#or my heart will swell and explode.

[theganymedes]

if you ever see me having a three page long internal monologue socratic seminar ted talk video essay breakdown discussion post in someone’s reblogs, just know that you should read that story expeditiously.

[novasjaneway]

Thinking about this, both janeway and seven traveled back in time to save each other and that has got to be the most romantic ride or die relationship on voyager, both willing to die for each other too

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　CAR CRASH

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where an amazing date night leads to a devastating car accident, leaving Y/N severely injured and Matt hospitalized and feeling extremely guilt.

WARNING: Car crash, blood, gore (nothing too extreme), mentions of surgery and death.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by an anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧���　༻✦༺

The night had been perfect. The kind of night that made Matt wish he could bottle up every second and live it over and over again. As they cruised down the road, Y/N’s laughter filled the car, bubbling up with a joy that made his heart swell. He stole a quick glance at her, unable to resist the smile tugging at his lips as he watched her eyes crinkle at the corners.

It was all almost too serene. The road was deserted, stretching ahead like a long, winding ribbon through the dense forest. Trees lined both sides, their dark silhouettes swaying gently in the cool breeze. The glow from the dashboard lights bathed Matt’s face in a soft blue hue, highlighting the way his jaw clenched whenever he concentrated on the road.

Matt’s hand rested gently on Y/N’s thigh, fingers intertwined with hers. The music in the background was just soft enough to allow their conversation to drift through the air. Their fingers were laced together like they had been for years, her thumb softly brushing over the back of his hand in a way that always sent a thrill through him.

"You know." Y/N started, turning to look at him with that familiar, teasing sparkle in her eyes. "I still can’t believe you almost choked on that dessert tonight."

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"Hey, those strawberries were huge, okay? It’s not my fault they didn’t fit in my mouth." Matt chuckled, his voice low and slightly raspy as he lifted her hand to press a soft kiss to her knuckles.

"Sure, that’s what she said." She quipped, sending a playful wink towards the brunette.

His laughter echoed through the car, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

"Hey, babe, we should-"

But before he could finish his sentence, Y/N's heart jumped to her throat as she noticed something.

"Matt!" Y/N’s scream pierced the air like needles.

Matt’s heart seized, his veins flooded with pure adrenaline. The world seemed to slow down, the seconds stretching into infinity as he turned his eyes from Y/N to the approaching car. It was swerving uncontrollably, zigzagging across the two-lane road, headlights blinding and erratic.

Panic gripped him like a vice. His instincts kicked in, hands flying to the steering wheel as he yanked it to the right with all his strength, desperate to avoid a head-on collision. The tires screamed in protest, the smell of burning rubber filling the car as the vehicle veered off the asphalt, gravel spraying against the undercarriage like bullets.

The seatbelt bit into his chest, and Matt let out a guttural grunt as the force of the swerve tried to rip him sideways.

"Hold on!" He shouted, the words raw and choked with fear.

But there was no time to process, no time to think. In the chaos, Matt’s vision narrowed to a tunnel. He could barely make out the blur of trees and darkness as the car skidded off the road. The other car blazed past them, its horn blaring like a scream of rage, disappearing into the night as if it had never been there.

Matt’s heart hammered in his chest, every beat like a drum of dread. He tried to correct the car’s course, but it seemed to be impossible with the velocity of it, and the steering wheel slipped under his frantic grip. The headlights illuminated nothing but shadows and thick trees ahead, and before he could even register what was happening, the world exploded into chaos.

The impact was instant. The front of the car crumpled like a tin can as it collided with the tree, the force of the crash sending them both jolting forward. Y/N’s scream was cut short as her side of the car bore the brunt of the crash, the airbags exploding around them in a cloud of powder.

Everything went black.

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A few seconds - or maybe minutes, Matt couldn’t tell - passed before he came to. The first thing he noticed was the sharp, metallic taste of blood in his mouth, his head throbbing like it was being split open. His vision was blurred, darkness and flashing colors swirling together as he tried to blink them away.

"Y/N..." He croaked, his voice barely a whisper. Panic seized his chest like a vice grip as he turned his head, trying to see her through the haze. "Y/N!"

She was slumped against her seat, her head tilted unnaturally to the side, blood smeared across her forehead where she’d hit the window.

"No, no, no, no!" Matt’s voice came out in a broken sob as he reached for her, his hands trembling violently. Pain shot through his ribs with every movement, but he ignored it, his vision blurred with tears. "Y/N! Wake up, please, wake up!"

But she didn’t move.

"C'mon, please. Please- fucking shit!"

He could barely breathe, his chest tightening as though an invisible hand was crushing his lungs. Warm blood trickled down his temple, but he barely noticed it. All he could focus on was Y/N, slumped lifelessly beside him.

"What do I do? What do I do?" His bloody hands flew to his head, smearing it all around his skin. "An ambulance, I need-need to call an ambulance."

His trembling fingers fumbled with his phone, hands slick with blood and sweat, and his vision blurred with tears. He couldn’t think straight; everything was a whirlpool of noise, pain, and terror. As he finally managed to dial 911, he searched for Y/N hand, squeezing the cold, unmoving member, his other hand shaking so hard it almost dropped the phone.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Matt could hardly get the words out, his throat so tight it felt like he was being strangled.

"We-we've been in an accident! Oh god, please- please help us! I... I don’t know what to do!"

His voice was a broken sob, the words tumbling out in a chaotic rush, barely coherent. He was gasping for breath, panic clawing at him with icy fingers. He kept glancing at Y/N, hoping, praying that she would suddenly move or blink or give any sign that she was okay. But she was too still, her face shining with blood, eyes closed, and her chest...

He couldn't even tell if it was moving.

"Okay, sir, I need you to try to stay calm. Where are you? Can you give me your location?"

Matt’s mind was spinning, the world around him a dark blur. He tried to remember where they were, but it was like every thought was slipping through his fingers.

"Uh- I, I don’t know! Somewhere near... near Elm and... I think we’re by a park or something. There’s glass everywhere, and- she's not... she’s not waking up!"

As he spoke, Matt’s voice cracked again, his words coming out in choked sobs. His free hand kept shaking Y/N’s shoulder, trying to rouse her, to pull her back to him.

"Alright, I’ve got your location. Help is on the way. Sir, I need you to focus for a moment. Is anyone else in the car with you?"

Matt’s voice broke into a desperate wail.

"Yes, yes, it’s my girlfriend. She-she’s not moving! I tried to wake her, but... but she’s just lying there, and she’s bleeding. Oh god, there’s so much blood!"

He couldn’t stop his crying, his entire body shaking as if he were freezing. Maybe he was.

"Okay, I understand. Help is on its way, I promise. But I need you to check if she’s breathing. Can you see if she’s taking any breaths?"

Matt let out a strangled noise, almost animalistic, as he leaned back to try to see. His hands were unsteady and he wiped furiously at his eyes to clear his vision. He leaned closer to her, straining to see if her chest was rising, but everything was too dark and chaotic.

"I-I can’t tell! I’m trying, but she’s not moving! Please, just help her!" His voice rose to a scream at the end, cracking under the weight of his despair.

"We're doing everything we can, sir. You’re doing great, okay? Just stay with me. Take a deep breath. I need you to look at her chest. Is it rising and falling, even a little?"

Matt tried. He really tried. But all he could see was blood. Blood on her eyes, her lips, her collarbone. He could barely make out her features through the darkness and the horror of what was happening.

"I don’t know, I don’t know!" He cried, his voice breaking into another sob. "It’s too dark, and her hair- there’s so much blood on her face. I’m scared to move her, I don’t want to hurt her more! Y/N, baby, come on. Please, don’t leave me." He begged, his voice raw with desperation.

He reached for his own seatbelt, fingers fumbling as he tried to undo the latch, but it was jammed. Tears blurred his vision constantly, frustration and fear boiling over as he yanked at it, the metal digging into his palms.

When the seatbelt finally gave way, he turned his attention back to her face.

"I’m here, I’m here." He whispered, pressing frantic kisses to her forehead, ignoring the cold of her skin and the taste of blood hitting his tongue. "I’m not leaving you, okay? Just stay with me."

"You’re doing the right thing by staying with her, sir." Their voice made him remember that he was still with the call on-going. "Just keep talking to her, alright? I know it’s hard, but you need to stay calm for her. What’s her name?"

Her name. God, her name was everything. It was the first thing he thought of when he woke up and the last thing on his mind before he fell asleep. He let out a shuddering breath.

"Y/N... Her name’s Y/N." He whispered, his voice raw. He cradled her face with his free hand, gently brushing the blood-streaked strands of hair away. "She’s so cold. Why is she so cold?"

"Y/N is going to be okay, sir. We’re sending an ambulance to you right now. I need you to tell me: are you hurt? Are you bleeding anywhere?"

Matt’s mind was short-circuiting, the edges of his vision tinged with black spots. But he couldn’t focus on himself. He couldn’t care less if he was bleeding or broken.

"N-No, I’m fine. It’s just her. She-she hit her head so hard." His voice broke into a whisper at the end, as if saying it too loudly would make it more real.

"I understand. But you might not realize you’re hurt because of the adrenaline. Can you check if you’re bleeding or if you feel any pain?"

Matt’s eyes darted frantically between his phone and Y/N. He couldn’t think about himself, couldn’t even process what they were asking.

"I told you, I’m fine!" He screamed into the phone, his voice cracking with a desperate fury. "I’m fine! It’s Y/N! Just... please save her! She’s... she’s everything. I can’t-" His words broke off into a series of harsh, broken sobs.

"I hear you, and I promise we're doing everything we can. Help is almost there, okay?"

Matt nodded frantically, even though they couldn’t see him. He clung to Y/N’s hand like a lifeline, pressing it to his lips, whispering her name over and over.

"Please, baby, stay with me... Please. You’re so strong. You can get through this. Just keep breathing for me, okay? Please..."

Outside, the wailing sirens grew louder, the red and blue lights flashing through the shattered windows of the car.

"Please... don’t leave me." He whispered one last time, the sound of his door being ripped open sounding muffled before the darkness around him finally swallowed him whole.

The last thing he felt was Y/N’s cold hand slipping from his grasp as the world went dark.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

A slow, rhythmic beeping was the first thing Matt became aware of as he drifted back into consciousness. His eyelids were heavy, as if weighed down by invisible anchors, and when he finally managed to pry them open, his vision was blurred, everything around him a hazy mix of white and blue. The smell of antiseptic stung his nostrils, making his head spin, and the low hum of machinery filled the air.

Matt blinked, trying to clear the fog from his mind. The room was dim, a soft light glowing from a corner lamp, casting long shadows across the pale walls.

There was an IV taped to his arm, the clear tube connected to a bag hanging from a metal pole beside the bed. His body felt like it had been crushed, every breath sending a dull throb through his ribs.

It hurt to move, but he turned his head slowly, trying to get his bearings. That’s when he noticed the figure slumped in an uncomfortable-looking position on a small armchair near the bed.

Chris.

His brother was fast asleep, his face drawn with exhaustion, dark circles etched beneath his eyes. The armchair seemed to have been pushed so close to the bed that it almost touched it, like Chris had wanted to stay as close to him as possible.

Matt’s mind was sluggish, like wading through thick mud. He couldn't remember how he’d ended up here. Why was he in a hospital? What had happened?

As he lay there, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory, a flash of vivid color cut through the fog like a lightning bolt; Y/N’s face, pale and covered in blood, slumped in the seat next to him.

The memory hit him like a truck, and suddenly everything came rushing back at once: the crash, the panic, the desperate phone call. Y/N’s lifeless body beside him.

"Y/N!" The name ripped out of his throat, raw and broken.

Adrenaline flooded his veins, pushing away the pain as panic seized him. He tried to sit up, ignoring the sharp agony that shot through his side and the dizziness that made his head sway. The only thought in his mind was finding her, making sure she was okay. He had to see her. He had to know if she was still-

His hands scrambled at the IV taped to his arm, trying to yank it free.

"No, no, no... C'mon, I need to find her!" He gasped, his voice frantic and uneven. His vision blurred with tears, anxiety closing in like a vice around his chest.

Chris woke with a sudden start, his eyes snapping open. For a split second, he was disoriented, but then he saw Matt struggling on the bed, clawing at the IV line.

"Matt! Hey, stop. Stop!" Chris practically leaped from the couch, crossing the short distance to his brother in a heartbeat.

Matt barely registered Chris’s presence.

"Let go of me! I need to find her!" His voice was wild, a desperate, guttural scream. He shoved at Chris with what little strength he had, the effort sending another stab of pain through his ribs, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was Y/N. She was out there somewhere, alone, hurt. He had to get to her.

Chris’s heart twisted painfully at the sight of his brother in such a state. He grabbed Matt’s hands, trying to stop him from tearing the IV out.

"Matt, listen to me! You need to calm down!" His voice was steady, but there was an edge of panic in it, fear for both Matt’s physical and mental state.

He pushed the call button for the doctor frantically, knowing they needed help, now.

Matt was beyond reason. He was sobbing, his voice breaking as he shouted like crazy.

"Get off me, Chris! Please, I have to find her! Y/N- where is she? Where’s Y/N?!" He thrashed against Chris’s grip, raw terror coursing through him. His mind was a whirlwind of worst-case scenarios, each one more terrifying than the last.

Chris used every ounce of strength he had to pin Matt’s hands down against the bed, his fingers digging into Matt’s wrists. He leaned in close, his face inches from Matt’s, forcing him to make eye contact.

"Matt, you need to stop!" He shouted, his voice cracking. "Listen to me, please! Nick is with her, and they’re taking care of her! You have to stay here and let them help you, okay? You’re hurt, too!"

But it was like Matt couldn’t even hear him.

"No, no, no! She’s not okay, she wasn’t moving! I need to see her, Chris! Let me go!" His screams were hoarse, filled with a raw, primal agony that tore at Chris’s heart.

Before Chris could say anything else, the door burst open, and a doctor, along with two nurses, rushed in, their expressions tense and focused.

"What’s going on?" The doctor demanded as she approached the bed, her gaze flicking between the brothers.

"He’s trying to rip the IV out." Chris said breathlessly, his voice shaking. "Please, he won’t calm down!"

The doctor nodded sharply, gesturing to one of the nurses.

"We need to sedate him before he injures himself further."

"No!" Matt screamed, thrashing even harder against Chris’s grip. "Don’t you dare! I need to find Y/N!" His voice was broken, desperate, his eyes wide and filled with terror.

Chris's hands tightened around Matt’s, holding him down as the nurse prepared a syringe. Tears streamed down Matt’s face, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

He was looking at Chris with an expression so lost, so utterly heartbroken, it nearly broke Chris, too.

"Matt, listen to me." Chris pleaded, his own voice breaking. "She’s going to be okay. But you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t stop. I promise, I promise I’ll take you to her as soon as they say it’s okay. But you have to calm down, okay? Please, Matt..."

Matt’s eyes were wild, searching Chris’s for any sign of a lie, any hint that he was just trying to placate him. But Chris’s face was so full of anguish, so full of love and sincerity, that Matt’s resolve wavered for a moment.

The nurse took advantage of that brief second of hesitation, quickly inserting the needle into Matt’s IV line. Within seconds, the sedative began to take effect. Matt’s thrashing slowed, his screams dying down to broken sobs as the world around him began to blur again.

"No... Chris, please... It was my fault... Y/N..." Matt’s voice was barely a whisper now, his eyelids drooping as the drug pulled him under. The last thing he saw was Chris’s tear-streaked face, mouthing something he couldn’t quite hear before the darkness swallowed him whole.

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The darkness that had pulled Matt under before slowly began to recede, but this time, it was different. Darkness enveloped him in a terrifying nightmare, pulling him under like the tide dragging him out to sea.

He was back in the car. The smell of gasoline and blood was suffocating, the crunch of broken glass grinding beneath his legs as he struggled to move. Y/N was next to him, her face ghostly pale, her eyes closed, blood streaming down her forehead and pooling beneath her. Her body lay limp, lifeless against the car seat, and no matter how many times he screamed her name, she didn't stir.

"... Y/N, please! Wake up!" Matt’s voice was raw, his throat burning with the force of his screams. He shook her shoulder frantically, his fingers slick with blood. "No, no, no... please, Y/N, don’t do this to me!" But she remained still, her head slumped to the side, blood trickling down her delicate features.

The world around him was spinning, the sound of sirens in the distance growing louder, yet somehow they never seemed to get closer. His breaths were short, and frantic gasps as he clutched at Y/N, his tears falling onto her lifeless body.

"God, no! Please!" He was breaking, unraveling, his heart tearing apart as he held her close, praying for a miracle that wouldn’t come.

"Matt!"

The voice was distant at first, barely cutting through the thick haze of his panic. But it grew louder, more urgent, like a beacon trying to pierce through the storm in his mind.

"Matt! Come on, wake up!"

