leaning back and taking your arm away from your stomach. 

"Yeah, course," you nodded, watching as he pulled out the chair next to you and sat down on it. With one elbow on the table, Charles rested his chin on his hand. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked, the question obviously leading. It was with an expectant answer, an answer consisting of you telling him how horrendous you felt and how you needed to go home. 

However, you replied with a simple, "I'm fine." Charles groaned, running a hand through his chocolate locks. 

"You're not fine, OK? Look at you, you look dead on your feet," he said, frustration seeping through his words. He never understood why you were always so stubborn, especially when it came to your own wellbeing. 

Going home was clearly the best option for you and your health, but you refused to just give up your pride and perfect work-attendance record and go home. "I'm just feeling a bit rough, it's nothing serious," you tried to reassure him, knowing he wasn't going to back down on the matter easily. 

"Nothing serious? You're pale as a ghost, you clearly have 0 energy, and it is just obvious that you feel absolutely awful!" he snapped, unable to keep his temper in check. He wasn't snapping out of anger, and you knew that. 

He was snapping out of pure consideration for you and comfort. Deep down, he knew that you were hurting and in no condition to be there, but that didn't stop his temperament from clocking out for a moment. 

He saw the dejected look on your face, the softness creeping back into his features. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. Getting mad at you wouldn't make you listen to him, he knew that, but he still wanted to try and convince you.

"Please, just go back to the hotel. I'm worried about you, you know?" Charles said, hoping that by revealing his feelings, it might incline you to listen to him. "I'll make sure all of your work is done, I promise. You won't have to worry about a thing."

"But I've got so much to do, and I don't want to force someone else to work that I can-" 

"No, don't tell me you can do it. You can't do it. And I won't let you," Charles cut you off, squeezing your hand. "I'll take you back, make sure you're comfy, and I will have it all taken care of." he repeated.

For once, you were actually considering doing what he said. Your body was crying out for you just to retire to your bed for the remainder of the day and just rest. Sleep off the sickness and come back to work your usual self. 

There was the problem of your work, but you truly did trust that Charles would have it taken care of. He wasn't the kind of guy to make promises that he couldn't keep, and he would make sure your work got done on time and as it was supposed to be done. 

He took your silence as a yes, since you'd usually give him attitude if you were refusing his requests. He hated seeing you like this: tired, sick and downright dejected. A small part of him was screaming at him to just wrap you up in his arms and take care of you until you were back to your usual self.

In some ways, you being like this hurt him too. He didn't like it when you pushed yourself this far and risked your own health and wellbeing just for the sake of a job. Yes, he did admire it, but his dislike for it heavily out-weighed his recognition of the trait. 

"When was the last time you ate something? And don't bother lying to me," he sternly asked, and you knew it wasn't time to try and fool him with a clearly false answer.

"Yesterday. Well, more specifically, last night." you quietly told him, his eyes searching your face for any hint of deception. Yet, he found nothing but sincerity, and the pointed look in his eyes mellowed out once again. 

"And what did you have?"

"Just some soup and crackers from room service," you told him, and the sigh he let out was audible and slightly disappointed. 

"Jesus Christ... you're running on fumes," he mumbled, "How much did you sleep last night?" Charles asked, even though he could tell it wasn't much from your sluggish posture and dark under eye circles. 

"I can't tell you how much exactly but it wasn't much at all," you told him, now actually looking forward to going to bed for the rest of the day. 

"Come on, we're going. I will sort everything," he reassured, standing from his seat and offering a hand out to you. You took his hand, letting him help you up. Charles felt a small pang of satisfaction ripple through him when you allowed him to assist you. 

Silently, he led you out of the paddock and to the parking lot, where he navigated you over to his car and sat you down in it. You were slightly worried about getting fired for just randomly leaving, but if Charles asked Fred, pretty much anything was possible. 

The car ride was wordless while he manoeuvred through the streets, until he pulled up in a spare parking space near the hotel. Charles helped you out of the car and all the way up to your room. 

Now that he was close up to you, he saw how gaunt your expression was. He really didn't want to just leave you here to fend for yourself, since he didn't think you had the strength or energy to do so properly. 

"Can I come in with you?" he asked once you had reached the door to your room. You nodded, unlocking the door and gesturing him inside. To say that you had been in such a state, the room was in fairly good order. 

You hadn't made the bed, which was understandable given how bad your morning must have been, but the rest of the room was relatively clean. "You sit, I'll get you something to change into," he told you, walking up to the wardrobe. 

Opening it, it was mostly just your teamwear since you were only there for work and wouldn't have the time for much tourism. Rifling through your clothes, he found a soft pair of shorts and one of your Ferrari hoodies that he thought looked comfy enough. 

Turning around, he saw you already shuffled under the covers and sinking into the pillows. "You comfy?" he smiled, the sight of you lead there making his heart beat a little quicker. He really didn't want to leave you here - he wanted to stay by your side where he could make sure you were OK.

"Arms up," he softly said, helping you to sit up. "Can I?" he requested, asking for your permission as his hands hovered over the buttons of your polo. You nodded, and he quickly unbuttoned them and pulled the shirt off over your head.

If he wasn't focused on how sick you were, he would be practically salivating at how stunning you were, but now wasn't the time for that, and he understood. You were vulnerable, and he would be pretty damn pissed with himself if he allowed himself to think like that.

Pulling the hoodie on over your body, he reached a hand around your neck to pull your ponytail out. "I'll let you do those yourself," he gently chuckled, placing the shorts next to you and facing away from you around to give you some privacy. 

Charles heard the sound of a zipper and the rustling of fabric, finally followed by the sound of you shimmying back under the covers. "Do you need anything else?" he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to you. 

"No, no, I should be good," you told him, and Charles wasn't buying it for a second. It was at that point where the part of him that was compelling him to stay by your side and take care of you, protect you, love you won out. 

"You do realise that I'm not going anywhere?" 

"Charles, no, you're busy and-"

"Sweetheart, no. You need me, they'll be able to do it, I'm sure," he told you, and when you didn't argue back, he really grew concerned. Even when you were sick, you were normally able to bite back and give him some sass back. 

The fact that you had just accepted your fate worried him, even if he was relieved that he wouldn't have to try and convince you again. "I'll get you a water and some medicine, and then I'll sit here for the rest of the day or until you get better. Whichever happens first," he told you. 

Charles didn't miss the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips, and he was glad that he could bring a bit of brightness to your day. Disappearing into the bathroom, he filled up a glass with water and rummaged around in the cabinets for some paracetamol. 

"Now you're going to take these, and then you're going to sit back and rest and let me dote on you."  he said with a slightly teasing tone, handing you the two small, white pills and watched as you popped them into your mouth before lifting the glass of water to your lips and encouraging you to take a sip. 

Once you had drank around half of the glass, Charles left it on the bedside table. "I want you to try and get some sleep, OK?" he said.

"Yeah, sure," you agreed, snuggling down into the covers. He hated having you just lie there when he felt that you needed his physical support as well as his emotional support. Just getting to hold you would surely make you feel better, and him too.

"Hey sweetheart?"

"Yeah? You OK?" you asked, and he couldn't help but grin. Even when you were feeling horrendous, you were still making sure he was OK. 

"I'm fine, yeah. Can I just... can I hold you? Or hug you? Or anything? I just feel so useless," he mumbled, instantly feeling like an idiot. But, before he could get ahead of himself, you responded. 

"Be my guest," you told him. Charles moved under the covers and then next to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, gently tugging you towards him to that you could rest your head on his chest. 

You could hear the steady pound of his heartbeat, and it was a very soothing sound. Charles let out a sigh of contentment, glad that he was able to provide some semblance of comfort. He felt your weight against him as you relaxed, meaning he was doing his job right. 

Despite you feeling no where near 100%, he was glad that he could be the person who you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with and the person that would take care of you. You trusted him, and that was more than enough.

Plus, he'd be happy with cuddles anyday, whether you were sick or not.  

A/N - Hey loves! Hoping you're all doing well! I do have a little thing for the 5 year anniversary of Charles' 2019 Monza win, but it is nothing special. It is just a lil ol' something that I whipped up. Not really a story, but hey. It'll do. Have a wonderful day/night!💖

|masterlist|

[aliensupastar]

shouldn’t feel like a crime

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You finally try Carmy’s cooking. Follow-up to “not wrong, but not right”

Part I Part III

Warnings: minor angst, comfort, fluff, depiction of an eating disorder, food and eating, healing?

A/N: first off, thank you all so much for the love on the first part! i wrote it as a comfort during a difficult time and it was so nice to see people enjoy it. i didn’t intend on writing more for it, but a few people asked for it and i finally got an idea for a follow-up! as a disclaimer, i wrote most of this before season 2 came out and edited it afterwards, but there are no spoilers. gif by emziess <3

Carmy is a good boss. You know this, you’ve known it for months. His sometimes-abrasive idiolect aside, he runs the restaurant like he cares about every brick that built it, every burner the crew uses to make each dish, every ticket that comes through that god-forsaken machine on the expo station. It makes any screaming match easily forgivable, and any nightmare lunch rush endurable. 

What you didn’t know was that Carmy could also be a good friend. Since your stint in the emergency room he’s made good on his agreement with you, without ever being overwhelming. He’s instead mercifully subtle. There’s a few bottles of lemonade kept in the office’s mini-fridge now, for when you get dizzy. He’s lent you that coat of his a few times, when the night air ends up chillier than you predicted that morning, and you’ve left your own jacket at home. And he never fails to give you a look, during the busiest hours at the restaurant, communicating quickly, and quietly: Are you good? And you know if the answer is no, he’ll let you take a breather without a single complaint, but you always respond with a quick nod and push through the rest of the shift.

In turn, you do your best not to worry him. You take vitamins and get better sleep and try to stop pushing yourself to the brink of passing out. You even eat one of your safe foods in front of him, at family while everyone else enjoyed the samosas Ebrahaim had cooked up that day, and for once it felt good to eat; the constant playful bickering and banter a welcome distraction from the usual stress that follows your meals. 

It’s nice. Maybe you don’t necessarily feel like you’re getting better, just more… stable. Less like you’re in a free-fall and more like you’ve got both feet on solid ground. 

When you go to leave after closing up one night and find that it’s raining, impeding you from making your usual trek to the train station, you turn back and head to the office. And a few months ago, you might’ve been too nervous around Carmy to even ask to stay in the restaurant an extra hour, preferring to brave the cold rain and let your clothes get soaked and heavy rather than hang around. You’re relieved, now, to find Carmy right where you left him when you said goodnight just a minute ago, ready to save you from a miserable trip home. 

“What’s up?” He asks when he spots you. 

“It’s raining.” You tell him, nodding your head in the direction of the back door. “Didn’t bring an umbrella. Do you mind if I stick around for a bit, just ‘till it stops?” 

“Yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be here finishing up for a while, anyway,” He says, then continues after a brief pause. “Y’know you really gotta stop relying on that iPhone weather app.”

You scoff, shaking your head at his teasing. 

“You know I’m too lazy to start using another one.”

“I’m just sayin’.” He pushes out of his chair and walks past you, into the kitchen, grabbing a sponge and the container of soap water he uses to clean the countertops. 

“You want help?” You offer, already taking off your coat and tossing it onto the office chair. 

“Nah, you already clocked out. Don’t worry about it.” He replies, not even looking up as he begins to scrub, but you pick up a sponge anyway and get to work on the counter behind him. 

You fall into a comfortable silence for a while after that, only broken by the sound of rough sponges scraping away at the grime and the faint patter of rain on the roof of the building, and part of you wishes you had more opportunities for this. More time spent with him, outside of the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, even if it’s spent cleaning. His presence has become something you’d rather not avoid, even if it makes your heart race; the unique scent of him on the coat you’ve borrowed is becoming familiar, comforting. 

“Glad it wasn’t busy today.” Your train of thought is interrupted by his sudden comment, but you quickly nod. 

“Practically a miracle, for a Friday.” You agree, hearing him chuckle behind you. 

“Didn’t need that shit today, anyways, not while I’m on,” He says. He was working the stovetop today, alongside Sydney, making an efficient team as they churned out dishes quicker than the customers could file in. It made your day a little easier, the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen while you savored the downtime granted by the slow day. 

“I’ve never tried your cooking,” You say offhandedly, but your words make him pause and look back at you, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“Really?” He asks, and you nod. “You’ve worked here for months, though.” 

“I know.” You shrug. 

“How come?” 

That makes you stop scrubbing, turning slightly to look at him. 

“Think you know the answer to that one, chef.” You tease, before continuing to work. He huffs out a laugh, but keeps staring at your back while you scrub. 

“I could make you something.” He finally says, and it makes you truly stop, turning to face him fully. 

“Y’all just cleaned this whole kitchen.” Now it’s his turn to shrug. 

“I don’t mind.” You give him an incredulous look.

“I- If you think I’m gonna help you clean the stove and the plates again, you’re wrong.” Carmy just shakes his head, tossing his sponge back into the container of water and grabbing a few clean pans. 

“C’mon, I can’t have you walking around saying you’ve never tried the food at the restaurant you work at,” He says. “You like spaghetti?”

He’s casual in the way he asks, but you’re still standing by the counter, eyebrows raised in shock. Your mind is starting to race, the way it does every time you’re faced with food, but Carmy’s already pouring olive oil into a saucepan and brandishing his chef knife to chop an onion. 

You approach the stove he’s standing at carefully, like it might just burst into flames, and you can already smell the familiar scent of garlic and olive oil and god, he’s only been at it for a minute and it already smells like heaven in this kitchen. 

“Smell good?” 

“Yeah,” You practically breathe out. “Shit, smells amazing.” 

He smiles at that, a rare thing to see on his face. He’s thoughtful for a moment, before saying:

“This is, uh, Mikey’s recipe, actually.” 

Your eyes widen, a bit taken aback by his mention of his late brother. At least, his mention of Mikey to you. 

You’d learned about what happened to Michael just a few weeks after being hired, after having witnessed the heavy silence that overtook the room when he’d been mentioned, and asking Marcus after work what all that had been about. Since you received your explanation, you’ve tried to mind your own business when the melancholy that came with Michael’s memory returned, giving those who seemed to know him best room to process before getting back to work. 

Carmy’s never talked about Mikey to you directly; no one has. You’re not sure what to say. 

“Mikey, that’s… your brother, right?” You ask hesitantly, even if you already know the answer before Carmy nods. 

“Yeah. He used to run this place, before it was The Bear.” He tells you. 

“Before?” Your confusion and surprise seeps into your tone. “What was it before?”

“Still a restaurant, but, quick service. Italian sandwiches. We weren’t called The Bear, we were-“ He chuckles, caught up in reminiscing. “We were called The Original Beef of Chicagoland.” 

“No shit! This used to be The Beef?” He nods his confirmation and you’re instantly brought back, the memory faded like an old photo that’s been shoved into storage and forgotten. The only thing that wasn’t hard to recall was the sandwich you’d ordered, practically dripping with flavor, the exact kind of comfort food you’d needed that day.

“Been here before?” He asks.

“Yeah, I just- I didn’t recognise it.” You’d sat at a table across from the friend that dragged you to the slightly shabby establishment, silently relishing in the deliciousness of your food before the panic could set in, so enraptured by it you didn’t even care about the booming voice coming from behind a door that presumably led to the kitchen. Not even when the person it belonged to came out to the front and-

“Mikey, was he like, tall? Black hair?” You suddenly ask, gesturing how tall you’d remembered the man being, and now Carmy’s the one that’s confused. 

