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Sanremo August 2024 -> Tuta Gold, Mahmood
E' come l'aria del sahara
#robe italiane#ouat#once upon a time#august booth#italian#sanremo#questo è il video più tamarro di tutto il mese scusate#implicazione gratuita che august e neal scopavano e si drogavano insieme? forse#it's funny to me honestly#neal cassidy
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Siento que no hablamos hace meses y lo que va es apenas una semana sin hacerlo.
—g
#11 galaxias#once galaxias#notas#tumblr#pensamientos#tumblr escritos#quotes#tristeza#hablar#desamor#escribir#desahogo#te extraño#mal de amores#tu#yo#tumblr español#depresión#triste#meses sin ti#meses
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This is literally my OC Mes. Mes is the very meaning of “why we can’t have nice things”. They once had a prophecy of someone who would become an emperor, and prevented it because that guy called Mes a “triangular stink man”.
Prophets and seers don’t HAVE to give musings and warnings of the future in vague, riddling, or purposefully misleading ways. They mostly only do that when the people who come to them are being arrogant jerks or when someone knowing their actual happy end will cause that end to not happen.
#this is literally Mes#Mes is a prophet that is very very petty#They once said someone would live forever so they would go do something stupid and die#Boy do I love mesing with my OCs#hehe#did you get it?#i find myself funny
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PRIMA PAGINA Mundo Deportivo di Oggi martedì, 01 ottobre 2024
#PrimaPagina#mundodeportivo quotidiano#giornale#primepagine#frontpage#nazionali#internazionali#news#inedicola#oggi mundo#deportivo#junta#anuncia#ordinario#pero#reconoce#unas#vision#regresa#meses#baja#necesita#vencer#champions#confirmo#neerlandes#tendra#apostara#once#paso
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Once I had a dream where someone came into a cafateria that in dream logic I knew was the protagoniat.
They sat down at the table and an option box came up asking them if they would like to consume the cursed pasta. They picked yes.
A deep creepy voice - slow but powerful - started on the whole "I am thou ,thou art I." And followed it with something like " I am the flying spaghetti monster. Our selves made one, joined by the pasta within you that is of me." And so forth
The text box then told the protagonist that they had made a pact with the flying spaghetti monster.
I joked with my friend that I now knew what the persona 6 protagonist would be summoning, and mostly put it out of my mind, and remembered it again with the persona six news.
Looking up stuff about pastafarisiam (which I didn't really know anything about at the time) "Thou shalt have no other monsters before Me." (Suggestion 1:1) suggests maybe it wasnt a protagonist I was dreaming about. Or maybe that you can't fuse the flying spaghetti monster based on the rest of that quote "The only Monster who deserves capitalization is Me! Other monsters are false monsters, undeserving of capitalization."
I'm surprised with the emphisis on pirate's, it doesn't show up in one peice. It would be funny. Though a fan creator named Sirkrookodile created The Kami Kami no Mi, Model: FSM. I suppose Luffy has a fundamental food diffrence to pastafarianisms.
I am a little reminded about the naruto fanfiction "the book of Naruto" on fanfiction where Naruto becomes the ramen god, and people especially Hinata are praying.
Naruto has some odd fandom religions. Another one that comes to mind is "the log" by "ThatReallyReallyWeirdDude".
I'm getting pretty derailed from the intent. Thats partly the point, as I read about about Unit 731 on Wikipedia. Something about world war ii has people doing fucked up nightmarishly horrible shit to other people, and while that does add some context to ficitonal scientists like Hojo its 3:20 am, and I would like to be distracted from that, sorry.
Back to the flying Spaghetti monster, I don't think I'm into the party culture of FSM heaven or hell, but I do like their quote about joining their religion
"Go ahead. Try us for thirty days. If you don't like us, your old religion will most likely take you back."
Its quotes are great actually
"I'd Really Rather You Didn't Use My Existence As A Means To Oppress, Subjugate, Punish, Eviscerate, And/Or, You Know, Be Mean To Others. I Don't Require Sacrifices, And Purity Is For Drinking Water, Not People."
I have no idea if it will show up in persona 6, but if the flying spaghetti monster shows up, someone please tell me, because that eould be really funny, and I dreamed it years ago.
#persona 6#the flying spaghetti monster#Pastafarianism#random k#naruto#one piece#fanfic#predictions#once i dreamt#warnings for unit 731#look it up prepared for some really meseed up shit#or dont#check your menral health first#persona#final fantasy vii#professor hojo
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matthew + choking - no explicit smut but still minors dni
today you and all of his friends had been hanging out casually at the dorms. it was all going great until one of them decided it was a good idea to start flirting with you. boredom leads to interesting scenarios between men, you figure. of course, it was playful because they all knew how matthew could be but it was mainly for fun and games and to get a reaction out of their friend.
"matthew's girlfriend looks really pretty today!" jiwoong had pointed out. a simple tongue poke through the cheek was enough to let you know that matthew was getting irritated already. his bright eyes had turned dark and you could tell his whole demeanor had changed just by the comment alone.
you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from bursting out laughing because of how obvious he could be. just to rile him up because you were bored out of your mind, you decided to play along with the group's antics. a little poking fun wouldn't hurt, plus you could tell matthew had been pent up and stressed so why not lighten the mood?
matthew was definitely not happy to entertain this, not realizing that it was just a sudden ploy to get him angry on purpose. the guys liked to joke that he was just too easy to mess around with. he truly took everything to heart.
"thank you jiwoong," you blink at him flirtatiously. somewhere in the room, you hear matthew huff but you block it out of your mind. a part of you wanted to see how far this could go but a part of you knew this was a bad idea.
"can you guys not do that," matthew mumbles under his breath. he tries to pull you closer to him but you don't appreciate the force he's using so you resist.
"do what," you raise your eyebrows at him and pout. you use this chance to lean your head on gyuvin's shoulder, who was sitting nearest to you. "are they not allowed to compliment me?" you egg him on.
gyuvin laughs nervously at the way the older boy glares at him. he must not have been in the mood to feel matthew's wrath, you'd have to remember to apologize to the poor boy later.
"you know what you're doing.." matthew grunts, attempting once more to move you closer to his embrace. his arm muscles bulge every time he pulls you away from gyuvin and you appreciate it for a moment because damn, he has been working out. "im not doing anything. don't pull me so hard" you protest.
in your subtle struggle to stop him from pulling you close you don't notice how your skirt rides up and almost flashes some of the boys. most of them look away, thankfully. "y/n what's up with you??" matthew questions.
"im not doing anything wrong," you defend. "not doing anything wrong?" matthew's frustration with you starts to flare up when you say that. he huffs and stands up, almost knocking down the glasses on the table. everyone glances at him and then at you because they know what comes next.
"my room, now" he frowns at you. he walks off without waiting for you and you know you should probably not make him more upset than he already is. ricky makes a suggestive gesture in the corner of the room and you throw him a playful glare. hanbin shakes his head at you, whispering a "you're in for it".
once you get to matthew's room you see him sitting on his bed with his arms crossed. "fuck he looks so g-"
"the fuck is wrong with you?" "oh"
"nothing," you mutter. he sighs, running his hands down his face. suddenly a small part of you feels guilty. "do you enjoy making me upset y/n?"
when he repositions his arms, you shamelssly stare at them. the veins on his arms and hands are angerily popping out and you want nothing more than for him to-
"my goddamn eyes are up here"
you swallow hard, embarrassed at being caught. "i was just mesing around, its not a big deal, you're just....unbearable.
"im unbearable?!" matthew scoffs. "not with how you're being a slut around my friends every 2 seconds," he rolls his eyes.
you fold your arms across your chest but find yourself biting back a smile once again. when matthew had so gracefully yanked you off the couch, the sadistic part of you sort of hoped he would put you in your place right then and there somehow.
"no you're just possessive as fuck," you mumble. there it was. the word matthew hated the most. he stands up from the bed and takes long strides to where you stand. you back up but find that you're already up against the door. he wraps his veiny cold hands around your neck and you can feel his equally cool jewelry grazing your skin.
you gasp and grasp at his hand. "possessive?" he ponders on the word for a moment, kind of liking how it sounds for a second. "hell yeah i am" he grip around your neck tightens.
"m-matthew" you whine. you don't want to but you subconsciously rub your thighs together. this doesn't go unnoticed by him either as he rolls his eyes, realizing your motives.
"i can show you just how possessive i can be"
#drabble#mtl zb1#zb1 headcanons#zb1 imagines#zb1 reactions#zb1 scenarios#zb1 x reader#zb1 smut#matthew imagines#matthew x reader#seok matthew#matthew smut
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𝓖𝓸𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓞𝓷𝓮)
Pairing: Billy The Kid x Fem!Nun!Reader
Warnings: ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Dark!Billy, Virgin!Reader, Oral (female receiving), Fingering, P in V, Corruption Kink, Creampie, Possessive Behavior, Masturbation, Wet Dreams/Sex Dreams, Seduction, Emotional Manipulation, Religion and Religious Beliefs, Explicit talk of gunshot wounds, blood, and the bullet's removal (kinda? Idk if it's explicit explicit, but its a little more than just mentioned), Mention of physical abuse/child abuse (not from Billy), Childhood Trauma, Mention of alcoholism, Moral/Religious conflict within one's self, My bad Spanish, Nun breaking her vows, Probably too quick of a healing process to be fucking someone but I'm not a doctor so 🤷🏻♀️, Using the word "drawers" instead of "panties" which is kinda cringe to me but I wanted to be somewhat accurate
Word Count: 9.6K
A/N: Billy's passed out for most of this but I hope y'all like it anyway. Please know I'm posting this and then running away. Okay, byeeeeeeeeee
Summary: When Billy stumbles into your clinic, hurt and in desperate need of care and refuge, you don't hesitate to help him. Perhaps this is God's will. Perhaps He has brought him into your life to help heal the parts of him that the cruelness of the world has soiled and broken. You are a healer by trade, both of the physical body and of faith. If this is to be God's mission for you, then it shall be done. How could you have possibly known that the young man who begged for help that fateful night would turn out to be the devil himself?
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Translations:
Por Dios - Oh my God
Que Dios te bendiga - May God bless you
Qué sorpresa! - What a surprise!
Y él no quería que su mamá lo supiera. Así enterró la carne en el jardín - And he didn't want his mom to know. So he buried the meat in the garden
Pero el perro la desenterró y ella se descubrió de todos modos. Tuvo que lavar platos él solo por dos meses - But the dog dug it up and she found out anyway. He had to wash the dishes by himself for two months
Ese niño - That kid/child
Parece que era un buen amigo - Seems like he was a good friend
Sí, él era - Yes, he was
De nada - You're welcome
Gracias, Hermana - Thanks, Sister
They say the devil can take on many forms.
He is a demon figure - with the face of a goat, horns, hooves, and a blade pointed tail.
He is a great dragon - large and terrifying, destructive and formidable in the power he holds.
He is a roaring lion - hungry and fierce as he stalks God’s children, waiting for them to fall into his trap before he attacks them like prey.
But the devil was once God’s favorite angel, amazingly beautiful and wise. The angel of light, God’s morning star - a traitor now, a trickster . . . evil.
The Lord teaches love for all, compassion and understanding despite another’s upbringing or current situation. All humans are God’s children, all made in His perfect image, brothers and sisters in unity under His loving and eternal care. You are thankful to know this, grateful that you can feel His presence coursing through your veins despite the horror that you’ve come to face daily while working at the clinic. His gift to you is your endless drive to help those in need, sitting by the bedsides of the sick and dying, applying a cool rag to their sweaty foreheads, or spoon feeding them soup to give them strength when they are too weak to do it themselves.
It is a taxing life, and the sorrow you feel when you cannot nurse someone back to health is ever present in your heart, but the Lord is clear in your life’s mission and you will be forever thankful for the lessons you learn in this lifetime.
He has made you a healer, using you as a vessel for His healing touch for all you come across - regardless of wealth, status, religious affiliation, or criminal record.
Which is why when he stumbles into the clinic during the late hours of the night, face pale and hand pressing hard to his side where blood is streaming through his fingers despite the pressure, you don’t hesitate to help him.
You think you should have - should have let him bleed to death on the clinic floor. Would God have abandoned you if you had?
“Sister Maria!” You cry instead, running to the injured man and looping his arm around your shoulders to help him lean against you. “We need fresh towels and water! And sutures! Hurry!”
