#i fear this one is going to be much more angsty than the last

[starsjulia]

shadows of strength // leah williamson x putellas!reader

a/n : i saw a tiktok saying “trying to explain clinical depression to someone who has only ever been sad over boys” and thats what this is loosely based of

warnings : clinical depression, brief mentions of self harm, all in all very angsty

The soft hum of rain pattered against the window as Leah sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes darting between her phone and the door. The clock ticked steadily, each second louder than the last, thudding in her chest like a drumbeat of dread. She’d been in this room with you so many times, watching movies, sharing quiet conversations, or just basking in the warm silence. But tonight, the air was cold and suffocating, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name.

“babe?” Leah called out, voice straining to sound steady. It cracked under the weight of the silence that followed.

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, fingers gripping each other so tightly they turned white.

The seconds bled into minutes. Finally, the bathroom door creaked open. You emerged slowly, eyes downcast, your sleeves pushed up ever so slightly and just enough for Leah to see the fresh, angry red lines etched into your skin. Leah’s breath caught in her throat, her vision blurring for a moment as the realization sunk in.

“Y/N,” she whispered, reaching out, her fingers trembling. You flinched, stepping back instinctively, your eyes darting away, the flush of shame painting your cheeks. It was as if the distance between you grew impossibly wide, despite standing only feet apart.

Leah’s mind raced, panic surging through her veins like ice. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen you hurting, but this... this felt different. More desperate. More final. She had never felt so helpless, so terrified. Her fingers fumbled for her phone, and before she could second-guess herself, she dialed the one number she knew could make a difference.

“Hello?” Alexia’s voice was sharp, guarded. Even through the phone, Leah could sense the tension that came with their strained relationship. The two of them had never been close; Alexia was fiercely protective, wary of Leah’s intentions and the age gap between you. But none of that mattered now.

“Alexia, it’s—it’s Leah. I’m sorry, but I need you to come. Now,” Leah stammered, her voice cracking under the weight of fear. The silence on the other end stretched for what felt like an eternity.

“Is she—” Alexia’s tone shifted, her voice tight with barely restrained panic.

“I don’t know,” Leah admitted, tears slipping down her cheeks. “But I’m scared.”

The line went dead, and Leah sat there, the phone slipping from her grasp as she turned her gaze back to you. You were sitting on the edge of the couch now, arms wrapped around yourself as if trying to hold the pieces of your mind together.

---

Alexia arrived in record time, storming into the flat with the fierce determination of someone who had fought this war before. She’d seen the darkness that clung to you, the way it would consume you until there was almost nothing left. The sight of you now, pale and shaking, made her heart seize. She dropped to her knees in front of you, pulling you into her arms without hesitation.

“Hermana pequeña, I’m here,” she whispered, her voice breaking, fingers brushing your hair back from your face. You crumbled into her, sobs tearing from your chest as the walls you’d so carefully built shattered.

Leah stood back, arms wrapped tightly around herself, watching the scene with a gnawing sense of inadequacy. She felt like an outsider, powerless to help the person she loved most. The guilt was suffocating.

“I can’t do this,” you mumbled into Alexia’s shoulder, voice raw and broken. “It’s too much.”

Alexia’s face tightened, a flash of fear crossing her features before she buried it under a mask of strength. “I know, mi amor. I know how dark it gets. But you are not alone, do you hear me? We’re going to get through this.”

Leah’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She stepped forward, finally finding her voice. “Y/N, I want to help. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You looked up at her, eyes rimmed with red, haunted and hollow. The pain there was deeper than anything Leah had ever known. It was more than sadness; it was a void, an emptiness that threatened to pull you under.

Alexia’s gaze softened as she looked at Leah. The rivalry, the unspoken judgment—none of it mattered in this moment.

“Leah,” she said, voice weary but kind. “Sit with us.”

Leah hesitated, then moved to sit beside you. The room was silent except for the steady drumming of rain against the window.

“I don’t know how to help her,” Leah admitted, eyes glistening. “I don’t understand this. I’ve never... I don’t know how it feels.”

Alexia’s eyes met Leah’s, and for the first time, there was no resentment, only understanding. “Clinical depression isn’t just sadness. It’s not something you can shake off or fix with kind words. It’s an illness, relentless and consuming. It turns every thought against you, makes you feel like there’s no way out.”

Leah swallowed hard, the weight of Alexia’s words pressing down on her. She looked at you, your body curled into itself, eyes squeezed shut as if warding off the storm inside.

“But there is a way out, right?” Leah’s voice was barely a whisper, laced with desperation.

Alexia’s expression softened. “There is, but it’s a fight. Some days, just getting out of bed is a victory. Other days, it feels impossible. What she needs isn’t for you to fix her; she needs you to be here, to hold on when she can’t.”

Leah reached for your hand, her touch gentle but firm. “I’m here,” she repeated, more sure of herself this time. “We’ll get through this. Together.”

The rain continued to drum against the window, a steady reminder of the storm outside. But inside, surrounded by the fragile bond of love and understanding, a small spark of hope began to flicker.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

In terms of non-canon, how did Pomni and Ragatha's relationship start? What’s Anya and Pomni’s relationship like? Also, how were Anya's teenage years? (Hopefully more easier than her brother's lol)

Well, the reason why Jesterdoll doesn't become canon is because Ragatha doesn't feel ready to be in a relationship on top of other things. A confession happens, but Ragatha becomes scared of becoming fully committed to another person again, so she turns Pomni down.

I mean the story ends with the possibility of Jesterdoll happening post-canon but AHEM I'm getting off track

BUT. For the sake of Jesterdoll, let's say Ragatha has already gotten over this fear by the time the confession happens. Guilt and trauma no longer clouds this confession, instead, Ragatha learns to use what she had went through to make this relationship work. So she accepts, and they are officially a couple.

Caine will overhear this as he was canonically eavesdropping by the time the confession happens, so he will be out of commission for a long ass while due to immense heartbreak. Seeking Kingr's comfort and company and literally not being available to everyone else as he is too shaken and depressed to be a leader at the moment. Oh, all the angsty kinda one-sided showtime, possible royalteeth that could be possible with this scenario, on top of wholesome Jesterdoll, GODDAMN GRRRRRRRRRR.

A-anyways, that is how they would start off.

Anya and Pomni's relationship is good, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have it's times of uncertainty from Pomni's side. Pomni's afraid that her gruff side would end up hurting Anya, so she's constantly having to explore how to be more gentle, calm, and a comforting presence towards her daughter. Tapping into her feminine side more, so she can bond with her; Joining the tea parties in dresses, pretending they're the queen and princess of the world, all the classic fun parenting stuff like that :>

The two kids are basically two sides of Pomni's spectrum that she has to learn to balance, not only for her kids to have a better life, but also so she learns how to better control her new self and her life going forward.

Anya's teenage years.... She'd be constantly on Pomni's side of the argument, leading to a slight rift between her and her brother. It's not her fault that her brother can't see their mom's point like she does.

Despite this nonetheless, Cade still trusts her enough to confide in her about things he feels and things he wants to share while exploring (yes, he is EXPLORING when he sneaks out.) which she tries to keep between the two of them, as both of them understand that their parents would likely not really understand the depth of his situation and how much this helps Cade get his mind off of things. She'd even cover for him while he's gone and they ask, distracting the adults with an infodump about a thing she's learned, which could last for HOURS. Anya's becoming more and more confident, but she's still reluctant on some things, like going out on the city.

Better to start slow, like her mom Ragatha.

[littlexdeaths]

just gonna… um. set this here 🏃🏼‍♀️💨

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

hii!!

can i request a kinda angsty fix where the reader and jude got into a stupidish fight and jude knows he’s in the wrong and tries to apologize but the reader just wants some fresh air and when she goes out a man is like following her and being creepy and she has to call jude to come get her.

i think it’d be cute to end kinda fluffy with apologies and kisses to make up.

p.s luv your work<3

a/n: thank you so much for your request, I loved writing this. I hope you like it!

MIDNIGHT APOLOGIES

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: none, just that English is not my first language and the lack of originality in the title.

summary: After a petty fight with Jude, you step outside for some fresh air, despite his insistence that you don´t. Alone at night, you feel a stranger following you and you call your boyfriend in fear. When he arrives, your emotions run high, leading to heartfelt apologies and sweet moments together.

It was one of those nights that felt off from the very beginning. Jude had come home late from training, and you were already on edge after a rough day at work. The tension had been simmering for a while, and it didn’t take much for it to boil over. It started with something small—something so ridiculous, neither of you would even remember the cause by the next day. Maybe it was about him leaving his stuff everywhere or you being short with him. Either way, it turned into something bigger than it needed to be.

“Jude, it is not that difficult to pick up your stuff,” you’d said, your voice tight with frustration. “It’s like you’re always leaving it there for me to pick up.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed. He was also tired after training and your bad mood didn’t help. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he muttered. “I’ll get to it later.”

“Yeah, of course,” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “You always say you’ll ‘get to it,’ but you never do, Jude. I feel like I’m doing everything, and you’re just… I don’t know...”

He huffed, clearly frustrated but trying to keep his cool. “I’m tired, you know? Training is intense right now, and I just need some time to relax when I get home. Not your naggings.”

“And what about me? I’m tired too. I’ve had a horrible day, and you are not helping.” You hated how emotional your voice sounded, like you were right on the verge of tears. The last thing you wanted was for this to turn into something serious, but you were exhausted—exhausted of feeling unheard.

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "I know you're upset, but I’m doing my best—”

“No, Jude. You’re not,” you cut him off, the words sharper than you meant. “You’re not even trying.”

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with the unspoken tension between you. Jude’s jaw tightened, and you could tell he was trying to bite back whatever he wanted to say. He knew he was in the wrong—knew he had been neglecting your needs, but his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. At least, not yet.

After a few more moments of the suffocating quiet, you sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I need some air," you muttered, grabbing your jacket from the chair and heading toward the door.

Jude straightened up from his position alarmed, his eyes following you. "This late? Babe, it's not safe out there right now."

You paused, your hand on the doorknob, turning to look at him. "I just need to cool off for a few minutes, Jude. If I stay here I’ll probably end up saying something I’ll regret."

His concern flickered across his face, but he held his tongue. Normally, he would’ve insisted you stay—that you work it out right then and there. But he knew this situation was his fault and that you would take his advice as a rude order. He didn’t want to escalate the situation any further. So, with a tight nod, he let you go, though the tension in his body was evident.

“Fine,” he muttered quietly, biting his tongue. “Just… be careful, alright?”

You didn’t respond, pushing the door open and stepping into the cool night air. As soon as you were outside, the weight on your chest lightened slightly. The cool breeze was a relief against your heated skin, and you walked with no particular direction in mind, just wanting to clear your head.

But as you wandered further away from your apartment, that feeling of relief slowly ebbed away, replaced by something else—a prickling sensation at the back of your neck. You glanced over your shoulder, your heart speeding up when you noticed a man a few steps behind you. His pace matched yours, and even though he wasn’t doing anything overtly threatening, there was something unsettling about his presence. You quickened your steps, trying to shake him off, but he did the same, closing the distance slightly.

You turned right onto a street, expecting the man to continue straight ahead. However, your heart began to race in your chest when the man not only imitated you, but also quickened his pace.

Your breath hitched, and your hand instinctively moved to your phone in your pocket. You fumbled with it for a second before dialing Jude’s number from memory, your fingers shaking.

He picked up after the first ring, his voice immediately concerned. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Jude," you whispered quietly, your voice trembling. "There's… there's a guy. I think he's following me."

There was a pause on the other end, and you could hear Jude moving, probably grabbing his jacket and keys. "Tell me where are you." His voice was sharp now, all traces of your earlier fight gone. You quickly rattled off the nearest street signs, your heart pounding in your chest as you continued walking rapidly.

"Stay on the phone with me," he said firmly. "I'm coming to get you. Don't look back—just keep walking towards the main road. I'll be there in five minutes."

You did as he said, your feet moving faster as you tried to reach a more populated area, but it was difficult due to these hours. Your heart was racing, but hearing Jude’s voice kept you grounded. You kept walking, glancing around nervously, but soon enough, you spotted him, his face set in a mixture of anger and concern. The man behind you seemed to realize what was happening and quickly disappeared into the shadows, leaving you alone.

Jude reached you in moments, pulling you into his arms without a word. You could feel how tense he was, his hand gently running up and down your back as he held you close and tight.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, his lips brushing the top of your head.

You nodded, your face buried in his chest as you answered him. "Yeah… I just got scared."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning your face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, cupping your cheek. "I shouldn’t have let you go out by yourself. I knew it wasn’t safe, but I didn’t want to argue more. That was on me."

You shook your head, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything. "No, no. It’s not your fault. I just needed some space, but I shouldn’t have gone out so late."

His thumb brushed over your cheek, and his eyes softened, guilt etched into every line of his face. "Still, I should’ve been more understanding earlier. I’ve been so caught up in everything, and I haven’t been thinking about how much I’ve been taking your actions for granted. I’m really sorry."

You sighed, the frustration melting away at the sincerity in his voice. "I just… I just want you to be here with me, Jude. I don’t need you to be careful about everything, just… a bit more understanding."

He nodded, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I will. I promise. I’m so sorry, baby."

His kisses came quicker after that, small and tender — one on your nose, another on your cheek, then the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped you, especially when he placed another light peck on your forehead.

"Jude," you muttered, but you were smiling now.

"What?" he grinned, pressing one more kiss to your lips. "I’m making it up to you."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable as you wrapped your arms around him tighter. "I think you're forgiven," you teased.

His smile widened as he pressed another kiss to your lips, this one deeper, lingering just long enough to make your heart race. “Good,” he whispered. “Because I’m never letting you go out at night alone again. Now I’m your bodyguard.”

Of course, you didn’t protest.

[infiniteimaginings]

chase davenport x reader pls the lab rats fandom is in a drought 🙏

I Missed You (Chase Davenport x GN!Reader)

Summary: Chase has been overworking himself with school, missions, his family, everything. He hasn't had time to see you recently, and no matter how he tries to open his schedule something else is added to his plate. So, you pay him a little visit just so he can take a break for a little while. Pronouns: You/Yours, They/Them Warnings: I won't lie, this is kinda angsty (but it ends on a good note!) Word Count: 1.4k A/N: THIS IS MY HUSBAND BY THE WAY. PLEASE REQUEST HIM MORE I BEG YOU GUYS! PLEASE! PLEASE, DO IT FOR ME!

One month, two weeks, one day, six hours, and twenty-nine minutes.

It’s been one month, two weeks, one day, six hours, and twenty-nine minutes, no, thirty minutes since the last time Chase Davenport had seen you in person. Along with that, it had been eight days, twelve hours, and seventeen minutes since he had last talked to you on the phone, since the last time he heard your voice. 

He had been keeping count because, god, he missed you so much. 

Davenport had him working on their next presentation of lab equipment, he had to go on a plethora of missions that have spiked up recently, there had been visits from their grandma, the house system had been tapped into three times, and he had to keep up with schoolwork on top of it all. 