But Matt couldn’t make sense of it. His eyes were still glued to Y/N’s lifeless form, his hands desperately trying to stop the flow of blood, his heart shattering with each second that passed. The voice was there again, louder this time, sounding so familiar, so achingly real.

"Matt, it’s okay. You're safe. Matt, listen to me!"

The scene in front of him wavered, flickering like a glitch in a broken film reel. The wrecked car, the blood, Y/N’s unmoving body; all of it seemed to blur, like someone was tearing the nightmare apart at its seams. Matt blinked, his vision shifting between the nightmare and something else. A figure - blurred, indistinct - hovered above him. He could hear that voice again, so much clearer now, so desperate and familiar.

"Y/N?" Matt’s voice was a hoarse whisper, his eyes darting around frantically. But his mind was still caught between the nightmare and reality. He could feel Y/N’s cold body beneath his fingers, could see her blood staining his hands. "No, please! Don’t let her die! God, please, don’t take her from me!" His voice broke into anguished sobs, raw and heart-wrenching, as he pleaded into the darkness.

The figure above him froze, and then, in an instant, arms wrapped around him. Matt was pulled into a tight embrace, warmth pressing against his trembling body.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here. Matt, it’s me. You’re safe." Chris’s voice was thick with emotion, his own tears spilling as he held Matt close.

The youngest dropped to his knees beside the hospital bed, leaning over Matt’s shaking form, one arm cradling the back of his head as he tried to bring him back from the brink.

"Shhh, it’s okay, Matt. Y/N is okay. I promise you, she’s alive. It was just a nightmare." Chris whispered desperately into Matt’s ear, his grip tightening when he felt his brother’s body shake with gut-wrenching sobs. He rocked them both slightly, his own chest heaving as he tried to keep it together for Matt’s sake. "I’ve got you, alright? I’m right here. She’s okay. I swear."

But Matt couldn’t process the words. His mind was still stuck in that twisted nightmare, where Y/N was cold and still beneath his hands, where he’d failed to protect her.

"No, no... I have to get to her." He choked out, struggling weakly in Chris’s arms. "I can’t lose her... I can’t..."

"Matt." Chris said more firmly, his voice breaking. He pulled back just enough to look Matt in the eyes, his hands cupping Matt’s face, thumbs brushing away the tears streaming down his cheeks. "Listen to me. You’re not in the car anymore. You’re in the hospital. Y/N is okay. She’s being taken care of. She’s safe."

Chris’s words were slowly, agonizingly, starting to sink in. Matt’s sobs grew softer, his breaths still ragged and uneven, but the desperate thrashing stopped. He could feel the warmth of Chris’s body, the steady pressure of his hands holding him down, grounding him in the present. The nightmare was slipping away, reality clawing its way back into his consciousness.

Matt’s fingers, which had been gripping Chris’s shirt with bruising force, gradually loosened. He blinked, his vision clearing enough to see the hospital room around him. The blinding lights, the beeping machines, the sterile scent, all of it slowly registered, pulling him further away from the nightmare’s grip.

"Chris...?" Matt’s voice was small, broken, like a lost child. His wide, tear-filled eyes searched Chris’s, looking for confirmation that this wasn’t another twisted dream.

"Yes, it’s me." Chris whispered, his forehead pressing against Matt’s. "You’re safe. I’ve got you."

Matt collapsed into Chris’s arms, his body going limp with exhaustion. The adrenaline that had kept him going drained away, leaving him weak and trembling. He buried his face in Chris’s shoulder, his hands clutching at his brother’s back like a lifeline.

"I thought... I thought I lost her..." He sobbed, his voice muffled and choked. "I couldn’t... I can’t lose her, Chris..."

"I know, I know." Chris murmured, tears streaming down his own face as he held his brother tighter, laying his cheek above his head. "But she’s alive. She’s okay. And you’re okay. We’re all here, Matt. You’re safe."

Slowly, so slowly, Matt’s sobs began to quiet. His breathing evened out, but that only brought the pain to control. Each breath sent a jolt through his bruised ribs. His head throbbed, the pain pulsing behind his eyes, and his skin was clammy with cold sweat. He shivered, his body exhausted and aching, but he let himself lean into Chris’s embrace, the warmth of his brother’s presence keeping him grounded.

Chris continued to murmur soothing words, his hands rubbing circles on Matt’s shoulder, trying to calm the tremors that still wracked his brother’s body.

"You’re okay, Matt. You’re safe. I’ve got you."

Matt let out a shaky breath, his body finally beginning to relax, the nightmare fading further into the recesses of his mind, the steady rhythm of Chris’s heartbeat against his ear helping to calm the storm inside him.

For the first time since waking, Matt felt like he could breathe again. He was still in pain, his body battered and broken, but Chris’s comforting presence kept him anchored, keeping him from slipping back into that dark abyss.

"Can... can you call me the doctor?" Matt whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible.

"Are you feeling pain?" Chris asked worriedly, receiving a small nod as an answer. "Okay."

Chris brushed back the damp hair on Matt's forehead while pressing his free hand against the red button.

"Chris." Matt croaked out again. "Y/N... how is she?"

His younger brother's face crumpled, and he let out a shaky breath. He looked away for a moment, trying to collect himself before turning back to Matt.

"She... she was in surgery." He said quietly, every word seeming to cost him. "Nick told me... she had internal bleeding, and they had to go in to stop it. She hit her head super hard, too. But... the surgery went well. She’s stable now and probably still asleep."

Matt’s heart shattered at those words, a cold, sick feeling twisting in his stomach. Internal bleeding. Surgery. Y/N had gone through so much, and it was all because he couldn’t control his own damn car. If he had just been paying attention... He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as he struggled to hold back the tears.

"Can I... can I maybe see her?" He asked, his voice so small, so broken, it almost didn’t sound like his own.

Chris stared at him for long seconds, his eyes searching Matt’s face, like he was trying to read the thoughts swirling in his mind. And maybe he could see it. Maybe he could sense the guilt that was eating Matt alive. But Chris didn’t press him. Instead, he sighed heavily, searching for his hands and stopping him from hurting himself further.

"The doctor is the one who has to let you." He whispered, biting his bottom lip hard. "You know... I was really scared, Matt. I thought... I thought I was going to lose you forever."

Matt watched the pain swimming inside Chris's blue eyes.

"I’m sorry, Chris." He muttered, his voice cracking. "I’m really sorry for scaring you. You and Nick."

Chris looked down at him, his eyes shining with tears, and shook his head.

"No, Matt... no, it’s not your fault." He said, his voice fierce despite the tears. "I just... I’m just so glad you’re here. That you’re alive."

Matt swallowed hard, his throat tight. He didn’t deserve Chris’s relief, not when Y/N was still out there, hurt because of him.

Before he could say anything else, the sound of the door creaking open echoed, and a doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand. Behind her were two nurses, ready to assist with whatever was needed.

Dr. Patel, a middle-aged woman with gentle eyes, gave Matt a small, reassuring smile as she approached his bedside.

"Good to see you awake and calmer, Mr. Sturniolo. How are you feeling?" She asked, her tone soft yet businesslike.

Matt swallowed, his throat dry and raw from the crying.

"I... I’m in pain." He admitted hoarsely, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Everywhere."

Chris squeezed his hand reassuringly before turning to the doctor.

"Is there something more you can give him for the pain?" Chris asked, his voice thick with concern.

Dr. Patel nodded, her expression turning more serious as she flipped through the pages on her clipboard.

"We’ve been managing his pain with a mild dosage to avoid any complications, but given that he's more conscious now, we can adjust his medication." She gestured to one of the nurses, who immediately set about preparing a new injection.

Matt’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he tried to focus on breathing through the pain. Each inhale felt like it was slicing through his ribs, the weight of his guilt and worry making it even harder to catch his breath.

"Doctor, can... can I see her? Y/N, I mean... please." He pleaded, reopening his eyes before looking at her.

Dr. Patel paused, her gaze softening as she looked at him.

"Let’s take care of your pain first, Matt." She said kindly, her voice a steady anchor in the chaos. "I promise, as soon as you are stable enough, we’ll let you see her."

The nurse approached with the syringe, and Matt turned his head away, too drained to watch as she injected the painkiller into his IV. Moments later, a cooling sensation spread through his veins, slowly dulling the sharp edges of his agony, but it did nothing to ease the turmoil inside him.

As the medication began to work, Matt’s eyelids grew heavier, but he fought against the sleep that threatened to pull him under.

"I'm fine now... please." He begged, his voice wavering. "I'm fine, I need to see her. I... I have to make sure that she’s okay." His breath came in shallow, slow gasps, and his eyes darted to Chris, silently pleading for help.

Chris stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Matt’s shoulder.

"Hey, hey." He whispered, trying to soothe his brother. "Let the doctor decide if you're stable enough, okay? I promise you’ll see her soon."

Matt shook his head stubbornly, the panic still clawing at his chest.

"I promise that I'm feeling okay now, m-my pain is gone." His words sounded slurred, his eyes blinking slowly while trying to keep himself awake, looking at the doctor with determination.

Dr. Patel’s face softened as she listened to Matt’s broken pleas. The room was quiet for a minute, save for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. She glanced at Chris, who was holding his brother’s shoulder tightly, as if trying to anchor him to the present moment.

"Please... I have to see her." He whispered again, the words more of a gasp now. "I just... I need to know she’s really okay."

The doctor sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She understood his desperation, his need to see Y/N with his own eyes. It was a common reaction, patients often believed that seeing their loved ones would somehow confirm their survival would make it more real. And judging by the fear and panic still etched into Matt’s face, this was something he desperately needed.

Dr. Patel turned to the nurse beside her, exchanging a brief, silent conversation before she turned back to the brothers.

"Alright." She said finally, her tone gentle but firm. "We can take you to her room, Matt... but only if you’re in a wheelchair. You’re still recovering yourself, and moving around too much could set back your progress."

Chris’s head whipped toward the doctor, a glimmer of hope lighting up his tired eyes.

"Wait... you mean... he can see her?"

"Yes, but only for a few minutes." Dr. Patel clarified. "And he must stay seated. We’ll have to monitor him closely."

Matt’s entire body seemed to sag in relief at her words. He would have agreed to any condition at that moment if it meant seeing Y/N, even if it was just for a second.

"Yes... yes, please. I’ll stay in the wheelchair. I promise." He breathed, the frantic edge to his voice slowly easing into something softer, more hopeful.

Chris nodded gratefully at the doctor, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"Thank you." He whispered, his voice thick. He turned to Matt, squeezing his brother’s shoulder. "Okay, Matt... just breathe, alright? We’re gonna see her."

The nurse quickly wheeled in a padded, adjustable wheelchair. Chris helped Matt shift carefully from the hospital bed into the seat, wincing with every grimace of pain that crossed Matt’s face. Matt tried to hide it, but his stiff movements and shallow breaths were enough to betray just how much he was still hurting. Once seated, Matt clutched the arms of the chair with white knuckles, willing his trembling legs to steady.

Chris crouched in front of him, locking eyes with Matt.

"Are you sure you’re good to go?" Chris asked softly, his voice laced with concern. "If you start to feel worse, we can turn back, okay?"

"No." Matt said quickly, shaking his head even though the motion made him dizzy. "I need to see her, Chris. I won’t... I can’t rest until I know she’s a-alive." His voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper now, but it carried a weight that cut Chris to his core.

The small entourage - Matt, Chris, the doctor, and a nurse - began their slow journey down the fluorescent-lit corridor. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, and the occasional sound of distant monitors and hushed conversations drifted from other rooms. Chris stayed beside the wheelchair, his hand on Matt’s shoulder the whole time, a steadying presence as they moved.

Matt’s heart was a wild drum in his chest, each turn of the hallway only ratcheting up his anxiety. He felt like he was caught in a nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from, the fear that he might find Y/N still and lifeless on a hospital bed eating away at him.

Finally, they stopped outside a door marked with Y/N’s name on a small placard. Dr. Patel turned to Matt, giving him one last assessing look.

"Remember, just a few minutes." She reminded him gently. "She’s stable but still heavily sedated. It might be a while before she wakes up."

Matt nodded, barely hearing her as his eyes locked on the door. Chris leaned down to give his shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before opening it. The soft creak of the door seemed to echo through Matt’s mind, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet hallway.

As they wheeled him inside, Matt’s breath hitched. There she was, his Y/N, lying so still in the bed, surrounded by machines that beeped and hummed softly, tubes and wires connected to her fragile form. Her face was pale, bandaged in places, and her chest rose and fell in the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. But she was breathing. She was alive.

Before his eyes could drink in every detail of her condition, his attention was pulled to another figure in the room.

Nick.

Nick’s head shot up at the sound of the door, his eyes widening in surprise. Relief washed over his face, softening the lines of exhaustion and worry that had been etched there. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his hair disheveled, eyes red-rimmed.

"Matt." Nick breathed, his voice trembling with emotion.

He quickly crossed the room in a few long strides, his eyes scanning his brother’s face like he couldn’t quite believe he was awake and here in front of him. Without a word, he dropped to his knees beside the wheelchair, wrapping his arms around Matt in a tight, desperate hug.

"Oh God, Matt." Nick’s voice cracked as he held on tight, as though letting go would make this moment disappear. "I thought we lost you... I thought..."

Matt weakly lifted one arm, patting his brother’s back as best as he could manage.

"I’m okay." He whispered hoarsely, though the pain in his body begged to differ. "I’m here, Nick... I’m here."

Nick pulled back, his eyes shining with tears, but he quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand.

"You have no idea how scared we were, Matt... but God, I’m so glad you’re awake."

Chris, standing close by, put a comforting hand on Nick’s shoulder, giving him a small, reassuring squeeze.

"He’s okay, Nick. We’re okay." Chris murmured, nodding assuredly.

The doctor and nurse patiently waited for the brothers to have their moment before gently nudging the wheelchair forward.

"Let’s get you closer to her, Matt." Dr. Patel said softly.

As they wheeled Matt to Y/N’s bedside, all the noise of the hospital seemed to fade away. All he could hear was the soft, steady beep of the machines monitoring her vitals.

Matt’s eyes welled up with tears as he took in her pale face, the bruises peeking out from under the bandages on her forehead and the soft rise and fall of her chest.

He reached out with a trembling hand, his fingers brushing against hers. Her skin was cool to the touch, and a sob tore through him. Without hesitation, he leaned forward, bringing her hand to his lips. He kissed her knuckles softly, over and over again, his lips lingering on every bruise and scrape he could see.

"I’m so sorry." He whispered, his voice raw with anguish. "I’m so, so sorry, my love. Please... please forgive me. I love you so much, Y/N. I need you. You have to wake up soon. Please."

He kept pressing gentle kisses to her hand, his tears slipping down and wetting her skin. His heart ached in ways he never thought possible, the guilt eating him alive. This was his fault. If only he had been more careful...

Nick watched silently, his own eyes filled with tears, and Chris had to turn away for a moment, pressing a fist to his mouth to stifle a sob. The sight of their brother - usually so composed - completely broken over the woman he loved was almost too much to bear.

Finally, Matt’s strength gave out. His body, already weakened and worn from the medication, was quickly reaching its limit. He slowly leaned forward, resting his head gently on the edge of Y/N’s bed, his cheek pressed close to her hip. He stayed there, clinging to her like she was his lifeline, his breaths coming in soft gasps as he struggled to stay conscious.

"I’m here, Y/N... I’m right here." He whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "I won’t leave you... I promise."

The pain was slowly fading, his body seeming to finally allow the medication to work its way through his system. Matt’s eyes grew heavier, his body sagging with exhaustion. But he didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to stay with her, to watch over her, to be there when she finally opened her eyes.

Dr. Patel watched him with a soft, sympathetic gaze. She could see how much this was costing him, but she also understood that this was what he needed.

"We’ll let him stay for a little longer." She said quietly to Chris and Nick, who both nodded gratefully. "But you must agree that, if anything changes, if he starts showing signs of distress, you call for me immediately.”

"We will." Chris promised, his voice low and earnest. Nick nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving Matt.

With that, the doctor and nurse quietly exited the room, leaving the three brothers alone with Y/N. The room was dim and quiet. The only sound was the soft beeping of the monitors and the occasional muffled sniffle from Nick or Chris.

Matt finally let the exhaustion pull him under, his breathing evening out as he drifted into a fitful sleep. His fingers were still wrapped loosely around Y/N’s hand, and his head rested against her side as if he could protect her even in his sleep.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Several hours passed in quiet vigil. Chris and Nick stayed sat on the small couch by the wall, watching over Matt and Y/N like silent guardians, their hearts heavy with worry but relieved that, for now, their family was still holding on.

As the soft light of dawn began to creep through the tiny window in Y/N’s room, there was a faint stirring.

The world around her was a hazy blur, everything out of focus and spinning, like she was caught in a dream she couldn’t quite wake up from. There were distant beeps and muffled voices, but they all seemed so far away, like she was listening from underwater.

