#these two bring me comfort in these trying times

[deathbxnny]

Can you do how the arcane characters would react to you having a Panic attack/panick attacks

Arcane characters reacting to you having a panic attack! | Caitlyn, Sevika, Jinx, Vi x Gn!Reader

Thank you for your request, Anon! I absolutely loved writing this, so I hope you'll enjoy it!<33

Content: Panic attacks, fluff, swearing, established relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAITLYN

Her first instinct is to immideatly take you somewhere safe and private when she notices the panic attack approaching. She has very good intuition and has observed you for long enough to know your cues and signs, but sometimes even her own senses about you fail her during acute attacks that come out of nowhere. This doesn't mean that you can't rely on her to take care of you anyway.

"Hey, hey... let's breathe together, okay? Alright. Deep breathe in... hold it... and now release slowly... good job, let's do it again."

She's very quick to react to your needs and usually tries to regulate your breathing first before anything else, as that's how she learned to deal with them in her medical training. Caitlyn will also try and keep some distance in between you two in case you need space and only come closer once you're ready for that. She's very gentle and patient, as she soothes away your fears and worries.

Later on, she'll gently hold you and spoil you with nice food whilst you finally calm down and rest. Cait won't ever push you to tell her what triggered you, but will encourage you to tell her how she can help you better next time. Something she'll probably write down somewhere for future reference for better efficiency.

》SEVIKA

The first time it happens to you around her, she'll admittedly be a little surprised. It's not like she hadn't seen panic attacks before, but she simply just never had to deal with them before. With that said, her first instinct is to wonder if someone had bothered you and, if so, how quick she can beat them up for hurting you like this. The last thing she wants is for someone to ruin that beautiful smile of yours, and the sight of you suffering like that makes her feel uneasy.

"Alright, tell me what you need, and I'll do it for you right now. I just... fuck, tell me how to help you, sweetheart."

Sevika will lean down to your level after also taking you somewhere private so that she can let her guard down in peace and focus on you. She's not good at comforting people no matter who you are, and she's certainly also not the most affectionate person out there. But she knows to keep her distance and focus on what you need from her in that moment. Your hyperventilating and short breaths worry her, but that's nothing she can't handle with some direction from you.

After the panic attack blows over, she'll demand a detailed list of what exactly she should do better next time. She doesn't like being unprepared, especially when it comes to your care and well-being.

》JINX

She has memorized absolutely everything about you and is the first person to notice when a panic attack is coming up, which makes her the best helper out there at that moment. Jinx immideatly springs into action and brings you to her hideout, where she knows things are safe and sound. No one can hurt you here, especially not with her around. She'll sit on the ground with you and take your hands in her own carefully. The girl doesn't make any sudden moves and just observes every reaction you make very closely, practically analyzing them to know what to do next. And her voice would be so calm and soothing whilst she speaks.

"It's alright, cuddlebug. No one's laying a hand on ya whilst I'm here... so let's just breathe together."

Jinx doesn't want you to feel alone whilst you're going through this and will be right there with you until the last of your tears have been shed. Afterward, she'll either cuddle you to sleep or get you something nice to eat. Either way, you're being treated like royalty by her, just because she doesn't want you to feel like she did when she still had to suffer through everything all on her own. Having you here is a blessing, and taking care of you was a way to pay you back for it.

》VI

Despite what people may think, Vi's intuition about other people has never failed her. She always feels so deeply for others. It isn't all too surprising when she is quick to notice your mood shifting drastically out of nowhere. Once the panic attacks start, she'll have enough past experiences to take care of you as well as she can. It may not always be perfect due to her inability to express her love and affection all too well in moments of panic, but she'll still pull through for you. Getting you out of danger and into a more secluded area, she'll wrap her jacket around your shoulders and try soothing your quick breathing.

"Hey, hey, hey, let's calm down, okay? I'm right here. Nothing can hurt you."

She may honestly slightly panic herself, especially as seeing you so distraught messes with her own emotions, too. Vi hates to see you suffer, and the last thing she wants is for you to potentially get hurt if you don't calm down.

Vi will most likely ask you what she can do better next time as well, since she secretly feels a bit disappointed in herself for not being able to do more for you. But she's open to learning how to be perfect for you next time, that's for sure.

[what-if-i-just-did]

"Are you okay?"

I spoke softly, so as not to startle him. I'd come back to the room to find him sitting up, and I could almost feel his panic and confusion. Upon seeing me, he calmed down.

"Yeah," he nodded, and it looked painful. "Just, I woke up and you weren't there, so.. "

I understood the problem instantly. I'd only gone to get water, but.. I would have reacted the same way, had it been him. Strange. Just days ago, I would not have hesitated to kill him. He would have easily done the same- nearly did, on a few occasions. Subconciously, my hand raised to the side of my throat, tracing an old scar. Very nearly.

Sitting down on the bed again, I could tell he was still looking at me. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Well... not beyond what We already know."

Right. We. Capital-W-we, like capital-U-us. Something that had happened in a single second that seemed to span a century. Mortal enemies to codependancy, a complete united front, within a second. We were lucky, We supposed. By myth and legend, the few that found what We did either came out with their sanity in fragmented shards, or did not come out at all.

Perhaps that's why We came out alive and sane- Well, sane... As close as could. One mind would shatter... but two would meld. Still incapable of grasping the... the magnitude, the insignificance, the severity of what We witnessed. Of what We know. But not catatonically so.

I sigh. We've spent the past few days in a hotel, avoiding Our respective teammates, mentors, minions, superiors... I know the exact look my mentor would give me if We even tried to explain this. How do We explain what happened to Us? How do We explain why there even is an Us, when We don't know Ourself? They would have his head most likely, or at least try to talk to me alone. But the difference, the line between me and him has thinned and blurred into infathomability. We don't know how, We can only guess at why. How could We convince them of it? The truth is We can't, and we know it. And his side.. has it's own complications. It's been days... We've been getting used to being Us, but We're running out of time.

"You're troubled."

Had it been anyone else, the observation would have startled me, seeing as how deep in thought I was. As it is, it's like he'd already been in my mind. Our mind. Days ago, my greatest enemy. Now, I don't believe he will ever be capable of even startling me again.

"We're running out of time. It's been a few days. They were aware of the risk in Our respective missions, but they will be expecting a result, and soon. Our corpses, or Our success. We need to decide what to do. We required the time to re-adjust, We still need more time, but... if We are not to do something soon, something to monitor or influence the consequences, then consequences will find Us, Our preferences and needs be damned."

He nodded. I didn't need more of an answer, anyways. He was already aware of everything I said. That's another thing, this.. near psychic bond. It wasn't like We could hear eachother's thoughts, it was more like.. like We had no need to. His body, his emotions, felt like an extension of what had originally been my own. We were still seperate and yet, connected. His feelings felt like an echo in my mind, his presence bringing me comfort despite feeling like my shadow. He was me, and more. He was still him. I was still me. But We were Us, and that was irreversible and incomprehensible.

Silently, we thought. Going through our options, sharing opinions, it required no words, no means of communication. Eventually We came to a conclusion. We would have to make sure that Our other halves weren't to be injured, that We weren't to be seperated, by either of Our previous sides. We didn't question those instincts, those needs. They had been instilled in Us the second we became Us, and it had left Us a scared, shivering mess as We clung to eachother, Ourself, for the first few hours. We had worked past that, had learnt to become seperate enough to operate independantly. Still, We stayed close.

It wasn't so much as that it hurt to be apart, as that it was massively unpleasant. Well, it hadn't hurt up until then, but We'd only been apart for short times and short distances since then- the bathroom, grabbing something, switching off the lights. It would not surprise Us if being further apart or for longer amounts of time would end up causing pain. We are One, after all.

Reassured, we both nodded. The lights had remained off, so there was no need to seperate Ourself. We slept in one bed, skin-to-skin, the closest We could get to physically being one. Social convention and strangers' assumptions were not something We were bothered by anymore. Although some leaned towards unpleasant accusations, We'd considered it an occupational hazard of almost always being in physical contact of some sort.

Sleep reached Us simultaniously, as it had ever since We became Us. It was a peaceful sleep, preparing for the day ahead.

Enemies who experience an inescapable horror together and can't imagine being without one another again

The one you hated just days before becomes the one you need curled against you to feel safe, the back of your neck now a hearth for his fiery breath while he sleeps. Flames that once terrified you have become a comfort, a barrier from evil that wishes for your shared demise.

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Fam: Pool Days

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: baby Ellie remembers how to swim.

- - - -

Ellie knows how to swim. She went to all the infant swim lessons and survival trainings just like Sarah did. You have no fear of Ellie's swimming capabilities.

But at some point over the winter, she forgot she knew, and developed a fear of water. The four of you took a trip to the local pool, where Sarah and Joel jumped right in. Even as Sarah was determined to take Joel down with all her might (to absolutely no sucess) Joel still had his arms stretched out ready to catch Ellie to jump in.

Ellie--bless her bitty chubby soul-- had no interest to jump in. She was almost two at this point. Bucket hat and fat floaties on her shoulders, she twirled her fingers anxiously, looking away from daddy with drawn browns.

"Its okay, baby, daddy is gonna catch you!" He encourages, curling his hands towards himself in come hither motion "You don't even have to swim!"

But she shakes her head, running back to you and clutching your legs for dear life.

"That's okay Ellie. We don't have to swim today. Do you wanna sit with me?"

She nods, her head buried between your knees.

So you and Ellie sat on the hot concrete and watches curiously ad ants lined up, grabbed crumbs of discarded food, and filed away to their cracks in the sidewalk. She pointed to them curiously, only occasionally glancing at the pool before shifting away and dedicating all her focus on the very dry ground.

The next day, you sat on the shallow edge of the stairs into the pool. It took some coaxing, but Ellie sat on the dry edge, and only managed to dip her large toes in at a time. Sarah continued to climb atop Joel like a tree, grunting and trying to pull his chest down knock him under water, but he just kept grabbing her and yeeting her 6 feet in the air to splash back into the pool.

Next day, Ellie's ankles kicked in the water, but she was still too afriad to get in any further.

"I dont get it. She knows how to swim," Joel complained. His biggest gripe is why he has to bring all these floaties day after day if neither Sarah nor Ellie were using them. He was also feeling a big dejected. You could tell he wanted Ellie to trust him with this. He was a great dad.

"Its a mental thing..." it really was. You didnt have any other explanation for it. You weren't gonna traumatize her by pushing her in and forcing her to fight or flight.

The four of you got close to the edge. Ellie saw the water and immediately retreated back towards the furthest fence, more content with swimming in the artificial grass.

"I figured she'd want to get in with me," he pouts. Joel saw it all going differently. That Ellie would feel more comfortable being around Joel, even if he carried her all day in the water. He'd swear never to let a drop get on her. But not even her favorite man was enough to sway her.

Joel miller is a great father. A great husband.

You....

You glances at Joel, who's walking closer to the edge of the pool than you.

The thought breezes through your mind, and you come to the conclusion that you are not as great a wife.

using all your strength, you shove him off balance and send him flying into the pool without warning.

He has no chance to get his anchor as he goes crashing into the water, elbow and head first.

On cue, Ellie screams and immediately forced her fat legs to run as fast as they can, straight to the water. Eithout a seconds hesitation that she's had all week, she launches herself at full speed, scrunches her legs in the air and cannon balls into the pool butt first.

You must be a really bad mom too because You didn't expect her to just jump in by herself!!!

But to your immediately relief, she bobs her head up and starts frantically kicking and paddling doggy style to reach Joel.