“Uh, yeah. You- you knew Mikey?” He sounds a little breathless when he asks, but you shake your head. 

“No, but when I came here before, he was still running the place, I guess. And just… loud as shit. Hard to ignore,” You look up and meet Carmy’s eyes. “Hard to forget.” 

You both share a laugh at that, at the memory of his brother that he loved, and that you barely even knew. 

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like him.” The sweet smile stays on his face as he chops and sautées, refusing to let you do more than start boiling the spaghetti for him. All you can do is watch the pasta and watch him as he navigates his brother’s recipe like it’s pure muscle memory. 

As much as you like to steal glances at him during opening prep, you don’t get to see as much of him during service hours. You’re just as busy working front-of-house, keeping people happy and keeping Richie off your ass, as he is while he’s trying to keep up on dishes. You don’t get a ton of chances to see him like this, in his element. He plates the finished spaghetti perfectly, in two bowls, so you know he won’t let you eat alone. 

Still, the anxiety in your stomach rises when you accept the fork Carmy hands you, and you can’t help but pause. He does, too, and you know he easily recognises the cause of your trepidation. 

“What’s up?” He asks, his voice gentle. You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the conflict in your mind, but you can’t stop yourself from saying it. 

“Do you… just, maybe have an idea of-“

“I have no clue how many calories are in this.” He answers your question before you can even ask it, and you can’t help but let out a breath of amusement — at yourself, at him for somehow knowing. 

It’s his gentle smile, one that lacks judgment or pity, that pushes you to finally swirl the spaghetti around your fork and take a bite and-

Oh my god. 

You can’t help the moan that escapes you during that first bite, ignoring Carmy’s chuckle at your slight dramatics. You can see why he’s hot shit in the restaurant world; the dish barely looked fancy or complicated when he’d made it, certainly not as complicated as anything on the menu, but somehow it tastes better than any pasta you’ve ever had. You would say you’re in disbelief, but you don’t pause long enough to think about anything but this, how amazing every flavor bursting on your tongue is.

Carmy finishes his pasta before you do, but he stands next to you till your bowl is empty, before taking it over to the dish pit and beginning to scrub down all the dishware he’d used. And you stand there for a second, staring at his back, unable to process all the emotion filling you as he washes your bowl. The bowl he let you get dirty, because he wanted you to be able to try his food. 

The utter warmth flooding your senses is almost overwhelming.

Then, despite your earlier protests, you pick up the sponge he abandoned earlier and get to scrubbing the stovetop down again. You ignore the few warm tears that escape your waterline in the process. 

You mindlessly follow Carmy around as he walks through each room, shutting off lights and locking the front entrance and office doors. When you inevitably make your way to the back exit, you push open the door only to find that it’s still raining, worse than it was hours ago. You can only sigh and lean your head against the doorway in defeat. 

“Need a ride?” Carmy offers easily. 

You think back to the frame that sits on the countertop out front, holding a slightly crumpled index card: “I love you, dude. Let it rip.” Words you’ve seen nearly every day since your first on the job; you just now realize they’re probably Michael’s.

It feels like too much. The letting you stick around, the pasta, the… everything. 

You nod anyways, accepting Carmy’s offer, letting him lead you to his car, and he lets you lead the way home.

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 7)

Vol 1 Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 (Not Required) Vol 8 Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader

When Nanami goes on a work trip, his cute little housewife can’t help but miss him…

Word Count: 1.8k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!Reader, lightly suggestive, wearing Nanami's shirt...

A/n: I was feeling like writing something cute... hope you enjoy!

“Goodbye, my darling, stay safe,” were the last words you muttered to your husband, Nanami, before giving him a kiss as he left the house. Even to him, going on a trip without you was unfathomable, though it had only been three months since your marriage.

It was a work trip for three days, more or less to entertain the heads of a business Nanami’s company was hoping to partner with. It was not his intention to get chosen, there were plenty of other employees, but his standout reputation as a professional, down to business senior manager made him an easy candidate. 

Nanami wiped his forehead with the cloth you had packed with his lunch, something that he appreciated after hearing the news. His boss’s booming enthusiasm had him somewhat hesitant to downright decline the offer, especially the part about him being on the only one who could do the job. 

Maybe he was starting to like doing the bare minimum to keep on top of his work. Being a slacker wasn’t something to be proud of, but it sure was easier than caring in his case. His demeanor was far more dignified than the younger employees, and it’s not like he didn’t produce good results for the company. But the one thing he didn’t want, was for it to take away from his time with you, and any more attention on him from the higher-ups would do just that.

Instead, it was you who inspired him to go. Something about being able to plan a surprise for him for when he got back, the encouragement for him to do something that would hopefully make him get to know his coworkers better.

While you were happy to know your husband was doing well at work, you still got that sinking feeling when he brought the topic up. “Of course you should go, we don’t have anything planned this week and it isn’t that far away,” you fake smiled your way through the conversation, trying to come up with a reason. It would be the first time you were alone in the house for that long without him, you hadn’t gone on a trip since your honeymoon together. 

“Since this one is short, it could help you make up your mind on doing other ones…” you mumbled, carefully stacking the plates on top of each other and carrying them to the kitchen. “I know, but I still don’t want to leave you alone,” Nanami groaned, “Besides, I would rather not spend more time working than I have to.” You sat back down at the table. 

“Don’t you also get a few days off afterwords? We could do something together. I have been meaning to get some things done anyways…” you muttered, giving him a look. “Some things… do indulge me, my love,” he smirked back at you. “A surprise,” you shook your head as he laughed. “Fine, I’ll contact my department,” he stood up, sighing in exhaustion. 

Nanami left for his three day long trip, though not without a yellow scarf carefully tied around his neck, and a neatly ironed jacket. The weather had said it would be windy where he was going. After loading up his bags in the car, he was being picked up by a coworker, the two of you said your final goodbyes, and then he was gone. 

That was in the early morning when it still felt like a normal day. You went about your morning and afternoon routine, you had still packed him a lunchbox to take with him. The sun was shining, and aside from the absent-minded glances at your wedding photo on the table next to the couch, it seemed the same. 

Inevitably, the evening came, and by the usual 5:35 Nanami still wasn’t home. Of course he wouldn’t be, he was hours away. You tried to entertain yourself, first eating a dinner consisting of leftovers, and then sitting down on the couch to do the final touches on the new suit jacket you were making for him.

It wasn’t your best work, as you were more used to sewing simple dresses, aprons, and occasionally mending things, so it was the first undertaking of a challenge like that. Getting your husband’s measurements in an inconspicuous manor was a struggle as well, leafing through his closet in hopes of finding a note from the tailors. 

A light gray suit jacket, something functional he might be able to wear to work if it was taken to an actual tailors and fixed, but after two months of work in your free time, you were quite proud of what you had created. It was something Nanami could hold onto as a gift from his lovely wife. 

The next day was the first without him there at all. As you washed the dishes, all you could think about was calling him, though you knew he would be in meetings all day and would call you when he had the chance. But finally that day passed and it became the third, and you were truly grateful he would be home in the morning. 

You dressed yourself in a light pink nightgown, it was Nanami’s favorite. The two nights before had been the worst sleep you’d gotten in a very long time, missing Nanami’s weight behind you while he wrapped his arms around your waist. You sighed, pulling it off and hanging it up again, instead opting for one of Nanami’s sleeping shirts, one that was just worn by him briefly before he left. He would be home soon afterall, it would be a waste to wear it just for yourself. 

You put your hair up, sinking into bed. It only reminded you of that conversation the two of you had right after your marriage, trying to decide where the two of you would sleep. However, cuddling always seemed to dictate your spot on the bed, so neither the left nor the right side felt correct to lay on after all those months. You sprawled yourself out in the middle laying on your side, pushing a few pillows next to your back and taking Nanami’s to your face, and coupled with the shirt, it smelled just like him. 

Just as you were about to fall asleep, the phone finally rang, and you hurriedly picked it up. “Hello? Kento?” you asked, waiting to hear his voice. “Y/n, I’m sorry I couldn’t call earlier,” he spoke, you could hear his heavy breaths through the speaker. “We were with the clients all day, I don’t think I’ll be doing this again  if I can avoid it,” he voice was scratchy and tired. “I missed you, Kento,” you tried to speak quietly yourself, focusing on the sound coming from him. “I miss you too, my love,” he smiled hearing your words, even if he couldn’t see your face. “They had us turn in our phones, for confidentiality reasons,” he explained. “Makes sense, you’ll be back tomorrow?” you turned to lay on your back, holding the phone to your ear. “Yes, probably around 10:30,” he let out a long sigh. “I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you smiled, knowing your husband and you were tired. “I’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, how about that?” he asked as you put the phone on speaker mode and set it on the nightstand.

He started talking about his plane trip, and the struggle the group had when trying to find the hotel, they barely made it to the first meeting with the business representatives. By the third time he asked if you were still awake, you were sound asleep, he could hear your soft breathing through the phone. “Goodnight, my love, I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered, before hanging up. Smiling to himself in the hotel room, he finished packing up his things for the early flight out, including the picture of the two of you he brought with and sat on his desk. 

When he finally got home, it was Saturday. Your gift was already wrapped and set on the table in the living room, and the house was already clean from the day before. Of course with the combination of your tiredness, and being used to sleeping in late on the weekends, it  almost lead to your absence at the door when Nanami walked in.

You ran to the door, Nanami walking in promptly at 10:30, and assisted him with his bags as if nothing was unusual. His smile remained as he eyed you, having not seen his cute little housewife in three whole days. More specifically, though, was the way you stood there, wearing his shirt. It was long enough to be a short dress for you, loosely covering your body as you greeted him with a soft smile and quick apology. “I’m so glad you’re back, Kento,” you helped him with his things as he hung up his coat. Nanami smirked, moving his hand to your cheek as he leaned down. “What a perfect surprise, my love,” he motioned to your outfit. Your face flushed bright red as you avoided his eyes, about to speak, though that was shortly cut off with a kiss. “I’m sorry, I slept in on accident,” you started, “your gift is on the table, I’ll go change,” he stopped you from moving. 

“I quite like it, actually,” his hand moved down to intertwine with yours. “I’ve never seen you wear my shirts before,” he opened the box on the table, moving the paper from on top of the jacket. 

“It’s not perfect, but I tried to make it to your measurements,” you muttered shyly, as he held it in his hands. “To think you’ve been working on this all this time,” he put the jacket on over his usual button up. “It fits quite well,” you always loved how your husband looked in a suit, and it was no different wearing this. “Should I take it to the tailors?” you asked, as he stared at the embroidery on the inside of the jacket. “I think it’s perfect, thank you, my love,” he pulled you against his chest. 

“I’m glad you like it,” you smiled. “I seem to have a new favorite garment, it came just in time,” he remarked, loosening his tie and folding the jacket back up. “Since I have that time off, we should go somewhere and show this off,” Nanami grabbed your hand, starting to walk towards the bedroom. “Though, right now, I’d just like to spend time with you, my love.” 

“I’m curious, why the change in outfit?” he asked once you entered the room. “Because… I missed you,” you mumbled, “and it smells good, like you.” Nanami gave you a smirk, picking up his pillow from where it laid in the middle of the bed. “And my pillow too, hmm?” you covered your face with your hand, embarrassed. “Well if you like my scent so much, I can certainly do something about that,” he chuckled, pulling you into a hug.

[write-here-n-now]

What to do when you've crossed a line?

C.(S). Jeonghan x Reader | WC. 821 | G. Angst| Pt. 1/? |

Part 2 | Part 3

You were used to your best friend’s antics. His “cheating”, the pranks and general everyday shenanigans but also the kind-hearted soul and caring nature he hid behind every antic. You didn’t know where along the way your feelings matured into a storm of butterflies whenever he came in sight. You could kid yourself into thinking that everyone cared that much about their friends, best friends even, and the feelings would pass. How many months does an average crush last? At least 37 months, right? You were simply guessing and definitely not keeping track of how many times he caused you to stay awake thinking of a fantasy future. 

Having feelings for your best friend was one thing, holding yourself back from giving the side eye to every person who flirted with him was another feat. How often had these moments been replayed, hot person flirts with Jeonghan, he entertains them, and you remain in the corner, out of sight, silently seething but ultimately unable to do anything. 

If he asked you to fly him to the moon, you would do so without question. Hide a dead body? All you needed to do was grab a shovel, but be a bridge to him and whoever he wanted to go home with that night. You could take a rain check. 

You got out of it often given how many of your mutual friends were present at the events and parties you all attended but it seemed that your luck ran out. Tonight, most of your friends either ditched the party early or had skipped out completely, leaving you to find a plausible excuse as to why you, in love with your best friend, could not talk him up to someone so said best friend could go home with them whilst you were left behind wondering what it would be like if you two went home together instead.

You became standoffish, faked fatigued, and pretended to be tipsy but he saw through your antics, confused with your behaviour until he resorted to tugging your arm repeatedly, pestering you to go over and rizz him up to some good-looking person who had been eyeing him all night.

Why did he need a wing person anyway? It's not like he had any trouble talking to people given his charm, mischievous aura and drop-dead gorgeous looks, he attracted people left and right, like a thirst-ridden nomad to an oasis. 

His persistence, on a normal day, would have eventually broken you down until you might have just walked up to whoever he needed you to, but something snapped inside you the longer you stared, wondering if you would be at the end of his affection. His eagerness shattered your short-lived fantasy but also wrecked your mood, unable to withstand being in that space, you pulled your arm out of his grasp and stormed out of the party. 

You didn’t stop to look back, walking out of the party room, out the building and towards your apartment, a mere five-minute walk. The chilly autumn weather would have caused you to mentally nitpick to have worn something thicker but your anger fuelled the passion to speed walk to the only safe space you could think of. 

Jeonghan had come after you, yet his hollers of your name fell on deaf ears as you were determined to block out all the external noise and finish your trek back home.

Catching up to you, he grabbed your upper arm, both fumbling you in your step and spinning you around right into his chest. 

“Y/N what the hell is the problem?” 

You avoid his eyes, cross your arms and look anywhere except directly at him.

“Are you going to stand there pouting or tell me what's wrong? Why did you storm out?” He waits for an answer, a fruitless endeavour against your current ego.

The sigh that leaves his mouth signals his own frustration at your lack of cooperation. He begins again hoping you answer at least one of his questions.

“Was it the tugging? I’m sorry if it bothered you too much…” Silence... “Are you drunk? Are you feeling sick?” 

His questions increased, asking you about the day, the party and even whether you liked the vibe of who he was trying to go home with to understand what the issue was, and that got on your last nerve

“I’M IN LOVE YOU DAMN IT!”

It's like a weight on your heart had been lifted but his expression only brought on a much heavier boulder on your heart and a knot in your throat. If you stayed here any longer you would begin crying and that was the last damn thing you needed tonight.

“Forget it, you don’t even care…”

You shake off his grip for the second time that night and storm off to your apartment with more urgency than before because now you’ve officially crossed the line in your friendship.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Reader x Donna

Reader found a dog outside the manor. She bought it back home. Donna found it adorable. They raise the dog as their own.

