#it's do many little things that feel like they should be nothing

[chuulyssa]

── ★ the one bed trope™ with the squid game men

teaser the guards cleared out too many beds after the last game, assuming there are far fewer survivors than expected. so when your group stumbles into the dormitory, you realize the horrible truth: there’s only one bed for every two players, and your bed is missing!

starring inho gihun (drabbles) & daeho sangwoo ali (hcs) x gn!reader genre fluff fluff all fluff, some nightmares, some crack

a/n wasnt gonna watch s2 but then i saw the lee byunghyun edits and sjsjs theres only few chars here because i havent watched the whole season :( i dont think ill be watching the whole thing any time soon, jus waiting for s3 to drop before watching it all together

inho / youngil / the frontman / 001

youngil stared at the guards while you stared at the bed in front of you. it looked stiff and scratchy, and barely wide enough for one person, let alone two.

“we can share. i don’t mind,” he had said to you, though he had looked tense as well. he sat on the bed, allowing you to scoot over. he laid as close to the edge of the cot as possible.

“oh, it won’t be necessary.”

“well, what other choice do you have?”

you sighed and nodded, awkwardly laying down next to him on the bed. as your shoulders touched each other, he relaxed visibly, though he was still lying on the edge, and that scared you a little.

“stop lying on the edge like that. you’ll fall off,” you warned.

“i’m fine,” he mumbled, staring right up at the ceiling. you kept looking at him, not minding the three times he had glanced your way pointedly at all. “don’t stare.”

“hm, why not?”

“it makes me feel strange,” he said simply.

you nodded, your hands instinctively reaching to your arms to shield yourself from the cold. there was only one blanket with only one bed after all. next thing you knew, you felt the blanket being nudged towards you by youngil’s foot.

“i saw that; it’s not very subtle, you know.”

“what’s not very subtle?” he asked innocently. then he shifted his body closer to yours. “it’s not because of you, okay?” he muttered quietly. “i just didn’t feel like falling off.”

“are you asking for cuddles now?” you snickered.

“no,” he replied gruffly, though his eyes softened slightly at the sound of your silent laughter.

“nuh uh, i think you’re cold as well,” you lifted the blanket up to accommodate him as well. you then glanced at him expectantly. he hesitated for a moment before slipping under the blanket, taking the moment to tightly grasp your hand. you smiled, resting your head above his shoulder on the shared pillow.

you woke up in the middle of the night to find him softly murmuring your name in his sleep. he looked peaceful, beautifully so. you brushed your hand on his chest to wrap it around him, and felt him waking up as well.

“hush, go back to sleep,” you whispered to him, and he raised an eyebrow at nothing in particular. his eyes were still closed. then he let out a tiny giggle and tightened his grip on your hands.

the guards executed this one perfectly, right as per orders from the frontman; hwang inho will make sure to reward them later, but for now he’d rather stay in this shared bed with you by his side.

seong gihun / 456

“i guess it can’t be helped then,” gihun said simply, sitting you down on his bed and pulling the covers over you. “sorry if i snore by the way.”

“what do you mean? where will you be sleeping?”

“on the floor, of course.”

“no, you’re not,” you shook your head, patting the empty space beside you. “i still have some place left here for someone.”

“oh, then let me find someone who can’t find a partn—”

you pulled the man down onto the bed, his face crashing against the pillow. throwing the covers over him as well, you turned to face him, muttering, “you really aren’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“no, uhm, what if i hog the blanket? that would be unpleasant—”

“i can live with that.”

gihun blinked rapidly. “i don’t think i should be sleeping. what if someone attacks?”

“relax, they’re keeping watch.”

“i think i should keep watch with them,” gihun gulped at your proximity.

“well, i don’t. and you need sleep; have you seen yourself?” you laughed.

gihun beamed at the sound. “then how about I tell you a story?”

“a story?”

“yeah, to make you happy.”

“why though?” you said tiredly.

“to make you laugh. i like seeing you laugh,” he said genuinely, and you nodded in response. his eyes lit up and he began, “so there was this one cow, and it had a baby cat—”

…

“gihun?”

he snored.

“gihun!”

he snored again.

did he really fall asleep mid-sentence? you sighed, shaking your head before snuggling up to him. he unconsciously draped an arm over you in his sleep.

throughout the night, he kept tossing and turning, before—

smack !

you clutched your face where gihun’s hand had just made contact. before letting out the loud cuss you wanted to, you peeked over to see if he was asleep. and sure enough, if the snores hadn’t let it be known earlier, then the closed eyes did.

“this dumbass,” you muttered, nuzzling your face into his side.

but what could you do either way? if you complained, he’d be mortified and force you to switch places, and you’d lose a chance to cuddle with him. so you instead figured the occasional smacking would be worth being the first person to see his hair sticking out in every direction with his sheepish grin in the morning.

a/n: i’ve only got hcs for the others; sorry guys i prefer my old men inho and gihun :P

daeho / 388

he insists on taking the less comfortable side of the bed

even if that meant he barely has any space MY GNELTMAN

at some point his hand will brush yours (because its an ff duh) and he’ll get all startled like :O

but he won’t move away because he decides he likes it

we all know the trauma this man carries :( so don’t be surprised when his grip on your hand loosens in the middle of the night and his face scrunches up because he’s having a nightmare

just please cuddle with him :(( he’ll try to play it off like it’s nothing but know better!

when you quietly offer comfort, his defenses will crumble, and he’ll whisper a quiet thank you to you

in the morning he’ll wake up before you and realize just how close the two of you are.

he’s been bearhugging you in his sleep and you’re reciprocating it? hes so confused like ??????? do you wanna get choked or sum yes you do

he’ll just quietly stare at you as if he’s in a daze. he’s got that lovesick smile and all, just silently looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen you are

he just as silently fixes the blanket on you because he wants to offer as much comfort as you did last night to him

then he’ll gently apologize to you for disturbing you, smiling to himself when you grumble in your sleep

sangwoo / 218

this little shit

he’ll pretend not to care about you or about the bed or about the entire situation at all

but you can see how he tries to be as subtle as possible when adjusting the pillow under your head to make sure you’re comfortable

you’re practically begging him to accept his feelings atp but this man is a menace

as soon as he saw the one bed he started calculating how much space you’ll take and how much he’ll get

if you shift closer in your sleep he’ll freeze for a moment but he won’t pull away

if you move a lot in your sleep he won’t say anything just yet

but expect to be bombarded with complaints when you wake up in the morning

he watches you out of the corner of his eye, something he describes as “just trying to protect you” by “keeping watch” but you know he’s just dazzled by your beauty who isnt

he’ll lie awake for a while staring up at that huge piggy bank that his future lies in, and he knows he can’t love you like he wants to, but he hopes that just this once his brain will accept what his heart feels

when the sunlight hits his face in the morning, he’ll look so peaceful that it makes even ali question his mood

all the while gihun is just staring in horror at sangwoo like he got some puss

ali / 199

THE POOKIEST POOKIE

he’s so shy UGH i jus wanna gobble him up sjsjsjkgnskjn

but he can’t help smiling softly when he realizes how comfortable you seem to be around him

he’ll offer to sleep on the cold hard floor and insists you take the blanket for yourself, but duh you don’t allow that

so with a grin on his face he lies down next to you

he asks you if you need more space at least 10 times, he’s that nervous

the blanket stays on you though, he can’t risk you feeling cold or uncomfy because of him GNELTMENANN

he’ll stay awake if you want someone to talk to, or to make sure you’re warm enough, or even just to admire you

but if you don’t want that, he’ll pull an aurora and fall asleep so quickly you don’t even realize it

his hand stays brushing against yours under the blanket though, and you feel so warm and fuzzy next to him

he’s a snuggler, so there’ll be times where he’ll shift very close to you in his sleep, not realizing the hand he’s keeping on your waist or the head he’s resting on your chest

someone points it out in the morning and he’s so flustered he apologizes profusely even though you keep telling him you didn’t mind it all

definitely says something like “i slept with you, remember?” because he doesn’t realize it’s an innuendo

© chuulyssa 2025 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[midnighvtm4ss]

Oh you sweet, poisonous thing

summary: just Arthur yearning and being jealous of reader and Javier. Enjoy😽

pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader

content: fluff, jealousy, a hint of angst maybe ?? idk

wc: 1,8k

a/n: *taps into the mic* heyy,,, how y’all doing *voice echoes, crickets can be heard in the distance* so i kinda disappeared from tumblr ik. I went through a rough period and I thought a lot about what to do with this account. I lost all motivation to write for a while ngl, but after some thinking i decided that no matter what I’ll keep writing and posting here. After all this was and still is my little safe space where i can just forget about my life and post silly things about cowboys sooo yeah have some Arthur yearning because we should bring back yearning in 2025. ok i yapped enough bah byee

The cracking sound of the campfire travels softly in the center of camp, casting long, flickering shadows that stretch and shift over the familiar faces of the gang, dancing on their features to the sound of the soft music leaving Javier’s guitar.

It had been a rare, uneventful day—the kind where, surprisingly, nothing went wrong, and the world seemed to hold its breath afraid to burst the serene and quiet bubble that engulfed all round the camp. The stillness settled over the gang’s members like a balm, soothing old wounds and lifting everyone’s spirits. By evening, an easy carefree air had taken root, boosted by a few shared drinks and Javier’s guitar.

You sit near the fire, sandwiched between Karen and John, the blonde slouched lazily at your side, her cheeks flushed from the too many whiskey glasses she downed. Javier is in a contagious good mood, sitting on the ground near John strumming another lively tune as he leans toward you, his bronze skin glowing in the campfire’s light and he’s grinning like at you like the charmer he is.

“Why don’t you sing with me, cariño,” he says, his voice playfully teasing. A chorus of groans and exaggerated complaints come from around the campfire, the gang all too eager to tease you about the first and fortunately the last time you sang around the campfire in Horseshoe Overlook after you had too many to drink. You remember waking up the morning after with a terrible headache and the sweet memory of laughter shared around the warmth of the campfire.

You laugh at their reaction, shaking your head. “I think I’ll save everyone’s ears this time, thank you.”

Javier chuckles and with that resumes playing, his voice low and smooth. His energy is infectious, pulling easy smiles and a few soft laughs from everyone. But in the back of your mind, you can feel that there’s a subtle shift in the air—a pull, a presence that tugs at your attention like a ping you can’t ignore. It’s faint at first, almost imperceptible, but it grows stronger, undeniable, familiar. You glance toward the edge of camp, and as suspected there he is.

He’s leaning against one of the wooden posts near the horses, half swallowed by the shadows, the dim firelight barely reaching the brim of his worn hat. His broad shoulders are hunched, arms crossed tightly over his chest like he’s trying to protect himself, to keep something away though you’re not sure he even knows what it is. His aqua eyes are sharp even in the shadows, and they’re fixed directly on you.

As the weight of his gaze settles over you like a heavy fog, thick and tangible, despite the distance between you, a shiver runs down your spine. Your chest tightens, as if the very air around him has thickened with unspoken things.

You’ve known him long enough to feel a quiet storm building in the depths of his quiet, unshakable composure. It’s not indifference nor anger. It’s something else—something raw and unspoken but you can’t, and maybe won’t, put a name on it.

When Javier nudges you playfully, you force yourself to focus back on him, offering him a smile that you hope conceals the tension swirling inside of you. Still, the weight of Arthur’s gaze doesn’t leave you, not even as the evening stretches on.

As the night deepens, the fire crackles low. One by one, people begin to drift off, leaving just you, Tilly, Lenny, Javier, and Karen around the fire. Tilly, who had joined your little circle a few hours earlier, is lively chatting with Lenny about some gossip she’d overheard in town, her voice bright with excitement seemingly unphased by the late hour. Meanwhile, Karen has fallen asleep with her head resting on your shoulder, undoubtedly drooling a bit on your blouse. This leaves you and Javier alone, the conversation between you two flowing easily, until he eventually sets his guitar aside with a stretch, breaking the comfortable atmosphere.

“Already going to bed ?” you tease, nudging him gently on the side. “Won’t you play me another song before you go to sleep ?”

He smirks, shaking his head with a wink.

“Tomorrow.” He promises winking at you. He stands up and disappears into the shadows of the night. After a few minutes Karen stirs awake, mumbling something about needing another drink before bed, lazily getting up on her feet, shuffling toward the camp’s supply.