Joel resurfaces, standing tall as the water was only deep to his waist, and shakes his head annoyingly. He frowns at you before realizing there's a very fast moving worm coming towards him-

"daDDY!" She shouts concerningly. Even though everyone else can clearly tell Joel is in no harm whatsoever, she still pants hard as she pettles her way to him like his life depends on it.

Joel blinks away the chlorine in his eyes, in disbelief at her sudden determination. "ELLIE! You did it!"

He reaches out and grasps her into his arms.

"I save DADDY!" She exclaims.

"Ahh.. I mean you didn't really..."

He glances up at you with eyes that signal to him to shut the fuck up.

"you DID! You saved me from drowning."

"All by myself!" She coos excitedly. "Daddy I swim!"

After that Ellie was completely comfortable in the pool, with Joel remaining a 4 foot radius at all times (knowing he could drown at any moment again).

"I wanna push him in next!" Sarah protested.

Ellie screeches "NO!" And defensively clutched Joel's whole head as she sat atop his shoulders.

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist @jeewrites

[tswkento]

a.n.: hello!! i hope you enjoy reading this, this is pure fluff. ive been working on this for a few days so please be a darling and give it a chance!! thank you <33

c.w.: 3787 wc, fluff fluff fluff, lil bit of angst, hurt/comfort, whipped nanami ffs.

sum.: after years of excruciating yearning and pining, nanami can recall distant memories of the moments he thought he loved you and the exact moment he voiced his feelings, or—

4 times nanami thinks that he loves you and 1 time he says it out loud.

i.

nanami takes another sip from his drink as his eyes roam around the room, barely stopping on the faces of the people. they only ever paused when you came into the view; with your very cute, slightly tipsy smile and shining gaze, that got brighter whenever you caught him looking at you.

or maybe he was imagining things. after all, he’s been drinking too.

as he patiently waited for you to receive your present from under the big tree in gojo’s living room, nanami couldn’t help the anticipation bubbling in his chest while the other’s opened their gifts.

the game of secret santa was a nice idea and it was always a pleasant feeling — seeing someone’s joy over a simple present, no matter how well-thought or effortless it was. and it so happened that on the day yuuji and nobara came up with the suggestion, offering nanami a handful of small papers, he picked out the card with your name scribbled on it.

and although very much enjoyable — the satisfaction he felt at the moment was fairly easy to hide from the kids. he had an opportunity to give you something meaningful and no one would be weird about it since it was secret santa.

“oh? it’s from nanami!” you beam at him after you check the little card that was carefully attached to the ribbon. nanami nods down at you as he leans against the armrest of the couch where the kids are settled.

you eye the wrapped box in your hands with a curious glint and shake it a little, bringing it to your ears as you try to take a guess at what it is. nanami bites down a splitting smile, covering his mouth with the glass in his hand as he watches you tear off the wrapping paper, managing to slap away satoru’s impatient hands that volunteered to do it for you.

you open the medium, velvety box and gasp audibly, covering your mouth with your hand as you look up at nanami from your spot on the fluffy carpet. standing up abruptly, you look into the box again and stare at him with a petulant pout, the frown between your eyebrows calling for him to smooth out the crease of the skin with his finger.

“kento, i,” you take another look at the item inside the box and then back at him, “i can’t accept it, no way.”

nanami is acutely aware of the fact that everyone in the room is watching you two. he prays that the hot sensation he feels crawling up his neck isn’t showing itself as redness of any kind. but at the same time, he likes to imagine that there’s only two of you in the whole world right now and it turns his mind into a fucking mush.

he clears his throat and moves the glass away from his mouth to speak clearly,

“nonsense, it’s your rightful gift,” he puts down his drink with a prominent click and holds out his hand, “let me put it on you.”

your pout slowly dissolves into a timid smile as you put the box in his hand and step closer, hitting nanami with the barely noticeable wave of your sweet perfume. when he looks at you again and sees the way your eyes giddily follow the movements of his fingers, kento can’t stop the corners of his lips from slightly curling upwards.

at the contact with the supple skin of your wrist, his fingertips twitch — electricity running through them, up his arm and straight to his heart, the impulses quickening its pace. nanami breathes in through his nose slowly as he closes the clasp of the watch on the inside of your wrist.

“must’ve cost you a fortune.” you mumble with a dreamy sigh, glancing up at him only to find him already staring at you.

he pats your wrist with finality and lets you admire the accessory on your own, engraving the sight of your enticed expression into his mind. it takes him a second to realise that he has to say something and the alcohol that has worked its way up his brain makes him let out an unfiltered thought,

“worth it.”

your head snaps up at him and you beam at him before your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly with a string of thank you’s falling from your pretty lips. kento hugs you close with one hand, willing to ignore the knowing looks the both of you are receiving from everyone in the room, and thinks that he loves you.

ii.

nanami partially expects to see you when he enters the archive room.

you’re already settled by one of the few desks, fingers tapping against the smooth surface of the table as you read the paper whilst periodically checking on the screen of your laptop. the movements in the background seem to disturb your peace as much as kento tries to be silent, and you lock eyes with him, giving him a cute little wave and a bright beam that causes his brain to become empty.

when you notice the stack of papers in his hands, your smile turns sympathetic and you determinedly step from behind your desk, telling him that you’ll make him some coffee too. kento nods in gratitude and forces himself not to follow your temporarily exiting figure so he can stop thinking about how pretty your uniform looks on you and how much he’d like to spend time with you alone aside from the countless of times he’s caught you in this fucking archive room.

it’s a comfortable, quiet spot for anyone to deal with never-ending paperwork so it’s quite common for him to meet you here. probably one of the few reasons why he prefers this room — kento can always just get lost in random conversations with you and ignore the fact that he’d rather stay with you here than go to his empty apartment.

the tea you bring him is always something new. “i like to try new things” you beamed at him when he inquired about your little hobby, and then your face scrunched with disgust at the taste of your newly bought tea. at his eloquently raised brow you only rolled your pretty eyes and stood up to go make something different, at which point he couldn’t help his fond smile.

this time, situation seems to be a lot more dire because you bring two cups of freshly brewed black coffee with two cubes of sugar on the cups’ saucers. he’s already noticed that the reports you are observing are not yours and at his question you explain that gojo’s reports on his students’ missions are always an unorganised mess left for you to clean up.

kento doesn’t hide the disdain spreading over his features and focuses on his own papers. and at first, he doesn’t even notice how quiet you’ve gotten — by the time he finishes his work there is no sound of your pen clicking on the surface of your desk, none of the soft tapping of your fingers over the keyboard and the silence isn’t filled with your occasional hums or sighs.

oh, he lets out when he notices your form slumped on your table, head settled on your forearm with your posture situated awkwardly. that must be very uncomfortable, nanami thinks to himself before he stands up, pointedly ignoring the popping sounds of his own spine and knees, and strides over to you. one part of him really doesn’t want to disturb you, not when you look fucking angelic: cheek smushed against your forearm, lips jutted out in a pouty way and a tiny trail of drool escaping your mouth.

he wonders if you look like this when you’re sleeping on your bed too. maybe even more peaceful than this, with your head untied and your clothes more fitting for a good night’s sleep. kento wonders if he will ever be able to witness that dreamy sight.

he can’t resist the urge to touch your face; his fingertips hover above your cheekbones before sliding over the silky smooth skin, revelling in the suppleness of it before moving a lone strand of hair away from it. you’re so beautiful, nanami thinks, the prettiest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

and when you stir awake he doesn’t even process it at first, just stares down at you dumbly for a second before stepping away and clearing his throat because fucking hell, he’s in love. and you don’t even understand what’s going on. you crack your neck and groan in discomfort all while he stares down at you, all of his attempts at saying something failing miserably. you catch his figure being close and ask him if you were out for long, the slight hoarseness of your voice enchanting him completely.

and then his plans of sleeping early tonight get thrown out of the window because his mouth opens before his brain comprehends his thoughts,

“do you need help with these?” he can’t stand the thought of you working on this stuff for longer than necessary and going home so late at night.

you give him a reluctant glance and do the same with the papers in front of you before nodding meekly and moving your chair to the side so he can fit another one for himself. nanami thinks it’s a win/win situation: you get to go home early and he gets to spend a little more time with you. and it doesn’t matter that he’s going to wake up groggy and with his back hurting like a bitch, it really doesn’t. not as long as you are fine.

iii.

annual gathering of all the existing clans and sorcerers was something nanami liked to avoid as many times as he could since he found them to be just another pompous event filled with meaningless chatter and old traditions. for him, at least. most of the time he had missions so he was dismissed, but this year he was free and basically forced by director yaga to attend.

he exits the main building, fishing a cigarette out of the inner pocket of his yukata as his eyes search for a secluded spot in the garden.

his steps come to a halt when his eye catches onto your blurry figure, entering through the gates. his hand with the cigarette stick between his thumb and index finger hover over his mouth as nanami watches you stepping closer and closer to him.

the distance between you two allows him to observe you for longer; the way your hair moves with every step you take, your own yukata that makes you look ethereal with the way its colours fit so well, the slightly vacant expression on your face before you notice him too and beam at him. kento’s lips curl into a small smile as he decides to meet you in the middle.

“thought you couldn’t make it tonight.” he mutters softly, noting how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

something happened, nanami can tell that, however he has no idea what. you fall into an easy pace along with him, locking your arms behind yourself as you timidly glance at him. nanami can’t really decipher that look so he chooses to continue leading you both somewhere private. the cigarette stays in his hand, saved for later.

“yeah, i had a thing.”

“a thing?”

“well…”

kento points at the small gazebo hidden behind the main building to which you nod silently, and when you both settle on the bench inside of it, he notices on your face how you’re pondering something very seriously. so he tries to be as gentle as possible when he says,

“is everything okay?”

you stay silent for a few seconds and just as you open your mouth to speak, nanami realises that he might just be unintentionally forcing you to speak.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he suggests, leaning down a bit to see more of your face.

your profile is beautiful. in the twilight of the night, despite the fact that his vision gets worse when it’s getting dark, nanami can always clearly distinguish your luminous eyes, your beautifully shaped nose and your pretty, rosy lips. all of your features have been engraved into his mind ever since he’s found himself staring at you with adoration bubbling in his chest and warmth spreading all over it.

you turn your head slowly, the weight of your thoughts etched into your expression. you open your mouth to speak, but no words come out and you close it, choosing to remain quiet. nanami’s concern must show on his face because you only bury your face in his shoulder, inhaling sharply before leaning your temple against the smooth surface of his yukata.

feeling your body relying on him feels a lot better than he thought it would. the weight of your head against his shoulder was soothing, a silent gesture of trust and comfort you felt from him.

kento gazes down at you and in a moment of tenderness rests his open palm on his thigh, a discreet motion that offers support, the one that you clearly desire right now. it shows in the way your hand hovers over his, hesitant but eager, and nanami makes an effort of gently catching it and placing it on his thigh. his thumb doesn’t stop rubbing circles over your skin until he feels you completely relax against him, not quite sleeping, yet not aware of your surroundings either. in your head, in your own world.

and while nanami basks in the warmth that radiates from your body, enveloping him from the side, he can only think about how much he loves you and how nice it feels to be trusted by you.

iv.

nanami wonders if he’ll be brave enough to tell you how he feels.

to understand that there is so much love inside of him is to also realise that there is no outlet for that love, and it’s depressing to say the least.

his days are filled with meaningless missions that could only be described as temporary solutions to a permanent problem that is etched into this world, but he can’t just not do it. he can’t do nothing, he’ll never forgive himself if he stoops to something like that again. nanami must remind himself that this is his duty and what he’s been born to do, and by the time he’s done with his affirmations the curse is already dissipating into the chilly air of the night and he’s going home.

would you reciprocate his feelings? would you give him a chance to put his everything into making you the happiest person alive instead of constantly thinking about preserving something that is already damaged — the system that everyone’s living in?

would you let him be selfish and share with him everything that makes you ‘you’? your mind, your soul, your body, your presence, your emotions, your everything. nanami knows he’d give you anything you’d ask him. even if it’s his heart, even if it’s already completely devoted to you — if you ask to have it in flesh he’d rip it out of his chest and present it to you like the finest things in the world because you deserve it.

he doesn’t remember the day his heart started reacting differently to your smiles and your laughter. the transition of his feelings from ‘friendly’ to ‘completely enamoured’ was so rapid yet so fluid, something he didn’t realise until he felt the full extent of it. when his brain melted at the sight of your radiant smile, and when the slightest bit of physical contact with you sent small electric tingles through his body, and also when the desire to be in close proximity with you clouded his mind whenever you were in the room.

kento yearns to be close to you; he wants it so much his fingers twitch with longing to hold and need to feel. he wants, wants and wants, but he does it quietly and you know nothing. it’s crazy how he feels so fucking much even though he is nearly thirty and it’s no time for this kind of thing in the hectic lifestyle he chose to have, yet he can’t stop himself from craving it — your love.

it’s also crazy that these thoughts occupy his head as soon as he sees you. hears you. feels you.