He was exhausted, and all he wanted was to see you. He wanted to be in your arms, to hold you, to hear how your day was, just to be around you. But, he wasn’t. He wasn’t able to do any of that, instead he was in the lab, alone, trying not to fall asleep or pull his hair out.

Chase was the smartest person alive, he had abilities that people would kill for. He was relied on, because he is irreplaceable and a necessity to everyone around him. He is trustworthy, responsible, and far greater than he gives himself credit for.  

His family adores him, they do, even if sometimes they show it weirdly. Jabs with their words, or in Adams case their elbows, small comments, but they show the love. Chase knows they love him and that they care about him, they’re his family. Adam and Bree are his siblings that he grew up with, they love each other, even if they have a weird way of showing it. They are Davenports greatest creations and he reminds them of how important they are to him. Tasha is his mom, he finally got a mom and she cared for him like no one ever had. Then Leo, Leo is his brother who showed him, Adam, and Bree a world they never thought they’d be able to see. 

So many people care for Chase, but…None of them could ease him how you do.

You were just different. It’s as if when Chase felt the entire world crumbling around him, when all the lights got dark and he suddenly felt like he had no solutions, you held your hand out to pull him out of his drowning fears. You saw the ugliest parts of him, the most violent, the cruel, the broken parts of him that no one had tried to fix, and you still smiled at him. You still held his hand, even through the darkness, and you even said you were scared.

When you told him that, he almost blocked out every word after. The thought of you being scared of him, even a bit, crushed him. Chase almost pulled back, he almost told you to let him go, to let him disappear into that dark forest of unknown feelings but you wouldn’t.

He remembers so clearly when you told him:

“I’m honestly a little scared that you’ll go so deep into the code of your chip, looking for what’s happening to you…that you’ll forget you’re still human.”

Chase put his forehead on the table, groaning at the ringing in his ears. He needed to get all of this done. He would say the sooner he got everything done, the sooner he would get to see you, but everytime he tried, something new was thrown onto him.

It was all so frustrating that when he reached his newest project he just dropped his head to the table, hands gripping his hair shakily. He could feel tears stinging his eyes, and a bit of blood drew from how hard he was biting his lip to stifle any sobs that dared to pass his lips. 

He had never felt so overwhelmed before in his life, usually he was so used to the work. He was used to doing everything accordingly, but it all suddenly felt like too much. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong to feel like this, he didn’t know what he was doing so wrong to the point he couldn’t just finish all of the work.

As Chase thought of all this, your words constantly repeated in his head, just as they had the past few weeks. You were scared that he wouldn’t remember his own human feelings, because he was so used to being treated as if he was robotic.

Your concern just caused Chase to tear up even more, clutching at his chest. He could feel his heart beating, he could hear it through the ringing.

When did he forget that his heart was still beating in his chest? When did he forget that he was more than just the chip in his neck?

During his processing thoughts, he didn’t hear the sound of the lab door opening. He didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching him. He was usually so on guard, he had ultra-sensitive bionic hearing, how did he not hear someone coming up behind him?

A hand was placed on his back, startling him immediately. Chase quickly wiped his tears, turning to the person swiftly, ready to scold them for sneaking up on him. That was until he looked up and made eye contact with…

You.

You stood there, a frown painting your face as you analyzed Chase with your eyes. 

He stared, agape, lips parted, pupils shaking, face flushed as you observed him. He couldn’t tell if you were actually there or if he had been working so long to the point he had gone delirious.

You stepped forward, hands cupping his cheeks, thumbs swiping at the wet corners of his eyes. “You were crying?” You whispered, mostly to yourself, but Chase heard it, you knew he did.

The brown haired boy didn’t answer your question though, he left it ignored as if there was something more important than how he was feeling. To him, there was. That something was you.

The moment he processed that you were physically in front of him, he stood up as fast as possible, his head feeling as if it were spinning for a moment. He ignored the feeling and wrapped his arm around you, placing his nose into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly, “You’re here.” He mumbled, taking a deep breath. “You’re actually here.”

You nodded against him, gently petting his hair as you wrapped your own arms around him. “I am…” You trailed off, frown still on your face, “Is everything okay?”

Chase thought for a moment, leaving the two of you in silence, was everything okay? His face felt like it was burning and he wasn’t used to it, his eyes felt sore, his throat was a bit scratchy, and he still felt a bit dizzy.

But…

His heartbeat slowed down, his hands weren’t shaking, his breathing was regulated, his mind finally felt clear, and…You were there.

Chase smiled against your shoulder, nodding and holding you a bit tighter, “I missed you.” He told you, pulling back to see your face.

You blinked at him, a bit confused, tilting your head a bit. “Okay… how long have you been in this lab?” You asked him, now noticing how pale he looked, looking around and seeing the papers scattered around. You squeezed his arms a bit, “You need sunlight.” You stated, chuckling a bit, pulling him by his hand to the doors of the lab.

“I still have work-”

“Chase, the work can wait.” You told him seriously, shaking your head. “You are human.” You reminded him, flicking his forehead lightly, “You need proper food, sunlight, social interaction, and more importantly,” You paused, cupping his face, kissing the spot you flicked, “you need a break.”

His breath staggered in his throat a bit, but he found himself once again. Chase smiled at you, his eyes lighting up, “Okay, I’ll take a break.” He told you, placing his hands over your own.

“Thank you.”

He hummed, enjoying the contact, closing his eyes slightly to just stay in that moment with you. Chase opened his eyes once again, slowly to see you looking back at him, concern in your eyes. He smiled again, glad to be able to smile again, “I missed you, so much.”

“I missed you too.”

It had been seven minutes and twenty-six seconds since Chase Davenport was finally able to see you again, and he wasn’t going to let that time stop anytime soon.

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Last Night’s Mistake - Simon "Ghost" Riley

the morning after not proofread nothing nsfw, angsty, with a little comfort at the end female reader

A slight headache is all that remains from last night - confused, tired, achy, you slowly wake up. One by one, little sensations come to your attention. Your head hurts, your body feels warm, your hips still feel a little bit sore from where the uncomfortable skirt that you wore last night dug in. And you’re in bed, in a room, shady and quiet… with an empty space on the other side of the bed.

"Shit…" you groan, your voice a little sore from the night before. This isn’t your bed.

The floor is cool under your feet as you shakily stand up - a soreness growing in your legs. In the bedroom mirror, you inspect yourself. Though the girl staring back at you is the same girl you were last night, her hair is messed up and her face is a little flushed, her makeup having almost entirely worn off except for a hint of sparkle on her eyelids. Not to mention, she’s in nothing but her panties.

Whoever’s room this is, their wardrobe is pretty bare, the only civilian clothes being a few different t-shirts and vests, two dark-coloured hoodies, a pair of sweatpants, a pair of jeans, and some smart clothes for formal occasions. Not the cutest selection, but it would do, so you grabbed the black Led Zeppelin t-shirt and pulled it on.

Sat on his bed, you fixed your hair in the mirror as you tried to remember who he was. Little memories came back from the night before, unclear, like a half-forgotten dream. Drinks. A silver ring on his finger - not a wedding ring, you noted. You were in the car, with his rough hand on your thigh, playing with the hem of that god-awful skirt. Doors clicking, sheets ruffling, short blonde hair… oh my God, you’d fucked Simon Riley.

"Shit," you curse your idiocy, for the second time this morning.

You’ve wanted Simon, you’ve always wanted Simon, but he’s kind of a dick and not the kind of person you’d seriously want to be with. Plus, he’s a little bit older than you and not the kind of man who has girlfriends. He barely even has friends.

Finding a spare toothbrush in his bathroom, you brush your teeth, and clean yourself up with some water and his men’s face cream for lack of a moisturiser, not being able to completely remove the sparkle and shadow of eyeliner from around your eyes. But you know you can’t distract yourself for too long from facing last night’s mistake. Simon.

He’s sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea, in a pair of those plaid pyjama bottoms and a black tshirt that you’re pretty sure is exactly the same as three others you just saw in his wardrobe. He doesn’t make any effort to acknowledge you, focused on some work on his laptop. Maybe the same pit of regret over last night is sitting inside his stomach, maybe he doesn’t want to acknowledge you for fear that things won’t work out - after all, a regrettable one night stand is much more bearable than a rejection. But maybe he just doesn’t care, and you figure that’s more likely.

"Morning," you speak softly, a little taken aback by his lack of interest. It just feels so empty, and part of you is just begging him to show some emotion and put an end to this weird, uncomfortable limbo.

Of course, he doesn’t do that. He looks up at you nonchalantly, and nods, as if to say "morning. see you."

Something about that reaction hurts - even if he sees this as something mutually regrettable, the way that he dismisses your existence feels the the ultimate rejection. It’s not the sex, you figure, the sex was great. At least, that’s what the shaky aching of your legs and the marking on your neck is telling you. Maybe it was just you. And in those few seconds that you stare at each other blankly, not knowing what to add to fill the silence, all the exhaustion from last night and the discomfort of this morning hits you at once and all you want to do is cry.

"I should go," your voice falters a little, ashamed, as you head back into his bedroom to fetch the stuff you’d thrown on the floor beside his bed just last night. For a moment, before closing the door behind you, you wait for any sign of a reaction from the man on the sofa. Nothing. You close the door just as your breath starts to get shaky.

For some unclear reason, you can’t seem to get going right away. So you sit on his bed, in his shirt, staring down at the terrible skirt and the shirt you’d worn with it, thrown over your favourite bag and the same shoes you wear every time you go out because you only own two pairs of shoes. You’re so ridiculous, all teary over Simon - you knew this would happen, you knew a man like that would only use you and then make you cry. You curse him, the alcohol, the terrible skirt… but mostly, yourself. He was just a crush, something stupid and unobtainable, something no girl in her right mind would actually go near. Yet here you were.

Shivering from his weirdly cold house, you slowly pull off his tshirt, the fabric brushing against your bare back as it comes off.

"You can keep the shirt, love," a gruff voice says, "looks better on you than it does in me." A chuckle comes from behind you as you jump at the sudden intrusion, and there he is, in all his… whatever he is. Simon. He’s behind you, on the bed, with an large hand reaching out to play with the end of your hair.

"Oh…" he sighs as one of your little teardrops falls on his wrist, "you alright?"

Little teardrops keep falling, and your best efforts to keep it together are starting to fall through. It feels silly, but all the exhaustion and the rejection is too much for you, despite your best efforts to deny it.

"M’fine…" you mumble, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

"You’re not fine, you’re crying," he chuckles softly, with a hint of empathy behind the gruff tone of his voice. Something about that, about him, hurts your heart as you let out a shaky sob.

Instinctively, his strong arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in to his chest. His hands are surprisingly warm, and they cup your puffy cheeks with tender care, a rough thumb wiping away your pretty tears.

"M’sorry, darling…" he holds your face close to his, and gently leans in for a kiss. You don’t have any energy in you to resist, but you don’t really want to. Si doesn’t feel like a mistake anymore. He feels like comfort.

hope you enjoyed! that was a long one for me :3

[furuu]

Hii I really love your works and.. Do you mind if I request for an angsty fic or drabble? Where reader gets sick and spends her last moments with sukuna as she realised how much sukuna has her in his life already and she's afraid to leave him. Thank youu love youu❤️❤️

𐔌 . ⋮ The fever had been relentless, slowly sapping the strength from your body until even the simplest movements felt like a battle. You lay weakly on the bed, breaths shallow and uneven, each one more labored than the last. The room was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fire in the corner, but your mind was loud—filled with a swirl of thoughts, fear, and regret.

And then, there was Sukuna.

He stood at the edge of the room, his usual towering presence diminished by the way he looked at you. His arms were crossed, his face stern, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of something softer, something vulnerable, that he rarely allowed to surface. He’d been there the whole time, keeping his distance at first, but slowly, inevitably, he had moved closer.

You turned your head, weakly shifting your gaze to him. “Sukuna…”

He didn’t respond immediately, his lower eyes locking onto you while his upper ones stared ahead, as if pretending to be unbothered by the tremble in your voice. You could see it though—the tension in his shoulders, the way his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He was listening.

“I don’t… I don’t want to leave you,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the reality of your situation crashed over you. Tears blurred your vision, and you forced yourself to keep looking at him, desperate to hold onto the one thing you had left.

He grunted softly, as if trying to brush off your words, but there was a tightness in his jaw that betrayed him. Sukuna, the King of Curses, the one who prided himself on his strength and indifference, was standing at the edge of a cliff he couldn’t control.

“You’ve always been so distant,” you murmured, your voice growing weaker. “But you’ve always been there. Even when I didn’t realize it… I see it now.”

Sukuna’s expression flickered, the cold mask slipping for just a moment. He took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as if trying to force himself to stay composed, but the weight of your words was too much. You were slipping away, and he knew it.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, tears spilling over as your body shook with the effort of speaking. “I’m scared of leaving you. Of what… what will happen when I’m gone.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, but it wasn’t the usual sound of irritation or anger. This was different—deeper, almost pained. Sukuna moved closer, finally closing the distance between you as he knelt by your bedside, his massive form towering over you, yet the vulnerability in his posture made him seem smaller.

He reached out, his hand hovering over you for a moment before his fingers brushed against your skin. The touch was uncharacteristically gentle, as if he was afraid of breaking you. His lower eyes locked onto yours now, no longer trying to hide the storm of emotions he was battling within.

“You won’t leave,” he growled, but there was a tremor in his voice, a desperation that made your heart ache. “You don’t get to leave.”

You smiled weakly, reaching up with what little strength you had left to place your hand over his. His skin was warm, and for a brief moment, you felt safe—like maybe, just maybe, you could fight this. But the sickness had taken too much, and you could feel the end creeping closer.

“I… I don’t want to,” you whispered, tears streaking your face. “But I don’t know if I can stay…”

Sukuna’s grip on your hand tightened, his claws pressing into your skin, but not enough to hurt. His breathing was ragged, his body tense, and for the first time, you saw real fear in his eyes. Not fear for himself, but fear of losing you.

“I can’t—” His voice broke, and he clenched his jaw, biting back whatever else he was going to say. For Sukuna, who had lived for centuries, who had destroyed and conquered without hesitation, the thought of losing you was something he didn’t know how to face.

You closed your eyes for a moment, the exhaustion pulling at you, but you forced yourself to speak one last time. “Sukuna… promise me you’ll be okay. Even if I’m not here…”

His silence was deafening. He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Because the truth was, he didn’t know if he would be okay. Not without you.

Instead of responding, Sukuna pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around you as if to keep you anchored to this world. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin, and for once, the King of Curses allowed himself to show his vulnerability. His hold was tight, almost possessive, as if by sheer force alone he could keep you with him.