After that it’s just you, Tilly and Lenny sitting near the dying fire. From your peripheral vision you can see the dark silhouette of Arthur sitting at the worn wooden round table under the tall tree in camp. You don’t look at him, not directly, but you feel his presence like a thread pulling between you. You sit there, looking at the fire contemplating if approaching him or calling it a night.

When you finally stand, your feet move before your mind can catch up with your actions. You carefully walk towards him, finding him hunched slightly over the table, his broad shoulders tense as he stares down into the nearly empty glass in his hand.

“Mind if I join you ?” you say pausing a few feet away. The sound of your voice softly filling the cold air around you both.

Arthur doesn’t immediately look up, his focus still fixed on the amber liquid swirling in his glass. You nearly contemplate leaving when after a long moment, he tips his head in a slow, deliberate nod. “Suit yourself.”

You take a seat across from him, your hands folding in your lap playing with a few loose threads as you settle into the quiet. For a long moment, neither of you speak. The noise of the evening has faded away, leaving the camp wrapped in the soft rustle of trees and the distant sound of crickets.

“Tired ?” you finally ask, your voice hesitant, breaking the silence.

Arthur huffs a low breath, his eyes never leaving the glass. “Long day,” he mutters, a simple response that tells you nothing.

You nod, though his answer feels like a wall, a quick, easy way to avoid revealing something deeper. There’s something bothering him, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system or maybe you simply care too much for him but you’re determined to find out what.

“Javier kept everyone entertained tonight,” you say lightly, your words casual, trying to spark a conversation, though you’re watching him closely.

Arthur’s grip on his glass tightens just enough for his knuckles to go pale against the clear glass. “Yeah,” he replies, his tone flat. “He’s good at that.”

The space between you feels heavier now, filled with something unspoken, a tension that neither of you acknowledges directly. You lean back in your chair, letting the silence settle between you, but you can’t ignore the flicker of his eyes as they meet yours, then quickly shift away like he’s afraid of what might show if he stares at yours too long.

“What’re you drinking ?” you ask after a moment, breaking the quiet.

“Whiskey.”

“‘S that the good whiskey Pearson’s been hiding, or the usual watered down crap ?”

Arthur’s lips twitch, almost imperceptibly, clearly fighting a smile. “Usual crap,” he murmurs. “Pearson ain’t that generous.”

You laugh softly, the sound easing some of the tension that’s built between you. But still, it lingers, just beneath the surface, like something you both know but can’t put into words.

“You seemed quiet tonight,” you say after a pause, studying him closely.

Arthur shrugs, lifting his glass to his lips, the movement slow, as if every motion is carefully measured.

“Didn’t feel like talkin’.”

You watch him, your gaze tracing the line of his jaw, his wet lips and the way his fingers absently trace the rim of his glass. He’s not being completely honest—that much you know, but you’ve learned to read between the spaces of his words.

“Or maybe you just didn’t like the company,” you offer, your tone playful but with an edge to it.

Arthur’s eyes snap to yours, sharp and unmoving. “I didn’t say that,” he replies, his voice low, almost a growl.

He holds your gaze a beat longer than necessary, and you feel the weight of it settle deep in your chest, making your breath hitch. There’s something in his eyes, something raw, vulnerable that makes your heart stutter. You’re not sure if he sees how your composure falters, but he’s the first to look away, tipping his hat lower over his brow to shield his expression.

You’ve always hated when he does that—you’ve always hated the way he uses it to put a distance between you, but now more than ever you hate it because it feels like the wall between you is growing thicker and you’re not sure if you can get through anymore.

“You’re a hard man to figure out Arthur Morgan,” you say softly, the teasing edge gone from your voice. He doesn’t answer right away, and when he does, it’s in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

You bite your lower lip in frustration but then you force yourself to swallow down your disappointment. The conversation shifts then, moving toward more trivial things like the weather, the horses, Pearson’s latest disaster with the stew. But even as you talk, you know that there’s another conversation happening in the spaces between words, in the glances you exchange, in both your body language, in the way the silence sometimes wraps itself around you both.

You don’t speak of it. You don’t name it. Neither of you can, but you know it’s there.

“Good night Arthur,” you say, your voice quieter than you intended. You give him a sweet smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, before you stand, the weight of your own tiredness forcing you to seek the sweet embrace of your bed.

He doesn’t reply right away, just gives a slow tip of his hat. “Night.”

As you start to take a few steps away from the table, you feel his gaze on your back—steady, unwavering. It feels like it’s burning into your skin.

You glance over your shoulder, just once, and meet his eyes. For a moment, they’re distant, almost lost, like he’s somewhere far away in thought. But as your gaze lingers, you catch something else, something in the way his eyes soften, the barely perceptible softening of his eyebrows. It’s not a look of anger or frustration that he gives you, no, he’s looking at you with something deeper, something raw.

It’s the kind of look that makes your chest tighten, a sweet warmth settling between your ribs. He doesn’t need to say anything, you can feel it in the glance between you—the weight of all the things neither of you will dare to speak aloud.

In that brief moment, you understand. And it’s enough to leave you walking away with butterflies storming in your stomach and the strange sense that you’ve just shared something deep, something fragile with him without ever needing to say a word.

[artdcnaldson]

not to be too insane but… thinking about art shooting blanks because he’s cum so many times…. maybe you’re trying something new with him for the first time and he’s liking it a little toooooo much….

This is one of my favorite things and it isn't even funny....

Even something sooo simple, like you're just using a little bullet wand on his tip while you jerk him off and play w his pretty, full balls :( It's so simple, but he can't fucking take it.

Your mouth on his neck, sucking slow, sweet kisses as you press the vibrator just below his tip, so it buzzes on the lowest setting against his frenulum. Your soft hands stroking featherlight over his balls then up to trace over the veins on his shaft. He twitches in your hand, panting and whining as you just play with him. Your legs are thrown over his, his back to your chest, so he feels trapped against you.

"Feels good?" You murmur, lips grazing his earlobe.

He nods, exhales shakily. "Uh-huh." It's the best he can do.

You wait until he's well and truly desperate— when he's dripping pre and moaning all soft and pretty. He barely manages a few slow, tight strokes before he's shooting thick ropes all over his tummy.

And he doesn't want it to stop. He cries out and squirms, but when you try to pull the vibe away, he just grabs onto your wrist to stop you. "Keep going," he moans, head lolling back against your shoulder. "Feels good. Feels so good. Please don't stop, baby."

And, god, you relish in it. You love when he's so lost in it— when all of his brain power is tuned in to the sole purpose of feeling pleasure. Mind turned off, but his body acts on pure instinct. Hips canting, bucking into your cum-slick fist.

So you turn the vibrator up, just two settings, and he cries out pathetically as you tease the vibrator around the tip of his cock, flushed a ruddy red of overstimulation. Really, he's flushed all over— from the tips of his ears down his chest, his pretty bitten lips and his cheeks. Pretty.

It doesn't take long for him to cum again, this time so hard that he trembles from the force of it. His release dribbles down the vibe, coating your fist messily.

"Do you have another one for me?" You murmur in his ear, and he whines.

It turns out, he has two left in him, each load smaller than the last. His cock is an angry red, the base of him is sticky with a mess of cum in various stages of drying. His abs flex, fluttering as you turn the vibe to its highest setting and cup his balls in your hand, massaging as you mouth at his throat. You feel them draw up tight, as his moans grow more desperate and his cock pulses with what should be an orgasm, but nothing comes out.

He whines, squirming as he gasps out a pathetic stop, stop, and you finally relent.

He's a total mess. Breathing like he's run a marathon— glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. He laughs as you kiss his jaw, again and again. "You're insane," you whisper affectionately.

"I need a nap." And he barely manages to roll onto his tummy and nuzzle against your chest before he's dozing off.

[revelboo]

Has anyone told you today you are one of the best blogs to be found this side of the sun? Cause you sure as hell are. Also I cry every time at TFP Starscream being called a "turkey" cause omg he looks like one 😂 (thats also a nickname I got a lot as a kid xD A varient of "goober" lol) Also glad you are starting to upload some of these to Ao3 cause tumblr can be kinda hard to find things on xD especially with longer things. Also as a Optimus lad im falling over myself for you OP stuff, I eat everyting up between Op stuff and eagerly await TFA Op again (whenever you get the vibe to at least)

He’s definitely one of my favorite iterations of Optimus! Still serious, but not as jaded and so burned out, much more willing to smile still

Broken Heart Pt 3

TFA Optimus x Reader

• Always uncomfortable picking up and carrying Sari because of how fragile she is, you're no better. Can feel your heart beating against his servos, but where Sari is bold and fearless, you're less certain and almost timid in his hands. Glancing up at his face again and again as he carries you cradled to his chassis. Do you feel pressured to go with him? Is that it? He hadn't meant to make you feel like you had no choice. "Are you sure you don't need a human medic?" Reaching a servo to touch your forehead and the little cut there, he’s uncomfortably aware of the discolored spots appearing on your skin. Bruises Sari had called them and these are his fault. Unable to protect you from his own hands.

• Shaking your head, you're not sure if it's because he saved you from that other one or if it's his deep, soothing voice, but you feel safe with him. “You saved my life,” tell him, cautiously resting a palm against his chassis when he looks down at you. “I- thank you,” you finish awkwardly, hating how inadequate those words are. He could have saved himself, not risked his own life to try and protect you, a complete stranger not even his own species. He’d been hurt for you. And nothing you do can ever be enough to repay him for that.

• You’re thanking him? Don’t you realize Blitzwing only attacked because of him? If anything, you should hate him. He should be begging you to forgive him for endangering you, but the words fail him when you rest your head against his chassis. And you’re so small in his servos, warm and needing him in a way Sari rarely does with so many other protectors who are better at talking to her. Connecting and understanding her. “You never need to thank me for keeping you safe.” Aware of Bulkhead watching the interaction, he vents softly. Because no matter what he does, there’s always going to be that guilt that you were in danger because of him and he wants so bad to make it right.

• Relaxing into those big hands, exhaustion is all that’s left after the fear and adrenaline slip from you. Just want to curl up and rest. Maybe have a good cry somewhere safe. And even though you have no idea where he’s taking you, you’re strangely sure it is a safe place. That there’s nowhere safer than in his hands. When he approaches the old building, it doesn’t look that impressive as the green one slides open the big hangar style door so they both can duck inside. And then your heart is racing again. There’s more of them, see their optics widen when they spot you before a red and white one hurries over. From somewhere further inside the building, you can smell chili cooking and your stomach growls. “What happened?” The red and white one snarls as the big, green alien heads deeper into the building and you hear him talking to someone, saying, “You came back.”

• “The Decepticons happened,” he says, attention sliding from Ratchet to you as you try to hide your face against him as if uneasy with the other’s curiosity. “It’s alright. They’re friends,” he adds, trying to reassure you as you glance up at him. Looking to him for protection and it spreads warm through his spark. Wants to be worthy of your trust, to be your protector to make up for endangering you to begin with. Shifting you against him, he introduces himself and his fellow Autobots, smiling when you softly offer your own name.

Previous

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 - 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Series summary: When Noah was left alone to take care of his daughter about two years ago, he never thought he would find someone else he would trust enough to include in his little family. But things can change.

Series masterlist

"Okay, recap moment," you began, sitting at a table in the café with Rick, Folio, and Grace, the sun beginning to set outside and filling the room with hues of red and orange.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, he’s wanted to win you back," Rick explained again after taking a slow sip from his coffee, his voice tinged with guilt. "And he asked for my help, because apparently I’m his only friend."

"So, the psycho has been trying to get your attention all this time," Folio interjected, "and when Noah left for a couple of days, he thought it was the perfect opportunity to do something that would drive a wedge between you two."

"So, he had you leave him," you pointed to Rick, "in front of Noah’s house after he got drunk, knowing that the next morning, Noah would find him there and think I'd cheated on him."

Rick lowered his eyes, unable to meet your gaze. "Yeah... that was exactly what he was hoping for. He knew Noah would be hurt, and he knew that would push him away from you."

"Noah didn’t want to listen to what you had to say because he thought what happened with Hannah was about to happen again. And now, he feels awful because he thinks it's his fault—like he can’t keep someone who loves him around," Folio continued.

"And you feel guilty because if you had realized Jason’s intentions sooner, maybe you could have stopped this from happening," Rick added, concluding the chain of events.

"Wow," Grace remarked. "I still have so many questions."

"Yeah, me too," Rick agreed. "Like, why are you even still here? You had nothing to do with any of this."

"Hey! I work here too, okay?" Grace shot back. "I have every right to stay as long as I want."