“kento?” you’d call out to him sweetly, waving your hand in front of his face, disturbing him from remembering the minuscule details of your face and your microexpressions. “are you even listening to me?”

“always.” he’d say without thinking because it’s true.

you’d eye him sceptically for a second or two before giving him a pleased smile and leaning in to continue your storytelling, compelled by his lovesick gaze and completely ignorant to his hands itching to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. fuck, if this is hell.

he loves you, he loves you, he fucking loves you—

v.

“have you ever been in love?” you ask him casually as you pace around his kitchen idly while he washes the remnants of the dirty dishes.

it’s a peaceful night after a great evening spent with itadori and you, but itadori’s gone now and you stayed to help him clean up. though, naturally, nanami shooed you away with your every attempt at touching anything, telling you that your company is enough. you pouted at his nonchalant stubbornness, but didn’t try to resist.

nanami wipes the drops of water from around the sink and washes his hands carefully before he turns to face you, “have you?”

it’s a feeble attempt at moving the attention away from himself and onto you, yet it works and nanami can let himself exhale shakily when your gaze leaves him while you contemplate your answer.

“i feel like i am in love.”

nanami’s fingers close on the edge of the counter he’s been leaning against, eyes studying your dreamy expression whilst you idly gazed at the view from the window.

“he makes me feel very special.”

you glance at him for a second before stepping around the counter to stand by his side. nanami follows your movements carefully, mahogany eyes never leaving you as he tries to ignore the way his mouth dries at the mention of ‘he’. he does his best not to jump into conclusions and chooses to listen more.

“he does?” he croaks out pitifully, eager to hear more. his brain is frying.

you tilt your head up, fluttering lashes partially obscuring the sight of your piercing eyes. nanami feels his chest tighten painfully before he releases a semi-steady puff of air, waiting for you to continue.

“he is so gentle with me. treats me like i’m made of porcelain, treats me like i’m the only one.”

you are, nanami wants to say, but he can’t seem to form a logical sentence — not when your pinkie is grazing his hand on the counter and your lips soften into something serene, something content.

his brain seems to be catching up to his actions a little later than usual because before he knows it, nanami is allowing himself to occupy your space as he rounds you into the counter, letting his hand cage you. he knows his face gives it away; the longing he feels, the overwhelming need he feels to be yours and for you to be his, to give away the thing you rightfully own — his heart. but he has to wait.

“do you think that means something?” kento whispers tentatively, scared to push you away.

the corners of your lips twitch as your hand settles on his forearm softly, stroking up and down over the length of it whilst you watch him carefully. you don’t even know how much power you have over him right now and it drives him wild because he is hungry for everything you can give him. even the slightest touch makes him lose his mind and this— this is almost too much for one night.

“i don’t know.” you shrug, “does it mean something?”

“yes, it–” his trembling hand leaves the counter in favour of settling on the side of your face, fingers nimbly pushing back messy strands of hair away from your beautiful face. nanami exhales shakily before continuing, “it means a lot.”

“nana–”

“i love you.”

and then he kisses you.

he wants to fucking punch himself into face because there is no consideration of whether you’d be comfortable with him kissing you or anything else, it’s pure insanity that operates his brain and it leaves him 3 seconds later when he freezes and pulls away only to be pulled back by your soft hands on the sides of his face.

his arms wrap around your figure, embracing you in a manner that is more touch starved rather than romantic: with your body flush against his and his hands spread over the eloquent expanse of your back, his feet caging yours inside and his fingers twitching like crazy. nanami breathes in through his nose and focuses on your touch to stop himself from completely shutting off, finding the sensation of your fingers carding through his undercut and gently cradling his jaw to be very soothing.

soothing, warm, gentle, loving — just like he imagined it would be.

the softness of your lips is heavenly against his, the sweet taste of your mouth is even stronger as it fogs his brain and clouds his gaze, filling it with desire for more. nanami feels the restraints he put around himself coming loose with the hesitant swipe of your tongue over his bottom lip that prompts him to gently push into your mouth with his own eliciting a strangled moan from you. fucking hell— he has to control himself.

kento pulls away and his eyes are frantic in the way they scan you; noting the heat emitting from your skin, the shallowness of your breaths, how your chest heaves up and down and how your lips part ever so invitingly, luring him in. the thought of never experiencing this with you makes his skin crawl so he focuses completely on this moment, this second.

“why’d you– why’d you stop, kento?” you whisper into the space between you too, gliding your thumb over his cheekbone.

and you look so pretty. absolutely stunning, donning a sweet, worried expression that only spurs him on, adding fuel into his endless desire to tell you about how much he loves you. so he does, sealing every one of his confessions with a passionate kiss.

“i love you.”

[certified-sleep-deprived]

hi! I was wondering if you could do an Agatha harkness x reader comfort fic for self harm? it's totally okay if not!! 🫶🫶

Hiya!! I wouldn't mind at all! As someone who used to struggle with SH, it was kind of nice to write a hurt/comfort for it. If you guys need someone to talk to, my dms are open :')

I have been very slow with this because of tech week, performances for a play, and then getting sick, sorry!! I'm getting to all my requests I promise yall. This one was a bit shorter than I intended but I still enjoyed writing it

°Agatha with a s/o who sh's°

Warnings/notes: mentions and descriptions of self harm, blood, angst, hurt/comfort, soft Agatha for the win

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. You, there on the floor of the bathroom, were mid-way cutting your wrist with a knife as you stared at her with wide eyes. Your arm was covered in dripping blood as it started pooling on the floor. Tears spilled out of your eyes as she kneeled down beside you on the rough, tiled floor.

Her hand gently placed itself over yours that held the knife, and she softly pried it from your blood soaked fingers. You let her do so, as you know you couldn't fight her.

The knife was placed in the sink, and she took your injured arm in both her hands, not seeming to care about being covered in your blood.

"Agatha-"

"Why...? Why would you..." She cuts you off.

She is at a loss for words as she chokes on a sob, tears of her own spilling down her face. Guilt hits you like a freight train, and you hang your head in shame, and you try to take your arm away from her but she doesn't relent. She grabs your hips and uses them to pull you into her lap so she can have an easier time cleaning up your wounds.

The next ten or so minutes as she cleaned the cuts was full of winces and gasps of pain as wet paper towels and peroxide dragged and seeped into your cuts; it felt like acid was burning at you when the peroxide was used to clean any dirt. As soon as she was done cleaning your cuts, she made sure to press gentle kisses to every single one of them, like a dog would to its own wounds. She wraps your arm in moisturizing medicine and gauze to prevent it from opening or drying out overnight.

As you attempt to get up, she doesn't let you, but instead she picks you up and brings you to the bed you two share. She places you in a sitting position, and you can't meet her gaze the whole time. Noticing this, her voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Doll, look at me, please?"

She tilts your chin up, and she sees the redness of your face and the glassy look of your eyes that mirrored her own. All that is in your gaze is guilt and pain, and her heart aches at the sight. You try your best to avoid her gaze, but it's impossible with how close she is holding your face to hers. A thumb gently rubs your cheek, and instinctively you lean into her hand with fresh tears flowing out of your eyes. The same thumb wipes some of them away with tenderness.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but know I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

You nod at her words, and you take a deep breath before speaking to ground yourself.

"Its just... shit has been so stressful lately with my job making me stay later and raising my workload, all the deadlines, and then seeing someone from years ago who I had a falling out with today didn't help."

She looked you in the eye the whole time you were speaking, tentatively listening.

"I haven't cut in so long, but I relapsed just like that" you say with a snap of your fingers.

"How could I let myself slip". You weep for your relapse.

Her mouth opens as if she was going to say something, but no words come out. Not like they could as you spoke again before she could get the chance.