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart—an unexpected comfort in your final moments. And as the world began to fade, you found peace in knowing that, despite everything, you had found a place in Sukuna’s heart.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

Sukuna’s arms tightened around you, his body trembling with the weight of emotions he didn’t know how to express. And as the darkness finally took you, he held you close, refusing to let go, even as his world crumbled around him .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

[lcriedlastnight]

Can you do a fluffy and angsty fic for Lando after Austria, his girl comforting him. I'm surprised there aren't more after what happened under the tags but the only ones that were there are smut, which I don't really want to read I want fluff and angst.

sorry it took me so long to respond anon! i've been swamped.

tw: fem! reader, swears, AUSTRIA!!!!, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1k

you watch as lando trailed after max and you knew one of two things was inevitable. either lando was going to overtake max and finally take the lead after what seemed like forever, or the two boys were going to crash into each other.

you watch with one eye open every time lando tries to overtake max. you makes your body tense up as you fear that this will be the time their tires touch. you try to stay hopeful but you know that this will not end well, neither drivers willing to give up their positions and both trying to fight for that first place position.

it happens so quickly, it was a blink and you'll miss it incident. all you see is lando's mclaren try another move on max then something flying in the air. you can hear shouts from the mclaren team around you but you were still confused, you were not sure what exactly was happening. you watch as max slows down and lando finally overtakes him. you hear that he has received a five second penalty. you see a flash of a red bull fly past in the pit lane and then suddenly, lando's own car is stopped, practically half of its back wheel missing. it is then that it finally registers. they had contact and it had caused lando to retire from the race (you later found out it was his own decision).

you had not been with lando long enough to know what to do in this kind of situation. you just stay where you are for ten minutes until maybe the last few laps of the race when you feel lando's presence looming around you.

he does not even have to ask you to follow him as he heads towards his drivers room, head bowed down, not even looking where he was going. the boy was lucky he did not walk into any walls. if it had been any other situation you would have laughed at his carelessness but right now you had no clue how to act.

once you were both in the privacy of his room, lando slumps down on the little couch headfirst. you linger at the door, your hands longing to soothe him and your mind crying out to tell him it will all be alright.

"are you alright?" you question. it comes off timid as much as you tried to seem confident. you knew it was a silly question. you knew he was not fine but you just felt like you had to ask. lando sighs into one of the throw pillows at the question. for some reason this is what spurs you to spring into action. you take the few steps over to join him on the couch and sit as the space next to his feet.

"lando, look at me." you tell him, you voice much more firm and stable than before. lando does as you ask and turns himself so he is facing you and looks at you so sadly he might as well have just ripped out your heart out and jumped on it right there and then.

"that was all max's fault. you did nothing wrong. you tried an overtake, you wouldn't be a racer if you just sat back and let max lead the whole race. you're the only person on the grid who is consistently challenging max every weekend, that's something to be proud of.” you grab his hand gently and let your thumb rub it's own path along the skin of wrist.

"i'm shit. i've had one win and now i can't seem to do it again and when i finally get the chance to, like today, max just fucks me up because he would rather dnf than finish second! and he didn't even retire the fucking car he actually kept on racing which makes me look even worse!" by the end of his rant his voice was louder and you could see the tears of frustration in his eyes.

you swiftly pull him up by his hand to be face to face with you. you hold eye contact with him, letting him know how much you meant what you were going to say.

"you are not shit, lando. you've had one win and now you're hungry for more, of course it's gonna hurt a little when you come second again but listen to me. every single race you are getting closer and closer to max. i know you want it to be now but just because it isn't doesn't mean you're shit. it just means that max knows you are more of a threat than before miami and he can't just saunter along like he did at the start of the season. you're doing so well, please don't doubt yourself."

lando listens through your entire rant without trying to interrupt once and once you are finished talking he drops his head into your lap. "i really, really thought i was gonna get it this time. i really wanted it." he mumbles into your thigh. you know it is killing him and you cannot stand it. you know the only thing you can do to help him though, is to listen to him and give him the most comfort you can manage.

you sigh, hand coming to run through his sweaty, messy curls. "i know, baby. it's coming and it will be so fucking great when it does. i'll be here waiting for you and then we can celebrate like it's first, huh? that sound good?"

you can feel the small smile lando manages on your leg as he nods against it.

you stay like that for what seems like ages but you know it cannot be that long because before lando can even ask the time there is a knock on his door, alerting him that he had press to do in two minutes. he sighs and hauls himself from his comfortable position.

"you're so strong lan, be strong." you tell him with a quick kiss to his lips. lando knows it is a good luck kiss. lando also knows that you know how much he hates doing any kind of press or media when he was feeling like this.

"wish you could come with me." lando's frown is so deep it sort of looks like a half pout half frown. you smile at his cuteness.

"when you come back we can go back to the hotel, order in and watch that adam sandler film you like."

this seems to perk the boy up significantly as he give you a peck on the forehead before rushing out to get his media done and dusted. a night in with you sounded like heaven to him right now. he did not want to me reminded of the events of the day's race but he would put up with it for the end result. you and him cuddled up, together. it is all he ever wants.

[simplygojo]

hiiii. any chance I could request something angsty with Megumi, nothing specific in mind...I just love that angsty boy, lol.

Silent Moments

Authors Note: Your wish is my command my friendly anon! I hope this was something along the lines of what you were looking for :)

Pairing: AgedUp/Megumi Fushiguro x f/reader

Word Count : 1.3K

Warnings : light seggusal tension, and of course some angst

Don't forget my loves, my requests are always open!

Part II

You and Megumi had known each other for a while, long enough that you thought you understood him—the quiet, stoic sorcerer who kept his distance from almost everyone. But over the last few months, something between you had started to shift. It wasn’t anything obvious, just little things. How he would walk you home more often, or how his eyes lingered on you a bit longer when he thought you weren’t looking.

It was never something you talked about. Megumi wasn’t one to express his feelings openly, and to be honest, neither were you. But tonight, something felt different.

The day had been long and exhausting, the two of you barely making it through a mission that could’ve gone south fast. The curse you faced wasn’t like anything you’d seen before—quick, vicious, and far more dangerous than you anticipated. By the time you exorcised it, Megumi had been on edge, more protective than usual, though he hadn’t said much after the fight.

Now, walking side by side through the quiet streets, that tension lingers in the air between you.

He hasn’t said a word since you left the training grounds. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but you can feel something brewing under the surface. You steal a glance at him—his dark hair slightly disheveled from the earlier battle, his sharp blue eyes focused ahead, but distant, as if he’s caught up in his own thoughts.

You sigh softly, trying to break the quiet. “You know, you don’t always have to walk me home. I can handle it.”

Megumi’s gaze flickers to you briefly, his expression unreadable. “It’s not a big deal.”

You roll your eyes. That’s what he always said, brushing off his concern like it didn’t matter. But you knew better. He cared—he just didn’t know how to show it.

The two of you continue walking until you reach your apartment building. You stop at the gate, turning to face him. The moonlight casts a soft glow over his face, highlighting the tension in his features. You hadn’t expected him to look so worn out, so troubled.

“Well, this is me,” you say, offering a small, awkward smile.

Megumi nods, but he doesn’t move. His hands are still stuffed in his pockets, his body tense as if he’s fighting something inside. You can feel it now—the weight of all the things left unsaid between you. The unspoken feelings that have been building for months.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you comment, searching his face for some kind of answer.

Megumi’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you think he’s going to brush it off like he always does. But instead, his gaze hardens, his voice lowering. “You were reckless today.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden sharpness in his tone. “Reckless? I had the curse under control, Megumi.”

“No, you didn’t.” His voice is firm, more serious than usual. “You almost got yourself killed.”

You take a step back, thrown off by the intensity in his eyes. Megumi had always been protective, but this was different. He wasn’t just upset—he was scared.

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” you admit, feeling your chest tighten.

Megumi takes a step closer, his voice lowering even further, as if he’s afraid to let you hear the fear in his words. “You can’t keep doing that, y/n. You can’t keep throwing yourself into danger like that. What if I wasn’t there?”

There it is—his fear, his worry, laid bare in front of you. You’ve always known Megumi was cautious, but seeing him like this, so raw and unguarded, sends a jolt through your heart.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” you say softly, taking a tentative step toward him.

He shakes his head, frustration clear in the furrow of his brow. “It’s not just about worrying me. It’s…” His voice trails off, as if he’s struggling to find the right words. When he looks at you again, his eyes are filled with something deeper—something that makes your heart race. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

His words hang in the air between you, heavy and filled with emotion. For a moment, you can’t breathe. You’ve always known Megumi cared about you, but hearing him say it like this, in a way that feels so personal, leaves you speechless.

You take another step forward, closing the gap between you. You don’t think about it—you just act, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. It’s a small, impulsive gesture, but the way Megumi freezes tells you it’s caught him completely off guard.

You pull back quickly, your heart racing. “I’m sorry,” you start to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean—”

But before you can finish, Megumi’s hand gently wraps around your wrist. His grip isn’t harsh or forceful, but soft—almost tentative. There’s a warmth in his touch that sends a shiver through you, and when you look up, you see something vulnerable in his eyes.

His grip tightens just slightly, not in anger, but in something that feels like longing—a quiet desperation, like he’s afraid of what might happen if he lets you go. It’s not the kind of touch that holds you back, but the kind that says I don’t want to lose you.

You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he’s fighting with himself, torn between what he feels and what he thinks is right. And then, slowly, his face inches closer to yours. His breath is warm against your skin, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

But then, he stops. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as if he’s trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. His hand is still holding your wrist, but now it feels like he’s holding on for dear life, like he’s terrified of what he could lose.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be like this,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Not when I’m angry… not like this.”

His words send a wave of warmth and sadness through you. There’s a rawness to his confession that makes your heart ache, the quiet vulnerability of a boy who has always been afraid to let someone in.

You swallow hard, your throat tight with emotion. “Megumi…”

He opens his eyes, and the intensity in his gaze makes your breath catch in your throat. “You mean more to me than that.”

Your heart skips a beat, the weight of his words sinking in. Megumi Fushiguro—stoic, closed-off, always so careful with his feelings—just laid his heart bare in front of you.

And in that moment, you realize something: he’s not afraid of how much he cares about you. He’s afraid of losing you.

You don’t know what to say. The words get caught in your throat, and all you can do is nod, your eyes shining with unshed tears.

Megumi’s grip on your wrist loosens slightly, though his fingers linger against your skin, like he’s not ready to let go completely. His touch is still warm, gentle, filled with a quiet tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“I should go,” he says softly, though his eyes stay on you, as if he’s waiting for you to say something—anything to make him stay.

You nod again, even though part of you doesn’t want him to leave. “Goodnight, Megumi.”

He hesitates for just a second longer, his gaze lingering on you, filled with all the things he hasn’t said yet. And then, finally, he takes a step back. “Goodnight, y/n.”

As you watch him walk away, disappearing into the shadows of the quiet street, you feel a strange mix of emotions—relief, sadness, longing. Something between you has shifted, and though you’re not sure where it’s headed, you know one thing for certain.

Whatever this is between you and Megumi, it’s real. And it’s only just beginning.

[goingmerryfics]

Arguments w/ Shanks, Buggy, & Mihawk

Content: Gender Neutral reader, no NSFW. Maybe some slightly angsty stuff? Not really though.

Shanks

Arguing with him is either exhausting or it’s pointless, there’s never an in-between

Shanks doesn’t really take most arguments seriously because they’re either started by something extremely unimportant or he’s already made his decision and he’s not going to back down on his opinion

Pointless, because he’s not going to change his mind and he’s laughing at you while you’re trying to talk to him

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

Yup. Pointless. It’ll just make you more angry and him more entertained

The exhausting arguments are when he’s actually serious- and while he’s not mad at you, he’s mad that you can’t see his reasonings for doing what he’s doing

Especially when it comes to keeping you safe

Shanks won’t back down and it’s impossible to change his mind while he’s this pissed off, so it’s always best to just separate and come back later to talk it out when you’re both calm

While you do what you need to do in order to relax, Shanks festers in his anger and reflects on the things that were said between the two of you. His crewmates try to cheer him up- they offer him booze, they crack jokes, but he’s not in the mood for either and everyone is concerned

Truthfully, he’s worried. While he’s still not willing to change his mind, he doesn’t want to lose the relationship you two have worked so hard to build and maintain

He gets up out of his seat 3 times to pace around, mind racing back and forth on if he should go talk to you, and then convincing himself that it’s best to wait for you to emerge first so he knows you’re ready to talk

But he grows tired of waiting, and does actually end up coming to your shared room to resolve the issue

You’re still steaming just a bit. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you don’t look up when he enters. You know it’s him, because a few others on his crew have already come to check on you, and you’d asked them politely to leave you be. But you don’t protest when he comes to sit beside you

He doesn’t touch you

It’s painfully silent for a while

Then he finally speaks up and breaks the tension

“I’m sorry. That got a little more heated than I wanted it to.”

You peek up at him just a bit. He notices how red your face is, and a strike of fear shoots through him at the thought of possibly having made you cry and then left you on your own for hours

He stretches out his hand, offering it to you to hold, and you shift in your position to take it

He goes into a rant on how much you mean to him and how he’s only doing what he has to do to keep you and the rest of the crew safe

“Because I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

You do

You also know that no matter how many times you two get upset with each other, you’ll always find your way back into his arms

Buggy

Arguing with him would come often, but the content of the arguments is what matters here

Only for the reason that Buggy is adamant about being correct in every situation, even when he is not and knows it

Everyone knows it’s best to just simply let him believe his delusions and let the natural consequences come through

But this guy seriously has weirdly good luck, and somehow all his delusions seem to come true for him in one way or another

Half of the time it’s just funny watching him be completely wrong about a subject, other times it’s a little infuriating

Arguments don’t last long between the two of you, though

Buggy craves attention, and attention from his favorite person is a must. It’s basically a necessity of life

Food, water, shelter, you. Not in that order, though

He realizes too late through his incessant rambling and gloating that he’s said something that hurt your feelings and immediately starts to backpedal

“Wait, wait, wait! That’s not what I meant! What I meant to say was-”

He’s red in the face, almost so much so as his nose

He hates to admit it, but you look really good glaring down at him like that as he tries to save his own skin

He clams up, sweating. Unsure of himself. Not sure what he was even saying a second ago

As much as you need time alone to chill out, he can’t seem to leave you be. It’s scary for him, seeing your usually smiling face so serious

He takes a seat outside of your room, and then breaks into pieces no, literally while he waits for you to emerge again

It takes you a few hours, but he’s there the whole time. His feet are pacing around, his head is whining, cheek on the floor. His hands are tapping and picking at the dirt in the wood, but every part of him lights up when he sees you again

“Aha! I see you finally caved. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

You pause, and then move to go back inside before he yelps and his hands grab at your ankles. His parts come back together again, using the rest of his body to hold you in place

“Wait! I’m sorry! Please don’t go back!”

He shouts it all in a rush. He’s crying, and there’s snot running down his nose

He looks like a damn mess

It kind of makes you laugh at how desperate he is for you

he pouts up at you and you cave

He basically crawls up your body to hug you. You hug him back, petting his hair and waiting for him to relax, sitting right there in the doorway of your room. People pause as they pass, but a sharp look from you stops them from staying for very long

Mihawk

If Mihawk is actually worked up enough to argue with you, there’s a good reason for it

Usually he makes his point and that’s that. No other words exchanged, nothing more than a slight glance towards you

Mihawk is an introvert, and he gets exhausted from others very easily. He’s not trying to be rude or dismissive towards you when he does this, but that is how it comes off sometimes

He’ll turn his attention back to his book because after he’s said what he wanted to, he figures everything is fine. He understands his logic, why wouldn’t you?