A faint, familiar smell flooded her nose. Matt. Or is it Nick? It was something like strawberries or maybe coconut. She couldn’t tell, but it was comforting enough. She tried to move, to lift her heavy eyelids, but her entire body felt like it was weighed down by an invisible force.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N finally managed to blink her eyes open, the harsh bright lights above her making her squint. The ceiling was white and sterile, and as her vision adjusted, she could make out the faint sounds of machines beeping rhythmically around her. Her mind was foggy, like a thick cloud had settled over her thoughts, and it took her a moment to realize where she was.

A hospital. She could feel something tight around her ribs, a dull, throbbing pain in her head, and an odd numbness throughout her limbs that made it difficult to move. Her throat was dry, like sandpaper, and when she tried to swallow, it sent a sharp ache down to her chest.

Panic started to bubble up in her chest, her heart rate quickening as fragmented memories began to resurface - the blaring headlights, the screech of tires, and the sudden, jarring impact that had stolen her breath away. She let out a small, pained whine, her chest tightening as she tried to remember more, but it was all so blurry, so confusing.

A voice cut through the haze, it sounded quiet but rough, like it had been scraped raw.

"Y/N? Hey, it’s okay... you’re okay."

She turned her head slowly, every movement feeling like she was wading through thick mud. The face that came into focus was familiar, a face that brought her the feeling of home amidst the confusion.

Nick.

Y/N’s eyes blinked slowly, struggling to focus on the two faces in front of her. She was still groggy, the world around her hazy, but the concerned expressions of Chris and Nick gradually came into focus. Her brows furrowed slightly, confusion clouding her tired gaze.

"N-Nick...? Chris...?" She mumbled, her voice rough and barely audible. Her throat was parched, every word scraping against the dryness.

Nick let out a shaky laugh, tears gathering in his eyes.

"Oh my god, I was so... I'm so glad you're back." He whispered, his voice breaking with a mixture of relief and emotion. He stepped closer, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face.

Chris nodded, his face lighting up with the first real smile in what felt like an eternity.

"We’ve been really worried about you, Y/N." He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re a fighter, you know that?"

Y/N tried to smile, but even that felt like lifting a mountain.

"What... what happened?" She asked, her voice weak, her words slurred from the medication and anesthesia coursing through her veins. "I... I remember the crash. I remember..." She trailed off as she recalled the moment of impact, the way everything had gone black in an instant. "It all happened so fast."

Nick’s eyes filled with tears, and he traveled his hand from her hair to her shoulder, squeezing the covered skin tightly.

"It was... it was really bad. But you are here now, okay? You made it through the surgery. You’re safe."

"Surgery?" The word sent a chill down her spine. She tried to remember, but everything after the crash was a blur. "What... what happened to me?" She asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Nick took a shaky breath, his grip on her tightening as if he needed the contact to ground himself before connecting his eyes with Chris's, begging for him to answer her.

"You had internal bleeding caused by some broken ribs." Chris explained gently, cleaning his throat to disguise the emotion in his voice. "You’ve been out for at least 15 hours after a four-hour surgery. And... and you hit your head really hard. But the doctors said the surgery was a success, and your concussion is mild. You’re going to be okay."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, the reality of it all crashing down on her. Surgery. Internal bleeding. The thought of how close she’d come to... She couldn’t finish the thought, the fear overwhelming her.

"Where... where’s Matt? Is he okay? Oh god, he was driving-"

Chris’s eyes softened, and he exchanged a glance with Nick.

"He’s right here, Y/N." Chris reassured her gently, pointing towards Matt's figure with his head.

Y/N’s gaze flickered downward, and her breath hitched when she finally registered for the first time Matt slumped over on the edge of her hospital bed, his head resting beside her hip. His brown hair was disheveled, and his face looked paler than she had ever seen, decorated with a variety of bruises and cuts, but he was breathing, his chest rising and falling steadily.

It was then that she noticed the weight of his fingers against hers, holding her hand firmly as if she could disappear at any moment.

"He’s been by your side from the minute he woke up..."

The sound of the boy's voice, combined with the familiar touch of his girlfriend, pulled Matt from the depths of his medication-induced sleep. His eyelids fluttered, a groggy groan escaping his lips as he slowly stirred awake. For a moment, he looked confused, his eyes unfocused as he blinked against the harsh lights.

But then, as his gaze settled on Y/N’s face, now wide awake and staring back at him with teary eyes, everything clicked into place. His heart leaped in his chest, and any remaining fog of sleep vanished instantly.

"Y/N?" He croaked, his voice raw with disbelief. His eyes widened as he looked at her, truly seeing her awake for the first time. "Oh my god... you’re... you're awake."

Y/N managed a weak smile, tears gathering in her eyes as well.

"Hey, baby. I'm here." She whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "You look like you’ve been through hell."

Matt let out a choked laugh, a mix of relief and joy bubbling up inside him. He quickly pulled himself closer to her, his hands shaking as he reached for her face, brushing his thumb tenderly over her bruised cheek.

"I thought... I thought I had lost you." He confessed, his voice breaking. "God, Y/N, I was so scared. I... I couldn’t-" His words were cut off by a sob he couldn’t contain, and he buried his face in her neck, pressing desperate kisses to her exposed skin, his curls tickling her chin in a grounding way.

Y/N’s heart ached at the sight and feeling of him so broken. With what little strength she had, she squeezed his fingers, trying to comfort him.

"I’m here, Matt." She whispered. "We’re okay. You don’t have to worry anymore."

Matt shook his head, his tears soaking her neck.

"I’m so, so sorry." He choked out between sobs. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should’ve protected you... I couldn't even-"

Y/N’s brows knitted together in confusion as she tried to process his words. She lifted a trembling hand to stroke his messy hair, trying to calm him down.

"Matt, baby, hey... where's this coming from?" She asked, her voice soft and full of concern as her eyes traveled momentarily to Chris and Nick, searching for an answer in them that they didn’t seem to have.

Matt just kept shaking his head, his sobs growing louder, muffled by her skin.

"It’s my fault... it’s all my fault." He whispered, his voice breaking. "I should’ve seen the car... I should’ve done something... God, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me. I'm really, really sorry..."

Y/N’s confusion turned to anger as she realized what he was saying.

"Matt, look at me." She demanded, her voice suddenly stronger despite her weakened state.

He slowly lifted his tear-streaked face from her shoulder to meet her gaze momentarily, his eyes red and puffy.

"How can you blame yourself?" She asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You... Matt, there was nothing you could’ve done. A crazy driver was coming to our direction. You didn’t cause this."

"But... but I should’ve seen it sooner. I should’ve done more." Matt insisted, his voice cracking terribly. He couldn’t meet her eyes for more than a second, ashamed of the guilt that had consumed him. "You got hurt because of me... I should be the one lying in there, not you."

"Don't you dare say something like that, Matthew." Y/N said firmly, her fingers gripping his hand as tightly as she could manage. "Listen to me. It was not your fault. There was nothing you could have done to stop it." She let out a shaky breath, her eyes softening as her free hand traveled to his face, softly brushing away the tears from his cheeks. "I’m okay, Matt... because of you. You were there. You kept me safe until help came."

Her words only made Matt’s tears flow harder, dripping directly where her fingers met his skin, his sobs causing his body to tremble and his ribs to ache, but there was a shift in his eyes, a flicker of something like relief. He didn’t fully believe her, but hearing her say it, seeing the sincerity in her expression, it was like a balm to his raw, bleeding heart.

"You did everything you could, baby. You saved my life. If it wasn’t for you..." Y/N couldn’t even finish the sentence; the thought was too painful to bear. To lose a life with the love of her existence.

Matt sniffled, pressing the side of his face against her palm and wiping the other side of it with the back of his hand, still holding on to Y/N like she was the only thing keeping him afloat.

Nick and Chris watched the whole scene unfold in silence, their hearts heavy with the raw emotions in the room. Chris discreetly wiped away a tear while Nick stood there, his arms crossed over his chest as if trying to hold himself together.

"I love you so much." Matt whispered, nuzzling against her hand. "I can't even picture a life without you."

"I love you too, Matt." Y/N murmured back, her fingers weakly squeezing his. "But you don’t have to picture anything. I’m right here."

Matt let out a shaky breath, nodding.

"Now, why don't the both of you rest a little bit more?" Nick's voice seemed to remind them of the brother's presence. "It will do good for your healing process." Y/N's eyes lifted to the oldest momentarily before nodding slowly.

As the room settled into a comfortable silence, Matt gently laid his head back down on the bed, still holding Y/N’s hand as if it was his lifeline. Y/N stroked his hair softly, her heart aching with love and relief.

For the first time in what felt like forever, they could finally breathe. They were together, alive, and that was all that mattered.

[jasmineoolongtea]

― in between ⋆⭒˚.⋆

― the ways in which they act around you when you're in that in-between stage ༘ ⋆｡˚

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, yuuta x gn!reader, headcannons/drabbles, fluff a/n: heavily based on in between by gracie abrams. if she releases it in the secret of us deluxe edition, i might just explode with happiness. btw thank you sm for blowing up my last post, literally insane of you guys and a big kiss to all of you. also genuine question for you guys, do you prefer the layout i have for my headcanons, drabbles or longer fics? i'm trying to see which one you guys prefer

gojo satoru never lets his phone ring for more than a couple seconds when it comes to you. doesn't matter where, when or what it could be about, the second he hears your personalised ringtone or sees your name flash across the top of his screen, he's scrambling to try and answer it as fast he possibly can. he could be in the middle of fighting a curse, deep within the throws of battle with a laser focus on the target in front of him and it all goes out the window the moment you call his phone.

you'll never know about it though. for some reason, satoru keeps this fact to himself like it's the biggest secret in the world. he'll always pick up the phone with a carefree lilt to his voice, sometimes even choosing to tease you for calling him when you could have just texted instead. quietly inside, he thanks the universe for giving him the opportunity to hear your voice again.

"gojo," god, he loves the way you say his name, maybe one day he'll manage to get you to call him satoru. "are you sure you're at home right now?" there's a tinge of concern that permeates your voice and he swears his heart beats twice as fast just thinking about the fact that you might be worried about his well being.

"of course! why'd you ask? don't tell me this is your way of asking to come over right now?" you sigh at his antics and he laughs it off, it's like a routine you two do. he keeps jokingly throwing out these more than friendly offers to your constant dismissal but secretly, he hopes one day that he can stop pretending like they're just that.

there's a loud crash coming from his side of the call which only serves your suspicions as you quip back. "no, gojo. i'm asking because i'm hearing noises like you're beating someone up." he curses faintly under his breath at the curse who's off groaning in pain in the distance after being punted into a wall with a flick of his wrist.

you pause for a second as your voice softens "is this a good time to call because if not i can just-"

"no, no." he cuts you off, "i've got all the time in the world for you."

geto suguru hates it when you cry and hates it even more when you're away. he never thought it would be possible to hear a heart shatter in front of him but that's what he hears every time you shed a tear. you're the definition of angelic as crystalline tears stream down your face and his heart swells with warmth when you allow him to comfort you in his arms.

silently, he pledges to burn down whatever has brought you so much grief and pain as a newfound sense of anger courses through his veins. but before he can do anything, you turn to him with watery eyes and a quivering lip as you ask him to do the unthinkable.

"stay." you plead quietly.

"okay." he responds, a soft, comforting smile gracing his expression. he'll never say it out loud but he knows that it's a request, just like many others, he'll accept a thousand times over if it means he gets to stay close to you, even if it's nothing more than this.

if he thought it was painful to see you cry, then being away from you was possibly a fate worse than death. whenever he has to bear the misfortune of being separated from you, there's a part of him that you've taken away with you and is only reunited when you return to him. absence is said to make the heart grow fonder but he's pretty sure it's humanly impossible for his to do that as you're already the one it beats for. even across the distance of a phone call, it's still not enough for him to hear but not see you as it simply makes him crave your presence next even more.

he's rarely ever let anyone in like this before but the day you see him exhausted, dishevelled and broken and still choose to remain at his side, despite his protests, is the day he's sure that you're the only thing he'll ever want for the rest of his life. you claim it's under the guise of being friendly yet even satoru hasn't seen him like this. you might not know it but he does.

he doesn't say much, instead choosing to bask in this moment of mutual comfort and closeness as even at each other's worst, you both know that you'll still be okay.

nanami kento says that he's new at this when you toe that delicate line between the two of you. you're new to this too. he's scared and you're scared, however, the fear is not enough to stop this. when does the line of being just friends end and the line of calling each other lover start? or is there a secret in-between stage that the two of you are stuck in like right now, where the other waits with bated breath to see if someone takes the risk to make the first move?

you've been friends for as long as you can remember running into each other that one fateful day within the rectangular walls of jujutsu tech. however, there's always been a whisper of something else there as well. it's been something the two of you have danced around with lingering glances and silent, 'accidental' touches in public spaces. the two of you have seen each other through the growing pains of adolescence, nights of broken hearts and awkward first dates and now with an added layer of professionalism as recent coworkers.

when it was nanami who was the one who rescued you from those times when you were left cold and alone in a random restaurant somewhere, you know that you've had enough of waiting on somebody who doesn't care about you. as he places his hand on your shoulder, ushering you into his car with his jacket dropped across your figure with the utmost care, he knows that you deserve so much more than whatever this world can offer and he can only dream of being the one to give this to you.

between you and him, there's an invisible wall of all the labels you have each barricade the other behind in an attempt to hide under a sense of familiarity but now in this moment, you want nothing more than to tear it all down with your bare hands. he reaches out to you, threading his fingers through his and in one swift move, he's done the impossible and has crossed over the holy ground that lies beneath you.

"do you think this is a good idea?" you ask him, your voice barely above a whisper.

"positive." he responds, more resolute in his answer than in anything he has been in his life, and you swear sparks fly when you kiss.

fushiguro megumi loves your eyes and your smile and you love how he talks late at night when there's no one there. it's like a silent agreement between you two, one that you always honour. whenever one of you guys can't sleep, you will go to each other's dorm rooms and knock twice and you guys will stay up and talk until either the sun comes up or you both fall asleep.

it doesn't take a genius to say that megumi is a guarded person, with his walls so high you might even lose sight of him behind them, so it only makes it even more precious when you're able to see him like this in the dim light of the moonlight pouring in through the window. his skin is illuminated by the glow and the way he sounds when he's speaking with his soul bared open in its entirety makes you want to forever immortalise this moment in your memories. you think about all the people who have missed out on experiencing him like this with how his eyes sparkle with passion and how he breaks out into a grin at the slightest joke, leading you to mourn silently for their loss. however, you think of how vulnerable he lets himself become around you, knowing that you'll stay here with him no matter what, and the sweet nothings you hear him whisper to you when he thinks that you've fallen asleep and you realise this a secret you'll want to keep just between these walls.

on the rare occasion that megumi loses his battle to sleep first, he'll silently reach out for your hand and pull you closer to him. you're not sure if he's doing this consciously or unconsciously but you chose not to comment on the growing red glow of his ears as you sink into his touch.

usually, however, what happens is that you fall asleep first as you make your way onto the pillowy fortress that is either of your guys' beds. as you begin to drift off, he's always there watching over you like your very own moody guardian angel. this is the most he'll let himself indulge in your closeness, for now, as he takes comfort in the familiarity of this in-between stage.

itadori yuji tells you that you're beautiful, funny and smart like nothing he's ever seen. he swears on everything he loves in this world, a list that includes you but you don't need to know that yet. you brush off his compliments with practised ease as you try to fight the burning sensation that is spreading across your face. deep down, you can feel your heart fluttering at his compliments but then you think about how you shouldn't be feeling this way about someone who's your friend.

"itadori, you're exaggerating," you say, shoving his shoulder playfully. he pretends to feign hurt, rubbing the impacted area with a slight pout. adorable, you think to yourself before bringing yourself back into the present moment.

"no, it's true really! if you don't believe me, i'll just keep saying it over and over again." he asserts, ever so confident in his stance. it's all true to him, just like how the sky is blue and the grass is green. he'll be the first one to say how pretty, amazing and talented you are in a room full of your biggest supporters and he'll be the first one to say it again when there's no one else.

you roll your eyes half-heartedly at him, trying your best to act nonchalant despite wondering if he might ever feel more for you than your current state of friendship. "you don't say that to your friends. what about nobara, you don't say this to her, do you?"