"I'd understand if you want to leave or anything. I won't judge or blame you."

~~~~~~

...what?

Her expression changed from that of a gentle one, to very confused as her nose scrunched up. Before you could get on a rambling train, she pulls your face to hers for a gentle kiss. It didn't last long before she pulled away and made you look her in the eye.

"Now why would I do that? You think I would really leave you, especially in a time where you need me?"

She continues holding your face in her hands, rubbing your cheekbones with her thumbs in a gentle caress.

Your gently pushed down on your back, and she lays on her side, facing you. A hand places itself on your bandaged arm and lightly strokes the length of it.

"I'm here for the long haul, no matter what happens. Im going to be here for you in your highs and your lows, darling. I won't leave because of you... harming yourself like this."

Your heart swells at her words, and you can't help the guilt train that hits you in the face, because she's staying with you even with your flaws. Agatha seems to have noticed the shift in your already guilty expression, as she cups the underside of your jaw, forcing you to look at her.

"Dont let anything eat away at you. Everyone had their was of... destressing, I guess you can put it. It isn't a way I endorse, but I can help you find a better way. That's why I'm here."

She looks at you with glassy eyes, brushing some hair out of your face tenderly. Your gaze flicks down to her lips and back up. She does the same and smiles, catching your gaze again as her lips find their way to yours. Her usual rough nature is pushed aside in this moment, a soft side reserved only for you as she tries to ease your pain.

"Let me be your shoulder to cry on. Don't do this when you have a bad day, come to me. I feel like such an awful girlfriend for not even noticing how you were feeling. I've been so wrapped up in mentoring Billy lately that I haven't even spared any of my time for you..."

She traces her fingers along the underside of your jaw as she talks. You grab her hand and you trail kisses from her finger tips up her arm before speaking again.

"Don't feel awful. I know how much he needs your help. The boy is just finding out who and what he is, so I understand. I'm just used to hiding my feelings and masking them, so that's likely why you didn't pick up on anything initially."

You look eachother in the eyes before embracing again, occasional sniffles and sobs escape you two before you separate and Agatha gently pushes you to lay down on the bed.

"Let's get some sleep, bunny. It's been an emotional night for us, so let's rest."

All you can manage is a nod as sleep starts to creep up on you like a fox. Agatha slips into the bed beside you and pulls you close so she is spooning you. The last thing you hear before you fall into slumber is a soft 'goodnight' from behind you, and then a tender kiss on your head.

[rnnsdrms]

f1 drivers and popular romance tropes: oscar piastri !!

DEAREST READER. i have finally let this sweet boy out of my cage. the root of my inspiration for this whole mission. unlike charles’ though, i went completely overboard with this one. i couldn’t help myself 😭 i failed to make it as low as 1k. i wrote it in google docs and it took 6 pages 😭. so, this is for the piastri girlies out there! i hope you’ll enjoy this one because i had a smooth-sailing writing his compared to the others !

CONTENT WARNINGS. reader and oscar’s age are a bit vague, but anything from primary school to secondary school age. this content is sfw but only 18+ can visit my blog. as for minors, you can only interact with this post and the masterlist. stay in your lane and all shall be well. also, r.i.p my english grammar !

WORD COUNT. 2704 words !

Yep, this boy is the start of it all. When someone said that Oscar Piastri gives off a loser boyfriend-slash-childhood neighbour friends to lovers vibe, I couldn’t agree more. So, I decided to stick with this headcanon for him. 

It’s the kind of story where your parents move into a new neighbourhood due to unique circumstances when you are young, and Oscar’s parents are among the friendly neighbours who greet your parents and you, bringing a welcoming gift to help your family settle into the new community.

When they come to your new house, you spot a boy hiding behind his parents’ legs. When they tell him to say hello, he steps forward hesitantly and extends his hand. You shake it, and he pulls back his hand quickly. Since you and Oscar are about the same age, your parents begin secretly arranging playdates. One reason is that Oscar needs a friend to play with in the neighbourhood, and at the same time, having someone to play with you helps you familiarise yourself with the new surroundings. It’s perfect. Your parents even put you in the same school as Oscar.

Childhood is a blissful mix of shared memories. Every Halloween, you and Oscar go trick-or-treating together, scaring the other kids in the neighbourhood and swapping sweets on the sidewalk. During school breaks, your family and Oscar’s often go hiking together or take camping trips to enjoy the crisp air and the vibrant autumn scenery. While the adults set up the tents and prepare the meals, you and Oscar roam around the campsite, finding the best spots to explore. You get along brilliantly with his younger sisters too, much to Oscar’s frustration, because the three of you love to play pranks on him. Whether it’s hiding his shoes before a hike or sneaking extra marshmallows into his rucksack, your playful antics never fail to make him groan. But you can tell he enjoys these moments, rolling his eyes but smiling as he chases after you, trying to get his revenge.

The cold winters are filled with skiing and ice-skating, both of you putting on each other’s competitive spirit to the test by racing one another from one edge to the other, eager to set the fastest time. But when the chill becomes too much to bear, you both retreat indoors, compensating with cosy movie nights to warm the atmosphere and pass the time. Both your parents have grown accustomed to the two of you visiting each other’s homes, to the point where they prepare your ( or Oscar’s) favourite meals every time you (or Oscar) drop by.

You remember how spring is always the most chaotic time for you and Oscar, especially for him, as he also divided his time with go-karting, but you both always manage to find time to study together. You often joke, ‘Aw, what would you do without me?’ and Oscar can only sigh and nod his head in defeat, knowing he’d be completely lost and his grades would be abysmal without your generous help. It is the season where schools overwhelm their students with endless assignments and preparations for the final exams. You and Oscar either do them in the serene atmosphere of the school’s or public library or in the comfort of each other’s homes. The subjects are difficult, but what’s even more difficult is studying in front of Oscar. That isn’t a problem when you are kids. But adolescence literally alters your brain chemistry and body shape, and you realise, over time, that Oscar grows more and more attractive. You never think you’ll ever see him that way. Sure, you always considered him a very sweet and cute boy during your younger days, even though he can be a little mischievous when he wants to. But you can’t quite pinpoint when you started seeing him in a different light.

Summer holidays are filled with camping in the woods, surfing at the beach, and volunteering together at the community centre. There is never a boring moment. But a core memory that will latch onto you forever is the time he suddenly came to your house at night. You are just about to sleep when you suddenly hear constant sharp thumps against the glass of your window. Initially, you are scared, thinking it might be a ghost or something. But you approach it anyway because it wouldn’t stop. When you open the curtains of your window, you see Oscar hiding in the shadows, one hand in his pocket and the other cupping small rocks. You quickly open your window.

‘Are you crazy?! What are you doing?’ you hiss, trying not to raise suspicion with your parents and the whole neighbourhood.

‘Come down,’ he says, his whisper tinged with a slight urgence. ‘I need to talk to you.’

You hesitate, torn between the need to stay in your room and the pull of his words. It’s not like you have never snuck out before in the past, but who knows how long your luck can last. Oscar stands below, his posture firm, insistent. With a deep sigh, you make up your mind. You can’t ignore him any longer.

‘Give me a moment, I’ll come down.’

‘Okay,’ he says, appearing happy that you listen to his request. ‘I’ll meet you across the street.’

Oscar waits for you as you cross the street. You hope he has a good reason for pulling you out into the dark of night. The two of you begin to walk side by side, taking slow steps throughout the quiet neighbourhood. You ask him why he couldn’t wait until morning to talk about whatever that’s bothering him.

‘I’ve made my decision. I’m going to the UK to pursue racing.’

At that moment, a flood of emotions wash over you like a tsunami attacking a seawall. Your mind becomes muddled, preventing you from finding any words to respond to him. But you know how much he loves racing. You have watched him race at the local go-kart track, effortlessly beating other kids. You have seen the pride beaming through him when he stands on the podium, holding a trophy. You have seen the way his eyes gleam and his smile widens every time he talks about his dream: to be able to compete in Formula 1. This has always been what he wanted, and deep down, you know you’d be a terrible person to try to stop him from pursuing what he truly wants in life.

Trying to swallow the shock down your throat, you ask, ‘When will you be leaving?’

‘Next week. My parents bought the plane tickets already.’

You look up at him. ‘Are your family going as well?’  

‘No. It’ll just be me.’ He pauses. ‘But I won’t be alone. I’ll be staying at a boarding school.’

‘Oh, that’s nice.’ Yet, you don’t feel any reassurance or relief when he says that. He is leaving. With each passing moment, denial grips you more tightly. You know this day will come, and it has. He has been telling you for a while now that he might leave Australia someday. But now that you are being represented with this moment, hearing him finally confirming it, still manages to catch you off guard. It is as you expected, you were never prepared for it, after all. The weight of this moment and the silence that engulf you and him presses down on you, like a boulder lodged in your chest.

‘Well, I’m going to miss you.’ You smile, putting up a strong facade. The sadness that tightens around your heart is hard to remove, and you hope the dim lighting of the streetlight and the pale glow of moonlight do not threaten to show the tears welling in your eyes.

Oscar nods, lips pressed together like how one would when they try to hide something. ‘I’m going to miss you too. It’s going to be hard without you around. But I promise I’ll try to call you—and my family—every week.’ He says, sparing you another soft gaze.

You chuckle, and let out a gentle snort.

‘You better.’ You reciprocate his gaze while trying to sound fierce, but your voice cracks just a little when you say it. Yet, Oscar does not seem to notice.

The air between you and Oscar settles into silence once more, albeit it feels heavier than the previous moments as you both continue walking along the pavement. Despite the silence, your thoughts are screaming, louder than anything the night offers that it becomes deafening to you. There are words you have been dying to say. All these years, you want him to know how much you like him, and more than just a close friend—how he has become the only boy you want in this wide universe. You want to tell him how you wouldn’t want any other boys touching you except for his gentle hands, how even a faint of his smile is enough to light up your darkest days. You can guarantee that there is no one else who understands Oscar like you do, and no one understands you like he does.

Should I say it? What if he just sees me as his childhood friend and … nothing more? The words you have been holding back press against your lips, almost bursting out, but you hesitate. You have been debating with yourself for so long–wondering whether you should tell him how you feel. It was now or never.

But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? Just because we are childhood friends doesn’t mean he will reciprocate your feelings, does it? In the end, you can’t risk it—not when everything is about to change. Besides, Oscar’s unbroken silence seems to give you the answer. If he felt the same, surely he would have said something by now. So, you decide that staying quiet is the safer option. You are not about to ruin the friendship you have built with him over something as trivial as romantic feelings—especially not when he is flying to England next week. It just isn’t worth it. So, for the rest of the walk, you decide to stick to safe, meaningless chatter with Oscar. Once the clock almost hits midnight, you and Oscar exchange a brief smile, say your goodbyes, and part ways. (What you don’t know is that as you walk back to your house, Oscar stops in his tracks. He turns around to look back at you, taking in your figure, trying to carve every detail into his memory, as if he is afraid he might forget you the moment he looks away. It is only when you finally vanish from his view, he walks home). 

A few years later, you are in your first year of university. It’s been lonely without Oscar by your side through high school, but he kept his promise to keep in touch with you through video calls. As for Oscar, he has become a main driver for McLaren in Formula I, and you were thrilled beyond words when he shared the news with you. You still can’t believe he is a famous person now.

One day, he tells you he is coming back to Australia during one of the two-week holidays between Grand Prixs, and you pick him up at the airport along with his parents. The moment you see him, you are ecstatic that when you both finally hug, neither of you wants to let go. You can feel the way his arms press against your back, squeezing the air from your lungs. After a moment, you both pull back—although you sort of initiate it first because you are conscious of his parents and sisters watching. 

That night, his parents invite you to join them for dinner to celebrate Oscar’s return, and while you refuse at first, thinking that it is more of a family reunion, Oscar insists that you should come.

After the meal, you help Mrs Piastri clean up before heading home. But just as you are about to leave, Oscar races to the door, calling out, ‘Wait! I’ll walk you back.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to. You must be tired—’