It's a German Shepherd. Reader train it to protect them especially Donna

Fluff

Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!! Sorry if is not as good as you want, but I've a cold rn :(!! Anyway, I hope you like it and sorry about the delay and the language mistakes!!! :)))

Dogs and family

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word count: 3,394

Summary: One night, a four legs companion is going to join your little family...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Close, close the door,” you said, with an agitated voice after running back to the old estate.

In that remote part of Romania the weather was horrible, cold, and dark, but it was no stranger to have occasional and terrible storms like the one that day. The wind picked up mercilessly on your way back and when the lady in black obeyed your request and closed the doors, you were able to sigh in relief, holding those paper bags as an undisputed triumph.

“Gods, (Y/N), I told you not to go out,” the lady in black, Donna Beneviento, protested. She was previously one of the village's Lords, currently your girlfriend, your romance, the love of your life.

Your daring and bravery had granted you the reward that long ago you believed was just a fantasy, just the dream of finding true love, the right person to care for, and who would care for you. Although it was true that one of the almost divine Lords of the place was not in your thoughts, from the moment you had her close enough, you understood that perhaps she was the one.

She was a dangerous woman, feared by everyone, loved by no one until you arrived. If Mother Miranda herself could see what happened after those meetings, it probably wouldn't have taken you too long to become a horrible Lycan.

But, apparently, and according to the less shy side of Donna, known for being her inseparable puppet, Angie, it never posed any problem with the rest of the rulers, nor with Mother Miranda herself.

Nobody gave you anything. You had to make every effort to know, to know how to enter that disturbed and sick mind. Love was the answer. Only the love you swore you felt managed to uncover that veil from her face and see for yourself how right your heart was.

“It doesn't matter, you know I can do anything,” you said, holding your breath and enduring the strong attacks of the wind on the door, which threatened to open. Your fake smile was not a secret to her, who, distrustful, came to help you with the shopping.

“You could have been blown away by the wind and...” The lady in black murmured, holding your hand tightly, betraying her own nervousness. You laughed tenderly, brushing off her always exaggerated concerns.

“Donna, it's okay, I'm here and most importantly...” You whispered, amused, in her ear, making her expression change from concern to curiosity. Well, they were quite similar. “…I have those tomatoes you wanted...”

“A few tomatoes are not enough to risk your life, tesoro,” the doll maker commented, looking at you as if she believed it was the last time she would see you.

Soon your smile spread to her face and, with Angie too busy with the shopping bags, you had the perfect occasion for one of those moments of perfect love, for one of those slow, long, wet kisses, which reaffirmed neither of you made the wrong decision.

For once, it wasn't that sinister porcelain puppet that interrupted a safe path to the bedroom, or any other place where you could give free rein to your passion. What sounded was much more terrible than a thunder, much more terrifying than the wind blowing through the mountains. It seemed as if one of the few trees on the old estate had collapsed, taking with it the glass from one of the windows.

“Mother Miranda!” You shouted, approaching startled, being stopped abruptly by the hand of the woman in black.

“Don't come close, per favore, it could be dangerous,” she told you, pulling you strongly, so hard that it even hurt you.

Fortunately, you were used to those reactions. Her mental problems didn't come out often, but when they do, they seemed uncontrollable. Instead of rolling your eyes and grumbling, you relaxed your expression, turning around and placing your hands on her shoulders to help her breathe calmly and relaxed.

“Donna, my love, we have a damn tree going through the window, something is has to be done,” you said amused, struggling with the fingers that pressed tightly against your skin.

“The gardener will take care of it,” she murmured, making Angie stop rummaging through the bags and run towards you.

“What gardener, silly Donna?” The puppet asked, with her hands placed comically on either side of her hips. “The one you made fall into the void?”

That sentence made something inside the lady in black explode, running away from the room, presumably to regret her past actions crying in some corner.

“Angie...” You sighed, knowing that in those moments, Donna would want to be alone, and they wouldn't last long.

“What?” the doll asked, as if you had said something strange.

“Aren't you supposed to be her only company?” You asked in a scolding tone, to which she turned her back on you in a comical manner, showing that obvious jealousy she had towards you.

“So?” She responded mockingly. “I think I’m not anymore, what are you doing here, you Donna stealer?”

“Oh, come on,” you sighed, tired of that irritating doll's attitude. “Anyway, I'll take a look...”

You couldn't do anything to remove that annoying tree from the window. Much to your regret, you would have to call some other Lord to help you, but it couldn't be that same day, it was too late. At that moment your real priority, as always, was Donna, just Donna.

Once the Lord was able to calm down, thanks to the hot bath you prepared for her, it was time for dinner.

“It's delicious, my love,” you said with a tender voice, enjoying the delicious food that the lady in black prepared for you every day. She raised her head and smiled gratefully with a blush on her cheeks.

“Thank you (Y/N), I have to admit that if you hadn't brought these tomatoes...” She whispered, looking askance at the tree that crossed the window.

You leaned back, resting your hands behind your head and raising your eyebrows, satisfied.

“See? I saved your dinner,” you joked, looking at the fork disinterestedly.

“Life, you have saved my life, (Y/N),” Donna commented in a sad voice, thanking you for existing, for having appeared in her life to change it completely. You smiled even wider, shaking your head.

It could be another of the hundreds of tender and romantic moments but the unpleasant noise of that tree hitting the walls served as a merciless cut to your emotional connection, making both of you turn your heads.

“Okay, what are we going to do with that?” You asked, pointing to the broken window with a cutlery. Donna shrugged for a few seconds, pouring you another glass of wine.

“I don't know...” Donna sighed, shaking his head.

“Hey, the gardener's cabin...” You mumbled, not wanting to bring up that unmentionable topic directly, something not very wise since the cutlery was colliding due to the trembling of her hands.

“What's wrong with that cabin?” She asked abruptly, frowning and changing the love that her face conveyed for a totally irrational hate.

“Nothing, just maybe there is some tool there so we can cut down that tree,” you commented after an awkward silence. Donna sighed and shook her head.

“I doubt there is anything useful in that place, (Y/N),” the lady in black whispered, as if the simple comment had offended her. You rolled your eyes. Okay, no gardeners. “I'll call my brother to help us.”

“Oh, yeah, great, the metal psychopath...” You whispered, getting up from the table. “It's okay, Donna. Anyway, I'm going to go out and take a look outside, in case anything else has happened.”

The lady in black, realizing she had become nervous again for no reason, sighed, nodding and standing with you, gently holding you by the waist.

“Hey, tesoro... Forgive me, okay?” She whispered in your ear, making a shiver run through your body and your mouth forming a smile before you turned around and kissed her tenderly.

“Donna, I have nothing to forgive you for,” you said back, whispering into her lips and giving her one last tender and understanding kiss. “Everything is fine, okay? I didn't mean to remember your past.”

“I know... I'm sorry, I'm really...” She stammered, being interrupted by one of your quick kisses, by your relaxing caresses, the only way for her to stop apologizing for her problems, ones that weren't her fault.

“Hey, okay my love,” you whispered, resting your forehead on hers. “You should calm down, okay? I'm going to take a quick look and get back to you right away.”

“Wait, I… I'm going with you,” Donna said, following you towards the exit. You rolled your eyes but nodded. Well, after all, that was her house.

With two flashlights in hand, you both left the house. The storm had stopped, but the cold cut like blades into your skin.

“Okay... that's the problem,” you said, shining light on that tree that had no other place to land than the window.

“Your detective skills are admirable, (Y/N),” Donna joked, making you turn around with a frown.

“Oh, now it's the funny Donna time?” You asked ironically breathing calmly because the doll maker's nerves had completely dissipated.

Your soft laughter eclipsed for a moment the sinister sound of the night, but something, a different noise that didn’t fit with that curious soundtrack, made your smile fade.

“Wait, did you hear that?” You said, shining the flashlight around. Donna shook her head, pointing her flashlight at the same spot.

They were moans, pitiful moans that made the atmosphere much more sinister. It wasn't a Lycan, it wasn't some creature that was part of "Miranda's army." It sounded mundane.

“Maybe it’s a bird?” the lady in black asked, always following you closely while you diligently searched for the source of the sound. You shook your head, illuminating what looked like a broken tree ahead of the fences that delimited the mansion.

“I don't think so, no bird would make a noise like that,” you murmured, searching through the branches and finally finding the injured animal. “Oh, Gods… Donna!”

“What happen?” The lady in black said immediately, looking towards the same place. “(Y/N)…”

Under a branch, wailing in pain, there was an injured dog, probably due to the fall of that branch. It was a big dog, a German shepherd, with its paw down on that heavy branch. It seemed badly hurt, but not enough to give him up.

“We have to do something, let's help it,” you commented, walking among the fallen tree, looking for the best way to get the animal out of its improvised cage. “Stay with it, Donna, I'll see if I can get this branch out.”

The woman in black nodded, crouching down to observe the animal while you searched the branches for the cause of its pain.

When you moved one of the branches, the dog barked loudly, scaring Donna and causing her to back away in fear.

“Donna! I have already found the problem, keep it calm while I lift the branch,” you said, watching the woman at all times, who was trembling with fear.

"No, I can't, (Y/N), I, I'm afraid that it might do something to me..." Donna murmured, moving further and further away. You sighed and ran a hand over your forehead, just as an idea crossed your head.

 “Try to use your powers to see if you can relax it,” you said, giving up on your attempt to lift the branch, since the animal was suffering a lot.

Donna obeyed, extending her hands towards the animal, which immediately stopped complaining.

“Great, great...” You sighed. “Try to get it out now. Come on, one two… And three.”

With a superhuman effort, the animal managed to get out, almost unconscious due to the skill of the Lord.

The two of you brought the injured dog into the house, ready to treat it.

“What is that thing?” Angie asked, seeing you arrive with the dog in your arms.

You rolled your eyes again, not paying attention to the doll, who of course, didn’t seem happy with this new guest.

“Leave it on the table. I'll go get the first aid kit,” Donna said, once in the basement, in the small laboratory where the lady in black used to work on better ways to serve Mother  Miranda.

You nodded as you petted the animal, which was breathing easier thanks to Donna's skill.

“Hey, come on, you're a good boy, right? And very brave...” You whispered very close to it, reassuring it when the woman in black approached with an injection. “What's that?”

“A tranquilizer,” she commented, approaching cautiously.

“Hey, be careful, it's a dog, not an intruder,” you joked, stroking the animal's fur, trying to joke, as almost always, without success.

“You were an intruder,” Donna said, resentful of those words. “And I didn't do anything to you.”

“Oh, I think you did,” you said, when the needle stuck in the dog, who complained weakly. Donna looked at you with a bit of hate. “You drove me crazy.”

Disinfecting the wound, bandaging it, checking that the dog had no other problems, was a hard work, requiring a lot of time and concentration. With the animal asleep and relaxed, it was time to ask the big question, the one that could have multiple answers, but only one was valid for you.

“What are we going to do?” You asked sighing, checking the condition of the dog while Donna washed her hands. Obviously Donna wasn't stupid, she could already guess what you meant by that.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, leaning next to you on the table and looking at the animal. “You are not thinking…”

“No, I…” You responded abruptly. “I mean, it doesn't have a collar and… Well…”

“(Y/N) I... No, I'm not ready to...” Donna murmured, avoiding your pleading look, the look that said you had found a new family member by chance.

“I didn't say that we have to...” You said, avoiding getting nervous about the silent proposal that Donna caught on the fly. “Well, I haven't said it but I don't think it's a bad idea.”

“No, (Y/N), having an animal is a big responsibility and we don't...” The woman in black explained, bringing her insecurities to light.

“Aren't we responsible?” You asked, starting to feel more and more like taking care of that animal. “Come on Donna, just think about it.”

“I have nothing to think about, the dog will stay until it is cured but then...” Donna said with a more serious, severe tone, very similar to the one she used when you were just a poor lost villager, accidentally entering her grounds.

“What then? Are you going to abandon it?” You asked, with an annoying, offensive tone, wanting to appeal to her feelings, to her pleas for you not to leave, to the continuous allusion she made to her terrible loneliness.

“No, I didn't say that, I...” She defended herself, predicting an imminent argument, something that you tried to avoid whenever possible. “Io…Non…”

“Donna, listen to me,” you said, hastily stopping those nervous words, that lack of control of language that warned Donna's problems were once again an obstacle to your relationship. “Don't be nervous, my love... I'm just saying that maybe it's not so bad to have a dog, don't you think?”

“I had a dog when I was a little girl,” the lady in black explained, coordinating her breathing with yours to relax and not break out into a terrible nervous breakdown.

“Okay,” you said in a tone more like a whisper, letting your love express the reason for her refusal.

“My... My father... He cut its...” She stammered, thus making her nervousness worse.

“Okay, enough, Donna, that's the past. I'm very sorry about your dog but...” You said, putting your hands on her shoulders. “None of that is going to happen now, none of that, do you hear me?”

“How can you be so sure? You know that I have problems. You know that I have attacks and I don't know if I could... If I could...”

“Shhh, it's okay, my love...” You said, shutting her up with a kiss, leaving aside the horrible ghosts of her past. “I have told you a thousand times and I will tell you a thousand more if necessary: ​​you are not your family, you are not your past, Donna. You are my love, my beautiful Donna. You're good, I know you are.”

“You say that because you want to make me feel better,” Donna protested, while you wiped away a tear that was sliding down her cheek. You, instead of sinking, smiled.

“I'm here, right? You didn't hurt me. I know you don't want to hurt anyone, no matter what Miranda says. You're not like them, not to me, not to this poor little dog, and you know it, right?”

Donna didn't respond, just nodded slowly as she squeezed your hands tightly, looking over your shoulder at the unconscious animal.

“Look, let's do something,” you said with a firmer tone. “Let's let the dog heal and then... Well, we'll see what we do, okay?”

“It's… It's okay…”

Days passed and the animal improved a lot. It was not aggressive, it didn’t growl, it didn’t bark, rather it was grateful, making every effort it could to walk normally. You took care of it, just like you promised Donna. You fed him, gave him water, took him for short walks... Basically, it was like it was just your dog.

But one day, when it didn't seem to want to play ball with you, something changed.

“Donna,” you said, drawing the attention of the woman in black, who was reading calmly in her armchair. She looked at you and then at the dog, who was waiting patiently sitting with a small ball at its side, staring at the lady in black. “I think it wants to play with you.”

“With me?” She asked, reluctant to spend time with the animal. You laughed, bending down to pick up the ball and hand it to Donna roughly.

“What do you think? Come on, throw the ball to Rocky,” you said amused, with a bark of approval from the animal.

“Rocky? Since when does it has a name?” She asked, taking the ball with a grimace of disgust probably due to the animal's drool.

“I put it on, since I'm the only one who takes care of it,” you said proudly. Donna snorted in annoyance, but she made to throw the ball, after which the animal became excited, standing up and wagging its tail anxiously.

With the force of a summer breeze, Donna threw the ball, which ended up very close, but that was not enough reason for Rocky to not running for it, returning it effusively, jumping on the sofa and covering Donna with licks while Donna fought unsuccessfully.

“(Y/N), help me,” the lady in black protested, fighting against the animal's affection. You laughed and shook your head.

“Why? He's giving you some love,” you scoffed, watching in surprise as Rocky seemed to have an unexpected favorite human. “Come on, Rocky, down.”

The animal came down the moment it heard your voice, leaving poor Donna alone, who couldn't help but smile while she wiped away the excess of “love” the dog had left on her face.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she said, catching her breath and looking at the animal, which began to play with the ball on its own.

