#if there’s any more tws i should add pls tell me

[gaydexvocaloid]

testing brushes with a hello charlotte sprite redraw ^_^

[cattlemons]

Third Fifth Time's A Charm

| You and Megumi have been dating for quite some time now. Almost half a year, give or take. Upsettingly enough, he has yet to say his ‘I love you's. This bugs him a bit too much so Megumi is now a man on a mission and that mission just so happens to be about confessing his love to you. Basically the four times Megumi almost dropped the “L” word and the one time that he did. I mean come on, fifth time’s a charm, right?

TW: None, I think? I wrote it with college!au in mind but can be read as just a normal jujutsu kaisen fic Just fluff after posting angst, megumi gets chased by a duck? idk what counts as a tw pls let me know if I should add anything, also actual big boy writing cus word count is 3k.

---

Crumbs, ducks and hold on a minute... 

It was around October when the leaves were finally falling and the air was brisk. Megumi had decided to take you out for a mini-date before finals week whisks the both of you away, each secluded in their own world of ink and paper. 

It had honestly gone mostly ok and as planned. The usual schtick, really. Compliment your pretty outfit, exchange loving banters on the way there, get to the park and enjoy your time together. Simple and easy, right? 

Wrong. 

Megumi and you had just finished eating the sandwiches he’s prepared for the picnic. They were wrapped so neatly in pink patterned paper that you can’t help but swoon at the time and effort it must’ve taken for him to prepare it all. 

Megumi took to the toilet a bit after that, or, he planned to. What he didn’t see coming is the fact that ducks started chasing him around right as he walked past the pond. You soon learned that they were chasing him because of the bread crumbs falling off of his jeans. 

After a few bouts of running on Megumi’s part (and giggles from yours), the ducks finally stopped following him. Opting to squawk at the couple on the other side of the pond that’s actually trying to feed them crumbs and seeds. 

Megumi soon found relief as he sat back down beside you still huffing and puffing from the unexpected marathon he ran. Of course, you being the compassionate girlfriend that you are, did not let him off easy. At least, not without teasing him a bit. 

“You know those ducks have really good taste in men,” you quipped. A few beats of silence pass before the two of you erupt into a fit of laughter. 

You were nearly in tears as you continued to giggle uncontrollably at the mental image of Megumi getting chased and flirted with by ducks. Though you probably won't find your laughing any special, Megumi found it absolutely breathtaking. 

From the way your eyes brighten at the hilarious image to the sound of your held-in guffaws, Megumi just can’t get enough of it. He wants to hear it over and over again. He absolutely loves it. 

And he absolutely loves you.

Wait, huh?

Watson, how do you say “I love you”?

“Finally! No more stuffy libraries and definitely no more books! I’m so happy it’s over,” you yelled as you stretched out your tired back. 

Finals are over and you can now rest without worrying. However, it’s a whole other story for Megumi. He is still stressed out of his mind but not because of the reason you might think. No, he is stressed because he has yet confessed the feelings hidden deep in the recesses of his heart.

I love you. 

Who knew such simple words could drive one mad. Megumi never would’ve thought the stress his feelings would bring could trump the amount of stress an exam would bring but he supposes that he can only be so many times. 

Megumi has decided that maybe he should tell you the three words that have been plaguing his mind. So a few days after some much-needed rest, Megumi proposes a little trip to the art museum. Who were you to refuse such a sweet request?

Dressed in his most academic-looking attire, Megumi readies himself for his little confession, going so far as to script it. 

Yes, today he will confess!

Today he did not confess.

It really was the perfect moment. Megumi feels absolutely horrible for letting such perfect timing pass him by but nothing could be done about it now. 

The perfect timing came by when you were nearing the end of the date. It was a really fun date, possibly one of the best ones so far! Megumi had shown you around the museum, giving fun tidbits of information on each art he sees. You were about to point out how knowledgeable your boyfriend was before it finally clicked. 

“Ah! My dear Watson, I think I’ve solved the mystery. It turns out the Duke of Information, Megumi Noritoshi, has done ample research before this date! Proof in the pudding, Watson, look at his palms,” you teased as you took his hands into yours and pushed back his sweater sleeves to see smeared notes on his earlier “fun facts”.

Megumi’s face turned pink as he flushed at your exposing of his secret. Muttering a small, “Blimey, I’ve been caught!” in response to your little skit. 

Seeing him blush and flustered has you grinning (not that anyone could blame you, it really is a cute sight). Taking your chance, you decide to tease him a bit more. Opting for light nudges of your elbow and soft kisses all over his face. This, of course, did nothing to ease the red spilling all over his cheeks. If anything it painted more colors on his face. 

Once the teasing died down, you decided to maybe be a bit more heartfelt. After all, he did prepare for your date and put in so much effort to learn these facts and information. 

“I might not say this enough but I absolutely appreciate you putting this much effort into our dates… maybe I have not been vocal enough  about these things but I hope you know I really do appreciate you doing this and… I love you,” you mumbled a tad bit quieter than you usually would. You’re even caught sporting a light blush of your own despite you trying your best to keep a nonchalant front. This isn’t your first time telling him you love him but, still, being so heartfelt like this has you blushing.

Megumi smiled at his usually unbothered girlfriend being so, well, bothered. 

Wrapping his hands around your waist, he goes to give you a small peck on the crown of your head before leaning in a bit more to whisper his confession. 

I love you!

Yet the words did not seem to tumble out. Although a bit disappointed in his lack of confidence, Megumi recovered quickly and instead leaned in for a sweet kiss. 

I wonder if fishes have confessions too?

“Megumi look! They’re so pretty,” you exclaimed excitedly as you pointed at a jellyfish swimming past. Megumi nods in agreement though he is honestly paying more attention to you than the exhibit.

Megumi has taken it upon himself to set up another good date  to confess on. Truth be told, he’s had far too many nightmare-ish thoughts about his recent failures in confessing and how he’ll never be able to say it. So, to take action, Megumi decides to take you on another date. This time he decided that maybe visiting an aquarium would be fun!

He is sorely mistaken, unfortunately.

As you continue to walk through the exhibit, you fail to notice Megumi lagging a bit behind you in the aquarium tunnel. Your attention was so fixated by the fishes swimming over your head and on each of your sides, that you missed the sight of your boyfriend darkly muttering (and struggling) on his confession script. 

Or so he thought...

“Honestly, why can’t I just be a fish-”

“Why would you want to be a fish though?” you asked as you leaned in towards him. 

Megumi’s eyes widen in surprise at your sudden intrusion. Megumi supposes that he’s been too lost to the world. He shook his head and just muttered a quiet “never mind”. 

The day continued as you enjoyed your day. You feast your eyes on magnificent sea creatures both great and small; you can’t help but awe at them as a child would. Not that Megumi minded, he thinks you look absolutely adorable when you coo at the sharks or clap at the seals when they would do a trick. However, Megumi couldn’t say he’s enjoying today as much because he continued to struggle with his little confession script, either chickening out at the last minute or completely missing the perfect timing. 

By the end of the day, Megumi decided enough is enough. Under the dim lights of the empty “deep sea” sector of the zoo, Megumi closed his eyes and steeled himself. Summoning every bit of courage he had within him, he blurted out his confession. It was a bit aggressive and loud, perhaps even a bit rushed. 

But he did it-

-not.

Megumi opened his eyes, to be greeted not by your soft smile. It wasn’t even your frown. Instead, he was greeted by a fish staring directly at him through the aquarium glass. It seems to be mocking him, almost. And as for you, you were already at the other side of the area, lining up to pay for a souvenir that caught your eyes. 

Ugh, why can’t he just be a fish and blow bubbles at you to show his love? 

Wine is a  poetic mood-setter, right?

Although tired and defeated by his numerous failed attempts, Megumi is not one to give up. This is especially true when it comes to you. So, if one plan fails then best be known he is already running back to the drawing board to come up with a new one.

This time around Megumi decided to pull up on all the stops. Sparing no expense, he reserved a table at one of the city’s most high-end restaurants. I mean what could be more romantic than a late-night wine-and-dine?

To Megumi it’s not the pricey menus that are troubling, nor is it the number of strings he had to pull to get the reservation. Nope. What’s troubling him is the confession he is secretly building up to. You see, it’s been a good handful of months since Megumi came to the realization that he absolutely adores you. 

He loves you.

Yet, somehow, saying it out loud is a whole different league than thinking and coming to terms with it. Something about admitting it and posing vulnerable seems so jarring to him. Of course, you’ve never given him any reason to fear being honest with you. He supposes that if anything were to cause him to be this certain way, then it’s probably the lack of touchy-feely emotions in his childhood. That aside, Megumi is still as determined as ever to tell you that he loves you. This brings us to the current situation. 

Megumi is seated opposite of you, decked in his slickest suit and tie. You had admitted that he looks ridiculously good in his outfit before the dinner (he blushes at the comment). Naturally, you were also in a rather stunning number yourself, with the scandalous-looking outfit only you could possibly pull off. 

As much as Megumi would love to just admire you and enjoy the amazing atmosphere, he has other things currently occupying his head. At first glance, you might’ve thought that he was flustered by your choice of outfit for the night if you didn’t know any better. This is, of course, one of the reasons why Megumi was a bit dazed but sadly that’s not the only reason why. 

You didn’t really connect the dots right away. There are a bunch of little crumbs and pieces that could’ve contributed to Megumi’s flustered and jumpy attitude in this particular evening but nothing defining. 

The evening progressed and more telltale signs showed themselves to you. You could honestly write a meter-long list but to keep it concise, the things you have noticed include Megumi’s inability to look you directly in the eye, the rather incessant twiddling of his thumbs, the stutter that accompanied his usually leveled voice, and finally (and the most telling) is his avoidance of the word “love”. 

Of course, it could all be a coincidence but you think not. Although you didn’t do much to garner his “suspicion”, you’re not daft nor were you ignorant. You knew of his struggles in dropping a particular “L” word. You had honestly known for a while. It’s not that you were a psychic or anything of that sort, it was actually because Megumi had not been the most secretive of his plans. You suppose he intended for it to be a “hush-hush” plan but unfortunately for Megumi, he had a tendency to think out loud when stressed. 

Though you were originally planning to let Megumi off the hook and let him figure things out on his own, you decided that leaving him to wallow on his own is doing more harm than good. So when Megumi choked rather aggressively at his pasta when you said the word “love”, you chose to bring up the topic. 

“So, when are you gonna tell me what’s been cooking up in that head of yours… hmm?”

Megumi’s eyes widened at the question you’ve just asked, though it seems more like a prompt than a question. Megumi looked down to his lap for a second before facing you again, this time sporting an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. 

Megumi struggled to confess before letting out a defeated sigh and a small apology. This caused you to shake your head, not in a dismissive way but in a way to tell him that there’s nothing to be sorry for. 

“Megumi, I know you know I know so I’ll just say it outright,” you huffed before continuing, “I love you’s aren’t something you can or should force out. I’ve said it to you on countless accounts because it comes naturally to me, love. I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel cornered into saying it but please know that I don’t mind you taking your time, ok?”

Your little speech was met with a relieved sigh and soon followed by a laugh. You look up to see Megumi’s genuine grin in place, you can’t help but smile at the endearing sight. 

“Ahh, I should’ve known not to stress over these kinds of things when it’s with you, huh? Thanks. I’ll definitely take my time with it.” 

You nodded in agreement at his newfound determination. As much as you wanted to hear those three words tumble out of his lips and uttered to you, you knew better than to rush him into it. And besides, hearing it in full sincerity will definitely be better than hearing a rushed one. With all that said, you and Megumi enjoyed the rest of the evening with wine glasses raised and the air filled with happy chatters and laughs. 

And I thought it was difficult, huh?

A streak of light shone through the gaps in the curtains, making it known to you that it is time to get up already. Or, at least, it would be time to get up had it been a weekday. Thankfully, however, it is the weekend so you can take your time in getting up. While your boyfriend slept soundly beside you, his hand draped loosely over your figure, you can’t help but admire his features. As you did so, thoughts on what happened a while back popped into your head. 

 It’s been a few months since your last dinner date with Megumi and things have calmed down quite a bit. Although Megumi still feels a twinge of guilt from his lack of response whenever you whisper an “I love you”, he does remember your take on this situation, and those few words you spared have done immense work in calming him down. 

As you continue to reminisce on the events that have transpired in the last few months, you failed to notice Megumi stirring awake beside you. You only notice that he’s awake when he’s poking your cheek, asking, no, demanding petulantly for his morning kisses. 

Deciding to tease him a bit while he’s still in his morning daze, you uttered, “Sorry, love. Morning breath.” You went as far as sniffing at his general direction and fanning your hands over your nose and scrunched your nose up in fake disgust. 

Still in a sleepy stupor, Megumi pouts at you and goes to get out of bed. You decide to let your curiosity win and end up following your boyfriend to the bathroom, the cold linoleum tiles doing wonders in waking the two of you up immediately. 

Though he is now much more awake now than a few minutes ago, it didn’t dampen his pout one bit. With the handle of his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, Megumi babbled on about how his day is now ruined because you wouldn’t let him start it off with a kiss. You only giggled in response, your own toothbrush poking out of your lips. 

Being the menace that you are, you decided to playfully smear Megumi’s face with some toothpaste foam. One thing led to another and soon you two are on the bathroom floor laughing aloud. Somehow his laugh and expressions egged yours on and yours did his which caused a new bout of laughter to erupt every time you’d both fall silent. It went on like this for quite some time but neither of you minded it one bit.  

Now that the laughter has died down a bit, you both exchanged mini banters here and there, still seated on the floor with both your shoulders touching; with toothpaste in your hair and on his cheek. As you giggled at a particular joke Megumi muttered, he felt that odd feeling in his heart again, just like the time in the park and all those other dates he stressed over but this time, before he could stop it, he whispered…

“I love you.”

Your laughter immediately ceased only to be replaced by the happiest grin you’ve ever mustered. With new buzzing energy coursing through you, you tackled Megumi into a hug which effectively knocked the two of you down to the ground but neither you nor Megumi minded.

With his newfound confidence, Megumi repeated the foreign sentence over and over again as if he’s testing it out. He finds that he likes saying it. 

He likes it because your smile widens a bit more when he says it. 

He likes it because you’d give him kisses whenever he says it.

And he absolutely loves it because you’d always say it back to him.

With a wobbly and lovesick grin, Megumi says it one more time for good measure. 

“I love you.” 

a.n. I did not really proofread this bcs I had classes today and it KO'd me :"(

Hope you liked it!

[tencrushesperday]

Now I Can See You - Rutger McGroarty

summary : when did things get so complicated ? They always get complicated when you overthink. Maybe if you acted more with your heart and less with your head you wouldn’t be locked up in a room with Rutger.

pairing : rutger mcgroarty x junior! reader

TW: implications of sex, insecurities (idk if it’s really a tw but better to be safe than sorry)

a/n : you just KNOW i had to use a Taylor song name for the tittle. i wrote this one a few weeks/ months ago and @sillinger said i should post it so here it is. idk what i did here and honestly i’m not good with criticism so if u don’t like pls just ignore it <3

You and Jacob met in Algebra first semester of freshman year. Your friendship was strategic on both parts. You wanted to cut ties with your shy high school persona and become a free spirit college student who knows how to have fun. He needed to pass that Algebra class. It was a win-win relationship : you passed him your notes and explained to him what he didn’t understand and he invited you to hockey or frat parties. Getting along also kinda helped.

Therefore, for the next few years, you became inseparable at parties. Beer pong partners, couch interlocutors, he would always have his arm swung around your shoulder. If the sibling energy wasn’t so prominent your friends would have assumed you were a couple. But you always had each other’s backs and nothing even remotely ambiguous ever happened.

When in junior year, Jacob introduced you to the freshmen.

You thought Rutger was cute the moment you laid eyes on him.

You got to know later that the first impression was mutual because he would flirt with you any chance he got.

But he flirted with anybody anyway. You noticed after the few first parties that he was quite popular with the ladies.

Therefore you never took his comments seriously. You were looking for a serious relationship. He was probably looking for a new conquest to add to his list.

It wasn’t something you were interested in.

Until that fateful night. You needed to take the edge of that night. You’ve had a stressful week before, filled with presentations and assignments to turn in. So, you - just- needed to relax. You’ve had a few of whatever Nolan had concocted you. Rutger complimented your dress when you where sitting on the stairs together. Everything happened fast that damned night.

After that it didn’t take long for the dress to find itself on the floor, and what needed to happen happened.

~~

In that moment you hated Jacob more than anything. Why did he have to go and meddle. You realise you should have never told him about Rutger.

At least you had the decency to not tell him how much you actually liked the freshman. You would have never heard the end of it.

But now you’re stuck in this room with him and you know that whatever Jacob is doing right now he’s not letting you out of the room before you and Rutger talk.

Yet he doesn’t seem like he has much to say, so you keep your mouth shut as well. You want to know what he’s thinking. You want to apologise for running away in the morning, for leaving him with a cold bed, for ignoring him afterwards.

But you know it’s useless. He doesn’t care. He probably slept with at least another girl since then. What was it a week, ten days, since?

You’re the one who would have wanted to wake up in the stupidly warm arms, pressed to his stupidly toned chest. He was probably relieved when he didn’t have to kick you out in the morning.

But the silence is awkward so small talk it is, you decide.

Yet the moment you start talking to ask how he’s doing, he interrupts you.

“Why’d you leave in the morning?” he sounds disappointed.

Wait. Does he?

You don’t know what to say so you just say what you truly thought since the beginning, “I didn’t want to wait for you to kick me out.”

He widens his eyes at you. Really it’s comical the way his mouth hangs open for a second before he asks “Is it really what you think of me? That I would have kicked YOU out in the morning?” He insists on the word you and you don’t know what to think of it.

You’re left speechless. What can you answer to that anyway, except for yes. He looks so offended already, that wouldn’t help.

“I know I’m just a freshman hockey player. But i thought.. with you being friends with Truss and all… maybe you’d have a better image of me… I thought… i thought i finally got you to look my way…”

Now it was your turn to look at him with wide eyes as you only manage to say one thing. “What?”

“It’s okay I understand it was a mistake for you. I’m younger and you probably don’t have the time to deal with me but can we please remain…”

What? No, no, no. After the word mistake not much makes sense to you. You don’t hear him anymore. Where did he get that idea?

“Wait. What? No, no, no. It was not a mistake for me, not at all. I just… I thought you wanted me gone after you got what you wanted… I… I thought you’d get bored of me and kick me out and start ignoring me after we slept together…”

You’re ashamed to admit how insecure you are.