‘No, I’m not. And I want to.’ He cut, giving you an unwavering gaze.

You release a defeated sigh through your mouth, realising there is no point in arguing with Oscar, so you let him accompany you as you walk back home. As usual, silence fills the air at first, heavy and awkward, but after gaining some distance from his house, Oscar finally breaks through it.

‘I have something to say to you … something I should have said a long time ago.’ He begins with a furtive note, making you feel slightly uneasy but curious enough to know.

‘Oh? Is there still something you need to say that you didn’t already say over dinner tonight?’ You joke, trying to ease the atmosphere and him.

You see him hesitate for a moment. Then, he stops walking, and you instinctively stop walking too. Confusion starts to seep into your facial features as you look up at him. Oscar takes a deep breath and exhales the air through his mouth, before looking straight into your eyes with a brand new motive.

‘During my time in the UK, I found myself … constantly … thinking about you. There wasn’t a day I didn’t think of you—well, maybe only when I was asleep. And even then, I sometimes … I dreamt of you.’ He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he shifts his gaze downwards to the pavement. A faint pink hue colours his cheeks. ‘I guess I’ve been blind this whole time, or maybe I was just too afraid to say anything before I left. That eventually grew into regret.’

Your heart rate increases with every word he speaks, but your gaze never leaves his face. You can’t believe you are actually hearing this, especially after a few years. You think you might know what he is trying to say, but it sounds too good to be true, and you don’t want to get your hopes too high to protect yourself from the sting of a potential heartbreak.

‘I’ve always liked you, (y/n). More than a friend would. It’s … it’s always been you.’ He reaches his hand out to grasp yours. You almost shudder at his touch, but your desire for him channels through your hold on them, never wanting to let go. 

‘And I hope we can be more than just … friends.’

You stare at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly ajar. His confession has an effect similar to a nuclear bomb. Your mind is reduced to nothing. Oscar, noticing the blank expression on your face and your silence, shifts uncomfortably. But before he can say anything, you quickly avert your gaze, covering your mouth with your hand. There is a feeling of immense happiness and relief swelling in your chest that you can’t help but let tears pool in your eyes. But you pull yourself together, and turn to face him.

‘I never stopped thinking about you either.’ You admit, your voice trembling. ‘It was hard without you here. This place felt so much less like home when you weren’t around. Everywhere I went, everything I saw … It all reminded me of you. I’ve … I’ve grown feelings for you too. But I also didn’t say anything because I couldn’t risk ruining what we have, our friendship, and our friendship is so good.’ 

You take a shaky breath, smiling softly, finally letting your tears fall from your eyes. ‘But I’ve always hoped for more.’

For a moment, the two of you just stand where you are, overwhelmed by the weight of each other’s feelings. Then, out of nowhere, you both start laughing.

‘Oh my god,’ Oscar snorted, placing a hand over his eyes. ‘We’re both so dumb.’

‘Hey!’ You lightly protested, gently punching him in the arm. ‘Don’t lump me in with you!’

‘No can do,’ he teases, bringing his thumbs up to wipe the side of your eyes. ‘We’re together now … for real.’

You gaze at him. Your voice just above a whisper. ‘For real?’

Oscar nods. ‘For real.’

• ───────────────────────────•

SONGS FOR THIS SCENARIO: Taylor Swift – You Belong With Me, SEVENTEEN – Home, Dhruv – double take, lany – sharing you, one more, Jeremy Zucker ft Chelsea Cutler – this is how you fall in love

• ───────────────────────────•

˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗ ✦ ˗ˏˋ KO-FI ˎˊ˗

RNNSDRMS™. SUPPORT WRITERS BY REBLOGGING THEIR WORK. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR POST MY WORKS ON ANY SITE. I WILL POST MY POSTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA SITES MYSELF AND THAT’S ALL YOU GET.

[planetpedri]

Silver soul — Pedri González.

Pairing: Pedri González x Fem!Reader

Summary: When banter leads to an interesting chain of events.

Word count: 1.6k

Disclaimer/s: banter + fluff + light angst

A/N: i unfortunately did change the initial summary + plot but i’m too lazy to change the name

Annoyance seeped through your expression as your head turned to face Pedri’s. The two of you had been the last ones left outside when your friends has moved inside to do various things. You were expecting Pedri to leave along with them, wanting your moment of peace. Unfortunately, he was not going anywhere.

“You couldn’t possibly let me have any peace, could you?” Your eyes narrowed into slits as you shuffled in your seat, bringing your knees to your chest.

The fireplace casted a warm glow across the Tenerife man, making his face adorn a warm color that enunciated his features. You hated how good he looked, it make him so much harder to hate.

Pedri’s mouth forms a lazy grin. “What? You don’t appreciate my company?” He knew what to say to set you off, loving the way your face scrunched in annoyance.

“Not even in the slightest.”

His low chuckle made you even more agitated. He was so likable and charming that it pissed you off, not to mention how easy conversations seemed to flow with him. Every time you spoke, hours would pass without you even realizing.

Pedri leaned back in his chair, head tilted to the side as he looked at your stoic face as you watched the flames dance. “Ay, guapa.” His words catch your attention, your head snapping in his direction. [beautiful]

“Ay, cabezón.” You shoot back, refusing to give into his flirtatious compliment. [big head]

The raven haired man laughed, his head falling forward, shaking slightly. “Okay, I was being nice and you just want to hurt me.”

Your shoulders move up and down, shrugging. “When will you realize you flirting isn’t going to make me dislike you any less?” You tug at the corners of your blanket to lift them over your shoulders to grow more comfortable.

“You know what I think?” Pedri asks, his eyes never leaving you, not even when you give him a hard, challenging glare. “I think you secretly like it.”

A laugh of disbelief leaves your lips, “and what makes you think that?”

Grinning wider, Pedri leans over in his chair. His elbows prop up on the armrest and he holds his head up with his palms. “You may not realize it, but your lips twitch every time I do.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

Pedri shakes his head, “no…” He was about to get real risky with what he says next, “but you can try and make me.”

Oh! Right, right. Funny.

Your lips pull into a thin line, eyes darting around his face. Is he being serious right now? But Pedri doesn’t look like he’s joking, his stupid smirk was gone, a serious look overtaking his face. He was.

“And how do you suppose I do that?” You nervously—wait. Nervous? Why were you nervous? Your knee had began to bounce, something that you did whenever you got anxious and, or nervous.

You were not anxious right now.

Your breathing slowed when Pedri’s gaze fell to your lips. He doesn’t say anything, just hums. He knew exactly what he was doing and you shake your head.

“Yeah, no.” You cough, turning away from him to look at the fire again. Your face was burning and it wasn’t because of the heat from the fire.

Pedri cracked up, finding it ever so amusing how flustered you’d gotten. He never realized how easy it would be to get you riled up like that.

And just like that, you’d stopped talking to Pedri. Completely. And every second of it was hell. All you could think about was his beautiful brown eyes that had a strong orange hue, the way his hair fell so softly on his head, the way he smiled with his teeth. It was so frustrating.

Pedri felt your absence the first time you didn’t show up to a gathering. Even when you didn’t come to a home game. Even when you said you hated him, you showed up periodically every three games.

He texted you, you didn’t respond. He asked your friends about you, they simply gave a, ‘she’s busy’ in response, but he noticed the slight questioning in their tone—like they didn’t believe what they were saying.

So, at his whits end, he stood outside your door in the rain. Pounding on the oak wood door, he progressingly got harsher and harsher until you finally swung it open.

“What—oh.” You falter, stepping back in surprise. “Pedri.”

“Yeah, Pedri. The guy you’ve avoided like I had a disease or something?” He snapped tightly, his hands moving as he spoke in frustration. “Tell me what I did wrong!”

You were taken aback, to say the least. You didn’t think your absence would affect him this much. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You answer quietly. “Are you cold?”

Pedri was befuddled. Cold? Was this your way of avoiding conversation? He was, of course. “What do you think? I’m drenched.”

“Come inside.” You step out of the way, motioning for him to come inside of your house.

Pedri’s mouth clamps shut. He strides inside and shrugs off his hoodie, leaving him clad in a white tee shirt that was still damp from the water that seeped through.

He’d never been to your house. It was exactly like he pictured. Neat, pops of color, random paraphernalia of the things you liked—yet subtle enough that nobody would know unless they liked those things or knew you well enough. It was all so.. you. He smiled a little.

“I can get you a blanket, coffee, tea? I don’t want you to get sick.” You were already moving toward the couch a few feet away, reaching for one.

Shaking his head, Pedri grips your arm, stopping you effectively. You glance back at him with furrowed eyebrows. “No. Stop stalling. Talk to me.”

Your eyes drift to his hand, ignoring the way his touch sent a bolt of electricity up your arm. “I have been busy. Not really feeling all the socializing. It’s not you.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me it isn’t true.” Pedri demands, dropping his hand to give you the stage. His arms cross and he cocks his head to the side with a hard stare.

You play with the hem of your sleeve, reluctantly looking at him. “It’s not you.”

Confusion flashes across his face. “Then what is it?”

“It’s me!” You exclaim, rubbing your face. “It’s my complete and utter lack of ability to get you out of my head! It’s the way I can’t stop thinking about you! It is—“ You turn around and take a breath. “My head makes it so difficult to be around you.”

Pedri listens intently, ignoring his urge to reach out and shut you up. His heart races and his head pounds and God he just wanted to kiss you!

He says your name, softly. But you weren’t finished.

“—Not to mention, I want to forget you so bad and I can’t! You have always been annoying but it’s reaching an insufferable level!”

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“If you think this is one sided, you are dead wrong.” And that was all he had to say. He wasn’t going to waste your time and ramble about how deeply he felt your absence, or how he couldn’t sleep because your face was the last thing he pictured when he closes his eyes and he didn’t want it to go away.

Your mouth parts, your breath hitching in your throat. Words fail your tongue. When you can’t get anything out, your shoulders slump. Okay. Okay! This was good. Right?

He says your name again, snapping his fingers in your face. Blinking, you take a long breath, a slightly confused smile overtaking your lips. “Wow. Alright. Oh. Now what.”

“Now, I ask if I can have that blanket because I’m pretty fucking cold.” He says through a breathy laugh.

Your head dips when you chuckle, “yeah, yeah. You can sit on the couch. I’ll make you tea, too. You’ll probably catch a cold.”

You were so caring, even when you pretended you couldn’t stand him. You were caring all the time, Pedri supposed that was what he loved so much about you.

When you were back with the blanket and tea in hand, you plop down beside him. “I haven’t been busy. I’ve been miserable.” You confess, leaning your head back against the couch cushion with a loose smile.

“I’ve been miserable too.” Pedri admits, setting the mug aside and leans back as well. When he’s facing you, he takes the moment of silence to scan your face. Every small feature, he took in. Burned it into his brain.

Your stomach hurt with his examination because with it came the softest, most endearing smile. “Are you always going to creepy-stare at me? Or will this end after tonight?”

“Always.” Pedri shrugs, lifting his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing your soft skin. “Don’t do this to me again. Don’t make me have to get upset at you, I hated every second of it.”

You nod, your eyes fluttering shut to sink in his every touch. “Never again.”

“And—“

“Can I shut you up?”

The call back to the conversation that happened only weeks ago had Pedri laughing. “Yes.” Without another word, your lips pressed to his.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you want to be tagged in future pedri posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @sakashq @ar4ujos @joaoflms @gadriezmannsgirl @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @unx100to @st4rgirl-ellie

[dubina-dawkins]

DEAN WINCHESTER | NSFW HEADCANONS

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

warnings/notes: smut! minors dni, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected (done by professionals don't try this at home), p in v, dean is switch, marking kink, praise kink, some dirty talk as well, gentle sex but not vanilla, like LOVEmaking even, just a lot of smutty stuff from my head, english is not my first language sorry if there's some mistakes

REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED

> let's just say. you're different

> it's strange, but somehow dean just couldn't bear a thought of fucking you before all of your relationship thing started

> that "storgy" thing where you were friends for half your life before you started dating

> and even after you did became his girlfriend dean just... was scared to think about something spicy with you?

> until one day he was too tired to care, when your kisses became hotter and he couldn't bring himself to hold back as usual

> like, really too tired. everything that going on is kinda exhausting him. but you're always there to help!

> your first time together? even though dean couldn't hold back anymore, it doesn't mean he was fast and rough

> no, he's one of the gentle kind

> kisses all over your body and very long foreplay