“It seems like he's fond of you,” you murmured, sitting next to her so you could tease her closer. “I don't know why, honestly.”

“Me neither,” she said, amused, letting you kiss her quickly, thus showing your silent triumph. “Hey, maybe we could…”

“Yeah?” You said hastily, hoping to hear what you had already sensed for a long time.

“Maybe it's not such a bad idea to have a dog, right?” She asked in a low voice, her pride taking over every word. You raised your eyebrows, feigning indifference. “Maybe, maybe it could even... Well, protect us.”

“Protect us?” You asked, now, surprised by that curious answer.

“Well I... I was thinking about what you told me the other day and... You're right, (Y/N), I don't want to hurt anyone else,” Donna explained, with that voice that encouraged you to lean down a little and take her trembling hand.

“I know, my love, I know you don't want to hurt anyone else,” you said, holding her chin so she could look into your eyes.

“That's why I think that if... Well, if we could teach Rocky to protect the estate, maybe there's no need for me...” Donna continued, frowning thoughtfully as she followed the dog with her gaze.

“Look, that's a great idea, Donna,” you said, nodding. “Besides, I've already taught him to sit. Rocky, come here!”

“Let me go, you kind of dinosaur!” A shrill scream that made you grimace unpleasantly filled the peaceful room.

You had to try hard not to laugh out loud. The dog, with a relaxed, proud walk, carried the Angie doll in his jaws. The puppet protested, trying to hit the animal, but she had nothing to do. At that moment you really doubted whether to help the doll or let her suffer a bit more.

“Angie!” Donna shouted, standing up abruptly, but stopped by a hand on her chest.

“Help! Help!” The doll squealed, kicking as best she could while you walked towards Rocky, covering your mouth with your hand so as not to reveal the fun that this situation gave you.

“Come on, Rocky, let her go,” you said with a tone a little less severe than you should have, on purpose, of course.

The dog didn’t obey, holding the puppet in his mouth, as if he could read your thoughts.

“Rocky, let her go,” Donna said, with a firm, direct voice, which miraculously made the dog obey instantly, making you frown.

“I can't believe it,” you said, shaking your head. “Rocky, sit down.”

The dog barked, but didn’t obey, approaching Donna, looking at her respectfully, wanting her words to be the ones that ordered him to do something.

“Sit down,” Donna said, hugging a scared Angie.

As expected, the animal obeyed, making you growl in rage.

And so, knowing that for some reason, the lady in black became Rocký's only favorite, time passed. Donna quickly adapted to this strange devotion to her. A devotion that made you somewhat envious at first since, given the reluctance of the woman in black to add a member to your family, she now didn’t seem to want to separate herself from him.

During meals, Rocky was there, on walks in the forest, the dog had fun hunting and playing ball with Donna tirelessly. At bedtime, instead of the small porcelain barrier that separated your bodies so you wouldn't hug each other, there was now a furry ball that prevented you from getting close to the brunette.

His protective role was significant. Any person or animal that dared to approach the estate provoked the animal's aggressive growls. No one in their right mind would ever dare bother you.

There was already love in that house, so much love that it was unbearable, but with Rocky's new addiction to your little family, love counted for three. An inseparable companion for that strange family, a reminder that told Donna she was not her past, she was capable of loving and being loved, not only by you, but by nature itself.

[mariscandyheart]

tips not to bing3! from someone who is 60 days (2 months) free of bing3ing

disclaimer: these tips worked for me and helped me to stop bing3ing they may or may not help you, also not promoting anything! (might have to make another post lol)

so first off I only started bing3ing (that I was aware of when I started restricting) I have recently realized that I was far into bin3ing wayy before restricting came into play

I would literally sneak food into my room at night (my room is in the basement) and I would heat up ramen noodles in the microwave and eat that at like 11pm, not only that but during the day I would sneak food that my mom said to get rid downstairs to hide it to bing3 on later that night.

it was super overwhelming and gross I didn't realize it then but I was miserable because I ate so much and it's not like I was hungry I was bored.

I'm not sure when exactly my bing3ing started when I wasn't super aware of it or why, I think it was just me loathing in self pity, and how I was so sad with my body and looks.

but when I did start restricting its like I wasn't taking myself seriously so I would start a fast end it like a hour later than bing3. I was also jumping to far into to restricting too soon.

Another trigger would be when I would weigh myself and weather I would lose or gain I would bing3. I feel like this is because if I would lose I would feel the need to reward myself or if I would gain I would want to give up.

ANYWAYS

here's what I did to stop bing3ing (finally sorry for yapping)

first thing first identity the triggers what triggers you to bing3?

after you do that try and overcome those things when you feel like your going to binge, for example I started thinking do I really this food? the answer was no.

am I bored or actually hungry?

you'll want to get to the deep root cause of your bing3ing, looking at th!nspo and drinking a gallon of water is not going to help.

so if your like me and bing3ed when you weigh yourself, try cutting down weigh ins to like every other day or maybe 1-2 a week. I know it can be hard but try to not get too discouraged or too excited when weighing.

if you feel discouraged think about how far you have came to be where you are, and if your just starting it will take time. giving up in yourself will not help anything it will only so damage.

if you lost that's fantastic! and of course you deserve a reward but let's make sure it's not food (and if it is think about portion control and be cautious of what you choose) here are some other things to reward yourself with other than food!

- new outfit

- a gift card to your fav store or online game/shopping

- new stainonary (if that's what you like)

- new book

- new makeup/skincare

- anything you like really (clothes, nail polish, shoes, hair stuff, a game or CD you like)

anyways this post is lowkey long so I'll make another soon! take care and stay safe ˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

AGAIN TAKE WITH A GRAIN OF SALT DO WHAT'S BEST FOR YOU!! ♡

[msbyzsz]

heather weather

"i can't believe this is actually happening...i was not expecting this to happen to me," you say sitting outside in the rain. you just caught your boyfriend cheating on you. You came to one of his games without him knowing, just to surprise him after the game. just to see another girl run up to him and kiss him at the end. so you left.

waiting outside in the rain to collect your thoughts, you had no ride, it was pouring rain, and you just caught your boyfriend cheating on you. just your luck. so you decide to sit on a bench while crying your eyes out.

"hey, are you okay?'

you jolt your head up, looking up at the person who just spoke to you. "oh yeah, im fine." you reply back to the stranger. "you sure? cause it doesn't look like you are," he says. "yeah im actually fine, i just have allergies." "its december?"

later that night you ended up safe at home, luckily to your knight and shining armor who rescued you. you guys ended up exchanging numbers, been out on a few dates then, have been together ever since. but...something just isn't sitting quite right with you. you've been getting this gut feeling but have been putting it off, cause you don't want to stir up anything between you two.

then all of a sudden everything starts crashing down on you...

i still remember, third of december

me in your sweater

you see him standing outside leaning on a tree, expecting he was waiting for you. so you start to walk towards him, until you see a girl go up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and giving him a kiss on the cheek. you then look down at what she's wearing, and it just so happens to be the same sweater he gave you. on the third of december..

you said it looked better on me than it did you

only if you knew

how much i liked you

you vividly remember when you to when out for a walk together, just talking to each other. then you felt a breeze, and you wrapped your arms around yourself to try and keep from the cold. you didn't even know why you wore what you did, you knew you should've brought your jacket or something. and before you can even think you are wrapped up in a sweater...his sweater to be exact. so you start to take it off, "i'm fine, i don't need this." he pulls your arms through the sweater so your actually wearing it. "i think you need it more than i do, plus it looks better on you."

that's when you knew, how much you liked him...

but i watch your eyes as she walks by

what a sight for sore eyes

brighter than a blue sky

now every time you looked at him all you could think about was the way he looked at her, he never looked at you like that. but you can't blame him, she is pretty. she is the beauty standard, blonde hair, blue eyes, short, nice body, what more could a guy really want. but you, you weren't even close, with your dark hair, dark eyes, tall, decently pretty, and the only thing that you could one up her on, was your academics, but no one cares about those right?

she's got you mesmerized

while i die

you knew she has him wrapped around her finger, you would practically see them everywhere together, him looking at her like a lost puppy. and you couldn't help to think that, you two were never like that. what was really so different from her that he likes so much. it was living hell, you were practically dying at this point.

why would you ever kiss me

im not even half as pretty

`you remember the first time you guys kissed. it was special, it was snowing, and you guys were under a light. it was purely out of a movie, that kiss. but now when you see them kiss, you really wonder if it meant anything to him, why would he ever bother kissing you, it's not like he wouldn't think you are better anyway, he would say that you aren't even half as pretty as her.

you gave her your sweater

its just polyester

but you still can't believe he gave her that sweater. the same fucking one he gave to you. so it clearly didn't mean anything to him, it never mattered. you can't believe how much a piece of fabric, a piece of fucking polyester makes you so emotional, but you can't help it. he gave her, his sweater..

but you like her better

you didn't even know where to go, or what to do after this, but you knew for certain that you couldn't deal with this, he will always like her better, no matter who it is they will always like her better. you've always said third time the charm but at this point, what's the use. they are always going to end up thinking they found someone better anyway, and then you're stuck in the dump again.

"wish i were heather..."

or... what if you could be even better...?

DENKI KAMINARI, bakugou katsuki, keigo tamaki, DABI, AOMINE DAIKI, murasakibara atsushi, eren yeager, ZEKE YEAGER, tsukishima kei, bokuto koutarou, OIKAWA TOORU, sasuke uchiha

[chaotic-mystery]

WHERE YOU LEFT ME

Pairing: Frankie Morales x reader

Summary: You meet Frankie for a date and reminisce about your relationship.

Content Warnings: MAJOR character death. No movie AU but fuck Tom. This is overall angst heavy and please take care of yourself. Grief & loss, sadness, memories, I think that’s it? It’s just overall a bittersweet and tragically lovesick story. There’s no physical descriptions of reader other than wearing a black dress at one point and having hair that tickles Frankie’s nose. no y/n used

Authors Note: hello my babies I am finally dropping this. It’s been an idea I had for months and I almost scrapped it but then I thought, no! Post it anyway! So here we go. It’s heavily inspired by Tim McGraw by Taylor Swift but it’s not required to listen to it to read the story. (Although if you’re like me and love a good cry, i recommend listening) I’ll meet you at the end of this with tissues and candy, okay? 🩵 thank you @pr0ximamidnight for beta reading this for me and I’m sorry for making you sob. || wc: 1.3k|| beautiful divider by @/saradika-graphics 🩵

“Hi honey, I missed you. Hope you aren’t too mad I’m runnin’ late.”

You smile and sit next to Frankie on the ground right on top of the red picnic blanket, food spread out from corner to corner. The assortment of favorite sweets and dishes makes you smile harder, getting comfortable right next to him.

“Finally went out shopping today for the first time in a while. I hadn’t seen my friends in so long, I’m surprised they answered when I offered to go out. We took the backroads home and it reminded me of when your truck used to get stuck back in high school, those long ass nights we should’ve been home studying but you wanted to go for a drive. You’d take us out to the lake and dance with me. Remember that? It was fun before my dad caught us and chased us back to the truck.”

You giggle and rest against him, blinking a few times as a breeze of cold and crisp October air rushes by you. Licking your lips, you continue.

“I found a note from years ago when I was looking for those one pair of shoes you know I hate wearing, the ones I have to wear when-”

You cut yourself off, not wanting to bring up that day. Not yet.

Pulling the folded piece of lined paper out of your coat pocket, you sniffle from the chilly weather and begin to read aloud the note. “This was from the day you were shipping out for basic and god was I pissed at you. We woke up and realized summer was gone, we were adults.”

“Frankie, when you read this you’ll probably be on the way to Texas, and I’ll be in Georgia, right where you left me. I told your mama I’d write to you every chance I got, and I mean that. That also means when I’m mad at you for leaving. I hope when you’re lying awake in your cot at night, you look up and our song starts to play, that one Tim McGraw song. You remember what I was wearing, the perfume embedded in my skin, the way my hair tickled your nose when you’d hug me.

By no means is this a goodbye letter. I’m in it forever with you, Frankie. I want you to come back home safely so we can start the family we’ve always wanted. Why did you have to leave me? Why was this the best solution for us? We were making it, we were fine. We were good. I was happy with our little apartment and my shitty 9-5 job while you worked on cars. Promise me you’ll come home safe. I need you here with me.

I love you endlessly, you have no idea. You make it hard to be mad when I remember how you’d tell me my eyes put the stars to shame every time I looked at you. That’s still a lie to this day. I’m already counting down the days until you’re back with me and I thought it would somehow make it easier but it doesn’t. I’ll be waiting right here for you, wearing that little black dress you love so much.

We’ll start our family and get that house on the outskirts of town like you told me we would. I already have dog names picked out for the dog we’re gonna adopt too.

P.s. the ring doesn’t have to be too expensive.

Love you always.”

Taking a deep breath in, you wipe your tears on your corduroy brown pants, looking around at all the people walking by in the distance. Grabbing a green grape from the plate next to your leg, you chew it up and rest back against your hands, the soft blanket shielding you from the cold ground.

“I got a new job a few months ago, I forgot to tell you. I'm in HR now which is fun. I get to listen to people complain about who ate whose lunch, hire more clowns who hope to climb the social ladder, that kind of thing. It has its good and bad days. Honestly though, it makes me forget about all the shit I have going on in my head. I get to focus on everyone else but myself for a day. I know, I know, an office job?”

You sit up straight and cross your legs before continuing.

“I needed something to pay the bills and I couldn’t stay a waitress forever. The tips were good but I couldn’t afford our apartment on that alone. Robert still calls me from time to time asking if I want a Friday night shift. I didn’t think he’d remember how I used to love those. You’d come in after being with Santi and Ben all day and want beers while you stayed until we closed, always wanting to be near me with what little time we did have. Just seeing you sitting on that barstool watching college football, eating those disgusting cheese sticks was enough to make me keep going for the night.”

And it was.

Frankie being there when he was off duty meant a lot to you.

You kneel down in front of him and you can feel the tears pricking your eyes once more as your scarf blows to the right a little.

“I left a note on your mama’s porch the other day. I know she doesn’t live there anymore but I just, it was the first time I’d gone back to your street since, ya know. By now I’m sure you know what I wrote in it, but just in case you don't. I hope you still think about me when you think Tim McGraw. It’ll bring you back to that place of us out there by the lake with my head on your chest, dancing all night like two lovesick teenagers. I hope it makes you happy, Frankie. I hope you know it means everything to me, still. After all these years.”

You finally crack and break down, leaning your forehead on the picnic blanket, the tears soaking into the fabric immediately. Muffled and choked out sobs leap from your lips and you clutch your throat, trying to calm yourself down enough to breathe.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you, Frankie. You left me here with n-nothing.” You fiddle with your fingers and rub the spot on your ring finger where a ring should be sitting. Yet only a faint line from the ring Frankie won you out of a quarter machine was left. It didn’t feel right wearing it without him so you gave it back on that terrible day in September when the entire month seemed flooded out by tears. You tucked it right in his jacket pocket before you left.

That was the worst day of your life.

You sigh deeply and touch the cold granite headstone, the smallest picture of Frankie looking back at you.

“I love you so much. I’ll be back tomorrow to change your flowers. It’s my first winter without you here and I can’t stop thinking about how cold you must be, baby. I wish you were back in our apartment in my arms how you used to let me hold you.”