Sister Maria runs in the room, bedsheets still cradled in her arms from where she had been turning over a recently discharged patient’s room. She gasps at the scene, dropping the linens on the floor as she rushes to the main utility closet. You guide the man to a bed, helping him drop onto the thin mattress with a tortured groan. One of your hands splays over his, helping to maintain pressure on the wound until Sister Maria can bring in the needed supplies. Your other hand lays gently on his sweaty forehead, thumb caressing the straight line of his nose trying to soothe him.
His baby blue eyes stare up at you through their pained haze.
“P-please, help,”
The devil can take on many forms and carry many names.
And yet, despite all you’ve heard about who he is and what he’s done, you never once considered Billy the Kid to be one of them.
Misguided and uncared for - sure, but never evil.
He’s so young. You can’t even imagine what horrors he must have had to go through to lead him to the path that he’s on now.
Perhaps it’s fate that you’ve been brought together, an opportunity for you to spread the healing power of your Lord’s love and mend not only his body but his bruised heart as well. You’ve seen too many times where hardships have hardened the minds and spirits of others, caging them off from God as they struggle with their wavering faith.
“Don’t you worry,” You say. “The Lord is here with us. He will see you through.”
Whether he groans from your words or the pain, you’re not sure.
Sister Maria is quick to grab the supplies, dumping them on the side table. She dunks a clean cloth in the water, wringing out the excess, but pauses when she sees his face.
“Is that— ”
“Nevermind that!” You hiss, pulling the cloth from her hand.
You lift his shirt, exposing the injury and the dirt dusted skin framing it. It looks horrible, blood seeping from the laceration in a steady flow and a part of you is thankful that the sight of blood doesn’t make you immediately drop to the floor like your cousin, Paul. He gasps when you touch the cloth to the wound, blood immediately seeping into the white of the cloth and marring the pure color.
His fingers dig into the fabric of his trousers, gripping it tight as he clenches his teeth against the pain. Your free hand rubs lightly against his forehead, trying to soothe him as best you can while you clean the wound.
You think it must be God’s mercy that he passes out before you can pull the bullet out. The pain of the forceps digging into his body as you pulled out the thick ball of lead and the shock that would have come with it would have surely dragged him under had blood loss not gotten to him first. It’s better this way - he’s safer cradled in sleep’s loving hold rather than crying and jerking about as you try to save his life.
Sister Maria holds a small bowl out in front of you with one hand while the other delicately holds his wrist, feeling his pulse between her dainty fingers.
The bullet comes out easy, your forceps finding the lead and guiding it out of the wound’s entrance with ease. It clanks as you drop it into the tiny bowl, and you send up prayers of thanks for allowing such a quick and simple removal. The grace of your Lord has certainly just saved this man’s life.
With quick fingers, you stitch him up, practiced movements securing the wound shut before covering it with a generous dressing of cloth to keep it clean from any dirt and debris.
His sleep isn’t restful, the pinch in his brow and the way his cheeks twitch in the flickering candlelight of the small room make that clear. Your own brows pinch as you reach a hand out to trace the furrowed skin, smoothing it out with a gentle thumb. You don’t like seeing people suffer, but it’s more often than not that the people you come into contact with while working in the clinic are in pain, or suffering, or at Heaven’s doorstep. You help who you can and pray for the souls of the ones you can’t so they may be guided to God’s kingdom where they can live in an eternal paradise by His side. It always hurts when you can’t heal someone, the feeling of failure is a stark reminder that ultimately it is the Lord who chooses to give us life, and he can choose to take it away just as quickly.
It feels different this time though, somehow more personal in a way you can’t understand. The young man before you still has his whole life ahead of him, still so much to do and so many lives to touch. The sins that he’s committed thus far can be forgiven, if only he lifts them up to Him and asks for forgiveness. You can feel it, deep in your bones, that you need to save this man. You can’t fail.
He’s alive, for now. And you can only do your best to make sure he stays that way.
“He cannot stay here,” Sister Maria says quietly, gathering the red stained water and rags. “They will find him.”
You nod, gathering the small bowl with the bullet remnant and the sutures kit. “We’ll keep him here tonight and move him to the back room in the morning after he’s rested a while,”
“No,” Sister Maria says. “He cannot stay here. Helping an outlaw is punishable by death. They will hang us,”
“God will not abandon us,” You say, firmly. “We are all His children, servants and outlaw alike. He wouldn’t want us to toss him out on the street to die.”
You look over your shoulder towards the sleeping man again. His brow is furrowed again, the sweat on his face glistening in the light. You sigh before turning back to Sister Maria. “Don’t worry, Sister. I’ll think of something,”
The pacifying words seem to offer Sister Maria no comfort, and her worried eyes snap upwards as she looks towards the ceiling, voice cracking as she breathes a pleading, “Por Dios,” up towards the roof.
The room is silent to her plea.
You don’t leave Billy’s side the entire night, sitting in the chair directly next to the bed, dabbing at his heated face and neck with a damp washcloth and changing his bandage when the first one had soiled through. He wakes a few times during the night, icy blue eyes fluttering open and locking on yours for the briefest second before slipping closed once again, a quiet sigh escaping through his slightly parted lips.
This is the hardest part - the waiting. Waiting to see if your hard work to heal someone was enough. You keep a close eye on him, looking for signs of pain or illness, keeping an eye on the injury site to try and prevent infection. You flushed it with alcohol during the dressing change, having found an extra bottle hiding in the supply closet while grabbing some fresh cloths. Supplies like alcohol for disinfecting, while needlessly abundant in saloons and brothels, are difficult to acquire for the clinic. You think it's foolish, wasting something that can be used for healing purposes on something as pointless as getting drunk. Your father had been a drunk, drinking away his cares and woes, his only goal was to make it to the bottom of a bottle.
You wish you would have found it sooner so you could have actually disinfected the entire wound instead of just the outside and stitches, but this is better than nothing, you suppose. The smell as you pour it over his wound makes your stomach turn, reminding you of all the times your father came home reeking of the stuff, belly full of poison and his mind, hazed with drink, still evil enough to find your mother and make her suffer as if she were the reason he deemed himself a failure in life. Billy lets out a pained moan in his sleep, body subconsciously tensing in pain as the alcohol flushes the stitched up skin, but thankfully he doesn’t wake. You don’t want him to be in pain, but there’s a part of you that selfishly thinks he’s sharing your own pain, the memory of your childhood trauma somehow seeping into his brain as you recover his wound.
You know it’s not true, but you’re thankful he’s there with you anyway.
When morning arrives, you’re beyond exhausted.
The night shift always takes more out of you than the day shift and your eyes have been threatening to close since the first rays of the sun started spreading across the dust covered floor of the clinic.
Sister Ann and Sister Catherine arrive before the sun does, the first rays of it only starting to spill over the New Mexico horizon line when their footsteps echo through the entryway. You lean forward in your seat at the sound of them, glancing over at Billy’s still sleeping frame as Sister Ann’s gentle humming of a nursery song her mother used to sing to her spreads throughout the clinic. Quick footsteps cut through the song, the humming stopping entirely as frantic whispers sound from the entryway. And then three sets of running feet are getting closer to the corner room.
“Oh, good heavens,” Sister Catherine breathes, eyes locked on the special patient taking up the small bed.
Sister Ann has a dainty hand clasped against her mouth in shock and Sister Maria nervously wrings her own together from behind them.
“He was hurt,” You say, immediately defensive of the injured man. “We couldn’t leave him to die. The Lord says–”
“You don’t need to preach to us, Sister y/n,” Sister Catherine interrupts. “It’s the right thing to do. The Lord is on our side.” She’s confident in her words, and it gives you comfort you didn’t know you needed to have your beliefs validated. But she pauses, eyes flickering once again to Billy before they meet yours - the fear in her brown orbs clear as day. “The law, on the other hand, will not be.”
“We need to move him,” You say.
“To where?” Sister Ann whispers frantically. “The sheriff and his deputies are sure to show up here. They know he’s been shot, it’s only a matter of time.”
“It is a blessing they have not come already,” Sister Maria adds.
They’re right. With Billy injured, they have to know he couldn’t have gotten far. Their only saving grace is that the Sheriff more than likely would have never believed Billy would have come to the clinic for medical attention if on the run from the law. Perhaps holed up in some abandoned alley, bleeding out while propped up against a wall. Or maybe they think he tried riding out of town, desperate to get as far away from the people hunting him as possible before inevitably succumbing to his injuries and falling off his horse in a nearby field.
You rise from the chair, leaning over the bed slightly to rest a gentle hand on Billy’s forehead. It’s still clammy against your palm and he shivers slightly in his sleep, subconsciously pressing his head a little harder against your hand looking for comfort in his pained state. He needs to get away from here, away from any prying eyes because if he’s found, his life on this Earth is over. He is in no position to run or fight for his life. The road to recovery for him is a long one if he hopes to heal well enough to regain his strength and usual mobility. The only thing he will have to look forward to if discovered before he can is a necklace of rope and a quick fall.
“Help me get him to the back room,” You say, sternly. In moments of uncertainty and panic, someone needs to be the guiding light. Your fellow Sisters are still as stones in their spots, all in various states of distress as they look at the man who, if discovered under their care, could very well be the catalyst that marks the end of their missions here on Earth. The Lord brought Billy to you - you need to protect him. “He can stay in the alcove until we can figure out where to take him.”
“He cannot stay in the clinic!” Sister Maria exclaims. “They will surely check every room searching for him!”
“Trust me,” You soothe. “Please, Sister. We need to move him before they come or we will all surely pay the price.”
There is a short pause, but to your frantic brain it feels like an eternity before Sister Catherine nods and gently nudges Sister Ann to the opposite side of the bed.
“Let’s hurry,” She says, reaching to pull away the thin blanket you threw over Billy’s shaking frame at some point during the night. “I fear we don’t have much time left.”
Together, the four of you lift Billy from the bed. It’s a struggle. Even for multiple women to carry a fully grown man, it's a task and a half just to get him from the small patient room to the back area of the clinic. He whines in his sleep, his wound jostling and stitches pulling from the regretfully poor stability you have on his body as you carry him. But, somehow, he doesn’t wake.
The back room is small, but comparatively large compared to the patient’s rooms. The entire width is the size of two patient rooms combined, but that’s not giving it much grace. It makes you sick sometimes, to see people with money spending it on lavish items, large houses and grand parties just to show off their wealth when there are people in need all around whose lives would change if they only had a fraction of the wealth the ones in good standing do. As it is, the back room of the clinic is despairingly bare - limited backstock of supplies, linens, and food are scattered among the wooden shelves lining the room. If only those wealthy men who think to only fill their pockets would hear the Lord’s call to give to the needy instead. It would make your heart happy to see these shelves filled just once.
There’s a small alcove in the back of the room that you and the other Sisters use when times prove most trying. On the days when things are difficult, emotions are too much for you to handle alone or a patient isn’t doing well and there’s nothing you can do other than wait and pray for their recovery, you visit the alcove. It's been adorned with simple yet revenant items, a small yet beautiful cross nailed to the center of the wall, a small ceramic dish holding a wooden beaded rosary placed on the floor below it, resting on a pleasantly fluffed up pillow - ready to help guide their prayer.
Resting against the side wall of the alcove is a folded up cot. It’s not uncommon that one of the Sisters might have to sleep at the clinic during their off shift. More often than not, they are able to return to their lodgings to sleep and reenergize for their next shift. But there are times when too many people are injured, too many of the townspeople have fallen ill to whatever flu or illness that’s crossing through the town and all hands are needed here. The foldable cot is their home away from home, and while it might not be the most comfortable, you are thankful the Lord was able to provide it lest you be made to sleep on the floor behind the extra blankets neatly folded on the shelves.
You all adjust your grips on the young man allowing for Sister Maria to release her hold and pull back the thick blanket shielding the entrance to the alcove. You grunt under the presence of the additional weight, the awkward grip you all have on him unhelpful in the way his limp body bears down on you all. Sister Maria is quick in tying back the privacy blanket so that it stays to one side, and works to wrangle open the finicky cot. Once it’s unrolled, you help in depositing Billy down onto the makeshift bed, quickly checking his wound to make sure no stitches accidentally ripped in the journey back here before turning to accept the fresh blanket Sister Ann hands you from the shelf.