> but at one point you just get tired of these idle kisses and just

> "quit the talking, please"

> man, he's completely screwed at that point

> marking works both ways, actually

> no, really, dean adores the sight of you in his marks. hickeys, lovebites

> it intoxicates him better than any whiskey

> he pays extra attention to your neck. and to your breasts, too

> but sometimes when it sam's turn on doing the laundry, he sees there some of dean's flannels

> and their collars are stained with dark traces of lipstick...

> when dean feels your waxy lips on his skin, he knows it would leave a mark. knows he'll need to shower those off

> but from the way you look at him, when your lipstick is smeared over his lips, cheeks, neck and all the way down

> he'd rather never take a shower to keep these

> your lovebites and nibbles drive him crazy

> to the point he whimpers your name. and you're not even starting!

> scratches too. he gets teased about these. a lot. by nearly anyone who sees them

> he's not intense kind, - not all the time at least

> but it feels too good for you not to leave a mark of your nails on his back

> "did you take the tiger in fight?"

> "sammy, shut it."

> he'd like to do it nearly everywhere, it's just you who keeps him on track

> he'd slip his hands under your jacket the very second you leave witness' house, being in fbi undercover

> "good suit, agent carol kay... seriously, you couldn't come up with a better name?"

> "agent joey kramer says"

> for you the height of extreme is the back seat of the Baby, especially when she's standing at Bobby's

> dean would never admit it, but he's a sucker for you in charge

> you don't need much to get him turned on

> one "good boy" is enough

> and he's so worked out about it

> you tease him, kiss him, touch him, and he already needs to bite on his lip

> especially when you get to his chest. he didn't joke about his nipples being hypersensitive

> there's no words that can describe thst heavenly sound he makes when you tease his sensitive tip, when your fingers work on the entire length

> he whines your name, stroking your hair. his sounds are purely animalistic when you finally take him all in your mouth

> dean's not huge, but he's bigger than average. and it definitely is enough to make you moan his name, sometimes in a really pornographic way

> "please, baby... let me c-"

> "not yet, pretty boy" you whisper, letting his hardened cock put of your mouth with a wet pop

> it's like a tradition. when you two have an extra-time, you prepare each other. you sucking him off, him eating you out. swings of gentle dominance and comfort submission.

> dean, unlike his brother, is not a puppy-look person... but when he's between your thighs, kissing and nibbling on the skin, and his gaze rises to your face, begging to go further..

> then he really looks like an obedient dog.

> extra attention to your clit. sucking, licking, sucking again. dean adores the sounds you make at these

> but most of the time it's just a stress relief after tough hunts

> or when sam goes out to get some food

> quick and needy

> and you fucking adore seeing your always tough man being needy for at least your hand in his hair

> at very least.

a/n: love him. my man. my boy. my everything. god im obsessed, hyperfixated and ovulated. the unlohy trinity.

[puckinghischier]

This is me not knowing if your requests are open, but I’m gonna slide in your inbox anyways. I’m currently on my period at the moment and want to actually die, so this is me ever so kindly requesting for some tooth-rottenly sweet comfort with my boy. Whether it focuses on the reader struggling during her time of month or just overall seeking some comfort, I will happily accept either scenario

jack may have a reputation for being sassy and dry at times, but when he knows you need it? that man turns into the softest person on the planet.

he’s waiting on you hand and foot, treading lightly, not wanting to upset you any further. he’s speaking softly to you, as not to jar your sensitive state.

he makes sure you don’t have to make any decisions if you don’t want to, giving your tired brain a rest. he picks up your favorite take out, bringing it to you in the bedroom and eating with you in silence, never making you converse if you didn’t want to. he’s doing the dishes, finishing the laundry, running you a hot bath.

the days leading up to your period are always spent with you being a little off. your usual yappy nature gone, an overall sadness to your features and tone, and the random bouts of tears and extreme insecurity.

he hates it for you, knowing it’s not who you are, but also knowing you’re trapped in the endless cycle of falling victim to an upset in hormones that tricks your brain, every month. he wants nothing more than to help, but he can’t crawl in your brain and take the thoughts away. so, he does what he can.

he brings you your heating pad and meds anytime you so much as wince in discomfort. he holds you while giving your belly a gentle massage, trying to counteract the painful cramps radiating through your lower body. he make sure you have all of your favorite foods on hand. he watches your favorite movies and holds you when your emotions finally boil over. he reassures you that he loves you, more than you’ll ever know, and he’ll always be there when you need him.

he doesn’t mind being your rock. in fact, he loves it. he loves knowing he’s the only person that can bring you comfort when you need it most. he loves being the person you reach for when you want to be held while you cry over the notebook for the thousandth time. he loves the quality time he always gets with you during this week each month (unless he’s on a roadie) because you don’t want to go anywhere. he loves how you cling to him like a koala, his mere touch enough to relax your entire body.

he wants to be any and everything you need. he loves that most of time, your relationship is happy, go-lucky fun. he loves the banter you two have and the natural back and forth of your conversations. but he loves this, too. the domesticity of it all. he loves being able to switch to this soft, caretaker persona for a week each month. he never understood the way his parents always seemed to enjoy dotting on the other when they were sick or upset, but now he does.

he knows now, that the simplest, yet most rewarding, thing you can do for your partner is to simply be there. to anticipate their needs and show them the physical representation of your love. to be their comfort when nothing else in this world soothes them. be their voice of reason, even when their brain is working against them. reminding them that even in their weakest moments, they are deserving of softness, deserving of peace, and deserving of love.

[blueberri-blu]

Learning You...

Donnie ♡

[Bayverse] Slowly getting to know Donnie ♡

Leo ♡⁠˖ Mikey ♡⁠˖ Raph ♡⁠˖

Getting to now the turtles! A little Mini-Series!

Meeting Him:

Honestly? You probably met him through April or his brothers...

April decided to bring you over to the lair, after months of her dodging you wanting to meet her friends

So, as you walk into the lair, you meet Mikey first, ever excited for new friends

Then Leo comes to greet you like a "proper guest" (as leo puts it)

And lastly Raph just seems to stare at you a bit and give a grunt

Later, 1 of 2 things happens

Either Leo or April's drags Donnie out to greet you

Or your curious ass goes to see what's going on in the strange lab room

Once you see him, he greets you quickly and goes back to what he was doing in his lab

You follow him and start to ask questions about his many inventions

This won his heart (whether he knew it or not)

Befriending Him:

At first, it's hesitant questions, long awkward silences, and clammy hands

But after awhile he gets used to your presence

Your questions often help him, letting him see a new perspective

He appreciates any of your input, but not without a little bit of sass

That little turn around he does (in the gif), you can't tell me he isn't sassy

You two will get into little sass battles, one comeback after another

This helps you two get closer

You mostly spend time in his lab, with the occasional accompanying him for new materials or things he needs

You bring him food and water, setting alarms for him to remember to eat and drink

Spinning in your office chair, you give him insane scenarios for him to entertain you with the logistics of it all

"Hey Donnie, what if I wanted a fire proof phone?"

"well you'd need to find a thin enough material that doesn't melt under high heats, a material such as steal, however you'd need to figure out how to combat the heaviness..."

And that's when he start getting comfortable ranting to you

He'll go on hour long rants about many things, allowing you to interrupt him to ask questions about what things mean and such

Donnie loves when you ask him these questions, he feels like, even though you don't understand him completely, you still try hard to take interest in him

First Date!

You probably have to ask him out,

You guys develop a situation ship sort of thing

And although he wants more, he doesn't want to ruin what you have

You end up asking Donnie "What are we"

And that's when poor Donnie's brain is racing a mile a minute

He starts stammering and doesn't know how to proceed, but eventually sighs and tells you how he feels

He's ecstatic when you tell him you feel the same!

Donnie stresses so much on dates ideas

Eventually, he decides he wants to take you out of the lair for once

You share your favorite foods with each other, both sickeningly sweet feeding eachother

He takes you for a ride in the shellraiser

You eventually get to a large field of pretty grass, noticing it's very far from the city

You give him a questioning look, but he just responds with "I wanted to make sure you knew this was special to me" while giving you a shy smile

You have a little picnic with Donnie, far from the city

He wanted you two to have a special moment without the bustling of the city or his brothers

Although you're both nervous, soon you start talking about anything that comes to mind

Soon Donnie starts to feed you, like the sickeningly sweet romantic he is

You're both giggling and talking in hushed voices

You end up cuddling and whispering sweet nothing's in each other's ears

Dating!

With Donnie you are never missing anything

He tries his best to make your life easier

You're clumsy and your phone keeps falling? He makes a practically indestructible phone case in your favorite color (he secretly hopes it's purple)

Your toast never comes out quite how you like it? He makes a toaster that makes your toast exactly how you like it (and maybe even a coffee maker that makes it ready to drink)

Donnie sometimes struggles with giving you the time outside the lab you (let's be honest, him too) need.

Sometimes you struggle to get him out of his lab, but with a little convincing (and kicked puppy eyes) he'll usually cave for awhile.

Usually taking you to go see museums at night "It's better without the crowd!"

And on your anniversaries, he takes you back to your first date

He can get a bit insecure about whether he's doing it right, all he has to base off of are movies and TV shows

It'll take a bit for him to touch you, but once you put his hand on your back/thigh/waist

He'll take it as a go ahead (always looks at you for approval tho)

Whenever he hugs or kisses you, you can feel just how much he loves you

He looks at you and slowly closes the distance

Donnie will sometimes ask you questions about your previous relationships, how they ended, and why

He just wants to prevent the same mistakes from happening, he really loves you, and wants you two to last for eternity <3

I was able to finish it @novaleedartis !! Hope you enjoy it ^^

Please let me know how I can improve or if I have any spelling errors please! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

[httpsdana]

19 from comfort from your prompt list with gavi about her scars on her body???

Faded Lines~Pablo Gavi

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

⚠ tw: mentions of scars and self-harm ⚠

19. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. I want to know every part of you.”

The soft afternoon glow filtered through the drapes as y/n pulled her shirt over her head, the familiar fabric of her comfortable clothes settling against her skin.

She had been looking forward to a quiet night with Gavi—no plans, no interruptions, just the two of them. But as she stood in front of the mirror, her stomach tightened. She glanced down at the scarred skin of her abdomen, the old, jagged lines that ran across her stomach. They were a part of her, but they were also a reminder of things she’d rather forget.

The scars were numerous, each one carrying its own painful story. Some faded, others still dark against her skin, but none of them could be erased. They weren’t the kind of thing she liked to talk about. They were the remnants of a past she wanted to leave behind—a time when she felt out of control, when she used to hurt herself in silence, trying to numb the emotional pain with physical ones. She had made a lot of mistakes back then, and these scars were the physical evidence of a version of herself that she didn’t want anyone to know.

She hadn't realized Gavi had come into the room while she was lost in thought, adjusting the hem of her shirt. But then she felt his presence behind her—his gaze, gentle yet intense, focused on her.

“Mi amor,” he said softly, his voice full of concern. “Are you okay?”

y/n stiffened, suddenly aware that he had seen her pause, her fingers still resting near her stomach. A quick, panicked glance over her shoulder told her that, despite her best efforts to pull her shirt low, Gavi had already noticed.

Her heart raced. “I’m fine,” she lied, trying to turn away from him, to cover the scars. She didn’t want him to see them, not like this, not before she had the chance to explain. But Pablo was too quick, stepping forward and gently lifting her hand away from her stomach.

“No, no,” he whispered, his fingers brushing over her waist. “I saw. What’s this?”

y/n felt the tears welling up before she could stop them. His touch, so tender, was already starting to unravel the walls she had built up to protect herself. She shook her head, her voice tight with fear. “You don’t need to see this.”

“Why?” he asked quietly, taking another step closer, his eyes soft but filled with a quiet intensity. “Why do you think you need to hide it?”

“I…” she swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in her throat. “I don’t want you to see me like this. It’s… it’s not something I want anyone to know about. It’s from… a time in my life I’d rather forget.”

