#i needed a little bit of fluff because i’m still so devastated

[catholickedd]

imagine aziraphale ran back to crowley.

imagine instead of “i forgive you,”

he said “i love you.”

imagine they went off together, to alpha centauri.

imagine they still check up on the child they helped raise, every once in a while. and warlock is so happy to see them again, together.

imagine gabriel and beelzebub are the annoying neighbors who invite themselves over for dinner and stay too long even after they’ve gotten many hints to leave.

imagine they dance, a proper slow dance, in the living room, while nightingales sing on aziraphale’s old record player.

imagine they come and see adam. imagine adam asks if they’re married.

imagine the look they share.

imagine the proposal. done by aziraphale. on one quiet night, he takes him out to look at the stars. covers him with his wing as it begins to rain. holds his hand. asks him to marry him.

imagine the wedding. demons and angels and humans alike, dancing together. (hastur and ligur and gabriel and beelzdbub and michael and uriel were NOT invited. they found their way there anyway.)

imagine aziraphale and crowley, sharing “i love you”s before bed, getting drunk and kissing, dining at the ritz and laughing and smiling and being together.

just the two of them.

their happy ending.

[felibrary]

╭──╯ABOUT YOU

PAIRING: sae itoshi x reader

SYNOPSIS: when sae left for spain you were devastated. but suddenly, half a decade later as the sae itoshi; japan's prized possession and football prodigy, stands on your doorstep, realization hits you: you are in love with him.

wordcount: guess | content & warnings: unestablished relationship, both are bad at communicating their feelings in their teens, sae nonchalant era, fluff ; oneshot

author's note: yes i didn't watch bllk season 2 yet, so what??1?1??1 my wonderful babe still needs a fic, hard to believe i never wrote a single one for him

“i’m leaving for spain”

sae doesn't think he'll ever forget this moment; forget the expression that you made as soon as he quietly murmured those words.

how his bedsheets rustled as you immediately got up, the way your sudden movements left creases in his once neatly duvet, and how the blue artificial flavored water from the popsicle dripped down on his bed as you tightly gripped it in your hand.

from initially laying next to him on his childhood bed and watching the ceiling fan spin around in circular movements while sucking on popsicles, to you turning and staring at him in disbelief — it all happened in the span of a few minutes — too fast for either of you to comprehend.

as if the humid summer air wasn't already unbearable enough, the impact of those words had somehow made the atmosphere even more suffocating.

outside there were cicadas who were continuously humming melodies, and the sound the fan-blades created as they spun around made it all seem like another day during summer break.

for a moment everything was how it used to be a few minutes ago; how every summer passed by ever since he can think and remember.

the way you visited his house every day early in the morning — rang his doorbell twice in a row and how he groggily opened it every time you came over as he, barely awake, listened to what adventurous hangout you planned for today.

his mother ushering him to take rin with him to go along as you dragged them to the beach and stayed there for hours. playing, taunting and teasing, and laughing until the sky was enveloped in an orange-pink hue.

building sandcastles like in your kindergarten days, splashing each other full of water until the three of you went to the local convenience store with clothes drenched in saltwater to buy a pack of popsicles, and betting who'd receive one of the “winner popsicles”.

(in all honesty sae always found it a bit childish as he grew older, but seeing the triumphant grin on his little brother's face as he won and how he stuck his tongue out to you, made him crack a small smile.)

and how the days always ended the same: you and sae on his bed, sucking on popsicles as you watched the ceiling fan twirl around in repetitive circular motions. sometimes while talking about what you want to do tomorrow, future plans or sometimes even spending those times in complete and utter silence.

yeah, it's normal for the two of you to stay silent for a while. sae thinks as you don't respond and momentarily everything is just like how it's supposed to be. nothing’s wrong, it's just your normal summer day. an average, regular and peaceful afternoon during summer.

but to his dismay, that illusion of his quickly gets shattered. “when?” you whisper quietly, as if not daring to say it out loud. sae purses his lips, opening his mouth only to close it after a quick moment which surprises him.

was he scared? no that can't be. he wasn't scared when he told his parents and rin because he knew that they'd support him — they knew he was going to be just fine — he knew he was going to be just fine without them.

but you?

sae gulps down the heavy lump in his throat before coughing, preparing to say something — anything. “at the end of summer break, so in a week or so,” he states nonchalantly, as if it were as simple as that. (it wasn't)

although he should've anticipated your reaction — should've known that you weren't pleased at all about it, it still caught him off guard. “and you didn't bother to tell me until now?”

“i didn't think it was important,” he mutters.

“not important, you say? sae, we're best friends. do you mean to tell me that ‘it's not important’ to tell your best friend that you're leaving for god knows how long,” you retort with slight anger in your voice.

“no, that's not—” sae wanted to explain himself; he wanted to tell you that he didn't want to leave you behind, and the fact that he only told you now was because he didn't know how to bring it up — he didn't want to ruin your day and see your smile falter.

he sighs and settles for a curt “just forget it, i’ll be gone in a week, it's been planned for months now and nothing will change it anyway,” it's far from the thing he initially wanted to say, but does it matter now?

sae sees the way your eyebrows furrow in irritation, how you open your mouth to say something but eventually you just scoff and look away. “yeah, whatever,”

a week has passed ever since he told you that he'd leave and ever since then you didn't reach out, and neither did he.

from continuous door-ringing everyday to a silent house; it's been long since the itoshi’s family home has been this quiet. only the sound of water splashing out of the sink and onto the porcelain dishes was audible, sometimes accompanied by the sound of his mother's humming.

“sae, did something happen between you and [name]?” his mother asks offhandedly, not noticing sae who was peacefully playing with his little brother, immediately stiffening.

for a moment sae didn't know what to say, because technically nothing happened. just a small miscommunication between friends, you'd be over it soon anyway. after all you knew about his plans now, so no need to be mad, right? “no, not really. i’m just busy with packing and stuff, and they didn't really text me either, so i guess we've both been really occupied”

“is that so? today, just a bit earlier, they came over, it looked like they contemplated ringing the doorbell but then left as quickly as they came,” his mother chuckled as she turned off the sink and sat onto the sofa to watch him and rin. “you saw them too, right rin?”

sae turns to rin, eyes wide and full of anticipation. “oh, yeah. i think [name] also came over yesterday and the day before yesterday,” rin murmurs. “i asked them why they wouldn't ring and they looked shocked to see me, but then only told me not to tell you that they were here and left.” he turned to his older brother to look at him, big cerulean doe eyes searching for answers.

sae hisses, and fishes his phone out of the pockets of his sweatpants, opening your chat and messaging you.

sae: let's meet tomorrow, 5 pm at the beach

you: ?

you: mind explaining what's going on?

sae: just come there tomorrow

sae: please?

you: fine

in all honesty, you had no idea what sae had planned. his messages came out of the blue after not reaching out for an entire week.

it wasn't hard to spot sae, his red hair shone brightly in the setting evening sun. “you're early for once,” you note as you sit down beside him.

sae looks up and you'd be lying if you said that the small smile he gives you didn't make your knees wobble a bit, still you didn't come here to fawn over your best friend.

“so what’d you want to talk about?” you ask.

sae's quiet for a moment, looking confused. “i thought you wanted to talk about something. rin told me that you came over but didn't have the guts to ring, so i thought i’d do you a favor,”

was he being for real now..?

you get up, irritated. “if this was the reason you invited me i’ll just go. have fun in spain” but before you're able to fully stand up sae grabs you by your wrist. “wait,” and you look at him, questioningly.

“what, wait?”

“let's talk it out,”

the way he says it so softly and that determination that those stupid cerulean eyes of his hold, almost makes you falter completely. “if it weren't for the fact that you're my best friend, i would've left,” you mutter in (faux) annoyance.

sae doesn't respond and only smiles. “sorry, that i didn't tell you earlier about me leaving. i thought it'd ruin the mood, because you always seemed so happy about the stuff you planned.”

(and i didn't have the heart to tell you about it, out of fear that things between you and me become awkward afterwards,)

you let out a huff of relief. “that's really sweet and thoughtful of you, i did notice that there was something that you wanted to get off your chest but i didn't know how to approach it or urge you to talk about it,”

for the first time this afternoon you take a proper look at him, how his turquoise eyes are intently watching you and suddenly you feel small under sae's gaze.

“admittedly, i do think i would've been a bit sad, but still we could've just used that remaining time to make great memories,” this time you return his smile and sae exhales.

“yeah, maybe you're right,”

“sae, what are you doing here?”

in front of you stood sae itoshi. japan’s football genius; its most valuable player — your best friend.

well, former best friend.

saying his name felt weird because the last time you remember saying it aloud was when you were a teenager.

clinging onto sae, and hugging him tightly before his flight departed and bidding goodbye as he exited through the gates.

after that sae barely texted or called you — he wasn't big of a texter anyway, but the only times he's ever messaged you was on your birthday, new years and his birthday as he thanked you for your wishes and congratulations.

contact “officially” broke after a few years, the little messages and short calls turned into none at all. the only times you ever saw sae was on some interviews on tv or magazines at the grocery store.

“can i come in?” he looks at you through low lidded eyes, before looking behind you. his voice got deeper and hoarse. you think to yourself.

you don't respond — unable to come up with an answer to provide him. what does one even say when your best friend comes back after five years without any announcement beforehand? sae takes your silence as an answer — yes, and walks by you into the living room.

there are a bunch of questions running through your head. “how have you been?”, “why didn't you text me?”, “was it hard to adjust to your new surroundings?” but none of these questions leave your mouth, instead you trail after sae into the living room where you spot him sitting on your couch.

“nothing’s changed,” he notes as he looks around. you sit yourself down the sofa, although a few inches away from him. “yeah, me and my surroundings might've not changed but that doesn't apply to you,” you remark.

sae remains silent but if you were to look more closely you could see that the corners of his mouth are twitching. “tell me sae, what made you think it's okay to come here after a period of no contact? without telling me how you've been, without telling me that you'd come over,” irritation is written all over your face, but you don't care, you just need answers.

“also, wouldn't one normally visit their family first, instead of ones—” best friend lies on the tip of your tongue but is that really the relationship you have with sae? “— best friend?” said person who's been plaguing your mind for the past few minutes now, finishes your sentence.

“sorry?” you're caught off guard, because not in a hundred years would you've thought that sae itoshi would ever verbally announce you as his best friend.

“you wanted to ask me if it isn't unusual if one visits their best friend first, instead of their family right?” sae asks. “yeah pretty much,”

he exhales, “i already visited rin. i told him to get his priorities straight,” usually you'd ask what he meant by that, but you have the feeling that you maybe shouldn't this time and settle to answer him with a small hum of acknowledgement.

“also shouldn't it be clear why i'm here? i wanted to see you,” sae says it as if it's the easiest thing in the world — as if it's crystal clear, and states it like it's the obvious. “i missed you,”

if someone would've told you that sae itoshi missed you five years ago, you would've laughed and brushed it off, reasoning it that sae isn't one to say sappy things.

stupid sae and the ways he makes you sway.

but here you are, experiencing it first hand and feeling how your heart races. still there were so many unanswered questions and as much as you wanted to hug him again, feel how his body molds against yours, you know that you couldn't — at least not yet.

“miss me, my ass. at some point you just didn't bother to reach out anymore,” you scoff. “do you know how hurt i was?” you whisper through gritted teeth.

“let's talk it out, okay?” you feel a sudden wave of deja vu washing over you, as if you've already had this conversation once before.

“if you weren't my best friend, i wouldn't hear you out,” you murmur under your breath.

sae inches closer to you, taking your hand in his and pats over it. this is so ridiculous. the sae you knew would’ve never done this. this is strange and a change but..a pleasant change?

just for this once you'll let someone into your heart so easily again, this is an exception — sae's the only one who'll you allow to do some bullshit but still welcome with open arms again.

“fine,” you mutter before burying your head into his nape and your arms sneak around his torso.

a feeling so familiar, so right.

“i missed you too.”

end note: reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 + tagging @azullumi hey fartzul. there are many times when i re-read your messages to reassure myself, knowing that there's someone out there who supports me regardless of what. tbh, i think those messages really strengthened our bond and i love that. i love how we're able to communicate so well with one another <3. + i hope with the messages i send you im able to make you feel loved enough; that im able to provide you that love that some people weren't able to give you, so that you feel appreciated enough and know that the things that you do for others don't go to waste. your heart is so pure, i love you more than anything.

© FELIBRARY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[lxvsiick]

GONNA BE A ROCK | PARK SUNGHO X READER

PAIRING: best friends! park sungho x best friends! fem! reader

SUMMARY: Y/n breaks up with Sungho because he keeps stealing her stickers and 10 years later, he's still bitter.

GENRE: best friends, 10 year old breakup, fluff

WORDCOUNT: 1k

A/N: i wrote this while listening to GONNA BE A ROCK by BOYNEXTDOOR -- i was going to make this longer and elaborate more on the sungho being bitter part throughout their friendship but i kinda got lazy ... anyways, enjoy!

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Like a seven-year-old kid who lost their toy

I cry even in front of my parents, I know it ain't right

The sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows over the playground as Y/n and Sungho sat on the swings, lazily kicking at the dirt beneath them. They had been best friends for what felt like forever, and recently, they had decided—after some playground chatter—that they were "dating." It mostly involved sharing snacks and stickers, except for one problem: Sungho kept stealing Y/n's favorite stickers.

Y/n glanced at him with a mock-serious expression, arms crossed over her chest. “We need to talk.”

Sungho looked over, confused but still smiling. “What’s up?”

She huffed, trying to sound more grown-up than she was. “You keep taking my stickers, and I’m not okay with that.”

He blinked, his feet dragging to a stop on the dirt. “I don’t take that many.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “You took my sparkly unicorn yesterday. And the shiny dolphin the day before that!”

He shifted awkwardly on his swing, kicking at a pebble. “I was just borrowing them...”

She sighed dramatically, standing up from the swing. “Well, I’ve made up my mind. I think we should break up.”

Sungho froze, his jaw dropping in disbelief. “Break up?!”

She nodded, hands on her hips like she was making a very important decision. “Yep. I can’t be with someone who steals my stickers.”