"yeah, but she isn't you," he responds back. you don't answer him, choosing instead to point out an ice cream stand in the far distance and he lets you tug him along with you. it's okay, he knows that you're scared of whatever lies ahead for you two. he understands that you're worried that he might like you in that way, although he thinks that it's a bit stupid you're still so unsure about it when he wears his heart on his sleeve whenever it comes to you. whatever is it, he'll be happy to go along at your pace, just as long as it means he gets to be by your side like this.

okkotsu yuuta is so good to you and it makes you want it more than everything in between. is it greedy to say that you want more than whatever you two have right now? the longing stares, the lingering touches and the way your faces light up when you spot each other in a crowded room. sure, those were all fine for a bit but how long were you able to survive on just that when he was right there next to you as a constant reminder of the possibility of something more.

you never thought that you would be able to meet someone like him, someone who treats you as if you were the best thing to ever happen with so much care and love radiating from his very being. the way his hand brushes your cheeks when you get even the smallest cuts makes your heart feel like it's about to fall out of your chest with how he takes extra care to scan over your appearance for anything, pausing for a second on your lips. you think to yourself, he must be doing this on purpose, and you want to curse at him for playing with your heart but when he smiles at you with those half-moon eyes, you can feel all of that melting away and more.

the only person you can blame here for your current predicament is yourself really, you were the one who drew the line in the sand when the two of you first met. just friends, you said but in your defence, you had just learned about his history and how cold and empty his has been as well as how much you've been hurt in your own past, so you decided to do what was, at the time, what you thought was best for the both of you. only now, every day you spend with him makes him wish that you would one day wake up and finally take that jump.

yuuta also shares your sentiments, actually ever since he first saw you he knew that you were the one he wanted to live and breathe for, but he doesn't say anything for fear of scaring you off. he knows about your worries, your doubts and your fears and as much as he wants to tell you that you should throw caution into the wind and that he'll take that step for you, he also knows that he can't. so for now he'll do his best to quell your nerves with a gentle hand on the small of your back and a fleeting kiss on your cheek that you'll someday trust in yourself and him to fall headfirst into this new unknown territory, outside of this in between.

[foli-vora]

once again in your arms

joel miller x f!reader

A/N: mwahah, hello boys i’m baaack (10 points to whoever knows what movie that quote's from). took an unexpected break coz life, but i’m ready to get back on track. this was requested by a beautiful anon a while back (sorry for the wait angel), but i hope you enjoy! x

Request: hello! so this is kinda angsty: joel and the reader are married and have a baby (plus sarah, obviously). the day of the outbreak, reader and baby were in town and she couldnt call joel (or viceversa) cause the phone lines were down. they were separated for a few years until they arrives at the quarantine zone he's in, and he recognizes them in the crowd.

Word count: 4.5k-ish

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, birth and having a baby, domestic fluff, angst, pre and post outbreak, some spoilery things if you haven’t seen the show yet, heartbreak, loss of a child, apocalypse things, i sweat at the idea of caring for a baby during the end of the world, soft reunions, fluff, cameos of my fave oc’s made in a different series

It’s a fact you had learnt in the very early days of your relationship... the Miller men knew how to care for a lady. Whether it was Tommy sliding in to open the door for you before you could reach for the handle, or Joel draping you in blankets and taking on the responsibility of keeping your hot water bottle warm to fend off cramps for the evening, not a moment went by when you didn’t feel the constant reassurance of their care.

Especially now, fresh from the hospital and tender from your days of excruciating pain and an extensively long labour, Tommy quickly slaps the pillows into something plusher, hands gentle as they guide you down until you’re reclining into the armchair.

Joel keeps an eye on you from across the room, the brief wash of concern slipping away with the easy smile that grows along his lips when your eyes meet.

He rocks the wrapped bundle in his arms softly, a big hand dwarfing the small head that peaks from the blankets. His fingers brush through the light smattering of hair peeking out from the cotton burrito, his index running along the tiny peak of a nose and you feel your heart swell in your chest.

“Dad,” Sarah whines with an eager smile, shifting restlessly on the couch, “come on, I’ve been waiting all weekend.”

“Oh my god,” Joel drawls sarcastically, “all weekend? Baby girl, how are you survivin’ right now?”

“Shut up,” her grin widens, “give me my baby brother before I explode.”

“Well, we don’t want that mess all in the livin’ room,” Joel quips, stepping over your weekend bags tossed on the floor and closer to the couch, “ain’t treadin’ your brain all into the rug—thing was damn expensive.”

Sarah shrugs, readjusting her body to sit straighter and holding her arms out expectantly, “Least I have a brain.”

Tommy snorts in amusement, grinning at his brother's expense, “That’s true.”

“Are you still here?” Joel side eyes him, barely fighting the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

They bicker, throwing their little snippy sibling comments back and forth before Sarah clears her throat, her eyebrows rising in impatience.

“Alright, alright. Here, watch his head,” Joel instructs gently, a smile playing along his lips, “that’s it, baby, you got him.”

It’s a beautiful picture, Sarah carefully bringing the baby closer and tucking him carefully into her arms, and the sentiment is shared with Tommy as the flash and click of a camera goes off. He removes the polaroid sliding from the slot and sits it on the coffee table to develop before instructing Joel to slide in next to her and smile.

Both Joel and Sarah are oblivious to his instruction, lost in the bubble that has overcome them. You find peace watching them, warmth spreading along your limbs by the sweet tenderness of it all. The love is clear between the three of them cuddled on the couch, and it’s almost too much for your heart to bear.

Sarah beams down at her baby brother, cooing soft words and stroking a gentle finger down Matthew’s cheek. Joel throws an arm to rest on the top of the couch behind Sarah, turning into her and answering her questions quietly.

8 pounds, 3 ounces. Smaller than you. No, he didn’t cry at all—gave me and the docs a damn heart attack. She sure did a great job. 

Your Joel was never a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but the emotion shines from his eyes, bleeds through the lines in his face and it’s enough to bring tears building along your lash line.

“You okay over there?”

His familiar drawl brings your attention to him, and you smile at him, tired and fully at peace. It’s bliss, despite the ache of birth still hanging in your limbs. M

“I’m fine,” you respond quietly, lids heavy with exhaustion, “I’m just so happy.”

He fucking beams. His grin creases his cheeks and he nods softly.

“Me too, honey,” he mutters, turning his attention back to his children and playing with a strand of Sarah’s hair as he gazes down at Matthew, “me too.”

—

Four months later.

Chaos.

Matthew wails against your chest, the deafening sounds of screams, bullets, sirens and explosions setting him off into hysterics. Your arms tighten around him, keeping his face tucked closely into your throat so your scent could hopefully provide him some reassurance.

You crouch beside cars, you run until your legs ache. You take cover in stores, the soles of your shoes crunching over broken glass of the shattered windows. Every phone you try gives nothing but a dull tone. Radios are filled with static and emergency broadcasts play on the view screens you run past in your effort to escape whatever the hell is happening.

Worry stirs along the edges of your mind. Is Joel okay? Sarah? Tommy? You can’t call him, you can only run and hope nothing takes you down in your effort to get back to your car. You pass people crouched over others, blood smearing along their lips as they tear unforgivingly into the flesh of another.

It’s a nightmare, and it’s everywhere you look.

Almost there.

You see the sign of the parking lot and it only makes you run that much faster, even though your legs threaten to give out at any minute. You pass an elderly man crouching beside a woman, blood flowing from the open gash on her throat, and the ache clutching your heart only increases when his pleas reach your ears over the mayhem.

“Gloria,” he mutters in an aged rasp, “up you get, love. You’re alright, come on now—”

You can’t help it.

Somewhere in your mind you can feel Joel screaming at you to keep running, to get yourself to safety and not give a damn about anyone other than Matthew, but the image of this man cradling his wife’s wrinkled, bloodied hand is enough to get you advancing to him before anyone could hurt him. 

“Sir—”

He ignores you, too busy with brushing the woman’s blood soaked white hair from her face.

“Sir, we have to move—”

You wrap your fingers around his shoulder and shake firmly. His head gives a shake of denial as he clutches his wife’s hand tighter.

“No… no, she’ll need help—she has a bad ankle.”

Shifting Matthew unsteadily onto your hip, your fingers wrap under his arm and tug him onto his feet. He fights you, bats your hold away with an infuriated expression at your rough handling of him.

“I’m so sorry, but she’s gone—we have to run. I—I have a car, please… just come with me, please!”

“I won’t leave her—”

“Please… they’re coming! I—would she want this for you? To die like this?”

He blinks, his frown softening ever so slightly before screams pierce the air, much closer than you anticipated, and terror claws up your throat until you feel you’ll vomit.

You hold out a hand, relieved when his own rough, calloused hand finally takes it, and then you’re running, albeit slower than before, but you make it to your car with no issues.

You dive into the driver's seat, passing Matthew over to the stranger when he makes an impatient gesture to hold him and then you’re tearing out of the lot, running down the few rabid looking beings that advance on you with bloodied expressions of hunger.

You don’t think you take a proper breath until you’re past a military barricade that had seemingly been destroyed in the attack, flying down the highway and around other panicked drivers with sweat slicking your skin. 

Taking a deep breath to slow the brutal pounding of your heart, you look at Matthew, now calmed and looking up at the stranger with an obvious shine of curiosity. The old man is clearly softened by the baby, letting his small hand wrap around his finger and wiggling it playfully in his hold.

“That’s Matthew,” you mutter shakily, meeting the eyes of the elderly man before gazing back out the windscreen. You take another breath before giving your own name, tears biting at your eyes when you utter the name Miller.

Do you still have a husband? A step daughter? A brother in law? The unknown scares you, outright fucking terrifies you. 

The man nods in your peripheral vision.

“Harold,” he finally says, voice rough and tired.

—

There are people everywhere, screaming, crying.

People run, shout, wail over family and friends.

Tears have long dried on his face, his head thumping relentlessly with the remnants of his heartbreak. Tommy’s grip is firm on him, tugging him out of the way of people tearing down in their direction, pulling him to where a makeshift table is thrust under a tent as a reception of sorts.

He doesn’t care about the people already there asking about their family and friends. He shoves them out of the way, hands shaking as they clutch the edge of the weak table.

“I’m lookin’ for a woman… she’d be with a baby boy, not even four months old—”

His voice shakes. He can’t get it to stop. He struggles to get out the detailed descriptions of you both down to the clothes you were wearing, speaking your names through trembling lips. His stomach jolts at the thought of you somewhere, lying helplessly on the floor with your flesh getting torn into while Matthew screams in his car seat.

He’s a damn baby. He wouldn’t know what’s happening, wouldn’t know why his mama’s not there with him—

The woman gives a small expression of sympathy over the thin surgical mask covering her mouth, “I’m sorry, sir. We’ve had no babies that young come through, and nothing like that has come in over the radios.”

He retches. 

His body heaves, almost as if it’s rejecting the mere idea that you weren’t somewhere safe waiting for him. He had failed. Failed to keep Sarah safe, failed to keep Matthew safe, you—the vows he had made now meant shit. He hadn’t been there for better or worse. He’d hadn’t done what a father should have and kept his kids free from harm.

Sarah had died, terrified and in agony, in his hold. Her bloodied handprints remain dry and caked on his arms. Matthew had died, not even making it to six months. A baby, still fresh to the world, only just able to hold his own head up. You had died, not knowing where he and Sarah were, if they were even safe.

Tommy hauls him to a close trash can, rubbing a firm hand up and down his back as he chokes on vomit, tears soon streaming down his cheeks when his body eventually has nothing left to give. His heart hammers in his chest, thundering against his ribs and filling his ears until he’s unaware of the noises around him. 

“They’re gone,” he whispers hoarsely, clutching at the rim of the trash can in an effort to keep himself up.

“Now we don’t know that—”

“God damn it, Tommy, you saw what it was like out there!” 

Tommy sighs, his own eyes filling with tears. “We gotta keep hope, Joel—”

“Hope?” Joel spits at his brother, “What good is hope against that shit out there? She would’ve been alone, you know as well as I Matthew only would’ve slowed her down. They were in the city. We couldn’t even keep safe out here! They’re—they’re gone. My wife… my baby boy, my baby girl—”

The sobs tear from his chest, harsh and painful. He mourns for hours, unseeing of the flurried movement still happening around him, his sorrow mixing with the flood of agony filling the makeshift safe zone with every new unhurt civilian looking for someone familiar.

Tommy doesn’t take his arms away from around his brother until dawn starts to pierce the horizon, 

—

Two years later.

He still fills your thoughts daily.

Your life, your old life, would flash behind your eyelids at night when sleep would finally claim you. You’d feel his touch, kiss his lips, touch his face. It all felt so normal. The dreams would be nothing but memories, and somehow, it made them feel more like nightmares.

Mornings making breakfast with Sarah, dancing to the music falling from the radio. Family game nights, watching Tommy and Joel get more and more competitive with each game. Grocery shopping with Joel, simply wandering down the aisles and relishing in his comforting touch warming your lower back. 

You could never quite make peace with the possibility that he was dead. It didn’t sit right. The idea that your Joel had been lost to the disaster that had claimed the world just seemed impossible. Your heart rejected the notion, refused to accept that its counterpart wasn’t somewhere out there, living, breathing, surviving,

Sarah and Tommy, too.

They had to be somewhere, holed up safely and keeping well. They had to.

“They’ve established a quarantine zone close by,” you say quietly, mindful of Matthew sleeping on your lap, “it’ll be a lot safer there than out here. I think we should give it a go… find a more secure place to live. I’ve heard they have work available, good flow of food and medicine…”

Harry snorts quietly, shifting under his old, thick jacket, “That doesn’t mean they’re happy giving it out. There’ll be a catch somewhere.”

You eye the long carved frown in his features and lean forward to fix the blanket covering his tired legs, “Don’t you think we should try at least?”

“Maybe they’ll put a bullet in me,” Harry grumbles moodily, “I’m old—I can’t work like they’ll want me to. Although, it’ll beat living through this bloody nightmare any longer.”

“Harold,” you chide softly, heart aching at the thought of losing the grumpy old man after spending so long by his side.

He’d quickly become a grandfather figure of sorts, to both you and Matthew. The little boy was obsessed with him, and had been since the day you had come together, and though he tried to hide it behind his usual icy facade, Harry was smitten, weak from the boy learning to call him pa.

“He’ll be safer in there,” Harry finally grumbles, gazing at the sleeping toddler. “This is no life for him out here. It’s getting worse and worse. Stability will do him good.”

“And you’ll come with us?”

He sighs sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine—I’ll come. But if they don’t kill me, I’ll be bloody upset with you.”

You snort in amusement, a grin curling your lips. “Fair enough. Now drink your soup.”

“I’m not hungry. You have it.”

He shoves it away, pushing it in your direction, as he usually does. It’s a daily fight—him refusing food in favour of giving you and Matthew more, ensuring you both never went hungry despite his own hunger and rapid weight loss due to the sudden lack of food.

You give him a playful frown and hold the small cup out to him.

“Don’t make me force feed you, old man, drink it.”

—

The walls of the Quarantine Zone are a lot more daunting than you had originally thought they would be. They tower high, and the barely there movement of soldiers along the front and top of it have nerves start to build in the pit of your stomach.

Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Surely they wouldn’t shoot without asking questions? Would they even give you a chance? What happens to you if the zone is full? Would they let you go on your merry little way?

God, you feel sick. 

The ice creeping along your skin doubles, and you tighten your grip on the baby carrier strapped to your chest. Matthew hums quietly against your back, his little fingers tracing random patterns along your shirt as he bounces with your each step. Harry walks somewhat steadily beside you, his cheeks reddening with the more distance you cover.

He gives you a reassuring nod when you look to him for guidance, and you continue forward, swallowing the lump building in your throat when you become aware of them yelling about your presence.

Their guns are raised when you eventually make it closer, and it’s automatic to throw your hands up in surrender.

“We’re not infected!” you shout, hoping they’d listen. 

A soldier steps forward. “On the ground, now!”

“Shit. Okay! Please, I—we’re not infected—”

“Get. On. The. Ground!”

“I have a kid! I have a—please, we’re not—”

“Get the kid out.”

Panic flares to life in your chest. You fight the tremble in your fingers as they raise to the clip across your chest, winding a supportive hand around to your back to keep Matthew from falling out of the carrier as it loosens from your torso.

After a bit of shifting, Matthew stands on shaky legs, his eyes darting between you and the few soldiers with their weapons raised.

“It’s okay, baby,” you soothe softly, “we gotta do what the man says, okay? Can you do that for mama?”

You continue to lower until your front hits the rubble covered ground, and you motion for Matthew to do the same, heart breaking as he cowers in fear and falls to his knees before copying your posture and hiding his face against the road.

More voices fill your ears, the obvious presence of more soldiers swarming from the gate causing your pulse to skyrocket as Harry lowers on the other side of the small toddler.

“Check ‘em.”

“Everything’s fine,” you murmur, keeping your gaze on Matthew and smiling when he peeks at you from between his fingers, “we’re okay. Keep your eyes on me, baby. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

It stings.

You automatically flinch away from the device someone holds at your neck, freezing when more weapons are raised in your direction. The device gives a small beep and the soldier gives a loud clear, before moving for Matthew.

He cries out at the pain, his chest heaving with his growing sobs. The guns move in his direction and you’re flying towards him before you can even think, yelping when arms pull you away from your baby before you can console him. His screams worsen. 

“Please,” you beg, “he’s just a baby—!”

The soldiers remain emotionless.