Pablo’s expression softened, his hands moving to cup her face. “You don’t have to hide it from me. You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

She pulled back slightly, trying to create distance, but it was clear that Gavi wasn’t going to let her hide from him. He reached down, gently lifting the edge of her shirt, his eyes focused on the scars as they were finally revealed.

They weren’t just one or two; they were scattered across her abdomen in a patchwork of old, faded lines. She felt exposed in a way she hadn’t in years, but as his gaze lingered over them, she couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. There was no judgment in his eyes, just tenderness.

“I’ve been hurt before too,” he said softly, his fingers grazing over the lines of her scars with a gentle touch. “But these? These don’t make you broken. They don’t make you less than anyone else. They’re a part of your story, mi amor.”

y/n felt a tremble in her chest at the way he spoke, his voice steady, filled with understanding. His words were exactly what she needed to hear, but the vulnerability still made her feel small.

“I don’t want you to see me as damaged,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Pablo lifted his hand to her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. “I see you as perfect,” he said firmly, his eyes locking onto hers. “Every part of you. The parts you think are broken and the parts you think are beautiful. You are perfect to me. I’ll never see you as damaged. These scars, they don’t define you.”

Tears filled her eyes, and before she could stop them, they began to fall, her breath hitching as he gently wiped them away with his thumb. His touch was so warm, so soothing, and it was enough to make her feel like she wasn’t carrying this burden alone anymore.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, ashamed of the tears she couldn’t hold back. “I’ve been hiding this from everyone. I’ve been hiding from you.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to know all of you, all of you. The scars, the fears, the past. I want to love every part of you. And I will.”

He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment, and then he hugged her tightly, as if trying to show her that her past didn’t matter to him. Only the present did.

“I love you,” he murmured. “And I love you like this. You don’t have to hide anything from me. I want to know every part of you.”

y/n clung to him tightly, the weight of years of hiding and pretending slowly starting to lift. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe that she didn’t have to be ashamed of what had happened in the past. She didn’t have to be perfect. All Pablo cared about was loving her—all of her.

[ssentimentals]

omgomgomg your drabbles are to die for 🥰

could you do fluff prompt 16 with woozi?

awww this is so cute, hehe, thank you! and thank you for requesting, of course 💜 hopefully you will like it!

fluff prompt: 'what's on your mind? i want to listen.'

silence is something that is not appreciated enough, in woozi's humble opinion. he always found it so weird how people try to run away from silence and feel uncomfortable in it, while wooozi finds peace and strength there. having someone to be comfortable with in total silence felt like an unreachable dream for him for quiet some time, but then he met you. at first he was so cautious in getting his hopes up, but the more time he spent with you, the more he enjoyed your company and started to look forward to it. even now when you enter the studio, woozi perks up, smiling at you: 'hey there.'

you look up, smiling back at him. 'hi. i brought coffee.'

you are the sweetest, woozi thinks but what he says is: 'thank you, appreciate it.' he watches as you place a cup next to him before moving to your own desk. 'how was your weekend?'

when your smile widens, woozi fully turns to face you, ready to listen. he loves watching you, enjoys seeing emotions change on your face, likes hearing your voice. he absolutely adores silence with you because it's never awkward or forced, but he loves even more to talk to you. you spend some time catching up on your weekends and then both turn back to the work, letting silence envelop you two in this small space. it's cozy, dare woozi say. it's something he likes to bask in and he knows that what makes it cozy is you, your presence. woozi brings nothing to this silence, but you bring your warmth, your acceptance, your sweet attitude. he wants to stay in this atmosphere as much as he can and hopes you feel the same.

'what's on your mind?' woozi asks, when he notices how you stare off into the distance. his voice is soft and it doesn't startle you; you turn to him with a shy smile. 'tell me. i want to listen.'

you first hesitate but then you start talking about the dream you had last night and woozi discreetly turns off his laptop, not wanting any kind of distractions, not wanting to miss a second of you. he wonders if he'll ever have a courage to tell you exactly this. he hopes he will.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. family death.

Your grandmother once told you as a young teen, old-fashioned as it is, while you helped peel potatoes and carrots at the counter just feet paces away from a stove as warm as she was, that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.

The advice is archaic, but it brings a smile to your lips when you think about the way Sanji subverts the thinking, showing you his own true heart through your stomach. Neither of you have ever known a meal of his not to comfort you, which is why when today, he finds that you’ve put your soup spoon down after only two swallows, he’s more alarmed than you are.

“Is something wrong with it?” Sanji says carefully. Not immediately, not in any way trying to pressure you, but with feigned disinterest, averting his gaze slightly. He lets out a puff of smoke from his pulled cigarette and hums to himself. You take a look at the bowl, then give him a look.

It’s a simple soup, far below the bar of Sanji’s talent. Chicken and dumplings, one of your favorites. It should be delicious, and it is, but that’s not enough.

You pause, unsure what exactly is your concern, and take another spoonful. It’s not the very first time he’s made this dish, but it’s the very first time he’s made it for you. 

Meant to comfort you, as today is what would have been your grandmother’s 90th birthday.

You swallow for a moment. Delectable by all accounts, warm, with no surprising bits. Made with care. Made by someone you love, and who loves you.

But it’s wrong.

You swallow and let your head rest on his shoulder.

“Sorry, it just doesn’t taste like hers.”

Sanji stiffens for a moment, but then he puts out his cigarette and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Tell me more about her, and I’ll try again.”

You look up at him, tears pricking at your eyes as you smile.

—

You can learn a lot about someone by the way someone talks about them.

Sanji captures her essence in a second attempt, and perhaps it is because as you stand by him, peeling potatoes and carrots, her love for you, your love for her, and your love for Sanji and vice versa infuse into the very broth.

[cornenhapovs]

𝓐𝘣𝘺𝘴𝘴

꒰ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗹𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝘆𝗻 ꒰ 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹 𝘅 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹

꒰⠀for @sugarikiz event 'ʏᴏᴜʀ ℰ𝓎ℯ𝓈 ᴏɴʟʏ ☁︎.𖥔 '

Once upon a time, there were two lovers who were deeply in love with each other. They had been through many ups and downs, but their love for each other had weathered every storm. One day, one of the lovers was going through a difficult time in their life. They felt lost, hopeless, and trapped in a dark abyss of despair. The other lover noticed the change in their partner and tried to offer comfort and support, but the first lover continued to sink deeper into their despair......

" Heeseung please let me be your light " In response to your words, Heeseung's eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and appreciation flickering across his face. He leaned closer, his expression growing serious as he spoke. " You want to be my light ? " he repeated, his voice slightly incredulous. " You think you can bring me out of the darkness? "

" Idk... but I want to .. plz I can't see you growing weaker each day passing by " Heeseung's expression softened as he heard the urgency and determination in your voice. He saw the concern and care in your eyes, and it touched a deep part of him that had been shrouded in darkness. He reached out, his hand gently cupping your face, his thumb tracing the contour of your cheek. "You don't understand," he murmured, his voice laced with pain. " The darkness is too strong. It's consuming me."

" THERE HAS TO BE A WAY " you shouted . Heeseung closed his eyes, his hand still gently holding your face. Your insistence and willingness to help him were like a faint ray of light trying to break through the darkness that enveloped him. He took a deep breath, opening his eyes again, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability. "Maybe you were sent to me for a reason ," he murmured. "But I don't know if even your light is bright enough to cut through my darkness."

Your determination only seemed to grow at Heeseung's words. You gently placed your hand over his, your grip tightening as you spoke. " I don't care if it's too strong or if my light isn't bright enough," you said firmly. "I'll do whatever it takes to help you fight the darkness. I'm not going to give up on you, Heeseung. I won't leave you alone in there."

Heeseung watched your determination with a mix of disbelief and awe. The fire in your eyes and the determination in your voice were unlike anything he had encountered before in his existence. He couldn't deny the strange pull he felt towards you, even though you were an angel and he was a devil. Your unwavering commitment to help him, despite the vast differences between your worlds, was both surprising and unsettling. " Please .. please there has to be a way---- " he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his eyes locking on yours with a mixture of pleading and frustration. " You don't understand," he said, his voice strained. "There's no way for an angel like you to help someone like me. You're too good, too pure. The darkness will only consume you too." You tried to speak again, but Heeseung silenced you once more. His hand came up to gently touch your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite the harshness of his words. "Please, just listen to me," he pleaded, his voice now tinged with desperation. "You can't save me. The darkness is too strong, and it will only bring you down with me."

" I love you " u whispered . Heeseung froze, his breath catching in his chest at your unexpected declaration. His eyes widened slightly as he stared at you, shock and confusion warring on his face. "You... what?" he responded, his voice barely above a whisper. "You love me?"

"Yes and I don't care if we are not supposed to be together .. or I am doing a sin but I want to be tainted by your love , want my soul to be consume by your darkness. My love for you goes beyond the boundaries of heaven and hell, transcending the laws that would keep us apart. I am ready to plunge into the abyss of your darkness, to let your love encompass me completely. I will embrace the whirlwind of emotions, the passion and pain that come from loving you, a devil. So Lee heeseung will you make me yours ? "

Heeseung's heart thudded in his chest as he heard your words, and for the first time in his existence, he felt a flicker of hope and warmth amidst the darkness that surrounded him. Your declaration of love, your unwavering desire to be with him, it all felt like a dream. He took a step closer to you, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Yes," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of passion and determination. "I will make you mine. I will claim you, body and soul. And there will be no turning back. "

🩸🩸🩸

As you both embraced suddenly heeseung screamed in agony too much pain as his devil red eyes met with yours which ones were filled with bright light and love now cold and devoid of any emotions while you let the knife fall on the ground and his cut wings beside him . Heeseung's scream echoed through the room, his body writhing in pain as the blinding light enveloped him. His eyes, once filled with the fiery gaze of a devil, now froze in shock as they met yours, now cold and emotionless. You stood before him, a stark contrast to the previous moment of tenderness. Your knife clattered against the ground, and Heeseung's severed wings lay beside him, a gruesome reminder of the love that had just shattered into pieces. A menacing smirk adorning your face .

Heeseung's eyes widened in horror as your smirk twisted your features. The warmth and love that had been there moments ago were gone, replaced by a cold, callous expression that sent a shiver down his spine. He tried to scramble away from you, his body still wracked with pain. "Why...?" he managed to croak, his voice filled with disbelief and despair. His scream echoed through the room, his body writhing in pain as the blinding light enveloped him. His eyes, once filled with the fiery gaze of a devil, now froze in shock as they met yours, now cold and emotionless. You stood before him, a stark contrast to the previous moment of tenderness. Your knife clattered against the ground, and Heeseung's severed wings lay beside him, a gruesome reminder of the love that had just shattered into pieces.

" Why ??? Ages ago in this very same place you killed several angels out of spite and one of them was my lover . His name was Yang Jungwon . Does it now ring a bell you foul thing ?? We were supposed to get married .... he was my everything .... BUT YOU DEVIL HAD TO TAKE EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME . YOU DESERVE TO DIE . YOU DESERVE TO BE HATED . " Heeseung's face paled as you reminded him of his past sins. The memory of the angels he had killed, including your lover Yang Jungwon, came flooding back. A mix of guilt and fear flickered in his red eyes, but he tried to maintain his composure, his voice shaky as he spoke. "You... you're the angel that was with him?" he whispered, his heart pounding in his chest. Heeseung's body trembled as he listened to your words, the hatred and anger in your voice cutting through him like a knife. He knew he deserved every bit of your wrath, every bit of your pain and heartbreak. A mixture of fear and resignation flickered in his eyes as he spoke, his voice hoarse and weak "I know... I know I deserve it..." he rasped. "But... please...".