“Is you esteem of me really that low?” Rutger’s question really surprises you. And is it pain you hear filling his voice?

“I genuinely like you, did since the beginning. And i couldn’t get you to see me. You always acted like i was a kid and I almost lost hope honestly. But I wanted you - I want you - so I kept trying to flirt with you. The moment you followed me into that room, I’ve never been more happy, and when you started kissing me back I swear I’ve felt more awake than ever. I just had to remember everything about you, about your body. I asked you what seemed like a thousands times to me if you were sure of what you wanted and you just kept shutting me up with new kisses until I gave in.”

The images he was depicting, you knew them all too well. You had replayed the night in your head too many times to count. It still gave you goosebumps.

“I’m so sorry” You knew he wasn’t done but you had to say it out loud. Still, you didn’t know if it was enough. You had hurt him in order to protect your own feelings, you could see that now. It was unfair to him.

“I am so so sorry Rutger. I never thought of you as a kid… Really. Never. I’ve noticed you since we met…”

Jacob’s room wasn’t so big but in this moment, as you took small steps towards Rutger, it seems miles long. You didn’t know what to say anymore. You wanted to tell him just how much you like him and how much you want him but the words wouldn’t get out. Being vulnerable has always been difficult for you and you’re so used to doing everything to protect your feelings.

But this is not on him and you know it. He told you everything he had to say. He said he liked you, he said he wanted you. Yet you still can’t believe him. Damn those insecurities.

“More than anything I’m sorry for being insecure. I was convinced you would get bored of me so I shut you out from the beginning. It wasn’t fair to you”

How can you tell him you like him too? And now he’s so close, he is all around you, and all you want to do is kiss him again.

“Do you really mean what you said earlier?” It may sound pathetic. It probably does but you have to be sure.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, just stares at you. Then he leans in and it’s enough of an answer.

[bp-zb1fics]

Can you do "cuddles and kisses with lee jeonghyeon", i'm glad if u do something suggestive like lap sitting maybe?? thank youu!!

Ridiculous but you're mine~

pairing: leejeong x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive themes (pls see tags!)

tw/tags: flirting, kisses, making out, hand-holding, lap sitting, non-explicit/implied s*x acts, korean pet names, leejeong being the biggest simp and pretending to hate it (spoiler: he doesn't)

wc: 1592

summary: jeonghyeon values a lot of things but he’ll make an exception for you

a/n Hi anon~ I may have gotten a little carried away with the suggestive part but I hope it's somewhat similar to what you had in mind and it's not too much. Kind of played with a different format writing this fic, idk if it works or not but I am very proud of how it turned out. Any readers for this, please, please do let me know what you think and if I should add additional tags to this, ty!

Check my pinned for more fics~

Jeonghyeon wasn’t a touchy person. Not at all. No thank you.

He’ll accept skinship if he’s feeling indulgent, he’ll freely offer a hug if someone needs it but aside from that, he generally likes to keep his personal space, well personal. 

Until you, that is. 

You don’t even need to do anything. It’s a little infuriating actually. 

You look at him and his brain completely short-circuits.

__________________________________________

“Leejeong-yah~”

He really regrets letting Mun Junghyun tell you about their “leejeong, mungjung cross.” God, that was embarrassing. And it was even more embarrassing because of how cute you thought it was and how cute he thought you were and now he has the displeasure of becoming even more flustered by his own damn name.

“Hmm?”

He’s putting his socks on, getting ready to go out because you wanted sushi and god forbid Jeonghyeon doesn’t give you what you want. It’s a little chilly so he throws on the black hoodie that you like because of how soft it is. 

He reaches for his earrings and his eyes meet yours in the mirror as he looks up to put them on. Jeonghyeon nearly drops the damned earrings. 

Don’t ask him to explain why. Literally no thoughts, head empty. He’s only beginning to recover when you walk over and give him a back hug, burying your face to the fabric of the hoodie while he just stands there, frozen like the idiot he is.

“Wahh so soft.” Your voice is muffled but Jeonghyeon is desperately fighting back the blush that threatens to bloom on his cheeks.

“We should go.” He manages to get out, glad that his voice didn’t crack.

__________________________________________

You hold his hand and any rational thought is reduced to ash.

__________________________________________

As soon as you get outside, the cold hits and Jeonghyeon immediately shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket. Before he can check on you, you’re already linking your arm with his and sliding your hand into your own pocket. Seriously, how can his heart take this?

“Are you cold?”

You shake your head, bouncing up and down a little. It’s very cute and really not great for his health.

“Sushi, let’s get sushi~”

You make your way to the restaurant. Jeonghyeon can’t help but look at you, glancing around occasionally to make sure you were following the right directions but eyes always coming back to you. And he can’t help but wonder what he had done right for the universe to decide to send you his way. Someone who loved him with all his scrappy imperfections and flaws.

Suddenly a gust of cold wind tickles the back of your necks and you yelp, one hand slipping out of your pocket and into his. Jeonghyeon freezes as you wiggle your fingers between his, pressing yourself closer like you want to sink into his side.

“It’s cold.”

You say in the way of justification, not like he even needs one. For the rest of the way, you walk like that and he can only ever feel your hand in his.

__________________________________________

You pout, just a little, and whatever values he has, personal, moral, family values, all out the window.

__________________________________________

The restaurant is a sushi train. You’re directed to a booth and left alone with a tablet in case you wanted to order something that wasn’t on the train.

Jeonghyeon begins taking plates. And it was only after you had a sizable serving in front of you that he realised he took all your favourites. Really, when did he become like this? When did it become an instant serotonin boost to see your face light up like that? 

“Leejeong say ahhh~”

He mindlessly opens his mouth and lets you feed him. It’s good. Any food that’s given by you is automatically better than any other food. He’s never been one for public displays but you look at him expectantly, your bottom lip protruding ever so slightly.

It’s like he’s been hypnotised, carefully picking up a piece and feeding it to you. And no, he’ll never admit to anyone how endearing it is to watch you eat, your cheeks puffing out as you chew.

He’s a weak, weak man. And it’s all your fault, seriously it is.

__________________________________________

It’s ridiculous. 

__________________________________________

You stumble back home, bellies full. Kicking your shoes off, you tug him towards the couch and switch on that one drama you insist he watch with you. Both of you started off seated. He sits cross legged while you tuck your feet to the side, his arm resting around your shoulder.

It’s not a new drama you’re watching. No, it's one of those that you like to come back to, one of those you watch without needing to think too hard or wonder what to expect. 

Junhyeon sighs as you lean against him, comfortably pressing against his side. He watches you fondly as you mimic the dialogue on screen, the audio almost like white noise at this point. Suddenly you’re reaching up, fingers skimming feather-light across his jawline leaving little sparks in their wake.

“So handsome~” You murmur, letting your thumb ghost below his bottom lip. Jeonghyeon’s breath stutters. 

“My Leejeongie, naekko!”

He’s going to die. You’re going to kill him. Belatedly, he realises that you’re just imitating the drama. Still, his stupid heart is ready to pound its way out of his chest. Before he can think twice, he gently grabs your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles. You go quiet. Before he can drop your hand, you pull yourself closer, nudging at him until you’re kneel-sitting between his thighs, his legs stretched out on the couch. 

You drop his hand in favour of resting your palms on his shoulders to balance yourself. His arms are limp by his sides. Jeonghyeon almost stops breathing as you lean forward, your noses nearly touching, trying to keep his cool. You peck the corner of his mouth. He’s an absolute goner at this point. 

For the next few minutes, he lets you litter kisses all over his face, sweet on his forehead, making his cheeks flush hot, his teeth clenching as your lips brush a trail along his jaw. You chip away at his sanity every time you bring your lips to his and pause just before they touch, leaving his mouth a little more dry every time. The last straw is when you bite playfully at his collarbones, giggling at the look of utter distress that washes over his face as you tease up his neck. By the time your lips once again ghost against the corners of his, his hands grab needily at your waist.

“Dammit aegiya, please.”

Jeonghyeon breathes out shakily and you flash him a coy little smile that does bad, bad things to his heart before you finally kiss him. 

__________________________________________

God, you’re ridiculous. 

__________________________________________

Jeonghyeon can’t stop kissing you. 

His teeth scrape slightly against your bottom lip and you gasp. Your tongue flicks out to drag across the roof of his mouth and something so good just bursts in his brain. Hands squeeze your waist again, you squeak and they stroke your sides as if to soothe, sliding down to rest on your thighs. You shift, gripping to the front of your boyfriend’s hoodie and just like that, you’re fully on his lap, straddling him.

If nothing, Jeonghyeon only gets needier.

He’s mouthing at your neck, tongue teasing mindless patterns at the places he knows are sensitive. The little noises that escape you set off tiny firecrackers in his head. Your hands clench uselessly before finding their way to his hair and tugging. Heat blooms at the pit of his stomach and he bites a little harder than he meant to. The strangled noise that it draws from you is delicious and your hips jerk forward, creating friction that has him groaning. His mind is empty, save for the thought of you, how desperate he is for you.

Fingers slip under this hoodie to fidget with the waistband of his pants, every touch against bare skin has him inhaling sharply, his eyes dark and pupils blown out, staring at you in a way that has heat coursing through your whole body. He’s become bold enough to rest his palms over your ass, slipping them into your back pockets and squeezing. Your hands go a little lower and he bites back a curse, resting his forehead on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. Any sense of composure is tossed aside, neither of you bothering to see where it’s gone.

It’s all shaky breathing, gasps swallowed up by lips on lips, fabric rustling and the desperate repetition of each other’s name like a plea to the universe to mould your bodies together so that you’d never be apart from each other.

Jeonghyeon’s basking in the afterglow, both of you struggling to catch your breaths. He’s as boneless as you are, languidly draping yourself on top of him, sprawling almost, limbs loose and liquid-like. You giggle and that’s when he notices the drama still playing in the background.

Hands reach for his own, and he swears he can see the stars in your eyes. You’re absolutely going to be the end of him. His heart and his mind and his body and his soul, dangling into the precipice that is you. It’s absolutely idiotic, letting himself drop in so deep, not caring about when he’ll have to hit the ground, running.

__________________________________________

And yet, he’s the one who’s ridiculous enough to fall for you, over and over and over again.

[rentheknightgale]

Thoughts on an ana/mia discord server?

If one already exists hmu. But I am also willing to make my own.

heres what my main rules would look like:

If you don't already have an 3d then don't join looking to get one. This isnt a place to get/start an ed but a place for people who already have it to talk. No coaches. This is for safety. Its okay to motivate people but no ana coaches as they are always no good. No fatphobia. I understand that fatphobia is woven into the fabric of 3ds but its still very harmful to decide that other people should change because of your opinions. This also means no f4tsp0, as it is inherently fatphobic. Keep your 3d to yourself, dont force it on anyone else. (this rule will be STRICT) Body checks are okay as long as they are in the dedicated channel and tw are put for si/sh. Also very little clothing is okay but no s3xualizing clothes or things that are meant to make you look s3xy. Also no br3ast or groin. Obviously. No substance talk. No no, nope. Talking about what meds you take is fine or whatever, but no promotion of alcohol, illegal dr-gs, vaping, grass or tobacco. Also no other forms of substance abuse, no matter how obscure. I am well versed enough to know the slick things and I know just how dangerous and horrible these kinds of things can get and while I can't stop you from doing it, I refuse to allow its influence to be spread. No homophobia, transphobia, ableism, racism, ect. I am also VERY well versed in minorities of all kinds and for these kinds of things its a one strike and you're out. If you say something and it comes off wrong then it will be a warning, but ignorance or hate will be immediately deleted. This would be a 17+ server strictly. oh, you're 16 and your birthday is in two months, nope. Got to wait. I wont ask for any personal info to prove age or anything of the sort, but If in some way I find out you are underage then you will be banned. NO CREEPS!!! I know redflags for gr00mers, and creeps. I will be on the look out. I have had other discord servers in the past where I had to put close friends on blast for creepy shit. I do not care if someone in the server is my best friend, if they are being a creep to you, you can tell me and I will take care of it. I wont shame you, or tell anyone who said something. I have been a victim too and had to go to court. I didn't get justice, I will not cause that kind of pain on even the smallest level to go without justice.

The last one is not even just for my discord server, but in general. If you are going through something my dms are open. Idc what the situation is, if you think you deserved it, if you are a boy, if they were a girl, if they were younger to you, if it was your partner. It doesnt matter to me. I'm here to listen, or to back you up if you want.

There would be other smaller rules, but these are the main ones. If theres some sort of issue with discord and why theres a reason people dont do this then also let me know pls. Also, if there are any other rules I should add, or questions put it in the notes or in my ask box and I'll answer!

Also, this would have a pretty thick authentication system. I hope I can figure it out. But I'm thinking some sort of level system where the more you are active the more access to the server you get. This will help with any raids or creeps. You would need to have quite a few days of talking in the main chat to get access to more and more channels. And the more sensitive ones (like body checking and vent) would be the kinds where you need to be talking daily for a week to get type thing. It sucks but I really need to weed out the minors, creeps, people who dont have 3ds and the like.

[phoenix--flying]

side character titan war aftermath vibes

(i do not know what i need to put TW for so pls tell me if i need to add something)

The Apollo cabin has hundreds of CDs, most of which they lose. Will keeps a few in the infirmary; Michael and Lee both burned CDs with their music and he plays those often when he's cleaning or alone. Both of those CDs had Stayin' Alive by Bees Gees since both of them liked it. Will forgot this little fact.

He'd been alone cleaning the infirmary after the titan war, playing music as usual when a certain song comes on. At first, he doesn't pay it any mind, then realizes what it is. Suddenly he's back in the elevator, covered in blood with a few bodies wrapped in different shrouds.

He finds out quickly enough that he's not the only person who can't listen to the song anymore.

bonus leo tries to play it in bunker nine with nyssa and jake once and jake just turns it off and whenever leo tries to play it again nyssa just stares at him Leo: ???? Nyssa: No.

Connor doesn't like Luke. Hates him, in fact. He's a monster, a traitor and a murderer. There's nothing else to it. He's not sad Lukes dead, why would he be? That's not his brother anymore. He stopped being his older brother the minute he started listening to Kronos. Luke deserves to be dead, and he's not sad. End of story.

He finds a photo of him and Luke. It was from before Connor had been claimed - Travis had been, he was still a little jealous of that one(did hermes just like travis more??). It was a bad photo, shaky since Luke had almost fallen while taking it. But the joy in the two boys' faces was evident. It was before Luke's quest, his face lacked the telltale scar Connor grew to hate. This photo was still his brother. His hero.

If Travis found him in the cabin, clutching the photo and sobbing, he didn't question it. Just provided the comfort his little brother required.

Jake can't stand being in the forges alone. A place he used to consider a safe place, it was like a second home. He loved the place, the heat was harsh, sure, but he'd found comfort in it. He couldn't be there alone anymore.

Being alone meant he had time to think about the space around him, remember. He couldn't stand hearing his late brother's voice, the memories of all that he was taught. Everything he knew, everything he taught his siblings, was all Beckendorf. Jake wasn't him, he never would be, he never wanted to be. He was nothing but a fraud. He couldn't handle the cabin like Beckendorf did, he wasn't a leader.

Nyssa never questioned it when he would ask her to accompany him to the forges late at night when they should definitely be asleep. She hated being alone there too.

Drew hated Silena, it was a known fact. Everything the late Aphrodite girl did, Drew hated. Of course, none of the new campers knew of her sudden shift in attitude, but then again, none of the older campers questioned it.

Drew loved Silena, she was her older sister, her best friend. She wanted to be exactly like her, her every move was fascinating. Silena was a goddess in the eyes of her younger sister. That image was forever marred.

How could someone so loving, so nurturing, do something like this? Drew didn't want to believe it. Silena had gone to get the Ares campers, she had been helping them, how could she be the spy? It wasn't possible.

She resented the fact. It shouldn't have been possible. Silena was too kind, to caring to betray them like this. Was it all a lie? Did she ever truly care about them? Her entire world felt upside down, nothing was right. If Silena was capable of something like this, was everyone around her? Who could she trust? She couldn't trust anyone.

Drew hated Silena. She hated the fact that her sister left her alone, she hated the fact that she could never get a proper answer. She hated that she didn't know why she would do this. She hated that she didn't know how she felt. She hated that she still loved her sister, hated that she missed her and hated that she felt empty without her.

Clarisse hates being alone. Being alone means remembering her voice, remembering her own mistakes. If she'd backed down and forked over the chariot, would he still be dead? Would she still be dead? Would they have had less casualties if she'd just swallowed her pride and sucked it up? She gave it to Apollo in the end, so what was the point? Why had it been Silena? Why couldn't it have been herself? She'd lost her own siblings, she hated that, watching her own sibling get eaten?

Ares doesn't show weakness, so she couldn't either. She was the Drakon slayer, but everyone around her was angry with her. Pulling out of the battle was a stupid decision, but all sense seemed to go out the window when it came to arguing with Michael. He'd just gotten much more irritable since the Labyrinth. She hated it.

She hated being alone.

Malcom didn't know how she did it. Annabeth carried their cabin with such strength and confidence. He wanted so badly to be upset with her, but he knew she couldn't lead their cabin. He hated that he wanted her to feel the guilt he felt watching their siblings die. But he had to, he was he second in command, it was his job to lead the cabin when she couldn't. But he wanted so badly, for her to feel how he felt. And it was wrong. She'd suffered so much for them, so why did he want to be upset with her?

He wanted to be upset with her but he didn't want to let her go. So when either of them woke up, panicking and crying from a nightmare, the other was right there. They may understand the others guilt, they may not. It didn't matter.

ignore my silly little drew rant. She deserved better writing, she was only there to make Piper look better(No hate to Piper I love her) and so many people forget her older sister literally got her face melted off. Not to mention the only cabin we know was there was Ares, pretty sure the other cabins were covering tunnels and bridges again. I might be wrong. Either way ✨️

I don't know if Malcom or Clarisse's made much sense. I feel like Malcom would have a lot of guilt in not being able to save his siblings in Manhattan since he's the one that lead them. He's aware Annabeth has her own guilt but he's young yk? He was like 13(inmyheadcannonsatleast) and leading his siblings to their deaths. Annabeth isn't much older but she has more experience leading their cabin. But in the end shes his older sister and he loves her. Clarisse has her own guilt about Silena and the chariot feud. Like if she'd given the chariot to Michael would he still be dead, would Silena be dead? If her cabin fought would the amount of death be lessened? Dunno

[rememberthe1fallofsnow]

Why I made this blog and who i am (intro)

I had a friend in the swiftie community. A brief friend, but a good one. They deleted their blog while I was asleep. Without telling me.