Billy’s brow is furrowed again, breathing a little harsher probably from the pain of being jostled. You lay out the blanket over top of him and pull it up to his chin, your hand reaching out to smooth the wrinkled skin between his eyes again.
“What do we do now?” Sister Ann asks, and Sister Catherine pulls her hand away from where it was plucking nervously at the skin at the sides of her fingers.
“We wait,” She responds, cradling Sister Ann’s damaged hand delicately between her own. “We won’t be able to move him out of the clinic before the Sheriff arrives. We’ll have to keep him hidden here until then and pray they don’t find him.”
The thought of the Sheriff and his men finding Billy here makes your stomach churn. The undeniable fate that waits for you if he’s discovered is one that you’re willing to sacrifice. He’s come here for help, God has brought him here to you for your healing and protection and you can’t fail Him just because your humanity makes you fearful of your end. It’s supposed to be a beautiful thing - death. The moment when your soul on this Earth fulfills its mission here and your granted eternal life at the side of God in the Kingdom of Heaven. It’s what you’ve wanted your whole life, a life of peace and serenity that seems so out of reach here on the soil. Fear will not keep you from looking forward to it. But you’re not done here yet, you have many years left of helping others and spreading His love to those in need. This is not your end. But if it is, it’s worth the sacrifice to try to save Billy.
You’ll hang with him, if need be.
Your fellow Sisters though . . . the thought of them hanging for your own choice, regardless of if you think it was the right thing to do, makes you sick. Your decisions are your own, and they shouldn’t suffer for your choices.
Billy’s forehead unwrinkles under your gentle fingers, and you can feel your heart break as you look down at him. He’s so young still, a young man just at the beginning of his life. He has so many fine years ahead of him. He’s handsome, fit and strong - he would make a fine husband for some lucky lady, a dutiful father for his children. He’s not as evil as they say. You’ve learned to trust your instincts when it comes to people. Sometimes the most misunderstood people are the kindest, and you can’t help but think Billy is the most misunderstood of all. You can’t sense a single whisper of badness in him.
You stand up and pull the privacy blanket back in front of the alcove, hiding Billy from sight in the safety of God’s makeshift altar. Together, you and the other Sisters make your way out of the back room. A few rooms down a sickly man is coughing up a storm, and from how hard and continuous his coughs are, you know his throat is raw. Sister Ann shoots the rest of you a worried look, but turns to grab a water carafe off of a side table before rushing down the hall towards the coughing man and away from the current situation.
“You can head back, Sister Maria,” You say, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. “Get some rest. It’s going to be a long day and we’re going to need you for the night shift.”
You can tell she’s torn, both wanting to stay and help in any way she can but seeming to know that there’s nothing she can do. All there is to do is wait. After a few moments, she nods, her own hand coming up to rest on top of yours. “Que Dios te bendiga,”
You watch as she makes her way towards the front, pushing open the wooden door before jerking to a halt. “Sheriff Garrett! Qué sorpresa!”
Her words sent a spark of panic through you. It’s so soon! You knew it was coming, but it’s still so incredibly soon. You had hoped for at least a while longer to try to gather your thoughts and think of a plan of where you can take Billy, but it feels like time moves slowly as the Sheriff and two of his deputies step into the clinic.
“Sister,” Garrett responds, respectfully tipping his hat.
Even through your panic, you still feel a twinge of irritation. A gentleman would take off his hat, but you suppose it’s better than the two men standing behind him who do nothing but trail their eyes around the clinic's entrance suspiciously (and with a clear bout of judgment).
You know for a fact these men with gold lined pockets have never given so much as a dime to the clinic.
Sister Maria turns back to look at you and Sister Catherine, desperation clear in her eyes and you're glad that none of the men are looking at her anymore or you think her obvious distress might have given you all away.
“Have a good rest, Sister,” You say, urging Sister Maria away. Thankfully, she listens, nodding to you and then Garrett before scurrying out the door.
“How can we help you, Sheriff?” Sister Catherine asks.
Garrett takes a few leisurely steps along the entryway, observing the interior of the clinic with the aura of a man who thinks he can see everything. You suspect he sees nothing at all.
“I apologize for the interruption, Sisters. I know you’re hard at work," He says. “But we’re looking for an outlaw on the run.” He pauses, looking over at the two of you with pointed eyes. At your silence, he continues. “William H. Bonney, otherwise known as Billy the Kid,”
“Oh, dear,” Sister Catherine gasps.
You feign concern also, bringing your fingers to your mouth as a sign of shock. Garrett nods in agreement at your supposed horror.
“As you no doubt know he is a very dangerous, very unlawful, man,”
“So we’ve heard,” Sister Catherine says, nodding solemnly. “Is that what brings you in today?”
“Yes,” He says. “There was an altercation last night between him and I. I was able to shoot him so he is very hurt, but he got away before I could arrest him or finish the job.”
“Kinda stupid to come to a clinic when you’re a wanted outlaw, Pat,” One of the men behind Garrett grumbles. “We’re wasting our time here.”
You can’t help but agree, despite that being exactly what Billy did. But maybe that’s what makes it smart. You're hopeful that Garrett will listen to his friend, will assume that Billy couldn’t possibly be here and leave the clinic without investigating it.
The small spark of hope dies as Garrett laughs without mirth. “The Kid’s not stupid. But we’re covering all our bases,”
“Helloooooo,” A voice calls from another room opposite the patient still occasionally coughing up a lung. “Can someone please pay attention to the sick people around here? Hellooooooooooo?”
Sister Catherine smiles tightly. “Mr. Taylor,” She says by way of explanation. “A rather problematic patient here. He’s a good man, just impatient.”
Sister Ann’s voice can still be heard attempting to soothe her own charge, so Sister Catherine has no choice but to tend to Mr. Taylor. When she disappears from sight, you turn back to Garrett, trying your best to deter suspicion.
“I can assure you, Sheriff, that we haven’t seen any sign of Mr. Bonney around here,” The lie leaves your lips far too easily for it to feel like the sin that it is.
Garrett nods, and you can tell he believes you, but puts his hands on his hips all the same, one hand pushing aside his coat to rest freely on the hilt of his gun. “Mind if we have a look around?”
You force a smile on your face. “Not at all. As long as you don’t bother any of the patients. They need their rest,”
“Certainly,”
You lead him around the clinic allowing him and the deputies to search the rooms for their missing outlaw. When they get to Billy’s old room, the room they just vacated not minutes before the Sheriff arrived, you tell them that a patient was recently discharged and that you hadn’t had the time to turn over the room yet.
“Why is there blood on ‘em?” One of the deputies asks, nodding to the blood stains still covering the stark white of the sheets.
“A cooking accident,” You reply. “An incorrect knife hold can sometimes do that,”
Another lie. You feel this one a little more than the first.
Eventually their search comes to the back room. You can’t keep them out, that would be too suspicious, so you allow them to walk through the half filled shelves. It's more than clear that there’s no place to hide anyone here other than the alcove and you're naively hoping they won’t even realize it’s there.
It’s a large blanket hanging on the wall. Of course, they’re going to notice it.
And, sure enough, one of the deputy’s eyes cut to the blanket. He heads towards it with a gruff “What’s behind here?” but you intercept him, rushing over to stand between him and the alcove.
The Sheriff and his deputies have their eyes on you now, each one closing in closer to you and the alcove, much too close for comfort.
“Sister,” Garrett says, voice stern with authority. “What’s behind the blanket?”
“It’s our place of prayer here,” You say, voice calm despite your nervousness. “Our altar.” You can’t mess up now. If you show any sign that you’re being untruthful, both you and Billy as well as your fellow Sisters out front will be on a one way trip to the courthouse. You’ll all die hanging from its top banister. “When healing doesn’t seem to be enough, it helps to have a place dedicated to God to call upon his everlasting power to perform miracles.”
Garrett nods. “Mind if we take a look?”
“Yes, actually. I do,” Your quick denial clearly catches him off guard, his eyebrows raising towards his hat. “Just as God bids us to modesty with our clothing, we must also show privacy and modesty in our places of worship. They’re sacred spaces. Surely you understand that, Sheriff,”
The words feel like poison on your tongue. Using worship and prayer to cover up a lie is the catalyst that makes bile feel like it's rising in your throat. It’s not a lie, you have to remind yourself. It is a makeshift altar, you do use it as a place of worship and prayer. Just . . . not right at this moment.
The reality of the situation is catching up with you, and you hide your slightly shaking hands by folding them together in front of you. You haven’t lied in years. You lied a lot as a child, a necessity of living with a father who’s anger could strike at a moment’s notice. You resented having to do it back then, forced to sin for the sake of trying to keep peace in the home. It’s much like the situation you find yourself in now, having to lie to try and protect another person. To protect yourself.
When you found refuge at the convent all those years ago, you were told you would never have to be untruthful ever again.
“God is granting you freedom from your woes,” You were told, and you remember how light those words had made you feel. “Thank him for His good graces with your undying loyalty and strive to always be who He guides you to be.”
You hadn’t lied since, no matter how tough things seemed. Sickly patients lying on their deathbed, scared and begging you for any kind of reassurance that it wasn’t the end for them. You wouldn’t give them false hope. Instead, you would tell them to turn their worries to the Lord, clasping their hands in yours and praying with them.
“Your soul is strong, bright and ever-present,” You would tell them. Sometimes you would let them hold your rosary so they can find comfort in it. “The body is a temple, and we do our best in our life to care for it. You’ve done that. If it weakens now, it is because God is calling your soul back to Him.”
The guilt is clawing at your chest, but you force it back as best as you can as you meet Garrett’s eyes. “I ask that you don’t force us to desecrate that,”
Garrett just stares at you, an unreadable expression on his face. One deputy just looks between you and Garrett, uncertain with how to proceed in the face of defying authority, and the other deputy that sneered at the thought of Billy even coming to the clinic scoffs at your words.
“Listen, lady, the law–”
“John, enough,” Garrett interrupts, voice shockingly hard as his eyes cut to his deputy. “She’s a Sister and you’ll show her respect.”
You feel a quick spark of satisfaction at the way the deputy’s confident, power hungry facade dies under the Sheriff's ridicule. He mumbles a quick apology to which you accept with a nod despite how insincere it sounds.
Garrett nods his head towards the door, silently gesturing for the other two to head towards the exit before he tips his hat at you directly, thanking you for your time and apologizing for any inconvenience their visit may have caused.
You want to tell him it was no inconvenience at all, but you’ve already sinned enough today and you can’t bear the thought of intentionally adding to the tally without justified need. Instead you settle on curving your lips into a convincing smile, thanking the men in return for their brevity and understanding and wishing them a good rest of their day as you usher them out of the back room and towards the front entrance.
Every single muscle in your body relaxes once they are completely out of the clinic, relief washing over you as you whisper out a quick prayer of thanks to God for allowing everyone to get out of the overwhelmingly dangerous situation unscathed - at least for now.
Sister Ann and Sister Catherine peek out of their respective rooms when they hear the front door swing shut, their wide eyes mimicking the relief you know is shown in your own.
“I can’t believe they didn’t find him,” Sister Ann admits, and it pains your heart to see tears begin to well up in her eyes. “I thought this was truly the end for all of us.”
You have her in your arms in an instant, cradling her small frame against your chest as she begins to cry in earnest. For as scary as it’s been for you so far, you can’t imagine what she’s been going through. Sister Ann and Sister Catherine have only known about Billy for less than no time at all. And yet, despite the short period of time between finding out about Billy, getting him into the alcove, and the entrance and departure of the Sheriff - you’re sure it probably felt like an eternity to her.
“Hush now, Sister,” You whisper, running a soothing hand along her back. “You’re safe, I promise.”
Sister Catherine places one of her hands on Sister Ann’s back as well, but she’s looking at you when she speaks. “He still can’t stay here,”
You know that. You know. You got lucky that the Sheriff didn’t find Billy this time, but who's to say that he won’t come back when he’s unable to find his missing outlaw anywhere else? Covering all his bases, that’s what he said. He’ll come back again when he sees that his other ‘bases’ have turned up nothing but dead ends.
Your older brother, Joe, has a cabin just outside of town. It’s a hidden place, specifically built for peace. No visitors. He lives alone, no wife or children to keep him company and he prefers it that way.
“If I’m alone, I can’t turn into him,”
You're positive he wouldn’t. Your brother is far from being anything like your father, but the task of trying to prove that to him seems to be out of your skillset. He tells you he’s happy with his life, that he’s chosen the path he feels he needs to be on just as you have. Who are you to pass judgment?