Another beep, another clear.

The fingers digging into your arms loosen and then you’re free, hurriedly crawling on all fours until Matthew’s in your arms, his tear stricken face pressing into your throat. You soothe him softly, murmuring how well he did and that he’s safe with you while the soldiers move their attention to Harry.

When the device gives a final clear, another soldier steps forward, a small smile stretching his lips.

“Sorry about that,” he says, stepping forward until he’s only a step away, “but we can’t be too careful.”

It’s surreal being around people again.

For the longest time, it’s just been you, Matthew and Harry. The people left after the event had turned cruel, desperate for any remaining resources and resulting to violence left, right and centre. It’d been sheer luck that you three had escaped some of the nastier characters you’d come across during your treks. Sure, you’d lost a few supplies every now and then, but you were thankful you all were still here at least.

The man leads you into an office of sorts, with rusted old chairs to sit on while he goes about ‘registering’ you. You’re surprised at the process of it all, confused when he says you’re in luck because after this morning, there are new rooms available. What does that mean? Had something happened to the occupants?

Your stomach turns, but you dare not dwell on it.

Safety for Matthew, that’s all that matters. That’s why you’re here.

It feels like hours before you’re stepping into the sun again, lead out onto a relatively normal looking street with written directions to your new accommodation. The door bangs loudly behind you, fully closing you from the horrors of the outside world, and you try not to focus on the looks of curiosity, borderline hostility, as you start to walk further into the QZ, the height of the wall casting a large shadow over your path.

There’s a main square of sorts, filled with small stations of people selling various items. Your stomach grumbles at the sight of shitty looking food, desperate to eat something other than the random old bits and pieces you’d find through your looting, but you’d have to begin work to even afford a single half burnt bread roll. The two ration cards you had received at your ‘registration’ wouldn’t make a dent in what you’d need to afford any of it.

You pass the sellers, sharing a sullen look with Harry as he too realises he wouldn’t have enough for any of it.

There’s crowds, and you try to keep to yourself as you move, but something catches your eye, as if your sight had been automatically pulled to that direction and you’re oblivious to the people bumping into your frame.

For a moment, you’re sure you’re dreaming.

Did they end up shooting you at the gate? This couldn’t be real, couldn’t be unfolding right before your very eyes. You feel alive. You feel your pulse, your breath. You feel Matthew shift in the carrier, you hear Harry making comments about the people and the surrounding buildings.

You can’t look away.

You’re pulled in his direction, certain with every bone in your body that it’s him. It’s him.

The man turns, and his eyes are meeting yours through the crowds before you can even brace for it, and you see the moment it hits him.

He freezes, his eyes unblinking as if they don’t want to risk losing the hallucination his mind had conjured. He steps forward, and again, and again, slow in his movements, cautious.

“Joel?” You breathe, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the bustle of your surroundings and the distance between you, but he must see your lips mould his name because then he’s running, ducking through the people and heading straight your way.

You start to jog, careful not to disturb the carrier holding Matthew too much, and then he’s there. He’s there and he’s real and he’s saying your name so sweetly, a broken rasp of disbelief and a tremble taking over his hands as they raise to cup your cheeks.

You sob at his touch. 

The tears flow from your eyes and you grasp at whatever you can on him, your fingers tightening around the jacket hanging from his frame as you attempt to pour two years of loss into your embrace. He cradles the back of your head, keeps your face pressed tightly against the dirtied skin of his throat as he mutters brokenly about how he thought you were dead and that he’d missed you so damn much.

“Oh baby boy,” he rumbles, noticing the baby carrier and the toddler within it with tears filling his lash line, “look at you.”

You hurriedly unclip the harness and sweep Matthew out of it, bringing him into the middle of your embrace. Joel runs a hand along Matthew’s cheek before sweeping down and kissing him on the forehead, his tears dropping over the toddler’s cheeks in obvious relief and utter joy. 

“How—”

You shake your head, nuzzling into the rough hand holding your cheek. “Later. We’ll talk later about everything, I just—god, I’ve missed you so fucking much, Joel.”

His head lowers until his forehead is pressed against yours, and his eyes flutter closed. You feel it in the simple gesture, how much he had missed you, mourned for you. He gives a small nod, followed by a quiet okay, before another presence suddenly makes themselves known.

Your body jolts with the weight hitting your side, and you jump in fright before your eyes come across a slightly skinny looking Australian Shepherd desperate for attention.

His tongue lolls from his mouth as he attempts to lap at your cheek, and you chuckle through your stream of steady flowing tears at the cheerful dog.

“Chip,” Joel grunts in slight annoyance, shoving the fluffy beast away from where he tries to jump and sniff at Matthew’s cheeks, “down—down, boy!”

“You have a dog?” You ask in curiosity, reaching out to pet the animal. Your smile widens when he eagerly nuzzles into your touch with an excited whine.

“He was wanderin’ the QZ when I came in,” Joel replies, one of his hands leaving your waist to deliver a rough rub to the dogs head, “followed me home one night and hasn’t stopped botherin’ me since. Tommy said he’d be good for me.”

“Tommy’s here? And Sarah?” You perk immediately in excitement, your eyes flying past his shoulder to look for his brother and the other part of your heart that’s been missing for years. “I’m so glad they’re alright, where are they?”

You don’t notice how considerably quiet he’s gone until you look at him. He’s defeated, guarded, his dark eyes drawn to the floor. He can’t look at you. Why can’t he look at you? What’s happened?

“Joel?”

“Sarah… she—she—”

He struggles to finish the sentence, the words stick uncomfortably on his tongue. His features twist in clear anguish and you feel the world around you shatter. Sarah, she… she’s gone? When? How?

Your heart sinks, weak and broken by the unexpected news. Your mind struggles to wrap itself around the notion that you’d never see her again, that the last time you saw her was truly the last. 

Regret begins to build in the pit of your stomach. That last day… you should’ve hugged her tighter, kissed her forehead, told her how much she meant to you and how lucky you were to be in her life—

The tears begin again.

“Oh Joel, I-I’m so sorry,”

You both share the heartache, wrapped in each other's arms and breathing in the other. His tight hold doesn’t loosen for a second, and you attempt to put every ounce of energy in your tired body into returning it.

The world stands still, just like it did that cursed day.

How can you be so elated that he’s here, and yet be filled with so much pain at the same time? How long has he been lost, no doubt blaming himself for his baby girl not making it to where he is now? You mourn her, mourn him for being lost, stuck on a path of despair and believing he had lost everything for so long.

What had become of him? What had the pain done to him? Surely it would’ve been pure torture for the man who practically breathed family. 

Harry can wait. Introductions can wait. Food, drink, sleep—you care for none of it. Not now. All that matters is that Joel is here, truly here in the flesh, wrapped in your arms and holding the child he hasn’t seen for two years. All that matters is that you had found one another in the violent hellscape the world had become.

Peace, but that tranquillity will forever be tainted by loss, a void hanging in the midst of relief, never to be filled again.

-

tag list 1: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld,

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[natti-ice]

boyfriend!eddie and reader having soft sex in the back of his van literally has me on the flooorrr

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, p in v, creampie, soft sex, praise

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

Most nights after being out with Eddie you'd find yourself in the back of his van, you two would sit and talk for hours or make out which obviously lead to more. It always lead to more. You couldn't keep your hands off of him and he definitely didn't mind that at all, the feel of your body against his was enough to make his heart explode.

Right now you two were stripped naked, you laid out on the three person bench, you could feel the leather sticking to your skin as a thin layer of perspiration coated your back. The air was thick and warm from heavy breathing as the passion between you grew. Eddie hovering on top of you holding up one of your legs as he gives you deep and sensual strokes.

You could feel every inch of his love and affection for you as his cock moved in and out of your pussy, he loved fucking you senseless but tonight he wanted to make love.

"You're so beautiful, baby" he says through a shaky breath, his forehead was covered in sweat and his face was bright red but he didn't care about any of that, he was only worried about you.

You let out soft moans of pleasure as his dick stroked your G spot, you gripped onto the back of the seat tightly as the pleasure became too intense. Eddie felt your muscles starting to contract around him signaling your imminent orgasm, he brings his thumb down on your clit and starts to rub it gently.

"Cum for me sweetheart, I'll be right here to catch you." His voice was gentle and soft, you had never heard him speak like that in the almost nine months you had been dating. It made your heart swell by how caring he was to you, this was your first relationship where you felt like you didn't have to ask for love, he just gave it to you.

"Oh Eddie, I'm about to-" before you could finish your sentence your body had reached its peak, your head fell back and your lower half twitched as you came on his cock. He didn't stop rubbing your clit until he felt you had enough, his big goofy smile came into view as you opened your eyes again.

"Such a good girl," he chuckles softly, he slowed down his pace slightly but he wasn't done with you yet. "You look like a goddess when you cum." He leans down and starts kissing down your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin makes you shiver with excitement. He continues to pump into you as he gently nibbles the tender flesh of your skin, not hard enough to hurt but just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin.

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear to distract you from the sensitivity of your pussy, he knows you can take it but he wants to give you encouragement to push through. "I love you so damn much" he whispers against your ear, "one day I'm gonna make you my bride" he promises you, that right there was almost enough to make you cum again.

A few more pumps later Eddie exploded inside you, he moaned out your name as he filled you up with his seed. He panted hard as he gently laid himself on top of you, care not to crush you with his weight, he brushed his lips against yours before giving you a soft passionate kiss.

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[peachdues]

ALL THE THINGS WE LEFT UNSAID — PROLOGUE + TEASER

Tengen’s Bundle of Joy • Secret Pregnancy AU

A/N: surprise! Have a first look at Tengen’s installment of my Bundle of Joy series.

This fic will be multi-part canon-AU. It is a non-linear story (alternating between Then and Now) and double surprise! It will be a slow burn (just because they fuck doesn’t mean they’re in love!)

CW: MDNI • this story features explicit sexual content • secret pregnancy • angst • mentions of injury/head wound • these two are stubborn as fuck lmao

PROLOGUE

“The Sound Hashira is rumored to be in this region. Some mission.”

Your comrade’s off-handed comment freezes you in your step.

“Where.”

Your fellow Kinoe shrugs, unaware of the way your eyes dart anxiously around the clutter of wooden homes and ramshackle shops, as though you half-expect the silver-haired swordsman to leap out from the shadows at any moment.

“It’s not like we get details of the Hashira’s missions shared with us,” he brushes you off with a yawn. His arms fold behind his head, his gait lazy and far too casual for someone of his position as he struts lazily along an uneven path that leads to the small building marked with a fading, painted wisteria crest. “We might be Kinoe, but we’re still bottom feeders compared to them.”

You hum in half-hearted agreement, but your attention to your fellow Slayer — to your mission — flounders as the knowledge you’ve worked desperately ignore explodes out of the mental bottle you’d shoved it into.

Beneath the ever-tightening buttons of your uniform shirt your stomach has begun to swell. Slight; not yet noticeable to the naked eye, but sure as hell prominent when you’re fighting to close the last two buttons or fasten your hakama pants.

You thumb absently at your belt — now loosened two notches. Perhaps you’ll take a cue from the Love Pillar’s book and opt for a skirt. At least the waist would sit higher up, the pleats, offering cover you’ll need while you figure out what the fuck it is you’re going to do. It won’t be long before your secret is exposed; before word inevitably reaches the jewel-crusted ears of the very one you want most to avoid.

You’d be more useful dead.

A callous thing to say to a subordinate, let alone someone who’d risked their neck on more than one occasion to preserve his. And, for all the testiness that had built between you over the years, a resentment born of your mutual inability to confront the other honestly, you hadn’t expected him to resort to that.

You’d known he regretted his words the moment he hurled them your way, but it was too little, too late. And it hadn’t stopped you from leveling his ire with your own, your response a series of poisoned darts you were only happy to launch right back his way.

I look forward to meeting your expectations.

But it was his regret, perhaps, that led him to grab you by the bicep as you’d tried to leave, that yanked you back to face him, breath heavy and pupils dilating.

The crack fissuring across your chest had been dulled by the way his hand swallowed your arm; how his mouth crashed into yours, and the powerful movements of his body. But once he’d collapsed atop you, panting and spent, the wounds he’d inflicted turned raw once more, the salt of his sweat preventing your blood from clotting where he’d torn your chest clean open.

You manage a furtive shake of your head, dispersing the memory of his body and his violence from your mind. This is not the time for you to pick at the scab over your heart, not after you spent the better part of the last two months trying to force it to form. For now, you need to focus on getting the hell out of here; to get as far away from this desolate corner of the earth before the universe decides to throw you back at him.

Before he knows.

Your comrade prattles on, bragging over how he’s been lucky enough to see the Sound Pillar in battle, oblivious to the smirk settling on your lips in spite of yourself. The Kinoe you’ve traveled with seems unaware that in detailing the way the Corp’s great Uzui had appeared out of thin air to save him and the handful of other slayers cornered by a particularly fearsome avian demon, he’s admitting to his own ineptitude in finishing off the beast on his own.

The Hashira don’t come unless hope is lost; the fact Uzui had appeared at all meant they’d been done for. Yet, he wears the boast of having needed his ass saved by one who’d undoubtedly disposed of the demon with a painful swiftness like a badge of honor.

You know better.

For all the ways your fellow swordsman brags over having witnessed the Pillar’s great display of strength, you’ve seen him weak. Not only that, but you’d been the direct cause of such weakness; you’d broken him down, made him give into temptations he believed he’d suppressed.

But that weakness has led you here — chewing on your thumbnail in a fit of anxiety your comrade remains woefully ignorant of as you try banishing the memories of the Sound Pillar’s weakness from your mind.

More, you’d begged him, sweaty and panting and delirious. More.

He’d obliged you — enthusiastically so. And the way you’d fallen apart in his arms showed you that you were just as weak as he.

Not once had he bothered to apologize for what he’d done; what he’d said. And his too casual pronouncement that your death — as gruesome and violent as your profession demanded — would be a better convenience than for him to work through his own bullshit was a slash through your chest even his most fervent apologies wouldn’t be able to stitch back together.

Not that you thought he ever would offer one — but the image of him dropping to his knees and begging you for forgiveness you wouldn’t allow yourself to give was a small comfort to your bitter heart.

Besides, you’d claimed the privilege of having the last word by not saying any at all. Instead, you’d crept away from the inn, leaving him asleep on the discarded heap of his uniform in the room you’d been forced to share.

You’d given him exactly what he’d given you — nothing. And that vindication had been as sweet as it was short-lived. Now, you’re stuck with the consequences of your own pride and weakness without any idea of what to do about it.

Feigning indifference where Tengen Uzui was concerned, however, is your speciality; a skill you’d perfected just as surely as you’d mastered shadow breathing. Thus, the mask of cool neutrality is easy to slip on as you listen to your comrade continue prattling on about skill levels and techniques to improve breathing styles, chiming with a mildly interested nod when necessary.

And you plot; plot your escape from this tiny fishing village, plot how best to guard the secret you know won’t remain such for much longer. Running away from your problems had always been far easier than forcing yourself to choke them down, and this time will be no different. Of that much, you’re certain.

Coward, a voice that sounds suspiciously close to Uzui’s hisses in your head. Coward.

And so, you continue to strategize your best chance at avoiding the storm brimming on your horizon as your fellow Kinoe continues, too consumed by his blustering to notice how your had drifts to your stomach, resting on the hidden curve where the Sound Hashira’s child grows.

—-

BONUS

“The baby — the baby —“

“Where?” Tengen surveys the wreckage scattered around you, ears carefully pricked for any cry, any smaller, weaker heartbeat, but for all his strain, he can discern none. “Was it a village kid?” He jostles you as much as he can, trying to force your eyes into focus. “Where, Y/N?”

But you only keep muttering the baby, your brow furrowed, your head twitching as though in dissent, though it remains limited where it is braced in the crook of Tengen’s massive arm.

He swears under his breath as your eyes roll into your head, your lips straining to form the mantra you cannot stop repeating, even as your breath turns shallow and raspy. Two fingers find the pulse point in your neck, and Tengen swears again at weakened beat of your heart.

“You don’t get to die.” He snaps at you, hand slapping lightly at your bloodied cheek. “You don’t get to run away. Not now. Not again.”

He needs to figure out where else you might be injured — that way he can help, can stabilize you before the Kakushi arrive. You’re not taking the easy way out this time. He would stand at the gates of heaven or hell itself to block your way, ready to haul your ass right back to life so he could chew your ass out the way you so obviously needed. And once he did, he can put this volatile, tempestuous thing between you to rest. He can free himself of the bonds you’d snapped around his wrists the moment you first sized him up and cut him down with a few, caustic words.

Then, he might finally be able to let you go.

Gritting his teeth, Tengen surveys your body. Your head wound is the most prominent, but no matter how much blood mats in your hair and streaks down your face, he knows better than to assume that it’s the worst you’ve sustained.