And this is why I’m not mad, and this is why this blog is dedicated to her.

This was our first interaction. As stated in my bio, I have BPD. A very severe case. Her acting flat, not wanting to be my friend for “no reason” (🙄 at myself), I’ve been doing so poorly lately that it should have made my bpd split hard. It didn’t. I gave her her space. I let her come to me.

There is an issue inside the swiftie community, and outside. We share it. Some swifties cheer on actual harmful things she’s done (that do NOT make her evil or undeserving of forgiveness). And some swifties, well—

A post I made.

And yeah. That was her.

I just want to point out that you calling swifties with actual psychotic breaks that ruin their life crazy or toxic or use the “word” delulu or any of that bs while singing any single line that even hints at taylor’s maybe psychosis???? Ur either an idiot, heartless, or just don’t know yet (ur likely the last one <3)

Some wonderful interactions that i very heartbreakingly, some of them are stolen by time

And she dmed me. A HUGE step. I talked to her for about an hour to help her feel better, then I had to go to bed for my mental health.

The next morning, she was gone.

So what is this blog about?

This blog is about and for swifties who either experience psychosis/BPD/anything that taylor represents very well whether she has it or not, OR people who swifties and want to be more respectful to the swifties who are currently and/or usually struggling more.

And who I am?

Hello! I am Gray, you can use they/them pronouns for us as we’re a DID system and that’s what we prefer! I’m getting a little tired, so I don’t know how much I can talk abt now, but asks are open! Any ableism w/o room for growth will be blocked and reported. We are bodily 23 (with alters of all ages, so pls give a tw before talking about anything sexual bc most of us like Taylor Swift so this is not like explicitly sfw or ns/fw.

Note on that before I continue: if u dont want to see ns/fw at all but would still like to follow, go to ur main blog, general settings, filters, and add the tag “ns/fw” and anything else u think might keep you comfortable/safe! Itll completely block it on ur feed with the option to click on it if u feel safe abt it.

That said, if a minor or ageless blog interactions with a post that has ns/fw stuff, I will immediately block. Minors are more than welcome to interact on this blog! But do not cross my boundary on this.

Any more questions? Ask box is open! <3

[honeystwiggypeach]

Yay!!

Could you do Toge Inumaki who meets a tiny reader (under 5ft) and is deaf so she uses sigh language. At first Toge was nervous to try and communicate until he realized they can talk through signing. Maybe everyone keeps joking about how they should be a couple but Toge is shy and brushes it off that they are just friends, reader is sad because she has developed feelings for him. The two are close friends, being the only two who can communicate freely though signing, but she wants more. Angst to lovers?

Ok bestie im getting to this request now and I’m going to go feral…because I want to write those two dad!Toji requests sitting in my inbox quickly because wth?????? I love this idea, honestly I feel like Inumaki would definitely benefit from using sign language!!(keep in mind I never finished watch so idk the whole plot but I also never finished haikyuu and I’m doing fine!)

Tw-kinda angst, reader is deaf, not short because idk how to really write that I’m on the tall side anyways but I think if there was more of a scenario where I could add in that detail I would have! Megumi has to translate, reader hates having to use megumi as a translator! Pls let me know if any of this is written wrong or badly because I want to get this write and I will correct it!!

Inumaki was incredibly nervous when he met you, but he noticed you didn’t speak very much at all. You’d always talk with your hands and as he watched from a distance that’s what he assumed you were doing, he assumed you were just expressive!

He feared getting to close to you, he thought you must have been an Angel and he wasn’t going to risk accidentally speaking with you.

So of course when you’d gone up to him and signed, “inumaki? Right?” He had no clue what you were saying and Megumi who’d grown up with you had to play translator.

Neither you nor Megumi liked it very much so you’d began keeping to yourself, it wasn’t fun when you had to have someone explain your joke verbally it ruined everything.

So of course when everyone learned sign, even Inumaki you were excited.

Always trying to talk with them and even coming out of your shell again. Only one who had yet to sign was Inumaki.

And that upset you because you liked him…a lot!

So of course you’d backed him into a corner as you signed to him about something Gojo or Megumi had told you, he doesn’t know he can’t focus to well.

But he’s scared to sign anything, what if that curses you?

But you grab his hands firmly as you practically force him to sign out a little high, it’s choppy and looks awkward but the satisfied smile on your face is worth it and when he realizes sign produces no product he wastes no time in telling you everything he’s held in and you smile softly as you talk with him.

Pls let me know if you guys want to see anything else I love requests so much!!!

[starjxsung]

hai star, how are you?

ughh! i’m so so sorry your sister had to go through that :((( it really is so frustrating. i also haven’t been able to fully enjoy my vacation (or anticipating lolla peacefully either) bc even if i didn’t fully work things out, i was still stressing. i’m just frustrated bc nobody organized this well. i have a lil fault bc i could’ve reached out earlier but my professors or the program coordinators or whatever could’ve reached out to the supervisors and gathered all the info before just saying i was assigned to the center. they said there’d be other people but they didn’t tell me i was competing (they probs didn’t even know cuz they didn’t even communicate with the supervisors). idk, it’s a super red flag imo from all parts. i hope things do work out in the end. at least my professor said that if we can’t talk it out she’ll find me a new center (bc like i wanna leave so badly but i want my master’s bc if not all this suffering would have been for nothing🥲).

nonetheless, im so so so glad your sister’s internship came through but they handled it sooooo terribly. i feel for her so much. idk why people (especially if they take internships/practicums like wtf) don’t organize their shit!! but whatever, we ball. but it’s been so crazy lately. grad school has been too intense, where can i apply to place lip balm upon the lips of lee know? pls lmk

the move has been kinda stressy bc it’s been raining so badly here and we haven’t been able to clean the outside of the apartment 🥲 but we ballin too.

in terrible news, as we talk about lack of competence, tw: pet loss. as i was writing this message my bf said that the vet told him today that his senior family dog who was in surgery and had a leg amputation due to cancer had to be revived and was at the verge of death. which is so so so sad in itself. as a person that loves my animals more than anything, i would’ve taken the decision to put her down before the surgery but to each their own. but what really pisses me off is that the vet didn’t even do (or offer, in fact) to get her bloodwork done, knowing that she was high risk due to her age, condition and weight. the vet didn’t even do checked if she could survive before scheduling the surgery. and my bf’s parents were very naive and didn’t question it. and man, hate people that have lives in their hands and only care about money. this poor baby is still suffering there as of right now and it absolutely breaks my heart.

on a brighter note, my bf and i have a vinyl collection and i just ordered ateez’s the world ep.fin:will a few days ago. i’m really excited to get it. i’ve never seen a kpop vinyl irl and im really really interested in how it’ll look.

that is my life update of the day. i love you sm. thanks for giving me space to vent and im so sorry for always venting here </333 i hope you’re having a good time nonetheless, you genuinely deserve all that is good in life <3

(this is me btw)

-🐈‍⬛

THI WOOYOUNG PIC CRYINGGGGG why is he so cutie…….. 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

I’m still just so frustrated that you have to be dealing with this :( and even if you feel like you should have reached out earlier, I feel like it was still on THEM to communicate that to you. Like how are you just supposed to magically know what to do considering it’s your FIRST TIME doing this…. it doesn’t add up !!!! it’s almost like radio silence leads to miscommunication and misdirection 🤔 hmmmm

anyways. let me know how it all comes along and I’m rooting sooo hard for you in the meanwhile 🙂‍↕️🫶 you got this bby you’re SO smart and capable and I know you’ll get there !

Oh my god :( I am so so so sorry to hear about your bf’s senior family dog :( it is so VILE that they wouldn’t communicate the risks or offer to get bloodwork done first. Of COURSE all they would care about is rushing a pet into surgery as fast as possible for a big check :( how’s she doing now? Was she sent home? And does she seem to be having any adverse effects from being revived? I am so so so sorry again bby that is so unfortunate and my heart breaks at the idea of a dog going through that much suffering 💔💔 me & momo are sending all our love & prayers your way, I hope she’s able to recover okay and have some more years ahead of her still :(

ON that brighter note, let me know how the vinyl looks !! That is so exciting! I own RM’s Indigo and BTS Love Yourself on vinyl and I’d love to buy more, but my record player broke (it’s just a cheap ass crosley soooo… no surprise lmao) but when I get another one I definitely want to get a few more good ones! My sister’s always dreamed of having Key’s Bad Love on vinyl so I’ll probably snag that for her. And then some Ateez and probably Shinee 🤲 I feel like onew vinyl probably sounds so heavenly frfr

I love you so so much bby and I promise to send all the San & Yeosang pics when I get them this week !! Sending you all my love, hang in there 🫶💖 I love you so so much 🫶💓💖💘❤️🩷 (hello kitty Wooyoung and Hongjoong sooo real)

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

I feel like it is only time I make a stoner fic🤗hope you enjoy!!

*tw*: use of marijuana, stoner thoughts(im so sorry😵‍💫), if there's any more pls lmk and I'll add them!

It was no secret amongst the school that sapnap smoked weed. He talked about, he posted on social media about ut, he even got caught once smoking it in the back parking lot.

So when my mind was desperate for a chill out moment, he was the perfect person to help. I messaged him in search of a good time.

Hey, do you think I could buy from you?

What are you looking for?

Quarter ounce

Meet me here

2848 hasbul drive

He set the date for tomorrow night at 6pm. I requested enough that I could use tomorrow as well as this weekend so when j went to the location, and saw his car I climbed in with the money.

"Hey you got the cash?" I nodded as I hand him the money in exchange for a green bag.

"Quarter ounce?" He nodded as I opened the door and returned to my vehicle. Before I could even open the door he was gone and my phone rang.

Let me know how you like it

I left the message opened and didn't bother with a reply as I got in my car and headed home.

Upon arriving I see that all the lights are off which is good because it means everyone's asleep. I soundlessly slip inside my room and pull out the bag along with my pipe. I proceed to pack it and grab my lighter.

The first hit always hits the hardest so I have to take a minute to not let my coughs get too loud.

After about 3 or 4 hits, I sit back for a minute and just stare at my lights which are colored red.

I wonder what it would feel like to be floating right now. I bet it would feel nice. I have to make sure to thank sapnap for getting me this weed.

Wow, sapnap is such a great guy, his hair is amazing, he's so fucking cute but I can't tell him that because he'd never feel the same way. I wonder what he's doing right now, I wonder if he's thinking of me.

As I continue to think about him, I just feel myself getting happier. I want to talk to him right now and be with him, I want him to be with me. He would make this experience so much better. I should call him and tell him.

I dont need to call him, I can see him right now, he's in the room with me. That's concerning how'd he get in here, oh shut up logic. Come here lover boy. And if that doesn't work.

*I was gonna wait til I was high to put genuine stoner thoughts but I have none and haven't smoked in a couple of days.*

The next day at school I'm pissed and it's known to everyone except a certain someone who can't keep his hands away from me.

"Hey, how'd you like the za?" I shoot him a side eye to which he furrows his brow.

"I bet you would know wouldn't you," I say as I shove past him.

"Why are you mad at me? I helped you out?" I scoff.

"Helped me out? Are you shitting me?" I turn my voice lower as I look around at on lookers. I grab his arm and pull him to the side of the hallway.

"You fucking laced it." His eyes go wide.

"What the fuck do you mean?" He asked bewildered.

"When I smoked it and started feeling it, all I saw was you. So what the fuck did you put in it?" He looks like he's seen a ghost or he's listening to someone speak gibberish.

"What do you mean all you saw was me?" He asks

"You, your face, your body, as if you were in the room next to me. And there was this weird feeling in my chest, my heart was pounding." He takes a breath, and then starts to... laugh.

I stare at him as if he's disappeared before my eyes.

"What the hell is so funny to you?" He chuckles a little before talking some calming breaths.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm done, I'm done" He coughs before continuing. I stare at him expectantly.

"I hate to inform you but thats not laced weed. You have a crush on me."

"Are you fucking stupid? I don't have a crush on you, you fucking laced that shit." He smirks before taking one step closer, making our bodies practically chest to chest.

"Its ok, I like you too. When you asked to buy from me I wasn't surprised but I was a little disappointed that that was all you wanted from me." I stare at him, shocked.

"No, i- I don't have- wait what? You like me?" He smiles and puts a hand on my hip.

"Yeah, I've liked you for a while and I've tried to flirt with you before." I think back to the math class I have with him.

"Wow, I'm an idiot." I look at him and he says nothing.

"You're supposed to disagree with me." He laughs.

"Sure thing, whatever you say." He smiles and we walk to class together.

[loserrking]

Unsent Letters

CC!Wilbur soot x reader

Summary : Wilbur reads the letters (Name) made that they never sent

A/N : Holy souls those are alot of trigger warnings. @blooming-mushroom its done :] No pronouns used, I think?... This is my first time writing angst so pls don't be harsh when giving criticism :]

TW : Death | Implied Suicide | Reader is Implied to have schizophrenia | mentions of hearing voices | mentions of hallucinations | panic attacks(?) | Car crash | one curse word, I think? | (Pls inform me if there are any more I should add)

For the eighteenth time this week, he entered the once bright and joyful home of his partner, now it was dull and no longer full of color....it was empty- something that may seem fine in the eyes of an outsider, maybe perhaps the resident was out for a walk or maybe they were at the market, no- the reason is neither of those things because (Name) was gone...

Wilbur kept a nonchalant face as he drifted into a room... He has spent so much time crying that he felt numb.

Bloodshot eyes gazed around the room, he knew the area very well as he had visited it many times before... The brunette contemplated looking through your stuff. You hated it when people touched your stuff but a particular shoe box under the dresser caught his eye, was that there before? Doesn't matter... He really shouldn't touch it, you'd be extremely upset if he did... But it was labeled "To my dear Wilbur" so it was probably okay for him to look through it right....? Right.

The tall man took the box into his hands and sat beside the dresser on the floor with his back against the wall. He wasn't that surprised to see a bunch of letters in the box, he was slightly confused on why he never received any letters from you despite the stacked pile of parchment in the shoe box,but he just assumed you never sent them. he took the one on the top and started reading.

Dear Wilbur,

How was your day? Mine wasn't that great, some idiot at work spilled hot chocolate on my WHITE shirt and she didn't even apologize! And you know that poem I was working on? I accidentally deleted it :( I decided to take the bus to go home and I sat next to this mother who's child would not shut up, I kept stubbing my toe when I got home and then when I was gonna take a nice hot shower, I twisted the tap the wrong way and was hit with water colder than the winter. I went to play bedwars and lost 4 times so I decided to just go on our private world and build something but my mind was blank and anything I decided to build ended like shiz.... I had a horrible day but talking to you made it better <3

P.S I probably won't send this to you...

Yours truly,

The Amazing (Name)

Wilbur couldn't stop the grin forming on his face, and even for a moment, he forgot about your death... He sighed "I wish you were still here..." He couldn't recognize his own voice, probably from not using it much.

He read more,some were cute,some were funny, but as he kept on reading, he noticed that the letters were getting shorter and started getting more concerning sentences and phrases in them

Dear Wilbur,

Can we could go ice skating again sometime? I had a lot of fun, infact, I had so much fun with you that you made me forget the world was a horrible place...how did you do that?

Sincerely,

Your partner, (Name)

Dear Wilbur,

I really wanna send these letters to you, but they keep telling me not to, I'm scared of what'll happen if I disobey, the last time I did, something bad happened . Maybe one day you'll be able to read these :(

Kind Regards,

(Name)

Dear Wilbur,

The sun and clouds were frowning at me today, I'm getting tired of these hallucinations, they make me feel like I did something wrong! But anyways, I missed you, lets go to that cat cafe I told you about :)

Sincerely,

(Name)

Dear Wilbur,

I'm sorry I snapped at you today, I was in a bad mood and the voices were louder than usual. I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow

Best Regards,

(Name)

Wilbur's face contorted into one of confusion and concern. He knew you were mentally ill but he didn't recall you saying anything about hearing voices or having hallucinations. You never really told him much about your mental illness, maybe he should've been more persistent in asking what it was.

Did this tie into your death? Could this have played a part in it? It's been weeks after it happened and the police officers still couldn't decipher how you died and Wilbur was determined to find out, he frantically kept going through more of the letters, reading it in a fast pace. He skimmed through every one of them until he reached the last two letters.....

Dear Wilbur,

Sometimes I feel like I'm just bringing you down, and I'm sorry.... Maybe I should just disappear

Yours truly,

(Name)

Dear Wilbur,

I'm sorry, I can't keep our promise. It's all too much for me, goodbye Wil

Sincerely,

(Name)

The brunette knew what this meant, but he didn't wanna believe it.... Everything slowly started to make more sense, he should've been there for you, he should've noticed, how had he not noticed you were in pain? Was he that terrible of a boyfriend? God, it made him sick to the stomach just thinking about how you were silently screaming for help and yet he just stood there and did nothing.

His breathing pattern was uneven and soon his whimpers turned into sobs. He put a hand over his mouth, desperately trying to muffle his cries as tears streamed down his face. He wanted to scream, he wanted to yell and blame everyone for not trying to help you, he wanted to be able to hug you again, to be able to tell you a million times how much he loved you... But he can't, so he sat on the floor, trying to calm himself. He missed you, he missed you so much. It wasn't fair... The tears didn't stop, nor did the whimpers... If he had been there to comfort you, would you still be here? Would you still be alive if he or anyone tried to save you? Answer was... Yeah, probably....

Wilbur cried himself to sleep that night, he didn't even go home, he didn't have the strength to.... So he just laid there for a few hours until he eventually decided to drive home

The drive was quiet and the road was empty, at some point, Wilbur ended up zoning out, reminiscing about the times you shared together, the way you would smile and how you would stutter when he said a flirty comment, and how it just felt right being in your arms. He knew he was crying again, but this time he didn't bother to wipe it away.... He remembers how you would–

*BEEEP*

The startling sound rung through Wilbur's ears, it made the man turn the steering wheel wich caused his vehicle to swerve right into a tree

"shit..."

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Javier Escuella x GN!Reader in: (Home is) Wherever I’m With You

Reader Requests || Immy’s 200 Follower Event 🎊 🎉 🎊

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | event tag | rdr tag | m.lists | main blog ||

↠ Requested By: @team-baku-is-blasting-off-again ((for my 200 Follower Event)) ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: Angst-y H/C vibes that get NSFW at the end ((minors kindly fuck off, pls and thank)) ↠ CWs/TWs: Javier’s being over-protective like to a very uncool degree, as well as insecure in himself/his relationship with Reader. Likewise Reader has their own baggage/insecurities that don’t help matters at all. It all gets worked on and rectified by the story’s end, but feelings are indeed Hurt. ↠ Check below the cut for a more comprehensive list of tags. ↠ No betas—we die like damn near everyone you’ve ever dared to love in this damned series lol. ↠ Total WC: 14k~ ((my b, my uhh, my hand slipped??))