He stood up, his heart breaking in the only way a 10-year-old’s could. “But... but I’m your boyfriend! You can’t just break up with me over stickers!”

She shrugged casually. “I just did.”

Sungho felt a wave of childish devastation wash over him. “But I was gonna give you my glow-in-the-dark dinosaur sticker tomorrow!”

She paused for a moment, clearly tempted by the offer. But she shook her head. “Nope, sorry. It’s too late. We’re not dating anymore.”

He groaned dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “This is the worst day ever! You’re breaking up with me over stickers!”

Y/n tried to keep a straight face but ended up giggling. “You’ll be fine. We’re still best friends, just... not boyfriend and girlfriend.”

He stared at her, hands on his hips now, as bitterness started to creep into his voice. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me when you want to trade stickers again. I’ll just say no!”

She stuck out her tongue playfully. “I don’t need your stickers anymore. I’ll just ask Seeun.”

His eyes widened. “Seeun?! She doesn’t even have cool stickers!”

Y/n shrugged, clearly having the upper hand. “We’ll see about that.”

He huffed, turning around dramatically and stomping off towards the monkey bars. “I don’t care! I don’t even want to date you anymore!”

She giggled again but called after him, “See you tomorrow?”

Sungho paused, then grumbled, “Yeah, whatever,” before running off to vent his frustration on the jungle gym. His heart might have been “broken,” but they both knew that nothing would really change—except, of course, the status of their “relationship.”

As he climbed the monkey bars, he muttered under his breath, “Stupid stickers…”

And so, they stayed best friends, but from that day on, Sungho remained just a little bit bitter about the whole breakup.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

If I could go back to the beginning, I would leave you

Even though it's impossible, I'd dump you first

The soft glow of the TV flickered in the background, but neither Y/n nor Sungho were paying attention. They were sprawled out on the couch, her legs draped over his lap as they scrolled through their phones. The familiar comfort of their shared apartment wrapped around them like a warm blanket, the quiet hum of city life outside barely noticeable.

After a long stretch of silence, Y/n let out a chuckle, her eyes lighting up as she glanced at him. “Remember when I broke up with you when we were 10?”

Sungho paused, his thumb hovering over his phone screen, and shot her a playful glare. “Oh, I remember. You dumped me over stickers.”

She grinned, shifting to sit up a little. “You kept stealing them!”

He raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with mock bitterness. “If I could go back, I’d break up with you first. Save myself the heartbreak.”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah right. You were obsessed with me even back then.”

He dramatically sighed, leaning back into the couch cushions, his hand resting on her leg. “Well, I did go home and cry to my parents about it. You tore my heart open, and I swore I’d never like anyone else.”

Y/n giggled, nudging him with her foot. “Oh, please! I didn’t ‘tear your heart open’—I just wanted my sparkly unicorn stickers back.”

He leaned forward, eyes wide in mock outrage. “You don’t understand! It was traumatic! I was ten, in love, and you crushed me with one sentence.”

She was laughing harder now, clutching her stomach. “I’m sorry, okay? But to be fair, you were a terrible boyfriend. You stole my favorite stickers.”

“I wasn’t a terrible boyfriend,” he said, crossing his arms and looking away dramatically. “I was a great boyfriend who just had a thing for shiny stickers.”

“Well,” she teased, reaching over to pinch his arm playfully, “you’ve improved a lot since then.”

He turned back to her, a soft smile replacing his exaggerated bitterness. “Thanks. But seriously, you wrecked me. I couldn’t look at a sticker again without thinking of my first heartbreak.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “And yet here we are.”

“Yeah,” he said, his playful tone giving way to something more genuine. “Here we are.”

For a moment, they sat quietly, the laughter fading into a comfortable silence. Sungho squeezed her leg lightly and gave her a teasing smirk. “But, just so you know, I’m still a little bitter about it.”

She laughed, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “You’ll get over it eventually.”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning into the kiss, “but I’m not making any promises.”

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[1d1195]

Dolcezza VI

Read Dolcezza here.

Warnings: fluff, angst--lots of it. I know we're all waiting on the big reveal or whatever based on my cliff hanger but you're going to have to wait a little bit 😊

~8.4k words

The sun coming through the blinds outlined her like the angel she really was, and Harry was sure there were cartoon hearts floating around his head as he gazed at her.

“Do you want me to get Harry?” Niall asked.

“No!” She nearly shouted. Niall blinked in surprise. She cleared her throat and her face warmed as Harry’s best friend looked at her like she was nuts. She honestly felt a little crazy and she prayed to God the man up front didn’t hear her and give away that she was slowly losing her mind. “No, no... it’s... he’s not doing anything wrong,” if she lied to herself enough, maybe the problem would go away.

“He’s allowed to be in the same place as you?” Niall’s eyebrows rose half-way up his forehead. Obviously, he hated this.

If Niall hated this... she hated to think what Harry would do.

She shrugged one shoulder as casually as she could manage, then nodded. “It’s only fifty feet,” she murmured.

“You know the dimensions of this place?” Surprise and distaste were evident in his tone.

She swallowed the figurative rock that had wedged itself in her throat. She tried to take a deep breath as quietly and shallowly as possible. She could still feel his gaze on her back. He had to know she was terrified, and she didn’t want to give him any more excitement into knowing she was scared. “You learn to measure 50 feet by sight,” she mumbled.

“Tesorino, please let me tell Harry,” Niall begged.

She shook her head rapidly, feeling the intensity of his stare never faltering. “Niall, please. He’ll worry and it’s—”

“I’m worried,” he admitted, speaking lowly so only she could hear.

There was thick exasperation in her sigh. “Please don’t. It’s fine. He’s just...there.”

Niall answered her sigh with his own angry, frustrated one. “Tesorino, Harry would lose his mind. Worse, he would be devastated if you didn’t tell him. He’s already probably going to hate me for waiting this long to tell him and it’s only been three minutes. Please let me tell him.” She didn’t say anything. But Niall could see the exhaustion on her face. This couldn’t be easy for her. None of it. On top of a long day with her crazy family and car trouble. Niall thought she was brave just for being upright. “Tesorino,” he repeated leaning close. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on for hours but couldn’t have been more than ten seconds. Niall was doing his best not to stare back in the offending direction.

She had to say yes. Niall needed her to say yes. He didn’t know what would happen if she said no. He couldn’t imagine looking his best friend in the eye and keeping that from him. Not when he knew how much he adored this sweet girl. Niall was equally terrified. Over the months she lived above his workplace and stole his best friend’s heart, she turned out to be one of the funniest and best people he knew. He loved her in a way Harry didn’t. Because he adored her like a sister he never had and like the best-friend-in-law he already assumed she’d be, he couldn’t stand the thought of her getting hurt. He was ready to throw himself over the bar and stand in front of her if needed.

He held his breath for the ten seconds she paused. Waiting wordlessly, panicked that he would have to ruin his relationship with her if she said no. There was no way he wasn’t telling Harry.

Fortunately, she nodded. The slightest headshake. He knew it probably took a lot out of her to say she needed help. It wasn’t lost on him, and he hoped he could convince Harry to see it that way. He released a breath for about as long as he held it. “Thank you, Tesorino,” Niall sighed with relief. “Harry!” He shouted, starting back for the kitchen.

She grabbed his hand right as it lifted off the bar before he made his way to Harry. He turned his attention back to her. Her hand squeezing his gently. “Please don’t leave me alone,” she whispered, her voice small.

Niall’s heart broke right in half. “Fuck,” What an idiot. “Of course not, Tesorino,” he promised and covered her hand with his other and squeezed it back with a gentle smile. It was meant to be encouraging but he was afraid it was filled with pity.

“I was looking for you. S’matter?” Harry asked, stepping up to the kitchen window. His hand zoomed in on Niall’s touching hers. Her gaze dropped to the bar already feeling like she was in trouble. “Oh...hey, Principessa. Y’okay?” Niall turned, still holding her hand giving it a reassuring squeeze as he faced Harry. Never once letting go. Patrons at the bar beside her were staring every so often at the weird chain she and Niall made as he spoke to Harry—it couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds. But the only thing she could really sense was the gaze at her back. It killed her to stay facing forward. It felt like the hardest thing in the world.

Niall spoke quietly. The din of the restaurant covering the noise of his words. Words that she didn’t want to hear and words that made her feel sick. She felt hot and scared.

Not to mention, completely defeated.

She couldn’t look up to see the disappointment on Harry’s face.

Suddenly there was a hand on her back, and she was startled so badly she let a tiny yelp out of her throat before Harry’s cologne invaded her nose. Before she could jolt her head back Harry’s lips were right near her ear. If anyone heard her, they paid no mind. She could almost feel his lips touching her earlobe as he spoke. The hand on her back pressed gently and soothingly against her spine. “S’time t’go Principessa,” he murmured lowly.

It was one of the only times in her life that she could remember letting someone else take charge and worry about her. It scared her almost as much as feeling the gaze of her stalker on the back of her head.

*

The poor thing must have whispered sorry about ten thousand times. It broke Harry’s heart. Especially after the nice day he had with her. He thought he had broken down a ton of walls and was excited to kiss her until she was breathless when he brought her back to her place.

Now they were in the kitchen strategizing, or at least, Niall and Harry were. The three settled by the lockers for the staff, sitting on the little bench. Harry was pacing nervously while Niall tapped on the bench with his fingertips while thinking. The rest of the staff ignored them. They were getting close to closing the kitchen down anyway, so Niall wasn’t needed as much, and Harry wasn’t even supposed to be there.

She was sitting mutely beside Niall, feeling like an idiot for believing this wouldn’t catch up to her. It had been a blissful, almost year. She was hopeful he was just gone, found someone new to bother. Or something else... anything but this. Harry was pacing listening to Niall trying to get an idea of what was happening up at the front of the restaurant by asking one of the waiters to keep an eye on that table and let them know when the guy there left. Harry had his hands pressed to his lips, steepled in front of him.

“Principessa,” Harry said putting a hand on her shoulder making her jump again. “What do y’think?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I’m... I’m so sorry. I wasn’t focused, can you—”

Niall smiled at her sympathetically. “S’okay, Tesorino,” he promised reaching over and squeezing her knee soothingly. “Harry—but also very much me, too—would feel more comfortable if you stayed at our place.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Trying to sound braver than she felt. Which was albeit very little. “It’s probably not that big of a deal... I can stay in my apartment. I wouldn’t want to put either of you out or—”

Harry sighed and tilted his head back. It was obvious he was frustrated. Maybe even... angry... at her. “S’not a problem, Principessa,” his voice was clipped. Irritated.

She felt like everything that she talked about with Harry today was ruined. She looked at her hands in her lap. Fiddling with the thumb ring she bought she spun it around and around below her knuckle. “We’d feel safer with you at our place,” Niall was a little calmer than Harry. She envied that. Wished she could be calmer. Harry looked like he was going to rip the hair out of his head. He ran a hand over his face. The waiter came by to report that the man was gone, and all three sighed with relief.

“Can I get some stuff?” She asked quietly.

Niall tutted sadly. It really felt like she was in trouble at school. Harry looked so worried but immensely... mad. An emotion she hadn’t seen on his sweet features once in the nine months she had known him. “Course, Tesorino,” Niall nodded easily. “Harry will take you up to get whatever you need.”

*

Harry was silent the entire drive. Further making it feel like everything that was and could have been between them was ruined. He didn’t even hold her hand. It was completely unfair because she had spent many car rides without his hand in hers and it wasn’t a big deal. Now, after one day, it felt cold and horrible. It felt wrong and made her want to hold his hand so very badly in an attempt to fix it.

The time she spent packing was tense and silent too. Harry didn’t rush her, but he may as well have had a timer. It felt like everything she did was wrong and awful. She also packed way too much stuff which added to her stress. It looked like she was going on vacation for a whole week and that had to be overwhelming for Harry. For all she knew, he wanted to make out with her and maybe start dating. Not have her move in immediately.

Due to her frustrated daydreaming, she didn’t realize they were parked in a driveway. Niall had gotten a ride home from Antonio just a little before them, so he was able to do a scan ahead of time and sent a reassuring text that it was all safe to enter. She opened her door and Harry leaned across her immediately and pulled it shut. She turned to him, her expression a bit bewildered.

He got out of the car wordlessly and came to her side where he opened the door for her. He smiled weakly. The first sign of her Harry in an hour. “S’my job t’open doors for you, Principessa,” he murmured.

Her heart fluttered. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she answered because she didn’t know what else to say to that. She stepped out of the car and Harry released a light chuckle. She could tell Harry was trying to be casual as he looked around. Luckily, the neighborhood was small. It would be obvious if there were an unknown car parked nearby. Or a stranger lurking in the shadows. Someone would have called the police for such a suspicion before Niall even noticed.

He grabbed her duffle bag from the back, and she pulled her backpack from the passenger floor and slid it on before they walked toward the house. Niall’s car was parked beside Harry’s. The house was adorable. Not too big. Just one story with a nice yard. Niall mentioned it was two bedrooms, two bathrooms. Of course, there was a big kitchen because it’s where Niall and Harry shined, and it was important they had one.

Even if they rarely used it since all their time was spent at the restaurant.

She jumped when the light turned on for the front steps. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered.

Harry smiled sadly. The poor thing. Harry let her inside first, peeking one last time over his shoulder grateful there was nothing out of place as he closed the door. The three seemed to sigh with relief as Niall closed the front door and locked it.

“Welcome home, Tesorino,” Niall winked. He yawned, stretched, and smiled sweetly. “Make yourself at home, but m’very tired.”

“Yeah, of course,” she nodded quickly. “I’m sorry—”

“Shh,” he hushed, shaking his head easily, and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Sleep well, love. S’all good,” he promised and shuffled down the hall.

She felt wildly uncomfortable. Poor Harry. This was not what he signed up for. “C’mon,” he hummed and started after Niall toward what she assumed was the hallway with the bedrooms and bathrooms.