Joe likes the solitude, that much is certain. But he also has an adventurous spirit which guides him on lengthy trips from town to town, exploring all the world has to offer while never having to be tied to one place. He’s away now according to the last letter he sent you, planning to stay in Chihuahua, Mexico for a while and that he’s not sure yet when he’s going to be back.
“It’s dangerous,” Sister Catherine pushes, taking your silence as reluctance.
“I know,” You say. “I know. I think . . . I think I have an idea.”
The cabin will be empty. Joe isn’t due back for the immediate future, and even if he does return earlier than you suspect he will, you and Billy won’t be in danger. Joe can be trusted. He’ll help you, if need be. You can’t imagine that the Sheriff would ever know about it. It’s secluded - far off of any of the usual paths. It’s safe there. The perfect place to hide the wanted outlaw for a while. He can rest there, heal up uninterrupted for a few weeks until he can safely move around on his own two feet again.
Sister Catherine listens openly to the idea, but her face is pinched in displeasure.
“We don’t have much of a choice,” She says, reluctantly. “It seems like the best place for him to disappear to until he’s healed.”
You can hear the underlying pause in her agreement loud and clear. “But?”
“The clinic cannot spare two of us. We would lose half of our staff and it is too much for one person to handle alone per shift,”
“I wouldn’t ask any of you to come with us,” You say. No, for as much as you believe God sent Billy into your life for a reason, this was your mission to bear. You’ve already put your fellow Sisters through enough.
“You want to go alone?” Sister Ann sniffles, raising her head up from your chest.
“You need to think about this,” Sister Catherine says, sternly. “You shouldn’t be alone with him. He is a child of God, yes. But he is also an outlaw and a man. Sometimes, one of those is worse than the other.”
They’re being protective. The more rational part of you is grateful for their concern, and you think that if the positions were switched and one of them were in your position instead, you would react the same way. But a part of you is bitter. They’ve heard the stories. You know exactly how cruel men can be and you know exactly what they’re capable of. It’s a risk you’re taking, but you feel called to take it anyway. Billy needs your help, and God would never put anything in your path that you can’t handle.
“The Lord will protect me,” Despite the truthfulness of your words, you can see how they do little to reassure them. Your next words are better. “The Lord will help me protect myself.”
Sister Ann looks at Sister Catherine, once again bringing her hands together to pick at the reddened skin at the edge of her nail. Sister Catherine sighs, and the back of her hand reaches up to tap her forehead as if feeling the temperature or wiping away sweat.
“Alright,” She relents. “How do we get him to your brother’s cabin?”
“I don’t know,” You admit. “We need a wagon. Or a large wheelbarrow that we can put him in and attach it to a horse. I haven’t ridden a horse in a long time, but I’m sure I can manage.”
“Where are we supposed to get that?” Sister Ann’s tone borders on exasperated.
As if answering your unspoken prayer, the door to the clinic opens once more, this time revealing a bright faced Samuel Anderson, carrying a crate full of fresh supplies. And behind him, lit up by the sunlight like a bright blessing, is his wagon.
Sam Anderson is the son of local store owner, Edward Anderson, the clinic's top provider for basic supplies that are not strictly medical. While medicine shipments and more specialty items are donated from suppliers farther away, and frankly much less frequent than necessary, Mr. Anderson and Sam never fail to come through with plenty of food for you to make soups and nutritious meals for your patients. On occasion, you even have enough to give away to the families who are stacked together in a small two bedroom on the edge of town. With eight children total between two families, you're honestly not sure how they manage - but you do your best to help when you can.
Seeing Sam walk through the front door is like a beacon of light from Heaven is shining down on him. He’s smiling already, the crate of food handled carefully between his hands as he lets out a cheery, “Good morning, Sisters”. But as soon as he sees your faces, more specifically when he sees the tear tracks still visible on Sister Ann’s cheeks, he’s placing down the crate and across the clinic’s entrance in a second.
“What’s going on?” He asks. His hands automatically reach out towards Sister Ann’s face as if to cup it, but he stops himself. Instead he just looks at her worriedly, his concerned gaze leaving her face for only a moment to glance at you and Sister Catherine before they’re back on her, voice low and gentle. “What’s wrong?”
It’s no secret that Sam harbors some romantic feelings towards Sister Ann. There are days when you feel sorry for him - a young man, good and kind and generous, who you have no doubt would make a fine husband to any lucky woman is in love with one of the four women in the entire county who are incapable of returning his affection. But it’s moments like this when it’s easy to see God’s presence in other people. Sam is as respectful and kind as they come. He accepts his feelings can never be reciprocated and in turn uses his undying love and loyalty to Sister Ann by helping you all at the clinic with anything he can.
Somehow, he doesn’t expect anything in return, never stares at Sister Ann with an ounce of lust in his eyes, and it warms your heart to see the godly quality that’s usually so absent in men so prevalent in him.
“Something’s happened,” Sister Ann tells him, her voice still wobbly with emotion.
“What?”
“Sam,” You say, calling his attention back to you. “I know I have no place to ask this and I won’t fault you if you decline, but– I’m asking.”
“Tell me,” He insists, pulling his hat from his head and holding it to his chest, and God bless how the sincerity in his voice bleeds into his words. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it,”
So you tell him everything. Sam listens with wide eyes, shooting panicked glances at Sister Catherine and Sister Ann when you tell him about the Sheriff’s visit, and he’s genuinely sorrowful when your voice gets caught in your throat as you tell him that you had to tell some lies to get him to leave without discovering Billy. He’s nodding already when you mention your brother’s cabin.
“I’ll take you there,” He offers before you can even ask the question. “My wagon is always at your disposal.”
“It’s dangerous. If we’re caught, you would hang with us,”
Sam lets out a breath, unconsciously glancing over at Sister Ann again. “If the four most wonderful and religiously minded people in town hang for trying to do the right thing, then this isn’t a town or even a world that I want to live in anymore. Please let me take you. It would be my honor,”
A small smile graces your lips as you reach out and gently cup his cheek in thanks. For as many men pull and grind on your nerves with their endless greed and manipulation tactics, Sam is a breath of fresh air - a truly God-fearing man with a good heart.
He’s another person that you’re putting at risk, another life in danger because of the choice you’ve made. You try not to think yourself too selfish. Surely the fact that Billy has turned up in your life is God’s plan, and He does not put obstacles in your way that you cannot overcome.
He tells you that he’ll come back tomorrow. He has a delivery that’s expected in a town over and if he’s going to make it there and back before nightfall, he needs to leave before the sun comes up.
“I’ll stop here first,” He says. “We can load him into the back of the wagon while most people are sleeping and make the trip to your brother’s before I head on my way.”
“Thank you, Sam. Honestly,”
“My pleasure,” He nods his head at you, replacing his hat and tipping it kindly towards Sister Catherine and Sister Ann. “Until tomorrow, Sisters,”
The door swings shut behind him as he leaves and you let out a deep breath, hands smoothing over the dark veil covering your head just to feel a bit more grounded before you pick up the crate of food Sam brought. Billy needs to eat something. You're not quite sure how long it's been since his last meal, but even if he ate a minute before bursting through the clinic’s doors in the early morning, he would surely still be hungry and in need of sustenance by now. His body is weak and it needs nourishment to heal.
Billy’s still sleeping when you peek around the privacy blanket. His head is turned to the side and buried in his pillow as much as he can get it, mouth hanging open as he breathes. Your hand itches to reach out and touch him again, to smooth against his forehead or cup his cheek, maybe place your fingers under his chin to help close his mouth in hopes of him breathing through his nose instead so his mouth doesn’t dry out.
You’re not sure where this desire is coming from. You’re as affectionate with your patients as any nurse should be - kind and supportive, offering comfort when needed, but not overly so that it can be considered inappropriate. You’re all brothers and sisters, children of God - yes. But there are still social norms that must be considered.
It feels different with Billy for some reason.
“I’m going to get you to safety,” You whisper. You’re unsure about if he can hear you in his sleep or not, but you feel the need to tell him anyway. “I promise.”
You fall asleep at some point during the night, slumped against the wall next to the alcove’s entrance.
You don’t remember falling asleep. You remember feeling tired, exhausted by the stress of the day’s events, and how your eyelids were threatening to close permanently more and more with each blink. The soup you had made still sat out in the small kitchen, and you had wanted to stay close to Billy so that whenever he awoke, you would be there ready to help feed him.
Instead, you wake to the sound of Sister Maria giggling to your left and a low, unfamiliar but still soft voice speaking in Spanish to her.
“Y él no quería que su mamá lo supiera. Así enterró la carne en el jardín,” The voice lets out a small chuckle, the smile on his face evident in his tone despite you not being able to understand most of his words. “Pero el perro la desenterró y ella se descubrió de todos modos. Tuvo que lavar platos él solo por dos meses.”
“Ese niño,” Sister Maria laughs. “Parece que era un buen amigo.”
You can’t see his face, but you can hear how he loses the smile in his voice. “Sí, él era,”
Pushing yourself to your feet, you step over to where Sister Maria is kneeling in front of Billy’s cot. It’s only now you see the mostly finished bowl of soup in her hands. Billy’s sitting up slightly, back propped up against his pillows enough to allow him to sit up a bit straighter but not enough to pull too much on his stitches.
At seeing your movement, his eyes snap to your approaching frame, big blue orbs staring up at you and you can’t help the relief you feel at seeing them.
“You’re awake,” You breathe, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Thank the Lord,”
His lips twitch a bit in what looks like a suppressed smile. “Kinda sounds like I should be thankin' you,” He says, and you notice how prominent the shift in his accent is as he seamlessly switches from Spanish to English. “Sister Maria says that you’re the only reason I’m alive right now.”
You shake your head, humbly. “Oh, no. Sister Maria and I work together as a team. I couldn’t have done it without her aid,”
“You show no fear,” Sister Maria insists. “Where I hesitate, you show mercy and strength. It is because of you that we are all alive now.”
“See?” Billy says with a blinding grin, and you can’t help but notice how handsome he is while no longer at death’s door. “My angel,”
You feel your face heat up at the endearment. An angel. Surely the comparison shouldn’t fluster you like it does. You’ve thought of your fellow nuns as the embodiment of angels before, angelic beings put into human bodies by the grace of God to spread His word. You know that’s not exactly true, that you’re just using your belief of what God’s angels would be like and seeing those beings in your fellow Sisters just like Billy is doing with you now, but you’ve never once thought yourself to be comparable to such a holy being and the compliment makes you flush.
You run a hand across your face, feeling the warmth under your palm, and clear your throat. “Oh, well, thank you,”
Sister Maria stands, taking the nearly finished bowl of soup with her. “He has eaten plenty and I changed his covering as soon as he woke up. You will want to change it again when you get to the cabin.”
“That’s great. Thank you,”
“De nada. I’ll go check on the patients and keep an eye out for Sam,”
She nods to you and Billy before she turns to leave, a small smile pulling at her lips when Billy rasps out a soft, “Gracias, Hermana,”
When she’s gone, you take her place in front of Billy, kneeling at his side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better thanks to you,” He responds, wide eyes trained on yours, a smirk playing at his lips as he continues. “Don’t feel much like I’m dyin’ anymore,”
A small laugh escapes you at his morbid joke. “Well, I’d say that’s a very good thing then,”
“Sister Maria said the Sheriff came lookin’ for me,”
“He did,” You confirm. “The Lord kept us all safe though and has given us an opportunity to get you to safety.”
Billy’s eyebrow raises skeptically. “Sounds like it was more your doin' than the Lord’s,”
You try to not let the slight against God rattle you. You had sensed this was coming anyway. William H. Bonney a.k.a Billy the Kid is an outlaw afterall, and no outlaw becomes an outlaw while still maintaining a positive relationship with the Heavenly Father. He’s gone through many hardships no doubt, and has more than likely deemed his bad luck in life as God’s personal vendetta against him.
“The Lord speaks through all of us, if only we have an open heart to hear him.” You tell him. “Fear can make His words harder to hear, and I’m thankful that He was able to guide my mind and heart enough through the fear for us to get to safety.”
“Hm,” Billy hums, and you can tell how much he doesn’t believe your words. He doesn’t argue though. “And where exactly is this safe place you’re gonna take me?”