↠ Prompts:

“I’ll never be good enough.”

“Tell me to stop, tell me or I won’t be able to.” / “Then don’t.”

“No.”

“‘No’, what?”

“No, you’re not goin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, your own awakening anger transforming the words into sharp and dangerous things, “somethin’ must be gettin’ lost here because that didn’t sound like a question.”

The smoldering embers that had been in his gaze before are fully alight now with a flame that’s just barely checked as he regards you. “That’s because it wasn’t, mi amor…”

↠ In which what should be little more than a simple misunderstanding turns into something quite other. But no matter the storm, the pair of you are always willing to weather it so long as you can come home.

In which OP not-so-subtly simps for Arthur in the background lol. Let me love you, Mister Morgan, pls ��

Sorry for the wait, dear requester. Between non-fun adult type stuff and my need to reboot in between fills this took far longer to write than what either of us wanted lol. Doesn’t help that there’s angst involved (which always induces a certain amount of metal strain); add to that the fact that three out of the four fills I got for this event were angst-y H/C type deals and you get an even slower turn around.

But anyways!

This is long—way longer than anything I intended on writing for this event, but tbh this is a work I already had partially done. It’s a short story that’s been hanging around in my drafts since January of 2019 (yeah, I know -_-), but despite how long it’s been since last I touched it, reading the prompts put me in mind of it right away. Here’s to hoping it was worth the wait!

Translations ((As always, if any of the Spanish in this is wrong feel free to take it up with Google Translate lol)):

No gracias, Tilly, estoy bien—No thank you, Tilly, I’m fine

Mi amor—My love

Joder—Fuck

Dios, soy un jodido idiota—God, I’m a fucking idiot

Nunca seré lo suficientemente bueno—I’ll never be good enough

Mi corazon—My Sweetheart

Cariño—Sweetie

Siempre me tomas tan bien—You always take me so good

General Tags: Arthur Morgan + Reader (platonic, affectionate) | Arthur and Reader have a close, sibling-type relationship | Arthur Morgan being a Good Man™ as well as a good brother | Relationship strife | Public arguments (and the embarrassment that comes with that lol) | Various insecurities on both Reader and Javier’s part | Javier gets over-protective/insecure, arguments ensue | Mildly toxic behavior (unintentional, but still; see aforementioned tag) that is worked on/rectified | Also Reader’s own insecurities/baggage leads to an overreaction on their part as well | ((I hate writing all this angst, but it needed to happen for ✨~plot~✨ lol)) | Light Micah bashing lol (tho no shade intended towards his fans) | Hosea and Charles giving good advice

General Tags: Arthur Morgan + Reader (platonic, affectionate) | Arthur and Reader have a close, sibling-type relationship | Arthur Morgan being a Good Man™ as well as a good brother | Relationship strife | Public arguments (and the embarrassment that comes with that lol) | Various insecurities on both Reader and Javier’s part | Javier gets over-protective/insecure, arguments ensue | Mildly toxic behavior (unintentional, but still; see aforementioned tag) that is worked on/rectified | Also Reader’s own insecurities/baggage leads to an overreaction on their part as well | ((I hate writing all this angst, but it needed to happen for ✨~plot~✨ lol)) | Light Micah bashing lol (tho no shade intended towards his fans) | Hosea and Charles giving good advice

“So are you in or out?” Arthur asks as he reaches the end of his spiel.

The stagecoach robbery seems straight forward enough, but given the fact that everything the gang has put its collective hand to since the infamous Riverboat Incident back in Blackwater has gone tits up he knows you have a right to be wary. And you are, just a touch, though you hate to admit it. This string of bad luck has been hard on everyone and many bear the scars—both inside and out—to prove it, yourself included.

But you trust Arthur and you know that if this is a job he’s sniffed out himself that it’s probably solid; the fact that Charles and Lenny will also be tagging along means that the chances of success are just that much higher. The three of them usually make wise enough choices, last month’s misadventures in Valentine’s bar notwithstanding. You quickly agree before you can think better of it, and the smile that it pulls from the bearded man makes the potential risks more than worth it.

It had taken Arthur a bit to warm up to you when you’d first joined the gang, but once he did the pair of you fell into a close-knit, sibling-type relationship. A few people around camp—namely Sean, Bill, and damn near all the girls—had insisted that there had to be something more there in the time since, and it was only once you and Javier became an item that the rumors were (mostly) put to rest. The close nature of your relationship was actually the reason that it took Javi so long to ask you out. He’d been thoroughly convinced by the others that you and Arthur were sneaking around behind the gang’s collective back, and it wasn’t until you explained to him that firstly, you were adults who wouldn’t have to stoop to such a juvenile level, and secondly that you’d adored him from nearly the moment you’d met that he finally got past that foolishness.

Though it was annoying at the time you can’t say that you blame anyone for thinking you and your best friend had something going. Despite all his posturing to the contrary, Arthur Morgan is and always will be a far better man than what your lifestyle allows for, and a damned handsome one to boot, and well, you ain’t too bad yourself. You complement each other in a way that just seems ‘right’, apparently, but even if Javi hadn’t come into the picture your relationship’s always been destined to be a platonic one.

Arthur’s hurts are old things that run deep and jagged, tainting his perception of everything—himself especially. Both life and love have never looked on him kindly, and so he’s stopped expecting to receive the latter. Of course this has never stopped you from extending the sentiment to him after a fashion, but years passed and experiences gained have taught you that trying to force feelings when they just aren’t there will only ever end in heartbreak. Because of this you’ve never pushed for anything more and the pair of you are all the closer for it. Having him in your life has definitely made it fuller in so many ways, and it’s a blessing that you’re always striving to return, so whenever you get him to smiling like this you always feel as if you’re one step closer to your goal.

“Great,” he drawls, pushing off of his knees as he rises from the milk crate-turned-chair. “We ride out at the end of the hour so be ready. And make sure your gun’s actually loaded this time.”

His comment earns a few snickers from the others that share the space with you, though most of them quiet down when they feel the weight of your stare. The only one who doesn’t is Tilly, but then again the woman knows that you’d sooner kick a dog before ever doing anything more scathing to her than glaring.

“Wasn’t. My. Fault,” you grit out as you chuck an abandoned tobacco tin at his back.

A drunken prank compliments of Sean had led to a mildly embarrassing incident involving a bet and some bottle shooting, and nearly a year later you’ve still yet to live it down. Though he teases you about it now, Arthur had nearly taken the Irishman’s head off at the time; had the blond not challenged you, you could’ve easily found yourself unknowingly unarmed in a situation far more dire than a simple test of skill.

For his part the man just chuckles as he tosses a sarcastic “Sure” over his shoulder.

“Jerk,” you mutter, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“Want me to kick his ass?”

Had the voice not been so familiar you might’ve been startled by its sudden nearness, but the dulcet cadence is one that you know better than even your own. Unfortunately you’ve not been hearing it nearly as often as you’d like these past few days. Between duties to the camp and following leads in town, you and your man haven’t occupied the same space for any extended amount of time outside of sleeping together—done in the most literal sense, sadly—and even that’s been choppy as a you’d both been assigned guard shifts that made your overlap damn near nonexistent.

Javi’s just finished one such shift and it shows. His usually warm eyes are dull with fatigue and his posture’s a bit stiff from the strain that comes with making rounds of the area for the better part of the last several hours, but despite it all he’s just as handsome as ever and your pulse quickens as it always does whenever he’s near.

“Mmm, maybe later,” you say with half a laugh as he plops down on the log next to you. Depending on how this job goes down you just might take him up on that offer—if the law doesn’t beat you to it, that is.

For his part the man just snorts before pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple. He wraps his arms around you then and hoists you over into his lap, heedless of the scalding contents of your tin mug. A few moments of careful shuffling—and an unnecessary amount of cooing from Tilly and Sean—later sees you comfortable in your new seat. Javier had told you once that holding you like this feels like home, and sitting here with his head resting heavily against your shoulder and his hum of contentment warm against your ear, the statement rings especially true. Your free hand smooths over the pair of his where they rest against your thighs in a loose clasp, your fingers mapping out the ever increasing expanse of nicks and scars that mar the skin there; one scab feels especially fresh under your touch and you know that it’s compliments of yet another five-finger match, though who his opponent was you couldn’t say.

“You want something to eat, Javier?” Tilly asks from where she sits next to you—or rather next to your previous spot. Her thin, nimble fingers are making quick work of the trousers she’s mending with a level of skill that could put many-a seamstresses to shame.

“No gracias, Tilly, estoy bien.” (No thank you, Tilly, I’m fine.)

The young woman giggles at that. “Poor thing. You must really be tired because I didn’t understand half of what you just said. Sure sounded pretty though.”

“It always does,” you agree. Hearing Javi speak in his native language is truly a thing of beauty and, in your opinion, there isn’t much out there that can rival it.

He chuckles a bit at that, but makes no further comment. When you ask if he’d like a cup of coffee or even a sip of your own he turns this down too. “I’ll eat before I go to sleep,” he promises before you can get on him about looking after himself. “I just want to stay like this for a bit, mi amor. I’ve been missin’ you.”

His words leave your heart aching in the best of ways, but before you can reply a commanding bellow of “Miss Jones!” rings out across the camp. To Javier’s credit he doesn’t jump like the rest of you, but this is probably due him being far too tired to react in time. Everyone, from Dutch on down to Kieran, respects—and in some cases, fears—Ms. Grimshaw, and with good reason. The woman’s mouth can put any military official to shame, and her right hook is the stuff of legends. Anything with even the smallest amount of self-preservation knows not to get in her way when she’s scented her prey; the way the material of her skirt flutters out and away from her as if attempting to not further impeded her stride only serves to punctuate this point.

“Why ain’t you helpin’ out Mister Pearson?” she continues on as she comes to stand directly in front of the woman in question. “You’re not a goddamn workin’ girl, we don’t pay you to sit around on that ass of yours an’ look pretty.”

The blonde snorts loudly into her mug. “You don’t pay me at all.”

“Oh, love—no.” Sean’s plea is little more than a breath from where he sits beside her. Reckless though the young man may be, even he knows that there are some fights you just don’t pick.

“That girl’s really gotta learn when to keep her fool mouth shut,” Tilly comments under her breath.

“Is she drunk?” Javi asks. “‘Cause she sounds drunk. And it’s not even eight yet.”

You shrug as much as your position will allow. “I haven’t seen her drinkin’ anything other than coffee, but that don’t mean nothin’. She was goin’ at it pretty hard last night, though—she could still be drunk from yesterday.”

As the three of you converse the other two women continue to go back and forth, with volume and tempers both steadily rising all the while. Ms. Grimshaw might be a pill, but she’s a fair and caring woman in her own way. She never assigns anyone more than their due, and is always willing to work with anybody that’s suffering from an illness or injury severe enough to keep them from performing their duties properly. So long as a person’s able to provide for the camp in some major way—be that via money, labor, or acquiring much needed provisions—she generally leaves them alone.

Unfortunately for Karen she’s been bringing very little to the table as of late, well besides that lead on Valentine’s bank. Despite the fact that she’d pitched it well over a week ago she’s quick to bring it back up yet again for what little good it’ll do her. Even if Dutch does okay the job it’ll still take at least another couple of weeks of reconnaissance and planning before he’ll even think of making a move on the place which means that the blonde’s “–got one iron in the fire, but no damn legs to stand on”, as the older woman puts it.

“Well they’re not workin’!” Karen yells lamely, gesturing towards where you’re currently all hugged up with your boyfriend.

“That’s because I’m getting ready for a job!” you quickly call out. The last thing you want or need is one of Susan’s lectures on ‘pulling your own damn weight.’

“Sure don’t look it,” she shoots back in yet another blatant attempt to get the attention off of her. “Not unless you’re chargin’ your man by the hour these days.”

Her words leave Javier quaking with near silent laughter and he earns a sharp elbow to the ribs for his troubles. His apology comes in the form of a kiss placed just behind your ear, and though it’s a chaste thing you still feel a shudder run up the length of your spine. It’s been damn near a week since the two of you have had the combination of time, energy, and the minimum amount of needed privacy to do much more than some heavy petting, and given the state of your libidos, a week’s more akin to a month.

Of course he notices the way his kiss affects you, and of fucking course the jerk decides that now would be a good time to pepper more of them along the column of your neck. Knowing that telling him to stop will only lead to him doing something far less innocuous you decide that ignoring him to the best of your ability is the better course of action. If anyone else takes issue with his amorous display they keep it behind their teeth; whether this is because they’re too used to seeing shit like this by now, or out of fear of what the man’ll do to them if he thinks they’ve offended and-or embarrassed you, you cannot say—though if you’re being honest you know it’s probably mostly due to the latter.

“Fuck you Karen, I’m helping Arthur ‘n’ ‘nem rob that stagecoach outside of Valentine.” Your voice only catches once as you speak and you count that as a victory.

“You hear that, Miss Jones? They have an actual task to tend to, but you? You’re just sittin’ around–”

The rest of Ms. Grimshaw’s tirade is lost to you when Javi breathes a quiet “Qué?” into your ear.

“Oh, right, guess you wouldn’t ‘ve heard yet. Arthur’s got a lead on some rich fucks that’re passin’ through the area on their way to Golden Planes so me, him, Lenny, and Charles are gonna hit ‘em up. Should be a pretty decent sized haul from what I gathered. Apparently the feller’s some actor preparing for a role by ‘roughing it’ like us common folk, ‘cept not really since he’s got himself a nice little caravan-type-deal goin’ on complete with all the comforts that he’s so accustomed to.”

You roll your eyes hard at the absurdity of it all. You remember hearing a traveling preacher once say something about a fool and his money being easily parted, and while you’re pretty sure that armed robbery’s normally considered to be a sin in this case you just might be doing the Lord’s work. The thought leaves you snorting out half a laugh as you continue on.

“The man sounds like a asshole, and a dumb one at that. Hell, given why he’s on this fool’s quest we just might be helpin’ him out—ya know, lettin’ him experience the true grit of America’s untamed land and the hounding terror of the roguish gangs that rove its planes, or, yanno, some equally flowery bullshit. Anyway, it’s pretty poorly guarded, relatively speaking, and sure to be full of loot if Arthur’s contact is to be believed—and I’m sure she is. Barmaids hear everything and she’s sweet on Arthur besides. She’s been doin’ everything she can to help ‘em in hopes that he’ll take more of an interest in her, the poor girl. She’s so hung up on him she can hardly see straight. Kinda wish I could tell her better, but she probably wouldn’t believe me anyways.”

You aren’t expecting too much in the way of reply aside from a snort of amusement, or maybe even an offer to come along, really anything but the growled “No” that you get.

“Excuse me?”

You couldn’t have heard him right, you think, but then he says it again.

You lean off to the side so that you can get a better look at him. His expression is just as straight forward as the uttered word and twice as hard. You arch a brow as you look from the pursed set of his lips to the banked fire in his eyes. He’s clearly upset, though for the life of you, you cannot understand why.

“‘No’, what?”

“No, you’re not goin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, your own awakening anger transforming the words into sharp and dangerous things, “somethin’ must be gettin’ lost here because that didn’t sound like a question.”

The smoldering embers that had been in his gaze before are fully alight now with a flame that’s just barely checked as he regards you. “That’s because it wasn’t, mi amor. I don’t want you anywhere near something that risky.”

You scoff loudly at that. Who does he think he is? That you are? There have only ever been a few people in your life that could ever even begin to think of forbidding you to do anything, and they’ve all long since died, so needless to say Javier Escuella is not among their number. And that’s not even touching on his blatant disregard of the skills that you’ve earned through the literal shedding of your blood, sweat, and tears. You can handle yourself just fine, and had been doing so for literal years before you even knew he existed. You’re not some goddamn damsel from out of one of Mary-Beth’s books, and you’re definitely not looking for someone to save you. When you tell him as much he just sighs.

“I never said you were. I know you can take care of yourself.”

“Well you’re sure as shit not actin’ like it,” you give back. He sighs again before muttering something under his breath in Spanish and for some reason that makes you even angrier. “If you’ve got somethin’ to say, Javier, then say it. And at a volume that I can actually hear, if you goddamn please.”

“I said, you’re acting like a child,” he bites off.

“I’m acting like a child? Me? Are you fuckin’ serious right now? You’re the one that started all of this!”

“I didn’t start anythi–”

“Oh so the whole ‘you’re not going’ bit—that wasn’t you startin’ it?” The sound you let out is a bitter shadow of a laugh. “I lost my father a long time ago, Escuella, and I’m not lookin’ to replace him, least of all with my goddamn boyfriend.”

He pinches his eyes shut in frustration. “I’m not trying to replace anybody! Fuckin’– I just want you to be safe.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I never said that you couldn’t.”

“Then what are you sayin’?” you demand with a toss of your hand. “‘Cause from where I’m sittin’ it sounds a whole damn lot like you think I’m too fuckin’ incompetent to get the job done.”

When the only reply you get is a hard, agitated breath you just nod your head. “And there it is. Hm. Well, regardless of your estimation of my skills, Mister Escuella, I’m more than capable of handlin’ a simple robbery. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me, I’ve a few things that need doin’ before I go and I don’t want Arthur and the rest waitin’ on my account.”

You give him a look when the arm that bars you in doesn’t immediately fall away. Javier meets your stare then and the tumultuous mix of emotions that you find in those warm brown irises leaves your indignation faltering, but before you can even begin to make an attempt at deciphering any of it he’s dropping both his eyes and his arms.

No further words are exchanged, though the small part of you that’s not currently pissed the fuck off feels as if you should say something. Leaving things like this is hardly wise, especially since there is a possibility—relatively slim though it is—that you may not come back, but you just can’t bring yourself to open your mouth. Javier has stepped squarely on a rather sensitive nerve, and that he can’t see that, that he won’t make the first move to apologize…

It hurts more than you care to admit, even to yourself.

You’re both adults and should be able to talk about this like the reasonable people you usually are, but you can’t be the bigger person right now. For a long time people had put you down and made you feel as if you and your abilities had no real worth and you believed them. It had taken years for you to realize that they were wrong, that you’ve always had value beyond anything they—and even you yourself—could ever know. Your self-confidence is a thing hard earned and you’ll die before you ever allow anyone to strip you of it again. Having one of the people closest to you threatening it, unintentional though it may have been, hits you hard and you just can’t.