Laying down until your face was pressed against the ground, you sniffle again and whimper out as you think about him being cold.

“Frankie, I'm so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t get you out of that wooden box. I hope wherever you are in the universe, you’re safe and warm and can feel all the love I still have for you. There’s just too much left over and I’m not sure what to do with it, honey. What do I do with it? What do I do with all this love that was supposed to last us forever?”

You never did get the ring but you got an endless supply of memories from knowing him and loving him. Truly loving him.

You curl up into a little ball and hold yourself while you continue to cry, twiddling a leaf between your fingers. Eventually the whimpers turned into soft and broken hums of that one Tim McGraw song.

Hugs and kisses and tissues are complimentary 💚

[1-49]

hit by luck

pairing: f!reader × chanyoung, sungchan ⁝ tags: rain. tokyo. & love at first sight / fluff. gets lil angsty. wc. 3.1k

note: this has been in my drafts ever since those two pictures dropped, & basically, this whole thing is just an extension of what sorta of mood they inspired. ik it’s kind of late but i love the atmosphere, so im posting it anyway.

All this waiting ─── Holding out for the storm to pass. Stuck in traffic and waiting. Waiting for the bus at a crowded bus stop. 

Since the idiotic weather app on your phone was unable to foresee such a severe downpour, you are without an umbrella. You find yourself standing like a cat caught in the rain after spending a perfect sunny afternoon exploring Tokyo’s streets.

Neither the metro nor the two buses that have come & gone are going in your direction. More room and privacy for yourself as the majority of passengers board the buses and lessen the crowded, small, glassed station—for which you are grateful. After trying your luck twice, you are stuck waiting for the third bus. 

The peculiar scent of rain on asphalt fills your nostrils as you accept your bad luck & attempt to take solace in the rain, the foggy lights of the passing traffic & the bright neon signs that give the city its unique flavor. There are a variety of sounds in the street, ranging from soft and loud to melodic and even disorienting. 

You seem like such a loser out in the rain. The end effect of running so fast and not caring where you step is clumps of hair and muddy shoes, followed by ten minutes of waiting. You are glad you didn’t wear too much makeup for today’s walk because you’d have looked like a total wreck. Smugly, you try to adjust your mascara and eyeshadow in your little mirror and pretend it’s fine. 

And so, you concentrate on the raindrops as they land in a specific dip in the pavement, creating tiny air bubbles that rise to the surface like bubbles in a champagne glass. This little world seems to be what fascinates you about Tokyo at the moment, despite its vast size.

That is when the two giants casually stroll into the safe haven you have found in all the fast life.

The two towering frames jostle one another in this terrifying performance that the sky is putting on, laughing at something so ridiculous that you have to wonder how they can do it. The evening sky is practically ripping at its seams, but they do not seem to notice. 

Their laughter is contagious as they battle for space under a transparent umbrella that the taller one is holding. Their bodies are too broad for the protective gear, and they seem to lose simultaneously because most of their opposing shoulders and arms are soaked. For the tiny spaciousness they seek but don’t find, the pair comes across as endearing and humorous. You realize there is beauty in the fact that neither of them seems to mind. They remain upbeat and truly unaffected, which is inspiring.

That they are close friends is highly likely. They are even dressed alike. One is wearing green cargo pants and the other over-dye jeans, both with black upper apparel.

They could be mistaken for twins due to their dangerous synchronicity. Not like born together. Not fused like the two sides of an oyster encasing a precious pearl. However, exactly opposites, much like the two sides of a mirror. Equally stunning, and in their case, the pearl is their friendship. 

The sounds of the city fade, and you feel every nook and cranny in your body thudding as you witness them make the spontaneous decision to wait for a bus.

The ‘polar twins’ resemblance they give off is unfair. 

While the cargo boy’s carefree demeanor gives hours of silly photos and odd Tik Toks, funny videos, and Twitter drama, the headphones hanging around his neck pay close and serious attention to music, which you thoroughly appreciate. This particular aspect of him almost instantly makes you fall in love.

But the taller boy doesn’t fall behind either;

he closes the umbrella as soon as he enters the glassed area. His hand clasped around his brown cashmere cardigan radiates warmth and comfort, and his strikingly bare collarbones radiate needs and dreams. His contradictory aura clouds your judgment and prevents you from making further assumptions about his interests in basketball, games, and literature.

The tip of the umberlla accidentally bumps into your arm when he closes it, revealing his slight clumsiness. 

His regret is evident in his eyebrows even before he says, “Sorry.” His eyes widen with it. Lovely and compassionate, with a hint of mocha. Like there is freshly brewed coffee swirling around inside his crystals.

Sparks shimmer up your arms as you watch and listen to his apology and say that it’s nothing. 

The music boy’s position is to your left, as the ‘clumsy’ guy shifts to your right, which he does not realize until he apologizes.

With obvious happiness, the music boy inserts himself and begins to tease him. “He acts that way all the time, so don’t worry. If his good looks don’t work to get him noticed, he will try playing on his clumsiness.”

You can be sure that the ‘clumsy’ guy is pouting and sulking over the nonsense that was just said, even though your eyes are finally turning to the person who is seeking them.

There is an eternal smile on the face of the goofier of the two. One of those smiles that can break through the clouds and stop the rain. A ray of light, really. He breaks through the barriers of your heart with his quiet voice too. The fact that he can capture your heart with such ease and beauty is just a crime.

They may have looked the same in one frame, but now that they are essentially standing on either side of you, they are starting to show more of their charm. It gets harder to be between two extremely attractive giants as their individuality starts to emerge.

You have a sneaking suspicion that the boy you are looking at is the younger one.

And while the bright colors of the city match his mischievousness, his confidence has a short fuse. This becomes apparent when he stops coming up with new jokes for his friend and stays staring at you for longer than fifty seconds.

Before you know what the two of you are doing, his smile spreads across your face like sunlight does on tulips in the early spring. It’s an inadvertent eye lock until he realizes it’s too much. It really melts your heart to discover that he is a shyer one, and you end up melting right into the rain puddle that is at your feet.

You then take up your previous posture, facing forward. For a brief while, they distracted you from the fact that you were waiting for a bus to the hotel. As you take a big swallow, there is an odd quietness among the three of you. 

You cannot help but wish that some of them would speak up and say something. Why you want this to go on is beyond you, but you want it to. Their bodies radiate a warmth that suffocates you while simultaneously providing warmth against the chilly autumn breeze. This brings you back to the point where you’re mentally cursing your app for tricking you because you were totally unprepared for today’s outing.

‘Soft eyes’, as in literally, hands you the sweather he was holding as soon as he notices that you’re shivering.

It pains you to try to turn down his offer, but you do. 

Still, he refuses to accept it. “You can give it back as soon as one of our buses arrives. Keep it till then.” Ignoring your protests, he carefully places the soft wool in your hands. You have no choice but to comply with his insistence. “Besides, I don’t need it.”

You raise your gaze to him and once more meet his eyes—this time with a smile added.

You remember that when he bumped into you, he was trying to hide a smile so that he could apologize more sincerely, which means you haven’t been a witness to his smile just yet. 

However, his smile has the same profound effect on you as the guy on the other side. You are sure the sun is in his heart too, just as much as it’s in his eyes. His kindness is his beauty. Very soft; almost as soft as a ball of cashmere, or similar to his cardigan’s overly long sleeves as you play with them.

Given their earlier recklessness, you would never have trusted two random boys to be this kind. So gracious as to lay you two of their favorite accessories in your possession. 

One is keeping you warm, and the other, after being prodded to share the song he has been working on, is putting his headphones on you and letting his joy seep through your ears to your bones.

Feeling a little more shy, his breath hits your face, tense and warm as he’s inside. He is pulsing with understanding so as not to invade your personal space while practically failing. As if you couldn’t have done it yourself, he decides to put his headphones on you abruptly. A current is all that is moving him, and not a single conscious brain cell is applying any kind of brake.

The color hits his cheeks when your gaze meets halfway again. He’s being cheeky, though, when he asks, “Are you ready?” while towering over you.

He presses play on the song he composed after you nod with equal enthusiasm.

With the ‘soft guy’ on the right, you’re a little more confident, but when it comes to the ‘shy boy’ in front, you are a complete mess. The prospect that he’s equally as wreaked as you are is the primary cause of your emotions. They are deeply affecting you both, and even though you would prefer to hide in the next bush, you are pursuing each other naively and playfully. 

Your smiles are getting bigger as you gaze at one another, but his is weaker, more fragile, as in ‘until the piece I composed gets your pass, I am afraid.’

You close your eyes because you don’t have enough in you to match that.

The outside world ceases to matter as the ambient composition intensifies and begins to resolve inside you.

You explode at the slightest touch from a ‘soft boy’ who leans in close and tries to listen through your headphones. 

Since he also expressed dissatisfaction over never having heard the music, you try to be understanding and let him into your space too. He was unable to listen to it earlier due to the ‘it is not completed’ statements. This was his chance. And so, you acknowledge that this evening, everything came together to allow the two of you to feel the excitement of being the first to hear something so exquisite.

The storm itself, you can swear, ceased.

Though the sound of life is muffled by the composition in your eardrums, you can somewhat hear three heartbeats pounding in time with the music. It feels as though nothing matters and yet everything has led up to this.

‘Music boy’ watches your reactions as both of you remain silent, neither of you speaking to disturb the bliss. 

This rescue is slow-moving and pleasant compared to Tokyo’s fast life. You find a brief moment of inner tranquility after so much running, fury at the weather, and anger towards the electronic device in your back pocket.

Entirely, you lose yourself in the song, and the way your lashes curl to soften the likely pictures that appear beneath your lids is proof of this. It seems that even in Tokyo, things can come to a stop. 

Like a drop of rain in the countryside, your smile is sincere and pure. That is what he has composed, and that is what this is. He has awakened that within you. 

Clarity and translucence—opposing to the densely scented city air, which is heavy with the smell of burned street meat and motor oil.

As distinct as the boys standing next to you, everything has a raw beauty.

When you turn to face the taller one, you find that your noses are almost in contact because of how close the headphones have brought his face to yours.

His most beautiful features are dripping with admiration as he gives you the thumbs up. Although you find the signal confusing, you nod because you think it is abrupt and cute.

Upon turning to face the musical prodigy as you currently perceive him—you having no prior knowledge of him—he grins more than ever.

With great anticipation, he asks, “And!?”

“I wish I had a better word to describe it, but it is rather majestic. The melody is lovely and seems to pour love and tranquility indefinitely. It made me feel better. Basically, thank you, is all I have to say.”

“It truly did the same for me,” remarks the tall guy, nodding. “You know, he never lets us listen to his music,” he adds, moving in closer to give the younger person a sweet shoulder shake. “This guy!!”

They both laugh it off, just like they did when they walked in beside you. They are unaware that, with those smiles, they have taken everything from you. However, as soon as you peek at the bus in the distance, read aloud your hotel’s street address, and confirm that it is your route, their smiles become lifeless and hollow almost instantly. In the same instant, the hope that they both brought about vanishes. There is a bittersweet sensation. 

Even though you all know the end is near, it seems like no one anticipated it.

All of it comes crashing down: the rain, the hope, the magic, and all three of your desperate sets of eyes that cannot stop staring into each other’s faces. Each microsecond, millisecond, and second matters. Everything was brief at first, then prolonged, and finally just brief again.

“It’s time to return this,” you utter as you remove the cardigan.

Given how chilly the owner’s hands are once you skin-brush them, the wool should feel even warmer in his hands after you return it.

“You must have frozen because of me,” you point out, brows knitted in concern. “I am so sor—”

“No, I am fine, don’t apologize,” he cuts in, unlocking the umbrella as he comes to his senses and accepts the arrival of reality. To protect you from the rain until you board the bus, he says, “Here,” giving you room to move under the umbrella.

Initially, you pout, believing that rejecting him would be best, but eventually, you stop yourself and follow his instructions exactly. It’s time to savor every moment, even if it’s just spending a little time together under an umbrella, before you part ways with them and never see them again.

You remove your headphones and give them back to the cutest prodigy you have ever met. “You should start having more faith in the things you create. That was really beautiful.”

“Thank you!!” The umbrella boy exclaims in his name. “Someone at last to make him begin to realize.”

The younger boy defends himself, smiling, “Shut up.” And, even though he’s well aware that the umbrella was never meant to fit both of them, much less three people, he’s still attempting to squeeze himself under it.

You guys are all biting smiles; there is such innocence and purity to the compressed situation all of you are in. This feeling is far more intense than what you experienced as a teenager witnessing your crash in the hallways. Greater than the scorching feeling you experienced on your first kiss. Which, on the other hand, makes this even more heartbreaking than the first time your heart broke. There is something odd about it all, and it has been a long day at that.

You stay sandwiched between their bodies, which rise on both sides of you as sturdy as a brick wall. You regretfully realize that you cannot be imprisoned between them forever, even though for a brief moment you wish you could.

You can sense the peculiar chemistry has subdued the storm, and it even appears to be stopping the rain. And as it draws near the bus stop, the bus finally lets out its sharp, piercing ‘pissss’ sound.  You’re thinking somewhere in the back of your mind about how this sound is going to become your least favorite sound. The noise that will always bother you the most because it’s ruining something so beautiful.

When you look into their faces, all you see is gold dust smeared in their eyes. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” you eventually admit.

They return with the same admiration, though with a sorrowful smile.

They wait until after you get on the bus. They wait for you to get comfortable, knowing that you will take their side and catch your farewell look out the window.

That is precisely what you do; you approach the first seat with that same thought in mind. Rain cascades down the glass, and the windows are a little foggy and difficult to see through due to the warmth inside.

Inside and around your heart, there is a heavy, funny feeling. You make an effort to clear the fog from the window but the moment feels so so hopeless as the bus starts to move. In actuality, all you’re doing is wiping the mist as you attempt to wave goodbye and get a good look at them for the last time. Still, it’s too late.

All that is left to do is gaze for a brief while at the vanishing landscape, registering absolutely nothing.

Finally, you tilt your head back and sigh at the biggest sigh ever. There is a distant echo of a Japanese woman’s voice coming from the bus radio. When you turn on your phone, the first thing you see is your camera folder. 

It’s inexplicable why you thought it was necessary to take a picture of them with your phone while simultaneously taking one with theirs. You are left puzzled, staring at the most recent two pictures in your folder. 

‘Love is a captured moment,’ you used to say. You get the impression that life is making fun of you.

It becomes really annoying to swipe between the two photos. Their boyfriend vibe is unmatched. Imagination takes over. It seems as though you have never desired anything more. 

You carefully touch the screen to enlarge the images, capturing their faces with your fingertips. The attractive strangers in the photos are names you will never know.

© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.

[reitski]

❝𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲❞ . ｡˚ ♡

⤹★ warnings ★⤸ : fluff!, kissing, clingy!nagi seishiro x gn!reader, sick!nagi, timeskip characters

⤹★ word counter ★⤸ : 671

Your phone was buzzing with text notifications. Even you already knew who it was, you found yourself reaching over to unlock it anyways, immediately noticing Nagi's contact. Fondness spread your heart at his messages but then, you felt something is wrong about him.

' Please come home right away '

It was afternoon, you were at the work and he supposed to be in his football train. Why was he at home? Did he injured at train? Your mind was filled with questions, afraid of the thought that something happened to your boyfriend. You shoot him a ‘ be there soon ’ text and shut your phone off.