“My brother has a cabin just outside of town. It’s well secluded and unknown to most. We’ll be safe there until you’re healed enough to go on your own.”
Billy’s eyes drop to your hand still resting on his shoulder, thick dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks before his bright blue eyes are locked on yours again. “You gonna be takin’ care of me, Sister?”
“Of course, I will,” You reply. “We shall see you well again, Billy. I promise.”
His own arm crosses his chest so his hand can rest on your own, his eyes wide and so earnest as he whispers a quiet, “Thank you,”
It’s only about an hour longer before Sam arrives. It’s still early morning, the sun still a ways away from coming up behind the horizon line, and town is silent. Sam pulls his wagon up to the back door of the backroom before coming around the front to help push it open from the inside. It’s been so long since it’s been opened. The door was once used for the scheduled delivery of goods for easy access to the storage area, but as years went on and the county and surrounding counties became overrun with greed and poverty, the shipments became less frequent. Now, anything needed just comes through the front door. It’s never too much anyway, so what’s a trip or two to the backroom while carrying a crate.
Sam slams his body against the door a few times, the wood groaning in protest under his weight before it finally swings open. Billy watches from his place on the cot, his eyes threatening to close but forcing himself to stay awake. You want to tell him to sleep, he needs his rest to help him heal and recover, but you’re too busy checking your bag to make sure you haven't forgotten anything before tossing it in the back of the wagon. You need to leave before the townspeople start to wake up. If someone sees you, if just one person witnesses you smuggling away a wanted outlaw, then all of this would have been for nothing.
“Sister y/n,” Sam calls, squatting at the head of the cot. He’s got his arms wrapped around Billy’s torso. “Come grab his legs. We’ll do our best not to jostle his wound,”
You come to a kneel at Billy’s legs, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “Do your best to relax, okay? If you tense, you might tear your stitches,”
Billy lets out a harsh breath through his nose, clearly nervous, but he nods anyway, brows furrowed in determination.
Together you and Sam hoist him up. He gasps, groaning as his wound pulls but you can see how he’s trying to keep his stomach untensed. Getting him into the back of the wagon is not graceful, and you find yourself spewing endless apologies the whole time despite the relatively short journey.
Sam’s laid out a bed of hay covered by two thick blankets throughout the entire bed of the wagon. Crates of food and other supplies take up half of the bed, but he’s managed to make it so Billy will have enough room to lay comfortably on his designated side. Billy sighs as he’s laid down on it, one of his legs bent at the knee and his palms pressing into the makeshift mattress as he cranes his neck up to look at you. You ball up a spare blanket, tucking it under his head before you push him back down with a gentle hand on his forehead.
“Rest now, Billy,” You tell him, crawling out backwards and helping Sam slide on the rectangular backing on the wagon to secure it shut. “We’ll be there when you wake up,”
His eyes stay locked on you as you circle the wagon towards the front. Sam helps you up onto the spring seat before jogging around the rear and hauling himself into the driver's seat. You smooth out your tunic, looking around the dark street for any suspicious or wandering eyes that might be peeking out from around buildings or through windows. You don’t see any, even as one of the horses whinnies when Sam urges them forward. The clinic is located towards the edge of town, so it only takes a few minutes of nervous eyes and your head on a swivel before the wagon is passing the final few buildings that mark the town’s end of population and you can relax.
You blow out a deep breath, meeting Sam’s equally relieved gaze as he snaps the reins and nudges the horses a little faster. You look over your shoulder to check on Billy and you’re expecting to see him sleeping, no doubt still exhausted from the trauma of taking a bullet. Instead, he’s looking at you, head twisting so he can see your elevated frame from his laid out position. His eyes seem to pierce into yours, so blue and intense as he watches you that it makes your breathing hitch in your throat.
You’ve never seen eyes so beautiful before. Like endless pools of glistening water. Surely God must have taken much care when crafting them for him.
You feel your skin prickle under his stare, body straightening in your seat. He doesn’t stop watching you.
“Sleep,” You tell him. “You’re safe, I promise.” And thankfully he listens, eyes trained on your face for just a moment more before closing his eyes. The tingling feeling in your body dissipates with the removed gaze.
Your gaze turns around the front again, looking out to the vast stretch of land before you as you leave the civilization of town behind.
“Sam,” You start, looking for anything to pass the time and distract from whatever unusualness just happened between you and your charge. “How’s your mother?”
#𝑇𝑎𝑙 𝑊𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠 ✎#billy the kid smut#billy the kid x reader smut#billy the kid x reader#dark!billy the kid#tw: noncon#tw: non con#tw: dubcon#tw: dubious consent
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Contigo | Enzo Vogrincic
(Spanglish)
The city of Madrid was enveloped in a quiet stillness as the sun began to rise on a Sunday morning. You had been in a relationship with Enzo for nearly a year now, but lately, his busy schedule of conferences and interviews had left you feeling disconnected and unmotivated. Sensing the need to break out of this monotony, you decided to embark on a solo adventure and take the metro to El Rastro, a bustling open-air market that had always piqued your curiosity. With a sense of anticipation, you stepped onto the train and began your journey to the vibrant market, hoping to find some inspiration in the lively atmosphere.
Upon checking your WhatsApp, you saw a message from Enzo that greeted you with "Buenos días". You replied with a smiley face, and he responded by asking, "estás bn?". In response, you expressed your longing by typing "nada, te extraño".
After exploring the famous open-air market, El Rastro, you made your way back to your apartment for a well-deserved rest. You decided to take a long nap to recharge your energy and prepare for the rest of your day.
At 11 pm, when you were just about to call it a day, you heard a sudden knock on your apartment door. Curiosity piqued, you made your way to the door and peered through the peephole to see who it was. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Enzo, your boyfriend, standing outside with a bucket overflowing with beautiful roses. You couldn't resist the urge to open the door immediately and bask in the sight of his charming smile and the sweet fragrance of the roses.
He embraces your entire being, lifting you up against the wall. His lips caress your nose, then move to your soft lips, then to your delicate neck, and finally back to your lips once more. You feel his touch all over your body, sending shivers down your spine.
~
You find yourself sitting on the couch of your apartment with Enzo. After exchanging some kisses, he gently runs his fingers through your hair and places soft kisses on your cheeks. As you gaze into his beautiful honey-colored eyes, you suggest taking a stroll through the lively streets of Madrid to breathe in some fresh air. Enzo readily agrees, and you both set out to explore the vibrant city together.
As you walk hand-in-hand through the enchanting streets of Madrid, the city's vibrant energy surrounds you. Enzo breaks the serene atmosphere with a gentle inquiry: "¿Está todo bien?" You respond with a sigh, your emotions spilling out. "Es que... llevo meses sin verte y lo único que hago es trabajar, comer, y dormir. No es que tenga amistades; es que... a veces siento que te necesito, y odio sentir eso."
Unexpectedly, Enzo opens up, revealing his own struggles. "Sabes… me he estado sintiendo igual. Vos entendés que todo ha sido complicado. Mill(ch)ones de entrevistas y ahora con un nuevo papel—” Your curiosity peaks, and you interrupt, “Espera… ¿cómo que un nuevo papel? Joder Enzo, pero, ¿por qué no me lo has dicho? Joderrr… Felicidades!”
In a burst of pride for his upcoming film, you embrace Enzo tightly and shower him with kisses under the warm glow of a streetlamp in a romantic corner of Madrid. As he reciprocates the affection, he gazes intensely into your eyes. You playfully kiss the tip of his nose and delicately trace your fingers over his eyebrows, savoring the moment. Softly, you express your pride, whispering words of admiration, and seal the sentiment with another tender kiss.
Enzo, caught in the embrace of your pride and affection, responds with a tender smile. The soft glow of the streetlamp accentuates the warmth in his eyes as he holds you close. In a voice filled with love and gratitude, he whispers, "Gracias, mi amor. Having you by my side makes every achievement sweeter." As he gazes into your eyes, a silent understanding and a shared passion for each other's successes deepen the romantic connection between you two.
#enzo vogrincic#la sociedad de la nieve#society of the snow#fanfic#spanish#spain#uruguay#enzo x reader#latina#x reader#enzo vogrincic x reader#enzo vogrincic x you#my writing#argentina#enzo vogrincic fic#me enamoré de un uruguayo
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lindaa podes hacer uno de esteban kuku smut, me dio tierno, corte primera vez o algo asi, si no haces de él no pasa nada, yo entiendo
hola reina!! OBVIO que escribo para kuku, estaba esperando que alguien pida aaa te adoro !! hice esto recien, super rapidito, espero que te guste ♡
𝜗𝜚⊹ ‧₊˚ petit-déjeuner
pairing: bf!esteban x gf!r
sinopsis: Esteban acaba de volver de su viaje a Venecia y estas dispuesta a recuperar todo el tiempo perdido.
content: age gap sin desarrollar (ambos +18), stablished relationship, smut sin plot (jiji), fingering, p en v, mentions of breeding, fluff, no se que más.
word count: 1.7k cortito y conciso.
Hacía ya un día que Esteban había vuelto de su viaje a Venecia, donde asistió al prestigioso festival de cine. Lo habías extrañado, aunque te costara admitirlo incluso solo para vos misma. Tu cuerpo lo ansiaba.
Por eso, cuando escuchaste el familiar sonido del motor del auto apagándose en el garage, prácticamente corriste a lanzarte encima de él en cuanto entró por la puerta. Hizo a un lado su bolso para sostener tu cuerpo entre sus brazos mientras le llenabas de besos la cara.
Pasaron la noche entre copas de vino y pasta, compartiendo experiencias de Venecia, la gente que conoció, el éxito de la película y la felicidad de estar de vuelta en su queridisima Buenos Aires junto a vos. Esteban y vos llevaban once meses juntos, aunque los últimos meses habían sido caóticos debido a los rodajes, viajes y todo el trabajo de producción, dejando la vida sexual en segundo plano, sin embargo ambos tenían necesidades y estabas dispuesta a saciarlas.
Sabías que Esteban estaba cansado por el viaje, así que esperaste hasta la mañana siguiente para deslizarte desnuda en la cama que compartían. La luz matutina resaltaba los marcados rasgos de tu novio, y por un segundo pensaste, "¿Cómo puede tener una cara tan angelada?". Aunque Esteban ya estaba despierto desde que entraste a la habitación, mantuvo los ojos cerrados hasta que te subiste completamente a la cama y encima de él.
"Ah, bueno...", dijo, recorriendo con la mirada tu cuerpo y regalándote una sonrisa ladeada. Te mordiste el labio mientras comenzabas a restregarte contra él. Solo llevaba puestos unos boxers, así que frotaste tu cuerpo contra el suyo, disfrutando del calor de su piel.
"¿Estamos cariñosas hoy?", señaló con un tono burlesco pero dulce. Gemiste suavemente, besando ligeramente su muñeca cuando sentiste sus dedos entrelazándose en tu cabello.
"Estuviste lejos mucho tiempo", dijiste en un suspiro.
"Fue solo un mes, gorda."
"Mucho tiempo".
Esteban soltó una pequeña carcajada mientras te acomodabas sobre él, tus manos reposando en su pecho definido.
"Me debes algo", dijiste finalmente, mirándolo con ojos suplicantes.
Esteban arqueó sus cejas mientras sus manos se paseaban suavemente por tus muslos y costillas, a veces subiendo a tus pechos, acariciándolos con un poco de fuerza y bajando otra vez.
"¿Ah sí? ¿Y cómo puedo saldar la deuda?"
"Vos sabes perfectamente cómo, kuku."
"No, ángel, decime qué querés."
"A vos."
El mayor deslizó su pulgar por tu cadera, acariciándola con una sonrisa en su cara. "¿Sí? Pero si ya estoy acá, a mí ya me tenés hace mucho tiempo", refutó, haciéndose el desentendido.
Tu pecho estaba rojo de la vergüenza, sabías que te iba a hacer decirlo. "Quiero que me cojas", dijiste ahogando un gemido, tus caderas todavía moviéndose encima de su ya erecto bulto generando una fricción extasiante.
Esteban parpadeó ensimismado ante la vista que tenía delante suyo.
"¿Sí?"
"Sí, kuku, porfa", rogaste sobre su regazo.
"¿Cuánto?" volvió a preguntar, sus dedos estimulando tus pezones mientras se incorporaba lentamente. "Dios, te necesito adentro mío, Esteban, te necesito ya", exclamaste desesperada ante tantas preguntas.