Harry opened one door and flicked on the light. “S’my bathroom. Niall’s is connected t’his room, so if y’have t’use it, y’gotta go through his room. But be careful, he has laundry mountains,” he warned. She wanted to inspect it more. What kind of shower curtain did he choose? Did he pick out the hand towels himself? Was it annoying that when they had friends over, they had to use his bathroom?

She smiled. “I don’t see myself going through his room.”

“Jus’ letting you know,” he shrugged.

She frowned. The vibe was so incredibly tense. He was visibly mad. “This is my room,” he flicked on the light as he entered the door across the hall from the bathroom. It was pretty minimalist. A dresser, a bed, a nightstand, a desk. On top of his desk was a collection of books lined up and bookended by a pair of brackets shaped like a bicycle going through the books. His laptop and a picture of what she assumed was his mom and sister were next to the books, too. There was a closet along the front wall, and she felt the need to look in and see all of Harry’s clothes. Most of the time she saw him in his ever-present black kitchen ensemble. Today’s adventure was one of the only times she saw him in dark jeans and a long-sleeve Henley. She imagined there was more where that came from but still wanted to know. Or maybe he just used it as storage and dress shirts. But it was exactly the kind of thing she wanted to know because of the stress of the last hour.

The room was painted with a light color. It was almost white, but she swore there was a hint of yellow-almost-peach color hiding in there and she only knew that because she was staring at it trying to figure out what color it was. “Mum insisted on the color,” he rolled his eyes. “Said m’choice of dark blue was depressing.”

She smiled again thinking about how nice it was that he listened to his mom. His bedspread was dark navy, pulled to the top of the mattress with four fluffy pillows. It matched the area rug he had under the desk. All his furniture was dark brown in color. “Blue would have been too dark,” she agreed. He smirked and rolled his eyes. It eased the anxiety in her heart a little.

“Are y’tired?” He asked.

“Hmm?”

“Tired, Principessa?” He repeated and she wondered if he thought she was stupid now. It felt like she was stupid.

“Uh...yeah.”

Wordlessly, he opened two drawers grabbing a couple of things out of his dresser. Then he stole a pillow off the bed. “M’gonna let y’sleep, then,” he said. “Wake me up if y’need anything. M’usually up by eight at latest on the weekend. But wake me up if y’get up earlier,” he promised heading for the living room.

She shook her head as if all at once, her brain returned to her head after the last hour. “Where are you going?” She asked stepping into the hall watching his retreating figure. He looked so boyish, carrying a pillow at his side, dragging it like a little kid. It was adorable.

He turned around to her looking at her with confusion. “T’sleep, kitten,” he smirked with an eyeroll.

Her heart stopped and she felt flustered all over again. “On the couch?!” Her voice cracked.

“Uh... yeah?”

“Harry,” she shook her head. “I can’t... I can’t kick you out of your bed,” she said hurriedly. “I won’t sleep.”

He smiled softly and shrugged. “S’okay, Principessa. Want you t’be comfortable.”

“I will be so uncomfortable if you sleep out there while I’m in your bed,” he looked pretty resolute in his decision, and she thought she might lose this one. It made her feel horrible. And she wasn’t sure she was very-well brave enough to go follow him into the main room and cram herself against him on the sofa if he did make his way out there. “Harry,” she whined and twisted her fingers together anxiously. “Please, don’t,” she begged.

“Well s’no chance m’letting y’sleep on the couch, kitten. So... s’very limited in our options here.”

“You can sleep with me,” she said quickly. Then her face turned the same shade as a firetruck. Harry smirked and she put a hand over her eyes. Harry stepped back toward her.

“I can, hmm?” He asked with a lilt in his voice that sounded like her Harry. The one that teased her, soothed her, and made her feel like nothing bad could ever happen to her simply because he liked her so much.

She pulled her hand away from her blushing face. Harry was standing with just inches of space between them. Her head tilted back so she could look at him. His green eyes hooded by his eyelids, and she realized he looked damn near exhausted. As much as she wanted to make out with him, it seemed unfair. The car, her family, the driving, the stalker. It was all a lot for anyone to deal with and definitely not what Harry signed up for today.

Of course, he made it seem like it didn’t bother him, but even she was tired. She couldn’t imagine how he felt. “Er...” she swallowed. “I meant... your bed is big,” she murmured. “And when I’m tired, I sleep like a zombie,” she admitted. “I mean, I won’t move or roll around and get in your space.”

“Hmm...” she could feel the breath of his exhale across her cheeks. “What if I want you in my space?” He wondered. Her voice felt like it was dead. Gone completely. No longer there.

“You don’t hate me?” She managed to whisper. “Or think I’m annoying? Or want me out of your hair? I know this is more than what you ever wanted to deal with today. On a day off to boot.”

She watched him wince very minutely. A twinge of his lips, a wrinkle on his forehead, and a quick jolt of his head twisting to the left. “M’not answering any of those silly questions, Principessa,” he responded instead.

“But you’ve been so mad the entire drive here. You... you didn’t hold my hand,” she whispered like a dumb elementary school student whose crush pushed another girl on the swing set.

His gaze softened. The pinch in his brow disappeared and his eyes went back from laser focused to the gentleness he always seemed to have when he looked at her. He brought his hand to her face and brushed his thumb on her cheek. “M’not mad at you. Of course, m’not. Y’did nothing wrong. You are...” he shook his head. “M’terrified of something hurting you. Someone hurting you. M’mad at him. I could never be mad at you, m’Principessa,” he whispered. “Been dreaming ‘bout you in m’bed. I’d probably sleep like a rock jus’ thinking ‘bout you in here while out on the couch,” he admitted making her heart stop. Harry knew all the right things to say. “After the last couple hours...” he stared at her steadily. “If I sleep in the same bed as you, kitten,” he shook his head and clucked his tongue. “I wouldn’t be able t’let y’go,” he promised.

Part of her thought she should be embarrassed by his statement, but she had been dreaming about way worse than Harry sharing a bed with her since she met him. Each time they touched she thought her heart would explode. When she watched him chop vegetables, or any time she caught a glimpse of his fingers doing anything, she imagined inappropriate touches that would make him think she was insane. “I’m okay with that,” she whispered breathlessly.

“M'gonna kiss you now,” he told her leaning closer to her. “M’not going t’stop for a while,” he promised.

“Are your rooms soundproof?” It wasn’t even a whisper anymore—it was quieter than that. The air that escaped her lips came out nervously. She was lucky he could understand her. It was a stupid thing to ask but her brain was malfunctioning once more, and it was the only thing she could think about; Niall just two rooms over and across the hall.

There was an ache in his jeans at her question, and he let out a low moan from his throat. His lips were so close to hers. “We’ll have t’find out,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. Not a kiss, just touching as he said the words. It still set her on fire. Harry dropped the pillow and his clothes and wrapped his arms around her waist firmly, before sinking his mouth on hers in a kiss that she felt all the way to her toes. She ached everywhere, immediately and let out a groan as he lifted her just so her toes brushed the floor and could easily push her back into his room. He kicked the door shut and she truly prayed the walls were thick and wouldn’t embarrass herself in front of Niall tomorrow morning.

*

She woke up after feeling like she had slept for a whole week. Her lips felt swollen, and light was filtering in from the window. It landed on the expanse of Harry’s muscular back unmarred by tattoos which she now knew covered almost every inch of his torso and most of his left arm, but not the right. As much as she wanted to take Harry’s boxers off last night, she could see the same amount of fatigue in his eyes as she felt in her own body. So, true to his word, they kissed and kissed and kissed and didn’t stop for a while—until her breath was so shallow Harry started to worry about her all over again.

Harry pulled almost all her clothes off, running his hands up and down her body in a way she had never experienced. It was as if he was searching for something but was still so gentle. Like whatever he was searching for was in an area filled with bubbles and he wasn’t allowed to pop any of them. It made her feel beautiful and whole. For however long they kissed, (she hadn’t a clue because she didn’t time it) she forgot about everything except Harry.

The tiredness took over eventually and Harry clutched her body to his. His body was warm and protective around hers, spooned behind her. “Is it everything you dreamed?” She whispered, her arms stacked and nearly crossed around the cage he had her in his embrace.

“S’better, Principessa,” he mumbled and kissed the back of her head. Her skin was so soft and warm. It really was better than he could have dreamed. But he promptly fell asleep.

Obviously, they had turned and moved a bit in their sleep. She leaned over and pressed kisses at evenly spaced intervals down his spine. She caught sight of his alarm clock reading 7:18. She didn’t want to wake him up—at least not till eight because he deserved all the sleep he could get after yesterday. But she couldn’t keep her lips off him. The room was chilly and lifting herself from under the covers to lean over and kiss his skin let the heat out from their little cocoon. It killed her to think he would have to go to work in the evening. Maybe earlier. He probably had prep stuff to do.

Her mind spiraled a bit, wondering if she would go with them. Maybe she should go back home? She kind of missed the smell of garlic and olive oil and didn’t realize it was such a comfort to help her fall asleep. Or would she stay here? She could get a new comfort in Harry’s lips.

Harry’s breathing was steady, no indication that her lips had woken him. But she heard her phone vibrate from somewhere in the pile of her stuff. She slipped out of bed feeling guilty and wrong about leaving him. She grabbed her phone and managed to find a shirt and pair of pants from her duffle bag and picked up her phone so when it started to vibrate again, signaling the person at the other end was not giving up, it wouldn’t bother Harry. Near silently, she stepped out of the room closing the door quietly.

Luckily, Niall and Harry’s floors didn’t creak when she padded back toward the main room. “Hello?” She asked her phone softly.

“Where are you?” Eleanor asked alertly. “I’ve never seen that address before and I’m terrified. Are you alright?”

Shit. She should have warned her.“I’m fine,” she assured her immediately. “Really, everything’s fine,” she promised her through her whispers.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because Harry and Niall are sleeping,” she sighed and put a hand to cover her eyes.

The silence was deafening. “Are you...?” Eleanor gasped. “Halelujah!” She sang. She smiled and felt herself blush even though she had no reason to. It’s not like Eleanor or anyone for that matter could see her. “So that’s Harry’s address?”

“Yes, Mom,” she rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to worry—” She stopped and cleared her throat because she didn’t want to worry Eleanor and certainly didn’t want to lie to her. But technically, there was a need to worry. “You don’t have to worry right now,” at least that was the truth. Technically. Hopefully, she could figure something out before it became a serious problem. “Why are you awake?” She asked.

“I had to pee and needed water and I checked my phone for the time, and it said you were at a new, unfamiliar location,” Eleanor sighed with relief. “How did you end up there?”

She sighed. “It’s... a long story,” one that she didn’t have details for yet because she didn’t know all of them. Ones that she didn’t want to worry Eleanor with when she was supposed to be asleep. “I’ll... call you later. Go back to sleep. I’m okay,” she promised.

Eleanor released a yawn, and she could hear the ruffle of sheets. “She’s okay,” she whispered.

“Wonderful,” she heard Louis grumble.

“Jesus Eleanor, let the poor man sleep,” she rolled her eyes.

“Enjoy La Casa di Harry,” Eleanor sang once more, then hung up almost instantly.

*

Harry was just starting to wake up. Bits of a dream he didn’t remember still on the edge of his mind. But he smelled bacon, home fries, and toast. He moaned quietly as he stretched and turned to see the sweet girl, the star of all his daydreams, standing in the doorway with a plate of food steaming in the early sunlight. His chest felt a warmth he couldn’t describe. “Hey Principessa.”

The groggy, warm, and creaky voice he had when he woke up was her new favorite thing. She felt a pulse of adoration for him flow through her like she had been electrocuted. She was lucky she held onto the plate. “I made you an omelet,” she answered softly. She hated being loud in the mornings. Mornings were meant to be quiet and gentle.

“You didn’t have t’do that,” he sat up against the headboard. She walked over to him, dodging Harry’s discarded jeans and T-shirt, and stepped around her own jeans and sweater.

“I did, though,” she nodded knowingly.

“Did y’sleep okay?” He asked as she settled the plate in his lap. It looked delicious and Harry’s stomach growled without him fully realizing how hungry he was.

“Very,” she smiled. “I... I just want to bring Niall his breakfast, then I’ll be back,” she said standing beside him as he looked at her. The sun coming through the blinds outlined her like the angel she really was, and Harry was sure there were cartoon hearts floating around his head as he gazed at her.

“Hurry,” he said cutely biting into the toast. She giggled and scurried to the kitchen and then back down the hall. Harry sipped from the water bottle he left on his nightstand and nearly choked as he realized his mistake. “Wait!” He called.

“Oh... oh I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, you make breakfast, too?” Niall asked sleepily. Harry sighed, tilting his head back against the board behind him and rolled his eyes. “Gonna have to compete for you soon, Tesorino, if Harry doesn’t make a move,” there was a pause and Niall shuffled by Harry’s door. Naked as the day he was born.

She stood in the doorway looking a little surprised and pink cheeked as ever. Harry smirked. “Should have warned you.”

“Any time you want to make me breakfast in bed, Tesorino, my door is always opened.” Niall smiled and pecked her blushing cheek as he headed back to his room holding the plate and ketchup bottle in his hand.

She looked at Harry who casually nibbled on his yummy food. “Did y’make yourself some or are we sharing?” He asked.

She shook her head to rid herself of the image of Niall naked across his bed. “Uh... hold on,” she said. “I’ll go get my plate,” she answered.

“Must have got her second guessing,” Niall shouted.

“Niall, shut it,” Harry growled.

*

After they ate the yummy food, she put their plates in the sink and promised she would wash everything in a bit. She closed the door as she returned, hurried to snuggle under the blankets, and curled up to Harry’s warm body. This had to be what heaven was like. Harry holding her in the sun-rising morning on a Saturday. After a few little turns and movements, she wound up lying with her ear pressed to his heart. His fingers skimmed up and down the length of her arm and it was hard to believe that after all the time he spent thinking about her in this capacity, she was here. Even if there were a million problems and he was still exhausted just by thinking about last night... she was here.

There wasn’t a thing he had done in his life that felt as nice as holding her.

The rise and fall of her body against his made him happy. She was okay. Physically. He certainly wasn’t going to let anyone get to her. After a bit of contemplation, he noticed she had fallen back asleep. He brushed his lips on her forehead and combed her hair softly along her hairline with the pads of his fingertips.