“So,” you turned to Folio, disregarding the bickering between the punk guy and your friend, or whoever Grace was to you, “what do you think I should do?”

"Go to him," Folio urged. "Talk things through. Please. I can’t keep watching him like this. I don’t think he’s showered in two weeks."

Grace wrinkled her nose.

"I'm sorry," Rick apologized. "If I hadn’t helped Jason, maybe none of this would have happened."

"Well, that’s how things played out," you replied. "And there’s no turning back."

"But things can still be fixed if you both put aside your fears and have a real conversation," Grace encouraged.

Folio leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening. "Exactly. It might not be easy, but if you want to fix things, this is where it starts."

"I’m not sure he wants to talk to me," you said, your voice uncertain as you stared down at the table, trying to sort through your swirling thoughts.

Grace looked at you, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. "Oh, please!" she exclaimed, leaning forward onto the table. "We know he loves you, and you love him. And it’s so obvious you both are suffering now! If you go to him and tell him everything was part of Jason’s plan, and that his weird friend here explained how things really went down, he’ll listen. I promise you!"

Rick shook his head, smirking but with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Hey, weird friend to who, Barbie with black hair?"

Grace just rolled her eyes.

Folio sighed, but his voice grew more serious. "Look, trust me. Go to him, tomorrow. It’s been two weeks, and he’s starting to realize he let you go just because he was too scared. You can’t just sit around waiting for him to make the first move because he won't. He's in a depressive mood right now."

A silence fell for a moment as you thought about their words. Folio's eyes were sincere, and for a brief second, it felt like there was still a chance to fix things. You took a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling over you.

Finally, you nodded. "Okay," you said softly, "I’ll do it."

After Grace and Folio left, you and Rick stood outside the café, the cool evening air pressing against you as the sunset faded into the night. The streets were quieter now, the hum of the city barely reaching you.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, his hands in his pockets as he avoided your gaze. "I… I’m sorry," he said finally, his voice low. "I know you probably hate me right now for helping Jason, for being his friend. I know what I did was wrong. But he was the only friend I ever had, you know? And I just... I always did what he asked, because I didn’t want to lose him. I thought if I kept helping him, I’d prove I was a good friend. But looking at it now, I see I was just blinded by that need to belong. I'm so fucking stupid."

You were silent for a moment, taking in what he said. It didn’t make you angry. Instead, a sense of understanding washed over you. You shook your head gently. "I’m not mad at you, Rick," you said softly. "I don’t think you’re a bad person. You just... you need better friends. Friends who aren’t going to pull you into things like this. Friends who won’t take advantage of your loyalty."

Rick’s shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted, but there was still a trace of guilt on his face. "I don’t deserve your forgiveness," he muttered.

"You don’t have to deserve it," you replied with a small smile. "People make mistakes. What matters is what we do after." You paused for a moment, thinking carefully about the next words you wanted to say. "You can come see me, us, at the café anytime. If you ever need to talk, or just... hang out. I'm sure Noah would like you too, you know? You punched Jason, after all."

He looked up at you, his eyes slightly wide, as if your words were a relief he hadn’t expected. "Thanks. Really. I know I messed up, but I’m done following Jason. I’ve made my choice."

You nodded. "I’m glad to hear that."

Rick smiled, though it was a little uncertain at first. "I’ll come by sometime."

As you both turned to leave, you gave Rick one last look. "Thanks again, Rick. Take care."

And with that, you parted ways, but not with the same weight on your shoulders you had carried earlier. Things could get better—for both of you.

Noah sat on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, trying his best to smile as he tickled Luna, her giggles filling the air. It was a soft sound, the kind of laughter that once brought him a sense of peace, but now it felt like a distant memory.

He tried to focus on her, on her innocent joy, but the weight of everything pressing on him still felt unbearable. He could hardly summon the energy to keep up with her playful energy.

"Daddy! Knights don’t tickle princesses!” she said, holding up a finger as if to emphasize her point as she laughed.

"Oh really? So why am I doing that now?"

"Because you are a bad knight, daddy!"

Noah let go and finally dropped his hands to his sides, letting the kid breathe.

Luna, her tiny hands gripping his arm as she attempted to climb onto his lap, paused for a moment and looked at him with her big, innocent eyes. She tilted her head to one side, sensing that something was off. "Daddy," she said in her small, soft voice, "will Y/N come today?"

The question hit Noah like a punch to the stomach. He froze for a second, trying to think, his chest tightening as his mind raced for an answer. How could he explain this to her? How could he possibly tell his three-year-old daughter that the woman who had been a constant presence in their lives, the woman he had loved, was gone and might never return?

He forced a smile as he moved some strands of hair from her little chubby face, but it felt hollow. "No, sweetie," he said softly, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. "Y/N won't be coming here for a while."

Luna’s face fell for a moment, and Noah’s heart twisted at the sight. She didn’t understand, not fully. But she could already feel the absence. She blinked and then asked, her voice so innocent and hopeful, "Oh, is she on vacation?"

Noah nodded slowly, trying to hold it together. He swallowed hard, not knowing what else to say. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "She’s on vacation."

Luna seemed to accept that answer, her small face brightening again, and Noah couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Was he lying to her? He didn’t know. But he couldn’t tell her the truth. Not yet. Not when he was still trying to figure it all out himself.

“Oh,” Luna said, her voice soft and wistful. “I wish I could go with her. I want to see the mountains with Y/N.”

Noah’s heart broke a little more as she spoke, the simple, innocent wish from his daughter ringing in his ears.

He looked down at her, her eyes filled with that pure, untainted hope, and he could feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wished things were different, wished he could turn back time and make the mess he had created disappear. But all he could do now was nod, his voice filled with emotion as he replied, “Yeah… me too.”

His gaze fell on the beaded bracelet on his wrist, the bracelet Luna had made with you. She seemed so happy when she gave it to him, saying that you and she had one similar too that Noah couldn't say no. He wondered where you put yours. If it was lying forgotten at the bottom of a trash can or if he was on your wrist too and if you were thinking about him like he was thinking about you looking at it.

The pink was an extreme contrast to his tattoos in a way that made him smile and made his skin burn at the same time.

Luna didn’t seem to sense the weight of his words. Instead, she smiled brightly, her small hands gripping his shirt as she pulled herself closer to him. “Maybe when Y/N comes back, we can all go to the mountains together, Daddy. And see bears.”

Noah’s throat tightened, and he could barely choke out a laugh. "Maybe," he said quietly, his voice breaking just a little. “Maybe we can.”

That late evening, you were at home, the wind outside picking up, howling against the windows.

But then, through the noise, you heard something else—faint, almost drowned out by the gusts of wind. It was a soft whimpering sound. You froze, wondering if you’d imagined it. Another sound followed, louder this time, and it was unmistakable.

You quickly made your way to the door, heart racing. Was someone out there? You opened the door cautiously. The wind whipped around you, but you could make out something small huddling near the porch steps.

A tiny, scruffy ball of fur, sat there looking up at you. You bent down, your breath catching in your throat. A small puppy—probably only a few months old—was staring up at you with big, wide eyes, the color of dark amber. The fur on its body was matted and dirty, but you could tell that, despite its appearance, it wasn’t in horrible condition. It was skinny, too, ribs showing a bit too much through its dirty fur but it didn’t seem too malnourished.

You crouched down, reaching out cautiously, speaking in a soft voice, “Hey there, little one… where did you come from?” The puppy didn’t flinch, but tilted its head at you, studying you curiously, its little tail flicking.

“Do you have a home?” you asked again, more gently this time, hoping it could understand. It just stared at you, unblinking, before it started to shuffle forward, its paws making soft noises on the porch.

“Well, I guess you don’t have a place to go, do you?” you sighed, your heart already melting at the sight of the poor thing. The puppy continued its advance, slowly squeezing between your legs and making its way into the house. You blinked, surprised, but then a soft laugh escaped you.

“Okay, I guess you've already decided where you're going to stay,” you said with a smile, closing the door behind you. You watched the little creature wander inside.

You paused for a moment, your mind spinning with what to do next. You glanced around the small space, eyes landing on the kitchen. Your fridge. Maybe there was something you could feed it.

Opening the fridge, you found some leftover chicken, cooked and ready to go. Without hesitation, you grabbed it, placing it down on a plate for the pup. You watched as the little dog immediately pounced on the food, devouring it in a matter of seconds, the sound of its chewing filling in the silence of the house.

As the dog finished, you crouched down beside it, rubbing its back, and you finally understood the puppy was a male. “What now, little one? You just going to stay here with me?” you asked, your voice soft.

The dog responded with a loud, excited bark, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped up in front of you, as if to say “Yes, please!”

You chuckled lightly. “Guess that’s a yes,” you smiled, patting the puppy’s head.

“Alright then, you can stay with me for now.”

Without thinking twice, you picked the little thing up, holding him carefully in your arms as you carried him toward the bathroom.

You turned on the tap, filling the bathtub with warm water, and carefully set the puppy down.

You took your time, softly scrubbing the dirt out of his brown and black fur.

Just as you were finishing up, the puppy suddenly shook his body, spraying water everywhere. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, the tiny creature soaking your clothes and the bathroom floor, but you didn’t mind. The laugh felt good, like a release, like a bit of normalcy in the chaos that had surrounded you lately.

“You really know how to make a mess, huh?” you said, wiping your face with the back of your hand as the dog looked up at you, his fur dripping wet and his expression utterly adorable.

After a few more moments, you helped the puppy out of the tub and wrapped it in a towel, rubbing it gently to dry it off. He seemed to enjoy the attention, snuggling into the towel as if it had finally found a safe place. You sat on the floor with him for some moments.

Then, you looked down at the tiny creature, now dry and warm, curled up on the towel beside you, his little eyes closing in contentment. “You're a good boy,” you said softly, smiling as the puppy let out a quiet yawn.

That night, he whined until you picked him up and let him sleep in the bed with you, his body pressed close to yours, keeping you almost as warm as Noah's had.

The next morning, before going to the café, you left enough food and water around for the dog before heading out, promising to think of a suitable name for him.

When you were at work, it had started raining, and when you stepped out of the coffee shop during the afternoon, it hadn't stopped yet.

The cold rain immediately soaked through your clothes as you reached your car.

The city streets were slick with water, and the dull hum of distant thunder echoed in the sky, but you barely noticed. Your mind was consumed with the need to reach Noah. You had to. You had already waited too much.

You got in, slammed the door, and turned the key. Nothing. You tried again. And again. The engine sputtered but refused to start, the engine light flashing mockingly at you in the dark interior. Your heart sank. You cursed under your breath and tried once more, but the car just refused to cooperate. It was as if the universe itself had decided that this was not the night for you to see Noah, that fate was conspiring against you, and all the progress you'd just made would come crashing down.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered, staring helplessly at the wheel. Frustration surged inside you, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. The rain was pouring harder now, and everything felt like it was falling apart.

But then, in that moment of frustration, something shifted inside you. You wiped your damp face with the back of your hand and exhaled, steadying yourself. This wasn’t the end, not yet. You weren’t going to give up this easily.

Noah was waiting for you. Even if maybe he didn’t know that. You couldn’t afford to let something as trivial as a car breaking down stop you.

"Fine," you whispered to yourself, the determination in your voice solidifying. "I’ll walk."

Without another thought, you opened the door, slammed it shut, and stepped back out into the pouring rain. The streets blurred with each step you took, your soaked clothes clinging to you as you began your journey toward Noah, your mind set on one thing: You needed to see him.

The rain was hitting the ground in heavy, unrelenting sheets, turning the streets into rivers when you reached Noah's house. The sound of it pounded against your ears, drowning out everything else. You stood there, drenched to the bone, the cold water soaking through your coat and clothes, your hair was wet, dripping down and sending a chill through your neck, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to Noah.

Nothing mattered except Noah.

The cold air pressed against your skin, your heart pounded in your chest, thoughts spinning.

You reached the front door, the familiar house looming before you, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t feel like home anymore. Not when everything had been shattered, and the quiet that hung between you two was almost suffocating.

Finally, you pressed the doorbell, the sound of it echoing louder in the still night than you had anticipated. The seconds felt like hours, and then, the door creaked open.

There he was, standing in the doorway, but he wasn’t the same Noah. His eyes were tired, bloodshot from lack of sleep, and his face was drawn. The person you had known—the one who laughed with you late at night, the one who made you feel safe—felt distant now, a ghost of the man you had loved.