You shivered with the cold permeating your skin. The rainy weather has always been your favorite but today was really cold. The cold hit you once again when you saw him.

'' Sei, '' you whispered, stopping just a few feet in front of him. He was sitting crouching at the door of the house you two share. As you looked at him in shock, you noticed that he was soaked. Entirely.

'' Why did it take you so long to come? '', he groaned, '' Can you stop looking at me like that? I'm waiting for a long time door to open. ''

You took him right into the house. You can’t help but be concerned for how long he’s been possibly standing outside. '' What are you doing here at this hour, also- where are your keys?! '', you asked while he was sneezing. '' Training ended early and I lost my keys.'' His nose and cheeks were rosy pink, his pretty eyes were teary from the sneeze. It hurt to see your lover like this.

'' Alright baby, I'm gonna prepare a hot bath. Just take off your wet clothes and wait a little bit, okay? '', you said and kissed his cold lips, cupping his face with your warm hands.

Nagi walked over your shared bedroom to take his clothes off. Today was a tiring day for him. Practice, rain, people... Everything was annoying to him but you. He knew that he was getting sick -he hated it- yet he finally felt happy and safe for being with you.

He entered the bathroom and looked at you with a pout. You knew that your boyfriend loves physical affection but he gets clingier when he's sick. You smiled and started messaging his scalp in the tub. Unable to resist how adorable he looked, you leaned in to place a brief peck on his nose, causing him to close his eyes in delight whilst a small smile formed on his mouth. '' You are such an idiot. I worried a lot for you. ''

'' Sorry about that. '', he sighed in content as he sinked into you. After a few moments of allowing him to cling to you, you pat him three times, mimicking surrender. '' Love, can we get up now? ''

'' Jus’ wanna hold you, '' he murmured.

'' You can do that better in bed. ''

'' Let’s get going then. ''

You knew that he was tired so you helped him to get dressed, dried his snowy white hair.

You and Nagi finally lay down on the bed. He held you against him tightly, arms around your waist whilst rubbing small circles. '' Thank you for taking care of me. '' muttered the striker, low and quiet, his words danced with the moonlight seeping through the window of room. It felt so nice, to be in his embrace. It felt really nice to hear this sentences from him with his deep melodic voice.

'' It's okay, '' you smiled as you kept caressing his hair. '' I love you. ''

'' Goodnight kiss? '' Nagi requested. You looked at him in adoration before leaning in, meeting his lips in a gentle, affectionate kiss, one that has both of you smiling into it. '' I love you too... '' he muttered as he closed his eyes.

[tartigglez]

"i'm here now, aren't i?

diluc x gn!reader

genre: fluff/hurt-comfort??

word count: 1.6k (i got carried away)

tags: diluc is our mr darknight hero, soft hours, diluc gets wounded :( but its fine u can take care of him, many kiss, such cuddle, shy diluc at the end bc i have brainrot gonna be honest

tw/cw: descripton of blades (swords), brief description of cuts/wounds + treating them, scars, reader is alone at night (idk if this is worth mentioning but better safe than sorry), diluc carries reader in some positions that would be considered sorta feminine????, insomnia (?), lmk if i missed any

a/n: FINALLY DILUC! gotta say, i love the graphics for this sm, i feel like i did a rlly good job (giving myself credit bc they're pretty). i love soft boi diluc and intend to write for him more ngl, anyways, enjoy!

a wet, stormy night at dawn winery proved to be the reason for your lack of sleep. the sounds of the thunder and lightning clattering outside, accompanied by the drumming of the rain on the window were so loud that they tried to take priority in your mind. however, the only thing you could bring yourself to think about was your lover, all alone, in the cold. 

the empty space in the bed next to you, the lack of his presence, the ominously daunting weather outside. these things all worried you. 

what if he got hurt? 

what if something was wrong? 

what if…?

don't think about it. don’t. 

you knew that you wouldn’t be getting sleep anytime soon, so you got out of bed, putting on the bathrobe which was hanging on the wardrobe door, and brought yourself to the sitting room, perhaps to distract yourself with a book? but in reality you were just going down there to wait for him. 

so you waited

first 10 minutes

then 30 minutes

then an hour

then decided that enough was enough

you could defend yourself in combat, you could wield a weapon, and you would do anything to know that diluc was okay. 

and so you found yourself back in your bedroom, in the wardrobe, looking for the longsword he told you he had left in there for emergencies. 

the blade was sharp, and glinted silver in the light. the handle was encrusted with what you could only assume were rubies, and so you concluded that this sword must have costed diluc a significant amount of money. 

you lifted the sword from its case, sheathed it, and then you realised the weight of the weapon, which wasn’t exactly the lightest, to say the least. 

you left the winery, still in pyjamas, your bathrobe having been replaced with a jacket, quietly closing the front door to your home as to not awaken any of the staff who also lived there. 

if you were going to be quite honest with yourself you weren't sure where exactly you were going, but you just began walking down the path…

the night was eerie. the cold, windy air hit your cheeks as you moved slowly away from the winery. it wasn't shortly after you began your walk that you heard a sound. an immediate response of adrenaline came to you, and so you drew your sword, ready to face whatever was coming near you. 

after about ten seconds of standing still and hearing the sound get closer to you, you saw a red light glowing about ten metres away. with your sword still drawn you moved closer to the light, preparing for combat, and the light moved closer to you as well.

within a split second, you realised that the light was that of a pyro vision, the light of his pyro vision. you dropped your weapon on the ground, and he did the same as you ran to him. as if by natural instinct, you jumped into his arms as he wrapped once of them around your waist, and used the other to hold you up. neither of you said anything for a bit, simply holding each other and allowing yourselves, and your heart rates, seemingly, to calm down. after all, you must have startled the man, appearing out of nowhere like that. 

he placed you gently down, back onto your feet as he held your waist with one hand, and placed the other on your cheek. 

the man had a face of pure concern as he looked into your eyes, why would you possibly be out here at this time of night?

his hair was tousled, and his lip had been cut, presumably in some sort of rough battle. not only that, but his shirt had been slightly ripped as well, presumably by some sort of sword, or in this case, a mitachurl axe.  

“have you been injured? are you well? why are you out here?”

these were all things you ought to be saying to him, so why was he so concerned about you? 

“i was worried about you, you were supposed to be home and i-”

“do not worry, all is well, i am here, love”

“you’re hurt”

“surface level injuries dear, please, settle. I’m here now, arent i?” 

“yeah, yeah”

he pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss upon your head. 

“let’s go home, you’re cold.”

and so, without dwelling upon it, you walk hand in hand back in the direction of the winery, coming across the sword you had previously dropped on the ground. you sheathed it once again, and picked it up. diluc let out a light chuckle. 

“you were really that worried about me?”

“what do you mean, of course i was!”

“my dear, a weapon of this size is far too heavy for you to carry, allow me”

“you can’t, you’ve already got your own sword, its too much and you’re injured an-”

he cut you off…

with his lips…

“i'm fine. trust me. i'm more than capable of carrying this sword, its only half the weight of mine”

“hmph, fine. but don't come crying to me later when your back hurts, mister high-and-mighty!”

“very well, sweetheart”

you grabbed his large, calloused hand to lead him back to the winery, and although you wouldn’t see it in the moonlight, a rosy blush dusted itself over his cheeks. archons, he loves you. 

as the pair of you entered the winery once again, diluc placed both his weapon and yours down beside the front door, smiling to himself at the fact that you cared about him this much. it also seems to him that you didn’t notice, the longsword you had gotten out of the closet matched his greatsword, it was simply a smaller version. 

you both enter the sitting room, which is still dimly lit. diluc gestures towards the fire, which immediately relights, due to the skilled use of his pyro vision. 

“you are cold, dearest. i shall move the sofa closer to the fire, and we will sit for a while, yes?”

“luc’, at least let me tend to your wounds first, you're hurt”

the look of concern on your face caused a veil of guilt to loom over him. but he brushed it off, as to not make you feel bad about caring for him so much. 

“fine, but be gentle”

“i will”

and so, you both sat on the soft plush of the sofa, diluc with his shirt off, and you gently caring for the shallow wound slightly above his left pectoral, dabbing it with a damp towel. his skin was covered in battle scars, but it was beautiful, in some way. these were the lengths your lover would go to for the sake of other people, an admirable trait to say the least. 

diluc admired your concentration whilst caring for his wounds, and was slightly surprised when you manoeuvred your body to straddle his lap, only so you could get a better angle to analyse his injuries, of course (definitely not to look at his muscular arms or anything like that). he placed one of his large hands on your thigh, and the other on your waist, as you gently cared for any other wounds on his body. your skin made contact with his as you put your hand on the warm skin of his shoulder to balance yourself. 

“you’re freezing, dear, your hand is so cold”

“hm, i guess i just didn’t warm much since being outside”

“that won’t do”

a gentle heat began to spread through you, from your heart around the rest of you, warming every inch of your body. he had used his vision on you.

“tsk, pyro users”

“i know, right?”

the man was surprisingly chipper, considering the injuries he had sustained. you both laughed, for some unknown reason, at a joke which wasn’t really all that funny, but that’s love for you. and as the light of the fire began to dim, and the pair of you began to tire, he placed a gentle kiss upon your lips.

“shall we go to bed, dear?”

“yes, please! archons- i’m tired”

“i'm sorry, i feel that this is my fault”

“oh it is entirely your fault, mister darknight hero”

“i told you not to call me that”

“and i told you not to stay out too late, no?”

he let out a chuckle, lifting you from your position on the sofa, and carrying you to your shared bedroom, whilst holding you close to his chest. he removed you from his grasp momentarily, placing you on the bed and telling you to get under the covers, just so he could remove the necessary garments to be comfortable for bed.

yawning, he pulled back the duvet and placed his weary body next to yours, quickly moving to bury his head in your chest and wrap his arms and legs around you. your hands moved to his hair out of natural response, gently massaging his scalp as you fiddled with his vermillion locks. 

"i love you, y/n”

“i love you more, luc’” 

you placed a sly kiss to the crown of his head, and he only hid his face from you further out of shyness, whining into the fabric of your pyjamas.

“you’re so cute”

“don't call me that”

“night, cutie”

and so, you both drifted off into slumber, held in each others arms, held in love. 

[chrollo-lucilfers-chains]

Chrollo x reader x platonic-ish!Machi

And they were roommates...

Warnings: none

Notes: How it started.

When the spider doesn't have any missions, the feared phantom troupe spreads out to do their individual business. Some keep up their usual behaviors, participating in minor thefts to keep busy and wait for updates from the boss. Others go back to their respective 'homes' or houses, like the Zoldycks, to lay low and relax for a while.

Machi usually considers herself part of the first. In reality though, at this point she might be the latter.

It's not that she feels some sort of pride in not admitting to a safe place, the reason is more that she hasn't mentally adjusted to the realization, she actually has a place to call 'home'.

The first time Chrollo meets you, he is rather unprepared for it.

There's a sound of keys jingling in the lock and Chrollo looks up from where he's sitting. He turns to Machi with an unspoken question but she only shrugs, apparently unconcerned. If she's not concerned he doesn't have a reason to be either.

They're staying at her apartment in the city of York New after successfully robbing a museum a few cities over.

The phantom troupe members all have various hideouts and properties that they go back to when Chrollo doesn't have any missions for them.

During these 'breaks', as Shalnark calls them, the members of the phantom troupe rest. Some like to do it individually, some even share an apartment (and some just break into random houses).

Chrollo's nearest safehouse would be another few hours west, so Machi had invited him to stay the night at hers after their accomplished evening was done, offering him her couch.

The various paintings and statuettes had been promptly moved to the attic. Chrollo didn't mind if Machi took care of selling them this time. She would send him half the profit later on anyways.

He'd been slightly perplexed by the two bedrooms but had just neatly filed it away in his brain as information for later.

So now they're relaxing in the living room. Chrollo is currently laying in an incredibly comfortable armchair whose brand he's going to have to look up later, while Machi has draped herself onto the couch with a book in her hands.

Chrollo, having also borrowed something to tead, had been positively surprised by her bookshelves as they contained all sorts of philosophy, psychology and sociology, which he rather enjoyed.

When relating this back to Machi, she had only shrugged and said that they didn't belong to her, which in return greatly confused Chrollo. But Machi hadn't said anything else so he hadn't asked.

Apparently Machi has a roommate... How interesting, he thinks and concentrates back on his book.

The door opens and a young woman walks in, still hidden from the two in the living room because of the hallway, hair swept into chaos by the raging weather outside.

The sound of the storm is audible in the background before you shut the door behind yourself with a small curse. Sighing, you hang your coat on the rack and take off your soaked shoes. Stupid storm!

As you shuffle towards the kitchen you appear in the doorway to the living room for a few seconds before disappearing into the kitchen, not having noticed the two yet as they're reading in a comfortable darkness, neither of them having bothered to turn on the lights earlier. After all, they are both able to see very well in the dark and electricity is expensive these days.

In the silence of the room, Chrollo immediately understands that Machi was counting on you coming 'home' and still invited him, which means she's showing him a part of herself that he hadn't known yet. She'd probably calculated this, so it was intentional for him to be here right now. Accordingly she's counting on him to behave with this new information.

"Oh my god! Machi!!"

He had noticed your presence returning from the kitchen before you'd turned on the light and jumped back, almost hitting the door while clutching at your chest in surprise.

"You're home?! I thought you wouldn't be back for almost another week, Mochi?"

Chrollo hones in on the nickname.

Mochi? Like the sweet ice treat? Machi only nods. "We finished early."

"We?", You ask in confusion and it's only then that you notice the pale, incredibly handsome stranger sitting in your favorite armchair.

"This is Chrollo. He's the colleague slash boss. From work."

He smiles with his head tilted slightly to the side, like a cat showing you his pearly white teeth.

"Oh.. oh! You mean that Chrollo?!" You ask Machi who only nods in her typical style of few words.

"Wow! Well, it's nice to meet you! I've heard so much about your adventures together."

You walk over to where he's sitting, extending your hand for him to shake in a friendly manner.

"Likewise," he takes it and squeezes in a firm but not hurtful grip, with the gentle manner that only those certain kinds of people have, who know precisely how to control their strength.

It's a nice grip, you decide, while looking into his eyes.

And damn, those eyes. Steel grey, just as cool as the name of the colour implies, that seems to stare directly into your soul.

At the same time, Chrollo's suspicion is proven right. You're not a nen user. Which is incredibly interesting. Not only does Machi have a roommate but she has a non-user, a civilian as a roommate, who is apparently interested in the same literature as him and calls Machi cute nicknames. The latter is important because usually nobody is allowed to tease her or give her nicknames unless they want their heads cut off.

The fact that she doesn't only tolerate you calling her after a japanese dessert but apparently seems used to it and unbothered, even actively responding, was quite telling about the relationship the two of you seem to have.

"He needs a place to crash for the night. Is that fine with you?" Machi asks.

"Sure, I don't mind. You know where the spare blankets and pillows are, right?"

Machi confirms your question and so you excuse yourself to go to bed, after wishing them a good night.

Truly, how interesting. He's going to have to investigate that a bit further. If only to satisfy his own curiousity.

After you've left, Machi makes him swear to never tell another troupe member about any of this. He agrees easily. The trust of his members is not something he takes lightly after all and Machi seemed to truly care about you in some way.