Don’t. Won’t.

As you go you feel more than just Javier’s eyes on you. It seems as if you gave the gang a show to go with their morning meal and the thought leaves your face uncomfortably warm. Where’s Abbi and John when you need ‘em? you think as you make your way back to your tent. When compared to the screaming matches that the pair of them frequently engage in what you and your man had done can hardly even be called a proper fight.

Abandoning the mug that you hadn’t even realized you were still carrying, you grab everything you’ll need from the little box that sits tucked away in the shared space of your makeshift shelter; afterwards you head over to the medicine wagon and collect a few items, just in case worst comes to worst. Now fully kitted out, the only thing left to do is join Arthur and the rest over by the horses—which means cutting through the middle of the camp. Eyes forward, shoulders squared, and face set in a way that says ‘stay the fuck away’ you head towards your destination. Thankfully the pointedly unwelcoming combination works as intended and the short trip is blessedly uneventful.

Arthur and Charles are both in the process of loading up their horses, but Lenny is nowhere to be found. You breathe out a sigh of relief at that as it would’ve been beyond mortifying if your argument had caused you to be the last one to arrive.

“Gents,” you greet as you approach your horse. The cheer that you infuse the word with sounds fake, even to your own ears, but if the men pick up on this they don’t mention it.

You’re sure that your spat with Javier hadn’t been loud enough to reach them all the way over here, but gossip in the camp spreads faster and easier than legs in a cathouse so they’ve probably gotten an embellished account by now. Thankfully the pair of them are some of the most kindhearted men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and they won’t pry or shame you for your actions regardless of what they’ve been told.

True to form, they greet you in kind before asking if you’ve seen the youngest of your little party, and you shake your head. “Thought he’d be over here by now,” you say with a shrug.

“I swear to god if that boah’s still sleepin’,” Arthur mutters as he turns his eyes back towards the camp proper. Charles is already one step ahead of him, however. Sitting atop Taima gives him a better vantage and he easily spots the teen over by Strauss’s wagon. The older man doesn’t even bother with looking himself, instead choosing to scream, “Lenny! Get the molasses outta yer ass, boah!” across the expanse.

Lenny picks up the pace at the beckoning. Long legs carry him across the distance at a decent clip and within a minute he’s sliding up next to you. He gives Arthur a sheepish grin as he shrugs helplessly. “I uhh, I had a hole in my pants, man; had to get that seen to first.”

Remembering the trousers that you’d seen Tilly with before you look him over and—yup. Same ones. The sight leaves you huffing in amusement, but the feeling is quickly shadowed by everything that came afterwards.

We were okay, fine ‘n’ fuckin’ dandy—how the hell did that change so fast? You quickly shake the melancholy away. Now’s not the time or place to deal with your personal shit; distracted minds only ever lead to people getting hurt or worse.

Unaware of you inner turmoil, the men share a laugh before moving on to talking about the plan.

“Alright,” Arthur starts, “Charles is gonna ride on ahead and look for a good ambush spot outside of town, and I want one of you to go with ‘em.”

“I’ll go,” Lenny offers, as eager to help as ever.

His older flashes him a smile as he claps him on the shoulder. “Good man. That means me and you,” he nods his head in your direction, “are heading into town. Ruth says that they’re not supposed to be leaving out until sometime after ten, but I’d rather keep eyes on them all the same.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a shrug.

“I already have a couple of places in mind,” Charles says as he gives his horse a few loving pats to the neck, “so it shouldn’t take too long. Want us to meet you back in Valentine after?”

Arthur nods. “It’s better if we’re not all seen in one place, so you two should head on over to Keane’s. I’ll linger around Smithfield’s, and ____ can take the hotel. Sound good?” When he gets answers in the affirmative he gives a gruff hum of approval. “Good. Alright folks, this should be an easy one, and if everything goes accordin’ to plan we’ll be done well before noon.”

“Aw come on Arthur, don’t say that,” Lenny moans as he swings himself up into Maggie’s saddle. “You’ll jinx us for sure.”

“Never took you for the superstitious type,” Charles comments.

“Never was, not before all this. I’m not usually one for all that ‘curses and bad juju’ stuff, but with everything that’s been goin’ on lately–”

The rest of their conversation is lost to you under the sound of their steeds’ combined hoof-falls. You and Arthur both mount up yourselves then before following after them at a more leisurely pace. A comfortable silence lingers as you steadily make your way towards Valentine and not for the first time you find yourself being distinctly grateful that Arthur is who he is. He’s not one to meddle, but he’s always there to offer an ear or a shoulder to cry on when you need it.

And he thinks he isn’t a good man. The musing leaves your lips twisting wryly.

“It’s nice to see Charles opening up more,” you comment after several long moments have passed. And it really is. You liked the man from the moment you met him, and more often than not you found yourself seeking out his quiet presence when things around camp got too rowdy. Charles has mastered the fine art of being and you can only hope that one day you’re as at peace with yourself as he so often appears to be.

Arthur hums his agreement. “Yeah. He’s a good one, that Charles—one of the best Dutch has brought into the fold in a long while.”

Unlike Micah, the unspoken subtext reads. You, like most people in the camp (and probably the world at large) can’t stand the rat bastard, but you also don’t feel like talking about him either. That man exhausts you to no end, and you’re fairly certain that just saying his name aloud has the potential to shave several hours off of your lifespan. Thankfully Arthur doesn’t seem too keen on bitching about him at the moment—odd given that it’s one of his favorite pastimes, but ‘gift horses’ and all that.

“You should’ve seen what he did to Uncle last night, nearly drove the old lush crazy,” he tells you around a laugh before laying out the scene.

Apparently the man had tried to strike up a conversation with his younger over supper only to have every starter shot down with one word answers. By the end of it all Uncle had walked away red faced, frustrated, and in dire need of something stronger than the beer he’d been drinking.

“And-and Charles, he just–” a hard spurt of laughter, “he just looks over at me and the rest of the boahs and he’s got the sliest little smirk on his face and we just lost it. He knew what he was doin’.” Though the retelling leaves much to be desired, the mirth in your brother’s voice is contagious and you find yourself laughing as well.

“That is funny. Wish I could’ve seen it for myself.”

“Mmm. Guard duty’s a bitch, huh?”

“Who you tellin’? I know why we have to do it, but dammit if it doesn’t get up my ass. At least I got one of the better shifts this time around. I was barely able to stay awake long enough to finish my stew, but at least I got a full night’s rest. Plus I didn’t have to worry about waking up Javi, so…” His name is out of your mouth before you realize it and just like that your mood loses what little levity it had managed to gain.

The man at your side sighs, though the sound isn’t one born of impatience or long-suffering; he’s always hated to see anyone within the gang at odds with one another, but especially people that are as close to him as you and Javier.

He flicks up the brim of his hat so that his eyes are fully visible when he looks over at you. “If you wanna talk about it…”

“I… I do,” you admit with a sigh of your own, “but I also don’t, not right now at least. Work first, emotional bullshit second—yeah?”

“If you’d like,” he drawls back.

You smile at him then, small and grateful, before reaching over the gap and giving his arm a squeeze. “Thanks.”

No more words are exchanged after that, none are needed. He gets it, gets you—so how is it that the man whose affections are supposed stretch far beyond that of a brother’s doesn’t?

They aren’t coming back.

Clink. Thud.

Not that they should.

Clink. Thud.

They can do better than you. Already have, really.

Clink. Thud.

He is perfect for them, has known ‘em longer, understands them in a way that you probably never will. They have history; no matter how hard you try, there’s no competing with that.

Clink. Thud.

They’re perfect together—they should be together.

Clink. Thud.

And what else did you expect? You already had your shot at love, how could you possibly think that you’d get another?

Clink. Thud.

And on the off chance that you did—have—how do you know it won’t all be snatched away from you again?

Clink. Thud. THWACK!

Javier embeds the axe into the stump with enough force to send large splinters of wood flying out from around the heavy metal head. An especially wayward piece nicks him just under his left eye, but he’s too numb—both inside and out—to notice the sting of it. His thoughts have been relentlessly following the same misery-fueled loop of self-degradation since he’d watched his amor ride out of the camp this morning.

Things had gotten awkward fast around the firepit, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. It was as if his body and mind both ceased all higher functions once he let you out of his arms, leaving him with only the capacity to hollowly stare after you as you went about readying yourself to go. Your movements were hard and jerky as you checked over your weapons and filled your pouches with tonics and salves, as clear a sign of your anger—your rage—as you were willing to show. And when you had walked past him to get to the horses… It was like he was air to you, no less than that. Some useless thing that was undeserving of even a scrap of your time or attention. Your expression was hard and your eyes blank as you passed him by without so much as even a parting glare and that’s when he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had fucked up bad.

His amor is done. Their relationship is done. And it’s all his fault.

“Joder!” He hisses out the curse as he sends one of the newly quartered logs flying with a hard kick. It’s mildly satisfying, seeing the chunk of wood sail through the air, so he kicks another one. And another, and another. It’s only when the last one lands some several feet away that he pulls the axe from its resting place to start in on the pile of lumber once more.

“Dios, soy un jodido idiota,” he all but growls as the tool’s metal head embeds itself in the wood’s pale center. “Nunca seré lo suficientemente bueno–” (God, I’m a fucking idiot. / I’ll never be good enough.)

“I’ll admit my Spanish isn’t the best, but I know the sound of a man beratin’ himself when I hear it.”

Of course Hosea would be the one to come find him. He’s the only one with enough balls to approach him when he’s this pissed and welding an axe, but also enough heart to actually care—the bowl of stew and bottle of beer he holds are both further testament to the latter.

“If I said that I was fine, would you believe me and go away?” the younger man asks between chops.

Hosea chuckles a bit. “Given that you were mumblin’ to yourself somethin’ fierce just a few seconds ago—no. Look, if you don’t want to talk about it I’m not gonna make you,” he assures him. “But what I am gonna ask you to do is to sit down for a bit.”

“Why?”

“Because workin’ yourself half to death won’t help anything.”

“What if I don’t care?”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Well then I do, and I can guarantee you it’s more than enough to carry the both of us ‘til you come back to your senses.”

He cuts his eyes over to the conman. “My ‘senses’ rode out of here this morning  without so much as a backwards glance.”

“So I saw,” Hosea starts as he moves to sit on the repurposed barrel. “Does this mean that you want to talk about it then?”

Javier groans loudly as he embeds the axe into the stump once again. “No. Dios mío, Hosea, please—just drop it.”

“Fine,” the man concedes with a shrug. “I’ll drop the subject, you’ll drop that axe, and we’ll both go about the rest of our day.”

“Is that an order?”

“Don’t get your hackles up, Mister Escuella—givin’ orders is more of Dutch’s thing than mine. I’d much rather lay out your options and hope that you’ll make the best choice.”

“Yes, because clearly I’ve been makin’ quality decisions all day.”

Eyes nearly as dark as his own pin him with a pointed look. “While your sarcasm isn’t appreciated, it is telling. There’s no point in cryin’ over spilled milk, my boy—all you can do is clean up the mess and try to move on. Stewin’ over what you should’ve done or said isn’t helpin’ anything. Calm yourself, get some food in your belly, sleep if you can; you’ll need a clear head if you want to fix things between the two of you.”

“How can you sound so sure?”

“Well I was married for nearly fifteen years,” Hosea reminds him. The smile that accompanies his words is as bittersweet as it always is whenever the topic is broached, though as he looks the younger man over it softens. He nods for Javier to take the seat next to him and after a few seconds of hesitation he does; when offered the bowl and bottle he accepts them without further prodding. The patriarch waits until he’s got a few good spoonfuls in him before speaking again.

“You know, the pair of your remind me a lot of me and my Bessie. We had our fair share of rough patches, especially when I couldn’t settle into the humdrum of domestic bliss she seemed so intent on—but that’s a story for another time,” he says with a wave of his hand. “The point I’m tryin’ to make is this: if you both want to make this work, you will.

“Some people think that being in love means never havin’ to say you’re sorry, but that’s the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard. Love is all about sayin’ you’re sorry and forgivin’ in turn. It’s reachin’ consensuses and occasionally conceding, but never compromisin’. And above all else it’s all about how much work you’re willin’ to put in. The sentiment alone won’t keep you afloat—you have to choose to stay together.”

Javier has to admit that that all makes sense—even if it takes him several long, thoughtful moments to do so—but–

“What if they don’t want to? What if they don’t come back?”

“Oh they’ll definitely come back.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well it’s actually quite simple, Mister Escuella,” Hosea starts with a chuckle, “it’s because their home is here.”

The sound he makes in reply is equal parts rude and dismissive. “This place isn’t home to any of us, Hosea.”

“Not here, as in the ground we’re standing on, dear boy—their home is you.”

His first instinct is to argue, but there’s so much confidence in the old man’s voice that he finds himself faltering. If someone who’s on the outside looking in can believe it so emphatically, why can’t he? His amor completes him in so many ways, and they’ve told him countless times now that he does the same for them… Surely they wouldn’t throw all of that away—their love away—over one stupid little fight?

They wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Not so long as he has some say in it.

If, once all is said and done, they still wants to part ways he’ll let them go, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let what they have die without a fight.

“Ahh, now there’s the right kind of fire!” Hosea stops just short of clapping him on the shoulder, having long since learned that his younger isn’t overly fond of undue contact. Instead he gives him a broad smile before using his knees as a push off point to rise to his feet. “I know it all feels like a bit much, bein’ your first major spat and all, but when you sit down and think on it rationally, nine times outta ten you’ll find that it’s not such a big thing.”

Javier’s reply comes in the form of a noncommittal huff followed by a long pull from the dark tinted bottle. His continued sullenness only serves to make the old man smile.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, Mister Escuella, but I’ll get there yet. In the meantime please try and get some sleep. None of us want to see you passin’ out from exhaustion, and that’s to say nothin’ of the tongue lashin’ you’ll get from Susan if she thinks you’re making a burden of yourself.”

“With all the wood I just chopped, both she and Pearson should stay off my case for a while yet.”

“True. Which is why you shouldn’t bother with any further tasks. Take a rest–”

“I’d rather take a bath,” he admits. Thanks to the tight schedule he’s been forced to keep it’s been damn near a day and a half since he’s had an opportunity to do more than a cursory rubdown and he’s long since started to feel grimy.

Hosea hunches up a shoulder. “Fine then. Bath first, sleep after, yeah?”

“…Yeah.”

The older man gives him a smile and a nod before leaving him to finish the rest of his meal in peace. Now that his mind isn’t so weighed down with sorrow he’s able to enjoy the freshness of the rabbit meat and the fine blend of herbs that accompany it—compliments of Charles’ snares and one of Mary-Beth’s ‘acquisition jobs’ in town respectively. Within a few minutes the bowl is empty and the bottle soon follows suit. Not looking to make more work for the ladies than necessary, he takes both over to the washing station and cleans up his mess before gathering up what he needs and heading down to the river.

The bath does wonders for his mood, with every swipe of the rough cloth over his skin rubbing away a portion of his self-loathing and doubts, and by the time he’s dressed in a fresh set of clothes he has mostly come back to himself. Taking advantage of the noonday sun he doesn’t gather his hair up as he usually does but instead leaves it to hang loose. Though the feeling of the heavy, damp locks against his neck is unpleasant he knows it’ll be dry soon enough. As he plops down onto his makeshift bed, his lover’s scent wafts up to greet him; it leaves his heart twisting with longing and just a little bit of dread, though he’s quick to push the latter away.

Soon, he promises himself. Soon they’ll come back to this place—back to his arms, back to their home—and when they do the pair of them will talk this thing out and reach an understanding, he’s sure of it.

“Now I do want to thank you all so very kindly for your cooperation,” Arthur starts as he swings himself up into his saddle and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

It seems as if spending the better part of his life under Dutch’s tutelage has endowed him with the same grandiose flair that plagues your illustrious leader, and you can only thank the Almighty that he doesn’t indulge in it overmuch.

“Now remember: going back towards Valentine will get you nowhere—well, nowhere you’ll want to be, anyway. The only place there’s a future for you is out there, across the Dakota at Wallace Station on the train that waits for you. Right?”

A dozen-plus voices, shrill with fear and just a touch frantic, rise up in agreement; the owners of said voices are tied to the wheels of the ransacked wagons that sit before your little group of outlaws. Though they’re all more or less in the state in which you’d found them, they’re a bunch of gentle folk; all it took to cow them were a few well-placed shots and some rather colorful language.

Arthur and Lenny had walked them through tying themselves up while you and Charles had made sure that there weren’t any enterprising guards among them lying in wait. In the end it hadn’t taken you more than a solid twenty minutes to get them squared away and their valuables stashed on your respective horses. All the while the captives behaved as they were expected to. Crying, cursing, praying—all typical responses to being held at gunpoint and relieved of all your worldly possessions–

“Thank you for this, sir! I won’t soon forget the lesson you and your compatriots taught me here today!”

–and then there’s Slias Spatchcock.

Apparently the man’s some type of up-and-coming actor known for his portrayal of outlaws like yourselves. You can only shudder to think what that says about the state of the industry as a whole because this jackass can barely tell the business end of a pistol from his goddamn elbow.

Arthur had entertained a few of his questions—mostly just as a way to get the idiot to shut up—and in exchange the man had promised to model his next performance after the “–rough ‘n’ tumble gunslinger, whose eyes are as green as jade, but as hard as flint.” You’re pretty sure that nobody besides you had noticed the slight flush that had crept up the older man’s neck at the words, but you’re enough, really. You’d never tease him about it, he gets enough shit from everyone about everything as is, but you like to think of it as further proof of his allure.

Everywhere he goes just about every one of every gender finds their eyes trailing after Mister Morgan for one reason or another, though he’s loathed to notice this, let alone admit it. Hell, even now, with several of the women (as well as Silas) looking up at him with a curious combination of lust, fear, and anger he still doesn’t see it.

“See that you don’t, Mister Spatchcock,” the man of the hour replies with a tip of his hat.

“Here.” Charles’ voice is much louder than usual in deference to the distance between him and the captives; the dull thud of a knife embedding itself into the ground just a few scant feet away from one of the men’s boots punctuates the extremely short sentence. “Remember—if you try to give chase we will shoot to kill.”

It’s with this last grim reminder that the four of you set off back towards Valentine. Once you’re a good ways away you find a nice secluded spot to divvy up the loot. Surprisingly there isn’t too much of note in the haul; a decent amount of jewelry, some actual cash, and a few books whose value is found in their ability to entertain. Of course the camp gets its due right off the top, but you’re all still left with nearly sixty dollars and a few trinkets apiece. With that last bit of business taken care of you all go your separate ways.