It was easy to pretend nothing was wrong because it felt so perfect. He tried not to think about all the problems that were outside their little cocoon. He wanted to take the night off but honestly, not working might make his mind a little too wandering to all the bad that could happen.

Plus, if she came along to the restaurant or her place, she would only be a short walk away. Not a ten-minute drive across town that would make his anxiety skyrocket. She startled awake, just about as quickly as she fell asleep. It couldn’t have been more than seven minutes. She twitched and frowned, nuzzling her nose against his chest. “Y’okay, Principessa?” His voice was low and gravelly. He kissed her forehead, but it felt like he was kissing on the part of her heart that was infatuated and in love with him.

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Think I fell asleep again for a minute,” she murmured.

“S’okay. Y’can sleep,” he offered. “M’not going anywhere for a while.”

“No?” She asked, was that hope in her voice? God, he was going to say something stupid like he loved her.

“Niall’s going t’do prep. I’ll go in right before the waiters and waitresses do for the evening,” he explained. “So, we’ve got some time t’relax,” he promised. The smile on her face couldn’t stop and Harry thought he might explode from how sweet she looked. “What?” He asked.

“I’m glad... we get to spend the day together,” she admitted, her cheeks turning his favorite shade of pink. It was adorable to see her tuck her face into Harry’s chest. He thought his heart might explode if he fell any harder for her.

“All y’had t’do was ask, Principessa,” he pressed his lips to the crown of her head. Her skin was so soft and he had blindly felt every inch of her in their late night make out session. He kissed her repeatedly until his lips were sore and the tug on his own lips from hers got weaker. “’D’ve been at y’door any time,” he promised.

“I really thought you were mad at me last night,” she whispered sadly.

“You?” He shook his head. “Can’t imagine a way, la mia dolcezza.”

Her heart ached so badly for him.

*

They shared at least a thousand more kisses. Her breathing was erratic when Niall knocked on the door and Harry managed to calmly answer him. His body was hovering above hers, his hips locked between her thighs. “M’heading out,” he called.

“Bye Niall,” Harry said without an ounce of suggestion that they were doing anything other than playing a board game. She was astounded he could keep his composure like that. Maybe she wasn’t so good at kissing him like she had hoped (but Harry assured her it had nothing to do with that, but he just wanted Niall to go away faster).

“Bye Tesorino,” he called with a smile in his voice. Her voice felt shaky when she answered (even though Harry assured her many times over that Niall had no idea she was breathless from kissing).

Harry’s body was lean but sinewy. His boxer briefs pulled tight around what had to be... she couldn’t think about his penis too long or she would be done for. But she could feel his hard length grinding against her core as he kissed her and kissed her for way longer than she thought she’d be able to emotionally handle after a day spent with her family and finding out her stalker was back.

Eventually her stomach signaled to the pair of them that it was time to eat again. Harry headed to the kitchen to get something ready for her. “S’no garlic bread and eggplant,” he shrugged with a wry smile handing her a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and celery sticks.

She never wanted to leave.

“M’gonna, shower, kitten,” he kissed her forehead. “Shout if y’need something, yeah?”

“Or if I want to join?” She asked, batting her eyelashes up at him innocently.

He groaned. “Don’t tempt me, Principessa,” he kissed her quickly on the lips. Fortunately, Eleanor texted her to keep her occupied the length of his shower.

Do you live there now?

She put the phone to her ear and Eleanor answered on the second ring. “I don’t live here.”

“You haven’t left yet. Which is awfully suspicious.”

She smirked and rolled her eyes. “He spent the day with my family yesterday,” she said softly. “Emma called me a bossy bitch and he told her that it wasn’t very nice,” she swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat—the same one she had yesterday when she overheard the conversation. “And he met Ethan—”

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered back.

“—El, he’s...” she sighed shaking her head. “He’s wonderful.”

“I know. We’ve been waiting for you to notice!”

She rolled her eyes but chatted with El for the length of his shower. The sound of the water running eventually stopped and she promised Eleanor to call her again with a better update.

Harry returned to his room with a towel wrapped on his hips and even though she had spent all night and morning pressed to his mostly naked body, save the boxers, this was somehow more naked. Her heart was flying, and she tried not to stare. “Could I also shower?”

He chuckled. “Course, kitten. Let me get you a towel.”

She wished she was cheekier to ask him for his. But instead, she took the time to let the hot water run over her body and further forget about the crazy day she had yesterday. The difference between the state of her brother’s bathroom versus Harry’s was immense. She wanted to send a picture to him and Ethan explaining what their bathroom was supposed to look like, but she didn’t want him to know she was in Harry’s bathroom.

Once showered and dressed, Harry was waiting in the living room. He smiled at the sight of her, dressed in leggings and a dress that fell just above her knees. She looked beautiful, simply put. Even with wet hair he swore she could be a model. (But she strongly denied such a statement when he voiced it to her). She settled herself next to him. Snuggling into his embrace. The afternoon was quiet. He kissed the top of her head every so often while running his hand up and down her arm. She suggested reading for a while and Harry thought it was adorable and sweet. Her face was concentrated while her eyes scanned the pages. A pucker between her eyebrows. Harry thought she was adorable. It was hard to concentrate on his own book when she was in his house, on his couch, sitting so close to him.

About an hour before Harry mentioned they needed to leave for him to head to work, she noticed a shift in him. It was like the night before. When he didn’t hold her hand in the car and when he seemed so...cold. It was almost subtle, the way his body language and demeanor changed. Although they spent the better part of the day in silence (between reading and kissing) the silence within the last hour before they left was tense and cold.

Harry held the door open to his car again. She thanked him graciously. “Oh... I forgot my stuff,” she realized. The distraction of his change in attitude had thrown her off again. It was hard to think straight. She meant to take it with her when they left but, in the moment, Harry had asked if she was ready to go and his voice was so flat, so devoid of inflection, she wondered if he had been replaced with someone else that looked like him.

He cleared his throat putting the car in reverse despite the predicament. “M’bringing y’back here,” he shrugged.

She frowned. “Oh.”

Tense silence ensued. Biting the inside of her lip, she wanted to be braver and reach out and grab his hand. Just like the night before and try to squeeze his fingers between hers. It felt unfair they had to leave their bubble of peace and quiet. Heading to the restaurant—especially knowing he might show up—was obviously ruining whatever was happening here between her and Harry.

He parked outside the restaurant, the sidewalk filling with people for the Saturday dinner rush. Harry scanned as quickly as he could and took a deep breath. “Do y’see him?”

She swallowed and shook her head. She knew she would know if he was there. It happened every time he was around. It was like his gaze was magnetic toward her and there was nothing like the sense of someone staring at her. “Are y’okay?” He asked. “I can take y’back t’my place.”

The thought of being alone in Harry and Niall’s house while Harry was working seemed agonizing. He wouldn’t be home until midnight—maybe later. She bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head. “I’m fine,” she promised.

“Principessa,” his voice was gentle.

“You didn’t hold my hand,” she whispered. “Again.”

Harry sighed, ran a hand over his face and then tapped his hands on the steering wheel. “M’sorry. But...m’scared,” he admitted. “M’going t’do anything t’protect you, my love,” he promised. It felt like her heart skipped a beat at the new pet name. “But, m’really scared,” he admitted. “If something happens t’you...” he shook his head. “I feel like...like I just got you,” of course he did. He did just get her. It was barely twenty-four hours ago that he had kissed her for the first time. “There’s so much I want t’know ‘bout you. So much I want t’spend time learning and m’jus,’” he shook his head. “S’not fair.”

It wasn’t fair. Harry didn’t deserve this. He deserved easy. Deserved a girl that didn’t have a crazy loud family or a stalker. Harry deserved a pretty girl that... wasn’t her. “Nothing is going to happen to me,” she whispered. It was nice that her voice sounded more courageous than she felt.

“Principessa,” he looked at her pointedly. He reached out, cupped her face softly and skimmed his thumb along her cheek. “You are deflecting,” he said knowingly, a sad smirk on the corner of his mouth. “Trying t’get me not t’worry ‘bout you.”

It felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. She did it implicitly without even her brain acknowledging it. She looked at her lap even though Harry still held the side of her face to keep her from moving. “You...you don’t need to.”

“M’always going t’worry ‘bout you, Principessa,” it sounded like a promise.

No one ever worried about her. Except maybe Eleanor—but mostly about the stalker and not much else. Not in a bad way, Eleanor just knew she was okay aside from that . But Mom and Dad depended on her for everything. Growing up she did way more than was expected of her. Carrying a weight on her shoulders that she didn’t know she could hold. James and Emma did the same thing. They didn’t even mean to, it just happened. She didn’t need to be worried about by other people. She was the worrier. Like it was her job. We don’t need to worry about her. She’s lovely. Every parent-teacher conference. Every guidance counselor. Every supervisor or boss. No one ever worried about her.

But here was Harry.

The emotion in her throat felt like it was tying her vocal cords together. She nodded silently. “Okay,” she whispered.

“What do y’want t’do?” He asked softly. He could see something wracking her brain. Something making her spin out internally. He wanted to read her mind more than he wanted anything in the world. Wanted to know what she was trying to keep from him.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. That was probably as close as he could possibly get to reading her mind.

“Okay,” he grabbed her hand with the one not holding her face. His gaze dropped to her eyes, and he applied gentle pressure to the side of her face. A reminder he wanted her to maintain the eye contact she was obviously nervous to hold. “Then m’going t’make a few decisions for you. If y’don’t like it, y’don’t have t’do it, alright?” She nodded. She wasn’t sure anyone in her life had ever given her direction before. It felt weird just imagining. Always the decision maker, always a leader, never a follower. “I’d like y’to hang in the kitchen. Y’can work or whatever. M’sure there’s stuff t’do. When we’re done, I want you t’come home with me again,” he scanned her face for anything that might upset her. “S’that sound alright?”

She nodded silently. It did sound nice. “Can...can I check a couple things I didn’t get yesterday?”

“Of course,” he nodded. “M’not...” he sighed. “M’not ordering you that y’have t’do this. M’jus’ trying t’make this easier on me and you,” his voice was gentle, of course it was. She nodded.

“I know, I appreciate it,” sincerity thick in her voice.

“One last thing,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

She pulled back, away from his mouth so she could look up at him expectantly and he smiled, the first real smile since his demeanor changed with the thought of heading back to work, her apartment, and essentially, the scene of the crime. “If y’want t’hold m’hand, you jus’ have t’reach out and grab it, Principessa. M’all yours,” he promised and kissed her forehead again before dropping her hand and her face to exit the car.

*

When there was a lull, she told Harry she was going to head upstairs and check on a few things. He responded with a half-smile. It was so sexy it made a shock short through her. Her hands smelled like garlic from peeling cloves of it and her eyes kept watering from chopping shallots, so she knew her mascara was smudged. But Harry was looking at her as if she was made out of Christmas lights, sunsets, flowers, and anything else that was beautiful.

“Principessa,” he said quickly stepping away from the flutter of activity of the main part of the kitchen. “You’re sure he’s not here?” He asked again.

She nodded. “I’m sure,” she promised. “I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t go up there alone if he was.”

“Okay,” he pecked her cheek. “Jus’ call if there’s a problem, yeah?”

She smiled assuredly. “Of course.”

She headed to the front of the restaurant, sidestepping the waiting customers and realized her car still wasn’t there. In her hot kisses and time spent with Harry, she forgot completely that her car was still at the shop. Nonetheless, she went to her mailbox—blended in with the other businesses nearby and unlocked it with a small key. The complaints of the wait were minimal—even in the February degree temperatures. “There’s a really hot chef here,” a girl about her age muttered to her friend.

She smirked excited to tell Harry about the compliment. Fortunately, the alleyway still wasn’t creepy. Neither was the stairwell to her apartment. Both miracles because she was a little worried that might happen and another reason why she wanted to get the mail before heading down the small space. Everything in her apartment was in the very same place.

She sighed and sat on her couch with the pile of mail. Since most of her important mail was online, she didn’t really go to the mailbox all that often. She grabbed a notepad of paper she had been using interchangeably for a grocery list and to do list. She pulled the top layer off which read eggs, milk, bread, standard things she always needed. The grocery list went on her coffee table, and she started scribbling a second list. Chores she needed to get done around here, in theory tomorrow. She was pretty sure she could convince Harry to take her home earlier while he did prep work.

The car needed to be dealt with Monday—especially if she was to drive herself to work in the office on Thursday. She added a couple details about work and then sifted through the envelopes. Not much mail was delivered to the apartment. There was the standard issued fliers for the grocery store, which she set aside to clip coupons. Mostly junk mail and letters asking for donations. Her W-2 arrived—finally. It turned out that HR didn’t finalize her new address when she moved above Dolcezza. Which was a good thing in some ways, but she wanted to get her taxes done sooner rather than later—which was then added to her do list now that she had the paperwork to do it. While she went through the remaining envelopes, scanning expiration dates for coupons she might not have gotten to in time, she decided to answer her text messages she had missed.

Thanks for the help, little love. Her mom had texted. It was nice to meet Harry.

Her cheeks heated up as she slid her finger in the envelopes making piles of trash and things to add to different files. Coupons for her favorite retailers also made a significant little pile.

Always, Momma.

Thanks for the cupcakes. Emma had messaged her at about noon. Probably in the middle of the bake sale, but at the time she was making out with Harry and completely forgot to respond. She tried to remember if Emma had ever texted her thanks, ever.

No problem, Em! I'd do anything for you. She hoped she already knew that but after overhearing her talk to Harry, she wasn't so sure, and wanted to be clearer.

There were two messages from Eleanor that she would get to later, still. She didn’t need to open the thread to know she was asking for details about Harry that she wasn’t sure she was ready to answer yet. The final missed messages came from the three-person chat that included James and Ethan. It was a picture of a freshly cleaned bathroom. A candle lit and new fluffy hand towels.

Would you sleepover with me now? Ethan asked.

She rolled her eyes and snorted. James sent a vomiting emoji.

No, but I wouldn’t hate having to pee there.

Ethan answered immediately. Even after her long delay. Hot, with a heart-eye emoji.