But you, like a lot of people that aren’t Mihawk, are more emotional than he is

Your silence isn’t acceptance, it’s hurt

Only when you get up to leave the room does the thought cross his mind that maybe what he’d said didn’t come off correctly, and you might have just been insulted. But he figures you would come tell him if that were the case, so all is well and he returns to his book

This could go forever, really. Until he notices that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and then he would stop whatever he was doing- even if he were in another room at the time of realization -and find you to clear things up right away

“Darling, we need to talk right away.”

Straight to the point. He doesn’t really ask you if you want to talk, because he knows if he doesn’t at least make an attempt at this it will haunt him like Perona’s ghosts all night

The thing about Mihawk that not many people know is that he’s got this cool, collected, silent aura about him because he simply does not have the energy to play nice with everyone

So when he’s just arrived home from a Warlord meeting, or somewhere that he was obligated to be present for, all he wants is time to himself to recharge

Having a relationship and balancing this need was something he was still learning

But he loves you so much and the thought of upsetting you over a misunderstanding gnawed at him and gave him massive amounts of anxiety and uncomfortability

He’s not this untouchable guy that everyone thinks he is. You’ve seen this; he laughs and cries like everyone else does

And you understand him. He couldn’t ask for someone better than you are

If you’re willing to, he’ll take your hands and kiss your knuckles.

“I apologize for my behavior. I should have given my words a second thought before I spoke them out loud. What can I do to make this up to you?”

It’s an easy thing to answer- it’s all you wanted since he’d returned, why you kept invading his space before he was ready to emerge and what lead up to the situation in the first place

You tell him you want him. His attention, to be wrapped in his arms. You just want to spend time with him, even if that’s in silence

He can work with that

He presses a kiss to your forehead and makes you promise that you’ll tell him if he ever says or does anything to upset you again. He wants to communicate, not lose out on precious time with you over something small

He goes above and beyond, though. He makes up a very romantic candlelit dinner that night for the both of you to share and even if it’s a very quiet dinner, (minus the music playing softly in the background) it’s perfect

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 4)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: so much time has passed since you last saw each other. will old feelings come up again once you two find each other again?

warnings: HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, this is so against canon its insane, NSFW (we did it guys we're finally here), switch!reader and switch!miguel, blood mention, fang and claws play, p in v unprotected, cumplay, angsty (i couldnt help it), it goes, angst, smut, and then angsty fluff at the end youre welcome

word count: 3.2k

notes: for some reason, it didn't let me tag as many people who wanted to be on the taglist, so if i didn't end up tagging you for the final part, sorry idk what went wrong

also forgive me i was listening to boygenius while writing the parts leading up to the smut so it might get a little angsty there (i cant help it) (miguel and y/n are so bite the hand and cool about it core)

but then i balanced it out by listening to frank ocean (pyramids specifically) while writing the smut so you're welcome

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

Three years had passed. Three years since you finally found Miles, defeated The Spot, and caused the collapse of the Spider Society. Everyone had gone back to their separate dimensions, but were able to still visit each other with their still working portal watches. Miles and Gwen specifically were very happy. Peter B. went back home to live with MJ and Mayday, sending you frequent pictures of Mayday to keep you updates. You were different. You didn’t return to your home world. You didn’t necessarily have anyone to return to per se. Instead, you decided to hop between dimensions, seeing what crime there was to fight in cities that didn’t have anyone to protect it. It was enough to keep you occupied, and as long as your watch still worked, you had the option to stop if you wanted to. Life was nice. You finally had found peace.

But something felt off. Something thudding in the back of your head. Because even though you had been at peace for three years, it had also been three years since you saw him. You had seen him during the final showdown between all of Spider Society, but your team had managed to keep you two apart, due to fear for your safety. After the fight was over, you two had made eye contact with each other a couple of times, but never approached each other. If you were being honest, you were still scared of him at that point, even seeing him tied up there on the floor waiting for someone to deal with him. 

It took a while for your gashes to heal, the ones on your back taking much longer to turn into scars than the ones on your tricep and thigh. The marks on your body were frequent reminders of him and the damage he’s caused to your life. Part of you hated him for it. But most of you just missed him. Unlike Jess, who sent you pictures of her baby every now and then, neither of you had reached out to the other. It was crazy how five years of shared history can be thrown to the ground so quickly.

Right now, you were sitting on the railing of your apartment balcony. For the past month or so, you decided to park it in Earth-3819. There wasn’t much crime going on there, so it was a nice place to stop when you needed a break. Your feet dangled off the edge of the railing, as you looked out to see the sunset on the skyline. The wind blew faintly at your face, causing strands of hair to fall out of your high bun. You had been thinking more about him recently, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were. 

Almost as if you manifested it, you heard the sliding glass door from your bedroom slide open. Startled, you quickly turned around, ready just in case it was an attacker.

It was much worse than an attacker. 

You mouth laid agape as his massive shadow covered your smaller body. Feelings that laid dormant for the past three years suddenly erupting in your stomach. You looked up to the roof of your building as a signal to meet you up there, as you attached a web to the top and swung up there.

Once you were both at the top, you faced your back to him to take time to catch your breath. Your emotions were all over the place right now. “You’re really hard to find, you know,” he said trying to break the silence. You wanted to throw up. As much as you hoped this moment would come, you never realized how unprepared you would be if it ever did. You couldn’t bare to look at him right now, knowing you would lose control of yourself if you did. “You look…good.” How would he know, he only saw your face for a second before you bolted off. You both stood there, the wind growing louder and louder with each second you both stayed silent. 

All of your senses came to a freeze once you felt his hand place itself on your shoulder, causing a flinch from you. “I wanted to find you again, mi vida,” he said in that rich, deep, smooth tone of his that drives you crazy. You could tell he was getting closer when you felt the hairs on your neck stand up from him breathing on them. “I missed you, and I was hoping we could pick up where we left off,” he said into the crook of your neck and began to plant kisses there. You broke free from his grasp by the third kiss he left. “No no no no no, no we can’t. It’s not that simple Miguel,” you said, pinching your bridge and sighing. There's no way he could've thought it would be this easy. He's not this stupid….is he?

“Listen amor, I’m sorry for everything that happened. But the past is the past.” He walked closer to you. “And I want my future with you.” He was up against you again. This time instead of your shoulder, he dragged his finger up and down your back in an almost hypnotic motion. God, you wanted him so bad, you wanted it to be this simple. That he can just apologize and everything could be okay. But you were reminded it couldn't be that way once his finger hit a pressure point in your scar. You swatted your hands in the air and walked away from him again. “No Miguel, that's not how this works. You can just do the things you've done to me and just say sorry and expect it to fix everything. You're not a child.” 

Once you turned around to face him, you saw him standing there like a lost puppy. You just wish he could see what you were talking about. “Don't act like you didn't do horrible things then too. I saw what you did to Jess.” “Don't turn this onto me Miguel. This is about you.” You walked up to him and pressed your finger into his chest. “This is about you, and the horrible things you've done to me! I can't even take a shower anymore without looking at myself in the mirror and seeing your damage!” You lifted up your shirt sleeve. “You did this! This was all you!” Miguel looks down at you with sympathetic eyes as your eyes began to well up. 

“And you can’t just barge in on this life I’ve made for myself and ask for me back because I won't go with you!” You were fully crying at this point, desperately trying to get your words out between sobs and lightly punching at Miguel's chest while he just stared at you. “Because I hate you Miguel! I hate you, okay!” You couldn't manage to talk anymore, overcome with the emotions he caused you to feel. You rested your head on his chest as you continued to sob. He wrapped his arms around you, causing you to do the same to him immediately. You sat there crying into his arms for about a minute, until he lifted up your chin with his finger.

“I’m so sorry I did this to you mi princesa. I’m so sorry. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Overtaken by emotion, you grab his face and crash your lips into his. Almost instinctively, his hands find a home onto your hips. You pull away for a second. “Just stop talking already,” you say breathlessly. He rushes to connect the two of your lips again, already going as far as to slip his tongue in between your lips. He’s so passionate about everything he does. His hands hold a tight grip on your body as his tongue explores your mouth. Almost like he’s hungry for you. No, not hungry. Starving. Famished. Three years apart was too much for him to stand without you by his side or in his bed. He needed you desperately. Like his life depended on if he was going to be able to fuck you into your bed tonight or not. 

He let out moans as your hands ran through and tugged on his hair. But as soon as his claws came out and dug into your hips, you pulled your mouth off of his, a string of saliva still connecting you two. “No claws Miguel. Bring them out again, and its over okay.” You still weren’t mentally over his attack against you. He nods. “Of course, baby.” With that said, you let go of him to walk over to the edge of the building. Once your at the edge, you signal him over. He follows, almost as if he’s under some spell. You attach one of your webs to your balcony railing below and use it as a guide to fall down to it. You land on your balcony, Miguel following close behind as you open the sliding door to your bedroom.

After you close the door and blinds, you turn to find Miguel almost hovering over you. He looked like some kind of lost dog the way he kept following you around, begging for more of you. You gently kiss him and guide him over to your bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed and begins to pull your hoodie off your head as you help him take off his suit. Once your sweatpants are off as well, you gently push him onto his back on your bed. Goosebumps form all over your body, partially from exposure to the cold air in your room, and partially from seeing him like this underneath you again. Finally, you take his already hard cock, and slide it into your hole, causing a rough groan out of him as you begin to rock on his hips.

You take things nice and slow while you’re in control, knowing the moment you get sloppy he’ll start to take over for you. You kissed down his neck and collarbone as you rode him, with him gripping hard at your back and your hips. “Nng, m-missed you s-so much amor,” he groaned out. “Tan hermosa.” You begin to speed your thrusting, tugging at his hair to get strained noises out of him. His hands make their way up to your back, digging into your skin. But your quick to rip his hands out of your back and pin them above his head once his talons come out again, into your back this time. You also take your lips off of his and stop your thrusting.

Miguel searched your face for some kind of explanation to the sudden stop, to find you panting and nearly frozen still. You’re taken back to that fight, a result from his claws finding a way into your scars. You’re pulled back to reality by Miguel’s voice. “Amor, que paso?” he asks with concern. You quickly wipe the sweat off your face and look into his beautiful crimson eyes. You wanted to forget the pain he caused you all those years ago, but unfortunately you couldn’t. But, you were willing to forgive him though. “Nothing Miggy,” you say gently, pressing a soft kiss onto his lips. He tries to move his hands back onto you, but finds his hands still trapped to the headboard. He looks at you confused. “What did I say about the claws, Miguel.” 

“Ay, baby you know its hard for me to control them around you,” he says, slightly annoyed, driven by the need to touch you again. “Well you’re going to need to try to okay? For now though, you’re going to stay like this.” His face drops, and he makes a sound almost like a whine. “Ay coño, lo siento péro you don’t need to punish me.” You felt powerful hearing him whine and beg like this. You were denying a starving man of his woman, his source of energy. 

Arms squirmed in your hand, as you began to rock on top of him again. You made sure to not kiss him either, moving away whenever he would try to place his mouth onto yours. He whined as you picked up your speed, desperate to feel you again. “P-please, let me go cariño.” You moved your mouth down and whispered in his ear, running your finger up and down his stomach, causing him to melt under you and whimper like a madman. “Not just yet,” you whispered seductively, sending extra chills down his spine and into his stomach when you bit into his ear lobe.

Overcome with your own urge to feel him, you accidentally let go of his hands and moved yours to grab hold of each of his pecs as you planted kisses over his sternum. Suddenly, you’re overswept as Miguel is freed and takes control over the situation. “I love you amor, but you have to let me touch your,” he says in that beautiful, rich tone of his before he goes at his own pace: slamming himself into you. 

He goes much faster than you did, and you almost come there on the spot as he nearly breaks your bed with his ferocity. You grip onto his enormous triceps for leverage as you let out a series of incoherent moans. “You like that, huh?” he pants out. You shove your lips onto his to get him to stop talking. “I-if you’re gonna do this, n-ngh, you’re gonna have to s-hh-ut up,” you manage to get out in between your almost inhumane sounds. He nods and shoves his tongue into your mouth, exploring the insides of your cheeks while his tip slams into your walls, causing that white heat to begin to build up in your stomach.

His hands swarm across your body, making up for lost time before, and eventually land on your breasts as he begins to palm at them. Just as you thought he couldn’t arouse you any more than he already has, he moves his mouth along your jawline, down to your neck, and begins to mark it with kisses and slight sucking. “I-I missed you too, Miggy.” 

That nickname you had for him drove him crazy. So crazy in fact, his next move was to drive his fangs into your neck, making sure to not let his poison seep into your neck. He presses his lips and sucks on the skin on your neck while sinking his fangs deeper into you. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, as you held onto his broad shoulders while he basically slammed you into the bed. “Oh Miguel,” you moaned out. He nodded, not able to speak, due to his fangs still being attached to your neck. You could tell he was getting close too with how sloppy his pace was getting. 

You’re washed over with bliss when the heat in your stomach finally takes over the rest of your body, almost clawing at Miguel while you come. His hands put more pressure on your breasts as he comes as well, moaning into the softness of your neck. Once you two have both finished, he slowly pulls his teeth out of your neck, and licks up the metallic liquid with his warm, delicate tongue. He slowly pulls his cock out of the sweetness of your cunt and rolls over to lay next to you on the bed, dragging his fingers across your pussy, taking the cum his fingers picked up and putting it in his mouth.

He plants a kiss onto your forehead before saying, “One second, princesa, I’ll be right back,” as he got up to go to the bathroom. He must have been in there for about 10 minutes before coming back into your room and reaching out his hand for yours. You take his hand as he leads you out of bed, reminded of how naked you are when you reveal yourself from the sheets.

He leads you into the bathroom to see that hes drawn a bath for the two of you. You blush slightly at the gesture, as he gets in first and leads you in. The touch of the water numbs your body slightly with the mixture of the cold room to the hot bath water. You almost melt as you sink in, laying your back against Miguel’s chest as he wraps his arms around your body. You could fall asleep right here, mixed between the comfort of the bath water, and Miguel’s body finally against yours again. The bathtub was kind of small, so his body was taking up most of the space, causing him to basically engulf you. 

You were surrounded in him, his lips almost attached to the nape of your nack, his arms consuming your upper half, and his legs intwining with your lower half. He wiggles slightly to reach the soap, puts it in the water to wet it, and lathers it onto your body. First, he washes your arms, rubbing the soap back and forth over your arm hairs, and even under your armpits. Next, he moves to wash your chest. He takes the soap and moves it over your breasts and your underboob, causing you to move in closer to him. His response is to peck kisses into the crook of your neck, getting little giggles out of you. You stop giggling though after he stops kissing you and stays still for a second. 