He doesn't mind his spiders having a private life. As long as it doesn't interfere with their duties when the time comes.

A similar situation occurs after a mission few weeks later and he asks to stay over once again.

This time you're sick and wrapped in blankets on the couch when the two troupe members arrive. Machi takes your temperature in a moment of gentleness that's so out of character for her that Chrollo begins to wonder about her true personality.

You smile at him gently in your feverish state and he feels himself smiling back.

He also marvels again at how weak Machi's friend seems to be. It's not derogative, he's just genuinely surprised at civilians bodies. He's seen sickness before in meteor city but not often in adults and never something as light as this 'cold' that seems to have quite the effect on you.

Chrollo watches as Machi makes a tea for the three of you and carefully places yours on the couch table.

Not for the first time he asks himself why she keeps you around. Again, not in a malicious way, he's simply curious as to why Machi chose you in particular as her roommate.

He poses the question to Machi later, who thinks about it for a few seconds. "I suppose it's just nice not to come back after a mission and walk into an empty, dark house."

She explains how the two of you had started out as a hook-up. You'd met more than once for sex but figured out that romance or a purely sexual relationship just didn't feel right.

But Machi kept coming to your home after missions, enjoying your company. At some point you had apparently asked Machi to just move in already since plenty of her time was spent in your home amyways. What started as a joke became mutually beneficial for both of you. Sharing the rent being just another added benefit. Not that Machi needs the money but she isn't an excessive spender so she doesn't mind saving some either. Saving money is also a habit back from the old days some of the troupe have acquired, even if desperate times are long gone.

Chrollo knows that there's more to you than she is willing to admit to right now but he doesn't pry. After all, he can see the affection in the way Machi takes care of you, gently picking you up in your blanket cocoon and placing you back in bed so you could rest some more.

"She made muffins for the two of us while stuck at home... But she said you could have one if you wanted. By the looks of it, she was pretty out of it too so she probably won't notice one missing tomorrow either way."

Chrollo is perplexed by the cup of sugar being placed in front of him. It looks like one of those advertisements in the subway but still visibly self made. Pink and with sprinkles, he notices, the effortlessly wound white details around the pastry, made of even more sugar.

"She says it calms her down. Baking." Machi offers as an explanation.

Chrollo decides to try the unfamiliar treat and it's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted.

The flavours melt on his tongue in a sinful way and he is delighted by the little sprinkles on top.

It's a light vanilla cream filled with cherries in an incredibly fluffy vanilla sponge. Machi shows a tiny smile to him with a knowing look, while reaching for a second serving herself.

The next morning, when you come strolling into the kitchen in your pajamas, Chrollo is sitting next to Machi enjoying a cup of steaming Earl Grey tea. It's strangely domestic.

"G'morning," you yawn, apparently feeling much better than you did yesterday.

The two others nod at the same time in the exact same way and you disguise a laugh behind your hand at their similar behavior.

Machi had told you that she got along well with her 'boss' but this was just strangely adorable. You wonder if they are somehow related.

Sitting down at the table, Machi offers a plate with toast to you, which you accept with a small 'thanks'.

Then you turn your attention to the black haired man sitting across from you.

"So Chrollo, how do you two know each other? I mean I know you work together but like ... How did that happen?"

He looks at Machi who had told him about her 'alibi' with you yesterday.

You think she is an antique hunter and art collector who finds special pieces on auctions and museums all over the world and resells them to other collectors. It's an alibi most of the troupe uses. You know she makes good cash as well.

"Well, occasionally we go on searches or expeditions together. You could say Machi works for me in some way."

You nod your head, you know that much.

"So you organise and manage the leads and assign them to the others?"

"Sometimes. Other times I take part in the hunts as well."

"Oh, are you a hunter too?" You sound exited at the prospect of another nen user. He smiles charmingly.

"I am, yes." He's not even lying. He completed the hunter exam a while ago to use the hunter licence. It came in handy quite often to be allowed to use nen legally. It hadn't been hard for him anyways. The tests of the exam weren't a match for his abilities so it served more as a vacation with extra credit than anything else.

Machi had assured him earlier that you would never tell anybody about what she or he told you. In the years she's known you, a lot has happened but you've never broken her trust once.

He still won't tell you anything of importance. Partially for your own safety as well.

There's more than one hunter in the world who can find out secrets without the person's consent. Pakunoda is only one of many.

Sitting across from him and staring at his eyes you finally realize what they remind you of. They look precisely the way one would imagine the eye of the storm to look like, calm but surrounded by incredible destructive power.

You can't really place why and you also don't find yourself minding the feeling of being swallowed by the gray.

However, you do find yourself wondering wether jn his eyes there is also some kind of warning.

He might just pull you into the storm and fill your life with the chaos that comes with standing in the eye of a hurricane.

[twink-between-worlds]

safety net

hello linked universe fandom, we have returned after months with queer rabbits. tried a more spaced-out format, trying to please people who said our other writing style gets too confusing. (i just think they cant read -dex)

ao3 link; x

“What’re you doin up here, rabbit?”

“Ah—oh! Honeybee, hi. Sorry, did I wake you up?”Ravio turned to the side, watching as Legend sat down next to him on the roof.

Legend just hummed. “What’s wrong?”

“...huh?”

“You only do this when you’re upset. What’s wrong?”Legend shouldn’t push him, not really, but it’s the only way Ravio ever admits when something’s bugging him. They’re as stubborn as each other sometimes.

For a minute, it’s quiet, the only sounds heard being each other's breaths. Then, “I get scared when you’re away,”Ravio whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, “I get scared that you won’t come back. That you’ll get hurt, or worse. I mean—you got stabbed, bun. That’s—that’s scary.”

“I don’t like being away either,”Legend admitted. “I never know if you’re safe when I’m gone. Realistically I know you are, but..”The hero trailed off, ending with a vague, “Yeah.”

Ravio let out a breath. “Yeah.”He repeated with a small laugh.

Another silence followed, but this one felt…lighter than the one before. No baited breath, waiting for one of them to admit to anything.

“Wouldn’t want Hyrule’s best merchant to die off, would we?”Legend grinned slightly, a lopsided little thing.

Ravio couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Well lucky, I don’t want my favourite customer dying anytime soon!”

“Can we go back inside now? It’s freezing out here.”

“Well, Mr. Hero, maybe you would be warmer if you didn’t insist on wearing a dress in all weather!”Ravio tutted at him, but began to unwind his scarf from his neck.

“It’s not a dress! They’re tunics, not dresses. And they’re way more comfortable.”Legend complained, arms crossed.

“Whatever you say, honeybun.”He replied, simply looping his scarf around Legend’s neck a few times. “There we go~ You should be warmer now! I won’t charge you for this one.”

“You would charge me for it?”

“...nah, probably not.”He admitted with a sigh.

“Good. Guess that means I can take your scarf more often then, right?”

“You like it that much?”Ravio laughed, face tinting slightly red when Legend nodded in response. “Wow.”

“It smells like you.”

“Oh.”The merchant paused, not having expected that. “That’s nice of you to say, Mr. Hero.”

“Mhm.”Legend hummed out, leaning against the other. “...I’m sorry I got hurt.”

“No no no, don’t you dare apologise for getting hurt. You didn’t exactly do it yourself!”Ravio laughed. “...did you?”

“No, Rav, what the fuck?”

“Hey, you can’t blame me for asking!”Ravio cackled. “For all I know, you stabbed yourself so your lovely, caring boyfriend would nurse you back to health~”

“I’d rather die.”Legend huffed. “I wouldn’t trust you to look after me with a stab wound anyways.”

Ravio gasped, loud and dramatic. “That’s so mean! I would take the best care of you!”

“Yeah right.”

“I would and you know it. I’d take the best care of my prince,”He grinned, throwing the nickname in there just to see the hero go bright red, laughing when the other pushed him away, embarrassed.

“I-I told you not to call me that.”Legend complained, though the blush on his face and the way his ears pointed downwards betrayed any semblance of annoyance.

“Fine~”Ravio giggled, nuzzling Legend’s shoulder. “I won’t call you my prince. Even though it’s true.”

“Rav!”

Another laugh.

“We should probably go back inside though. You’re right, it’s a little cold.”

“A little? It’s fucking freezing.”

“You didn’t have to come after me.”Ravio offered a hand to the hero, helping him climb down the side of the roof.

“Yes I did,”Legend insisted. “I needed to make sure you were okay, rabbit.”

“Awh, that’s so sweet of you~”

“Go to hell.”The hero replied bluntly, sighing quietly when he was standing on the grass again, waiting for Ravio to hop down from the roof.

“I’ll probably meet you there, Mr. Hero.”

“Probably? Nah. You’ll absolutely meet me there. No doubt.”Legend snorted, heading inside the house when Ravio finally gathered the courage to jump down from the roof.

“Guess you’re never getting rid of me, then!”Ravio replied cheerfully, pushing his hood down once they got inside. He doesn’t understand it, but Legend has a rule about hats and hoods being worn inside. Says it’s bad luck or something.

The two made their way back to their bedroom, quiet so as to not disturb any of the heroes currently sleeping on the floor in the living room.

“You put your prosthetic on just to check on me?”Ravio realised belatedly, as they made it to the bedroom and Legend sat on their bed and began to remove the aforementioned metal leg.

“Couldn’t get onto the roof without it.”Was all he got.

Ravio wants to tease him for it, or remind him that he didn’t have to come and check on him, but any words he had died in his throat as he settled into bed, Legend curling up into his side. Legend was worried about him.

It’s…not too surprising—Legend’s always cared in his own way—but it still catches the merchant off guard.

“Rulie healed the wound after it happened,”The hero mumbled. “Made sure there wasn’t gonna be any lasting damage outside of a scar.”

“That’s good,”Ravio hummed, running his hands through the other’s hair. It’s suspiciously pinker than usual, but he won’t ask about it. Not right now, anyways. Maybe later. “Sucks that there’s gonna be a scar, though.”

“Eh,”The other shrugged, “It’s just another one to the collection.”

“Honeybee…”

“I know,”He sighed. “Sorry. It’s just easier to think of them as a collection instead of injuries.”

“It’s okay.”Ravio assured him, pressing a soft kiss to Legend’s forehead. “...you’re gonna take the scarf off to sleep, right?”

“Um…I wasn’t planning to, no, but if you’re worried about me choking or something I can take it off.”He laughed quietly. “Do you want me to remove it?”

“If..you don’t mind. I just worry that it’ll get tangled.”

“Fair enough,”The hero shrugged, unwinding the scarf and placing it on the table beside the bed. “I’m really fucking tired, so I’m definitely going to fall asleep soon, but if you need to leave again, wake me up. Okay?”

“Okay, good night bunny.”

“Night, rabbit.”Legend pressed a kiss to Ravio’s cheek before settling, burying his face into Ravio’s neck.

He was asleep within minutes, which isn’t really anything new. It warms Ravio’s heart a little, knowing that Legend feels safe with him. The merchant continued to play with the hero’s hair, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the other’s breathing. He knows he can’t protect Legend when he’s out adventuring, when he’s doing his job, but… At least he can protect him here, and at least he knows Legend is safe here. That’s all he can really ask for. Ravio knows he can’t make him feel safe all the time, but he’s glad he can at least make him feel safe in his own home. Which is a bit of an odd sentence, but he knows that Legend struggled with that a little bit before he came along. He sighed, closing his eyes. He shouldn’t still be awake, Legend will worry if he has bags under his eyes again. At least he fell asleep easily tonight, which probably had something to do with having the hero asleep in his arms, safe and sound.

[blouisparadise]

Today we have the second part to our protective Harry rec list! To check out the first part, click here. We hope you enjoy all of the amazing fics on this list and show them a lot of love. If you want our rec lists to continue, please like and reblog this post to help spread the word! Happy reading!

1) Your Sins, My Vices | Explicit | 12,582 words

Louis hates soulmates. Harry has waited his whole life for one.

2) You’re All I See In My Mind (I Think I See A Lifetime) | Explicit | 16,312 words

Kitten hybrid Louis gets kicked out of his house. With nowhere to go and a very cold and stormy weather outside, he ends up wandering into Harry’s shed to hide from the thunder and rain (he gets terrified by it). Harry hears crying from the shed so he goes to investigate.

3) A Little Bad Luck | Explicit | 17,237 words

"What the fuck do you mean, they quit?" Louis asks.

This man—demon, whatever—looks over at Louis with a withering glance before tossing the apple he's eating. It misses the trash can by about a foot, falling to the floor of Louis' kitchen and definitely leaving a sticky residue that he's going to have to clean up later.

"You kept getting yourself into trouble and their afterlife experience became too stressful, so they quit. After the fifth guardian angel quit their post last week, there were no other volunteers, so that's where I stepped in. I was getting bored of welcoming souls into hell anyway...they're so goddamn whiney, I'm always like, bro, just shut the fuck up—"

"So you're my guardian demon," Louis says flatly, cutting the demon/man/thing off before he can get any further.

He smiles largely enough to show dimples, which seem like a completely inappropriate thing for a demon to have.

"Exactly," the demon confirms.

4) Sweet Revelation, Bitter Wine | Explicit | 20,786 words

An enemies to lovers AU with Harry as the infuriating demon that activates Louis' demon slayer curse.

5) Thawing Permafrost | Explicit | 22,556 words

Louis is from the frozen mountains of Glacien. Harry is from the searing desert of Calidius. They come from opposite worlds, but all it takes is an arranged marriage to bring them together as one.

6) Never Been So Defenceless | Mature | 23,333 words

Harry always thought he’d falter in the face of danger, because no one can ever be truly ready to see their loved one in danger. Even with the warning that’s literally inked into his skin, all the training Harry’s done, and all the hours he’s spent in the gym, nothing could’ve prepared him for how it feels to look up and see the glint of a knife under the streetlights.

7) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34,589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

8) Spoonful of Sugar | Explicit | 42,900 words

Note; This fic is the sequel to this fic.

Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.

9) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words

Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who’s never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves.

Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?

10) If You're Out There (I'll Find You Somehow) | Explicit | 55,916 words

Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”

11) Just A Flicker In The Dark | Explicit | 57,204 words

Louis is a struggling witch desperate to prove himself after yet another magic disaster and finds a calling in the haunted house of client Niall Horan. Things get more complicated when he’s assigned a case partner: acclaimed medium and ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles.

12) From Chaos | Explicit | 62,764 words

Tale as old as time, a villain falls in love with an already taken hero who only wants to kill him.

13) I've Got You | Explicit | 62,988 words

As a reward for saving the king's life, Harry is offered omega Prince Louis' hand in marriage. Neither of them has any interest in the union going forward, and so they concoct a plan to prove to the king that they are far from a perfect match.

14) Crowded Town Or Silent Bed, Pick A Place To Rest Your Head | Explicit | 63,577 words

“Poem. I made you a poem.”

“Oh yeah? Can I hear your poem?” Louis turns on the car and exits the school building.

“Wait.” Louis takes a glance and sees his daughter struggle to open her bag, strained thanks to the safety belt. “Aha!” She shouts when she finally finds the wrinkled paper. She clears her throat dramatically. “My mama is cool, because one day he took me to the pool. My mama is beautiful, and I feel grateful. My mama is pocketful, because his pocket is always full.”

Louis ruffles Chrys’ hair making the green-eyed kid groan and swat his hand away.