You need help.

Quit hitting on my sister!

She honestly couldn’t wait to show Harry the messages. It was funny.

For a moment she forgot about the weekend. The craziness of it all. She was simply going through her mail, smelling the garlic and olive oil rising from the restaurant. Harry was down there waiting anxiously for her to get back, she was sure.

So, in the forgetfulness of the crazy weekend, it was a bit jarring to look at the last piece of mail she had pulled from the envelope and see herself in a picture of the little alleyway from about a week prior. Her work bag on her shoulder and a coffee cup in hand. She had stooped to pick up a package outside the entry way of the door up to her place. There was a small note behind the picture. A scrap piece of paper, really.

It took her a moment to realize it wasn’t because the writing was illegible, but because her hand was shaking while she held it, her eyes blurring with tears.

I knew I’d find you again. I missed you.

--

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[coffeeandbatboys]

Find me and don’t let go (Rex x Fem!Reader)

I was listening to Smart Iowa by Trousdale, and it made me think of this. I’m probably going to make a part 2

Warnings: angst, reunions, mentions of order 66, mentioned depression, happy ending, fluff, injury

It’s been 693 standard rotations since you fled Coruscant. You’d left everything behind when the troopers turned their guns on you. You were only a weapons officer, but standing up for your Jedi commander had labeled you a traitor.

Somehow, you ended up on Kintoni, a farming planet with rows of corn that went on as far as you could see. You’d gotten a cabin with a garden and adopted a little orphaned Tooka. This is where you stayed. You almost wished that your husband could see the life you’d built. It had been something you had talked about for “after the war”.

But the last time you’d seen him had been not long before order 66. He kissed you goodbye and left with Ahsoka.

You tried to contact him, but all you knew was that their Venator had crashed into a moon. You were devastated because the only thing that had kept you going through the war was Rex.

Footsteps sound from the porch, pulling you from your thoughts—followed by a groan and a frail knock.

Your Tooka growls, though it’s hardly threatening. You grab your blaster defensively, peering through the window. A cloaked figure is leaned against the doorframe, but 501st blue vambraces catch your eye.

It can’t be.

You throw the door open and…

There he is.

He’s bleeding, and his eyes are screwed shut in pain, but he’s alive. The blonde fuzz peeking out from beneath the hood tells you so.

“Rex?!?” You cry, reaching a shaking hand out to steady him.

He sways when his head snaps up. Upon seeing you, he falls to his knees and cries. You follow, hitting the ground and wrapping him up in your arms. You both cry.

“Mesh’la?” He chokes out. You nod into his shoulder, tears still flowing.

“You found me, Rex. I’m here.”

“Maker. Oh, Maker,” he cries “I thought you’d been killed and—“

You scoff, cutting him off. “I thought you were dead, love.”

He holds you tighter and cries into your chest.

“I’m right here, cyare.”

“I missed you.” You cried. “I almost couldn’t go on.”

Rex feels his heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Am I…” he hesitates. “Am I still your husband?”

The question makes you sob harder, but you pull away to cup his face.

“You’re the only man I have ever loved. Of course you’re still my husband.”

That’s the only confirmation he needs, catching your lips with his in a kiss you’ve waited nearly two years for. It’s followed by many desperate little kisses before you pull away, making up for lost time. He presses his forehead to yours, tears still slipping down both of your cheeks.

“Rex.” You cry. “I love you so much.”

He nods, wincing. “I love you more, Mesh’la.” He sucks in a breath and whimpers a little bit and you remember his injuries.

You pull away instantly, horrified that you could have forgot.

“Right, kriff. Here—“ he’s quite a bit larger than you, but you help him into the cabin and onto the chair that sits in the middle. You run to the ‘fresher and grab your med pack, returning to his side in record time.

He chuckles, noticing how flustered you are. You dab at the bruises and scratches on his face with the bacta gel, heart full of joy because he’s here. You don’t care how he got hurt or how he found you, because he came home to you. You couldn’t ask for anything more. He takes your hand to kiss your knuckles, and that’s when you know that everything is gonna be okay.

[jungshookz]

flowershop!yoongi putting a little flower behind smitten!yn's ear and her not knowing how to act

➺ pairing; florist!yoongi x smitten!y/n

➺ genre; smitten!universe!! lil bit of fluff bc APPARENTLY the last smitten update was "genuinely devastating", "actually so depressing what the fuck was that cee", and "why would you do this to us" or something like that

➺ wordcount; 1.2k

»»————- 🌼 ————-««

“wow. not only are you a third wheel, you’ve officially become a fifth wheel. i’m impressed, i really am.” 

you immediately look up from the petunias, your shoulders drooping when you see who it is

“…yoongi.” 

you were hoping yoongi wasn’t working today because you knew he was going to make some comment about you being today’s fifth wheel but of course, because the universe is constantly shoving you down and kicking dirt in your face… here he is in all his glory 

jungkook invited you to go for lunch with him and ji-eun and co. because… well, why wouldn’t he invite you? you’re his friend, of course you’re invited for a nice lunch and a stroll downtown 

and the only reason why you guys (aka you, jungkook, ji-eun, jimin, and taehyung) are in the flower shop in the first place is because jungkook mentioned that he’d gotten ji-eun’s bouquet and teddy bear here and she wanted to take a look 

the two of them are currently chatting it up with seokjin who very clearly is trying to get jungkook to buy a massive bouquet for ji-eun and you’re slightly concerned at how good of a salesman he is because now you’re wondering if you should get a bouquet for yourself. 

as for the other two, jimin wanted to get some shots of his outfit in front of the flowers because admittedly the inside of the story is fairly vibey and taehyung’s helping him out with that 

and you… didn’t know where else you could go, so you decided to walk to the far end of the store and pretend like you were really interested in the petunias 

“what can i do to help you, buddy?” yoongi pouts mockingly, pushing his bottom lip out and making his eyes all big as he leans against the counter and folds his arms on top of it, “i can wrap the bouquet up for you so if you run in the rain again it’ll be waterproof.”

“okay, you- you really don’t have to rub it in my face like that,” you snap a little harsher than intended, but you really can’t help it because yoongi is genuinely being an asshole, “you’re just mad because you don’t have a friend who’d do something like that for you.”

“well, if i had a friend who did all of that for me and was pretty like you, i wouldn’t be friends with them anymore,” yoongi pauses, tilting his head slightly, “i’d make ‘em my girlfriend.” 

“you-“ you feel your face flush at the out-of-nowhere compliment before scoffing, “okay, now i see why you guys have five stars for customer service! i see what you’re doing, using your skills to get me to buy something-“ 

“aw, c’mon, don’t get all shy on me now…” yoongi laughs, reaching over to hook a finger against the crack of your elbow and tugging you back slightly, “you weren’t shy when you were practically begging me to open the shop up for you past closing.” 

“no, kook, you don’t need to get another bouquet for me, honestly…” you look over when you hear ji-eun laughing lightly, and almost immediately your mood dips when you see her loop her arm through his before leaning down to rest her head against his shoulder 

you wince slightly when you feel that all too familiar pinch in your chest at the sight of how loved-up the two of them are but you straighten your posture when you notice jimin looking towards your direction 

you still don’t know what his problem is with you… you’ve been quite civil with him so you really have no idea why he doesn’t seem to like you all that much 

taehyung is definitely the friendlier one but you’re still intimidated to talk to him even though he initiates a lot of conversations with you 

you just… don’t fit in with them, and you’re slightly concerned you’re losing jungkook to them-

“what’s your favourite colour?” yoongi asks all of a sudden, and you turn around to face him, grateful that he’s serving as a distraction from the searing pain in your chest-

“uh, good question!” you clear your throat, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth before shrugging, “like… like a burnt orange. a deep-toned orange? not, like, velma from scooby doo orange, a little darker than that-“ 

“okay, got it.” you jump when yoongi suddenly whips a pair of shears out from his back pocket, making a snipping motion at you before rounding the counter and walking over to the massive collection of petunias 

“you don’t strike me as a deep orange girl, but let me see here…” he fingers through them gently, humming to himself as he cups a flower in his hand gently before snipping it off, being careful not to clip his fingers by accident, “we don’t have a burnt orange colour, but this one is like a yellowy-orange.” yoongi flips the shears in between his fingers smoothly before shoving it into his back pocket and turning to face you, “hope that’s alright.”

“i- i mean, it’s alright with me because i have no idea what you’re doing,” you snort, leaning back against the counter with one ankle crossed over the other, “i hope you’re not going to make me pay for that-“

“i won’t. this one’s on me.” 

“what are you-!” you freeze when yoongi approaches you a lot closer than a salesclerk should, and almost immediately you feel your entire face light up when he smooths some of your hair back before tucking the petunia behind your ear, his tongue poking out in concentration as he adjusts it so that it won’t fall out 

“hey, look at that.” yoongi smiles, crossing his arms over his chest as he nods contently, “cute.” 

you smile meekly, unsure of what to respond with and unsure of why your stomach is doing teeny little somersaults 

“thank you.” you clear your throat quietly, leaning back a little so you can check out your reflection in the mirror, “it’s- i like the colour, it’s a nice colour.”

“mm, i know. i’m the one that grew them.” yoongi clicks his tongue as he makes his way back behind the counter, “anyway, fifth wheel- if jin asks, you definitely paid for that and i’ve been mopping the floors diligently this whole time.”

(later, when jungkook asks you where you got that flower and he finds out that yoongi gave it to you, you don’t notice the way he narrows his eyes slightly and looks back at the store. why did yoongi give you a flower?) 

[zxvak47]

MINE ALL MINE, simon “ghost” riley

word count : 775

summary: simon and you were one confusing blend and as time went on the both of you parted ways. little did you know this wasn't the end

warnings: arguing? angst, fluff

song : My Love Mine All Mine, Mitski

So, when I die, which I must do

could it shine down here with you?

1 month earlier

"Simon..." you paused. For the last few weeks nothing was the same with you and Simon. It wasn't that he was gone all the time but just his demeanour wasn't the same. Most days you would come home to Simon in his Ghost balaclava and everyone knew what that meant. He was cold, or hostile then would come back hours later to apologize as Simon. You couldn't keep playing this game and once you offered a hand for help he refused. You were determined to make it work, but he wasn't.

"I'm not going to keep arguing..." you said clearly tired with all the bickering.

"It only took so long for you to give up on me" He argued, intentionally looking to egg you on.

"I'm not giving up Simon I'm just-"

"Your just what?!" You two were so happy before these last two weeks and it only made you wonder what went so wrong. What did you do? What didn't you do?  But not once did you say to yourself that it was just 'Simon being Simon'.

"I am done! I can't stand to not do something about how you've been acting! Just... please go." You said, tears welling into your waterline as he stared coldly into your eyes, his own trying to find some sense into the mistake he was making by leaving you in that living room alone a crying mess.

-

There was no doubt Simon missed you. He wanted to call you back, answer all those voicemails of your soft and trembling voice.

"I know, and I'm sorry for the messages. I'm trying because I miss you... if I didn't try to get ahold of you I think I'd feel pretty bad about myself. Simon... just know that I'm here when you need me. You can come back to me when you need me, whenever you're ready...Goodbye." 

You had sent that message three days ago and he would listen to it when he got the chance to be alone which was more often then usual now that you were gone. It was the same for you. You left voicemails after each call he didn't answer and each time you hoped just a al little bit that he would pick up the phone. He never did but you still hoped and had faith. He loved that about you. How you kept him happy and positive and how you two were one in the same. You can’t give that up, and he realized that now.

The ring if the door bell was heard in the other side of the door as Simons hand fell back to his side. He knew she cared, but what if it was too late for him to come back? How can he just let something, someone like her just leave?

The door opened and he looked up to the girl, removing his balaclava as you gave him a half smile, his eyes looking into yours waiting for you to give in and to which you did. You attached yourself to his torso hugging him in hopes he was really here to stay. He hugged back, resting his head on-top of yours as he gently caressed your back.

You gently let go of him as you held his hand pulling him inside.

You two wound up upstairs, your mouths like magnets. All he wanted was to be with you and vise-versa. He stopped though, letting you take a second to sit back. His hand held yours before he explained his reasoning.

“I don’t want you to think I only came back for the sex…let’s not tonight okay?” He said, his thumb gently gracing over the back of your hand. You smiled at him and kissed him once more.

“Okay” Not even devastated in the slightest, you fell back into his arms as he held you close to his own body. Neither of you needed to converse about what your place was with one another because you both knew it. Simon wanted to keep you safe at all costs, you were his main priority not even himself. You just wanted to make him feel like himself, let him enjoy his life without thinking of his past.

“I’m glad you came home” he looked down at you, swiping his fingers through your hair before pressing a kiss on your head

“Me too.”

[thepixelelf]

Mission Possible

genres: elementary teachers au, fluff pairing: reader x seungkwan words: 1.2k warnings: none! notes: a short fic for seungkwan day!! I'm slightly late because I am me, but an anon requested early education kwannie and I thought that was so cute!! hopefully this lives up to their idea 😊

One of Mr Boo's students sees his brand new engagement ring.

Mr Boo's fourth grade class has been on a group mission ever since their orchestra field trip.

Their mission — and they did choose to accept it: get Mr Boo (the funniest and most glaringly obviously single teacher at Greenfield elementary school) together with you (the new music teacher Mr Boo's students always catch him smiling at while you're not looking).

Future president ten-year-old Kim Sujeong is at the head of the operation. She was behind most of the class's best efforts, including but not limited to running allllllll the way across the school from the music room to his classroom and telling him you had fallen and died and that he needed to come help! or else you might, er, die harder. Despite the flimsiness of Sujeong's story, Mr Boo had gone running full-speed down the halls to you (whom he found perfectly fine and not dead, just wide-eyed at his sudden — and out of breath — appearance in the music room with Sujeong beaming behind him when you were certain she was supposed to be in the bathroom), so she counted that as a success.

Now, future marine biologist Kim Sujeong — she’s still between that, president, or interior designer — is in a fit, arms crossed as she watches the kids of Greenfield elementary run around the playground. She huffs. Can’t the rest of the fourth graders take this seriously? Will they let the mission go? Just like that?