Gently, his hands smooth along your body, and he notes every odd bend, every lump along your joints that does not belong.

“The ba — baby —“ your voice grows fainter with each word, and Tengen can only see a sliver of white peeking out from between your eyelids.

Beneath the dark crimson of your blood your skin has turned ashen.

“Y/N.” The hoarseness of his voice has nothing to do with the smoldering flames and thick smoke that has burned the village to its skeleton. His hand slides to your abdomen, ready to position you in his arms so he can run with you, can tow you to the nearest Kakushi. You will not die; he forbids it, he forbids you from even trying —

His hand settles on your navel and freezes.

Beneath the flush of his palm is a curve; an outward swelling of your stomach that had been hidden under the loose fit of your uniform shirt, but under his touch, it is unmistakeable.

A bump. A sizeable bump extends from your abdomen.

The grunts and groans of the houses and structures giving way to the crackling flames fall away, his ears filling instant with a high-pitched ring that pulses in time with his thundering heart. The sweat rolling down his neck turns cold, his chest tightening until his lungs burn. Slowly, his eyes drag back up your body until he finds your graying face once more.

For one, brief moment, your eyes flutter open and search wildly before landing on his, wide and frozen in his horror.

“The baby.” You say once more, in explanation and confession. And then your eyes roll back into your skull and you turn limp in Tengen’s trembling arms.

[star2fishmeg]

can you please do prompt 12 with quinn hughes!

Thank you for requesting <3 - Merry Christmas!

FLUFF #12 "Just pretend to be my date."

📞 dialling…

She stared at him directly in the eye, blinking like a deer in headlights at Quinn’s pleading face. Quinn Hughes, the man she had known since childhood, stood the closest he ever had before, minty breaths fanning over cheeks, in front of her in his parent’s empty kitchen with his hands clasped over hers. 

“Please, just pretend to be my date. Even if it’s for the next few hours or so, you know they ask every year, and I don’t need her doing that speed dating shit again.” He begged so quiet his voice rumbled in her ears and flushed heat up her neck, heart hammering in his chest hearing his aunt and uncle’s voices announcing their arrival from the other room. “Y/n, I swear I’ll make it up to you-”

“-Okay.” She smiled as his eyes lit up brighter, a familiar pull in her chest that tugged every time she was in the room with him, like two magnets trying to meet. They’d been through this same annual Hughes-l/n Christmas event for years, since they were kids, and every year it was always his nosey aunt who asked him if he had a girlfriend, fiancée or wife yet to which he always awkwardly had to think of some excuse. 

“Quinn! There you are my superstar!” his nosey aunt’s voice rang out into the kitchen. Quinn stood up straight, arm automatically wrapping around y/n’s waist and his hand finding comfort on her hip. Something about the gesture felt alleviating, perfect, natural, y/n responding with her arm winding around his torso, palm soothing over his back for reassurance periodically. “Y/n! Oh my, you look as gorgeous as ever! Look at you both, so grown up.”

“Aha, yeah,” he forced a laugh, feeling her beady eyes flicker between himself and y/n. Y/n leant her head into him, his whole charade starting to feel less like a favour and more real with the longer they held each other. 

His aunt gasped, making them both flinch and his grip tighten. She soaked in the sight, the way that even after all the years, they still fit in each other’s figures and still looked at each other the same way. They were still the kids who would sneak off to Quinn’s room, and on one occasion, had their first kisses there. 

“You two!? How long? Tell me everything, I must know! Has he proposed yet? When’s the wedding? I have to write this down, am I getting a niece or nephew? Oh finally! Y/n, Quinn’s been talking about you for years and the way he looks at you, oh my-” 

“Caroline, relax,” y/n smiled, heart almost stopping when his thumb rubbed her hip gently, “It’s been a year, so we’re still at the start. We’ve only just discussed living together.” 

No other words were spoken, and his heart swelled, Caroline took her dramatic exit to find her husband. Quinn and y/n exhaled, bodies slumping into each other and melting into each other’s embrace, her ear pressed to his chest while her hands gave his back a reassuring rub. 

“So, you’re moving in huh? At least let me take you on a date first, show you what I can offer.” He chuckled softly, pulling away to cup one of her cheeks, her eyes glistening under the bright lights as she leant into his palm and one thousand little fireworks exploded inside her chest at once.

“Talking about me for years, huh? Damn, couldn’t even tell your best friend who you had a crush on,” she joked, catching his genuine smile creep into his face with rosy cheeks, “But a date sounds nice, I’d like that.” 

They basked in a pleasant silence between them, the world pausing in each other’s steady eyes until choruses of surprised voices echoed from the living room. Quickly, he slipped his phone from his pocket, using his free hand to text his brothers the situation before slotting it back, cupping both her cheeks with his hands and puffing his chest out. They had only a few minutes to figure out a story, but in hindsight, they’d been in love with each other for so long, it wouldn’t be that hard.

[princessbrunette]

omg i was doing a little deep dive on your page (cos wtf else would a girl be doing) and i saw you say something about pope and bunny!reader and i cannot get it out of my head like omg????

her throwing a little fit because she messed up her makeup or something and hes just gentle with her making her realise how small that problem is and he just keeps her down to earth

he’d be so gentle and patient oh i’m gonna cry.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 🐰ྀི ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

it almost makes him jump, the whiny “no!” that suddenly explodes from your side of the room as you do your makeup. pope was on his laptop, putting together some finishing touches on the research he was doing for a project that you felt was a little too complex for you to grasp. he blinks, looking over at you huffing as you stare into the mirror, teary eyed with a huge blob of mascara on your cheek.

“i messed it up! i got it over my flawless base so now i’m gonna have to wipe it off and do it again and i’m gonna cry so now my eye makeup is gonna be ruined too!” your voice seems to strain higher and higher as your brows furrow, and your boyfriend knows it’s only a matter of time before you’re throwing a crying fit on the bed. he knew how to work fast, luckily.

“you’re okay, i’ve got you.” he shrugs as he quickly manoeuvres across the room to squat infront of you where you were sat infront of the mirror. “all i’m seeing is a tiny mistake that can be fixed. don’t be upset.” he waves your hands away gently as he cups your jaw gently, tilting your head back into the light. “now if i could just have a little look…”

he inspects you for a moment, mostly just taking in how beautiful you look before his face lights up. “easy, okay — i saw this hack on my tiktok feed where you let the mascara dry and then you just gently rub it with one of those… where is it —” he bends over slightly to look at all your brushes standing in their pot because plucking out a spoolie. “aha— this. you just rub on it a little and it’ll flake right off. totally foolproof.” he smiles, and your heart swells. blinking the tears back into your eyes, you let out an airy giggle.

“you get makeup videos on your tiktok?” you ask as he gently blows at your cheek, ensuring the mascara has probably dried onto your skin.

“hey, i only watch them because of moments like this— so i can help you.” softly, you feel him brush lightly at your skin before pulling back victoriously. “okay, not that i didn’t expect that to work… but that was really easy.” he’s grinning victoriously. you check the mirror before clapping your hands happily, letting out a little squeal. “you haven’t put on your lipgloss yet.” he suddenly announces.

“so?” you blink dumbly up at him.

“so, i get to do this.” he smirks, before pulling you in for a kiss.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 🐰ྀི ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[cherryl4na]

❥•°❀"bricks, bytes and bonds"

abstract || lando is streaming as the to of you build legos.

female!reader || cute. fluff. lando in love. 1.3k words

The soft glow of the computer screen illuminated Lando's face as he sat comfortably in his gaming chair, headphones snug over his ears. His fans eagerly tuned in, their messages flooding the chat with excitement and anticipation. Among them was you, the person who made his heart race with every smile and every shared moment.

"Hey everyone!" Lando greeted, his voice warm and cheerful. "Today's stream is gonna be a bit different. I've got someone special joining me." He winked at the camera, causing a flurry of delighted reactions from his viewers.

You appeared on screen, settling into the seat beside him, a large box of Lego bricks between you two. Lando's smile widened as he introduced you, his eyes gleaming with affection. "This is my girlfriend as you all know," he said, "and today, we're gonna build the awesome McLaren Formula 1 car together!"

The chat exploded with emojis and supportive messages, everyone thrilled to see Lando sharing this moment with you. You exchanged a playful grin, fingers already digging into the collection of colorful bricks. Lando picked up the instruction manual, his voice animated as he began guiding the both of you through the build.

"So, darling," Lando began, his voice teasing, "are you ready to witness my amazing Lego-building skills?"

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. "I think I might just surprise you, Lando."

The banter flowed effortlessly as you worked together, occasionally stealing glances at each other that spoke volumes more than words ever could. Lando's chat became a mix of admiration for the Lego set and endless questions about your relationship. Through it all, Lando remained composed, occasionally leaning closer to you to show something in the instructions or to share a whispered comment that made you blush.

As the build progressed, you found yourself engrossed in the intricate details of the McLaren F1 Lego set, each piece fitting snugly into place under your careful guidance. Lando couldn't help but admire the way you approached the task with a mix of focus and joy. Your fingers moved swiftly, deftly navigating the instructions, occasionally pausing to inspect a piece or exchange a playful remark with him.

Lando leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you with unabashed admiration. As you delicately placed each piece of the McLaren F1 Lego set, his heart swelled with affection. The way your concentration furrowed your brow slightly, the way your hands moved with purpose—it was enchanting to him.

His fans noticed the shift in his demeanor, their comments in the chat taking on a slightly different tone, teasing Lando gently about his focus on you rather than the Lego build. Lando chuckled, unable to hide his smile as he glanced briefly at the chat before returning his gaze to you.

"You're incredible, you know that?" Lando murmured, his voice low and filled with sincerity.

You looked up from the instructions, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. A blush crept onto your cheeks as you met his eyes, finding nothing but warmth and admiration reflected back at you. "Thanks, Lando," you replied softly, your heart fluttering at his words.

He leaned closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "I mean it," he continued, his breath brushing against your lips. "I love watching you in your element."

Your breath caught in your throat, the closeness of his touch sending shivers down your spine. It wasn't just his words—it was the way he looked at you, as if you were the most fascinating person in the world, the way his smile softened into something tender and genuine.

Unable to resist any longer, Lando leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. It was gentle and filled with all the unspoken feelings that had been building between you throughout the stream. The world seemed to fade away for that brief moment, leaving just the two of you and the warmth of your connection.

When he pulled back, Lando's eyes searched yours, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "I love you," he said softly, his voice filled with pride. The microphone had still picked up his words, the chat beginning to go crazy at the sweet moment between the two of you. Looking into his gorgeous eyes, with a soft giggle, you reply, “I love you too, Lando,” before getting back to building the Lego.

Hours passed in what felt like minutes, the Lego set nearly complete. Lando glanced at the clock, his eyes widening in surprise. "Wow, time flies when you're having fun, huh?"

You nodded, smiling at him warmly. "Definitely. Thanks for letting me join your stream, Lando. This has been amazing."

Lando beamed, his hand finding yours atop the finished Lego model. "No, thank you for being here," he said sincerely, his voice soft amidst the backdrop of his lively chat. "I always have the best time when I'm with you, love."

The chat erupted in a chorus of 'awws' and heart emojis, showering you both with virtual love and support. Lando leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. He proceeds to leave a soft kiss on your cheek before he turns back to the camera, his smile wide and content.

"Well, ladies and gents," he announced, his voice filled with happiness, "that's all for today's stream and I hope you all enjoyed us building and talking to you all. Thanks for hanging out with us! My girlfriend and I are gonna sign off now, but I'll catch you all maybe on the next stream. Who knows, she might be a guest again."

And with that, the screen faded to black as Lando shut down the stream and then the computer. The room around you grew quiet, filled only with the soft hum of the equipment settling into sleep mode. You leaned into Lando's side, feeling a rush of warmth and affection as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"That was so amazing and fun," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine admiration.

Lando pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "Not as amazing as you," he replied softly, his voice tinged with warmth.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love. "You're such a charmer," you teased, unable to resist a playful smile.

He grinned back, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Only when I'm around someone who brings out the best in me," he admitted, his tone sincere.

The room felt cozy and intimate, the air thick with unspoken affection and the shared joy of the day's activities. You nestled closer to Lando, feeling his heartbeat steady and comforting against your side. His fingers brushed lightly against yours, a silent promise of togetherness and support.

As you both sat there in quiet contentment, surrounded by the remnants of the Lego build and the warmth of each other's presence, you knew that this moment would be one you'd cherish forever. It wasn't just about the Lego set or the stream—it was about the bond that had deepened and blossomed between you, a connection that felt like coming home.

"Thank you for today," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with gratitude.

Lando turned to you, his eyes soft and filled with love. "No, thank you," he replied sincerely. "For being you."

You leaned in and captured his lips in a gentle kiss, a silent affirmation of everything you felt in that moment—love, gratitude, and a sense of belonging. The distractions of the outside world around you, drifted into nothing but peace as you melted into each other's embrace, the loving wholesome sweetness of the moment wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

And in that quiet, perfect moment, with nothing but the beating of your hearts and the promise of tomorrow's adventures ahead, you knew that building the McLaren F1 Lego set together had created something far more precious—a love story that would continue to grow with every brick and every kiss shared. Building Legos together might have been the highlight of your day, but being with him made it unforgettable.

an || okay this one was really cute to write honestly. it's such a contrast to my previous ones haha. anyways, as usual, i hope you enjoyed and till the next one!

©2024 cherryl4na. - please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

[onlygarden]

[noona, i'm not just a cutie] - nishimura riki

genre: fluff

description: ni-ki starts to grow tired of you babying him; he wants you to see him as your dependable prince-like boyfriend. ni-ki gets pretty dramatic but it's all meant to be taken lightheartedly. established relationship : )

a/n: my heart is GOING to explode i love him sooooo so much i wanna pinch his little cutie squishy angel face

ni-ki adored your every move to the extent that he couldn’t ever hope to properly describe it in words. with the way you always smiled at him so fondly, he knew your heart swelled with the same adoration for him, and that fact sent sparks of elation running through him. you were always so doting; you always lavished him with affection, and he truly loved it. he loved you so much, that he was sure his heart would stop beating without your presence. 

what he didn’t love, however, was the way you’d find the sudden urge to pinch his cheeks or squeeze his face in between your hands (especially when he smiled). sure, you were a little older than him, but that didn’t give you the right to handle him like he was a little boy. you always claimed he was your ‘little baby’, comparing him to all sorts of cute animals or soft inanimate objects. sure, whenever he grabbed your attention to tell you how pretty he thought you were it made a shy smile dance across your face, but you always bounced right back to treating him so delicately like he had ‘handle with care’ written across his forehead. 

your contact photo for him was even kiiroitori; he’ll never forget his confusion when you enthusiastically insisted he looked ‘just like him.’ these actions from you always left him utterly humiliated, feeling less like your boyfriend and more like a child. he grew annoyed at even the mere thought of you seeing him as a child. ni-ki was determined to prove to you that he was a chivalrous, dashing boyfriend and young man, not the squishy little baby boy that you painted him to be. 

“ni-ki, i made you a snack!” your cheery voice reaches his ears from your position in the kitchen. ni-ki stands up with the intention of approaching you, but he notices you already moseying your way into the living room with the snack you prepared for him. 

“just sit down baby, i don’t mind bringing it to you,” you tell him warmly, and he smiles a bit at your generosity before reclaiming his spot on the couch. 

as you hand him what you’ve prepared, his smile falls from his face. his hands now held a small bowl of various fruits cut into the shape of stars and hearts, and a glass of juice with a swirly straw gaudily perched inside. he stared at you as you traveled to another room in the house, happily oblivious to the embarrassment he was experiencing right now. 

you just couldn’t be serious.

it’s not like he didn’t appreciate you for graciously taking the time to prepare something for him with such thought. the sentiment was well received, but this was just way over the top. 

what was next, a tricycle? he was fed up. 

he gently sets down the two dishes on the coffee table in front of him before advancing through the house in search of you. he needed this to end.

he discovers you, carrying a basket of folded towels, and moves to grab them from you before you can reach the stairs. this was his chance to put a new side of him on display, he thought. 

“here, let me carry it for you,” ni-ki asserts, gently shifting the weight of the basket to his hands rather than yours. 

“it’s no problem ni-ki, i can carry it,” you smile with fondness, moving to return the basket to your grasp. 

ni-ki speaks again, interrupting your movements; 

“i can’t have my pretty girlfriend carrying this all by herself. let me do it,” ni-ki tells you, a charming lilt drifting through his voice. 

you blush at his bold, charismatic words, the deepness of his voice suddenly becoming more apparent to you as your cutie ni-ki shimmers like such a gentleman before your eyes. you manage to utter a “thank you, ni-ki,” as he ascends the stairs. what’s gotten into him? you ponder, moving to sit on the couch as you tried (and failed) to heave yourself out of your ruffled state.

ni-ki returns, plopping beside you, a sharp confidence surging through him and casting an evident smirk across his face. 

however, you once again send ni-ki plummeting meters below the glory he felt from showing you how dependable of a boyfriend he could be; you lift your menacing hand, patting the top of his head, offering him the same tender smile you would give a puppy. 