El mayor soltó una risa, sus palmas sujetándote suavemente pero con firmeza.
"Está bien, preciosa, pero primero te quiero preparar."
"No, no, no, por favor, no hace falta."
"No es negociable, nena. Si quieres que te coja, primero te vas a tener que correr dos veces con mis dedos. Sino no hay trato", dijo, terminando de incorporarse y volteándote, quedando así en la posición en la que él estaba hace unos segundos atrás, su cuerpo por encima tuyo. Ambos sabían que tenía la fuerza suficiente para manejarte como quisiera.
Mordiste su brazo en respuesta, pero a él pareció no importarle mientras marcaba su camino hacia tus muslos con besos, así que simplemente te dejaste llevar. Después de todo, no te molestaba tener un par de orgasmos adicionales. Esteban siempre había sido hábil con sus manos y boca, pero después de tantos meses sin ningún tipo de contacto, cuando por fin sentiste sus largos dedos acariciando y estirando tus paredes empapadas, mientras su lengua jugaba con tu clítoris, llegaste a los dos orgasmos sin problema después de un par de minutos, casi rozando un tercero antes de gemir y arañarle los bíceps; tus uñas dejando marcas rojas en su piel.
"Ahora sí, tebi", dijiste sin aliento, tus piernas temblando por tus orgasmos recientes. "Por favor, no puedo más."
"Ahi va, bebé, esperaste todos estos meses ¿Qué te va a hacer unos segundos más?", murmuró coqueto, levantándose para que te sujetaras de sus hombros y te acomodaras encima suyo, tus rodillas seguían débiles, por lo que intentaste alinearte y sentarte encima de su polla con rapidez.
Sin embargo, él no te dejó apurarte y te fue ubicando lentamente encima de su duro miembro, entreteniéndote con un beso hambriento, su lengua introduciéndose en tu cavidad bucal mientras dibujaba círculos sobre tu sobreestimulado clítoris. Te estremeciste alrededor de él cuando sentiste cómo su punta se abría paso entre tu apretado interior, tan mojada que goteabas sobre su polla y sus muslos.
Cuando finalmente se hundió por completo, intentaste moverte de inmediato, deseando sentir cómo te destrozaba. Pero nuevamente te retuvo, retorciéndote y gimiendo, apretada contra él.
"Shh, disfruta un poquito", te dijo mientras presionaba besos y mordidas en tu hombro, tus uñas clavadas con fuerza en sus hombros ante la repentina intrusión y anticipación.
Cuando finalmente aflojó su agarre en tus caderas, inclinaste tu peso hacia adelante, apretándolo contra el borde de la cama, y bajaste las manos hacia su ancho pecho. Cambiaste el ángulo de manera que veías estrellas al sentir su polla tan dentro tuyo.
"Dios, kuku", dijiste en un gemido, con la voz temblando un poco mientras tus caderas empezaban a mecerse contra su pelvis. Él gimió, casi como alentándote, viendo cómo la luz del sol se filtraba por la ventana y daba contra tu cuerpo desnudo, sus palmas se encontraban ligeramente presionadas sobre tus muslos mientras su pene bombeaba en tu interior. Todo se sentía increiblemente bien.
"Dios amor, es como si hubieras sido creada solo para mí", balbuceó envuelto en el delirio del momento, y por un momento pensaste que sí;
estabas hecha solo para él.
El mayor guió tus caderas hasta encontrar un ritmo adecuado que te hacía rozar tu clítoris contra el suave vello rubio sobre su pelvis. Toda esta situación era mucho para vos, realmente mucho después de haber alcanzado el clímax dos veces, pero no paraste incluso cuando algunas lágrimas comenzaron a salir de tus ojos, escurriéndose por tus mejillas, siendo resaltadas por la suave luz del sol golpeando tu cara.
Su polla se sentía tan bien dentro tuyo, te llenaba de una manera exquisita. La punta de su miembro se curvaba contra tus paredes y rozaba perfectamente ese punto dentro tuyo. Gemiste y jadeaste ante tal estímulo mientras mordisqueabas distraídamente su cuello y clavículas y gemías su nombre en su oído.
Una de sus manos subió hasta uno de tus pechos, tomándolo en su boca, chupándolo y besándolo vorazmente mientras que la otra estimulaba tu clítoris con velocidad.
Lo montaste vigorosamente mientras sentías cómo tu tercer orgasmo amenazaba cada vez más con llegar. Tus caderas comenzaron a moverse de forma desincronizada cuando un gemido agudo se escapó de tus labios. Esteban entendió la situación al instante, por lo que tomando tus caderas, salió de tu interior y te volteó nuevamente, un quejido abandonó tus labios ante la falta de estímulo. Sin embargo, Esteban volvió a adentrarse en tu coño apenas terminaste de acomodarte en cuatro, con tus antebrazos apoyados sobre la cama y el culo alto en el aire, dándole una vista asombrosa a su parecer, lo cual lo incentivó a mover sus caderas de una forma lenta y seductora, sin embargo golpeando justo el punto adecuado.
"Amor! Por dios!", gritaste contra la almohada, saliva escapándose de tu boca hacia la sábana, tu clímax cada vez más cerca, "Por favor, que rico, seguí, seguí, justo ahí." lloriqueaste de placer, tu respiración agitada "M-mas fue-fuerte." dijiste fuera de si.
Te desmoronaste debajo suyo apenas treinta segundos después, temblando, colapsando sobre el colchón y apretando las sábanas en tus puños como buscando que eso te salve de la sensación tan abrumadoramente satisfactoria, tu espalda todavía arqueada para mantenerlo adentro tuyo. Él acarició tu espalda, suavizando sus estocadas mientras sentía cómo lo apretabas tan, tan fuerte.
"Amor", murmuraste después de un minuto, incorporándote un poco, luciendo completamente agotada.
"¿Listo?" preguntó, sacando su miembro de adentro tuyo a punto de ayudarte a levantar.
Negaste, girando tu cuerpo, quedando ahora boca arriba y volviste a abrir tus piernas, sabías que todavía faltaba él.
"Acabá", le dijiste mientras guiabas su polla hacia tu entrada una vez más, apretándote alrededor suyo y sonriendo maliciosamente cuando sus ojos se cerraron con fuerza ante la sensación. "Porfi, quiero que acabes antes de que vayamos a desayunar."
Él no esperó ni una palabra más y te sacudió fácilmente de arriba hacia abajo, penetrándote con intensidad, buscando su propia liberación y vos seguiste el ritmo felizmente, apretando tus paredes cada vez que se empujaba dentro tuyo, exprimiéndolo. Miraste ensimismada sus músculos tensándose y emitiste pequeños sonidos ante la sobreestimulación, llorando de placer y aferrándote a sus brazos, rasguñando los mismos.
Cuando él llegó al clímax, gemiste como si hubieras acabado de nuevo, inclinando la cabeza hacia atrás mientras sentías su cuerpo desplomarse encima del tuyo durante unos segundos.
"¿Eso era lo que querías?" preguntó con su respiración agitada, tus dedos acariciando sus claros cabellos mientras él presionaba suaves besos en tu mejilla.
"Mhmm."
"Dios, te extrañé tanto, preciosa", dijo incorporándose, saliendo de tu interior con delicadeza y presionando un beso en tus labios.
"Mhmm", repetiste, tus ojos estaban cerrados y tenías una sonrisa pintada en la cara. Esteban se rió por lo bajo, acomodando los cabellos que estaban en tu rostro detrás de tu oreja.
"¿Quieres ir a bañarte mientras hago el desayuno?" dijo acariciando tu mejilla con tanto amor que pensaste que podías derretirte ahí mismo. Consideraste la oferta, pero terminaste negando con la cabeza. "Bañemonos y después hacemos juntos el desayuno", dijiste mirándolo a los ojos. Esteban entendió enseguida a lo que te referías y depositó un beso en tu nariz.
"Bueno, vamos a bañarnos, el desayuno puede esperar."
#esteban kukuriczka#esteban kukuriczka fanfic#esteban kukuriczka fluff#esteban kukuriczka one shot#esteban kukuriczka smut#esteban kukuriczka x reader#esteban kukuriczka x you
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How Slytherin boys react to sister! Reader during her cycle
Warning: fluff, swearing, slight modern au/era
Ft. Tom Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire.
Riddle brothers
Poor torture for them.
You’re a few treats younger so when it was your 2nd year and it was that time for puberty to struck, hell went loose as you had thrown a pillow at mattheo for trying to wake you up. You had blood on your pants and you were already breaking down
“JESUS CHRIST—” mattheo yells as Tom walks pass the door frame only to walk backwards with narrowed eyes. “What in Merlin’s beard…” immediately Tom knew what was going on and had asked pansy to come here
After pansy gave you a girl talk and gave you what supplies to wear during your period. You felt normal and well. Mattheo was still scared of you, but loves you dearly
Tom, he will just buy you whatever you want. Just don’t complain to him another anything.
Draco malfoy
Honestly I feel like he knows what to do, so he asked pansy what supplies do girls need mostly and he went to get them.
He would definitely get pansy again to talk to you, or your cousin Luna to talk to you about womenhood and all that stuff. He’s awkward definitely about those kinda stuff.
He gets his house elf over to you for the week of your period and takes it back as if you stole it…
When really he cares about you a lot.
If cramps get bad, he just makes you stay in the dorm and sleep. He may not know what cramps in the abdomen feels like, but he knows you’re hurting.
Theodore Nott
He’s smart, he already knows what to buy and what to get you.
By the time you are freaking out, he is already running a shower for his poor lil sis
“It’s normal, very normal for you to have this cycle.” He’s speaking in English as he walks to the bathroom to make sure you have fresh clothes
“AAH sembra così strano!? Una volta al mese?! Sarà devastante anche solo vivere!!” You say complaining in your native language which makes Theodore sigh and help clean your sheets. (it feels so strange!? Once a month?! It’s gonna be devastating to even live!!)
If you suffering, he’s suffering from your complaints.
Lorenzo Berkshire
Also a smart boy!!
He’s getting thing for you the moment you mention blood.
He’s getting pills, blankets, snacks, pads, you name it
“Wanna Watch a movie with your heating pad?”
“HELL YEAHH🗣️‼️”
It was a chill night
#slytherin boys x you#slytherin boys react#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys#slytherin#slytherin x reader#slytherin boys fluff#theodore nott x reader#nott the brave#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire#tom riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#tom riddle#Harry Potter x reader#sister!reader#sibling!reader#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader
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❄️ WOSO FICMAS: Dec. 16 - Ona Batlle❄️
Ona Batlle x Reader (Barça & Spain) | WC: 858
Dec. 16 prompt - winter proposal
-> all translations from google!
-> woso ficmas masterlist can be found here!
With the upcoming break from the season for the holidays, you and Ona decided to spend the holidays just the two of you. You’ve been together for three years but you have known each other for a long time. You first met when you were both on Barça’s B team almost ten years ago. You became fast friends and over time, feelings for each other developed.
You had been visiting Ona in Manchester when you kissed the night before you were supposed to leave. Doing long distance wasn’t difficult since you got to see each other during international breaks which made spending time with each other more special. When Ona was transferred to Barcelona, you knew it would benefit your relationship.
You got to spend even more time together and were practically attached at the hip during training sessions. You had learned to tune out your teammates' teasing comments, happy to finally have your girlfriend back in your favorite city.
You had to run a few errands this afternoon, leaving Ona alone to plan a surprise she had for you. The defender shared your happy feelings about being in the same city once again. The past months of living together and going to work together was the definition of domestic living and Ona wanted nothing more than to make that permanent.
When you got home, Ona was dressed in a nice outfit and practically bouncing with excitement.
“¡Hola bebé! (hello babe!)” the defender greeted you the second you stepped foot in the door.
You chuckled at your girlfriend’s antics, greeting her with a quick kiss and mumbling a low “hola” against her mouth as you pulled away.
“¿llendo a algún lugar? (going somewhere?)” you questioned, looking her up and down with a small smirk.
“¡Tengo una sorpresa para ti! (i have a surprise for you!)” your girlfriend’s excited tone never falters.
You shook your head with a small laugh, letting your girlfriend pull you out of the house and towards the car. You knew better than to ask questions, Ona wasn't going to break, and you loved seeing her so excited for something.