He looked at you, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence as the rain kept pouring all around you. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t even move. You couldn't read him, it was like he was trying to keep you at arm’s length, afraid that if you got too close, you might shatter him further.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words felt like they were stuck in your throat. What could you even say? How could you explain what had happened, explain how everything had fallen apart because of one man's manipulation? You knew this was your fault, too.

“Noah,” you said, voice shaky as you finally met his gaze. “I... I need to talk to you. Please.”

His expression remained overall hard, a wall that you couldn’t break through, not yet. He looked down for a moment, his jaw tightening, as if he was fighting the urge to turn away from you.

But when he looked at you, his eyes were soft, as if despite everything he couldn't look at you with anger.

"What?" he muttered, his voice strained, as if a single word was causing him physical pain.

You took a deep breath.

"Ever since Jason came back to town, I—I didn’t see it. I didn’t want to see it. I thought that chapter was closed, that he was a thing of the past, that I was done with him. And I was. Because I love you and I'll always love you and only you. But he wasn’t done with me. I should’ve known. And I... I was too fucking stupid to realize he never wanted to let me go. Not really. He wanted to win me back, to tear us apart, and I was blind to it."

He just stared at you, so you kept talking. Seeing him like that was absolutely breaking you.

"He asked Rick for help, a friend of his that understood he was doing something wrong and talked to me. And Rick, he... he just wanted to be a good friend. He didn’t understand. But Jason—he used Rick, manipulated him, got him to leave him drunk in front of your house, knowing that I would let him in because I am too fucking srupid and too fucking nice. He knew that you’d think I cheated on you. Knowing that you’d be hurt, that you'd doubt me, that it would rip us apart. He had everything planned. And I—I let it happen. I didn’t even see it coming. I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late, until I saw the way you looked at me like I let you down like your ex. And I've never wanted that.

And now... now I’m standing here, soaked to the skin because I always forget to bring an umbrella with me and because I care about you, trying to find the right words, but there’s no easy way to explain this. No way to take back the pain I caused you. No way to undo what Jason did. But I need you to know this... I love you. More than anything. More than I ever thought I could love someone.

And I’m so fucking sorry for the mess I’ve made and for letting Jason ruin everything. I’m so sorry I didn’t see what Jason was doing. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner that I was losing you, that I was pushing you away when all I’ve ever wanted is to be with you.

I love you more than I ever knew how to say. I love you more than anything. And I need you to know that, to believe that, because it’s the truth. You’re the only thing that matters to me and I miss you. And I miss Luna. And I miss the family we built. The three of us. And if you can find it in your heart to forgive me... I swear, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. But please, Noah, don’t let me lose you. Not like this. Not because of an asshole who thought he had power on someone else's love."

After you finished confessing, Noah looked at you with a mix of confusion and concern for a moment, his brow furrowing as his gaze flickered over your drenched form. "Why are you completely soaked?"

You couldn't help but smile softly, a little amusement tugging at the corner of your lips, despite the moment. "My car wouldn’t start," you replied, trying to sound lighthearted, almost as if it was a silly inconvenience. "So I walked."

Before you could say anything more, Noah’s expression softened even more, and without another word, he stepped forward in the rain. His lips found yours with a sudden intensity, and it was like everything else melted away. You smiled against his mouth, the taste of him so sweet, so right, that it felt like you could stay in this moment forever.

You had longed for the sensation of his lips on yours, the warmth of his tongue dancing with yours, and the comfort of his arms wrapped around you for days.

His hair clung to his forehead as the rain soaked him through, and without thinking, you reached up to brush it aside, your fingers grazing the damp strands as you continued to kiss him, your hearts racing in sync. It was perfect. It was real. The kiss lingered, deepening, as if neither of you wanted it to end, until the air between you both ran out and you both pulled back, gasping for breath.

Noah’s hands were still on your hips, pushing you close to him.

His voice was low and vulnerable as he whispered against your lips, "I’ve dreamed of this moment for fifteen nights. I thought you hated me..I'm sorry I told you to leave. I was scared to lose you and so fucking jealous. I've never wanted you to leave. I love you.

I loved you from the first moment I walked into the café with Luna barely able to speak, when she raised her little hand to say hi. She didn't do it with anyone. But she did it with you. Maybe she also understood at that moment that you were going to be the most important person in both our lives."

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth flooding back into your chest at the sound of his words. "I’ve walked in the rain for forty minutes for you," you murmured, your voice soft but full of certainty. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all."

He chuckled, the sound of it wrapping around you like a warm blanket. God, you'd missed that sound so bad. "I’d say I don’t hate you at all either," he replied, a grin tugging at his lips, and then he kissed you again, softer this time, as if savoring every second, every drop of rain falling around you both.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

TBAF Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @clickmedead @whenyouwannafindlove @kenjipepsi1

[swingandadrive]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ green to silver

⊳ fernando alonso x f! reader | lewis hamilton x f! reader

⊳ fluff angst | age gap

⊳ summary: sometimes letting go is for the best

⊳ words: 836

You loved..love Fernando, you really do. It was weird, to feel that love slowly form into hate.

You knew hate could turn into love, but love to hate? That was something unexplainable.

Actually, you could explain very bluntly. Fernando stopped caring. He stopped loving.

“Y/n, princess..I promise you this weekend will be all yours, I’m sorry” He’d say as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then disappear for the rest of the night.

You didn’t know what had gone wrong, or why it had happened. You hated being called princess, yet he still called you it.

“Listen Y/n, I’m busy with work..I’m not performing as well, I'm stressed and have other things going on!” Fernando yells, hands going up as he tries to get his point across, again.

It was repetitive. It was the same cycle.

You look at him, a frown on your face as you cried- you knew. You always knew. Deep down you knew he’d never be enough for you, his words- his promises, the “I’m sorry” or “I’ll try harder” meant nothing.

“You just aren’t my top priority right now..” He’d remind you again.

For whatever reason you stayed, you weren’t sure why. You’d cry yourself to sleep more nights than you’d admit, always asking yourself what you saw in him and why you were staying.

After three years, you’d expect to be treated better.

“Listen- amor you need to stop treating our relationship like a marriage, we aren’t married” Fernando says, wiping a tear from your face.

You knew what he meant, but did you really? It always felt twisted when he said those words.

Almost like your relationship truly didn’t mean that much to him.

“Hey love, how are you doing?” Lewis says, giving you a side hug, smiling gently at you.

You knew Lewis, you’ve known Lewis for a little longer than you knew of Fernando- Lewis is the reason you two got together.

Now Lewis had always been kind to you, maybe too kind. You knew Lewis was an attractive individual, he’d shown interest in you.

You’d never admit it but you’d think of him softly from time to time.

“I’m alright, just tired is all” You say with a soft smile, eyes fighting the urge to close and stay closed.

You spent another night in an argument with Fernando.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is! It’s truly not that serious amor!” Fernando says, back to you.

“It’s serious to me Nando! It matters to me, I just need you to understand that..” You say, reaching out towards him.

Being ten years younger than him had always been in the back of your mind, personally you would say you weren’t insecure about it, but it definitely weighed you down.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s okay, Y/n” He says with a sigh, turning to face you and place a kiss on your lips.

I’m sorry.

How many times have you heard that? To you an apology was null and void without change.

“I think we should take a break- I..I want this break” Fernando says, it was the first thing he said to you after he returned from a Grand Prix.

You sit in bed, mind trying to wrap around at what he was saying. A break? Why the fuck would he want a break if he loves you.

“But- but what about what I want? I don’t get it Fernando” You say, tears starting to slip. You didn’t deserve this, you were amazing to him.

“I need to focus on what I want, I have other priorities right now” He says, sitting down next to you on your bed.

So what you wanted didn’t matter? In a relationship with two people, what you wanted didn’t matter?

That doesn’t make sense.

“I still want to be together, I still want you in my life..I just need a break”

Oh.

“So what? All of the moments were for nothing?” You whisper out, not being able to talk above a whisper without falling into tears.

“I don’t know”

You sit there, mind rushing as you try to collect yourself.

It confused you, because first of all you’re both adults, was this simply just immaturity on his part?

It had been two weeks, message after message had been sent to Fernando’s screen, and you hadn’t got any response.

So you officially broke it off, he wanted to stay loyal, to wait it out.

But how could you when Lewis was standing right there?

He wrapped his arms around you, holding onto you as you cried and mumbled out nonsense into his chest.

“It’s alright, love…you’ll be okay” He whispered into your hair, pressing a kiss to your head.

You grip onto Lewis’s hand as you both walk into the Britain GP, sunglasses on and head down as you hear the multiple cameras go off.

You knew there would be posts, articles and pictures everywhere.

Y/n L/n and Fernando Alonso broke up, and not only that, she got with Lewis Hamilton.

Instagram

y/n.l/n

Liked by fernandoalo_oficial and others

y/n.l/n recently…

Comments on this post have been limited

lewishamilton: ❤️❤️❤️

y/n.l/n: ❤️❤️

carmenmmundt: so great to see you again!! 💛

y/n.l/n: you as well carmen! ❤️

lando: come to mclaren

y/n.l/n: no

lewishamilton: not a chance mate

lando: no fun

chloestroll: miss you ☹️

y/n.l/n: awh miss you too 🫶🥹

user7492 bro she is such a bop like what

user0183 nando is way better

user47399 i don’t think she gaf 😭

user0183 well she should

user93702 ew she should start dating someone her age, what a gold digger tf

user5378 her and nando seemed off at previous GPs I wonder what happened

user6363 she prob cheated let’s be real 😭

alexandrasaintmleux: can’t wait to see more of you ❤️

y/n.l/n: so excited!! ily so much 🫶

user3929 why do so many of you judge her 😭 like you don’t even know her 😭

Liked by author

You stifle a sob as you wipe the tears from your phone screen, letting the message from Fernando go unread.

Why couldn’t someone see it from your perspective? Why could no one try to understand, or just try.

You would never be happy, would you?

⊳ I needed to write something angst so this is that! I hope it was a good read. It was a short write but a fun one!! please leave any comments or requests!!

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

How about a little of fluffy, huh?

Enjoy it <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Summary: you find out about your version and Wanda in another universe.

Hey! Now I've a masterlist

SIGHTS

As you walked back to the camp, water droplets slid down your skin, the night breeze bringing a slight shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. Your mind was in turmoil, recalling Wanda's little show by the lake. The trees seemed quieter, as if even nature was trying to absorb what had just happened.

"Did you really have to do that in front of everyone?" you asked, breaking the silence, but your voice came out hesitant, almost shy.

Wanda glanced at you sideways, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "And what exactly did I do?"

"Oh, come on, Wanda," you said, exasperated. "Lifting that guy into the air, threatening to erase them all from the multiverse? That’s not exactly... educational."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised. “What are you talking about? I was perfectly reasonable, if you want to know,” she said, her tone bordering on cynical, as if her threat to erase people from existence was something ordinary and completely justifiable.

"Reasonable?!" you repeated, your voice a bit louder than you intended. "You almost gave the poor guy a heart attack! He’ll never look at a campfire again without remembering you."

Wanda stopped walking, turning to face you with an expression that was both amused and exasperated. "He should be grateful," she retorted, as if explaining something obvious. "If I wanted to, he wouldn’t even remember what a campfire is."

"Oh my god! You’re impossible!" You crossed your arms, trying to look firm, but the way she was looking at you— that mix of unwavering authority and irresistible charm—made your heart race. "You know that’s not the point, right?"

She took a step closer, tilting her head slightly. "And what’s the point, then, dorogaya? That I should have let that bunch of filthy teenagers disrespecting nature go unpunished? I have principles, sweetheart! And none of them can see you like this except for me."

"I’m not talking about me," you replied, but your tone lost strength at the end of the sentence, because deep down, you knew there was something comforting—and, in a way, exciting—about the fact that she had defended you so fiercely.

"Oh, but I am," Wanda murmured, the intensity in her eyes making you feel as though the ground had disappeared beneath your feet. "No one will desire you in my presence. No one will even dare to think about you, and read my lips when I say, darling: I will know what they’re thinking. I always do."

You exhaled heavily, but tried to hide your smile at your witch’s over-the-top monologue. "Wanda… please."

Wanda turned to you, crossing her arms as she tilted her head. "Are you... worried about them?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but she just made a hand gesture.

"Happy?" she asked casually, beginning to walk again as if nothing had happened.

You furrowed your brow, quickening your pace to catch up with her. "What do you mean? What did you do?"

Without even looking at you, Wanda gave a small, satisfied smile. "They’ve forgotten everything, dorogaya."

Your eyes widened. "What do you mean 'forgotten everything'? Did you mess with their minds?"