“stop babying me,” he abruptly requests, his deep voice ironically pouty. “i’m your boyfriend, not some little boy,” he adds.

a coddling expression of sympathy flashes across your face. “i just can’t help it ni-ki, no matter what you do you just look so cute!”

this is torture, you thought. here he was, sitting next to you with an adorably displeased expression scattered across his face, but you would only upset him further if you succumbed to your thoughts and squished him. how does he expect you not to? he surely doesn’t realize how cute he is, you thought. 

you felt guilty, but even as he sat pouting beside you, he still looked overwhelmingly adorable.

“is my baby upset,” you say with a teasing lilt in your voice, poking at his side, a frivolous tenor tracing your actions. 

at this point, you were just ridiculing him on purpose. ni-ki decides to ignore you. he fixates his eyes onto the tv in front of him. 

“ni-ki,” you finally say, your voice now tinged with a mild seriousness. “what’s the matter?” 

he finally turns to face you, satisfied with your kind (yet belated) decision to take him seriously.

ni-ki leans towards you, slowly minimizing the distance between your faces, urging his lips to place a kiss on your cheek with feather like gentleness. he was within such close proximity; your throat began to tighten, and your face warmed up along with it. as if your flustered reactions weren’t already enough, he grabs your face with a mildly tight grip as he ushers a kiss to your lips. ni-ki pulls his face away from yours just enough to allow his eyes to fall into yours, appreciating the way your face beamed so abashedly, as if the realization that he was truly your boyfriend just dawned on you. 

“i’m a baby, right?” he hotly teases you, your mind flustered as this sudden uncharacteristic display from ni-ki makes you dizzy. he smirks at the way you stare up at him, too stunned to form a response. 

you suddenly smile, turning away from him uttering a “yes” and he giggles at the way you stubbornly refuse to meet his eyes. he begins trying to force your eyes to meet his, positioning his face directly in front of yours as you persistently evade his gaze. ni-ki laughs, his lovely eyes sharing a smile with his mouth. “noona, you’re adorable!” he teases, poking your stomach repeatedly, as you futilely attempt to escape his torment. ni-ki wouldn’t dare allow the opportunity to taunt your endearing behavior to sail by him after the constant babying he endured from you.

[lishens]

ʚɞ ⁺ ˖ ⸝⸝ ꒰⠀THE APPLE OF HIS EYE⠀꒱

He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers and breathes in what she breathes out. Caleb can be content with just this, he thinks. But even the snake was never content with just watching Eve frolic in the garden. What more of a mere man like him?

pseudo-incest. fem!reader is a virgin. dubious consent. caleb has an obvious thing for being the big brother in this dynamic. slight guilt. overuse of endearments and the term "girl" when it comes to describing reader. mild nipple play. fingering. pussydrunk!caleb. praise. slight mean!caleb.

“Why do you look at me like that?” It is a question that comes softly, almost sweetly from the girl perched above his lap. Caleb feels his heart swell, almost to the point of aching. She is his entire world, has been upon first sight as nothing more than children, but in this closeness where the space between them is almost nonexistent? Caleb can barely resist the urge to press his lips all over her face, leaving a mark on her in the same way she did with him.

All he does is smile, arms around her waist tightening like he cannot bear to part. In the silence inside his mind, he can admit freely that he will never survive without her. Everyone would say that it is a given, after all, they are siblings.

With their grandmother now gone, they only have each other to rely on. Family is where one must draw strength, their love and support the energy necessary to keep an individual going. But not like this, Caleb knows that much. Brothers do not lust after their sisters, should not want them in the way a man wants a woman. But he does. By all the stars above, he does.

A sharp inhale, letting the scent of her fill his lungs, then a whisper, “you’re just the prettiest thing I have ever seen.” An understatement, if there ever is one. Even goddesses in the heavens cannot compare.

The love that he has for his little sister is an immoral thing that would be sickening to any other. Caleb knows and understands, but he would rather sink into depravity than let go of her, of his feelings, and the hold that he has on her. It is only by small mercies, fate looking upon him kindly, that she never pushes him away.

He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers and breathes in what she breathes out.

Caleb can be content with just this, he thinks. But even the snake was never content with just watching Eve frolic in the garden. What more of a mere man like him?

The sound of her small exhalation laced with far too much affection fills him with life, it makes him move closer, their breaths mingling until they are breathing the same air — like he is a man drawn to her by some inexplicable thread. He is, and he always will be. “Am I?” She dares to ask, like she is not the most beautiful thing in his world, the only thing that lightens his days. She dares to ask, like the answer is not in the way his eyes can never be far from where she is, like it is not obvious how he gets tongue-tied in her presence, like his devotion can ever be questioned when it comes to her.

“Of course,” he whispers, lips curving into a smile. Warmth floods his very marrows, like liquid light and liquid love combined. A hand travels from her waist, to the side of her ribs, then to her jaw. He stares at her, the sun of his universe, and dares to caress the skin beneath her eye.

They are so close that Caleb feels like weeping, it has been so long since they have been this intimate, the only kind of intimacy he will ever get from his sister. It is enough, it has to be enough.

It is not enough.

They have always been a ticking time bomb, one wrong spark and they explode like a house of cards, of false families and relation threads that they never agreed to, crumbling down to ashes.

“Sweet enough to make my head spin,” comes the soft murmur, leaning in to press a kiss on the corner of her lips. Caleb wants to say more and do more, to confess how he truly feels, but something holds him back — society, expectations, the rules he created to keep himself in check. But his restraint is rapidly fraying, a noose choking his neck. “My darling girl, my pretty girl.”

His heart beats like the fluttering of a hummingbird’s wings, each throb echoing the truth of his words. He loves her like he loved no other, like he will love no other. It is her or no one at all.

A muffled noise, the sound of pure delight. Caleb hears her laugh and wants to bottle the sound, keep it safe forever. “Yours?” She asks in a small voice, hesitance in the way she looks at him, and something in him just shatters.

She can doubt the rest of the world, but she must never doubt his feelings.

It is a question that does not require an answer, his constant presence beside her speaking for itself, but he needed her to understand how much she means to him. “You are,” Caleb confirms, voice low and almost stern. He captures her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it upwards so they can stare into each other’s eyes and she sees the truth of his words. There is no room for doubt in his heart, his mind, and his soul.

“Really?” She asks, like she cannot believe that she is so precious to her big brother. Her eyes are wide, almost in awe at the mere thought of his need to possess her.

The lines begin to blur, brother and sister, man and woman — a yearning heart to another heart that wants. But maybe, they have been blurred since the very beginning. Maybe, they have always been doomed, their fates written in a way that they will be made to devour each other one way or another.

“Really,” he insists, a hint of frustration seeping into the tone. Caleb leans forwards, having to take a deep breath to calm himself. “Foolish girl, you have to understand,” he trails off, the words not rising, struggling to find the correct ones — the ones that will speak the truth of the enormity of his feelings. How can he ever dare speak of what he feels without scaring her? How can he ever convey them in a way that is enough, that encompasses all that he feels when no words seem suitable? A long pause, having to take a deep breath that sounds loud as a bang in the tension between them. “You have always been mine, not my sister, never as my sister. You have always been the sun in my universe, the bright star in which I revolve around. I’m nothing without you, the life inside of me cannot exist without your presence. I am yours, just as much as you are mine.”

Silence ensues, his eyes desperate to see anything from her features — it can be hatred, disgust, anger. Anything, anything at all. He dares not to hope, not when his feelings do not require to be returned.

“Caleb,” she begins, tone soft and gentle like soothing a spooked animal, and he feels his breath get caught in his lungs. “Caleb, I love you. I have always loved you and it scared me sometimes.”

A sigh of disbelief comes falling, then joy. An overwhelming sense of relief soon washes over him at the admission as it finally sinks into his mind what she just said. Hope surges upwards, overtaking all of his sense of reason. He holds her cheeks between gentle palms, thumbs rubbing gently on the warm skin.

“Hush, it’s okay to be scared,” he coos, tucking a stray strand behind her ear, keeping his touch soft and careful. “But you have to trust in me, in us. Can you do that for me, sweet girl?”

Sharp gaze tracks the way she bites on her bottom lip, considering his request. It is obvious how terrified she is by this change, but also incredibly tempted. It is new territory, but not only for her, also for Caleb. Her trust in him wins out in the end, her head nodding once then twice, shaky hands reaching to hold on to his shoulders. “Yeah, I think— I think I can, b-but I don’t know how.”

Relieved, he leans in much closer until their lips are barely a hair's breadth from one another. “Just follow my lead, okay?” The tone of his voice is low, reassuring. Palm moving from her cheek down to her throat, trapping it in his grip in a gentle hold. Caleb presses his thumb right above her pulse, just to feel her heartbeat against his skin. It is not even a want, it is a need.

He soon tilts her head upwards, letting their lips meet in a tender press.

The world turns quiet, and he can almost weep from the joy just one kiss can bring him. The guilt exists in the periphery, but it is easily ignored in favour of her skin against his.

How can he ever think of anything else when he has her on his lap like this?

Caleb pours all of his love, his desires, into the kiss in hopes that she can feel the depths of his feelings. His teeth scrape the plush brim, tugging on it just to hear her whine, and whine she does. A low groan comes in response, his hand moving even further downwards to pull her even closer, a bruising grip on her hips.

He wants to devour her, to consume her entirely, but this is new for the both of them and he does not want to overwhelm her.

Fraying control makes Caleb move gentler, more coaxing than demanding. A sensual rhythm that cares not for her inexperience, just wanting her to enjoy the act of kissing him, of feeling all his love.

Breaking the kiss just enough to catch his breath, he pulls away from her mouth to look at her with hunger, pupils dilated as he marvels at how she responds. “Pretty fucking thing,” he hisses, more to himself than to her. The hardness of his arousal pressing insistently between her legs, evidence of his growing need.

“You make me feel things,” she trails off, looking away from Caleb as she struggles to find the right words, “things I never felt before.”

The heat on her cheeks seems to further warm from embarrassment at how wanton she appears. It makes him warm inside, even more when she does not dare pull away, does not dare break the intimate connection of their bodies. “I know what you mean, it’s nothing I’ve ever felt before either.”

His hands start to wander, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to caress the skin of her lower back. Caleb marvels at her softness, the warmth of her flesh. Slowly, and with utmost care, he begins to move his hands higher to map the contours of her body; lips trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat. When she squirms, he makes shushing noises, “it’s okay, we can take our time.” But he still tugs her shirt off, exposing the bare expanse of her torso.

The sight of the swell of her breasts, peeking above the neckline of her bra, makes his mouth turn dry and he has to swallow hard.

“Gods,” he croaks out, instinctively leaning forward to mouth at her collarbone. “You’re so gorgeous, prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”  Caleb’s palm moves to cup her breast, sliding underneath the pad of her bra to brush his thumb over her nipple, watching with delight as she twitches in response.

Impatient, he pushes her bra down until it bunches around her waist. Surging forward, he takes a nipple into his mouth without care for her squirming. He suckles on it gently, teasing the bud with his tongue at the same time his fingers pinch and twist the other. Free hand travels down her stomach, dipping into the waistband of her shorts to explore the dripping folds of her core.

He can already tell how wet she is, how ready she is to take him.

“Oh, baby,” he coos. “You’re so messy.”

It is a mockery, and Caleb can feel how much she likes his words by the way she practically flutters around his fingers. Dirty girl, he thinks to himself. The digits trace the slit, moving them back and forth until his fingertips are soaked with her arousal before rubbing tight circles on her sensitive little nub just to hear her sing.

“Just let go, baby. Feel everything for me, hm? Don’t think, let me take care of you.”

He slides a finger, just one, curling it to hit that spot that makes her see stars. When she wails, tears pricking her pretty eyes, Caleb cannot resist the urge to grin. “Found it,” and it is with relentless attention that he moves his hand back and forth, never letting more than two knuckles be free from her heat.

She thrashes above his lap, trembling from the overwhelming sensation assaulting all her senses. A sharp cry echoes in their living room, salty wetness dripping down her cheeks as she struggles to breathe through the intensity. Every single time Caleb pulls his finger back, he watches as she gasps and shakes her head. “It’s too much,” she weeps. “I can’t— I can’t!”

Instead of stopping, Caleb only laughs meanly. All his vows of treating her gently had flown out of the window the moment he felt her tight cunt around his finger.

“No, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of her eye, tasting her tears. “It’s not too much. Trust me, okay? Trust your big brother to take care of you.” It is those words that send her falling over the edge, soaking his lap with her release as she cums with a strangled cry.

Coaxing her gently through the aftershocks, he soon brings his fingers to his mouth. Caleb smiles sweetly, before licking her arousal clean off of his fingers.

“Delicious.”

He cannot wait to feel her cunt wrap around his cock. This is his reward for being patient, it is what he deserves, and Caleb will never let her go.

© lishens ( 2024 ): do not claim, modify, copy or repost my works without permission. minors do not interact.

[kingkatsuki]

Thinking about a silly accidental confession with Kaji, because you just know he would have an entire photo album dedicated to you on his phone!!

It wasn’t unusual for you and Kaji to share phones, even though you weren’t dating. Swapping devices so you could create each other custom playlists for whatever new artist you were listening to that week, or searching through each others sound cloud to try and find that song you’d heard playing in a local music venue before the show.

The pair of you were so comfortable with each other that you knew each others passcodes, a fact that Hiragi took great delight in when he’d found out. Claiming that you could find out all of Kaji’s deep, dark secrets— causing his best friend to shoot him a glare across the table as he bit down on the hard peach candy he’d been sucking to stop himself from throwing back a retort.

But Hiragi was right— there was a huge secret that he’d been hiding from you, and one he was certain he’d take to his grave because there was no way you’d ever feel the same.

Kaji had left his phone on the coffee table as he’d got up to use the bathroom, giving you the perfect opportunity to pick it up and unlock it like you usually would. Intent on adding a new song you’d found by a local artist to his current playlist in the hopes of being able to drag him to one of their shows later this month. Typing in the digits across the screen as it unlocked and you were met with his photo gallery, not wanting to pry or come across an accidental lewd (no matter how curious you were) as your thumb moved to swipe out of the app but you paused when you noticed it.

Row upon row of photos of you. Candids mostly— of you smiling while sitting across the table in Pothos from him, ones where you were walking ahead of him beside Tsubaki as he lingered back, or your face pressed against the glass of an arcade machine as you tried to aim for a plushie inside. Along with selfies the pair of you had taken together, some with the ridiculous Snapchat filters Kaji had sworn he despised and barked at you to delete— bunny ears or fake blush filters on his cheeks, along with individual selfies of yourself that you had sent to him. And there was even screenshots of your conversations, or flirty and silly memes you’d sent each other.

And that’s the moment you looked up at the title of the album to see “My Everything <3” typed out. Feeling your heart begin to swell inside your chest as you were certain it would exert pressure against your rib cage and burst free, he really did feel the same.

“What are you doin’?” Kaji flopped back down beside you on the couch, his thigh nudging yours as he glanced over to his phone in your hands as he saw it, and for the first time since held known you he tried to snatch his phone from between your fingers roughly, “Give that back.”

“No.” You held it out of his reach as Kaji practically leaned his entire body over you to try and retrieve it, leaving your faces inches from each others as you met his steel-blue gaze, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you felt the same,” His jaw locked as he tried to fight the awkward sensation that throbbed in his tummy, certain he’d ruined everything he already had with you because he had to go and catch feelings, “It’s stupid, I’m sorry I’ll delete it—”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You cut him off as you tilted your head to the side in confusion, and Kaji thought you looked so adorable it took every fiber of his being not to lean forward and smash his lips against yours.

“Why wouldn’t you what?” Kaji felt his throat start to tighten as his mouth felt dry, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly to try and quell the feeling. Wishing he had a lollipop between his lips to stop himself from exploding as he tried to focus.

“Why wouldn’t I feel the same?” You gave him a soft smile as you dropped his phone onto the couch beside you in favour of cradling his jaw in your palm, feeling him lean into your warmth as your thumb stroked his cheek, “Because you’re my everything too.”

And that was all it took to have Kaji bridging the gap as he pressed his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

[stvrnioloslvt]

dilf!chris just can't resist you, no matter where you are

“c’mon, chris, jump in!” you exclaimed, laughing carefree as you jumped up and down on the spot, feeling the soft, smooth sand under your feet and the cold waves washing over you. a few drops of water splashed on your face, dripping onto your lips. you run your tongue over your bottom lip, feeling the salty flavour explode in your mouth.