When you pull up to your favorite spot overlooking the bustling city of Barcelona, you're sure this is the surprise that Ona was talking about. Completely unaware of the box resting in her coat pocket.
The two of you sit in silence overlooking your city, the silence isn’t awkward, it's comfortable and full of love. You can feel your girlfriend’s eyes on you, your face flushing see the look in her eyes. The two of you were so in love with each other and it wasn’t going away anytime soon, or ever.
“Y/N,” the defender cooed, pulling you from your thoughts.
“Quiero preguntarte algo (i want to ask you something.)” you watched your girlfriend fidget with a ring on her finger, her excitement from earlier now replaced with nerves.
“Puedes preguntarme cualquier cosa, mi amor. (you can ask me anything, my love.)” you promised, reaching a hand out to squeeze hers.
“Los últimos meses de convivencia han sido los mejores. Me encanta despertarme a tu lado todas las mañanas y dormir a tu lado todas las noches. (The last few months of living together have been the best. I love waking up next to you every morning and sleeping next to you every night.)” the defender started, catching her breath before continuing.
“No quiero que ese sentimiento desaparezca nunca. Te amo mucho y quiero pasar el resto de mi vida contigo. (I don't want that feeling to ever go away. I love you very much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.)” Ona professed.
Before you could fully process what Ona was moving, getting down on one knee in front of where you were sitting. You watched with wide eyes as she pulled a small black box from her pocket.
“¿Quieres casarte conmigo? (will you marry me?)” Ona’s voice was laced with hope and nerves, hoping she wasn’t going to scare you away with such a big question.
“Sí. (yes.)” you choked out, tears welling up in your eyes.
With shaking fingers, Ona slipped the ring from its box, tossing the box to the ground. She slid the ringer down your finger, eyes locked with yours the second it reached the bottom of your finger.
Your hand reached out to pull your girlfriend into a passionate kiss, conveying all the love you felt for her in one kiss. The kiss lasted a while before you both pulled away when air became an issue. The two of you sat at the lookout for a while longer before heading home, wanting to celebrate your new engagement in a way you couldn’t in public.
You and Ona spent the next two days leading up to Christmas in your own world. When Christmas morning rolled around, you were on a video call with both your families when you held up your left hand to show them the ring. You waited a few days after Christmas to tell the world, simply posting a picture of your left hand with the caption “best surprise ever!”
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Sex therapy is what works the best (Pedri x Reader x Ferran)
Warnings: Ferran is not dating Sira, Pedri thinks a good fuck is what his friend needs to get back to his top level, smut, Pedri watches his best friend fuck his girlfriend, sorry not sorry Ferran is hot, mentions of the internet asking for Ferran's head because of his recent performance on the club, lots of Spanish
Masterlist
Ferran is disappointed in himself, another bad match and half of the Internet beating him down, asking for his departure from the team. His psychologist says its all in his head, that once he gets mentally better everything else will do too. He can't help but doubt it, he thinks he is bad, he won't get out of this one, and like the memes say, he will do better to start learning, Chinese or Japanese because he most likely will end up playing there.
He is a shell of himself seating in one of the corners of the changing room as his teammates celebrate the victory when he feels to taps on his shoulder, Pedri sits next to him, watching him with sorrow, the midfielder feels sorry for his friend.
"Venga, que no pasa nada, ya lo harás mejor en el próximo partido" he tries to cheer him up, but the other shakes his head. (come on, it's nothing, you will do better on the next match)
"Dudo que Xavi me vuelva a sacar tras el desastre de hoy" (I doubt Xavi will have me on the field again after today's disaster)
"Que va, ya verás que si, chacho. Todo está en tu cabeza, una vez te olvides de lo que dicen los gilipollas de Twitter, todo irá mejor" (no way, you will see, man. Everything is in your head, once you forget what those assholes in Twitter say, everything will be better)
Ferran has his face buried on his hands, hiding his dreadful expression from his friend "¿Y que pasa si no está todo dentro de mi cabeza? Capaz es que simplemente doy asco. Llevo ya meses en el psicólogo, hago un partido bueno, y luego todo vuelve a lo de siempre" (and what if it's not all inside my head? Maybe I simply suck. I have been at the psychologist for months, I do a good match, then everything goes back to the same as alway)
His friend is quiet for a second, before saying "Creo tengo una idea para sacarte de la mala racha" (I think I have an idea to get you out from the losing streak)
"Tú estás mal de la cabeza" Ferran tells him once they are on his friend's car after dropping off Gavi, the other shakes his head. (you are sick in the head)
"Que va, tú hazme caso. Lo que te falta a ti es una buena follada para liberar estrés" (no way, you pay attention to what I say. What you need is a good fuck to release stress)
"¿Una buena follada con tu novia?" he asks, unbelieving, Ferran is sure Pedri is on weed or something. (a good fuck with your girlfriend?)
"¿Por qué no?" (why not?)
"¿Y que pasa si ella no quiere?" (and what if she doesn't want to?)
"Lo hará. Si escucharas las cosas que dice sobre ti no tendrías dudas. Que si estás cachondisimo que si no se que" (she will. If you heard the stuff she says about you, you would have no doubts. That you are so hot, and more that I can't remember)
The two boys arrive to the house you share with Pedri and Fer, though the midfielder knows his brother to be out with some chick. They hear your low humming and feel the delicious smell of whatever you are cooking. You are distracted when they see you, dressed in Barça's shirt after having to miss the match to study, it's big on you and hides the shorts that Ferran guesses you are wearing. You dance around the kitchen to the sound of Quevedo and Pedri has a giant smile on his face as he watches while Ferran struggles to keep his eyes from your ass. You were indeed only wearing panties under the blue and red shirt.
"¿Te la pasas bien?" (having fun?)
You spin around on record time and are on your boyfriend's arm as soon as you recognise his voice, lips meeting his as you congratulate him on their win, you get off him and also embrace Ferran in a not-so-tight hug and give him your congratulations too.
"¿Tienes hambre, Ferran? Hice suficiente comida para todos" (are you hungry, Ferran? I made enough food for everyone)
"Tiene hambre, pero no de tu comida" (he is hungry, but not for your food)
Ferran hits his friend to shut him up as he laughs, you give them a confused look but choose to ignore your boyfriend's idiotic comments.
It is not until you three are sat eating dinner, when Pedri's plan reaches your ears and you understand everything.
That is how you end up like this, on all fours as Ferran pounds into you from the back, Pedri is sat on a corner watching everything while pumping his dick.
It's impossible for you to contain your moans, your boyfriend's best friends dick reaching incredibly deep inside you, almost kissing your cervix as he brings you in closer by the strong grip on your waist.
"¿Qué tal te vas sintiendo, Ferran? Ella parece que bien" your boyfriend comments, watchful gaze on your forms, how your head is buried by Ferran's hand into the pillow, but not even that can quiet the angelic noises coming from you. (how are you doing, Ferran? She seems to be having fun)
"No entiendo como la dejas sola ni un momento, con lo puto apretada que está, parece que estoy en el cielo" (I don't understand how you even leave her alone for a second, with how fucking tight she is, it feels like I am in heaven)
"Una buena folladita por la mañana y por la tarde y vas tirando. Después de los partidos fuera, hay que recuperar" (a good fuck on the morning and afternoon. After away matches you make up for it)
Pedri's grip on his own dick tightens too, but his hand doesn't compare to the real thing as he watches Ferran abandone your insides, spin you around, your eyes on each other and mouths meeting, your leg on the boy's shoulder, making you let out a scream when he again slams into you. From Pedri's position, he can see your eyes filling up with pleasure tears, your nails bury into his friend's back, surely leaving marks that won't go away on the next few days. Ferran's lips meet you neck, sucking on it, he too wants to leave a mark, Pedri doesn't mind, one hickey doesn't even compare to what he always leaves on you.
You watch Ferran through your teary eyes, you are in a haze, can't really manage to think straight at all. You look down, watching as his cock slams repeatedly into you, how his abs clench, as do his thick thighs that you have always drooled about -all with Pedri's permission. He reaches down again to make out with you, his chain moving as violently as his hips do, the cool metal buries into your chest as he lets go of your leg, his big hands on your ass picking you up and seating you on those thighs you love so much, still pounding into you as hard in that position while also helping you ride him, moving you as if you were a ragdoll as your moans get louder and hold into his strong shoulders.
You eyes meet Pedri's, he winks at you and you clench when you see his cum all over his strong stomach and thighs, still pumping his dick in a slower matter, Ferran groans at your tighter self, the sound getting you closer to the edge until you finally let yourself go, making everything wetter than it already is.
You can feel Ferran's balls clenching under you as he trembles, he too is close, you reach down and massage them, that makes it for him. He gives you the last few thrusts, stronger than any before and cums deep inside you, you are glad you are in birth control. He trembles as you hop off his dick, your hands massaging his chest up and down to help him come down from the extasis of his orgasm, he was ashamed to confess it had been a while since the last time he had one from another person and not his hand.
"Ayúdala a limpiarse, ¿no?" Ferran nods with gone eyes, his thighs still tremble, yet not as hard as yours, he struggles to stand up, Pedri stops him "Con la lengua Ferran, así es mejor" (help her clean herself, no? With your tongue Ferran, it's better that way)
The boy nods, strong hands gripping into your thighs, keeping you in place as his tongue licks from you hole to your clit, lips wrapping and sucking on it as you can't help but move around. One arm wraps around your waist, the other leads his fingers into your hole, pushing in whatever cum has come out, pumping once or twice, you are so sensitive that you cum again in no time. Ferran separates as you push his head away from your clit, he places a kiss on your cheek and falls down next to you.
Pedri stands up, and walks towards you two "Descansen qué ahora me toca a mi follar y tú por la boca" (rest that's it's now my turn to fuck and yours in her mouth)
That night is a long one, your bed is a bit small for the three of you, but you make it work. The next morning there are promises to repeat the experience, no bad performance from Ferran needed as an excuse, but now know that if the bad performance continues, Ferran will for surely attend this therapy asides from the one with his psychologist.
Needless to say, maybe Pedri was right about the whole thing, as the next match Ferran starts in, he leaves the field with a goal and an assistance on his back, the whole Internet praising him as the hypocrites they all are.
That night, the three of you celebrate, the therapy will for sure continue.
#pedri#pedri headcanon#pedri imagine#pedri x reader#pedri smut#ferran#ferran torres#Ferran torres x reader#Ferran torres smut#Ferran torres imagine#fc barca#barca#barcelona#football imagine#football player#football#spain nt#spanish nt#spain national team
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PERDÓN LA MALA CALIDAD, EL VIDEO ORIGINAL LO ELIMINÉ DE MI GALERÍA
Bueno, esta animación la tenia desde hace tiempo (bueno los dibujos y la idea ejkk) Me resulto chistoso y lo hice con el once-ler :p
Un buen post después de unos meses sin dibujarlo (aunque en realidad este video lo subí hace tiempo en mi tiktok....asi que, aún sigo sin dibujarlo, completamente!!!)
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𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒
𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Bayona believes his shy niece just needs to be surrounded by people close to her age, so he allows her to come along for the filming of his next big movie and one of his actors become taken with the young girl
Warnings: this fic will have warnings as the chapters go, this is an age gap relationship
You were always quiet, shy, and not really put out there since you were consumed with the fear of being humiliated, being shy was what mostly stopped you from common life experiences.
It was why your mom was pushing you at the moment to travel with your uncle, “Amor sería algo bueno para ti, estarías con gente cerca a tu edad” she said and you shook you head “no mami, la verdad no me convence” you sighed
Ever since this whole shy thing got into you, you had gained a handful of activities such as art, whether it was painting or sketching, reading, baking, even needle work which you took the time to learn just to distract you from the real world
You were a college student and focused on school as well so it wasn’t a huge problem when school work and class filled your schedule, “como sabes que no vas a disfrutar esto?” She asked and you gave her a look “mami, yo no conozco a nadie de ahí como voy a nomas llegar?” You asked
She chuckled “amor te juro que esto sería algo muy bueno para ti” she promised and you sighed “bueno bueno nomas una semana y regreso” you said with a slight warning edge in your tone “si corazón si! Deja llamo a tu tío!” You mom had a skip in her step as she went to grab her phone
You knitted your brows in confusion and turned back to the cookies you were baking, there you realized maybe she was right.