You wait in silence for him to do something. “...Miggy…you okay?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything. You turn your head slightly to see him. Out of your peripherals, you see him staring solemnly at your back. He’s finally seen them. The four almost perfectly placed scars warping across your back. They were huge. And he knows they’re from him. You turned your head back to the front and dug it in between your knees, pushing out your back even more. Miguel delicately traced his fingers over them, as you waited curled up for him to say something. “I’m sorry,” is all he can manage to weakly push out. 

You decide to turn your body around to face him, splashing water around in the cramped bathtub while doing so. His eyes are down with sadness creeping over his face. You cup his cheek with your hand and press a loving, gentle kiss onto his lips. You bring his arms over your shoulders and wrap your legs around his hips. You wanted to be engulfed by him. You were so pressed on staying mad at him for so many years that you forgot how much you loved being this close to him. You could hear his heart softly beating as you pressed your head against his chest. He soon wrapped his arms around your body, taking you into him, and dug his head into the crook of your neck, almost as if he was hiding. 

You stayed there for a moment before eventually turning back around. You laid your head in a position so you could still see his face if you looked up. You could feel yourself slowly dozing off in his arms. Your last thoughts before you slipped out of consciousness was of how perfect this was. 

You had found your home again. Moreso, he found his way to you. And this time, you were never going to let go.

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

a/n: i just wanted to say thank you to everyone for sticking around during this series. i know it wasn't meant to be 4 parts and only 2 so i really appreciate everyone who stuck around for the whole thing. make sure to look out for my next thing cause i wanna start writing an enemies to lover oc x miguel thing so please go and support that once thats out. thanks guys!!!!

taglist: @jenniferdixon05207 @sweetanimebakery @azxulaa @daimiyu @vinkar345 @pinkninja200 @luvstich @rin-matsuoka345-blog @lillunna @konniebon @hwanunjin @simp-nerd-16 @chucklefuvk @elwyn7 @haileybxxr @ilovemymomscooking @lansy-4 @maxi-ride @d4rno @callsign-blue @obamnas-soda @sophipet @violentlyneon @d1lf-loverrr @afro-hispwriter @kirke-is-my-name @ilovemiguelohara @lavnderluv @konniebon @msecho19 @kiamewrites

[chestersturniolo]

𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

ties to the past , part 2

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

Warnings; angsty, swearing, pet names, use of y/n. if you’ve read part one i suggest a re-read for full effect of part two hehe, enjoy !

••••••••••••••••

You shake your head, wiping away a tear. "I just need to know the truth, Chris. Where do we stand? Is this… are we real, or am I just filling in the gaps of what you lost with her?"

He looks at you, desperation in his eyes, searching for the right words, something that could possibly make this better. But all he can do is sit there, feeling helpless as the reality of the situation weighs down on both of you, the silence between you more telling than any words he could offer.

"I…-" he started, but his voice faltered. He looked up, meeting your tear-filled eyes.

"-I don’t have an excuse," he finally said, his voice soft and raw. 

"I’ve been a fool, and I didn’t even realize how much I was hurting you. I never wanted to make you feel like you were second to anyone. You’re not. You’re the most important person in my life."

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words soothe the ache in your chest, but the doubt lingered. 

"Then why, Chris?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Why does she still have this power over you? Why can’t you let her go?"

Chris ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his face.

 "I don’t know-" he admitted, his voice cracking. "Maybe because she was my first love, and I never really got closure. But that doesn’t mean I want her back. I’ve moved on, I swear I have, but…"

"But you haven’t really moved on," you interrupted.

Chris looked at you, his eyes pleading.

"No,no,you’re…you’re everything I want, everything I need. I know I’ve been an idiot, I know I’ve messed up, but I love you. I love you, not her”

You took a deep breath, as you took in Chris’ words. But they felt empty now. You wanted to believe him—desperately—but you couldn’t. 

"Chris-“ you began, your voice firmer now, though the tears still glistened in your eyes. 

"I love you too, but this... this isn't something we can just brush aside. You need to figure out what you really want, I can't keep living in this limbo”

His face fell, panic flashing in his eyes as he reached for you. "Please, don’t say that. We can work this out together. I’ll do anything—"

But you gently pulled away, shaking your head. "No, Chris. I think we need some time apart. You need to sort through this on your own, and I…i need some space right now"

The room seemed to grow colder as the reality of your words settled in. Chris’s hand dropped to his side, his eyes wide with disbelief and fear. He didn’t want to let you leave, but he knew that trying to deny you, would only make things worse, pushing you further out of the door. So, with defeated sigh, Chris slowly nodded.

The silence of the room was heavy, as you grabbed your things and headed for the door. You paused, looking back at him one last time, trying to etch the image of him into your mind, just in case this was the last time you saw him like this. Then you left, closing the door softly behind you, the finality of it hitting you like a punch to the gut.

---

A few days had passed. You had been throwing yourself into work, into distractions, anything to keep your mind off the gaping hole Chris had left behind. But no matter how hard you tried, he was always there, in the back of your mind, a constant presence you couldn’t shake.

It was on one of those restless afternoons that you found yourself wandering through the city, the bustle of life around you a contrast to the dull ache in your chest. The sky was overcast, a perfect reflection for your mood as you absentmindedly roamed the streets, unsure of where you were going until you stopped in front of a familiar coffee shop. 

You paused, something drawing your gaze to the large windows that lined the front of the shop. And that’s when you saw him—Chris—sitting at a table near the window. For a moment, relief and longing surged through you, but then your heart plummeted when you realized he wasn’t alone.

There she was, his ex, sitting across from him.

It felt like the world stopped, everything around you fading into a blur as you stared at the scene in front of you. His words from that night echoed in your head, louder and louder until they were all you could hear. 

“You’re the most important person in my life… I love you, not her”

Liar.

The words tore through you as you stare at the two of them from afar, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face, hot and relentless. You turned away quickly, heart pounding as you forced yourself to walk, then run, until the coffee shop was far,far behind you.

By the time you reached your apartment, you were shaking, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. The tears wouldn’t stop. Feeling broken, you sank onto your couch, burying your face in your hands as the weight of it all finally came crashing down.

~~~

~The following day~

The morning had barely begun when you heard a knock at the door. It was the last thing you wanted to deal with, especially after the night you’d had. 

Every part of you ached with exhaustion—physical, emotional, everything. But when the knocking persisted, you forced yourself to get up, dragging your feet across the floor as you made your way to the door.

When you opened it, there stood Chris. His eyes immediately fixing onto you. Your emotions were numb. With no more tears left to cry for him, you stared back at him, your expression remained blank and cold. 

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice hesitant, almost fragile. 

You stay silent, raising your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

"I miss you like hell ma,I want to work through this, through everything. I’m ready if and when you’ll have me…she's not a factor anymore”

You shook your head slowly, a small laugh of disbelief escaping you. 

"Fucking liar" you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

Chris’s face fell, confusion and hurt flashing across his features. 

"What?"

Your voice hardened as you repeated yourself, louder this time. 

"I said, fucking liar. I saw you yesterday, Chris”The memory of seeing him with her burned fresh in your mind, making your voice shake with barely suppressed anger.

His jaw dropped slightly, and he stammered

"I-it wasn’t what it looked like, I swear”

You’d heard enough. You moved to slam the door in his face, but he quickly wedged his foot in the gap, stopping it from closing. 

"Wait, please!" he begged, desperation thick in his voice. "Just hear me out… please y/n!" he pleaded.

With a tired sigh, you relented, letting go of the door and letting it swing open again. Chris’ eyes were filled with tears now.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he spoke. 

"I only met up with her to end things for good. She wouldn’t leave me alone—she kept calling, texting. I thought if I saw her in person,she’d finally get the message”

You felt a flicker of doubt as you listen 

"And you expect me to believe that?" 

He swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "Yes. Because it’s the truth. I know I messed up, but I’m telling you—it’s done. i have my closure now. And yes,she was my first love. But you…you’re the love of my life-“ 

Chris let’s put a shaky breath.

“-you’re my future y/n. I need you to believe that."

For a long moment, you said nothing, just staring at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit. He looked back at you, his eyes desperate. The numbness you felt,now faltering after hearing chris’ words, as a wave of emotion crashes over you, tears pricking in your eyes.

“How can I trust you?” you whisper 

Chris took a step closer

 “Let me prove it to you. Give me the chance to show you that I’m committed to us. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust”

A flicker of hope ignited in your chest, mingling with the remnants of your hurt. It was a risk, opening your heart again, but maybe it was a risk worth taking.

“One chance, Chris”

His face lit up with relief as he reaches his hands to cup your cheeks

“That’s all i need baby-“ he starts as he brings his forehead to rest against yours, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

“-thankyou thankyou thankyou” chris repeats to himself in a whisper.

~~~

Days turned into weeks, and Chris worked hard to rebuild your trust. He was there for you, listening, being open about everything, proving through his actions that he was serious about making things right. You began to feel the walls you’d built around your heart start to crumble again as time went on. The ties to the past untethering. 

••••••••••••••••••

A/N; FINALLLYYYYY!!! i’m sorry it took so longgg i just wanted to make sure i had enough time to put the effort into it, i hope you guys enjoyed!!! 🤍

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

Part 1 - ties to the past

MASTERLIST

tag list;

@sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

@sturniooolos @monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @slutforsturnioloss @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4 

@brianna-grace12 

[puppym3]

heyaaa!!! if u still do requests, i have a request for minho! if u also havent done this one, but what if u do their song "i like it" about minho ??

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

── .✦ 'i love that i like you, but i don't wanna love'

minho x reader

wc: 4.1k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, situationship, fwb, angsty, one-sided pining, minho is an asshole, "i can fix him" reader, awkward, reader is so delusional at the start it's funny, hurt comfort, late confessions, fluffy at end, i heal ur wounds dw, (lmk if i missed any)

a/n: omg anon ur trying to break my heart, as a hopeless romantic this might be my first ever sort of angsty piece. but either way i love "i like it" its literally been on repeat its probs one of my favorites from the album. i loved writing this so much you have no idea, THANK YOU for suggesting!

reminder to not be too delulu, these are just fictional stories that i write to show off my creative writing!! also i have a taglist if you're interested!!!!!

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The city lights glimmered through the window, casting a soft glow across Minho's apartment. The hum of the city outside was a constant reminder of the world continuing on, regardless of the turmoil within. You lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, Minho's arm draped lazily over your waist. The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air, a mix of comfort and longing that you had come to know too well.

"Hey," Minho's voice broke through your thoughts. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through you. "You okay?"

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. "Yeah, just thinking."

He sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

That was the problem. Talking meant opening up, and opening up meant risking the fragile balance you had. Friends with benefits, a situationship, whatever it was, it worked because there were no labels, no expectations. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

"Minho," you started, hesitating. The words felt heavy on your tongue, a mix of hope and fear. "What are we doing?"

His expression softened, but there was a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe?—in his eyes. "We're having fun, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but..." You sat up, pulling the sheets around you like a shield. "Is that all this is? Just fun?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a habit you had come to recognize as his way of stalling for time. "I like what we have, you know that. I just... I,"

You swallowed hard, the words stinging more than you wanted to admit. "And what if I want more?"

Minho's gaze dropped, his silence louder than any answer he could give. 'I like you'—if only it were that easy.

"I can't do this forever, Minho," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I need to know if there's a future here, or if I'm just fooling myself."

He looked back at you, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and confusion. "I'm not ready for anything more right now."

The words hung in the air, a painful confirmation of your deepest fears. You nodded slowly, the ache in your chest spreading. "I understand."

As you got dressed and prepared to leave, Minho reached out, his hand catching yours. "Wait, don't go like this."

You paused, looking at him one last time. "I need to go think."

With that, you slipped out of his grasp, each step away from him feeling heavier than the last. The door closed behind you, the finality of it echoing in the empty hallway.

That night, you cried until your eyes were raw and your head ached until there were no tears left and all that was left was an empty feeling in your chest.

"What are you doing here?"

You saw your best friend standing in your doorway, her brow furrowed with worry. "I needed to see you, you didn't pick up any calls."

You felt the tears starting to form again as she pulled you into her arms. "I'm an idiot," you managed to say in between sobs.

She gently patted your back. "You're not an idiot, he's the idiot."

"He's not an idiot," you said softly.

She held you at arm's length, looking into your eyes. "Then tell me what happened. What has your eyes all puffy at 9 in the morning?"

"He wants to be just friends, that's all." you sighed.

"What?" her brows furrowed. "I thought you liked each other? What's stopping him?"

"I asked what he wants to be, and he said 'he's not ready for anything'."

She groaned, "he doesn't deserve you"

You let out a deep breath. "He doesn't, does he? But, I like him."

"Why are you putting yourself through this?" She said with worry in her eyes as she traced circles on your back.

"I wanted to fight for him, but every time I end up in his bed, I hurt myself more."

"Fight for him?"

You nodded slowly, your resolve hardening as you said the words aloud. "I'm going to fight for him."

She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "And how are you going to do that?"

You hesitated, realizing that you hadn't thought that far ahead. "I guess I'll... call him? No, no that would be awkward... maybe I'll just stop by his apartment and—"

She raised an eyebrow, looking at you pointedly. "And what, you're gonna sleep with him again? What would that do?"

Your cheeks flushed. "Okay, no. Maybe I'll take him out to coffee? No, that's too casual. Maybe dinner?"

"Dinner would be good."

"Dinner would be good," you agreed, a hint of nervousness creeping into your voice.

Your best friend put her arm around your shoulder and gave you a reassuring squeeze. "You shouldn't be doing this, but I support you."

"Thank you."

She shook her head, laughing softly. "If it doesn't work, we're gonna eat so much comfort food tonight."

That afternoon, you paced around your apartment, phone in hand as you tried to muster up the courage to call Minho. Your best friend's words echoed in your mind, reminding you of the risk you were taking. With a deep breath, you hit the call button.

As the phone rang, you felt your heart pounding in your chest, your palms growing clammy. After what felt like an eternity, the familiar sound of Minho's voice filled your ear.

"Hey, it's me." You paused, gathering your thoughts. "I wanted to apologize for the other night. I was upset and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

You could hear the hesitance in his voice as he replied, "No, it's alright. I'm sorry, too."

"Can I take you out for dinner? I think we need to talk about things." You held your breath, waiting for his response.

"Yeah... I think that'd be okay," he said after a moment, "When?"

"I'm free tonight," you offered, trying to hide the hopeful note in your voice.

There was a long silence before Minho spoke again, "Okay, I'll see you at 6."

You hung up, the finality of the words hitting you. Was this your last chance?

The minutes passed by slowly, your anticipation building with each passing minute. Finally, 6 o'clock came around, and you made your way to the restaurant. You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves as you pushed open the doors.

You spotted Minho seated at a table, and made your way over to him. He stood as you approached, smiling.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Hey." You swallowed, trying to find your words. "I, I've missed you."

Minho looked away, a mix of emotions on his face. "It's been a day."