“not a chance,” replied chris, his nose deep into a book he was reading. you pouted, watching intently his laid-back figure relaxing on his blue and orange beach towel, his hair still damp from the little swim he had earlier before you came. sensing your stare, chris lifted his head up, an eyebrow shooting up in a silent “are you serious?”. you crossed your arms, the soft swell of your breasts pushing up, the gold y-shaped necklace dangling prettily between them, catching and reflecting the orange glow of the sunset. 

chris’ eyes dwelled a little longer than needed on your chest before diverting his gaze on his book, sighing while slipping the bookmark between the pages and carefully placing it aside. he got up, stretching his arms before walking towards the seashore, closing his eyes as cold water hit his scorching hot skin. you couldn’t help but giggle, happy that, once again, he gave in to your wishes. 

“c’mon,” you whined, reaching your arms forward, “could you be any slower?”. chris gave you a pointed look before a breathy laugh escaped his lips, shaking his head in disbelief while walking towards you. he grabbed your waist, gently pulling you in towards his body as he kept walking further, the water level reaching your shoulders.

“chris, wait-” you gasped, scared, clinging to him like a koala, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “i can’t swim- oh fuck i can’t look,” you cried, burying your head in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes shut. 

“i got you,” he murmured soothingly, one arm holding you closer while the other rubbed your back slowly, doing his best to help you ground yourself. his hand descended to your thigh, giving it a gentle tap before he brought it around his waist, waiting for you to do the same with the other one. 

“relax, sunshine, you’re fine,” he cooed, cupping your jaw before he guided your face up to his. he chuckled at your scrunched-up expression, your eyes still tightly shut. “c’mon,” he laughed, patting your cheek a couple times, “let me see those beautiful eyes of yours, pretty.”

“can’t” you murmured through gritted teeth, “i’m scared i’ll have a heart attack if i open them.” chris stayed quiet for a couple seconds, biting his lips hard to stifle his laugh. however, he failed as soon as he noticed your scrunched eyebrows at the little giggle he accidentally let out, laughing loudly at your confession. 

“oh yeah, okay mr. funny,” you grumbled annoyed, reaching tentatively your hand forward to understand where you were moments prior, hiding your head in his neck again. you sighed softly as the cold metal of his necklace tickled your nose, toying with it between your fingers, delicately twirling it around your index. slowly, you began relaxing in chris’ embrace, breathing in the scent of warm skin mixed with salty water. you hummed contently, running a hand through his hair, slowly peeking your eyes open to observe as beads of water dripped from the ends of his long locks, some of them gently raining on your neck and shoulders. 

chris groaned, shuddering under your touch. he leaned in a little, enough to leave a trail of kisses up your shoulder, both hands squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before pushing your hips against his, grinding his own hips up. a small gasp escaped your lips, your head whipping up to look at him in the eyes.

“seriously?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “you had to feel my boner to finally open your eyes?”. his lips immediately found yours, one hand holding you close behind your neck while with the other he helped you grind against him as best as the position let you, bucking his hips up to follow your movement. 

you nibbled gently at his bottom lip, caressing the bitten spot with your tongue before he moaned impatiently, slipping his tongue inside your warm mouth. you whined, trying to ground your hips harder against his. “chris,” you choked out, desperation dripping from your tone. he nodded, immediately getting what you meant, wrapping his arms around your waist as he walked you both towards the beach. in a matter of seconds you were laying down on the seashore, the calm ripples of water flowing around and under you before going back, returning again a couple moments later. 

you pushed yourself up to your elbows, sand sticking to your back and hair. you didn’t care, though, not when chris was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, kneeled between your legs. 

“chris, we’re on the fucking seashore,” you blurted out nervously, turning your head left and right to check that there was no one with you. lucky for you, there wasn’t. “and we’re covered by the cliff behind you and the reef all around us,” he begins, gently pushing you back down, trapping you between his arms by the sides of your head. “plus, it’s like six in the afternoon on a monday, no one really comes to the beach anyway.”

you tried to protest, a small “but-” escaping your lips before you were interrupted again.

“and even if someone came, i truly wouldn’t give a fuck, i need you now. let them watch,” he concluded, catching your lips in a passionate kiss again. he pushed his hips against yours, guiding your left leg up and around his waist, humming satisfied as you moaned into the kiss. your hands found his hair again, running through them, careless that you were dirtying them with sand.

a new wave of cold water, stronger than the other ones, washed over you both, making you shudder. “fuck,” muttered chris, sitting up again to hurriedly push his swim shorts down just enough for his dick to spring out, hitting his abdomen in the process. you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the man in front of you even if you tried to, admiring the way his skin glowed under the sunset light, the sand decorating his pretty tan skin, and that stupid necklace dangling prettily from his neck hypnotising you.  

“chris,” you whimpered, glad that your bikini was already soaked due to your swimming. you spread your legs more, inviting chris to sink inside you immediately. chris smirked, stroking himself a couple of times before he leaned back on you, pushing your bikini to the side before rubbing his tip teasingly along your folds, tapping your clit with it a couple times. you whimpered, a series of pleas escaping your mouth.

 “i know, pretty, i know- shit,” chris groaned, relief cursing through him as he sank slowly inside you, pestering your neck in kisses and bites. you moaned, quickly covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your noises. much to your dismay, chris grabbed your wrists, pinning both your arms above your head. “need to hear you,” he murmured, picking up the pace of his thrusts. 

“oh fu-ck,” you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as chris hit repeatedly your sweet spot, his hips pistoning into yours making your whole body rock back and forth on the shore. your walls squeezed him in, fluttering as the known heat settled at the pit of your stomach. you looked up at him, your eyes silently begging for him to make you cum. 

chris smirked, running his tongue on his lip before asking “what is it, pretty?”, delivering a particular sharp thrust that had your back arching off the sand, your knees bending towards your chest for a moment.

“ch-chris please-pl…wanna cum,” you begged, wrapping your legs tight around him to keep him there. the man smiled, in his eyes a dark look as he grabbed both your wrists with a hand only, bringing the other one down between your legs to rub quick circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm came crashing over you hard and fast, your fucked out expression sending chris over the edge as he finished inside you, hissing when your walls wouldn’t stop squeezing him, actively milking him dry. 

“fucking hell, sunshine, you’ll be the death of me,” he breathed out, carefully slipping out of you and fixing both your swimsuits before he picked you up, laying you on his towel. 

“doin’ alright, pretty?” he asked, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. you hummed, nodding as you settled closer to his body, seeking his warmth.

suddenly, a familiar voice coming from the cliff broke through the silence: “man, are you two done? your daughter is asking for her ‘dada’.” both you and chris looked up, watching as matt stared back at you, his expression half amused, half annoyed. clinging to his leg was a four year old with long brown hair put in two pigtails and a set of eyes identical to those of her father and uncles. 

“hi dada!” she screamed, waving her little hand in the air. as she spotted you near her dad, she gasped. “hi y/n! come play with me!”

© stvrnioloslvt

ও

ও a.n: aaaaand here we gooo, round of applause everybody, we finally made it. p.s: we need to choose a name for the kiddo!

au taglist!:

@shadowthesim @sturnioloszn @marrykisskilled @x0x0bunny @izzylovesmatt @gabrielaperez11 @ivysturnss @watercolorskyy @bluestriips @sllutty-sturniolo @mattsturniolover @emely9274 @boomshakalaka12381238 @lovergirl4gracieabrams @sturnsrecord @strnilolover @wastelandzella @skye-44

[wendyyyyyyyy]

A New Year’s Kiss with your Husband, Chan

Pairing: Chan × fem reader

Warning: No warning, just fluff.

-> Happy New Year 🥳 May everyone get what they want and be happy and healthy 🤍

Enjoy!

------

The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of winter as the two of you stood on the rooftop of your home. The city below was alive with laughter, music, and the electric hum of excitement as everyone waited for the countdown to the new year. But for you, none of that mattered—not when you had Chan by your side.

Bundled up in a cozy scarf and his favorite jacket, Chan’s hand was laced tightly with yours, his warmth seeping into your skin even in the cold night. His smile, that radiant, dimpled grin, was brighter than the strings of fairy lights twinkling all around.

“Are you cold?” he asked softly, turning to you with those endlessly caring eyes.

You shook your head, leaning into him. “Not when I’m with you.”

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. “Good. I need you to stay warm. Can’t have my wife freezing on New Year’s Eve.”

The two of you stood there in peaceful silence, watching as the clock in the distance ticked closer to midnight. Chan’s fingers played absentmindedly with yours, his touch as gentle and familiar as a favorite melody.

When the countdown began, the excitement of the crowd below rose like a tidal wave. Chan turned to you, his face glowing with an expression that made your heart skip.

“Ten… nine…”

His voice was soft as he spoke, though it was lost in the rising cheers. “You know, every year with you has been the best year of my life.”

“Eight… seven…”

Your breath caught as he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Six… five…”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours. “But I’m grateful every single day.”

“Four… three…”

Your heart swelled as you whispered, “You’re everything to me, Chan.”

“Two… one…”

As the first firework exploded in the sky, painting it in bursts of color, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as soft as it was passionate. His warmth melted the cold away, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning.

When the kiss broke, the fireworks continued to burst overhead, but all you could focus on was him—the love in his eyes, the way he smiled at you like you were his whole universe.

“Happy New Year, Mrs. Bang,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Happy New Year, my love,” you replied, your voice full of emotion.

And as the night carried on and the world celebrated a new beginning, you knew that as long as you had Chan by your side, every year would be the best one yet.

-----

(In the clurb, we all delusional 😭 Had to write this on New Year's Eve)

[russo-woso]

Russo with a breeding kink where she begs you to cum inside her

Please || Alessia Russo

Warning smut 18+, breeding kink, strap on, cunnilingus

Summary You discover one of Alessia’s secret kinks

Walking out of the tunnel, you had felt just how cold the London air was.

Goosebumps started to rise on your arms from a mix of the coldness, and the cheering coming from a sold out emirates.

You looked across at your teammates and opponents.

They all had jackets on, your teammates wearing identical ones to yours.

Looking down at your mascot, you realised that he had no jacket on. Just an Arsenal kit on.

He was only about four years old and at that age, the cold was like glass. Dangerous.

“Are you cold, little man? Would you like my jacket?” You asked crouching down and smiling at him.

With a small nod of his head, you unzipped it and wrapped it round his shoulders.

Alessia, your girlfriend, watched the event from further down the line, her heart swelling at your caring and thoughtful manner.

Her heart wasn’t the only thing that was affected.

As you carried on making conversation with him, making him laugh and smile, before carrying him back over to his dad who was in the tunnel, Alessia continued watching, her ovaries feeling like they were exploding.

Her mind couldn’t stop wondering to the thought of you with yours and her’s future children.

Alessia pushed the feeling to the side, focused on the match.

But you didn’t make that easy for her.

As you gathered round for a team talk, you rested your hand on her waist, pulling her closer to you, and squeezing it.

Images of your hands gripped to her waist flashed in Alessia’s mind. Her head was against the pillow, her eyes rolled back.

The worst thing about all of this, was the fact that you two had never sat down and discussed the topic of kids.

You’d been dating just over a year but one of you chickened out just before asking the other.

When the whistle blew, Alessia tried her hardest to push the thoughts out of her head.

She knew this was a big match and desperately wanted to try and get on the score sheet.

And that’s what she did, with a 4-1 win over Chelsea, Alessia bagged two goals, but as soon as she met eyes with you, her mind was clouded again.

You had celebrated with your teammates before going over to a little girl who seemed to be upset.

Alessia watched from afar. The way you hugged her so gently to the way how you spoke to her, it all made Alessia desperate.

Desperate for her and you to talk about kids, but also desperate for you to get back home so she could reveal some new information that only she had developed within the last few hours.

After a team gathering, Alessia couldn’t take her eyes off you.

During the talk, you could feel eyes on you and you looked around the circle and met eyes with Alessia.

You could tell she was deep in thought with the way her eyebrows had furrowed slightly.

As the team separated, you made your way over to Alessia putting your hand in hers as you walked back to the changing rooms.

“Baby, where are we going? Are we even allowed to be back here?” Alessia questioned as you took her to one of the storage rooms near the changing rooms.

“What’s wrong, Less? I’m worried. You’re constantly thinking. I feel like you’ve been zoned out since we walked onto the pitch.” You told her, holding her hands and rubbing your thumbs over them.

Alessia thought for a moment. She thought about whether to wait until you got home but decided against that, wanting to know your opinion now.

“Do you want kids?” She asked and you widened your eyes.

It had come out so straight forward that it had taken you by surprise.

“It’s just that I saw you with the little boy and girl and I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like if we had kids, but then I realised we’ve never discussed it. Then I thought that you might want kids, but not with me.” Alessia continued as your face dropped at the idea of her thinking that.

“Is that what’s been on your pretty mind? Of course I want kids, lessi. And I definitely want kids with you. I’d want nothing else than to have a baby with you. Now, is that the only thing that’s been on your mind?” You questioned her, noticing how her face changed as if she was embarrassed. “Remember, you can tell me anything, pretty girl.”

“It’s just, I thought about our future kids but I also thought about how you would you know.” Alessia responded, her answer vague and leaving you with no answer.

“How I would what?” You asked, your hands on her waist now.

“How you would fuck me if you could get me pregnant.” She announced, by the looks of it, shocking herself at her boldness.

A smirk appeared on your face as the thought flashed around in your head.

“Get your things, we’re going home. I’m gonna fuck you so good when we get home.” You whispered the last bit in her ear, pressing a light kiss to her temple before walking out like nothing had been discussed.

————————

The ride home was silent.

Both, you and Alessia, deep in thought about what events would unfold when you got home.

As you walked through the door, you dropped your stuff on the floor, immediately picking up Alessia bridal style before carrying her up the stairs.

You placed her in the centre of the bed before climbing on top of her.

Hungrily, you placed your lips on hers, Biting down her bottom lip to allow your tongue to slip in her mouth.

In the meantime, your fingers played with the hem of her shirt.

You pulled it above her head, catching your breath before latching your mouth on her neck.

Small whines escaped Alessia’s mouth as you sucked on her pulse point.

You lifted her back, reaching to unclip her bra.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, Less. Gonna fill you with all my babies.” You whispered as you kissed the valley of her breasts.

In response, Alessia just let out a moan, telling you that she wanted this badly, and she had wanted it for a long time.

You continued kissing down her body, Alessia squirming at every one of your kisses.

As you reached her pussy, your tongue instinctively swiped through it.

You moaned into her pussy, the taste of her and Alessia’s hands in your hair making it pleasurable for you.

You continued to lap your tongue over Alessia sweet spots.

Alessia and you had always explored sex since you started dating and so it was safe to say that you knew Alessia’s body as if it was yours.

You knew exactly what pressure to use when at certain points of her body, more specifically her pussy.

Flicking at her clit, you could tell she was getting closer by the second.

The way how her core started clenching every time you added pressure, the way how her fingertips pressed harder at your skull.

Just before Alessia tipped off the edge, you stopped what you were doing and took your face away from her core.

You looked up just in time to see Alessia groan and throw her head back against the pillow in annoyance.

“It’ll be worth it, pretty girl. I promise.” You said, pressing a kiss to her cheek as you leaned towards the bed side table, grabbing the new strap you’d bought days prior.

This strap also happened to be the biggest strap that you’d ever used on Alessia.

You attached it to the harness before setting it up on you.

Alessia stared at you as you put it on, her eyes widened at the thought of you inside her.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and take it, okay? I’m gonna make you a mama, gonna get you pregnant and you’re gonna have my baby.” You told Alessia whilst lining up the strap with her pussy. “You’re gonna be such a pretty mama.”

You pushed the strap more and more into her before eventually, your hips met her skin.

“Feel good, pretty girl?” You asked her, gripping onto her hips.

“So good. So fucking good.” Alessia mumbled, pleasure clearly running through her body.

“I’m gonna cum right there. ‘m gonna make sure you get pregnant. I want you to have my baby so desperate, lessi.” You said, thrusting harder and deeper into her.

Alessia’s moans increased in volume as you kept making comments about her being pregnant.

This is what she had dreamed of for weeks, ever since the thought popped into her mind.

“Oh god. I’m gonna cum, Y/N. Please cum inside me. Please.” Alessia begged, her mind solely focused on the pleasure coursing through her veins and the thought of you coming in her.

“I will, pretty girl. Don’t worry, I will.” You promised her, continuing to thrust into her so you could tip yourself over the edge.

Low groans escaped past your lips as your high took over.

Your ground into Alessia, getting you and her through your highs.

“Fuck. I think I enjoyed that more than you.” You told Alessia, gently slipping out of her before laying down next to her.

“I can’t tell you how much I wanted that.” Alessia whispered tiredly as she rested her head on your bare chest.

“I meant what I said, Less. I do want a baby with you. Not now, obviously. But when the times right, I want us to have a baby.” You admitted, playing with her hair.

“I want us to have a baby too.”

“I promise we will.” You said, pressing your lips to her forehead. “We’ll have a baby. But for the time being, I think it’s best if we stick to the baby making process.”

Requests are open :)