She shrugged, fingers playing with a strand of her own hair. "Just enough to make sure no one will remember my ‘little show,’ as you call it."

You stared at her, a mixture of fascination and unease growing inside you. "You can do that? Alter memories?"

"I can do many things," Wanda replied, finally stopping and turning to face you. She seemed slightly amused, as if relishing your curiosity.

"Like what?" you asked, unable to contain the question.

Wanda leaned slightly toward you, her eyes shining with that characteristic mix of mystery and power. "Ah, milaya moya," she murmured, her voice low and enticing. "If I told you everything I can do, you wouldn’t sleep for weeks."

A shiver ran down your spine, but you couldn’t help but smile. "Is that a promise or a warning?"

"Both," she replied, laughing softly before continuing to walk.

Unable to resist, you hurried to walk beside her. "You really are something, Miss Maximoff."

Wanda stopped abruptly, making you almost stumble in your hurry to keep up with her. She turned to face you, an expression that wavered between surprise and amusement. "Something?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow as a smile danced on her lips.

"Yes, something," you reaffirmed, crossing your arms with an unexpected touch of boldness. "A force of nature, maybe. Or maybe a goddess with a heroine complex. But definitely something."

Wanda’s eyes sparkled, and you realized there was something more there. It wasn’t just amusement. It was admiration. Fascination. As if she was seeing something in you that intrigued her as much as you were intrigued by her.

"You’re bold," Wanda said, her voice soft but tinged with provocation. "Do you know what happens to people who challenge a goddess?"

"I have no idea," you replied, shrugging. "Maybe you should show me."

Wanda tilted her head, a dangerous yet charming smile forming. "You really want to know what I’m capable of, don’t you?"

"I do," you replied, firm, though your heart was pounding like a drum. "I want to know what makes you the woman you are. I want to see everything you can do. Because, if I’m going to be by your side, I need to understand... you."

For a moment, Wanda was silent, just watching you. Then, she stepped forward, closing the gap between you. Her fingers lifted to trace a slow path along your face, as if deciding how far she would take you on this journey.

"You have no idea what you’re asking for, dorogaya," she murmured, her voice like honey dripping. "My power isn’t just strength or control. It’s chaos. It’s destruction. It’s everything you fear and desire at the same time."

"Then show me," you insisted, your voice almost inaudible, but filled with determination. "If that’s what you are, I want to see it. All of it."

Wanda smiled, but this time, there was something deeper there—maybe a touch of respect. "You’re brave. So brave, lyubimaya. But be careful what you wish for."

She extended her hand to you, her eyes glowing with a deep red intensity. "Come with me. And I’ll show you what I’m made of."

You hesitated for a second, but just enough for Wanda to intertwine her fingers with yours, pulling you with her. "Hold on," she said, her lips curling into a smile that was as terrifying as it was beautiful. "You asked for this."

And then, with an almost imperceptible snap, the world around you began to change.

Wanda guided you with a firm yet strange touch through the veil between worlds. Reality around you unraveled in a tangle of colors and shapes, as if every line that composed the fabric of the universe was being unfolded before you. The air seemed to vibrate, charged with something incomprehensible—a raw, terrifying power.

"Welcome to the Multiverse, dorogaya," Wanda said, her voice soft as a whisper, but filled with an authority that made you shiver. "Get ready, because there’s no turning back."

Before you could respond, the first vision took shape.

The room seemed like it was from a dream. White, smooth, and flawless walls reflected the soft light streaming through large windows. Outside, there was a perfect garden, with well-manicured lawns and flowers of all colors. The house was a reflection of what Wanda seemed to believe was an ideal life: simple, cozy, and full of love.

Wanda was barefoot, wearing a light red dress that swayed with her movement. Her hair was loose, and she appeared... ordinary, but in an almost supernatural way. In her arms, a chubby, smiling baby played with strands of her hair as she looked at him with a tenderness so intense it almost broke your heart.

Vision stood beside her, smiling in a way you didn’t think possible for someone made of vibranium. He looked so human there, so... present. With one hand, he caressed Wanda’s face, and with the other, he held a small music box that played a soft melody in the background.

“This was my utopia,” Wanda began, without looking directly at you. Her eyes were fixed on the scene, as if she were immersed in the memory. “A perfect creation for a perfect life. A home where I could have everything the real world denied me.”

You realized the setting seemed like a reflection of an ideal from the 1950s or 60s — a perfect suburban life, almost like a magazine advertisement. Yet, the longer you looked, the more artificial everything seemed. The flowers in the garden had no scent. The sunlight didn’t warm. And suddenly, you realized there were no sounds from the outside.

“It was an illusion, of course,” Wanda continued, with a hint of melancholy. “But for a while... I wanted to believe it was real. I needed to believe. I did this for Vision. For myself. For my children.”

The scene abruptly changed. Now, the same room was dark, almost in ruins. The baby in Wanda’s arms had vanished. Vision was lying on the floor, lifeless, with a hole in his chest where the Mind Stone should have been. Wanda was kneeling, her hands stained with blood, her eyes fixed on the void.

“That’s when I realized,” she said, her voice faltering slightly. “None of this was mine. I was living a lie. And the truth... the truth was more cruel than any illusion I could create.”

You wanted to say something, but the words felt stuck in your throat. Everything around you screamed of pain, loss, and despair.

“I tried so hard,” Wanda whispered, more to herself than to you. “I tried to be good, I tried to be strong. But the more I lost, the more I became... this.”

You glanced at the woman, seeing tears held back in her large green eyes. Why doesn’t Wanda cry? Why does she keep everything to herself? These are questions you would like to understand and deconstruct with every reason she gives you.

This version of Wanda was a whirlwind of emotions, chaos personified. You saw her in different moments, different worlds, all versions converging on the same point: Vision. He was the center of her universe, and Wanda did the impossible to bring him back — to recreate the love she believed was her only anchor.

In the first scene, she was kneeling in a cold, metallic room, holding Vision’s lifeless body. It was a version of him without glow, without movement. The pale light reflected on her face, bathed in tears that flowed uncontrollably. Wanda murmured softly, almost inaudible, like a desperate prayer: "Please, come back to me. Please..."

You could feel the urgency in her voice, the kind of desperation that defies reason. She tried using her magic, her hands trembling as a scarlet glow surrounded Vision’s body. But it was futile. He wouldn’t return.

"I refused to accept death," Wanda explained, her voice low, as if confessing a terrible secret. "I thought I could deceive fate. That, if I wanted it enough, I could bring him back."

The scene abruptly shifted, and now you saw her in another world, facing a legion of colossal beings, each one more threatening than the last. They seemed to be guarding something — maybe an artifact or a secret she wanted. Wanda was at the center of the battle, her powers turning the ground into lava, the sky into darkness.

"I destroyed entire worlds," she continued, her eyes fixed on the scene. "I fought against those who tried to stop me, against those who said I was wrong. I didn’t care. I would do anything to bring him back."

You saw another Wanda, this time creating an entire world. She stood with her arms raised as houses rose from the ground, people took form out of nowhere, and a perfect blue sky stretched above everyone. At the center of this world was Vision, smiling, alive, as if nothing had happened.

"I created entire realities," Wanda said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "But none of them were real. He... wasn’t real."

The last scene was the most devastating. Wanda was alone, watching a version of Vision disappear before her eyes. He touched her face one last time before fading into dust, and she remained motionless, as if there was no more strength left in her to react.

"For so long," Wanda said, her eyes filled with a pain that seemed endless, "I thought love was sacrifice. That everything worth having had to be earned with pain. But I was wrong."

She turned to you, the intensity in her eyes as crushing as everything you had just witnessed. "Love shouldn’t be this, right? It shouldn’t be pain, or loss, or despair. But it was all I knew."

You felt your heart tighten. You wanted to touch her, comfort her, but it seemed too small in comparison to everything she had faced.

"You showed me something different," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "Something I never thought I deserved. You showed me that love can be... healing."

This time, the air was thick with tension as you entered that ruined house, used as a temporary refuge by Wanda Maximoff. The walls were cracked, and the smell of dust mixed with something else: magic, raw and pulsing, like a storm about to explode. The organization that had sent you knew she was dangerous, but you weren’t there as an agent or a heroine. You were there as a social worker, someone who had worked with people who had lost everything — and Wanda Maximoff was exactly that.

She was sitting in the darkest corner of the room, her eyes glowing with an unsettling scarlet hue. There was no apparent pain or mourning on her face; just a dangerous emptiness, the kind that swallows worlds.

"Leave," was the first thing she said, not even looking at you directly.

You didn’t leave.

"I just want to talk," you said, keeping your voice calm, even though your heart was pounding like a drum. "Nothing more."

Wanda laughed — a dry, bitter laugh, without joy. "Talk? Is that what they call interrogation now?" She finally raised her eyes to meet yours, and the weight of her gaze was almost physical. "I don’t need your pity."

"It’s not pity," you replied, not backing down. "It’s... concern."

Suddenly, the air around her shifted. It was as if an invisible hand was trying to grab you, crush you. Wanda raised her hand, and you saw the scarlet threads of her magic dance around her like serpents ready to strike.

"Do you think you can help me?" she whispered, her voice laced with sarcasm and something deeper: pain. "Do you think you can come in here and fix everything with your sweet words? I could end you before you even finish that sentence."

But she couldn’t.

The magic around her shattered like glass, vanishing into the air before it could touch you. Wanda’s expression transformed into something you would never forget: surprise. She tried again, raising both hands, muttering words in an ancient tongue, but nothing happened.

"Who are you?" she asked, standing slowly, her eyes fixed on you like a predator finding something unusual.

"My name is Y/n. I’m a social worker." You took a deep breath, trying to seem calmer than you felt. "And I think you need help."

"You idiot! Who sent you? Are you a witch? How do you know how to manipulate my magic?" she shot angrily.

Your hands were sweating, and you felt a strong urge to rush to the bathroom — but something completely insane inside you told you that you needed to stay.

You took a hesitant step forward, keeping your hands visible at your sides. It was like facing a wild animal, where every movement needed to be calculated.

"I’m not a witch, and no one sent me," you said, your voice calm but firm. "I’m just a social worker. And I’m here because you’re hurt."

Wanda laughed, but it was an empty, bitter sound. "Hurt?" she repeated, taking a step toward you. "You think you can help me? I’m the Scarlet Witch. I don’t need help from anyone, especially not from a... social worker."

"Maybe you don’t need it," you replied, trying to ignore the heat at the back of your neck and the trembling in your legs. "But maybe you want it."

Her face hardened, and for a moment, you thought you had made a fatal mistake. But then something changed. Her eyes lost some of their intensity, as if your words had touched a part of Wanda she was desperately trying to hide.

"Why aren’t you afraid of me?" she asked, tilting her head. "Everyone is. I can feel fear in people. But in you... there’s nothing."

You hesitated, searching for the right words. "Maybe it’s because I see beyond that," you said, taking another step. "I see someone who is hurt, who’s lost so much, but who is still here. Still fighting."

"You don’t know anything about me," she murmured, but her voice was quieter now, almost unsure.

"Then tell me," you responded softly. "Let me get to know you, Wanda."

There was a long silence. She watched you as if trying to decide whether you were real or just another broken piece in her world. Finally, Wanda sighed and turned her back, crossing her arms.

"You’re stubborn," she said, not looking at you.

"I hear that often," you replied, trying not to smile.

She chuckled softly, but it wasn’t a cruel sound this time. When she finally turned to you, there was something different in her eyes. Something more human, more vulnerable.

"If you’re going to stay, then stay. But don’t expect me to trust you anytime soon," she said, pointing to a worn-out sofa in the corner of the room.

"I don’t expect," you replied, carefully sitting down. "So, you can’t kill me with your red power balls, nor read my mind. What’s that supposed to mean?"

Wanda let out a disbelieving laugh, actually incredulous. Red power balls? She thought with a roll of her eyes.

"I don’t know." It was a low murmur.

"Maybe a sign that you should give me a chance…" You said with your shoulders shrugged and a sheepish smile on the corner of your lips.

Wanda could never have imagined that you would keep coming back, again, and again, and again — in fact, neither could you. A not-so-friendly conversation and death threats turned into a tea afternoon where Wanda told you about life in the Avengers before everything; then a lunch on the beach where you told her about how you almost drowned when you were 9 — that day, you saw the most genuine smile she could give you given her current conditions, and you felt your heart beat differently for the redhead. Then a dinner at your place — where you learned to make paprikash just to see her smile and complain that the dish lacked pepper — with wine, where Wanda cried missing her boys, and you were officially classified by her as: "the best shoulder I’ve ever cried on, and believe me, I never cry."