You laughed, trying to ease the tension. "Oh, right."

There was a moment of awkward silence before Minho finally spoke again, his voice barely a whisper.

"I think I missed you too."

You looked at him, the realization dawning on you. He had missed you too. It was something, he at least thought about you during day. "Minho—"

He looked up, meeting your gaze. "What is it?"

"I just..." You took a deep breath. "I don't want to lose what we have. But if that means being friends, then that's what we'll do. Because I can't stand losing you completely."

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes filled with surprise. Then he nodded slowly. "I don't want to lose what we have as well."

Your chest ached, but you smiled anyway, grateful for the small victory. You would be fine with it. You could be fine with it if that's all you could ever get.

"But," you started, an idea coming to your mind, "if I get a boyfriend, we'll stop whatever this is."

Minho blinked, the words sinking in. He took a moment, contemplating. Then he nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

His expression was unreadable, was he upset? Or was he fine with the idea of never speaking to you again?

Your heart sank at the thought, did he really feel nothing at all for you?

You forced yourself to smile, trying to hide the ache in your chest. "Thank you," you said softly.

Minho smiled, but you could tell it was forced. You excused yourself and went to the washroom to splash cold water on your face, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill.

You had to leave, you had to get out of here. You made your way outside, the cool night air helping to calm you.

You leaned against the wall, taking a shaky breath as you tried to hold back the tears. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heartbeat.

You forced yourself to come to reality with all of this, you ran home without thinking twice. You had to end all of this now and leave before you ended up in his bed again.

You slammed your front door shut, locking the deadbolt and falling on the ground crying. The tears wouldn't stop flowing, it felt like a river of emotion that was overwhelming you. You were so scared of losing him, of not having him in your life. You sat on the ground for what felt like an eternity, trying to make sense of your emotions.

Getting rid of him now was the only way, the only way you'd survive without being broken-hearted. You dragged yourself to bed and cried yourself to sleep, clutching the pillow and blankets like they were your lifeline.

A week had already passed. You did your best to stay busy, trying to distract yourself from thinking about Minho. You had blocked his number, so you had no idea if he had tried to reach out to you at all.

Your best friend had been beside you to keep you from losing your mind completely or unblocking his number.

The two of you decided to watch movies all weekend long to take your minds off the situation, which helped for a while, but now that it was Monday and you were back at work, you felt like a walking zombie.

Your thoughts drifted to Minho throughout the day, wondering what he was doing, if he had moved on yet, or if he still thought of you at all.

You pushed the thoughts out of your head, trying to focus on your work. But it was no use. He was constantly in your mind, even though you knew there was no point in thinking of him.

You closed your eyes, letting your mind wander back to when things were still good between the two of you, the feeling of his tender hands on your body and his soft lips against yours. You remembered his words, 'I like what we have.' Did he mean it? Did he still think that after everything that happened? Or were they just words?

You opened your eyes, tears forming again as you stared out the window, lost in thought.

The clock seemed to move agonizingly slowly, but eventually, your workday came to an end, and you gathered your things to head home. You took a deep breath before heading out the door, bracing yourself for another long, lonely night.

You walked slowly through the dark streets, lost in your thoughts. You came across a familiar intersection, and you hesitated, memories of Minho flooding your mind.

The two of you used to take this route back to your apartment when he would walk you home from work. You stood in the middle of the empty intersection, staring at the stoplight, debating on whether to continue home or take the long way to your apartment, the way the two of you used to take.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. It was silly, getting hung up on someone that didn't even care.

You crossed the street, heading in the direction of your apartment. You glanced down the familiar route, memories of the two of you talking about the stupidest things.

You closed your eyes and sighed, a pang of longing hitting you. You missed him so much, more than you had ever expected.

You kept your eyes closed, your mind replaying memories of Minho as you walked home. It hurt to think about, but it also hurt not to think about him.

The two of you were inseparable, even when you fell in love with him, he enabled your feelings, kissing you, touching you, and sharing nights with you.

He was so easy to love. And he was so easy to lose.

You opened your eyes as you reached your apartment, the familiar surroundings providing you with a sense of comfort.

You trudged up the stairs, feeling more drained than you had all week. You reached your apartment, the familiar walls surrounding you like a warm embrace.

You threw your keys onto the table, slumping down in a chair and closing your eyes.

You breathed in the comforting scent of home, the ache in your chest still lingering, but you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You were home.

You sat for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being at home after a long day at work. The quiet was comforting, a contrast to the busy, loud environment you'd spent your day in. You sat with your eyes closed for a few minutes, allowing your thoughts to settle.

You heard a faint knock on your front door. Your heart stopped, and you shot up out of your chair, hesitantly walking to the door.

You paused, taking a deep breath before opening it, knowing you couldn't keep it locked forever.

"Minho." The word slipped out before you could stop it, your voice a mix of surprise and pain.

Minho's face was somber, his expression unreadable as he spoke.

"I think I love you."

His voice was soft, the words tinged with sadness. You looked into his eyes, seeing the pain there.

You took a deep breath, your heart aching. You opened your mouth to reply, but he continued, the words pouring out of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it would feel so painful to not see you, or hear your voice, or touch you. I just couldn't stop thinking about you, about how you made me feel."

You couldn't hold back the tears any longer as his words filled your ears, your chest aching more than it had in a long time.

You bit your lip, trying to stay calm. Is this real, or are you dreaming? Did he come back to fuck with your feelings?

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of pain and happiness flooding you as you looked into his eyes, trying to see if he was sincere.

His face was pained, his expression vulnerable as he stood in your doorway. You hesitated, trying to find the words to say.

He stepped closer to you, closing the space between you, the proximity causing your heart to skip a beat.

"I liked what we had, that part is true. But I never realized how I felt until you disappeared from my life."

You tried to breathe evenly as he reached out to take your hands, his touch gentle as he spoke again.

"I know I've been selfish this entire time, but I miss you. I miss everything about you."

His words pierced through your heart, leaving you speechless. You were frozen in place, trying to comprehend his words.

Minho closed his eyes, a small smile forming on his face. "I missed you."

The two of you stood in silence for a few seconds, his hands holding yours tightly as he stared into your eyes, his gaze softening as you finally managed to reply.

"I missed you, too."

Without hesitation, you grabbed his face and pulled him in, crashing your lips together as his hands pulled you close to him, holding you as if you would disappear any second.

Your hands moved from his face to the nape of his neck as the kiss grew deeper, his lips parting as the two of you explored each other's mouths.

Minho's hands roamed your body as yours did his, a familiar warmth spreading through your body as you gave yourself to him once again.

You broke apart for air, panting as you tried to catch your breath. The two of you stood there in your doorway for a moment, catching your breaths and staring at each other, neither one wanting to let go.

You were still unsure of where your relationship stood, but as Minho's hand reached for your waist once more and pulled you close, his lips capturing yours again, all your worries seemed to disappear.

He guided you into your apartment, shutting the door behind him and backing you against the wall. Your hands found the back of his head once again as you melted into his touch, his kisses filled with longing.

His hand wandered up your back and into your hair as his other hand rested on your hip, a soft groan escaping his lips as the kiss grew deeper. You wrapped your leg around his, your body pressing against him as you held him close, trying to convey the emotions you couldn't put into words.

After a few minutes, you finally broke the kiss, looking into his eyes as you both panted softly. Your chest was pounding as you looked up at him, trying to read his expression.

He smiled softly at you, his face flushed from the intensity of the kiss. His eyes met yours and held your gaze, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair.

He reached up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

You felt a familiar warmth spreading through your chest at his touch, a small smile forming on your lips as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. You leaned into him, your chest pressing against his as you hugged him tightly, your cheek resting against his.

He hugged you back, his arms wrapping around you as you nuzzled your nose against his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, enjoying each other's warmth and closeness, the silence broken only by the soft sound of his heart beating.

The two of you stood in each other's arms for what felt like an eternity, but could have been minutes or hours. Time didn't exist anymore as the two of you held onto each other, neither one wanting to let go.

Finally, you reluctantly pulled away, looking into his eyes as you spoke. "We should probably talk properly."

His eyes searched yours, his expression serious as he nodded, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "Okay," he said softly.

You nodded, stepping away from him and moving to the living room, the distance between the two of you growing again. You sat down on the couch, your hands resting in your lap as you stared down at them.

Minho sat down next to you, his body tense as he watched you.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as you gathered your thoughts. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words seemed to get caught in your throat, your voice coming out barely louder than a whisper. "I've loved you ever since we started sleeping together."

Minho's eyes widened slightly as he stared at you, his mouth slightly agape as your words registered with him. You felt a familiar pang of sadness in your chest as you remembered that time.

He looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You bit your lip, struggling to find the right words. "I thought you knew. I would always bring up going further with you, but you dismissed me."

You looked down, fidgeting with your hands as you tried to hold back tears. "I just thought things would change if we put labels on things."

The silence in the air grew deafening as you looked up, your heart pounding as you saw tears forming in Minho's eyes. He reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch light and reassuring.

"But I want those labels now, all of them," he whispered. "I'm so sorry I made you feel that way."

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally began to trickle down your cheeks as you looked up at him. "Minho, I thought you felt nothing for me."

He reached out and gently brushed the tears away from your face, his eyes filled with concern as he stared into your eyes.

Minho took a deep breath before continuing. "I know I've hurt you, but I never want to see you cry again."

Your chest ached as you tried to process his words. It was as if everything you had gone through since the 'break-up' was suddenly erased, as if none of it had mattered. You stared into his eyes, trying to figure out what to say.

Minho's lips curved up into a small smile as he cupped your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumb as he gazed into your eyes.

You reached up and wrapped your hands around his, holding onto them tightly as you felt a familiar warmth spreading through your chest at his touch.

"I want to try and start again, as your boyfriend," he said softly, placing a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

You felt your heart racing as the words left his mouth, your chest tightening as he looked into your eyes, searching for your reaction.

You took a deep breath, your eyes closing for a second as you tried to steady yourself, the words that left his mouth feeling almost unreal. "Minho," you breathed. "Is this real? Are you serious?"

A smile broke out onto his face as he nodded. "If you'll let me, yes."

Without saying a word, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him into a kiss as your heart raced, the tears on your face now dried.

Minho kissed you back with equal intensity, his hands cupping your face as your hands tangled themselves into his hair. The kiss was soft and filled with longing as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment.

As your lips parted, you felt Minho's forehead pressed against yours as his hands traced down to the small of your back, holding you close. You closed your eyes and smiled, relishing the feeling of being in his arms once again.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he held you, the two of you taking in the feeling of each other. It had only been a week, but it felt like a lifetime had passed.

"I'm your girlfriend now?" you asked hesitantly, still not sure if this was all real.

Minho laughed softly as he nodded. "You're my girlfriend," he confirmed, his voice filled with affection.

You laughed and leaned back, taking in his expression and memorizing the look in his eyes, feeling a warmth in your heart you hadn't felt for a while.

He suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up with ease as you shrieked in surprise. He carried you to the bed and gently placed you down on the mattress as if you were made of glass, the mattress shifting from the weight of his body as he moved to lie beside you.

"What do we do now?" you asked softly as his hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your lips as he leaned in for a tender kiss.

When he broke away, you found yourself expecting more, but he simply smiled at you as he laid back down and pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you.

"This is all I want to do," he whispered, nuzzling your neck and kissing it lightly. "I want to fall asleep holding you and wake up beside you in the morning."

His words were tender as they reached your ears, making your heart melt.

"Okay," you breathed, pressing a kiss on his cheek and turning around so your back was facing his chest. You snuggled closer to him as he pulled you close, his hands resting on your abdomen and holding you tightly as he buried his face into your neck, kissing it.

You breathed in deeply, his scent surrounding you as your heart swelled with affection.

"Good night, I love you."

His voice was soft, but you could feel the emotion behind the words. You let out a soft sigh as your eyelids fluttered shut, the feeling of Minho holding you lulling you to sleep.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

[h4ndwr1tten]

HI omg this has been eating away at me,, could i request an angsty (but with a happy ending) fic where the reader has been in love with kento ever since they were classmates at juju high and she always flirts with him but he rejects her every time up until the present day at shibuya where she saves his life by using a technique that gives him her life force and allows him to regenerate ig or take the blow of the hit and that leaves her on the brink kf death and kento realizes how much he's actually been in love with her the whole time and somehow she survives and he literally g r o v e l s and confesses and UGH this is too long i'm sorry but feel free to change some details to your convenience, TYSMM 🫶🫶🫶

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

characters — nanami kento x reader

note — i'm genuinely sorry i dont post requests on time :( anyways i didn't know how to end it so if i have time to i might rewrite it? i'm just trying to get this out bc i feel bad for leaving anon hanging.. (CORNY AHH TITLE)

cw — anxiousness, unrequited love (or so it seems) in the first half, violence kinda?, reader gets hurt and ends up in the hospital, kissing on the hand, confession ish, shitty ending might rewrite, not proofread. lmk if i missed any.

synopsis — you've gone through years and years confessing your feelings to kento, but this mission might be the scariest thing you've gone through. even for kento.

goosebumps covered your skin as worry churns in your stomach. on every other mission, you had felt worry and fear regarding the mission, but it was a normal thing that almost every other sorcerer experienced. those feelings, however, weren't the nagging, unrelenting ones you were feeling right now.

no, this was a gut feeling. of what, you couldn't decide. you knew it was a gut feeling because of the way it couldn't be diminished through encouragement and reassurance, and the way it came crawling back to you every time you were able to get your mind off of it. despite knowing you weren't going to be alone in this mission, you couldn't help but feel uncomfortable and fearful for not just yourself, but everyone involved as well.

especially kento.

kento was going on this mission, alongside a few other sorcerers, and the thought of going into this with you provided some solace for your troubles. you felt safe with him, you always have.

ever since your high school days as a student at jujutsu high, you've always been drawn to kento. he was one first friends there, and despite not being exactly best friends, you always cherished his company.

that is until a year later, you began seeing him in a different light, one that was more romantic than platonic. you started noticing the little details that made kento, kento. how he liked to keep his blond hair swept to his right. how he would subconsciously hum to himself when he was focused on something. how he always made room for something sweet after dinner. you began to crave his presence more than you usually did. you started seeking him out in classes and in crowds. you tried your best to impress him, whether it be working hard in class, giving your all during practice, or fighting hard on a mission. you even began flirting with him, starting off subtle before becoming more obvious. you did everything you could think of just so he could see you the way you saw him.