Recess is great, sure, but this is no time for play!

This morning, though Sujeong didn’t notice until a couple minutes before the first recess bell rang, Mr Boo showed up with a shiny silver ring on his finger. His left ring finger.

Sujeong huffs again.

“Are you okay there, Sujeong?”

On supervision duty today, you sit down on the park bench next to Sujeong, slightly concerned. She looks up at you, uncrosses her arms, and whimpers out your name. “Are you devastrated?” she asks you on the verge of tears.

“Devastated?” You point at yourself. “Me?”

Tears brim at the corners of Sujeong’s eyes, and her bottom lip quivers. “Mr Boo!” she cries out. “He’s getting married!”

You blink.

For a few seconds, you say nothing, just staring at Sujeong, and she thinks — oh, heartbreak! — you must have already given up on Mr Boo, must’ve heard about it already and cried before recess started, and, oh! What a cruel man Mr Boo is, to do this to you!

“Oh, sweetheart,” you say, smiling and gently taking Sujeong’s hands in yours. What a strong person you are, she thinks, to smile through such pain… You smooth down her hair, which, although her mum had done it in pretty braids today, has gone a bit wild in the wind. “Mr Boo getting married doesn’t make me sad.”

Sujeong sniffles. “Why not?”

You chuckle slightly, but Sujeong doesn’t know what’s so funny. “I’m happy for him. It’s not every day you find someone willing to marry you. I bet he loves that person very much.”

“But…” Sujeong pouts, breath a little shaky. “I thought… he loved…”

Your left hand comes down from her hair to hold her hands again. “Hm?”

Dropping her head, Sujeong is about to mumble “you”, but instead, she gasps at the sight of your ring finger.

Which sports a silver ring she’s never seen on you before.

“Not you too!” she squeaks, utterly betrayed.

“Ah— Sujeong, it’s not—”

“They’re not better than Mr Boo, are they? I know he’s a meanie because he’s getting married but— but, you’re doing it too! You’re getting married and he’s going to be sad because he loves you! He does! I saw! He looks at you like the boys in the movies! And he talks about you all the time — even when it’s math time! You’re the music teacher! There’s no music in math!” Sujeong is starting to lose her breath, using it all up, but she can’t stop. “So you can’t marry someone else because Mr Boo loves you! He— he shouldn’t marry someone else either, but that’s why we have to stop him! I can take you to him right now. We can show him how sad you are, because you are devastrated—”

“Devastated, sweetheart,” you say, then shake your head because that’s really not important right now. “I mean, I’m not devastated. I’m very happy.” Smiling, you hold up your hand and show her your engagement ring. “I’m going to marry someone I love, and so is Mr Boo. It’s a good thing. We’re both happy.”

Sujeong looks up at you through wet eyelashes, taking in deep breaths. She pouts, but doesn’t say anything.

You sigh, still smiling. “So be happy for us, okay?” You lift her chin with one finger, your other hand giving her smaller one a soft squeeze. “Don’t worry about our boring grown-up problems, and go play with your friends while it’s still recess. You know it’s social studies after, right?”

Sujeong lets out a little gasp. That’s right — there must be only a couple minutes left of recess, and she needs to gather up her classmates for an emergency meeting.

New mission: find out how to break an engagement.

Two of them.

Future president marine biologist interior designer divorce lawyer Kim Sujeong has her work cut out for her.

⭒

Once all the students have been picked up and all his prep work for tomorrow gets finished, Seungkwan packs his things and heads to the music classroom. The door is open, but he raps his knuckles against it and leans against the door frame when you look up from your desk and smile at him.

“Ready to go?” He smiles back.

“Just a second, Mr Boo.”

You throw your things in the backseat of the car before getting in to the passenger seat next to Seungkwan.

“Sujeong seemed pretty put out with me today,” he says as he starts the engine, a slight smile teasing at his lips. He lifts his left hand and wiggles his fingers at you, the silver ring glinting in the sunlight. “Didn’t like my choice of accessory, maybe?”

You snort. “Yeah, that tie is pretty ugly.”

Affronted, Seungkwan gasps and puts a hand over his heart — and pink, star-patterned tie. “You love this ugly tie.”

“I do,” you admit with a sigh. “I really do.”

He likes it when you smile at him like that. You’re tired from the day, but you still laugh with him. It’s a beautiful feeling.

“Sometimes I feel like we should just tell everyone,” you say, staring at the ring on Seungkwan’s finger.

He chuckles. “You’re the one who said you wanted to hide it.”

“Yeah, from the faculty while I’m still new — I could already tell they wouldn’t want a couple working at the same school just from the interview.” (Seungkwan thinks that the rings are a dead giveaway, but you seemed so excited to wear them this morning that he hadn't said anything, and he's not going to now.) “I didn’t think the kids would get so invested, though" you continue. "Sujeong’s mad at you for ruining her OTP, by the way.”

“Just me? You’ve got a ring too, y’know.”

“Yeah, but Sujeong likes me more.” You stick out your tongue at him.

Seungkwan scoffs in disbelief. He reaches over the gear shift and grabs your hand, linking your fingers together. “Whatever. Sujeong will have it all figured out by next year.”

You raise an eyebrow, but give his hand a squeeze anyway. “She will?”

“Well, it’ll be pretty obvious when you have my last name.”

It’s your turn to scoff. “As if. You’re taking my last name.”

Seungkwan doesn’t argue, he just pulls your hand up in his and presses his lips to your knuckles.

“I don't mind the sound of that.”

[jackactuallywrites]

Spirits and Ghosts

Warning: I’m putting this at the top because this fic is pretty dark! Alcoholism, referenced suicide, Soap is dead, Ghost is completely broken, mildly dubious consent cause you’re both drunk shagging

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x female reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: Everyone is devastated after Soap’s death, most of all Ghost. He knows you know he’s coping with alcohol, and comes to talk to you, he doesn’t know that you’re drinking too

Notes: I just love a bit of hurt/comfort after all the mushy fluff

Word Count: 3,270

ao3 link

Special thanks: @xxven ily

There was a palpable heaviness hanging over the base with the knowledge that one of your own was gone. You’d never had the pleasure of truly befriending Soap, yet you still felt his absence, a hole in the worn fabric that made up the base. His jokes, his laughter, that obnoxious Scottish accent that echoed down the halls, something you’d found irritating then, but now you would have given anything to hear it one last time.

None amongst you felt that loss more keenly than Ghost.

You were intel, so it was in your job description to keep watch, not only on whoever the government had designated as the enemy but on your own, digging into your comrade's personal lives and finding out every last little secret that could possibly be used against them. Skeletons in the closet didn’t even come close to describing the graveyard in Ghost’s past. Supposedly, he was numb to the trauma, empty of every human emotion after everything he’d been through, but you’d been watching him. There had been something motivating that man, some ironclad little spark at the centre of his being, yet it had died with Soap.

Never once before had his moniker been so accurate. The man truly was haunting the base, a ghoulish spectre wandering the halls at night, his eyes dead and cold, his body animated by something unknown. At least, that was until you took it upon yourself to break into Ghost’s room.

Alcohol.

That was what was motivating the man to keep going, a growing pile of spirits underneath his bed. It was the perfect crime; nobody would ever get close enough to the man to be able to smell his breath; even if they did, he wore a mask, the alcohol-tinted air smothered by a layer of fabric and resin. You knew that Price and Gaz kept an eye on the man, but how close could they truly get to him? Even by military standards, Ghost was closed off. So, you came in. Covert amongst the covert, supposedly for the ‘good of the task force’, though yet again you were questioning it. What good would come of reporting Ghost? You’d read his psych evals; the man was not one for therapy, and understandably so, meaning he would be discharged honourably if he was lucky, but you knew how that story ended. At the end of a rope.

The laptop in your office mocked you with its bright glow, lighting up your dismal notes of alcoholism and trauma, but you couldn’t bring yourself to transfer the notes into his official documents just yet. A man’s life was on the line, and this was not something you took lightly. What you needed was your routine.

It was simple enough; you’d get yourself a nice cold lemonade and then put in enough vodka to drown a small animal, though never enough to completely rid you of your conscience and allow yourself to be engulfed by everything you forced down. Considering you were planning on writing up Ghost for a drinking problem, it felt hypocritical, but everything you did was. Spying on your own soldiers to keep them safe. The lines were already blurred, no matter how straight you tried to make them.

Your room was a perfect prison for you, your laptop safely stored in the securely locked server rooms, only accessible by a sober you the next day. For now, it was just you and your notes, the ones that would be responsible for condemning a man. The words felt heavy on your heart as you flicked through your notepad, your mind already swimming with alcohol as you reread what you’d written of Ghost, of his pain, his guilt, his trauma. He was a good man, from what you could tell, but there was no room for empathy. You had to do what was best for the task force.

When you heard the knock at the door, you felt your soul leave your body. You switched up your drinking room every time, never using the same one twice, always having your office as where you would be found after hours. Of course, you weren’t stupid enough to believe that you yourself weren’t watched, but you knew how and where they’d monitor you, and you’d gone out of your way to avoid it. Or so you’d thought. Could you have messed up? No, you’d done everything perfectly. This was just some horrible coincidence.

Another knock at the door, firmer though still quiet, was enough to rid you of that thought. Someone was out there, someone who knew you were in that room. Your sidearm was never far from your hand, and you kept it in hand as you approached the door, hoping that your dishevelled appearance would be put down to being roused from an early night’s sleep rather than from an empty bottle. Professional. Courteous. That’s all you had to be for the next minute. You could do that.

You might have been able to if it wasn’t Ghost on the other side of the door—Ghost, whose fate lay in your hands, fragile and delicate like a baby bird. He made no attempt at upholding any sort of professional courtesy himself as he pushed past you into the small room you’d taken as sleeping quarters that night.

“I know.” His tired voice brokered no disagreement, but you still made an effort. “Know what?” He sunk onto your bed, precariously close to your stash of alcohol, resting his forearms on his thighs, his eyes firmly on you, “I know you know everything.” You remained quiet, as was always best in this situation, allowing Ghost to reveal how much he knew. “Don’t.” He knew, of course, he knew, he’d been briefed on those exact tactics. You looked back at him, trying to be resolute though your head was swimming, “I’m just doing my job, Lieutenant. As you do yours.” He scoffed, but you pressed on, “It’s for the good of the team, Riley. You know that.” “There is no team without Soap.” He was a man in pain, in distress, yet he was too close. You couldn’t have him in here, not where your secrets unravelled. “Go sleep it off, Lieutenant.”

For a moment, it seemed like you’d escaped closer scrutiny by the skin of your teeth, but Ghost’s eyes had shifted to the small gap in between the bed and the end table, where you’d stashed the bottle, having given up on the charade of diluting it with lemonade quite some time ago. His eyes slowly returned to you, and you felt him examine you, not just your physical appearance but your posture, the slight haziness in your eyes you’d tried to play off as exhaustion.

“Are you drunk?”

There was no doubting the absolute incredulity in his voice, and you knew you’d been caught. Honesty, that was your best policy now, mixed in with a heavy dose of untruths. “I’m off duty.” “I know your schedule.” “Unscheduled leave.” He pushed up from the bed and crossed the room to you, trapping you between him and the door, glowering down at you. “Liar.” A different tactic was needed now, and you tried to look earnest, “The death of Soap-“ He didn’t let you finish, placing his hand over your mouth to silence you, his glove soft against your skin, “Don’t you fucking dare.” You could feel how precarious your situation was now. Ghost would never hurt you; you knew that much from his files, but he might report you. You could take him down, but you’d be sentencing yourself to go down with him.

After a moment, Ghost removed his hand from your mouth, folding his arms across his chest and glaring down at you, allowing you the freedom to explain yourself as though there was anything non-incriminating you could say. You hesitated momentarily before deciding there was no other way out of this. “I’m drunk.” He narrowed his eyes at you, “I could report you.” He looked you over, no doubt weighing his options, so you reminded him, “So could I.“

For a moment, the silence seemed to stretch out into eternity between you, both considering the mutually assured destruction you could unleash. Ghost was the first to deflate, sinking back onto your bed and reaching over to grab the bottle of vodka. He held it up to you in a mock toast, his voice dark, “Here’s to the best and the brightest of the forces.” You relaxed a little, taking the bottle from him. “There’s another bottle in the drawer.” He didn’t need telling twice, pulling the drawer open and taking out the second bottle, unscrewing it as he pulled off his mask and balaclava. You’d read about his face, but seeing it was something else. He was handsome, even with the crooked nose, the untidy greying stubble and the heavy purple bags under each eye. You held out your bottle to his, “Here’s to mutually assured destruction.” His voice was soft as he clinked his bottle against yours, but you could still hear the name on his lips. “To Soap.”

Nothing compared to the blissful feeling of alcohol carrying you away from your worries. Your entire body felt light, slightly tingly, as if there was a slight lag between your mind and your limbs. It was a delightful feeling, the feel of the carpet underneath your fingers, and you stretched out your hands, exploring the new textures that brushed against your skin, stroking along the fabric and noting the bump of the stitches.

“That’s my leg you’re stroking.”

Ghost’s voice was soft, and you laughed, moving your hand away from his leg, “Sorry, sorry.” You cracked open an eye to see him leaning his back against the bedframe with his eyes still closed, a slight smile on his lips, “I don’t mind. S’nice.” The lines between professional and person were already beyond blurry and had been since the very first sip of alcohol, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You returned your hand to his thigh, exploring the waterproofed fabric and how your fingers slid over it smoothly, feeling the ridges of the pockets and then the coarse material of his belt. He shifted, laying his arm on the bed frame behind you, his forearm draping over your shoulder, and you allowed yourself to lean into his chest, enjoying the close contact.

It was obvious to you where things were going; no matter how slowly they were progressing, the end result would undeniably be the same. You shifted away from him, using every last ounce of your self-control to put some distance between you, placing your hands in your lap. “Ghost. We can’t- I can’t. It would be wrong of me.” He reached out for your face, his gloved fingers soft against your cheek as he gently turned you toward him, “I just want to feel good again.” You could see the earnestness in his face but also the pain and exhaustion in his eyes, the undeniable sorrow that lingered. At the end of a day like this, feeling good was all you wanted, too.