Wanda hadn’t realized how important your presence had become in her life, not until you needed to travel for an important case. She missed you, and that confused her. After all, how could a visit so unpleasant and peculiar make her want... for it to be daily? That you would visit her every day and bring the cinnamon rolls from that bakery on your street that she loved so much. That you would learn more Sokovian recipes just to make her smile.

Then the kiss happened in one of those moments of silence, when words were no longer necessary. You were sitting next to her, watching the sunset through the broken window of the house she called her temporary home. The sky was tinged with shades of orange and red, as if the universe itself was painting a canvas just for the two of you.

Wanda seemed calmer that day. Her shoulders weren’t as tense, and the eyes that always seemed to hold storms had a soft, almost peaceful glow. She suddenly looked at you, and there was something in her expression that made the air feel thicker.

"Why do you stay?" she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper.

"Because I want to," you replied, without hesitation.

She tilted her head, as if trying to understand something that didn't make sense to her. "You're strange," she murmured, but there was a small, almost imperceptible smile on her lips.

"I prefer 'unique,'" you responded, teasing, though your voice trembled a little.

Then, before you could say anything more, she leaned toward you. It was a hesitant movement, as if testing the waters, but when her lips finally met yours, everything else disappeared.

The kiss was everything both of you had imagined it would be — and more. It was soft, but filled with emotion, as if Wanda was pouring everything she couldn't say in words into that moment. You felt her hand move to your face, her fingers tracing your jawline with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of the kiss.

When you pulled away, she looked at you with something new in her eyes: hope. "You're not like anyone I've ever met," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Neither are you," you replied, smiling.

Months later, after your wedding in the Russian summer, when Wanda told you she was pregnant, the smile on her face was so wide it seemed to light up the entire room. You were sitting on the couch of your new home, a place you had chosen together, far from the chaos and painful memories of the past.

"I can hardly believe it," she said, placing her hands on her still-flat belly, but with eyes shining with genuine happiness. "After everything... after everything that happened, I never thought I would have this."

You held her hand, squeezing it gently. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, Wanda. And these babies already have the best mother they could ask for."

The following months were a mix of nerves and joy. You had never seen Wanda so happy. She decorated the twins' room with soft colors, but couldn't resist using a bit of magic to create constellations shining on the ceiling.

"I want them to grow up knowing that the entire universe is within their reach," she explained, smiling at you as she adjusted the details with a wave of her hand.

The day Tommy and Billy were born, Wanda cried. Tears of genuine happiness, as she held the two little ones in her arms. You were beside her, holding her hand, unable to hold back your own tears.

"I never thought I could be this happy," she whispered, looking at you.

"You deserve this, my love," you replied, kissing her forehead.

Exactly seven years later, when Wanda and you were waiting for the pregnancy test to be ready, this time for Seline, Wanda could hardly believe it. It was as if the universe was finally giving back to her everything it had taken before.

Wanda looked at you that day with the same gaze she had in your first kiss — full of love and hope. "You gave me this," she said, placing her hand on your belly, moved by feeling the baby's heartbeat against your skin. "You gave me everything I thought I could never have."

You laughed, wiping away a tear that escaped. "That's not how it works, Wanda. We did this together."

During Seline's pregnancy, Wanda seemed even more radiant than before. She spent hours reading storybooks to the twins, and often you would wake up in the night to find her caressing your belly, softly murmuring in Sokovian.

When Seline was born, you knew your family was complete.

"She's so perfect," Wanda said, with a soft smile as she held the little one in her arms.

"She has your eyes," you replied, feeling a wave of love flood your chest.

And in that moment, as you looked at Wanda and the three children you had brought into the world together, you knew that everything you had been through — all the pain, all the sacrifice — had been worth it.

The path back to the camp seemed almost irrelevant in the face of the intensity that was growing between you. Each step you took on the trail was an extension of what you had shared in that intimate moment, when Wanda had opened a piece of her soul to you. The words she had spoken echoed in your mind, but it wasn’t the words that mattered at that moment — it was the feeling.

You felt a mix of adoration and a deep desire for her, and Wanda seemed to understand this as clearly as you did. But there was something more, an urgency in both of you, as if fate had brought you together once again for another dance, this time with immeasurable depth.

"You asked me to show what I’m capable of," Wanda said, breaking the silence between you. Her voice was soft, but there was something threatening in the way she spoke, something that could only come from a woman who knew the power she possessed, yet remained vulnerable. "Do you still want to love me after all of this?"

She turned her face to you, and her eyes were shining with a mixture of insecurity and provocation. The silence between you seemed to carry centuries of repressed desire, of lost and found loves, as if you both were made for this moment, but had lived countless lives and universes before finally being here, together.

You didn’t hesitate. Your hands rose to Wanda’s face, touching her gently, as if you feared she might disappear at any moment. But she didn’t disappear. She was there. And you, without words, simply looked into her eyes, trying to convey all the love and certainty you felt.

"I want to love you because of all of this," you said, your voice firm, but heavy with something more — a promise, an oath made with heart and soul.

When your eyes met, the distance between you vanished, as if the entire universe had been reduced to this single moment. Time stopped. And deep down, you felt something like the touch of past lives, as if you had been there with her, in some other place, in some other time. Something that transcended everything that had happened, all the struggles, all the deaths and rebirths.

She leaned in slowly, and her lips touched yours with an unexpected softness, as if testing the moment, measuring the intensity of her own desire. But soon, the softness turned into urgency, as if, finally,

Wanda knew there was no turning back. And you, with your heart racing, matched every movement of hers, with the same intensity, with the same hunger. It was as if everything around you had disappeared, and there were only the two of you. No universe, no past, no pain.

The kiss was like a river flowing between mountains, gentle and impetuous at the same time. When Wanda’s lips touched yours, there was no more space for anything — no fear, no doubt, just the need to be consumed by her, to surrender to what fate had already drawn. It was as if everything had been a preparation for that moment. Your souls recognized each other immediately, as if they had known each other since the beginning of time, as if they had met in all past lives, in all universes, in all reincarnations. The feeling of something eternal, something that couldn’t be broken, settled between you.

It was a soft touch at first, a silent exploration, but soon the need for more became apparent. Wanda’s tongue slid against yours, and the tension between you dissolved in the intensity of that contact. It was more than passion; it was a union of everything you had been and everything you would still be. The kiss became more urgent, as if, by touching, you were rediscovering each other, merging. The world around you disappeared, the sound of the rain, the shadows of the night — everything became secondary. There was only the heat of bodies, the exchange of breaths, and the silent magic dancing in the air, reflecting the indescribable connection between you.

Wanda slowly pulled away, as if reluctant to leave that moment. Her eyes were darker now, but there was something deeply different in them. Something deeper than any expression you had ever seen in her before. Something immense, an ocean of feelings overflowing without words. And you knew. You knew that, in that look, she was giving you her soul, all the pain, all the love, all the hope.

She touched your face with trembling hands, as if wanting to engrave the outline of your being into her memory, as if she needed you desperately, as if her happiness now depended on you. Her voice was hoarse, broken, but filled with a sincerity so pure it seemed to tear her very heart apart.

"You are everything I need," Wanda murmured, almost like a plea, like a truth she was finally accepting. The desperation was there, in her eyes, in the tone of her voice. "I never knew what it really meant to live until now... until you."

Those words settled in your chest with the force of a silent scream. And then, without needing to respond, you moved closer to her, your bodies fitting together as if they had always been meant to do so. It was as if, by being together, the entire universe became lighter, clearer.

And in the touch, in the exchange of heat, you knew. You knew that she was desperate to be saved, to be happy, to find a home. It wasn’t just about the love you shared, but everything she wanted to build — a life, a family, a future. That kiss was not just passion: it was a promise. A promise that, together, you could create something that would resist time and fate.

When she pulled her face away slightly, breathing heavily, you saw the vulnerability in her eyes, the fragility of someone carrying the weight of an entire world on their shoulders. But you also saw something more — a renewed strength, a confidence. Because, even with the pain she carried, she knew you were there, by her side, for whatever came.

And you whispered back, with a soft but firm voice, so Wanda would know what you felt, without doubt, without hesitation. "I’m here, Wanda. Forever. And we will build all of this together. As many times as it takes."

She smiled, a smile mixed with tears and hope, as if, at that moment, the world was finally a place worth conquering. You knew their future would be unpredictable, but you also knew, with an almost palpable certainty, that they had found each other for the last time. And that, in the end, was all that mattered.

The kiss that followed was gentler, but no less intense. It was as if, in that moment, you were building a new beginning. The future, uncertain and challenging, seemed promising, because by her side, Wanda had everything she had always needed: you. And by your side, you had everything you had always wanted: her.

And so, in the silence of the night, with the rain tapping on the windows and the distant echoes of the camp, you and Wanda surrendered to this truth. A truth stronger than any magic, stronger than any fate. Because what you shared was eternal, and nothing, no one, could destroy it. The connection between you was stronger than anything that could be said. Stronger than any magic, stronger than any destiny. It was something intangible, yet as real as the air you breathed. Something eternal, that would withstand any battle, any pain.

And so, in the silence of the night, between the distant echoes of the camp and the touch of your bodies still tingling from the intensity of the kiss, you both knew that nothing else mattered. Because, in the end, you were together.

~*~

Oh. I need her.

Tag list <3

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[moriitis]

"The apple Adam wanted to eat."

Fem!Reader x Toby Rogers. NSFW. 18+.

Unfinished ramble I had. Nothing great.

Content/Warnings; oral sex.

There was a lot of things Toby could list when it came to loving you. As any romantic, any gentleman, he would say your smile and laughter first - or maybe the face you would make when you realize you messed something up. There were the crinkles by your eyes whenever you smiled, or the laugh line beside your lips when you shared a chuckle. Your scent when he took a deep inhale at the strands of your hair, perhaps even the softness of your hands. The man could sing and praise the many, little things he adored about you. The list was endless and he would happily stay up all night to read them out to you.

But deep down, there was nothing he loved more than your pretty, little pussy. The softness of the flesh, the different tones of pink and god, the taste of it alone could send that man spiralling. There was nothing he could do more than praise that delicate pussy of yours, the authority it held over him. A chokehold that could send him falling to his knees just to earn a taste of you. It turned him into nothing but a helpless, hungry dog.

So, when he got the privilege of spreading your legs and burying his nose into that sensitive bundle, he could swear all he saw were stars. A taste so sweet that it should be forbidden, the way his tongue almost fit every fold like a perfect puzzle piece. God forbid if he were Eve, because an apple that was so tempting, so sweet - he too, would not be able to hold himself back from taking a bite.

Toby wasted no time, eating that cunt like it were his last ever meal. The sloppy sounds that emerged from his mouth, the endless amount of saliva that dribbled and coated the stubble on his chin. No matter the position, no matter where or what time of day; he'd eat the shit out of you if you were to only utter a simple word. On his knees, if you were on your back, his hands would always be clamped around the flushness of your thighs. The filthy, dirty thoughts that clouded his mind as he lapped his tongue helplessly on your clit. The amount of places he'd love to put his cock - your mouth, in your aching cunt itself, between your thighs so he could fuck you endlessly or even the plumpness of your breasts. The idea of painting a pretty picture all over you with his cum alone, the idea of rubbing his thumb along your nipple with his hot seed, letting white ropes spread out on your tongue or better yet, filling you up enough that it comes seeping out your pretty, little pussy.

The matter at hand here, however, was how his tongue danced perfectly against your folds. Exploring every part he hadn't yet - savouring the taste and drinking you dry. The way his tongue would slide up between your slit, soaking in your taste, the feel, until he reached your clit and fuck did he suck that fucker good. Giving it just enough attention to make you gasp until his focus when back to your hole alone.

Eating you out was good, a gift from heaven itself but those noises you produced from your lips. The way you squirmed, wiggled against the grip he had on your hips. You always got so sensitive, even toward the build up and after your orgasm. He knew, he knew that you loved the way he would ravenously lick you high. It was the look, the way your fingers pulled at his hair or even the slight tremble in your breath. It drove him crazy, encouraged him in a way that shouldn't be encouraged.

yah this was unfinished, but i haven't produced anything in a couple days so eat up.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well :)

Could I have cuddling HCs with candy, night terrors and LJ? Ty in advance!