You were seated on the plane with your eyes glued to your book and AirPods in your ears, a tactic to keep anyone from speaking to you, you were making way to Spain where filming would take place
Now you were stuck in the airport waiting for your uncle to come and get you, you sat inside of the airports coffee shop drinking a latte and listening to music, you now kinda felt homesick, missed your mom and home
Hands on your shoulders startled you but you calmed down once you saw your uncle standing behind you with a delighted smile on his face, you paused your music and stood up “Tío” you smiled giving him a hug “hola amor como estas?”
“Bien, y tu?” You asked “muy bien, pero vamos amor porque quiero que conoces a todos!” He sounded quite excited for you to meet them, way more excited than you that’s for sure.
He had gotten you both down to where the entire casts was staying, their home for a few months, the hotel was huge and it was also a bit intimidating, how many people stayed here? How long? Would you have to interact with any of them?
Your uncle has someone take care of bringing your bags up but in the meanwhile he led you up the elevator, down the hall and looking at the many numbers of the various doors until you both reached the right one “aquí” he sighed satisfied and scanned the keycard before swinging open the door
“Esto sería tu hogar por unos meses” you cringed a bit at that, you knew you would go home in a week, “esta bien tío,” he nodded “bueno vamos a que conoces a los actores” you gave a protesting look and he chuckled a humorous smile on his lips “vamos” he said with a slight demanding edge in his voice and you sighed following after him
“Este es el lobby privado donde pueden estar juntos y convivir” he showed you a private lobby which was filled with many people, you froze up but tried to keep calm “Chicos!” His voice caught the attention of everyone then their eyes landed on you
“Ven, quiero que conozcan a una persona muy importante” they all walked over and stood in front of you and your uncle “Ella es T/n, mi sobrina y ella nos va a acompañar en esta rodaje” he said and they all smiled at you which you returned to not be rude
“Y espero que todos se comporten bien con ella” he warned almost making you want to run back to your room, it wasn’t their job to take care of you “Si como no” a certain tall guy was the first to answer “Ah perfecto, Mira el es Enzo” he came forward and your breath caught in your throat “Hola” his voice was sweet and not very intimidating “Hola” you let out a small sigh of relief
“Bueno los dejo” you uncle was quick to leave and you looked back to see them all coming towards you “Hola, me llamo Fran” his hand extended towards you and you took it, he looked nice, like the sun in a way, very sunshine like “me llamo Juani, como era que te llamabas?” You forced yourself to speak “T/n”
He nodded “bonito nombre” you smiled shyly “gracias” you were slightly overwhelmed but tried to stay calm, plus they all seemed nice enough, after they all introduced themselves to you, you thought you could sneak off but a hand grabbed yours, you turned to see Alfonsina
“Ven siéntate con nosotros,” you could not say no to the kind girl “bueno, si esta bien” she led you to sit on a couch right in between her and Enzo, “entonces donde creciste?” Alfonsina asked and you looked at her “Barcelona, España Barcelona” you answered and she nodded “y tu?” You managed to ask “Montevideo” she answered and you nodded “escuche que Uruguay es muy lindo” you said and she nodded
“Lo es” you nodded “y tu estudias?” You did actually “Si,” she smiled “Que bueno, y que es lo que estudias?” She asked “estudio biología” she nodded “Que bueno, y vas en persona o lo estas haciendo en línea?” At the time you were doing it online especially since you were here and not where your college was
“Por ahora hago en línea” she nodded “y que te gusta hacer en tu tiempo libre?” She then asked “bueno me gusta hacer arte como pintar, dibujar y también me gusta leer y escuchar música” you felt like she was doing all the talking “y a ti, que te gusta hacer?” You asked “bueno me la paso en el teatro pero también me agrada leer, estar en la música o salir con amigas”
You and Alfonsina passed time just talking and you began to let loose and open up to her, she was really nice and sweet, she was patient and understanding of why you even took a while to start engaging into the conversation
You finally were able to get back to your hotel room and you were proud to have actually been able to hold a conversation with someone, a knock on your door did slightly startle you, walking over and opening it you didn’t expect to find Enzo standing there
“Hola linda” he smiled, you stood like a deer caught in the headlights “Hola” you saw your phone in his hands “lo dejaste en el lobby” he handed it to you and you nodded a small smile on your lips “gracias, de verdad” he nodded “Nada que agradecer linda, vas a desayunar con nosotros mañana verdad?” He asked and your confused face gave away that you had no idea what he was talking about
“En el Lobby nos sirven la comidas y me gustaría si tú nos acompañarás para el desayuno” he said and you nodded, it was all you could do “Si, si como no” you chuckled and he did the same nodding “bueno linda buenas noches, descansa bien” you nodded “tu también, buenas noches
He walked down the hall and you closed the door, you looked down at your almost dead phone and sighed. “Oye la sobrina de Bayona está hermosa” Simón said and Enzo looked over at him “si esta hermosa, pero con respecto es la sobrina” he nudged Simon making Matias and Pipe chuckle
“Oye pero porque crees que ella vino al rodaje?” Pipe asked and Alfonsina sighed “se ve un poco tímida y penosa, pero es muy linda a lo mejor tiene que ver con eso” she shrugged “bueno a lo mejor”
“Le dije que debe de desayunar con nosotros mañana” Enzo said “Buen idea” Matías agreed. They all retreaded to their rooms after their smoke break.
A/n: So not a lot in this chapter but more will come I promise my loves! Also I hope you all enjoy this part and likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated but not required my babies just as long as you enjoy the read, and let me know if you’d like to be tagged!
Taglist: @creative-heart @espinasrubi @castawaycherry @madame-fear @luv4fati
#lsdln cast#esteban kukuriczka#enzo vogrincic#francisco romero#matias recalt#juani caruso#fanfic#alfonsina carrocio#simon hempe#enzo vogrincic fic#enzo vogrincic x reader
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The meting was about to start when sudenly there was a knot in the winsows of the fuking space watchtower.
There on large cold space vacum was a pair of twins with a large baner.
"Can we go in? We have presents
Btw. Flash, stop mesing with thr timeline for a coffy, also WW, we are cousin via ghost adoption."
And after a moment they turned around the baner.
"CONSTANITINE! WE HAVE YOUR SOUL! YOU CAN HAVE IT BACK FOR THE LITTLE PRICE OF A SAFE PLACE TO SLEEP!"-Phantom/s
You can gues the kind of chaos that exploded once that last sentence was readed.
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guilty as sin?
mark x reader angst wc 969
n/a: 12:30 de uma quinta porque sim! é curtinho, mas é intenso e eu não consegui parar de pensar no mark ouvindo essa música.
Drowning in the Blue Nile He sent me Downtown Lights I hadn't heard it in a while My boredom's bone deep This cage was once just fine Am I allowed to cry?
— Você não pode chorar. — diz ao próprio reflexo no espelho, fungando enquanto ouve o tom de voz sair num misto de raiva e culpa.
Há meses você se sente entediada. O namoro que antes era o motivo da sua alegria, dos elogios constantes sobre a luz que te envolvia, agora tem grades e se assemelha a uma prisão.
— Claro que pode chorar. — Chenle responde com pena, mirando sua figura enquanto se escora na parede. — Não é como se você não estivesse tentando.
Está mesmo tentando com todo esforço salvar o que tem com Mark?
Apenas ao mencioná-lo uma lágrima grossa molha sua bochecha novamente. Como se pudesse sentir que estava pensando nele, uma notificação te acorda por um instante, ele havia enviado um link.
Markie: se lembra dessa música? Markie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tNgSwtRqLmg Markie: toquei pra vc no carro uma vez
Obviamente se lembra, era impossível esquecer.
Devia ser o décimo encontro naquele mês, o sol estava prestes a pintar o céu novamente quando Mark ligou o rádio do carro e conectou sua conta no spotify, revelando a playlist No Repeat.
— Lembrei que você gosta dessa vibe, não consigo parar de ouvir essa. — ele confessa num sussurro charmoso entre os selinhos preguiçosos que viravam beijos longos sem que pudessem evitar. — Não paro de pensar em você. — revela ao passo que o amanhecer desponta na praia escondida.
Mark sabia exatamente o que estava fazendo desde o início, ele te conquistou completamente. Cada palavra, cada beijo, cada abraço era intencional porque ele te queria mais do que tudo.
What if he's written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind? One slip, I'm falling back into the hedge maze, oh, what a way to die I keep recalling things we never did Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our tryst Without ever touching his skin How can I be guilty as sin?
Por muito tempo, você e Mark tentaram esconder o que tinham, até que ficou insuportável esconder. Haechan descobriu primeiro porque flagrou os dois juntos no apartamento que dividiam perto do trabalho, justo no dia em que percebeu o quão fora de si a paixão por Lee havia te deixado.
Era um final de semana no inverno, a grande maioria dos amigos havia viajado para passar o final de ano com as famílias, o que criou a oportunidade perfeita para que ficassem mais tempos juntos.
Enquanto ele ainda dormia, você resolveu adiantar alguns processos do que teria de entregar no escritório após a semana de recesso da estação.
— Você vai me dar atenção ou é só esse projeto que merece? — a voz sonolenta e manhosa dele desvia seu foco e não dá para evitar uma risadinha que escapa entre seus lábios gelados de frio.
Levantando-se, fecha o notebook que fora sua companhia durante o cochilo da tarde do garoto e se aninha em seus braços. Mark ri de algo que você nem desconfia o que é, mas se permite contagiar, alargando o sorriso no próprio rosto.
— O que foi?
— Você esqueceu isso aqui. — segurando a tampa da caneta com as pontas dos dedos de uma das mãos, Lee desfaz o coque que prendia seu cabelo. Ainda sorrindo, ele te mostra o objeto, balançando-o com facilidade na frente do seu rosto. — Tive uma ideia…
— Ah não… isso nunca é bom.
Superficialmente ofendido, ele belisca a lateral do seu abdômen, arrancando um gritinho surpreso de você. Por um momento, entretanto, Mark parece pensar. Ele inspeciona cada parte do seu corpo antes de parecer se lembrar de algo importante.
— Cê não tinha dito que queria uma tatuagem na coxa?
Assim que afirmou com a cabeça vagarosamente, já prevendo qual seria a tal ideia do namorado, sentiu o short de pijama ser levantado até o osso do quadril. Um arrepio percorreu a extensão da pele, mas não pelo frio, e sim pelo beijo carinhoso de Mark bem no topo da coxa.
Você assiste com o coração acelerado quando ele destampa a caneta e escreve graciosamente na mesma área que beijara segundos antes. A caligrafia um pouco bagunçada, porém caprichosa, deixou a mensagem ‘minha’ em tinta permanente sob o olhar orgulhoso do garoto.
— Mark… — o peito estava pequeno demais para o batimento insano que incomodava seus ouvidos.
— Gostou?
Sem palavras, a única coisa que consegue dar como resposta é um beijo. Você envolve o lábio superior de Mark com os seus pela diferença de altura, sentindo-o derreter ao seu toque. Ele se ajeita, se senta ao seu lado e, sem jamais interromper o carinho, te traz para o colo para te beijar com urgência. Ali, naquele exato momento, você soube: amavam-se perdidamente.
Am I allowed to cry?
— Se você terminar, acha que vai se arrepender? — Chenle pergunta, já quase indo embora porque Mark estava à caminho, você havia respondido sua mensagem com um convite para que se encontrassem.
— Não sei, Lele… — fungando, responde o melhor amigo. — Não sei se tenho coragem, mas eu também me sinto presa…
— Falar isso pra ele seria muito ruim?
— Eu não quero machucar ele. — declara em lágrimas novamente, mas precisa se controlar. Se Mark desconfiasse que estivesse chorando, não conseguiria mentir caso te perguntasse o motivo.
— E vai se machucar até quando?
Vocês ouvem o barulho do carro no lado de fora, e Chenle entende como sua deixa. No mesmo segundo que o amigo abre a porta, Mark já estava de pé ali, o rosto cheio de esperança, completamente alheio ao seu sofrimento. Observando os cumprimentos amigáveis dos dois, você só pensa em uma coisa: não está preparada para quebrar o coração de quem já foi o amor da sua vida.
#nct pt br#nct scenarios#nct dream scenarios#nct 127 scenarios#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#nct 127 fluff#mark scenarios#mark fluff#mark x reader#mark angst#nct angst#nct 127 angst#nct dream angst#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct 127 x reader
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