Ghost seemed to feel your resistance fading away, his hand shifting from your cheek down, his fingers stroking over your jaw and then around to the back of your neck. His grip was gentle but quietly insistent as he pulled you toward him, your boundaries slipping as you gave in, letting your hands reach out to grab his jumper and pull him closer to you, his lips crashing against yours, firm and desperate, his fingers sliding up into your hair, holding you tightly against him.

A single kiss was all it took to destroy the facade of professionalism entirely.

Ghost wasted no time, breaking the kiss to take his jumper off, revealing the plain green T-shirt underneath, and you eagerly hooked your fingers underneath the hem to take it off for him. He raised his arms to allow you to strip him, waiting for you to take his t-shirt off before he started on yours, easily pulling it off of you and then gently pushing you back onto the carpet, using his knee to nudge your legs apart and then wrapping them around his waist as he leaned down to kiss you again, using his arm to brace himself so he didn’t crush you underneath him.

You knew what you were doing was wrong, but he felt too good against you, one hand tangling in your hair, his lips moving down your neck, sucking and biting at your skin, the other hand pulling your hips against him as he ground into you. The alcohol heightened the pleasure in your skin, and you let out a soft sigh, allowing yourself to become lost in the sensation. Even the slightest sign of pleasure from you spurred Ghost on, and he leant back from you, leaving you panting on the floor as his hands darted down to your trousers, swiftly unbuckling your belt and button and then yanking the zipper down, tugging your trousers off and tossing them to the side.

As he began undoing his own belt, you took a moment to appreciate how attractive the man was, the way the muscles in his arms bulged as he fumbled with the buckle, the black tattoos that wrapped around his forearm, the hungry look in his pale eyes as he took in the sight of your body, the dark blond hair that trailed down his stomach. He undid his trousers, pushing his boxers down, his cock finally springing free. You could feel your heart skip a beat at the sight of him, how desperate he was for you, and you bit your lip in anticipation, feeling the butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Ghost didn’t bother to take his trousers completely off, already leaning down to tug your pants off, sliding them over your legs and throwing them aside. He gripped your thigh as he positioned himself, grinding himself into you to coat as much of himself as he could in your wetness before he slowly pushed into you, the pressure at your entrance building before he slowly began to sink into you, a throaty growl emanating from his throat as he buried himself inside you. You knew you should have been more careful; you should have thought of protection, but all you cared about was how he felt against you, his hand moving to your thigh to hold you in place as he thrust into you, angling your hips so he rubbed up against that perfect spot inside you.

Without warning, he shifted back to pull you on top of him, positioning you in his lap, placing his hand on your hip and grinding you against him. His other hand reached up to cup your face, forcing you to look up into his eyes, his own wide and desperate. He rubbed his thumb over your cheek, his other hand grabbing your ass as he rocked you against him, his voice throaty as he rested his forehead against yours, “You feel so fucking good.” His hand moved from your ass and grabbed your hand, pushing it down between your bodies, his voice desperate and pleading, “Come on, baby, make yourself feel good for me.” You weren’t one to deny yourself pleasure, so you did as ordered, pushing your hand between your bodies and beginning to rub circles around your clit, feeling that familiar pressure build in your core, shifting your hips against him to angle him more perfectly, and he rubbed his thumb over your cheek, “Just like that, sweetheart, come on.” He let you control the rhythm as you rocked against him, resting his hand on the small of your back, his voice strained, “Come on, darlin’, come for me.”

Your body couldn’t hold on for longer, your rhythm starting to stutter as you pushed down on him hard, trying to get him as deep as possible as you finished, your nails digging into his shoulders as he held you closely against him, whispering soft words of encouragement into your ear, “Just like that, sweetheart, just like that.” You let your head fall forward onto his chest as you rode out the last sparks of pleasure, and he wrapped his arm around your back, holding you against him, stroking your hair with his other hand.

Ghost was still underneath you, seemingly content to just have your pleasure, but you weren’t finished just yet. You shifted on top of him so you were straddling his lap, gently placing your hands in the centre of his chest and pushing him insistently. He looked at you questioningly, but he allowed you to lay him flat on his back, his hands sliding down your back and to your waist, allowing you to take control. You could feel the hesitance in his touch, and you began to rock your hips back and forth, feeling how his hands began to tighten on your waist, his head falling back onto the carpet, and his jaw clenching as he thrust up into you. You found your rhythm quickly enough, balancing on your knees as you rode him, feeling that familiar tightness inside you as he hit you just right, everything still sensitive from your first climax, your voice a breathy whisper as you slid up and down, “Fuck, Ghost.”

“Simon, it’s Simon.” His voice was tight, as were his fingers on your waist, beginning to pull you down onto him more forcefully, “Say my name.” You couldn’t help but reach back down to rub yourself again, feeling everything tingle and tense, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to keep the rhythm just right, “Fucking hell, Simon.”

The simple utterance of his name seemed to bewitch him, and he let out a deep groan, gripping onto your hipbones as he began slamming up into you, yanking you down to meet him every time, almost lifting you off his cock entirely before he buried it back inside you. You could see the frantic desperation in his movements and feel the tightness in his legs as his body began to tense up, but he slowed, panting out in short, heavy breaths, “I’m close, darlin’, I should probably-“ Both alcohol and arousal were clouding your better senses, and you dug your nails into his chest as you ground yourself against him, right on the verge of finishing yourself, the nail in the coffin of any intelligence, “Come in me, Simon.”

Ghost needed little encouragement, completely lost in the sensation of you finishing around him again, and he thrust forcefully inside you before sitting up and pushing you down to the floor once again, pulling your legs tightly around his hips as he fucked you hard, pounding into you fiercely, the carpet harsh against your back as he thrust deep into you one final time, growling out a throaty, “Fuck,” as he finished.

Not anything about your decisions had been smart, from fucking Ghost to letting him finish inside you, but you just couldn’t summon the energy to care anymore. He felt too good, and you’d needed it; you’d needed an excuse to break free of the constraints. He collapsed to your side as he pulled out, yet brought you with him into a tight hug, burying his head in your shoulder, breathing in the scent of your hair as his heart slowed. Nothing was said, but nothing needed to be said, and you simply enjoyed the closeness, resting your head against his chest, the dark thoughts in your head blissfully silenced.

[klutzyroses]

Hold Me Tight Series💖- Vlad

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Vlad x Reader

Word Count: 1160

Summary: She was his flower, the blooming rose of his life. So why were there tears staining her beautiful face?

Tags: Female reader, fluff, cuddles and kisses

Story #2 of the Hold Me Tight series. For the Vlad ladies!

He ambled through the door to the garden, his eyes searching, seeking, then finally finding what he sought. His heart both ached and sank at once when he saw the one he was looking for. He had found her, yes, but he had been hoping to find her in a better state. Smiling, cheerful, at peace, like she always was, rather than this. His beloved lay on the grass, like a wood nymph surrounded by flowers, her hair spread out like a halo. Truly, she was beautiful, he always knew that. None of the flowers that surrounded her could compare and yet…what’s this? Why were there tears glistening her eyes? Why was her chest heaving with the effort of holding them back? His feet, rather soundless in their steps, brought him to her until they were parallel to her head. Her eyes, such beautiful eyes they were, flickered over to him, though she made no effort to get up. She simply stared up at him, that devastating look of sorrow piercing through him. It was no different than looking into the eyes of someone as they were drowning. That's what came to mind because those shining irises were swimming with tears, so much so that they threatened to spill over. There is a look of silent pleading, pleading to pull her out of the depths, before she sunk below where she could not be found. 

He soon found himself kneeling carefully by her, maneuvering until he was laying beside her, yet reversed from her position, looking directly into those teary orbs. She turned her head to meet his gaze, wordless, with those lips he loved to kiss pursed tightly together. Yet he could just about detect the slight tremor they had. And soon he felt it firsthand when he leaned his head closer to hers, softly brushing his lips against those plush ones. It wasn't so much a real kiss as it was a brief contact between lips, it could almost be called unintentional, if she didn’t know better. They don’t speak for a moment as he takes her in. Even in emotional distress, she was still beautiful, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to see her sadness disappear.

“Why so sad, my flower? Why have I found the loveliest flower in this garden…wilting?” His voice was soft, filled to the brim with need, with the need to understand, the need to comfort the love of his very long life. He reached across, his fingers skimming across her face, moving a stray strand of hair out of her lovely, melancholic face. She observed him doing so, not saying anything until his hand moved away.

“I’m…I…” She swallowed, worsening the tightening in her throat as her words got stuck, refusing to come out. It was as though she were trying to speak through a mouthful of mud. She watched the red of his eyes, the vibrance of the color, so intense, yet so gentle, so full of adoration that it made her tears fall down her cheek as she bit her lip, as though it would help stem the waterworks.

It didn't. Those eyes she loved softened as he moved, pressing a kiss to her cheek, catching the stream of salted sorrow on his lips. She shuffled a little closer, flipping onto her side to face him, a look of misery taking over her features. Her lips shakily parted to try and speak again, this time succeeding to an extent.

“I’m…I’m alright. I am, really. I just…It's just been a bad day, that’s all.” She took a deep breath and tried giving him a reassuring look, not very effective as her face was so teary and vulnerable. His eyes softened more, though his face was patient, a little hard to read, yet attentive, from what she could tell. She didn't know what else to tell him really, if she was being honest. She didn’t have a concrete reason for her current mood, none that was coherent enough to verbalise in any case. It was embarrassing to have him see her this way. So broken up over what she perceived to not be such a big deal. Not worth laying here, crying her eyes out, she couldn’t help but feel pathetic about it. But she didn’t have time to dwell on that when she again felt the brush of his lips on her cheek. She instinctively closed her eyes when they caressed her once more, rising slowly and surely as they left tender, barely there kisses towards her tear laden eyes. 

“Vlad…” A timid murmur, barely audible, would've been missed if she weren’t so close to him. Yes, close to him and not just meaning the physical proximity. She was always with him, as far as he was concerned, she never strayed far from his thoughts. And he wouldn’t have it any other way, in fact, he’d brought up the idea of her spending eternity by his side, to be with him always.

“Will you tell me about it? Allow me to make it better?” Such sweetness coated his voice, the sound carrying her away from the pain, just for a moment as if to allow her a reprieve. She couldn’t deny such a tempting offer, tinged with a hint of the innocent desire to make his beloved feel better, yet also contained the protective need found in a man who worried for his lover. 

“Please…make the pain go away. Just for a little while.” She knew what she was asking of him and she knew that he understood what she was asking of him and he was more than happy to oblige. Turning to face her head on, he murmured softly to her.

“Sleep on the edge of dreams.” Plunging her into a peaceful world where it was just the two of them, the endless blue sky and the river of flowers in bloom, surrounding them with comforting scents. But all paled in comparison to him.

To her, there was nothing that could comfort her the way he did with just his presence, the subtle timbre of his voice, the rose of his eyes, that were tenderly gazing upon her. She sighed in contentment as her forehead rested against his, her eyes fluttering closed as a last rogue tear slid down her face, just for him to catch it.

She remained awake, despite having her eyes closed, because she didn't want to miss a single moment with him. And he knew it too, because he didn't stop his adoring whispering, the sweet words melting her sadness away, making her wonder why she hadn't just gone to him to begin with, when he was so good at making the pain go away.

“Just for a moment, let me make the pain go away. Stay with me, in this beautiful world, where nothing can hurt you.”

And she was more than happy to give in to that request. 

Just for a moment.

🌸

[soaps-mohawk]

Hey there! Thought I’d pull up because of Chapter 40 of CRCB. I know you said it was a filler but it was a nice little read. I enjoyed it. I’m so glad you were able to take your break (btw kyletober was INCREDIBLE) and that you’ve gotten away from CRCB. As I writer I can understand quite a bit. It gets old after a while. Your writing is just as beautiful as it has always been and the cliff hanger has me SO anxious as to what is to happen next with the pack. Ngl I am very ready for some fluff and comfort for our poor girl.

On a sadly more serious note I must also say that I share your devastation with the election results. It was truly so upsetting last night to watch the country turn red. Knowing what that means not just for me personally but also for the whole world is truly heart breaking. The next four years might be rough but we can all stick together and make it through. I find a lot of solace knowing that around 47% of Americans are also sharing our pain and won’t be content until Trump is out of office. If you or anyone else who reads your page needs anything I am so here for you guys.

Okay back to nice stuff lol. My last little rant to you would be that you’re doing AMAZING and that I know for a fact your stories bring a lot of joy to a lot of people. We all appreciate the hard work you do. Make sure to rest and take care of yourself R :)

Aww thank you!! I'm glad you enjoyed Kyletober and it really was such a necessary break. I'm feeling nice and rested and refreshed.

I'm really glad you enjoyed chapter 40!! I was unsure about it because it felt weird going back after a month and honestly I kind of forgot at first what it was like writing for the characters. I'm glad you still enjoyed it even if it felt a bit clunky to me. Filler chapters are hard for me sometimes.

I was so upset yesterday. I'm glad I work from home because I cried so much. It's a grieving process really and it's important to allow yourself to feel those emotions around it because it really is devastating and the implications this will have not just on American history but world history as well is just...it's hard to believe for lack of better words. Building community really is important right now for support to get through this. We will get through this though and we'll live to see the other side.

Thank you again, though. I really appreciate the kind words and I'm trying to take care of myself. It's hard right now with work picking up and now everything else, but I'll be alright.