I love writing fluff like this, I hope you enjoy <3 Me casually making new LJ lore while writing this :p

Terrors:

It's rough in the beginning, I'm gonna be honest. You are this man's first for everything because when he was living on his own, his own person, his own ruler, he did not care about relationships at all, so he doesn't really understand anything except the barebones basics. The first time you ask him if it'll be okay to cuddle, he tries to think back on how Candy cuddles you (which he can barely remember because he feels embarrassed just watching you guys from inside Candy's mind), and he says that if that's what you wish, you may cuddle him. You've come very far in your relationship with Candy and Terrors at this point, so you naively assume this should go easily, but your assumptions are soon proven wrong. Terrors lays down first, on his back stiff as a board, and waits for you to join him, and you do, curling into his side, but he never moves. He stays that way for a while, to your amusement, and it takes many, many snuggle sessions for him to loosen up. Once he does, gradually wrapping an arm around you, and then two, and then holding you close to him, cuddles with Terrors become much clingier. They're firm but incredibly warm and protective. He prefers to keep you flush and tight against his chest, his arms trapping you there securely, only letting you go when you ask. He always feels he still might be doing something wrong, so he's still a little tense, but he can't deny that feeling your warmth so softly against him is a treasure he wished he'd been indulging in with you for far longer, and these days he's more than willing to cuddle you if you ever ask for it. He gets to the point that he wants to ask you himself, but he's too shy, so he tends to hover around you in a way you come to learn means he wants to snuggle you immediately.

Candy:

Candy's cuddles are nothing to sneeze at. This man is clingy in the best ways, incredibly warm, and all-encompassing as a lover, so of course he gives some of the best cuddles you'll ever indulge in, and he's pretty much always in the mood to cuddle up to you, so you're never starved for his touch. While he's quite brazen and forceful as a person, he's nearly the opposite when you first start cuddling with him at the start of your relationship until he learns what you like. He's all soft smiles and gentle words, wanting to go at your pace to not overwhelm you with his large body and stronger touches. He lets you worm your way into his arms however you'd like to, and once you do the same thing enough times, he learns what you enjoy, and always settles into the right position, readily scooping you into his arms and nuzzling into you to his heart's content. I think Candy prefers to pretty much absorb you into his body with his preferred cuddles. He likes you snug against his chest, his arms around you, your legs intertwined, his torso covering yours as he leans over you so he can cover you with his body. It makes him happy to be able to cover you and hold you so closely, so confined in his body that you've got no choice but to be completely smooshed against him. The type of partner to say they want you inside of their body when you're cuddling so you can just become one being. He tends to surprise you with snuggles when you've been together longer, as he definitely recharges from your touch and just wants to have contact with you all the time, and he's so warm and soft that you can't help but want to constantly be snuggling him yourself, so you tend to never refuse him. Candy is always happiest when he has you wrapped up in his arms.

LJ:

Another resident snuggle bug like Candy, Jack is always down for snuggles, and he's not shy about asking for them either. He's the type to just lift you up and take you away from whatever you were previously doing so he can just carry you off to bed and cuddle you whenever he gets particularly lonely. The only thing that might seem like a drawback about Jack I would say is that due to his mechanical nature, he doesn't have body warmth, so he tends to start off cold in your cuddles. During the summer it's awesome because he can cool you off from the heat outside, but not as pleasant at times like right now, during the colder winter months. However, as the executive owner of this blog and canon, I've come up with a situation; I think since he was originally made for children, that he probably has an internal heater (like a heated blanket situation) to warm up and be more pleasant to be in contact with. Meaning, that Jack can heat up his body to whatever temperature you want, which I suppose actually gives him a lead over others if he has time to heat up! So, when it's really cold, he starts heating himself up in advance, so when you get home he's already warm and ready to go, ridding you of any biting cold you had outside. His preferred cuddles I often write him with are you laying on top of him, his arms wrapped snug around you, your face snuggling into his neck. He likes feeling the weight of your body on top of him, as it makes him feel content and loved, knowing he's got you right here, safe and sound in his arms. I haven't mentioned it in a while, but Jack is able to make a calming purring sound when he's happy, and you can bet your butt he's constantly making that noise when you cuddle, calming both of you down and relaxing you.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 48

(Prev) (Next) (First)

Chapter 10

*Grian's pov*

You freeze in place, your mouth widens then flattens then widens again... You feel a bit like a fish right now. You watched Scar as the tendril pierces his body and your mind just went blank, just poof and then nothing... This wasn't supposed to happen.

It took you a surprisingly long time to process what just happened... Are you being mocked? Your first day out and Hotguy is dead? What is this?? There's just no way that this actually happened.

...

When time begun and you were first spun from the primordial void you already knew a lot of things, you knew the way matter worked, you knew who were your siblings and their domains and most importantly you knew there were rules to the universe that no one should break, as the god of chaos you broke each and every single one of them again and again for sport and watched the universe almost fall apart multiple times because of it ...Except for one, there is one rule that you have never even considered breaking in all of your years, that which forbids from trying to manipulate Time's domain... Yet, when you see the bloodied tendril strike trough Scar's heart...as you reach towards him in three three different bodies the world around you stops in place...The moment you reach him everything has frozen in place including him... You can feel him with your hands, is he cold because he's dead or because time is stopped? You feel like you would normally be able to tell something that simple but you are...stuck, not thinking and yet thinking too much at the same time.

You feel too much right now, the silent coming from all around you makes the concurrent beating of all three of your vessel's hearts extremely loud even while nestled in their semi-mortal bodies...and the body beneath, It's just too-

Pain, unexpected, like your whole essence was grabbed and flattened and pulled, you almost kneel as you feel the fabric of reality itself stretch and bend in ways it wasn't meant to as the other gods your equals begin pulling to fix what you just broke, your grip on the universe wanes as other domains -Time, Order, Space- begin to push and pull against your own -Action, Change, Energy- you aren't going to be able to do this for much longer...The question is...what now? Whatever happens now you'll have to decide in relatively little time.

You don't understand why you are reacting like this, you could do this even without Scar here, three of your five personas don't even know him in any meaninful or personal ways.

You could just let this happen and do a bit of what the mortals call improv, maybe say a few words at his funeral and simply do your own thing from there. It might even make things easier for Mother Spore and Poultryman...

...No, you did not break time for nothing, that would be dumb and a waste and the idea of letting this happen is something you-... it doesn't matter, not really, what matters is you are not letting Hotguy die like this... which brings to the earlier question, what now.

You can't do this forever, not without so many gods ganging up on you, you need to do something big, a final push before time resumes.

Time...... you have an idea.

Time, you already broke it you might as well break it more.

Time, the constant increasing entropy, disorder growing in the universe every second of every minute of every hour...you feel it tightening around your soul and body and you use all the force you can muster to pull on that weave like a lead or rain or something else a mortal would say.

You are chaos itself, it would be logically impossible for you to reverse time, decrease the universe's disorder... Yet, you are chaos, the laws of reality bend for you... always have.

You blink your millions upon billions of eyes and open six of them back to a city, back to a meeting and back to an apartment... All around two hours before the fight and Hotguy's death.

That... that works.

[aishangotome]

[Gilbert] Love's Cleaning Time - Part 3

Part 2

Michael, thank you for your letter. I'm relieved to hear that you're doing well in Rhodolite. Regarding the matter you wrote about the other day, I looked into it on my end. It seems there's a collector in Rhodolite who specializes in buying books. This collector apparently buys rare books at whatever price is asked, and the poor, aiming for a chance to make a fortune, are desperately searching for treasures. I thought Rhodolite had good public order, but it seems every country has its share of troubled people. Akatsuki's bookstore isn't famous because the books he handles are too niche, but many of the books he deals with are rare and valuable, the kind of gems that would make a collector drool. Ah, I can't sleep at night when I think that something might happen to the little rabbit. Knowing you, Michael, you've probably already identified the person behind those watchful eyes. Could you use them to meet with the collector? And invite him to Obsidian's black market. ––I hear there are many rare books of historical value there.

Gilbert: Hmm... An outing after so long makes my heart race. Don't you think?

Roderich: ...I have a headache.

Gilbert: Ahaha, pull yourself together. You were the one who said it, right?

Gilbert: That thieves should be taken down.

Roderich: I can handle this alone.

Roderich: There's no need for Prince Gilbert to venture to the outskirts...

Gilbert: Hehe, I've wanted to see the black market for a while now.

Roderich: ...What would Walter say if he knew?

Gilbert: Ahaha, why should Walter restrict my actions?

Gilbert: This black market is really quite amusing, isn't it?

Roderich: .....

Fleeing Man: Run! It's the military!

Fleeing Woman: Why is the national army here!? No, I don't want to die!

Man with a Pile of Books: No, I just came here without knowing anything! Why must I be detained by the military –– uwaaah!

Gilbert: Ahaha, what a grand hunt. How strange.

Roderich: ...Was this truly necessary?

Roderich: Even though the black market is illegal, it exists due to political deals.

Roderich: The collapse of this black market will earn the resentment of some nobles.

Gilbert: That's the reason I came here.

Gilbert: You know why I'm called the "Conqueror Beast," don't you?

Roderich: ...Of course.

Gilbert: Resentment from the nobles? Ahaha, I'm not kind enough to let them harbor such things.

He steps on a man who lies pathetically on the ground, books scattered around him.

Even when his cane digs into the man's skin and he cries out in agony, Gilbert doesn't care.

Gilbert: Filthy creatures like him think nothing of hurting others for their own greed.

Gilbert: As long as they get what they want, they don't care if innocent people get hurt.

Gilbert: This world is overflowing with "unconscious malice."

Gilbert: That's why I have to be overprotective.

Gilbert: If the most beautiful thing in this world were to be harmed by such an insignificant creature...

Gilbert: I would want to destroy the world right now, wouldn't I...?

Roderich: Prince Gilbert...

Gilbert: Hehe... Roderich, I'll leave the command here to you.

Gilbert: Ah, and also...

Gilbert: Keep it a secret from Michael that I was rough with them, okay...?

*back to present time*

Emma: –– ...It's true, I stopped feeling those eyes on me at some point.

Emma: I thought it was just my imagination and almost forgot about it, but...

Gilbert: Hehe, that's good.

Gilbert: I'm glad nothing happened to you.

(I had no idea... Behind my peaceful everyday life was the goodwill of a great villain.)

Prince Gilbert takes the documents from my hand and traces the letters with his finger, a nostalgic look on his face.

Gilbert: I got scared after that.

Gilbert: Akatsuki said it would be alright, but it really wasn't.

Gilbert: There are so many dangers around you, and something could happen at any moment.

Gilbert: I couldn't stand the thought of it... so I ended up doing it.

(Michael continued to come to the store after that.)

(I talked to him about all sorts of things, unaware of the person behind him.)

Gilbert: I'm sorry.

Emma: Why are you apologizing? This is a story about how you were protecting me...

Emma: I should be thanking you ––

He gently places his index finger on my lips.

Gilbert: No, little rabbit.

Gilbert: You were being watched the whole time. By a royal from an enemy nation who did terrible things to Rhodolite –– no...

Gilbert: By a strange man, all this time.

Emma: .....

Gilbert: Little rabbit... do you know what the most troublesome evil in this world is?

When I shake my head, Prince Gilbert slides the hand that was on my lips to my cheek.

Gilbert: "Goodwill."

Emma: Goodwill is evil?

Gilbert: Yes. Goodwill, when you look at it another way, is "unconscious malice."

Gilbert: If you didn't know me...

Gilbert: ...and you found out that "a spy from an enemy nation's royal family was secretly watching your life," how would you feel?

(If I didn't know Prince Gilbert and only knew that information...)

Emma: ...I'd be scared, very scared.

Gilbert: Right?

Gilbert: In the worst case, it could have been more terrifying than being attacked by thieves.

Gilbert: My goodwill would only be malice to you.

Emma: .....

Gilbert: That's why you shouldn't thank me so lightly.

Gilbert: I'm a villain through and through.

Gilbert: The leader of the "filthy creatures."

(...Thinking back, I was scared during my time as Belle.)

(Prince Gilbert knew everything about me, and I felt like I was being watched.)

(But when I heard that story just now, I didn't feel scared.)

(Maybe my senses are already messed up.)

(...Or maybe ––)

Before Prince Gilbert can pull his hand away, I grab it ––

.

.

.