“You think I’m beautiful?” Louis’ voice is soft.

“Well, duh. You’re the most beautiful person on Earth, mama.” She pauses for a moment. “Although, Uncle Zayn is beautiful too. But, still, you’re the most beautifulest.” She grins.

Louis’ heart clenches at that. Not because she just said he’s the most beautiful person in the world. But, because of the way she said it. Awfully similar to the other person who has the same green eyes as her. And the way she grins after that, identical.

15) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68,210 words

Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this.

16) Lost & Found In Oblivion | Explicit | 74,779 words

Omega Louis decided to hire an alpha for his heat to ease his touch deprivation, but little did he know everything would grow into so much more.

17) Strawberries & Cigarettes | Explicit | 76,763 words

Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

18) Echoes & Omens | Mature | 100,707 words

Echoes of the dead come in many forms. Their imprints forever tied to the ones who'd killed them.

Louis Tomlinson is able to track the dead using their echoes, they call to him. He's used that gift to aid Scotland Yard in their investigations, with the hopes of studying Criminology at Cambridge University. He's lived a life of privilege and good fortune as a Marquess, son of the late Duke Tomlinson, with his life mapped out since day one.

Until two terrible truths are revealed.

One, he's adopted.

Two, his biological parents are London's most notorious serial killers.

19) Among the Humans | Explicit | 129,435 words

A gothic, modern day vampire romance between a young human named Louis Tomlinson, and Harry Styles, ancient vampire and gentleman.

20) Love Me Until The End | Mature | 207,130 words

AU where Louis, an Omega, is the head nurse of the hospital in charge of running the nursing staff. Harry, an Alpha, is a highly respected surgeon working at the same hospital. They also happen to fall in love.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[a-killer-obsession]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 33 - Warmth

Discoveries are made.

Word Count: ~3k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055

Warm light bathed you as you stepped out onto deck, the tropical like weather of the summer island you'd just left still lingering in the air. It was a pleasant change after a series of winter and autumn islands. It'd been nine weeks since the marine base, putting you just past the halfway mark of your pregnancy, your belly now visibly rounded at five months along. Despite taking back your power from Thompson in a metaphorical way, the whole incident had left you rattled and brought up a lot of not great memories and feelings. You'd needed time to recover, mentally and physically, and properly adjust to the idea of being pregnant. It was for that reason that despite how active you'd been before the incident, only Killer had been allowed to touch you since then. You were feeling vulnerable and fragile, and you only wanted to be in the safe, strong arms of your boyfriend, the father of your future child.

Not that you'd been super interested in sex at all for several weeks though, which was fine, Killer was able to alleviate his needs with Kid until you were up to it. He hadn't fucked you hard again when you did give him the go ahead to go the whole way, only giving you all of his affection as he made love to you. You often found yourself just laying quietly together, one arm around your waist and one hand on your swollen belly. It was just as well you'd been a little emotionally clocked out because you were also feeling like shit. Your tits ached, you were hungry all the fucking time, and you kept getting headaches and heartburn. Killer was doing his best to look after you, as was Heat. If one wasn't near you, the other was. Kid tried, but he had no real idea how to help you, so the best you got was him putting extra food on your plate, which to be fair was pretty generous by his standards, and the occasional random care package of medication and bubble bath. It was the thought that counts, and you appreciated his quiet support anyway.

Heat had long since been your best friend on the ship, you'd always been able to go to him for anything, but ever since the Quincy-dent he'd been… different. It was like he needed to be physically tethered to you at times if Killer wasn't already wrapped around you. Even then, he'd find a way. It was small things, his shoulder against yours, his hand brushing against your hand, sometimes a linked pinky, his knee pressed against your leg at the dinner table. You often caught him watching you as well, a forlorn expression on his face. You chalked it up to him trying to finish what you'd started before the Quincy-dent, but you didn't mind it. You'd always felt safe with Heat, and he never tried to pressure you into anything. It was harmless, and he was still there for you emotionally whenever you needed him. He often stayed with you when Killer was on night watch, just keeping you company and keeping you warm, but he never took it further.

You started feeling like you wanted him to though. The sly glances you'd catch him stealing were starting to make you feel something, probably just arousal, maybe it was time to let him get what he was angling for. You'd certainly feel less guilty about it that way, not that it was your only driving force. You wanted him, more each day, the little touches sending electric sparks through your skin. You'd talk to Killer about it later, definitely, for now you were preoccupied with the fluttering in your abdomen. A few days ago you'd started to feel it, and when you checked on baby you'd come to realise that the fluttering matched with their movements. You could feel them kicking inside you, alive and well and healthy, waiting to join the world in four short months. Today was the exact day you hit twenty weeks, if you worked under the assumption that you'd gotten pregnant from the first time you slept with Killer. It was all quite miraculous really, Mohawk said you must have only ovulated once after joining the crew, and it must have just happened to have lined up with the island. It felt a little bit fated when he put it like that.

You found Killer working on breakfast, nuzzling your head against him. You weren't wearing your mask all the time at the moment, with the frequent headaches it was an extra pressure you often couldn't bare. The crew knew at this point to not be too loud around you if you weren't wearing it. Killer felt the lack of mask and sighed as he put down his cooking tool and turned to wrap his arms around you, putting a warm soothing hand on your forehead.

“Again, princess?” He said sadly.

“Yeah, it's not too bad today though,” you replied, pressing your face into his hand, “I just took meds, I'll probably be okay soon”

“Okay sweetheart,” he stroked your face, “but let me know if there's anything I can do okay?”

“There was something I wanted to talk to you about actually,” you hummed, turning yourself so you could rest your back against his torso and he could put his hands over your round belly. “You're on night watch tonight right?”

“Yeah, why's that?” He asked, “You thinking about going further with Heat?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you were still okay with it,” you put your hands over his and stroked the back of them with your thumbs.

“As long as you feel ready, I'm not gonna stop you,” he rested his chin on your shoulder, “he has been a little clingy huh?”

“I don't mind it though,” you hummed, “it's nice to know he still wants me even when I'm half whale”

Killer snorted and rubbed your belly lovingly. “I happen to think you look incredibly sexy right now, not to mention how much bigger your tits are”

“Do NOT touch them,” you warned, “I feel like someone is using them as punching bags in my sleep.” Killer huffed out a laugh and let you go to return to the breakfast prep.

“I pinky promise I won't grab your wonderful lovely tits, even though I very much want to,” he smiled under his mask and you could hear the smile in his voice. You smacked his chest playfully and stole a strip of bacon before heading out to take a seat for breakfast. Kid tried to steal your bacon as you sat and you very nearly bit his hand off, you'd become somewhat territorial of food the last few weeks. Snapping your teeth at him was enough for him to get the warning, more than one person had bite marks from you right now.

You leaned back in your chair and finished your bacon, flipping your bracelet to take a little peek at baby. You let out a little gasp and quickly turned your bracelet back, flushing a little as Kid raised a non existent brow at you.

“Something wrong?” He asked.

“Uh, no, perfectly healthy,” you stuttered, “just uh… saw something”

“The hell did you see to make you react like that?” Kid said curiously, glancing at your belly.

“Um.. a penis,” you replied.

“No fucking way!” He laughed, “Does Kil know?”

“Considering that was the first time I've seen it, no, he definitely does not,” you grabbed his ear and tugged on it, “and you're not gonna be the one to tell him, you hear me?”

You let go and he rubbed his sore ear. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, “you're fucking mean while you're knocked up”

“Say that again and I'll make sure to be meaner,” you huffed. He made a motion to show he was zipping his mouth shut.

“You know, I always thought Kil would have a girl,” Kid hummed.

“Me too, actually,” you replied, “I'm kinda surprised. Not that I'm upset about it. Just surprised.”

“Guess we can both cross psychic off our list of future potential careers,” he smiled. You snorted.

“Like you'd be any good at that,” you laughed, “you'd smash the crystal ball the second it didn't show what you wanted”

“You're not wrong,” he huffed as the others started to file in. Much to your shock, Kid was able to keep his mouth shut about the baby for the entirety of breakfast, though he did give Killer a proud smack on the back as he got up to leave which confused Killer immensely since all he'd done was cook a standard breakfast.

“What was that about?” Wire asked.

“No fucking idea,” Killer replied.

“I might have an idea,” you smiled awkwardly. There was no way you were holding in this secret any longer, if you did Kid would no doubt spill it anyway. The others looked at you expectantly. “I may or may not have seen something when I was taking a peek at baby”

“Are they okay?” Killer asked, concerned.

“Yeah, he's doing great,” you grinned. The others took a second to catch on.

“HE?” Wire finally yelled. The penny dropped and Killer stood suddenly.

“It's a boy?!” He exclaimed, he was clearly visibly excited, despite not being able to see his face.

“Sure is,” you laughed. The boys whooped and gave Killer playful shoves, and you took advantage of the situation to steal as much bacon from their plates as you could. Losers weepers buddies, mama needs that meat.

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when a knock came at the door. The rest of the day had passed without much note, other than being ambushed by the crew when they all found out you were having a boy. You could take a guess who was on the other side of the door, since Killer had left maybe ten minutes ago for the night watch. You opened the door for the resident fire breather and he gave you a warm smile. He wore only slippers and sweatpants, ready for bed. “Want company tonight?”

“Yeah, I do actually,” you took his hand and pulled him inside, “thanks for always staying when Kil is busy, I appreciate it Heat, I really do.”

“Anything to make you feel safer,” he replied with a shrug, kicking off his slippers and climbing into bed on Killer’s side. You took your prenatal meds with the glass in the bathroom and slipped into bed beside him, already in your pyjamas. You couldn’t fit any of your satin slips these days, so you usually just wore panties and one of Killer’s old shirts.

You cuddled into his arms immediately, tucking your head under his while his arms wrapped around you. You pulled one of his thighs to trap it between yours, stealing as much of his warmth as possible. It was something you'd craved the last few weeks, you couldn't get enough of his warmth. Killer was warm too but Heat was warm. His temperature always felt like it could melt away your aches and pains.

“You know I care about you, right Heat?” You mumbled against his chest.

“Of course,” he replied, “did something happen?”

“I just feel like I've been neglecting you is all,” you huffed, your hot breath making warm puffs against his bare chest. You sat back a little and ran your hand up the center of his muscular chest. “I haven't been taking good care of you,” you purred, “I wanna look after you, you've always taken such good care of me”

Heat made a small whimper as your hand ran back down, breezing over the waistband of his pants and over the tent in his pants. You palmed him through the soft fabric while your other hand found his cheek, urging him to bring his face closer so you could kiss him. You felt a spark of something intangible and he was on you like a predator, kissing you hard and running his hands up your sides, your back pushed against the mattress and his clothed cock rutting against your panties. His tongue pressed hard against yours, small strings of saliva connecting your mouths whenever he pulled away only to dive back in at a new angle.

One hand fisting his hair, your other pushed down the waistband of his pants till his cock was free, immediately going to work on stroking it the way he'd taught you. He grunted as you took hold of him, and you used the momentary distraction to push him back flat, climbing on top of him and straddling his thighs. You leaned down and sucked on his neck as you stroked him, kissing your way down his center and making marks on his muscles with nips and sucks till you were nosing at his blue pubes, making kitten licks on his pierced cock that drove him wild.

He let out a low whine when you finally took him in your mouth, god he'd missed your hot wet mouth. You took him as far as you could, getting a little lower with every bob of your head as your throat relaxed and you breathed through your nose, till finally you took all of him and he pulled hard on your hair, groaning and bucking up into you. You moaned in encouragement and he ran both hands through your hair to hold you firmly while he thrusted up into you, his head thrown back as he used you before pulling you off and bending to meet you, his tongue diving into your mouth with a groan. He kept you held firmly while he kissed along your jaw and neck, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes as he took a breast in his mouth. You whined, they were so sensitive and sore but you wanted him to enjoy himself. His eyes went wide all of a sudden and he pulled away, licking his lips.

“I… you… there's milk,” he said, it felt like a question. He squeezed the other breast gently and a small dribble of white collected at the tip and ran down his hand, and he licked it up with fascination.

“The baby books said this could happen any time but I guess I never noticed,” you hummed. There was barely any milk to be had, no more than what would fit on a penny, but he sucked on both breasts till he was sure he'd collected every small drop, and it made strange waves of euphoria rush through you. You'd read about that too, nature's way of encouraging breastfeeding by making it pleasurable. Heat was clearly enjoying himself too, his eyes practically rolled back in his head while his hand worked its way under your panties and played with your slick center. If you didn't know any better you'd think the man had a breastfeeding kink. By the time he was done suckling on you, you were practically fucking yourself on his fingers, and you whined as he curled them and ripped a orgasm from you.

He pulled his fingers from you and licked the slick from them, then he laid you on your back, lavishing your body with kisses as he removed all of your clothing, followed by his pants. Naked and bare to each other he kissed you with a fire you'd never felt from him, his tip prodding your entrance while he made soft moans in your mouth. You shuddered as he finally slid inside you, your arms and legs wrapping around him as he started a languid pace, his mouth still connected to yours, swallowing every little sound you fed him. He was breathing heavily as he pulled away, though you wouldn't let him go far, intent on staring into his dark eyes as he fucked you. His heavy cock dragging against your walls made you whine with every thrust, and he took one of your hands and held it next to your head. Something felt different about this time, it felt more like making love than two friends fooling around, and everything started to click into place as you looked into his eyes and saw just how much adoration was there. How had you missed it? The touches, the way he watched you, the way he needed to be with you whenever he could. Oh god, Heat loved you. But even knowing that, you couldn't find it in yourself to stop him, even though it felt like betraying Killer. Somewhere under the girlish butterflies he gave you, you felt like maybe you loved him too. This felt nothing like when he was just a friend teaching you how to feel good, he felt like a lover, and you squeezed his hand tight as the realisation shook through you and you came around his cock calling his name. His name on your sweet tongue was all he needed to fall past his edge, and he cried out for you as he painted your walls, his hand firmly in yours while he panted against your shoulder and filled you with his seed.

He didn't want to pull out, for fear he'd never feel what it was like to be inside you ever again. He knew you'd figure him out at some point, and you'd push him away, because how could you ever love him back? You were too sweet to drag him along like that, he knew once you realised he loved you that you'd stop letting him touch you, you wouldn't betray Killer, it was different if love was involved. He didn't know, or expect, that you would love him too. For now he took solace in what he could get, pulling you with him as he laid on his side, his softening cock still buried inside you, your thigh draped over him and your arms tight around his shoulders.

For now he could pretend, trick himself into thinking that you were his woman and it was his baby inside you, that you loved him the way he loved you. Watching the pain on your face when your heart stopped after the Quincy-dent was a turning point, the spark that made him realise he couldn't survive without you, that he wanted to be more to you that just a confidant and fuck buddy. He wanted all of you, even if that meant sharing, but Killer had been clear in his intentions. As long as you came home to Killer he didn't care who you fucked, which meant you could never come home to Heat. He tried not to cry at the thought that he'd never have you like that, he'd take what scraps he could get for now until you realised the extent of his feelings and rejected him, it was all he could do.

A/N: Thanks for the patience uploading the tumblr version of this, the app was really killing me and then it ate my draft and posted the chapter with half the fic missing :P Hope yall enjoyed the fluff the last few chapters cos next chapter is right back to the angst fuckery :)

[NEXT CHAPTER]