Charles turns back the way you came, citing a need to make sure your victims don’t get any cute ideas. Lenny’s heading back to the camp to drop off the offering as well as to catch some sleep before his shift on guard duty, and you can only assume that Arthur will be joining him; this leaves the three of you to fall into step as you headed back towards civilization.

The men chat as you go—mostly about the heist itself, with Arthur giving his younger a few pointers—and you’re content enough to let them talk around you. Though the mildly euphoric feeling of a job well done rests warm in your chest, you can’t quite shake the melancholy that still shrouds you. You rather enjoy this particular aspect of your life, being a Robin Hood for a new generation, and the only thing that makes it better is having the people you love best at your side as you partake in it. You’ve always loved pulling off jobs with Javi, and you had thought he felt the same, but the way he acted this morning…

You sigh heavily as you mentally push the thought, and the anger that follows it, away; you’re not going to let him ruin the rest of this day for you. In fact, you’re going to treat yourself. You’ve already rented a room at Saints as part of your cover, and you don’t see any reason why you should let it go to waste. Yes, a nice hot bath will do you a world of good, as will a decent meal–

And the camp’s doing pretty well for itself. Between all of us workin’ and Charles and Arthur’s huntin’ skills we aren’t exactly wantin’ for too much. I could get myself something nice, maybe look into getting a new part for my pistol…

Lenny’s farewell snaps you back into the present and you return it with a nod of your head, as well as a warning for him to look after himself. The young man huffs a bit at your words, but doesn’t brush them off completely—can’t, not with the manner of luck you’ve all had lately. After one last tip of his hat he’s spurring Maggie on as they speed back towards the Overlook.

“You’re not going with him?” you ask your brother. He’s been running himself especially ragged these past couple of weeks and you’d thought that he would jump at the chance to sleep in his own bed.

“Much rather sleep in an actual bed,” he replies when you say as much. “Besides there’re a few things I want to do in town before we inevitably get run out of it.”

You laugh a bit. “Fair enough. Would you… care for some company?”

Despite your bond the question is posed tentatively. Arthur doesn’t take nearly enough time for himself and you feel no small amount of self-loathing for impeding on his rare allowance, but you’re not exactly thrilled with the idea of being left alone with your thoughts right now. Thankfully the “Sure” you get is quick and genuine.

“Feels like forever since we’ve done anything, just you ‘n’ me. But first I’d like to take a bath, if you don’t mind. I’ve got to smell like a goat’s ass by now and can’t look much better.”

“You’re not alone there. Meet you at Smithfield’s in a couple of hours then?”

He tosses you a wink that leaves you scoffing. “It’s a date.”

Freshly scrubbed and donned in the clean clothes you always leave stored on your horse’s pack, you meet a rather dapper Arthur in Smithfield’s Saloon at a quarter past three. Apparently he hadn’t spent quite as long soaking his cares away as you did; his hair and beard both have been seen to, with the former being a good several inches shorter and well tapered on the sides, and the latter not nearly so shaggy as last you seen him. You let out an appreciative whistle when you slide into the chair across from him at the table for two.

“Lookin’ sharp, Mister Morgan.”

“I–” He stops short when he sees the look on your face. You’d already told him to lay off that self-depreciating bull, and while you’re sure he still gets up to it when you’re not around, when you are he knows it’s a no-go. “Thanks,” he starts again. “You’re lookin’ mighty nice yourself.”

There’s nothing special about the plain ensemble you’ve thrown on, but you don’t feel the need to contradict the statement. “Well thank ya kindly, sir. Now what’s a fine specimen such as myself gotta do to get a drink ‘round these parts?”

Arthur rolls his eyes even as he chuckles before heading over to the bar. A few minutes later he returns with two glasses and a bottle of mid-shelf whiskey. “I took the liberty of putting in our lunch order,” he tells you as he pours you both a measure. “They said it should be out shortly.”

You hum your thanks as you accept your glass. You have no idea what’s on the menu today, nor does it rightly matter; the place serves what it serves and either you eat it or you don’t. Luckily their house chef is a good cook, much better than Pearson these days—though to be fair to the man, up until very recently he didn’t exactly have the best environment or ingredients to work with.

The pair of you chat about everything and nothing, mostly just catching one another up on what you’ve been getting into since settling in at the Overlook. By the time the barmaid is bringing out your meal you’ve fallen into reminiscing about the members of your cobbled family that you’ve lost. You share a toast in their honor before digging in.

“So, what do you want to do with the rest of the day?” Arthur asks once your plates have been taken away.

You shrug. “I was thinking about investing in a new pair of boots since these have certainly seen better days, maybe a part or two for my pistol too. If there’s anything left after that I’ll pick up a few things for the ladies just ‘cause.”

He hums in that way he does as he leans more fully back in his chair, a truly contented smile playing at his lips. “Lookin’ to treat yourself then?”

“You sayin’ I don’t deserve it?”

“Not at all. Well if that’s what you wanna get into, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“I never intended to monopolize your time, Arthur. I’m sure the absolute last thing you wanna do is putter around from shop to shop with me.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he assures you as he rises from his seat. You give him a skeptical look as he nods expectantly towards the door, looking for any sign that he’s being overly selfless again, but for a wonder he doesn’t seem to be putting on airs.

“Well far be it from me to turn down such a strapping escort.” Ignoring his scoffing laugh you finally rise as well and head out into the town proper.

Javier awakes to the smell of coffee, much to his confusion.

It’s far too late in the day for anyone to be brewing the stuff, and the sleeping area is purposefully situated far away from the ‘kitchen’ besides. It isn’t until sleep-bleary eyes land on the little crate-slash-bedside table that he finds the culprit: the mug that you had been nursing this morning.

His brain stalls hard as memories of the harsh words and heated glares you’d exchanged come flooding back.

“God, I’m such a jackass,” he mutters under his breath as he pinches at the space between his brows.

Had he been less sleep deprived then maybe things wouldn’t have veered off so badly. He hadn’t meant to insult you or try to assert some control over you that he most certainly knew he didn’t have—he just wanted to keep you safe. That’s not so unreasonable, is it? He doesn’t think so, not with the way things have been going since the Massacre. In the time since the pair of you haven’t been apart too often, his brief trip into Valentine aside. And even then he hadn’t been too keen on the idea of leaving you alone, even if you were within the relative safety of the camp.

Logically he knows that you cannot be tucked under each other’s arms twenty-four seven—your responsibilities, as well as your sanity, won’t allow for that, but… Javier Escuella has always been a man who often times puts heart before head. It’s a habit that has gotten him into more than a few scrapes, but what went down between the pair of you may be his biggest blunder to date. Still, he has to believe that he can fix things. Even the darkest of nights have a dawn, he knows—I just need to find my sunlight.

To that end he quickly scrambles to get dressed before checking the time. It’s just a little past three in the afternoon. He has no idea when you all were set to hit up that caravan, but with any luck you’re already back and cooled down enough to tolerate his presence again.

People extend him more grace than what he probably deserves when he exits his tent, treating him as they normally would despite him showing his ass earlier. Unfortunately nobody has seen hide or hair of you, which is strange given the fact that half of the crew you set out with returned over an hour ago.

Charles and Lenny had rode in separately, with the former having broken away from the group early on. He had assumed that the others were heading back to camp, but clearly that wasn’t the case. What’s more the only one that would more than likely know where you are is fast asleep and Javier doesn’t want to wake him. That would be a dick move and a display of desperation that—well, he’s not exactly above, but not quite at the point of just yet.

“If they aren’t here they’re more than likely still in Valentine,” Charles tells him. “That would make the most sense as ____ rented a room there.”

The outlaw can feel his face harden with this new bit of information. While he knows there’s nothing more to it—to you and the man that is your brother in everything but blood—that treacherous little part of his brain that never fails to remind him just how inadequate he is when compared to the likes of Arthur Morgan rears its cruel head. Though he stays quiet it’s very obvious to the other man exactly what roads his mind have traveled down.

Charles gives him a disapproving look as he shakes his head. “Don’t do that, Javier. It’s a disservice to yourself as well as the both of them. Neither of them would ever betray your trust like that, and ____ would certainly never disrespect themselves or your relationship in such a way. I don’t know what you’ve gone through to make you think otherwise, but you’d be better off putting those issues to rest sooner rather than later.”

Though the unsolicited advice grates, Javier hears the wisdom in it. Old betrayals and past hurts have left their mark in mind and heart both, but if wants to have any hope of recovering and moving on—if he’s ever to have a real and solid future with you—then he has to move past it all.

From character to aptitude, never once in all the time that he’s known you have you ever given him any reason to doubt you in any capacity. You’ve only ever been good to him; radiating a kindness that warmed him from the inside out to melt away the ice around his heart so that love could blossom once more. How could something as inane as insecurities, ones that he’d convinced himself that he’d come to terms with long ago, come between that? Why was there ever even any room within him for that to take root and fester in the first place?

He knows the answer to this of course, and it’s a simple thing: because he let it. Had he at least tried to deal with his inner demons sooner instead of just sweeping them under the rug then maybe the pair of you wouldn’t be in this mess.

You really are a jackass, his brain silently reminds him yet again, as if it had no parts in this disaster once so ever.

Aloud, he breathes deeply before saying—admitting—“You’re right. I, uh… Thanks, Charles.”

The man nods before turning his attention back to the knife he’d been sharpening. Taking the sign of dismissal for what it is Javier heads over to the stables. He knows that fixing things won’t be so easy as uttering a simple two word apology, but as he preps Boaz for travel he’s positive that it’s definitely the perfect place to start.

“So, about that ‘emotional bullshit’…?”

You can’t help but to snort a laugh at that. “As tactful as ever.”

Arthur shrugs, chuckling a bit himself. “Never claimed to be anything other than what I am, you know that.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a shrug. “As for the ‘bullshit’, I… I don’t even know what went wrong, honestly.”

As you proceed to lay out the whole of the situation to him, Arthur mostly keeps quiet aside from the occasional hum of acknowledgement. Once you’ve gotten it all out he goes quiet for a long moment as he considers all that has been said. When he finally does speak again he isn’t saying anything that you don’t already know, but hearing it from an outside source gives it more weight than what your thoughts alone could provide. He speaks of context and meaning, inferences and biases, and how at the end of the day you shouldn’t allow what’s little more than a simple misunderstanding to impede on what it is that you and Javier share–

“–but that’s just my thoughts on the matter. I’m nobody’s Romeo, as you well know–”

“That’s probably for the best, given the way that particular story ended.”

“Smartass. You know what I mean. But in all seriousness, I think things’ll work out in the end so long as you’re willin’ to let ‘em…” He lets the sentence trail off with a resolute nod as he takes a cigarette from an intricately engraved tin—an actual present from an admiring actor, overly-eager to please. He offers you one, shrugging again when you decline, before lighting up.

“You make it all sound so easy,” you reply as you fiddle with your bracelet. The simple gold number’s a gift from Javier for your birthday just passed, one made all the more special by the fact that he had gotten himself one to match.

“I know it’s probably not the best time to be thinking about rings and the like, but…” His words had left you both blushing at the implications as he secured the thing around your wrist with uncharacteristically shaky hands. “I still like the idea of letting the world know you’re mine, just as much as I’m yours, even in this small way…”

“That’s because it is easy,” Arthur assures you, snapping you out of the brief reverie. “Just because I’ve got shit luck with love don’t mean I don’t know it when it’s sittin’ squarely in front of me. The two of you are made for each other, and no doubt about it, but your being perfect for each other doesn’t mean that you’re actually perfect. You’re bound to make just as many mistakes as the rest of us, especially with you being so close to one another.

“Toes get stepped on, feelings get hurt—it’s only natural. The only time you need to worry is when you feel like there’s no coming back from it. You don’t feel like that, do ya? And before you answer, I’m gonna need you to push all of the dramatics aside and think on it logically.”

The look that you give him says that you can do without the sass, but you do as you’re told all the same, not that it takes much prompting. You’re hurt, sure, but even that isn’t as prominent as it had been this morning. Now you mostly just feel sad over the fact that you’re at odds with the man you love; sad and a touch embarrassed at your very public altercation. This isn’t going to be the end for the pair of you, of this you are sure, but it does shed some light on areas that you both need to work on if your relationship is to be a long and healthy one.

After letting out a drawn out breath you say, “I– No, I don’t think that at all. Clearly there are some issues that need to be addressed, but it’s nothin’ so dire as all that. I know that Javier would never purposefully hurt me in any manner any more than I’d do so to him. We both just let our emotions get the better of us this mornin’, but that ain’t exactly surprisin’, all things considered.”

Your brother hums his agreement. Though things have been markedly better this past month that isn’t saying much. The gang has only just begun to fish itself out of the mire, but there’s no saying when fate’ll decide to throw you right back into the shit. You’ve collectively got the temperament of a beaten cat, and honestly thinking on it now it’s a miracle that you and Javier managed to go this long without really snapping at each other. When you say as much Arthur laughs hardily as he gives your shoulder a fond pat.

“And just like that you’re finally able to see the forest for the trees. You’ve pretty much solved your own problem there, not that I’m surprised. You’ve always been a smart one, ____; I knew you didn’t need me telling you what you already know. All there is left to do now is kiss and make up.”

There’s an amused tilt to his lips as he jerks his chin at some unseen point behind you. You arch your brow at him, but when all he does is grin wider you turn around to find–

“Javier.” He’s here. He’s come to you.

Seeing him standing outside of Saints loosens the last bit of tension in your chest. Your feet carry you forwards without any conscious thought on your part just as Javier’s seemingly do the same. Ignoring your brother’s quip about him “–actually wanting to get some sleep tonight, so try to keep it down, alright?”, you pick up your pace until you’re standing face to face with your man.

Javier breathes out your name like a prayer to some higher power, eyes traveling over the whole of you almost as if he cannot believe that you’re actually right here in front of him. Tentative hands reach out for you, stopping just an inch short of touching, though you’re quick to bridge the gap. Despite the fact that it hasn’t even been a full half a day since last you saw one another, those interim hours felt like they ran longer, colder—and how could they not, with the way you’d left things?

An apology is slipping from between both of your lips at nearly the same time, a thing that leaves Javi taken aback.

“No-no-no,” he starts, head shaking hard, “you’ve got no reason to be sorry, amor. It doesn’t matter how worried I was, I never should’ve said what I did—or, at least, not the way that I said it.”

“But I do need to apologize,” you insist. “I know you would never belittle me like that. The way you said it definitely could’ve been better, but… I shouldn’t ‘ve, I dunno, come out swingin’ like that. I’m better than that, we both are, even if we didn’t exactly show it.”

“I… Alright then. This, uhh… This went down a lot smoother than I was expecting it to, honestly.”

You laugh a bit a that. “Yeah, well, I guess us both being at fault make it easier to forgive and be forgiven.”

“Yeah,” he replies, voice a touch sheepish, “guess so.”

You smile then, soft and sweet, as you cup his cheek with your palm. Javier is quick to lean into your touch, his own lips curling up as well before he turns to cuddle them against your hand. The tickle of his mustache against the sensitive skin causes your fingers to twitch against him, but his own hand comes up to cover yours and hold it in place; he trails his ministrations down the length of your arm, heedless of your shirt, until he’s able to kiss you properly.

Javier licks hotly into your mouth, greedily swallowing up the least little sound you make even as he strives to draw more from your throat. His hands drift down to your hips to pull you in closer as he continues to stake his claim on your lips with teasing nips and soothing swipes of his tongue that you succumb to with a sigh that is content, if laced through with longing. Your hands curl feebly against the silky brocade of his vest, needing something—anything, really—to help keep you grounded. But for all your efforts, you’re sure that the only thing keeping you upright is the arms that have since coiled around your middle.

You know that your not-so-little display of affection has to be scandalizing the good people of this small town, but neither of you have a mind to care overmuch. It isn’t until a familiar voice tells you that “You’ve already got a room, goddammit, so kindly go and use it” that you finally decide to make the short trek into the hotel’s interior. Either the receptionist recognizes you, despite the man that’s all but affixed to your face, or he wisely chooses not to confront you—again, due to the man that’s all but affixed to your face. In any event you make it to your room without incident, with Javier only pulling away long enough for you to open and then quickly close the door behind you.

When he kisses you this time it isn’t nearly as frantic as before. He’s thorough, taking his time as he remaps the whole of your form with eyes and lips and hands, as if he were actually able to forget the look and feel of you in such a short span of time. Or maybe his touch is more reverent than that, an act of worship for the body that he thought he might never be able to touch again—it would certainly explain the promises to do better for you and by you that he’s been steadily murmuring in between kisses.

There’s a ceremony to the way he removes your clothes, and it turns the simple act into a supplicant’s display of devotion. The hesitancy that he’d shown earlier is nowhere to be found as he traces over the lines of you now with calloused fingers and heated breath. There is no part of you that goes untouched, no bit left unseen, and by the time the last article is removed you’re left naked in more ways than the obvious.

Still on his knees from where he helped you out of your pants, Javier looks up at you with an expression that can only be described as awestruck, though as he kisses his way back up your body it changes into something a bit more love drunk.

“Mi corazon,” he sighs as he cradles your face between his work-rough palms, “so beautiful. How did I ever get so lucky, huh?”

You’re sure that he can feel the heat that creeps into your cheeks at that, and you’re quick to cover up your flustered state with another kiss. What starts off as an innocuous little peck soon turns into something that has you writhing against one another. Javier captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving the plush flesh a little suckle before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He owns the kiss, owns you—body, heart, mind, soul—and all you can really do is receive this outpouring of affection and lust.

When he finally pulls away some long moments later he doesn’t go far. His forehead leans heavily against your own as his hands pull you tighter against the bulge that has been growing impossibly harder this whole time.

“Tell me to stop, amor,” he says, the words breathed directly against your parted lips, “tell me right now, or I won’t be able to.”

You regard him through half lidded eyes that flutter close as you sigh out your simple reply of, “Mm, then don’t.”

And he doesn’t.

Slow ministrations are replaced by harried breaths and eager fingers and the all-consuming need to touch, claim—to feel and be felt in turn. It transforms the removal of his clothes into a nearly feral affair, one that sees seams ripping and buttons popping. Later you’ll both come to regret the fruits of your impatience, but in the now your only real concern is the more-more-more your bodies are crying out for.

Javier backs you up until you’re tumbling backwards onto the bed with a startled squawk. He follows you down with a chuckle, a dark and deep roll of a sound that would’ve surely turned your knees to smoke had you not already been lying down. Of course your man knows the effect he has on you, and ever as always he’s quick to take advantage of it, telling you to lie back so that he can “–love on you a bit, yeah?”