Part 4

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[rottenandsublime]

wrote a little rape fantasy about accidentally corrupting my too-sweet lover and thought I'd share ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

~~~

I scare the hell out of you sometimes with my carelessness. The innocence would almost be cute if it didn't have you so on edge, seeing me walk home alone in the dark, or forgetting to lock my back door from time to time. How many times you've tried to warn me that it's dangerous for a pretty thing like me to be so forgetful, so unaware, but every time I just wave you off. You're just paranoid, sweetheart! Nothing bad's happened, there's nothing to worry about. But you know it's only a matter of time until someone takes advantage of my naivety, and you need me to learn my lesson before that happens. The next time you find the sliding door unlocked, you decide now's the time. You take note of me on the couch and slip away to the bedroom to change from pajamas into black clothing and leather gloves. You hate that you have to do this, you don't enjoy the idea of hurting me, but you have to! How else am I going to learn to be careful?

Careful to stay out of sight, you slink behind me and throw your gloved hand over my mouth, dragging me up and over the back of the couch. I panic, naturally, legs thrashing, my fingers digging into your forearm, but you wrap your arm around my torso and hold tight, making sure the fear really sets in. You're doing a good job of muffling my screams, you feel me try to bite the leather as I fight back against you and decide to stick two of your fingers in my mouth. I howl, I shake my head no, I try my hardest to pull your arm away, and the whole time all you can think is how pathetic I look. This is exactly what you were warning me about! Look at how silly I look struggling, how useless it is. Fuck, the way I'm wiggling against you is actually turning you on more than anything. If you were a real creep, I'd be in so much trouble, I'd already be thrown over the nearest surface and fucked. I'd be crying, begging you--them--to stop, and you know personally how amazing my pussy feels and the thought of how tight it would get as I'm sobbing and hyperventilating--

The whole time your mind is wandering I can feel your cock getting hard against my ass and I start tearing up, begging around your fingers. Don't, no, I have a boyfriend, please don't do this please please please.

Fuck, I like how that sounds. You feel guilty the second the thought even crosses your mind but you can't help it. I just look so good helpless, which is all the more reason you need to teach me. You need me to learn my lesson. How else am I going to learn to be cautious? You drag me over to the arm of the couch, bending me over until my face is pressed hard into the cushion and my legs are dangling over the side. You rip my bottoms down my legs (You wore those cute little undies for me anyways, didn't you?) and pull your cock out, you rub the tip over my pussy and listen to me wail into the pillow, begging, begging you to stop. I sound terrified. Oddly enough, It's not breaking your heart as much as it did a minute ago.

Then you push your cock inside of me, and when I let out a moan, so do you. You feel me freeze underneath you, clarity dawning on me for the first time and you can tell. My hands tentatively reach back, feeling for you, but you grab them both and fold them tight behind my back.

"What did I tell you about leaving the back door open?" you finally speak, leaning over me to get closer to my ear.

"The back...?" I'm crying less now, but barely. "I...I'm sorry, I get it, I get what you're doing."

"You're lucky that it's me." Your hips are still rocking against mine, my legs still twitching against yours. I try to pull my arms away but you hold them firmly.

"I said I get it!" I cry out, and your hands twitch with the new and overpowering urge to cover my mouth. "Get off me please!"

Your cock twitches, your tongue suddenly heavy in your mouth. You should stop. You know you've gone too far.

It's just...you really, really don't want to.

[glitter-covered-bodybag]

I don't think we talk about how awful the Dubai penthouse really is. I mean look at the dining room.

HUGE table that encourages distance (especially as there's only 2 of them living here). When it's only Louis with his little bowls of blood he's gonna sit there alone with the heaps of space available at this table and no one else sat at it and be reminded that he really is alone. The bland walls with only a painting or two. The crisp and cleaners of everything. No warmth.

Then there's Louis's (supposedly) relaxation room with Armand's magnolia tree and Armand's library. A library that book-obsessed Louis cannot access. He's wholly dependent on Armand to retrieve things from it. "Please daddy Armand, may I have a book?" 😒 We literally see this when Louis asks to see the removed pages. Those belonged to Claudia, Louis's companion/sister/daughter. Why should that be something he has to ask for? Bare, grey walls like concrete. Like a prison. White stones in the zen garden the same as those Louis was buried in.

Then the bedroom. LOOK AT THIS BED. ITS MADE OF ROCKS. You CANNOT convince me this is comfortable to sleep in. The width of it meaning Louis and Armand can sleep entirely separately. The coffins, padded as they were look so much more comfortable and we know Louis likes laying in his coffin more than a bed from when he was recovering from the full body burns and asked to be put in his coffin even though the room was sun-proof and he would have been safe on the bed. Then the bars surrounding the bedroom. He's sleeping in a cell. (I've seen other people point out the similarity between the bars over the arches and the turning of Louis which is a detail I LOVE for reasons unrelated to this post. Here's a visual)

Everything is controlled through Armand's iPad. Armand controls the lighting. Armand controls the window shades. It just shows this unequal dynamic between Louis and Armand. "Armand protects my happiness"?? No, Armand is the one with the power here. You're his pet. You're his ward. Armand is an owner, a parent, almost a jailer (I'm not saying Louis can't leave or Armand is Evil, at all, just that the power dynamic is heavily tipped towards Armand as he tries to prevent a repeat of San Francisco. I wholeheartedly think he's just so overprotective that it tips into unhealthy territory). Louis doesn't do anything for himself. This is not how romantic relationships work. This is the first clue that their relationship is not what it seems, the first sign that Armand is trying to keep control of the narrative.

There is not one thing that shows me that Louis enjoys his space. Nothing to show it's lived in. It's cold and plain and boring. Compare to Daniel's apartment, a man who has had a long successful career and also lives alone.

Warm. A little messy. Lived in. An apartment of Daniel's size is hardly cheap either. But you can feel that Daniel's space is Daniel's space. The Dubai penthouse has no identity. I know this is just a modern, high-value aesthetic but there are so many other 'rich person' aesthetics that could be adopted that would be comfortable. Even keeping the clean lines. Look at these...

Still clean, still modern but warm. Everything about the penthouse is depressing to me.

[rei-ismyname]

Kitty leaves Xavier's part 1

One fine day at Xavier's, Chuck gets a letter from Kitty's parents informing him they're withdrawing her from the school. The primary reason is due to there being no students her own age (fair.)

Kitty is devastated, of course. I've been writing a bit about this very subject recently, but upon rereading I realised that I was in Kitty's position once. I was a 'gifted child' and didn't have much use for kids my own age. Whether that was a healthy thing for me is hard to say, but I do understand where she's coming from. Nevertheless, this should have been a wake up call for Xavier. He has the resources to take on as many students as he wishes - even if Kitty leaves for good the next child mutant will have the same issue. Ororo tries to comfort her but she's inconsolable.

Kitty is the one who figures out she's being sent to a school where The White Queen is headmistress. Ororo definitely remembers her and is concerned. Kitty displays both perceptiveness and a childish aversion to change. If nothing else, she needs more support than she's getting.

After saying her farewells to the X-Men, some more appropriate than others (what the fuck Pete?) she's ready to go. Ororo is going to drive her up there. It's nice to see how close Kitty and Ororo are, but their dynamic highlights just how young she is. It feels more like a parental relationship than that of siblings.

The two discuss how evil Emma is, and while Kitty receives orientation Emma reminds us.

'Ororo' says her goodbyes and after driving a few miles from the school drops a classic Emma Frost/Hellfire line - 'in this, as in all things, my pleasure will not be denied.' Emma body swapped with Ororo. WTF!

Emma is loving using Ororo's powers while quoting Shakespeare but goes a little too far. She realises how much concentration and control is required to not cause ecological disasters.

She calls 19th century Robber Baron and complete shithead, Sebastian Shaw, for some mutual gloating. Meanwhile, Ororo wakes up back at the Massachusetts Academy and feels super weird. She looks in the mirror and sees Emma's mug staring back at her.

For some reason Shaw sends Sentinels to attack Xavier's just as Emma is arriving. I always thought that one poking its head in at Chuck was cute. The fight isn't going too well so Kurt teleports to the armory and grabs some C4. He does a pretty damn good job of blowing up the Sentinels with it.

Just as everyone is recovering from the battle, Emma electrocutes TF out of them. Ororo is having difficulty adjusting to Emma's body and the onslaught of telepathic chatter, but she still manages to escape some Hellfire Club goons.

Next time - what TF is this plan? What's the creepiest thing Emma can do in Ororo's body? Will Kitty ever return to Xavier's? (Yes, obviously, but how soon?)

This arc is so messed up.

[gurlwhaaa]

GETO FLUFF/COMFORT FANFIC

(bcoz why not hehehe) context- this is basically a comfort/healing trope after the riko incident and he gets all depresso <3 I'M OPEN TO ANY FLUFF REQUESTS you hadn't seen suguru in a few days. you both had been busy. you had so many missions coming up and a couple tests. you missed him. he probably had been missing you too. you finally had found some time after a week or so. you knocked on his door. after a few seconds, you hesitantly entered. he had been sitting on the bed. looking out the window. the second he heard you come in, he looked like he had just come out of a trance. he looked at you with his eyes slightly wide. his hair was open and free, surpassing his shoulders by maybe a few inches. you smiled and climbed in. you sat close beside him, contemplating if you should lean your head on his shoulder or not. "I've missed you" you manage to mutter out. "I've missed you too" he said, turning his head slightly towards you. It was evening, there were no lights on, orange sunlight seeped through the window. there were a few books scattered on suguru's study table. 'not even trauma can stop him from acing a test' you thought to yourself. "how come you're not closer?" he asked. you don't know if you were imagining it but, you could detect an ounce of disappointment in his voice. 'ok, he still loved you; that didn't change.' you thought. you felt a little stupid for thinking that he might have forgotten you, but, your worry was valid.

"you rarely let your hair down, what happened?" you asked. "I like it when you tie it. you do it better." he replied. you could feel your cheeks reddening. "in that case, would you like me to tie it up now?" you offered with a small smile. "that would be nice" he said with a reciprocating smile. he always melted when you did something with his hair. nothing would ever change that. you got up, behind him, balancing on your knees. you knew he preferred keeping his hair up over having it down. after you were done, you put your hands around him from behind dropping you head to his shoulders. you gave him a small kiss on his cheek. "when was the last time you went outside these for walls?" you asked in a concerned tone. "today" he answered simply. "no, I meant for things other than classes and missions" you clarified. a small "uhh" was all you got. "satoru has been complaining that you don't stick around much. why's that suguru?" you whispered softly. "I've just been tired, love" he whispered back. it was getting darker. only orange and dark silhouettes of buildings were seen outside the window. "I'm worried about you." you admitted although it was not hard to tell. everyone was worried about him. "I'm sorry" he apologized. "please don't be, I wasn't blaming you, suguru. If anything, I'm sorry you had to go through all this." you reassured him. he leaned his head slightly against yours. his skin was warm. "do you want to train together tomorrow?" you asked him in hopes that it could get him to see the sun again. you weren't sure if he had trained at all that week. "yeah" he finally replied. you grinned. you could feel a small smile in his face too. it was small but, it was real. "thanks for coming" he whispered. "I always enjoy any time spent with you" you admitted. his lips met yours. the room was completely dark by now but, somehow, for him it was lit up by you. ______________________________________________________________ I'M OPEN TO REQUESTS BTW <3

[running-in-the-dark]

had my first real appointment with my new GP today (the time last month when I had to go in because of my middle ear infection doesn't count) - it was fine! not great, not bad, just fine. they had to take my blood too and surprisingly, the kinda rough nurse got a lot nicer once she realised how scared I was (usually they just tend to start talking to me like I'm a child).

then I saw that a package I was waiting for got delivered while I was at the appointment - to one of my neighbours. except it didn't say which one. there's 5 other families in this house, so that was a bit scary. I decided to just ask the people in the other ground floor apartment, and luckily they did have my package! the lady that opened the door was really nice. I'm glad I managed to do that - it was hard, tbh. really scary. but I just had the thought that I should at least ask those people and then basically ran out immediately so I wouldn't have time to think about it (and it worked).

we're getting closer to finishing our kitchen. just a couple things left now, like the hanging cabinets (that's the part that scares me a bit - I already don't trust those anyway, but if I know I'm the one who put them up... well that kinda makes it even scarier 😬). I'm excited for it to be done though - I really need to unpack the rest of our stuff before the chaos makes me go insane.

it seems that this period of having a slightly higher level of energy is over, unfortunately. I knew it wouldn't last, and it was like a month this time! that's impressive. but I'm still pretty upset about being back to having to sit on the couch most of the day. it's not great timing, there's so much to do still :( and I'm just permanently exhausted again, so it'll take forever.