you remember the first time he rejected you. you remember how at first, you were in denial because you really thought you had a chance. you cried to shoko about it, and somehow satoru and suguru as well (they were eavesdropping and jumped into the conversation). then you cried more by yourself, eventually falling into a deep slumber after exhausting yourself.

~~~

"hi ken!" you greeted your friend, a little more eager than usual.

you were up last night, convincing yourself that it was time to confess your feelings and that he would feel the same, or at least give you a chance. you had been keeping your feelings to yourself for a little over a month now, and you felt like you couldn't wait any longer.

now here you were, standing in front of the teen you had a massive crush on, who was sitting on a bench under a tree, with a book in his hand and his favorite sandwich lying on the space next to him.

kento sent you a small smile in acknowledgement, before slightly scooting to the side as if to make room for you.

you blushed at the gesture then took a seat on the bench, watching kento as he flipped a page in his book.

"what're you reading?" you ask. to be honest, you weren't really interested in his book. you just wanted to start a conversation before confessing your feelings for him.

"a biography," he answered briefly.

"about who?"

"some warrior."

then, setting the book down, kento turned to you with a curious look on his face. "did you need something, y/n?"

his amber eyes found yours and a sudden wave of nerves came over you. where had your determination and confidence gone? your heart probably grabbed them both and chucked it out of your body and across the nation. then its beating increased, as if taunting you for being so confident.

"um," you started slowly, breaking the eye contact and looking down at your lap. "i... you..."

"take your time," kento hummed. was it obvious how anxious you became, or was he just that good at reading people?

you began fidgeting with the hem of your skirt while trying to find the right words. a simple 'i like you' wouldn't suffice, because what you felt seemed stronger than just a 'like'. this was so much easier in your head. with a deep breath to prepare you and shifting your gaze back to him, you finally spoke.

"nanamikentoihavefeelingsforyou."

"huh?"

"i have... feelings for you," you spoke more slowly this time.

his brow quirked up, and as he opened his mouth to respond, you cut him off.

"i like you."

so much for not saying 'i like you'.

"oh."

oh? what oh? was that a good oh or a bad oh? you thought to yourself. kento grew silent and looked down at the grass, and his silence worsened your nerves. you were squeezing the end bit of your skirt now, while your mind was playing every other scenario you could have been in right now.

"kento?" his name leaving your mouth in a barely there whisper.

he turned back to you with pink cheeks and ears. you would've thought he was flattered if it wasn't for what he said next.

"i'm sorry, y/n. if you mean romantic feelings, and you like me in that sense, i don't feel the same way."

the whole world stopped. the distant chatter and bird calls faded into silence. the rise and fall of your chest paused as you felt yourself stop breathing. your cramped fingers finally stilled a against your skirt. your head kept replaying those words again and again, and your shattered heart dropped to your stomach, bringing a sick feeling with it.

"oh," you whispered. "i see."

you couldn't bare to be in this area anymore, or anywhere near kento. you were so sure that he'd at least want to see where things go with you. had you become so delusional and forgotten to think that being rejected was the other half of all possible outcomes?

a gentle hand then laid on your shoulder, while a face came into your peripherals. you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, knowing it would only bring you more shame.

"but we can still remain friends. it won't be awkward, to me at least," kento suggested politely and, what he might've thought, comfortingly.

but it only worsened your humiliation. he just had to use that term, that wretched word. as if his rejection wasn't enough, he really thought it was a good idea to say the damned f-word after confessing he didn't feel the same.

you knew kento only had good intentions in mind when he said it, and you understood that he never meant to hurt you with his words. but that simple sentence made it clear to you that that was all he saw you as.

a friend.

you could feel your throat closing up, your nose burning, and your eyes beginning to prick. kento already felt bad, it was clear, and you didn't want to make him feel worse. so you decided that it was time to leave, and maybe never leave your bed again.

"okay, well," you sniffed, wiping a stray tear and standing up, "thank you for being honest and telling me how you feel."

upon seeing your crestfallen face, kento frowned. "y/n, i'm sorry—"

"no, don't apologize. i understand," you smiled sadly.

after mumbling a broken and half-hearted 'have a wonderful evening', you left the bench under the tree and cried the rest of the day.

~~~

despite being rejected and so, so hurt, you quickly came to realize that your feelings weren't fading any time soon. they continued to linger, like someone who couldn't take a hint and conversing with another who just wanted to get through the day. you yourself got the hint, the message—kento didn't reciprocate your feelings. but your heart didn't quite get the memo, as it refused to let go of the man.

over time, your feelings grew stronger and so did the urge to confess once again. so you confessed, and once again, you were rejected. this time, however, you cried a little less. moved on a little quicker. and you tried again.

this grew into a cycle, an unhealthy one, for the rest of your high school years. it was predictable and pathetic, but with feelings for kento as strong as yours? you were determined to get him to see you as more than just his good friend, hell, to even go out on at least one date.

and now, present times, nothing had changed. you were still in love with nanami kento and he... well, he was still not in love. you were still confessing and he was still rejecting. you might've seemed desperate, but your feelings never went away and kento never ended his friendship with you, so it had to mean something. right?

right now, however, your feelings were the least of your worries. your brows were furrowed, your bottom lip was tucked in between your teeth, and you were wringing your wrists over and over. despite going on this mission with the man you trusted above all, you felt that things wouldn't turn out the way they should.

"are you alright, y/n?" kento quietly asked you, having noticed your silence and body language.

"hm? oh, yeah. i'm just," you paused, then whispered, "scared."

you felt kento's hand gently lay on your shoulder, feeling his eyes on your own as he spoke, "it's going to be okay. i'll be there with you the entire time, and i will do my best to keep you safe and unharmed."

smiling up at him, you nodded and thanked him. he nodded once back, then led you two out the door and onto the mission.

you could barely function at this point. your vision was clouded with dark fuzzy spots, you could barely move your sore and numb limbs, your ears were ringing as though an alarm were blaring in them. your head was throbbing as blood trickled down your face from the gash above your brow, and your heart was racing faster than it ever had before.

the mission had gone horribly wrong; the curse was far more dangerous and powerful than expected. it could birth weaker clones that were still enough to cause damage, and the only way to stop the multiplication was to eliminate the main curse.

which had set its dark, blood lusted eyes on you for the past half hour. and in that time, you felt your life flashing before your eyes. you didn't know where kento had gone—the last you saw of him was taking on an army of the multiples.

your delayed movements weren't helping much. all your energy had been depleted whilst trying to fight survive the curse, making it almost impossible to use your cursed technique. if you thought fighting was exhausting, then trying to stay conscious felt much worse.

as you tried (and failed) to focus on executing technique, the curse came out of nowhere and violently hurled you into a nearby destroyed building. you broke through the remains of a wall, the only thing breaking your fall being a mound of ash and dust. chunks of the wall surrounded you, while a larger portion lay on the rest of your body below your shoulders. .

"y/n!"

despite the ringing and your heart thrumming in your ears, you could hear his distant yell for you. he must have finally gotten rid of the multiples when the main was focused on you, or held them off long enough to find you. whatever he did, though, you couldn't focus on right now. all you could really think of was the excruciating pain and fear you were experiencing.

the impact from you hitting the wall had knocked the wind out of you and the wall fragment on your chest made things even worse. your lungs felt tight on the inside, while they were being crushed on the outside. you could barely get in any air, the most you could take in being a mere gasp. you were beginning to panic now. were you going to die? is this how you were going out, because you were unable to defeat a curse? where was kento?

you didn't realize it but tears had begun to fall from your eyes. a reaction caused by the emotions and physical pain you were overwhelmed with. you were scared, so fucking terrified to meet your inevitable end.

what you also didn't know was that kento was fighting his ass off trying to murder the curse. it felt a bit easier because of all the anger he was feeling towards the creature for absolutely wrecking you. all rationality left his body the moment he saw you be carelessly thrown like a rag doll, and now he found himself brutally attacking the curse with no remorse. even satoru was shocked at his behavior, as he thought this curse would need more than one person to defeat it.

it took a few minutes longer, but kento had defeated the curse. he had sliced up the lower body and saved the stupid, ugly head for last, cutting it in half through the eyes and another half through the side. and in exactly 5 seconds, the curse had let out a final whine before it's dismembered body and quartered head disintegrated into pools of foul-smelling acid, but kento could care less about it.

he sprinted to where you were laying, not caring that satoru was calling after him, not caring that civilians were hurt or scared. you were the only thing on his mind and his body burned with the sickening fear that you were—

no, he couldn't bare to think of it. you were strong, persistent, determined. you didn't give up that easily, he would know. kento knew you would put up a fight, and a good one at that, before you'd let death win over and welcome you. but the question was, how long did until that fight was over?

luckily enough, kento could see your dust-covered body underneath the rubble. your skin was losing its color quickly and he could see you trembling, hear you crying fearfully and painfully calling for help. he rushed to your side, immediately but gently lifting the broken debris off your frail body.

"k-kento," you wheezed, tears pouring out of your eyes and leaving trails through the dust. "i can't—i can't b-breathe, it.. hurts."

kento's hands were shaking violently, panic settling in and his mind wondering darker thoughts. with one hand, he gently cupped your face and looked into your glossy eyes.

"it's okay, y/n. everything will be okay, i'm going to get you out of here, and we'll get you help, i promise. just stay calm for me, okay?"

his reassurance was enough to quell the some of the anxiety gnawing at your insides. despite trembling badly, kento hastily continued to uncover your body from the wall. the larger piece took more effort, and though his hands were burning an angry red, kento continued to lift and push, then threw it somewhere away from you.

kento felt sick at the sight of your battered frame. your natural skin color was barely visible as bruises covered almost the entirety of your body. cuts and gashes so deep they would scar marked your torso, and blood was seeping out through them. he was a strong man who'd seen enough gore to make even the coldest people faint, but seeing you in this condition made his eyes sting and burn.

"kento," you sobbed, the pain becoming too much to bear.

not wasting anymore time, kento gently scooped you into his arms, but despite his best efforts, the winces and cries you let out let him know that even the slightest touch hurt like hell. he began to speed walk to satoru, yelling out for the man while trying not to bounce you too much.

his heart was racing faster than it ever had before. a kind of fear he had never felt was consuming him, tightening around his entire body and squeezing his lungs. he could barely breathe, barely think properly.

meanwhile, you could slowly feel yourself begin to drift out of consciousness. was this death opening its gates to you? welcoming you in the worst way possible, having the life leave your body in the arms of the man you were in love with? everything began to feel numb. you weren't crying anymore. you were feeling a little sleepy.

"y/n, don't you dare close your eyes!"

kento's loud and firm voice abruptly knocked some consciousness into you, keeping you awake for a little longer. he gave you a gentle squeeze on your arm, a whine escaping you at the ache.

"i'm so sorry, i don't want to hurt you. we're going to get you help, alright? satoru!"

you couldn't process what happened after that, as the ringing in your ears returned. your vision became fuzzy, but the last thing you remember was a mess of snowy hair, teary hazel eyes, and the world around you spinning.

you fell asleep.

the sound of steady beeps sounded throughout the area you were in. consciousness slowly making its way back into your body.

you were tired, so exhausted. you just wanted to sleep for a month, but as memories began to flood your mind, the desire to sleep seemed harder to achieve.

the last thing you recall happening was kento pulling you out of the remains of a building, carrying you bridal style away from where you had laid, and satoru placing a hand on both you and kento. anything after that, you had no recollection of.

the incessant beep coming from your left prompted you to open your eyes. you squinted right away, your pupils slowly adjusting to the change of brightness. above you were fluorescent lights and around you were clean, white walls. the room had little to no decoration or color and it felt sterile. physical feeling had come back to you, and you felt your body wrapped in thin sheets, laid on a firm mattress. tubes ran up and down your arms and you could feel them underneath the gown you found yourself in.

you hadn't taken too long to figure out that you were in a hospital room. what you didn't realize right away was the blond man sitting next to your bed, his head buried in one arm and the other holding your hand. he wasn't in his usual blue dress shirt and slacks. instead, he was in a plain black tee and sweats. you figured he must have changed during the time you were unconscious, which you still had yet to find out.

your mind was running slower than ever today, because it had just clicked that nanami kento was holding your hand. he was the last person you saw when you passed out and the first person you see when you awoke. had kento been here by your side the entire time?

wanting to see more of him, you shifted your weight onto your elbows, trying to prop yourself up and painfully failing. sharp stabbing-like sensation ran through your right shoulder, a burning one across your left arm, and your back felt stiff and extremely sore.

a loud wince involuntarily escaped your lips, tears rushing to your eyes at the overwhelming aches. immediately, kento woke and snapped his head, looking confused for a second, then realizing what was happening next.

"heyheyhey, y/n, don't move too much. you're still recovering, so just lie down, alright?"

he had stood from his seat and helped slowly lower your body back into the bed. he held you so firmly yet so gently as if not to hurt you or you'd break. he then pulled the thin sheets over your lap to keep you warm, then adjusted the bed so that you were slightly sitting up with support.

then, carefully cupping your face, he wiped a stray tear with his thumb, then lightly stroked across your cheek. his eyes were so full of concern as he scanned your entire face, as if making sure you were really here. the emotion radiating off of him and the way he held you with such delicacy made you feel so safe and cared for.

"how are you feeling?" kento whispered, brows slightly furrowed.

"it hurts," you whispered in response. a frown crossed kento's face and he genuinely looked so broken to know you were in great pain.

"i'm so, so sorry, y/n," kento apologized, breaking eye contact and bowing his head, almost shamefully. "i should have been there, by your side. i should've just let gojo take care of the clones, hell, the actual curse itself. i should have been there—"

"kento," you cut him off. you couldn't handle hearing him blame himself for your near-death experience. he couldn't have saved you while defending himself, and if there was a choice to be made, you would've rather he lived.

"please... don't think this was your fault," you requested, voice raspy from not talking and the incident. "it was not your fault the curse decided to come after me. it was not your fault i wasn't strong enough to fight it alone—"

"but that's the thing, y/n," kento argued. "you couldn't have taken that thing on alone. i should have been there to aid you and help take it down."

in an attempt to lighten the mood, you exhaled a laugh through your nose and joked, "what, you don't think i'm strong enough to fight a special-grade?"

kento gave you a pointed look, unamused at your quip. you smiled apologetically back before looking away from him, any trace of humor leaving your face.

"it's not that i don't think you're strong enough," he sighed. "i feel like i let you down."

"i should have stayed by your side. i shouldn't have let us get separated, i should have followed you, but i didn't. and now, look where we are."

he gestures to your frail figure, gently holding your arm and avoiding your eyes out of shame. boldly, you reached for his hand held it in both of yours, the action bringing his eyes to your own.

"kento, this wasn't your fault. i mean it. don't say anything of it again, or i'll purposely get your orders wrong when i'm bringing lunch. you were trying to save yourself, as was i. maybe i could have used some help, but that only means i need to improve my technique and combat. which also means, you could help me with that. maybe i could have died, but i'm here now, aren't i?" you rambled, not bothering to stop when kento opened his mouth to rebut. "let's not dwell on what's already happened and move forward, please?"

he fell silent, pressing his lips together in a thin line. it seemed as though there was more he wanted to say, and you knew there was, but this conversation would never end—he wouldn't be relieved of his guilt.

a sigh passed through kento's lips, more pigmented after pressing them together tightly. he nodded and as he rubbed gentle circles onto the top of your hand, he whispered an agreement.

you smiled at him, squeezing his hand to reassure him. kento kept wordless for another minute, head hung low and eyes shut. it was visible to anyone that his guilt was swallowing him whole, but he was fighting it for you. he covered your hand with his other, both hands now encasing your own. taking you by surprise, kento brought your hand up to his lips and placed the gentlest lingering kiss atop the skin. his lips, so soft and so warm, left a light buzz on the spot they laid on, and one throughout your body.