He leans back just enough for you to make yourself comfortable and then he’s on you again. Hot, opened mouth kisses are slurred from jaw to neck—where he stops to leave a few bites and sucks that are sure to blossom into bruises come nightfall—and beyond. His trek stops just past your bellybutton, with him nosing at the skin there. He looks up at you then, eyes impish as he takes in your mussed state and annoyed pout.

When you whine out his name he responds with a cheeky “Yes, amor?” that leaves you gritting out a sound that’s caught somewhere between a groan and a laugh.

“Your eagerness is cute, baby, but you’re gonna have to use your words.”

“Ugh, fine! Fuckin’– Touch me, please.”

You realize your mistake a moment too late. And when he’s laving over your nipple, its twin caught between teasing calloused pads, you know that you have no one but yourself to blame.

“Patience is a virtue, cariño,” he reminds you when you start to whine, his thumbnail giving your nipple a pointed flick. “Now be good, and let me have my fun. It’s been too long since last I had you writhing all pretty-like underneath me, and I’m gonna take my time with you…”

When he puts it like that how can you do anything but lay back and receive his care?

Suckles that leave you sighing out his name are punctuated by nips that see the appellation scaling up into a whine. Tugs and pinches and the scrape of blunted nails—the roughness is always followed by something to soothe, and the dichotomy leaves you writhing with anticipation.

“Ja-vi~” the second syllable sticks in your throat as the pleasure-pain of an especially vicious pinch shoots through you, “ahhh, fuck! Please. I-I need…”

The desperation in your plea sees him finally pulling his attention away from your chest. You have no idea what it is he sees when he finally looks at you properly, but it softens his gaze. His expression goes gooey as he comes to hover over you; the position that he takes up is familiar, but one that long hours and disparate schedules have lent a level of elusiveness. Having it—him—back leaves you almost delirious with several types of longing. You want everything, from him and with him, and you want it all at once. The whole of your desire is laid out on display, you’re sure, but there’s no shame in it—and how could there be, in a love so pure?

Needy hands reach out and are instantly quelled by a warm body that is more than willing to oblige. The heated press of lips is accompanied by wandering hands that drag themselves along your torso. With experience guiding him, he alternates between feather-light caresses and purposeful strokes, always choosing the one that will leave you gasping out your pleasure into your shared kiss.

By the time he finally reaches your center you’re soaked, a thing that comes as no great surprise to either of you. Javier runs playful fingers through the proof of your arousal, gathering up a portion and smearing it across their pads before popping them into his mouth. You swallow thickly as you watch the near hypnotic way his tongue laves over the digits’ length, damn near cum on the spot when he slides the whole of them past his lips with a satisfied groan. You both know exactly what it is he’s doing to you, but that knowledge does little to detract from the provocative display.

When he releases his fingers some long seconds later they’re still glistening, albeit for another reason entirely, and you find yourself biting your lip at the sight. For his part Javier just smirks at you as he comes to lean into your space once more.

“Fuck, you always taste so damn good, baby.” As if to prove his point further he kisses you hard and deep, his tongue dragging heavily along yours to make sure you’re able to savor the fullness of your tangy musk.

His laugh is breathy when he finally pulls away with a little smack of lips—lips that he licks soon after, almost as if he cannot bear to waste even a smidge of your flavor.

“I gotta get a little bit more of that– You don’t mind, do you?”

“Fuck no.”

“Heh. Didn’t think so…”

His tongue is molten when it finally drags along the length of you. He groans deeply as he laps up the fluids that all but coat your twitching sex, and the vibrations leave your hips bucking wildly against his hold. It’s a practice in futility as every pass of the slick muscle against your heated flesh creates a bigger mess for him to clean—not that either of you are complaining.

Pursed lips suckle at your weak spot in a move that leaves you keening while long, calloused fingers prod at your entrance. The sheer amount of pre alone would probably be more than enough for him to slip comfortably inside, but he spits anyway—the hot, viscous glob allowing him to slip two fingers inside in one go. Pain and pleasure briefly mingle at the stretch, though the discomfort soon fades out leaving only a burning want that has you bearing down. Javier curses hotly at the added pressure against his digits, his movements’ efforts redoubling as he strokes and prods at your fluttering walls, focusing in on that spot that always leaves you seeing stars.

“‘M close,” you tell him, the words so slurred that you barely recognize them, “‘M close, so damn close, baby—fuck!”

“Mmm, then do it, amor, cum. I wanna feel it, taste it– Give it to me.”

With how wound up you are it doesn’t take much more than a few rolls of your hips to send you careening over the edge. A week’s worth of denial sees your orgasm washing over you with all the force of a tidal wave, overwhelming you completely as it drags you into an abyss of pleasure. The gasping of your man’s name is prayer and plea both—for just as he is the only one that could ever lead you to this beautiful ruin, he’s likewise the only one who can see you through to calmer shores.

“So good for me, pretty baby, cumming like that. God, you’re beautiful.”

Though he has been steadily murmuring such words of praise since you first fell apart, you’re just now lucid enough to fully comprehend them. You feel your face flush even as your core gives a nearly painful throb. You know it’s greedy of you, wanting more when you’ve only just come down from your high, but that’s what this man does to you—and thankfully for you as well.

If your eyes are alight with flames then Javier’s are a roaring inferno from where he hovers over you. He kisses you deeply, easily stealing what little air you’ve managed to take in before asking, “Think you can give me one more?”

The question is rhetorical, of course, but you give him a shaky nod anyway. He slots his hips in against your then, and the fit is as perfect as ever. Having him so close to where you need him most is too enticing a thing, and you find yourself rutting against him without thought. The drag of his heavy cock over your heat is exquisite, pulling whimpers and whines from you as you continue to grind yourself against him. You man humors you for a few moments, allowing you to wet his cock with your arousal—all the while a decadent little smirk pulls at his lips despite the light pant he keeps up—though once he thinks your efforts are sufficient he’s lining himself up and sinking slowly in.

“Fucking tight” he growls at the same moment you groan out something about the stretch. Were you any less wrapped up in your pleasure you might’ve laughed a bit, but as it stands you only cling to the body above you as he sets up a steady pace.

Javier takes you deep and slow, with the sinuous roll of his hips only interrupted by the little snap that punctuates them. You can’t help the breathy whimpers and choked moans that push their way out of your throat any more than you can keep your fingers from digging into his shoulders, scalp, arms, and any other bits of him that your restless hands can get ahold of. Javi is just as bad off as you, having dropped his head back into the cubby between your cheek and shoulder long ago to nose at your sweat-slicked neck, the hot, wet drag of his tongue against the overly-sensitive skin there oftentimes turning into a nip or suck. His moans are almost deafening from this close, the feeling of them breaking hot and moist against you making you shiver.

“Dios, ____, baby, amor—fuck, I’m–” The rest of his sentence devolves into a growl that originates somewhere deep in his gut. “Ooooh just like that, baby, siempre me tomas tan bien. (You always take me so good.)

“I’m close,” he starts again, “so fuckin’ close, I can—hah! I can tell you are too. You wanna cum with me, yeah? You gonna do that for me, amor?”

Your replying nod is frantic as you pull him impossibly closer. “Yes, yes—please, I wanna…”

Javier promises to give you what you want—what you both need—and he delivers with hips angled just so and calloused fingers furiously rubbing against your most sensitive area.

Thoughts turned hazy from your mounting bliss whiteout completely before fireworks erupt throughout the whole of your being. You arch hard against Javi’s hold on you, hips bucking in spastic little thrusts that you could never hope to contain. Your shuddering sob of a moan holds for an impressively long time before petering out into something weaker as you finally collapse back onto the bed.

For his part you man rides the wave of your body, somehow managing to match your jerky movements enough to see himself through to his own end, shuddering his way through his release. With his eyes pinched shut and your name falling from his lips like a litany you’d almost swear that he was petitioning some exalted being. You cannot help but to admire his beauty in this moment, pushing his hair away from his sweat-slicked face before running your thumbs over the apples of his cheeks as you wait for him to come back to himself.

Once he finally settles, Javier presses a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth before maneuvering you both so that you’re tucked in against his side. His fingers skitter back and forth over your ribs as he presses a few more kisses against your dewy skin in between declarations of love and praise. The moment is tender and perfect, everything you want and need, so why do you feel like you’re on the verge of tears?

You push back against the prickling heat that stings your eyes and tightens your throat, burrowing in deeper against Javier’s side in hopes of comforting yourself as well as to keep the sudden burst of melancholy hidden away. It’s not something you want to deal with right now, not when your emotions have been all over the place for the better part of a day, but Javier has always been able to read you like an especially well-loved book. He urges you from your hiding spot with gentle hands and soft pleas for you to “–look at me, please, baby?”

When you finally gather up enough courage to meet his gaze your heart stalls for a beat or two. There’s just so much love there—raw and unfiltered—that you almost cannot bear to hold his stare, but something within you, perhaps that selfsame unadulterated love, won’t allow you to turn away.

“No tears, sweetheart,” he murmurs despite the fact that any have yet to fall. “I’m here, and I’ll always be here. Always. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your voice is small, and your smile laced through with something vulnerable when you ask, “You promise?”

“I promise. There’s nowhere else for me. My heart, my home, my whole entire life—it’s all in you, amor. Wherever you go, I swear I’ll always be right there, by your side.”

His words are simple, deceptively so, but they’re your shared truth and they’re more than enough.

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[prettyboyhub]

haikyuu boys as insecurities they find attractive/they’d help you with pt.2

[akaashi, bokuto, oikawa, atsumu]

a/n: i’m a little dumb and forgot to open my asks, but they’re open now! akaashi’s drabble hits close to home cuz this literally happened to me yesterday :| i’m gonna make these with fewer characters cuz the first post was too long LMAO

tw: body image issues, low self esteem, cussing etc. slight angst with a lot of fluff + some humor

AKAASHI is a quietly loving s/o. he prefers to care for you in ways that are subtle and consistent rather than big romantic gestures. but when you’re ready to leave the house wearing a baggy hoodie and sweatpants in 90° weather he can’t help but ask why. he says something like, “y/n, it’s too hot outside to wear that. why don’t we find you something more comfortable to wear.” you avoid eye contact and mumble a response, “i was wearing a tank top, but my friends kept saying my spine stuck out and laughed about it... i’m too SKINNY, ‘kaashi. i eat more than bokuto, but nothing helps.” he has a pained look on his face, but he listens to you rant about your insecurities. you thought he wouldn’t remember, but when you’re in bed that night he comes behind you and leaves a trail of small kisses down your spine. when he’s finished, he reassures you. “there’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. i think you’re perfect.”

BOKUTO is the most loving boyfriend you could ever ask for. he loves to brag about you and show you off to anyone who will listen. but when you shy away from his pda, it breaks his heart a little. (emo mode on 10) it triggers his sensitivity to rejection, which triggers immense feelings of guilt from you. he’ll avoid eye contact and ask quietly, “are you mad at me?” seeing him get so upset over you makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry. you manage to respond with, “not at all, bo. i’m just too shy and when everyone looks at us it makes me uncomfortable. honestly, i’m just UNCOMFORTABLE WITH PDA. i love that you’re proud of me but i can’t take having everyone’s eyes on us. i’m sorry bo, you deserve someone who loves the attention you give and doesn’t get embarrassed so easily, i’m sorr-” he cuts you off. “i didn’t even think about whether or not it would make you uncomfortable, so i’m the one who should be sorry. we don’t have to do anything in front of people! we can save it all for private!! i really love you, babe! i won’t do anything to make you nervous again, okay?” you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm to make you feel safe. you grab his hand and his eyes widen, you just said pda makes you uncomfortable?? “how about we hold hands for now? and later if i feel more comfortable, we can add other small things.” “okay!!! :D”

OIKAWA is one of the most talented people around. of course, talent comes with fangirls. it’s like your own personal hell. he never understands why you get distant after games, sometimes not even talking to him until the next day. when he approaches you about the subject, he’d never thought you’d say you have TRUST ISSUES. i mean sometimes it can seem like he’s flirting, but that’s just his charming persona. you have to explain it to him in a way that he’d understand. “toru, you haven’t done anything to betray my trust, but i have a bad history with guys being dishonest and i don’t really trust anyone fully. especially when you flirt with those girls.. i know it’s superficial but can you at least make it known that you have a girlfriend?” he gives you a funny look before answering, “everyone knows i have a girlfriend! last night, i was talking to a few girls about where i should take you to dinner this week. i know they seem flirty, but they respect our relationship. and even the ones that don’t, they know i’m happy with you.” you let out a sigh of relief, but still needed more reassurance. “you would tell me if something happened, right?” you asked him. he let out a chuckle and embraced you in a tight hug. “of course, baby. i tell you everything. you don’t have to trust me right away, but i promise to always be honest with you, alright?” (pls can we stop making fanon oikawa seem like a lying cheating whore he’s literally a good guy omfg)

ATSUMU doesn’t go falling in love with just anyone. they have to intrigue him, which doesn’t happen often. but you did right from the start. you were a foreign student who had just learned japanese. you could say exactly what you needed to, but your ACCENT made you hard to understand sometimes. it frustrated you beyond wits end that you couldn’t say certain things properly, but he adored the way you spoke. not everyone did, though. a couple of snobby teachers pointed out the fact that you sounded foreign. when atsumu found you crying about how you hated your accent, he was pissed at whoever made you feel like an outsider. “well i love yer accent, doll. i know it can be tough, and i have a bit of an accent myself, but i’d love’ta help ya in any way i can. now if you need help pronouncing a word, just come ta me and i’ll tell ya how ta say it, okay?”

atsumu bonus: you took his offer seriously and in no time, you were walking around talking just like atsumu. his little phrases and all. the team was horrified, but it made atsumu’s heart swell that you trusted him to teach you. (PLS ISNT THIS SO CUTE OMFG)

[logically-asexual]

Hold me like you mean it

summary:

Logan’s feelings for Virgil and the fact that now Virgil barely notices him are stopping him from getting any work done. Janus offers a way for Logan to cope, by disguising himself into Anxiety. but is this really what Logan needs? and what’s in it for Janus, anyway?

alternatively, an angsty story about rejection, denial, and manipulation.

note: this fic is completely written with a total of 9 chapters and 9k words, but I will be posting the chapters every couple days in hopes to build up hype. this is my first time writing something longer than ~1k and also my first time writing in A While. but I tried really hard and I’m very proud of it so I hope you like it.

note 2: please don’t take this as a guide to learn about unhealthy relationships, it's a theme in the story but it’s not meant to be educational in any way.

warnings: (for the whole fic) unrequited love, rejection, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, gaslighting, dependency, dubious consent and non consent for kissing, sad ending, depression (vaguely described), angst in general, nightmares. let me know what else i should add.

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

| Next |

words: 1,217

Logan sighed as he tossed another paper ball into the bin. His eyes were starting to burn from the strain, but he was determined to have the plan finished by tomorrow. He had started typing his ideas into his computer, but the light began to hurt as the sky became dark, and he couldn’t risk anyone seeing his room’s light on from the hall, so he had turned on a small lamp and tried again with pen and paper.

He pulled another blank paper sheet and started over. It was kind of ridiculous, when he thought about it long enough, to spend this much time trying to figure out the best way to talk to Virgil in the following days, but he had identified his lack of communication with Anxiety as the most important and urgent issue to resolve in his table of priorities. After all, Thomas had become more anxious in the past weeks. So, in order to be heard, he needed to be able to collaborate with Virgil, which would also keep Thomas’ mind clear and stop him from procrastinating so much.

Another list of ideas had almost filled the page when Logan was startled by a knock on his door, followed by the sound of his pencil dropping to the floor. He hurriedly turned the paper over, stood up, and went to open the door, hoping to end whatever interaction that was about to happen as soon as possible. He was surprised to find Janus standing on the other side. At least it wasn’t Virgil, but Logan knew either of them could easily detect the smallest sign of nervousness, and Logan was definitely nervous. It was late and he shouldn’t be working.

“Good evening Janus, is there anything I can do for you?” Logan greeted from where he stood, poking his head out of the barely open door. The sooner this conversation ends, the better, he repeated to himself. His hand tightened around the doorknob as he waited for Deceit to say something, while the other was staring at him with a slightly amused look on his face.

Just when Logan was about to tell the other to stop wasting his time, Janus spoke. “I came here to ask for your opinion on an idea I had, but I can tell you’re trying to hide something,” he said as he crossed his arms and looked into what was visible of Logan’s room, before turning his gaze back into Logan’s eyes. “So spit it out already.”

Logan glanced quickly towards the papers on his desk and back at Janus with an expression as neutral as he could manage. “I am trying to hide the fact that I am working late at night, because I must be an example to the rest of the Sides and keep a strict, healthy schedule to encourage them to do the same. Happy?”

“Of course.” Janus said, apparently satisfied, but he only gave Logan a second to feel relieved before he pushed past him into his room. He walked directly towards his desk and, out of all the objects laying on it, he picked up the one Logan dreaded the most.

Janus looked the paper sheet over as a wide grin formed on his face. Then, he held it high and began reading out loud. “Strategic Plan to Communicate Effectively with Anxiety. Updated version 5.2. Step one: approach Virgil (gently) after our next discussion and point out the arguments he made that were helpful. Step tw-”

“That’s enough.” Logan interrupted, as he snatched away the paper. “What do you want?”

“Oh you know me, I just love it when you all insist on hurting yourselves and Thomas in the name of irrelevant lies.” Janus said with a sarcastic tone, increasing Logan’s discomfort. He continued, with a mocking smile. “If you’re going to hide things, I’d prefer you do it for something useful instead of some crush.”

Logan blinked rapidly and felt heat rising to his face. “What? What are you talking about?” He took a moment to look at Janus’ unimpressed expression, while he pieced together what the other Side was implying. “You think I have a crush on Virgil? No, no. See, I have a table of problems that hinder my productivity and therefore Thomas’ that I need to address and lately Virgil hasn’t been listening or interacting at all with me, which has stopped any of my other projects from being considered, so the most logical solution is to fix that as soon as possible through effective communication with him.” He had to take air in once he finished his explanation, realizing he had uttered it all in one breath. He watched expectantly as Janus raised an eyebrow.

“Right...” Janus said, as he once more took the paper from Logan’s hand. “And what role exactly do Step six, “partake in movie nights when Virgil chooses the film,” and Step eight, “stand closer to his position on the stairs when the twins are making him uneasy” play into this… productivity thing?” Before Logan could defend his reasoning, Janus went on, now with a slightly softer expression. “Listen, Logan. I know you have a selfish motive behind this, you don’t have to hide that from me. I’m not Patton. I won’t judge you.”