[kanekoii]

After seeing the Ren one i felt like asking this (sry)

Can I req Pom (maybe Elira and Selen too) where reader doesnt really take care of themself? They been feeling really bad and miss meals, dont drink water, sleep little? Almost hurt themself once? (If this is uncomfortable then maybe just a reader having a hard time?)

lyra’s notes -> this kinda stuff is always okay if it’s for comfort! i’m happy to help someone feel a little better <3

pairings -> pomu rainpuff, selen tatsuki, elira pendora x gn! reader

genre -> comfort scenario

song -> scars - stray kids

warnings -> food mentions, bathing together in elira's (not sexually just cute fluffs), reader does a lot of sh in selen's oops i projected again sorry

POMU RAINPUFF ->

she’s going to notice right away, no doubt about it. she knows she can be a little oblivious sometimes but when your well-being is at stake she’s right there when you need her. when you first stop taking care of yourself, she’s concerned but she didn’t think it was as bad as it ended up being. if it’s all you can do to sit around and sleep for a while, she’ll gladly cancel a stream or two to spend time with you and hopefully make you feel even just a little better. pomu will do everything from make meals for you to helping you fall asleep. when you tried to hurt yourself and she found out, she was absolutely devastated. it hurt her heart to see you struggling so much and she didn’t notice the extent of it. she made a silent vow that day to be a better girlfriend and try to catch these things before they get this bad.

ELIRA PENDORA ->

she notices right away. if you're feeling even the slightest bit off, she's absolutely going to notice. it breaks elira's heart to see you not taking care of yourself, but she knows you just can't at the moment, so please let her take care of you. she'll run a warm bubble bath for you and hold you in the hot water, gently washing your hair if you don't have the energy to do so yourself. she would put on a bathrobe and tell you to stay in the water while she grabs some clean, comfortable clothes for you. elira would not leave your side until you're feeling better. she knows sometimes it's all you can do to cope when you hurt yourself, and she would never, EVER get mad at you for that. she just wants to help.

SELEN TATSUKI ->

it might take her a little while to notice and grow suspicious of the way you're always covered up now. she won't judge, she just wants to help you in any way she can. if it's not streaming for a while to take care of you, she'll gladly do so. doesn't matter to selen, as long as you're still alive that's what matters most to her. she'll cook for you, snuggle you until you fall into a deep sleep, clean and bandage your wounds, anything you need she will gladly do. she really doesn't like when you skip meals, so please eat the food she cooks for you because it breaks her heart to see you struggle so much.

[sneakyswag]

2, 16, and 20 for the writer's ask game?

2. Is there a least favorite character or title you dislike writing for?

Hm. Pretty hard to say. All the stuff I write about is important to me in a way. I’d say Twisted Desire, which is a fic based off of [this post] I’m STILL writing the prologue for. I want it to be absolutely beautiful and as presentable as possible. I know writing isn’t meant to be easy, but I want to tone it up a notch by using techniques and ideas I’ve never used before. Executing all of that is exhausting, yes, and I’m only half way through planning the entire story. (It will perhaps contain 20-30 chapters, depending on how much I decide to write). Characters though? Probably just a side character I need to write two lines for but since it’s only two lines it has to be perfect like sorry I don’t make the rules. (I’m being held at gunpoint by myself).

16. Any ideas you wanted to write about, but never did?

Yeesh, lots! A lot of them are shower thoughts if I’m being completely honest. I had an idea years ago about Bass (Forte) and Dark Pit kind of being best friends or roommates due to their similar personalities, but now that I think of it, they’d probably loathe each other. Also had an idea of Bass owning a bike shop or a mechanics shop and working there. I might write it in the future. It was supposed to be a BassRoll fic because man I love that ship it’s hilarious. Also had a lot of Axl, X and Zero angst but man ask my mutuals, I’m always talking about angst, hah! Also some fluffy ones here and there, but you know, just couldn’t get around it. If I haven’t written it, it’s because I haven’t written it down on the nearest piece of paper or notes app and forgot. So yeah :D

20. What’s one thing you want your readers to know about you?

This might get just a tiny bit personal but it’s fine but just in case yk.

Anything that I write, whether it be angst, fluff, adventure, etc, is based off of a real experience in a way. People tell me that my angst hits them hard or is so devastating, or that my fluff is so adorable it makes them melt. Truth is, stuff I write, is still I can’t feel anymore. I write about anger at times, I don’t get angry a lot. I write about sadness a lot, I can’t remember the last time I cried. Here’s something I tell myself a lot: I draw and write stuff to make characters feel things that I can’t feel. Don’t get me wrong, I do feel sad, I do feel angry, I just don’t express it. Also on a lighter note, I love reblogs, likes, comments, random questions, participating in little games with my mutuals. It’s all so fun! So yeah, you can ask me anything. I love messing around on here!

[aimfor-theheart]

i just read neon crush and i am OBSESSED with the dynamic reader has with denki n kats n kiri!!!!! OBSESSED!!!! generally speaking your writing just evokes so so much emotion. i needed a pick me up after coin toss cause i cried so bad reading cause i didn't realize it wasn't a happy ending and i was (still am) incredibly devastated over it. its one of the best shigaraki fics ive ever read and ill forever mourn the loss of their relationship with them. i think id lose my entire mind if there was ever a second part to it where they find each other again or (god forbid) reader gets caught up in the war in a devastating way. you have such a way with words and i cannot WAIT to see how neon crush proceeds!!!! it had me giggling and kicking my feet, which is a crazy 180 from how miserable i was over shigaraki 2 hrs ago. you think the endgames gonna be poly or just denki ?? id love to see how sweet kiri would be with reader, hes such a sweetheart in this but i could also see him being a little teasingly mean the way kats is (after all theyre not besties for nothing). sorry if this is a bit all over the place, ive js been binging ur writing and i wanna pick ur brain so bad, its so huge and im in love w it thank u <3

i have been hoarding this ask because it is so kind and i keep rereading it jfkdjskajdjksa

i definitely wrote neon crush after coin toss because i also needed something light!!! and all my mha fics previous to neon crush had been quite heavy and devastating and i wanted to be like look i can do fluff too!!! jfkdjska i’m so glad you enjoyed both tho!!! it means a lot to me that you read them and then took the time to drop me an ask about it 🥺💗💗💗

as for how the dynamic in neon crush will be…,..i imagine like the relationship is just denks and the reader but like…,.lowkey he lets his friends hit bc it’s fun for him HFKRJJEKWJA kats and kiri are sorta like bonuses for the reader..,,.,you know…,,.always in a threesome/foursome dynamic…,.

but thank you so much for being curious and wanting to talk!!! 🥺💗💗 this is so sweet of you!! thank you so so much! 💗

[queen-of-the-weenies]

The Bandit Queen's Bride: The Sounds of Camaraderie

Hello yes here have some nice campfire revelry and devastation

~~~

I’m a gods-damned fool.

Jin glared up at the stars peeking through the branches of the tree she laid under. Her bandits were drinking and making merry around the fire at the center of camp, celebrating Miski bringing two pocketfuls of treasure and Gelvin making a tidy little sum from gambling with sailors. Altogether, it was enough that the Bandit Queen felt comfortable sending Hale into town to purchase two barrels of ale, though she was starting to wonder if two barrels was enough. There were only eight of them, but Gelvin alone could empty half a barrel on his own. From the jovial chatter and laughter, it seemed like they had already polished off the first barrel.

She didn’t feel much like celebrating, though. Ever since returning to the stall to get more gold from Gallum, the old man had been giving her side-eyed looks. The way he smirked in amusement at her complete failure to woo a woman was a bit irritating. Sure, she’d been unlucky before, but this was different. If only that pompous fop hadn’t shown up, Jin might have had more time to work her charm.

A tic worked its way down her jaw, grinding her teeth gently together in annoyance. That man… Who was he? A nobleman, obviously, but was there more to it? Brother or cousin seemed unlikely. Fiance then? Or husband? Not that it mattered much to Jin. She’s had married women before, just as many times as she’d been rejected because of it. But today wasn’t a rejection… She had been interrupted. The possibility of having that blue-eyed beauty had been so close, and the loss of it haunted her all day long.

Not that it should matter either way. The others still had a job to do, and Jin would die before she became the cause of their misfortune. Especially for something as trite as getting laid. That man had glared at her briefly at the market, and while the Bandit Queen was fully confident in her ability to defend herself if he’d lashed out, she needed to avoid drawing attention while they were here. As a noble, the man was likely to be a pretty, arrogant little brat, more than capable of wrecking their plans.

She sat upright, using both hands to fluff her hair and shake away any dirt or tree debris stuck to it. Thoughts of the pretty redhead were shoved to the back of her head, buried deep to die out. Time to focus on the present. The light from the fire was abruptly blocked out as Tore wandered over to her, the smell of hay and horse musk washing over her. Jin climbed to her feet so she could wrap both hands around his muzzle, drawing the stallion’s face to her own, forehead pressed to his. Tore allowed her to hold him as such for only a moment before snorting and shaking his head, knocking her hands away. With a laugh, Jin patted his cheeks, then reached into her belt pouch to dig out a small cube of sugar.

“I shouldn’t be giving you these. It’ll be our secret, eh?”

Tore snorted again, then carefully ate the cube out of her hand. After another rub on his cheek, the Bandit Queen moved past him to finally join her band around the fire. Nearly everyone was a few mugs of ale deep, lending a slurred joyfulness to the way they shouted and greeted her. Gelvin moved over on the overturned log so she could sit beside him… And he nearly fell over in the process, leading to a chorus of raucous laughter. A mug was passed to her, a drink was taken from it, the mug was passed along to the bandit on the other side of Gelvin. Hale was in the middle of telling a wildly exaggerated story about riding his horse through a field of roses--there was a bear involved somehow? Jin must have missed the part that introduced it--and his wiry arms flailed about in animated motions, casting deep shadows against the tent behind him.

Merr and Miski were seated close together, sharing a mug of ale between them. The gold ring on Miski’s middle left finger glinted warmly in the firelight every time her hand moved. Merr had been late returning to camp because of that ring, but he’d been so proud of himself that Jin couldn’t even be mad about it. Miski was certainly pleased with the gift.

Gallum forwent the ale in favor of whittling a new figurine from a block of old wood. The old man liked to keep his hands busy. “To ward off the stiffness in my fingers,” he’d once explained. Beside him, twin brothers Oliver and Elijah were watching Hale with rapt interest. They were the youngest of her bandits at only thirteen years, but they had already proven multiple times to be just as capable as her more experienced thieves.

Hale’s story continued, taking many wild twists and turns; Jin suspected he was just making things up to keep the twins entertained. After a mug of ale had crossed her path a third time, she refused the next, choosing to stare into the fire and listen. The words of the story became a blur of noise passing unabsorbed through her head. She was so tired despite so little happening today. She really needed to get better sleep…

She was startled out of her budding sleepiness by a nudge on her back, followed by Tore’s muzzle coming to rest against her shoulder. With a smile and a soft “Hello Tore,” Jin lifted a hand to stroke his velvety nose. The horse’s body was warming the space between them, his scent filling her nose and compounding her drowsiness.

Maybe it was the sleepless nights before tonight. Or maybe it was the cozy warmth from all sides and the sense of safety that comes from being surrounded by those she trusted most. Her eyelids grew heavy, her head leaning against Tore’s, and before she knew it, she was dreaming of a mountain of gold and a blue-eyed beauty waiting for her at the top.

~

Gallum was the last one to still be awake. Jin had fallen asleep a few hours ago, and Tore was being remarkably patient about supporting her weight. The twins were next to go, knocked out after a few swigs of ale. Then Miski pulled Merr away to her tent, and neither of them had emerged. Gelvin next, finishing off the last mug of ale before toppling over to snore in a drunken slumber. Hale retired to his tent after that, leaving the old man alone at the fire.

The fire was burning low, and Gallum was considering whether to struggle to his feet and get blankets for the other two still present. Gelvin couldn’t afford to get sick and miss a day at the dock. Jin was even more susceptible to the cold than the giant man, but at least she had Tore huddled close to her for now. Honestly, what was he going to do with these two? He set aside the whittling project in preparation to stand.

“Hold it, old man. You stay right there.”

Shock lanced through his heart, but recognition followed seconds later, as well as relief. The voice had come from behind, gruff and warm and heartbreakingly familiar.

“Molly, I damn near forgot about you. ‘Bout time you returned to us.”

A woman stepped into sight as his head turned. Molly stepped over the log, then sat beside him, drawing her cloak tight around her body. She was thinner than the last time he’d seen her, and there was a faint new scar on her cheekbone, as if someone had thrown something at her face and split the skin. Gallum knew better than to touch her, but he couldn’t help gesturing at her face with his partially-carved wooden block.

“What happened?”

Her hand lifted to touch the scar, simultaneously flashing an iron ring around her little finger. That was new too.

“Some bandits caught me walking alone on the road. Jin has a little less competition out in the wild now.”

That was all she said and he didn’t press any further. Molly never liked talking about what she did when confronted with a fight. Her attention had already moved across the fire to where Jin was asleep sitting up, her balance maintained only by Tore’s head resting over her shoulder. The stallion watched them with one brown eye, unfailingly alert whenever his mistress was asleep. Silence stretched on for several minutes before Molly finally spoke again, asking about the bandits’ adventures of the last four months. As Gallum talked, Molly added some wood to the fire, then set to work mixing various herbs and berries in a bowl. Her skirt was lined with pockets, her belt laden with pouches, and two satchels were strapped across her torso; from each one, she pulled a different ingredient to mix with another.

By the time he was finished, she had mixed up several pouches-worth of medicine, each one marked with colored thread sewn in a little X. As she handed the pouches over, Gallum dared to speak.

“You should stay ‘til mornin’. The others’ll be sad that they missed you.”

He wasn’t expecting her to respond--she rarely did when it came to the subject of interacting with the others. So he was a bit surprised when her gaze rose to his face, her dark eyes laden with exhaustion and sorrow.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.”

It was the answer he expected, but still, his heart ached. In the beginning, he had begged her to stay, to give him just another minute with her… But over the years, he’d learned to let go. She knew her duty. The faster he accepted it, the less it would hurt to watch her walk away yet again. Against the pain in his very soul, Gallum nodded once, then gathered the pouches and struggled to his feet.

“Good luck out there, Molly. I’ll tell ‘em you stopped by with new medicine.”

Molly stood as he did, placing her mixing materials back into their designated satchel. The two looked at each other… Seconds stretching on for eternity… Then she turned away from him, breaking the connection, and walked away from the fire. Gallum was rooted in place, his old eyes straining to keep track of the wild tangle of blonde hair as it faded into the shadows between the trees.

And just like that, he was alone again.

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