"when everything gets cleared up—your health, the reports—i'm taking you out."

what?

"seeing you hurt and in this state made me come to my senses. it confirmed something i had held back for so long, and made me realize that i can't wait."

"kento... what are you saying?" you mumbled slowly, confusion evident in every word.

he sighs, treading carefully. it's clear he's figuring out the right words to say, how to express how he's feeling.

"i'm saying that... in our line of work, developing close bonds with people can be dangerous. we can never be too sure, we can never be too close to someone because in the blink of an eye, it might be gone. what we do is dangerous. but, i think that not taking a chance is even more dangerous."

he sighs shakily, "and i am guilty of not realizing this sooner. but fate seems to be on my side, because even if i don't take them, chances keep coming back to me. and i think now, i'm ready to take it."

kento kisses your hand and brings his eyes to yours, finally declaring,

"i'm ready to take this chance with you."

and you smile, nodding as fireworks go off throughout your being.

after all these years, he finally likes you back.

note — sorry for the corny ending, i just needed to get the request done 😭 and sincerest apologized to the anon who requested, i really have no excuse other than writers block and busy schedules :(

m. list

[fortheloveoffanfic]

What if this is the last time I see you?

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: I'm sorry that I haven't finished one angsty story before forcing another onto you. But this one is shorter, I promise.

Summary: A chance run-in between exes at the farmers market leaves Andrew wondering if he’ll be okay never seeing Y/n again. Part 1 of 2.

Warnings: ANGST

At first, Andrew thinks his eyes must be playing tricks on him. But the longer he stares, the more it makes sense – and the more it makes sense, the more he is convinced. A pop-up farmers market, a fruit vendor selling an assortment of brightly coloured, sure-to-be sweet, freshly picked fruit. Or so he says.

She’s wearing a jacket that he swears he’s seen before, but it could’ve very well been on a mannequin in a store front and not in her closet – or on her body.

But he’s certain that its her. She’s carrying the basket in a way that’s all too familiar. She’s looking at strawberries and those are her favorite in the summer. It must be her.

So it must be divine intervention that he drove past the farmers market and decided to stop, because Andrew usually gets his produce at the grocery store, on the occasion that he’s home for long enough to do his own shopping.

Setting down the bright, glossy apple he’d been holding onto for a criminally long period, he inches towards her little section of the booth, debating what he should say. ‘Hi’ doesn’t feel like enough, but he fears that if he takes a chance with anything more he might stomp all over their impromptu reunion. He doesn’t want to be too much;

What a funny thought, he thinks. Considering the whole reason for their end was because he wasn’t enough.

Well, that might be a bit of an unfair distribution of blame. He’s pretty good at playing the victim where the demise of their relationship is concerned.

By the time he reaches her, Y/n has already placed a few strawberries into a plastic baggie and is looking for a few more to round off her purchase. And he settles on the very measly and shamefully uneventful; “hey.”

Surprised, Y/n jumps slightly and twists to face him, eyes going wide. “Andy, oh my gosh, hey.” She hesitates for a moment before reaching out for a hug that becomes quite a clumsy endeavor. They don’t seem to know each other as well as they used to; he can’t tell if she’s reaching for his neck or midsection, so their limbs get tangled in a strange manner. “Sorry,” she mumbles bashfully when the whole thing goes on for longer than any ‘I haven’t seen you in five years’ hug should take.

Shrugging off the unwarranted apology, Andrew stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans in an effort to keep himself from touching her again. “How have you been?” He tries to sound nonchalant, but his gaze drips to her left hand, looking for any sign of a ring. And when there isn’t one, he feels a knot in his chest loosen a little.

“I’ve been….” Y/n trails off, as if the question is the hardest one she’s been asked in a while. In some ways, she supposes it is. Is she supposed to lie to Andrew? Tell him she’s fine and happy and her life is going fantastically well when the truth is she hasn’t been able to scrub the memory of him from her mind and she still buys his favorite brand of tea because when it brews, the smell makes her house feel a little more like home. “I’ve been alright,” its something between the truth and any lie she can tell; she is alright. Alive and healthy, if only a little sad sometimes – but who isn’t, right? “You?”

Andrew fumbles with his words, he’s not sure why but the question feels almost taunting. Why would she throw that back to him? Why wouldn’t she just assume that she’s stowed the best of him into a box and taken it along with her? Everyone else sees it, they tell him he hasn’t looked the same since she left, that he talks differently and he’s truly a little depressing to be around sometimes. “I’m…..okay.” Just okay – not good, not bad, but somewhere in limbo, surviving.

At his response, Y/n nods absently. God, he wishes he knew what that meant. He wishes he still knew her well enough to know what anything she does means. There used to be things that only he understood about Y/n. There’s a version of her in his mind that still whispers in the dark, even if they’re the only people in the room, and ensures all the cutlery in the drawer is packed in the same direction. There’s a version of her that might have tilted her head at his response, and told him that she knows that ‘okay’ is never just ‘okay.’

But this is someone else, someone he doesn’t know. But he loves her anyway.

He’ll love every version of her. But at least he’s only lost one.

“You’re probably the last person I’d expect to run into, here especially,” but maybe she doesn’t really know him that well anymore. Maybe he goes to the farmer’s market every Sunday now and they’ve just been missing each other.

Maybe he goes with his girlfriend - a wife even -and right now she's at another vendor. She's going to be back soon. And she'll be beautiful and Y/n will think; no wonder he let me go so easily, because he knew there was better was out there.

Shaking off the unsettling thought, Y/n adds, “you used to get everything at the grocery store.”

“You used to grow everything yourself,” he notes, not maliciously though. It's really just an innocent observation; he wonders why she stopped.

“I guess…..we’ve changed,” Y/n muses, and a little sliver of her wonders if they’ve changed enough to make it work for a second time around.

“Not too much, I hope,” but what he really means to say is; ‘I hope we’re still the kind of people that can love each other.’ “Ehm,” he clears his throat softly, and finally gathers the courage to ask what he’d been thinking about since he discreetly examined her finger, “seeing anyone?”

What a question! Simultaneously, it makes her want to laugh and cry. “Not right now, no.” Of course, she’s seen other people since their break-up, but nothing ever sticks, and that might be because every man is now measured to Andrew; does it taste the same when they kiss her? Hold her hand the way he used to? Do they tell the same sort of jokes or thread their fingers through her hair before falling asleep? “What about you?”

Andrew waves his hand dismissively, “no one serious,” there isn't really anyone at all, but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s a complete wreck and one more white lie can’t hurt.

“Good,” the word slips out almost without thought, and Y/n quickly shakes her head when Andrew arches a brow. He isn't supposed to know that she's relieved; that he just quashed one of her biggest fears - that there's another woman that knows him as well as she does, but couldn't love him half as much, “well....not good. Just you know….you’re good at being on your own,” he was pretty damn good on his own even when they lived in the same house, “so I’m sure you’re doing good,” god, she wishes she had stopped talking three minutes ago.

Hesitating, he bites his tongue as the urge to tell her that he's not okay and it's all her fault wells up. Didn’t she see the lie in his eyes when he said he was okay? Is he that much of a stranger to her now?

Again, Andrew shrugs halfheartedly, “I’ve been okay,” he repeats before pressing his lips into a thin line. He doesn’t trust himself to add anything more, because then he’ll say he still misses her and its been far too long for him to still be mourning an empty side of the bed and the sound of her laughter in the drawing room.

He shouldn’t still go into his home studio and still expect her to come trailing after him, armed with a book with the intention of curling up on the sofa that gets just the right amount of noon sun. He shouldn't miss the way she looks while humming along softly to what he's working on, blanket draped on her folded legs, hazy light washing her face - he shouldn’t have left her blanket there after all this time.

He shouldn’t even be thinking about it, because the more he does, the more he wants to tell her. Beg Y/n to come back – to take him back because he’s really only half himself without her.

“I should let you –”

“You probably have –”

“Sorry.” Another clumsy, awkward apology, this one in aching unison. There’s silence for a while, and Y/n tugs her lower lip between her teeth. In a way, it feels like they’ve been standing there for too long, at least, like this. Not knowing what to say to each other, with the nails of her free hand digging into her palm so she doesn’t reach out to touch his arm. It shouldn’t be like this, she never wanted them to come to this; reduced to two awfully familiar strangers. “I should um….I have to….go…” She goes to say home, but the word doesn’t come, “I gotta go, Andrew.”

Swallowing the lump that’s been caught in his throat since he first saw fifteen minutes earlier, Andrew nods stiffly. “Of course,” he breathes. The last thing he wants is for her to leave, but he doesn’t really have any right to keep her. “I’ll leave you to it.” They both nod that time, shy and unsure but no one leaves. Not immediately. His eyes stay matching hers, and there’s a hundred things weighing down the tip of his tongue, but clinging to it like molten sugar.

I'm sorry I let you walk out, I'm sorry about everything. I still keep your ring in my nightstand, just in case. My mom still asks about you. I should've been better, let you in and I know that now. I'd do it now. I'm actually horrible on my own now, because you've ruined me in the best way - and the worst. But he doesn't say any of it; the moment is long gone and his pride does a pretty good job at keeping him quiet.

A shuddered breath escapes her lips upon realizing that she actually hasn’t moved an inch; Y/n doesn’t think she can be the one to bring herself to leave this time. She doesn't want to turn her back to him again. So she lingers, and she swears roots are sprouting from the soles of her feet, keeping her in place, staring into his eyes because lost in them is suddenly the only place she wants to be.

“I should go,” he eventually determines, glancing away. Though, the minute he says it, Andrew is lashed with immediate regret; he does not want to go. He doesn’t want to leave, but he suspects that this time its entirely on him to turn around and walk away.

“Right, right,” Y/n blinks quickly, then, just as he’s about to turn, she interjects, if only for the purpose of holding him there a little longer, “it was really nice seeing you.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything, not right then. Though, when he turns away and starts retreating to the other end of the small tent, squinting his eyes at the midday sun, catching him square in the face, he pauses. Throwing a cautious backwards glance her way, he finds that Y/n has returned to picking out strawberries and on a whim, Andrew finally allows himself a singular moment of weakness – perhaps in a way of giving her what she’s wanted since their very last fight. “I’ve missed you,” he utters.

Y/n’s head snaps up just as she hands the bag over to the vendor for weighting, “what?” Her brows are furrowed and her lips are slightly agape.

Hating the sudden vulnerability that comes with those three little words, he shakes his head, “nothing. I’ll see you around,” he spares her a short wave, and she does the same.

After that, not a single word is traded between them again; Y/n pays, plops the bag into her basket, and walks off, and he watches her go. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest as she weaves her way through the busy market, and there’s a strange sort of finality in the moment where the last inkling of her green jacket disappears.

What if he never sees her again? What if that moment, in that tent, surrounded by fruits honeyed by summer’s warmth and the bitter heartache of something unfinished, constitutes the last fifteen minutes they will ever share?

What if she’s gone from his life forever and he’s damned to an eternity spent looking at her pictures and never hearing her voice again? Wondering what she’s doing and if she’s finally moved on from him?

Can he survive it? Truly? Without feeling like a shell just being shuffled around by the wind?

Returning to the assortment of ruby-toned apples, he struggles to escape the onslaught in his mind and Andrew finds himself unable to choose any, not even one, so he goes with strawberries instead.

To be continued.....

[jjtheresidentbaby]

Hi! I just saw that you’re doing obx fix’s now and I’m so happy! I was wondering if you could do one with cg!Rafe Cameron and a little!reader, where the reader stayed up all night playing and they are very sleepy. If you can, could you make it very cute and fluffy?

It’s totally fine if you can’t write it!

Btw, I love your fics!

˚. ❝₊˚ 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 ❞ ˚₊·

» rafe cameron x reader

» a/n: ah sorry this got a tad angsty, i swear i can’t write rafe without it turning angst *stares at all my wips with him*

» warnings: slight angst, rafe being insecure, pet names

“Here you go sweetheart.” Rafe smiles as he slides a plate of pancakes over to you from the other side of the island in the tannyhill kitchen. You rub at your eyes and nod in thanks, still tired from not going to bed when you were supposed to last night but waking up at your normal time.

“You okay?” There’s already a furrow of worry in Rafe’s brow, his voice soft but concerned in full. It’s always been easy to tell when Rafe gets worried about you, his go-to emotion with anyone else is anger but with you it’s different, you get his vulnerable side.

“I’m tired.” You huff and stare at the cut up pancakes on your plate, feeling slightly guilty for not eating them when Rafe had spent the morning cooking for you.

“I guess you did go to bed pretty late last night, you don’t have to eat if you don’t want to.” Rafe assures and plucks the plate from its place in front of you, slipping it into the fridge and instead pulling out a reusable bottle of water he keeps on hand for you. You don’t know when the bottle got bought or what prompted Rafe to get you your own bottle instead of just grabbing one from the cabinets, but you won’t ask, there’s no need to, the fact that he did it is more than enough.

“Do you wanna go lay on the couch? We can watch a movie, have a chill day.” Despite how nonchalant Rafe is trying to sound, you can tell he’s studying your every move to see if something else is wrong or if he’s the one doing something wrong.

He’s been hesitant about taking care of you in certain ways, always checking to make sure that you’re okay, second guessing things under his own anxiety that he’s messed it up, trying to do things perfectly in fear of you leaving and finding a new caregiver because he slipped up. It’ll never be the case and you’ve told Rafe both when little and big that you don’t care if things are perfect, you just want him, in any way shape or form. You think in the past few months he’s been getting better at accepting what you say as truth, but times like this you can see the insecurities poking through.

“Yeah, movie.” Once you have the bottle of water securely in your hands, Rafe comes to scoop you onto his hip. You happily take the physical contact and lean your cheek onto his chest, breathing in his familiar pine scented cologne and snuggling against the soft sleep shirt he still has on.

“The normal?” He asks and sits down on the couch without putting you down, content to hold you throughout the movie- and if he’s being honest it’ll be easier to put you down on a bed if you fall asleep this way, avoids the risk of waking you up by picking you up.

“Yeah.” Your favorite movie is already queued up on the Tv, as it has been since the second week of Rafe stepping in as your caregiver, it’s a small detail but it always makes you smile.

“You can go to sleep, little one.” His hand reaches to lay on the back of your head, thumb rubbing back and forth against your hair as you nod along.

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to slip shut and for Rafe to pull a blanket from the back of the couch around your shoulders. You can feel how he relaxes against the back of the couch once you’ve sunk farther into his chest, finally accepting that being tired really was the only issue. You find it fascinating how expressive Rafe’s body language can be without him knowing, how much him being calm makes you calm, how your body naturally leans into his when you know he needs it and that he subconsciously does the same. It’s a comfort you don’t find with other people, you cherish it with Rafe even if it is just the two of you falling asleep on the couch for an afternoon.