Logan swallowed, embarrassed to admit this feeling, both to himself and to Janus, and replied with a whisper. “I just… miss him, and I want us to be friends again.”

“Is that all?”

Logan nodded, looking down at his shoes. After a moment, he added “we used to understand each other well, and I had an easier time working then, with him, with the rest of the Sides, and by myself.”

“Very well. If that’s the case, I think I can help.”

With the intention to ask what kind of help he meant, Logan turned his gaze back up, only to be shocked by the sight of Virgil standing in front of him. He inhaled sharply and took a step back, not moving his eyes from Virgil’s tilted smile. Once his mind caught up with what happened and what was being offered to him, he immediately refused. “No, Janus.” (Saying the name out loud helped him remind himself who really was in front of him) “I want to make things right with the real Virgil. Staying in denial and pretending things are fine won’t help anyone.”

“But it will help you, L.” He heard in Virgil’s low voice, but with Janus’ usual intonation, it didn’t match well. “You said yourself that you can’t get any work done because your mind is occupied with missing me. This way you can work on our relationship while taking the edge off.” Janus took a step towards him and put his hand on Logan’s shoulder.

Logan considered it for a second, before settling on the same answer. “No. I’m sorry, Deceit, I’ll follow my own strategy.”

Janus’ expression fell, and he shifted back into his usual appearance, but he kept his posture straight and his head high. “Fine, but my offer is still open for whenever you are ready to accept it.” With that last statement, he gave Logan his notes back. Then he walked out of Logan’s room, shutting the door behind him, leaving Logan alone in the dark.

| Next |

notes: (yes, i just talk a lot, sorry) welcome to the journey! hope you enjoy :D and if you like it pls leave a comment.

also the title is from Four Tequilas Down by dodie, (which is a big mood for the story)

[ofkareenas]

.  ∘ ∗   :   🐝   𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶   …

JANHVI KAPOOR, CIS WOMAN, TWENTY-FIVE, SHE / HER  ⟨  ✽  ⟩   hey, you haven’t bumped into  kareena puri  lately, have you? they have been living here for the past  two years  and during that time, locals have gotten to know them as  charismatic  &  creative.  a little birdie told me they can be quite  stubborn  &  opinionated  though. explains why they’re an online fashion brand owner and designer .  they really remind me of  morning beach walks, sketchbooks filled with new designs, the sound of a sewing machine running.  if you’re ever looking for them, i bet you can find them around port briar lighthouse.

hi again, it’s tally ! this is my second baby kareena !! she’s very new to me and it’s pretty exciting bc i tend to just recycle characters kjhfgkj again, if you’d like to plot, please reach out to me on dms, or you can like this and i’ll reach out. you can also talk to me on discord if you’d prefer that. ( gowon face insurance company#8416 ) also pls excuse how messy this is, i havent written a proper full intro in a while.

.  ∘ ∗   :   🐝   𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚈   …

kareena puri

march 30th, 1996 - 25 yrs old ; aries

cis woman, she/her, bisexual (closeted to her family, not so much to anyone else)

born in mumbai, india. raised in seattle, washington.

currently residing in port briar, maine

pinterest board: here

TW / CW: none, other than a controlling family, which idk if it even should be tagged but yuh

kareena knew it, she was lucky compared to others. she had it better than some of her peers, and she recognized that privilege. but if she could trade her family life for a “normal” one, she would in the quick snap of a finger.

kareena’s family was pretty much old money. she came from a long line of doctors in almost every medical field, and they own so many private hospitals and clinics in many countries. if you happen to hear the Puri family name, you probably would associate it with these things: a big hospital that you probably drove by with your car or a surgeon that your doctor wanted to refer you to.

every child in the family was expected to go to med school. it was the only way to keep the family legacy and pride going. of course, the more new generations came in the family, the more there were those who decided to take different fields of work instead. and of course, the eldest members in the family would always voice their disappointment in them, and would always make sure to remind them that they’re a disgrace no matter how successful they are in whatever field they went into.

kareena didn’t know what she was doing at the young age of sixteen. her parents would boast about how she would be a successful doctor when she grows up, just like her older siblings, and how her younger siblings would be the same as well. all kareena did was nod and smile. she didn’t want this.

the thing is, she was a naturally great student with really good grades, and yet her parents would be disappointed if she got a B+ or even an A- on a subject every once in a while. she didn’t get it. she thought she was doing her best. although the complaining about her report cards was getting a bit too much coming from her mother, and that’s when kareena really started to not give a fuck. yes, she still got good grades for her own sake, but she started to do whatever she wanted. she hung out with kids her parents would call a bad influence, and started to skip some school days or go to parties on the weekends. it was fun and liberating to her.

once her senior year was over and kareena was graduated with a high school diploma, her family was back at it again, trying to get her to apply to all the notable medical schools out there. she had protested about it, and family fights ensued, and with some threats, kareena was forced into applying. next school year, she was in another city, studying to be a surgeon, and her mind wasn’t into it at all. she only lasted one year before she decided to drop out and transfer to FIDM, a fashion school in L.A, instead.

kareena has always been into fashion. the way she dressed would tell you so. how she was always on the latest fashion, and how she would have so many sketchbooks and scrapbooks of fashion related things. she loved making her own clothes at home with her sewing machine. her mother would tell her that it’s a nice hobby, but she never guessed that her daughter would want to pursue it as a career. the color drained out of her face when she saw what kareena had done. she was angry and disappointed, and mostly worried about what the rest of the family would say, more than she cared about her daughter’s wants and needs. kareena, however, didn’t care. she was happy. she moved out to be closer to campus, and soon enough after graduation, she left everything behind and decided to go somewhere quieter: port briar, maine. this was completely different from everything she was used to, it was so quiet and small, but she loved it. she finally feels at peace with herself.

now, kareena is a successful fashion designer. she started an online business, and it has been booming, with fashion influencers promoting her work. she was hoping that someday she would get to do bigger things, like making custom items for celebrities and being featured in fashion magazines and fashion weeks. she could only wish and work towards that for now.

and even with all of that, even when kareena had picked herself up from the ground on her own and built her own business, her family still didn’t approve. they still pretended to care about her, but would make sure to remind her of how disappointed they are in her and the path she’d taken. they would sit and wonder what it would’ve been like if she continued to go to med school, and how successful she could’ve been. and all kareena would do in response is smile and say that she’s successful anyway, but at least now she’s doing something she actually loves.

.  ∘ ∗   :   🐝   𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂   …

born in mumbai, india. moved to seattle, washington when she was still a baby, and was raised there for the rest of her life, all while still visiting family back home.

kareena is the middle child of 5 siblings. two older brothers and two younger sisters

she is bisexual, and she’s pretty open about it. except to her family. shes not out to them

she believes in working hard, but she also believes that everyone deserves to have fun and get a break every once in a while. she currently is the only main person doing all the work for her business, but she’s hoping to soon hire anyone who has the same interests as her

her designs are mostly evening wear dresses and such. think teuta matoshi or marionela type of dresses, all flowy and puffy, giving fantasy feels

altho i would say her success is more like early hope macaulay, when she was still starting out. if no one is familiar with her, she is an irish fashion and textile designer who got famous for her knit wear on instagram, and she’s p young !! u might recognize her work if u look her up <3

she currently lives alone port briar, with her rented home facing the beach. exactly how she likes it. it was different and definitely not lavish like her home growing up, but she liked it better. she could’ve lived somewhere more expensive, but she didn’t want that.

owns a studio where she usually works. there is more space for her there than what she used to have at home. all the design process, sewing and even photoshoots take place there usually

if not working, kareena could be found at the rocky beaches near the port’s lighthouse or off somewhere on an adventure. she is always here to have a good time

honestly kareena is still such a new character for me, so if i think of any other hcs, i’ll add them here

.  ∘ ∗   :   🐝   𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂   …

friends from school, could be from seattle or L.A: kareena would’ve kept in contact with those friends tbh shes the type of person to keep her friends around. even if they were just added to her snapchat or followed on instagram. she would keep up with them

toxic relationship / gf: THIS

exes ?? we could definitely plot this out

high school ex perhaps 👀

FWB: no strings attached 

neighbors: she lives on sea sprite lane

family members? kareena would be hoping that left them all behind in the past, but it can’t be denied that she has a big family and she could possibly run into any of them at any moment

omg crush perhaps ! idm if it’s one sided, and it could either be kareena having feelings or the other person

a friend she had a falling out with: she probably met this person two years ago when she first moved here. something might’ve happened and one thing after another, they dropped each other and it was probably the worst falling out for both of them

clients / customers for her business perhaps. or maybe a helping hand!! 

literally anything u wanna do, lets gooo

[princessjungeun]

Sunshine on A Cloudy Day: Sana x Reader

tw// chronic illness, hospitals, needles, mention of cancer

it’s a high school au btw

this is based on my personal experience. pls be respectful as it wasn’t easy for me to write this :)

Your alarm played through your room, waking you up immediately. You pressed snooze at least seven times before actually getting up and dressing yourself for the long day that was to come.

You pulled on your favorite t shirt and pajama pants before tugging on a sweatshirt. You checked the time before packing your bag, making sure to add your laptop and phone along with their chargers, snacks, socks, favorite stuffed animal, and a few extra school assignments.

By the time you made it downstairs your mom was already waiting for you. Quickly she handed you an apple and muffin to eat on the car ride.

“Okay sweetie I have a meeting this morning from 8 until 11. I’ll bring you lunch, just text or call and tell me what you want.” Your mother spoke not taking her eyes off the road as she drove.

Your mom pulled out her wallet and handed you two familiar cards, telling you to tuck them away until someone inside asked for them.

“Alright sweet girl I’ll be back soon, if they have any issues call me and I can sort it out.” Your mom kissed your forehead before letting you out the car, watching you walk inside before driving away.

Your feet felt heavy as the familiar smell of saline and disinfectant filled your nose. You grabbed a disposable mask off the lobby desk and put it on.

As you started to walk towards the elevator a woman called after you “maam!”

You turned around and pulled down the mask “don’t worry I’m still a minor. I’m going to the 4th floor.”

The woman nodded and gave you a thumbs up with a smile before turning back to check in adults.

It was still early so not many people were in the hallways, except the emergency wing. It is always packed no matter what.

You made your way to the fourth floor hoping if you wakes slower you just wouldn’t have to go. But that wasn’t how it worked and you knew it.

When you entered the waiting room you found a seat by the window. The dull grey sky offered no source of light, leaving you to rely on the fluorescent ceiling panels for brightness.

“Miss Y/LN?” The woman at the desk called your name, waving you over.

“Good morning sweetie haven’t seen you for a few weeks now.” She smiled as she spoke her tone was calming but also happy.

She asked “you got the insurance card for me?” You nodded and handed her one of the cards waiting for her to tell you how much you owed for today’s visit.

“And you have a $30 copay today, would you like to take care of that now?” You nodded and handed her the second card your mom gave you earlier. She finished checking you in “alright they’ll call you back in a bit.”

You sat down and pulled out your phone knowing that your girlfriend was actually awake now.

Y/N: hey

Sana 💞: good morning jagi

Sana 💞: you have an appointment today right?

Y/N 💘: yeah...kinda just wanna go back home

Sana 💞: it’s okay i’ll come over after school and make it better

Y/N 💘: you don’t have to i’ll be fine, this isn’t new

Sana💞: no girlfriend obligations

Sana 💞: i’m coming and you can’t stop me

Y/N 💘: okay fine

Y/N 💘: i’ll text you later, they’re calling me back now

•

•

•

It didn’t take long for your nurse to call you back and get you situated in a treatment room. There was only one other patient along with you. It was a little girl no more than 3 years old. You didn’t know exactly what she was getting but your heart broke at the thought considering what department you were in, Cancer and Blood Disorders.

It took 3 hours for your IV bag to get delivered to your floor so you turned on the tv hoping something good was on. You settled on Moana, the only thing that wasn’t the news.

“Alright love we just got your bag, you know the drill, vitals every ten minutes for the first 30 then i’ll come every hour. We should have you out in 5 hours if everything goes well okay?” Your favorite nurse Haseul explained to you quickly what was going to happen.

You found yourself in this same spot with her every couple weeks so she knew how you liked things to go.

“So how’ve you been missy? How’s Sana?” She poked your side getting you to smile for the first time today.

You told her “she’s really good...I haven’t seen her in three weeks though. She got sick for two and she had finals this week, but today is her last one.”

Haseul checked “so you didn’t see her when she was sick right? You know you can’t be around that with your anemia.”

You nodded softly remembering why you were even in the hospital in the first place. What was once a slight iron deficiency quickly turned into a chronic anemia that couldn’t be healed with oral supplements. Doctors had no other option than to put you on infusion treatments which sucked.

Although people were definitely going through worse, especially in this department, that didn’t take away from what you dealt with. The constant fatigue, dizziness, falling asleep in class, hair loss, being malnourished, all of it a constant reminder that you weren’t like most.

“Y/N!” Haseul snapped her fingers in front of your face.

You blinked rapidly “sorry what?”

Haseul responded “it’s okay I just needed to make sure you didn’t pass out on me. I need to put on your heart monitor.” She placed the stickers on your chest before grabbing the IV kit she placed on your lap earlier.

“Alright in your hand or arm today?” Haseul knows you prefer the arm but she always asks in case you change your mind.

You simply pointed to your arm before extending it so she could access your vein. Finding your vein was no problem, as you still had a raised bump from the last time you got treatment.

“Okay...and one two- there you go.” Haseul secured the IV with a Tergaderm, which was weirdly enough your favorite part of this whole process.

She left you and cane back every ten minutes to check your vitals before disappearing to help another patient for a bit.

You ended up spending the first two hours dozing in and out of sleep, waiting for your mother to call you. Eventually you did in fact wake up, and to the smell of your favorite food.

Your mother sat in a chair next to you on her phone talking to who you assume is a coworker. Quickly she hung up the phone so she could talk to you instead.

“Hey hows it going so far?” She asked with slight concern.

You told her “ fine just sleeping to pass time that’s all.”

She smiled before handing you a bag of food hoping it’d bring some form of joy to your day.

•

•

•

You both ended up enjoying an early lunch together but unfortunately she had to leave the hospital for an emergency meeting. It wasn’t unusual for this to happen so you were used to it, she’d simply be back at the end of your appointment.

Your phone buzzed next to you, pulling your attention away from your mother’s absence.

Sana💞: how are you doing so far?

Y/N💘: it’s good. I’m watching Aladdin now :)

Sana💞: i wanna be there with you rn instead of in math class

Y/N💘: your day is almost over then you can see me

Y/N💘: think of it that way

Sana💞: yeah but i still wish i was with you

Y/N💘: soon

Sana💞: ok fine. i have to go i love you

Y/N💘: i love you too babe

Around the third hour you became irritable and ended up walking the hallways with Haseul. She was honestly the only thing that made you feel normal in this place.

When the two of you got back you were tired and worn out from the walk. It didn’t seem like a long distance to most but you definitely were feeling it.

You found your spot back in the treatment room, sitting in your chair and reclining it back. Just as you were going to close your eyes Haseul called your name.

“Y/N. You’ve got a visitor would you like her to come back?” Haseul didn’t bother to open the curtain to tell you who it was so being the curious girl you were, you allowed it.

Sana walked in with a smile on her face, it was like your sunshine on a cloudy day. It was clear she had just finished school as she was still in her uniform, and she was wearing her backpack.

“Ho- Sana? Why? How did you even get in here?” You asked her through a laugh.

Sana responded “nobody stopped me downstairs and I know you’re on this floor. The lady at the desk outside was very nice too!”

You immediately sat up, not realizing that was a bad idea given your position. Closing your eyes tight you tapped your finger on the arm rest of your chair, waiting for the dizziness to stop.

When you opened your eyes you saw Sana in front of you, a frown on her face. It broke her heart to see you, her girlfriend, in this state. You always tried to make it seem like you weren’t sick but it was very obvious that you still were no matter how much you pretended otherwise.

She placed a blanket over you before running her thumb along your face and softly saying “my baby girl...”

You smiled at her knowing it might possibly make her less sad but it didn’t do much.

She could tell you were tired so she told you “it’s fine just sleep.”

By the time you woke up it was time for you to leave. Haseul had flushed your IV and took your vitals for the last time while you were asleep.

Your mother was downstairs in the parking garage waiting for you and Sana so you could go home.

It was clear by the look on your face that you felt nauseous, a common side effect of your treatment, from the second you stood up.

Sana gathered your things and help you put on your sweatshirt and bag before you two headed downstairs.

You interlocked you’re hand with hers as you felt dizzier with every step you took. She could tell you were having a hard time but she knows how much you try to hide it. When you both made it to the car you fell asleep almost instantly.

Sana helped you to your room, quickly helping you to bed before stealing some of your clothes to wear for herself.

You sleepily held out your arms for her, a soft whimper leaving your lips. She crawled under the covers and you immediately clung to her. You were shivering as if you were standing in snow with only a bathing suit on. Your hands and fingers started turning blue, indicating you body temperature was dropping, a side effect of treatments.

Sana pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head as your fingers curled around her shirt, holding her close.

It only took ten seconds before you started sobbing into her chest. As much as you wanted to pretend you were fine and not in pain, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Breaking down in her arms you sobbed until you fell asleep. She felt terrible knowing there was nothing she could do to fix it, but she knew that you appreciated her being there for you.

You only slept for an hour before you woke up in a cold sweat. Your t shirt clung to your back as you kicked off your blankets seeking some sort of way to cool yourself down. That did little to nothing so you scrambled to the bathroom hoping cold water would do the trick.

Sana knew this was yet another side effect of your treatment, a high fever. Your cheeks burned red as you splashed your face with water in the sink. Much to your relief it worked and you were finally able to get back in bed with her.

Your girlfriend held you in her arms tight as if she never wanted to let go.

“Thank you...” You softly spoke as she drew small circles along the small of your back.

“For what?” She asked curiously.

You mumbled “everything...just everything you do for me.”

She giggled softly “you know i’d do anything for you baby.”

Mumbling softly you told her “i love you.”

She responded quickly “i love you too.”

Letting your eyes close you further melted into her embrace as she tightened her arms around you. In the back of your mind you were reminded why you always said i love you before you fell asleep. Besides the fact that you did in fact love her, but if you happened not to wake up tomorrow, the last thing she heard from you was those three words.

Nevertheless you hoped and prayed you’d wake up in the morning to see her smiling face.