"Oh my what have we here huh.. A devil which always gives other deals in exchange for their soul begging infront of me ?? His enemy ?? Haaha " Heeseung's throat tightened as he realized the irony of his situation. He, a devil who was known for making deals and taking souls, was now on his knees, begging you, his enemy, to spare him. His pride and arrogance had fled, leaving behind a husk of fear and despair. He looked up at you, his red eyes pleading, but he stayed silent, unable to find the words to defend himself.

"You... you won't kill me..?" Heeseung's voice was a mere whisper, filled with incredulity and disbelief. He could not comprehend why you, who had just learned of his darkest sin, had not immediately taken his life. The fear and despair in his eyes remained, but there was a hint of curiosity mixed with it. "Why not ?" he found himself asking, his voice tremulous. "Why spare the devil who took away the angel you loved?"

" Sometimes leaving a scar is much better than killing at once . Just like my past haunts me ... similarly from now on I'll haunt your memories ". Heeseung shivered at your words, a sense of unease crawling up his spine. You had spoken of a form of torment far worse than death – leaving him with memories, with reminders of the pain and suffering he had caused. He knew what it meant to be haunted, to have the ghosts of the past lingering in the shadows, forever present yet forever out of reach. And he now faced the possibility of that very fate. Before going from there you stomped on his wings and gave your angelic smile as that moment you felt your lover's justice ... your jungwon's justice , being served . Heeeseung cried out in pain as you stomped on his wings, the sharp agony shooting through him and further fueling the torment you had cast upon him. Your angelic smile, so beautiful and yet so cold, sent a chill down his spine, a cruel reminder of the price he had paid for his sins. He could almost feel the weight of Jungwon's presence, his spirit finding justice through your actions. Heeseung closed his red eyes, his mind filled with regret and grief as he whispered,

" I'm sorry.... "

Tags @okwonyo @021894s @strawberrynull @wonryllis

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: Chapter Three

The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: You are being courted by Morpheus, one of the seven Endless. Then you get stood up on your date, and find out the shocking reason why.

Warnings: Nudity.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader, Destiny = Russian Blue, Death = Sphinx, Dream = Mainecoon, Desire = Bombay, Despair = Exotic Shorthair, Delirium = Bengal.

Word Count: ~3.7k

Previous | Masterlist

The sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. You glance at the clock and realize it's time to pick up some new toys for Delirium. Her boundless energy always needs an outlet, and you want to make sure she stays entertained.

After a quick trip to the pet store, you return with a bag full of colorful cat toys—feather wands, jingle balls, and plush mice. The moment you walk through the door, Delirium's eyes light up. Her fur seems to shimmer with excitement as she bounds over to you.

What did you bring? Her voice dances with curiosity.

"Just a few surprises," you say, setting the bag on the floor.

Delirium doesn't wait for an invitation. She dives into the bag, pulling out a feather wand first. With a gleeful yelp, she bats at it, her movements erratic and joyful. You grab the other end of the wand and wave it in the air. Delirium leaps and twirls, her agility mesmerizing.

Catch me if you can! she giggles, eyes wide with exhilaration.

You laugh, flicking the wand higher. "Think you can keep up?"

Her response is a blur of motion as she pounces, paws swiping at the feathers with surprising precision. You can't help but marvel at her energy. The room fills with her infectious laughter and your own chuckles as she finally captures the wand between her teeth.

Got it! she exclaims triumphantly.

Next, you pull out a jingle ball and roll it across the floor. Delirium's ears perk up at the sound, and she races after it, batting it around with enthusiastic paws. The ball skitters under a chair, but that doesn't deter her. She stretches out, pawing at it until it rolls free again.

Never give up, she mutters to herself before resuming her playful pursuit.

You sit back on your heels, watching her with fondness. Delirium's joy is infectious; it lifts your spirits just being near her. You toss another toy—a plush mouse—into the mix. She pounces on it instantly, tossing it into the air before catching it again.

The afternoon melts away in a haze of laughter and play. But you catch Morpheus brooding and moping off to the side, as if he was jealous of you spending your time playing with Delirium instead of him. Most likely. So you pick up a laser pointer and start flicking it around the room as you take a seat on your couch.

Morpheus saunters over, his movements graceful and deliberate. He eyes the laser pointer in your hand with a keen interest, tail flicking with anticipation, but then completely ignores it. Without hesitation, he jumps into your lap, his weight settling comfortably.

You can feel the subtle rumble of his purring, a low vibration that soothes and reassures. "Missed me?" you ask, giving him a gentle scratch behind the ears.

Always, he purrs, leaning into your touch.

You aim the laser pointer at the floor, creating a small red dot that darts across the room. Morpheus's eyes lock onto it, pupils dilating. He hesitates for a moment and you can feel his muscles straining. Then he is springing into action, leaping off your lap with surprising speed.

Delirium pauses her play to watch him chase the elusive dot. Her curiosity piqued, she joins in the chase. The two cats move in perfect synchrony, their bodies fluid and agile as they pounce and swipe at the tiny light.

The room is filled with their playful energy. You can hardly keep up with their rapid movements, but you try your best to keep the dot dancing just out of reach. Morpheus lets out an excited chirp as he nearly catches it, only for it to dart away at the last second.

You think you can outsmart me? he challenges.

"Not a chance," you reply with sarcasm, a grin plastered to your lips.

Delirium leaps over Morpheus in a graceful arc, trying to intercept the dot mid-air. She lands softly on her paws, missing by inches but unfazed by the near-miss. The two of them continue their spirited chase, working together yet competing for that elusive prize.

You find yourself laughing at their antics, feeling a lightness in your chest that only moments like these can bring. He was going to get so pissy with you after this but right now you were enjoying yourself far too much to stop.

You glance at the clock and realize it's almost dinner time. You reluctantly put the laser pointer down, and both Delirium and Morpheus halt their chase, turning their curious eyes towards you.

"Alright, you two. Time to eat," you announce, heading towards the kitchen.

Delirium trots after you, her tail held high with anticipation. Morpheus follows at a more measured pace, his regal demeanor intact despite the playful chase moments before.

As you open the cupboard to retrieve their food bowls, Delirium jumps onto the counter, her nose twitching as she sniffs the air. She gives you a playful nudge with her head. Hungry, she murmurs.

You open the cupboard and pull out six bowls, each one with a unique design representing one of the Endless. Why you had spent so much time selecting them was beyond your comprehension. Setting them on the counter, you fill Delirium’s bowl first. She nudges your hand, her whiskers brushing against your skin as she purrs loudly.

"Patience," you say, filling the bowl with her favorite fish mix. You place it on the floor, and she immediately digs in, her tail swishing contentedly.

Morpheus watches from his perch on the windowsill. You prepare his meal next, a special blend of turkey and rice that he loves. He saunters over, graceful as ever, and begins to eat with measured bites.

Next, you move to prepare Despair’s dinner. Her bowl is somber gray, matching her melancholic aura. You fill it with a hearty stew that you know she prefers on these colder nights. She appears quietly by your side, her presence heavy but not unwelcome.

"Here you go," you say softly, placing the bowl on the table where she often sits alone.

Desire's bowl is next—a shimmering gold with intricate designs. You fill it with a rich pate that matches their refined tastes. Desire slips in with a mischievous grin and a glint in their eye.

"Always the best for you," you remark, setting their bowl down with a flourish.

Finally, Destiny’s bowl—simple yet elegant. You prepare a meal that’s balanced and nourishing, just the way he likes it. He approaches quietly, his presence almost ethereal.

"Dinner is served," you announce as he takes his place at the head of the table.

With all six Endless fed and contented, you turn back to the kitchen to fix your own dinner. The scent of roasted chicken fills the air as you prepare a simple but satisfying meal for yourself. You glance back at the table where they all sit—each one absorbed in their own world yet connected by an invisible thread.

You set your plate down at the counter and take a moment to appreciate the scene before digging into your meal. You take a bite of your roasted chicken, savoring the rich flavor. The house hums with a comfortable quiet, broken only by the soft sounds of the Endless eating. Suddenly, a soft tapping at the window catches your attention.

You look up to see Matthew perched on the sill, his beady eyes peering through the glass. You rise from your seat and cross the room to let him in.

"Hey, Matthew," you greet him as you open the window. "What brings you here?"

"Just checking in," he caws, hopping onto your shoulder. "Thought you could use some company."

You smile at the raven's familiar voice. "Perfect timing," you say, closing the window behind him. "Dinner's just wrapping up."

Matthew looks around the room, his eyes taking in each of the Endless as they finish their meals. He flaps his wings and settles comfortably on your shoulder.

"How's everyone doing?" he asks, though his tone suggests he already knows.

"Same as always," you reply with a shrug. "Delirium’s playful, Morpheus is brooding, and Desire’s... well, being Desire."

Matthew lets out a soft chuckle. "Sounds about right."

You walk back to your plate and take another bite of chicken. Matthew shifts on your shoulder, his feathers brushing against your cheek.

"You've been busy," he observes.

"Always," you admit, a hint of weariness creeping into your voice.

"Well, take a break," Matthew suggests. "You've earned it."

You finish your dinner, enjoying the comfortable presence of Matthew on your shoulder. He shifts slightly, making himself more comfortable as you place your fork down. The raven's familiar weight is a reassuring reminder of the world beyond the walls of your home.

"How about some tea?" you suggest, moving towards the kitchen.

"Sounds good," Matthew replies, his beady eyes gleaming with interest.

You fill the kettle and set it on the stove. The hiss of boiling water soon fills the room, mingling with the soft hum of contentment from the Endless as they finish their meals. You pull down two mugs—one for yourself and a smaller one for Matthew, who always enjoys a sip or two. Which is weird because he's a bird now.

You pour the hot water into the mugs, the steam rising in gentle curls. Matthew shifts on your shoulder, his feathers rustling softly.

"Here you go," you say, handing him his smaller mug. He grips it with his talons and put's it in front of him before taking a sip.

"Thanks," he murmurs, savoring the warmth.

You settle back at the counter with your own mug, the aroma of chamomile soothing your senses. The room is calm, the earlier energy of play and dinner now a gentle hum. You and Matthew share a companionable silence, each lost in your own thoughts.

Matthew takes another sip before speaking again. "Lucienne's been asking about you," he says casually.

"Has she now?" you respond with a hint of curiosity. "Anything in particular?"

"Just making sure you're keeping up," he replies, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You know how she worries."

You nod, understanding Lucienne's ever-watchful nature. "I'll make sure to check in more often."

Matthew finishes his tea and sets the mug down gently. "Well, I should get going," he announces, flapping his wings slightly as he prepares to take off. "Lucienne will be waiting for my report."

"Take care, Matthew," you say warmly as he takes flight and heads towards the window.

He gives you a final nod before disappearing into the night sky. You close the window behind him, feeling a mix of gratitude and lingering solitude.

Turning back to the kitchen, you start cleaning up after dinner. The clink of dishes and running water fills the space as you methodically wash each bowl and utensil. Once everything is neatly put away, you head towards the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.

You step into the shower, the warm water cascading over your tired muscles, washing away the day's stress. Steam fills the small bathroom, creating a cocoon of warmth. You let out a sigh, feeling the tension melt from your shoulders. The scent of lavender soap mingles with the steam, soothing your senses further.

After a few moments of blissful relaxation, you turn off the water and step out, grabbing a fluffy towel from the rack. You wrap it around your body, feeling its comforting embrace as you dry off. The cool air outside the shower sends a slight shiver through you as you move to your bedroom.

Your room is dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. You walk over to your dresser, pulling out clean clothes for the night. As you let the towel drop to change, a prickle of awareness runs down your spine. You glance up and freeze.

Morpheus sits on the edge of your bed, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. His gaze is unflinching, his dark eyes capturing every detail of your bare skin.

"Uh... Morpheus?" Your voice comes out hesitant, uncertain how to break the charged silence. Morpheus, in his sleek cat form, remains on the edge of your bed, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of your bare skin. You feel a heat rise to your cheeks, not just from the steam of the shower but from the intensity of his gaze.

You have a certain...radiance tonight, he purrs, his voice smooth and measured. It's almost as if you are a dream yourself.

You clutch the towel a bit tighter around you, feeling vulnerable yet strangely flattered. "Morpheus, this isn't really the time," you murmur, trying to muster some semblance of modesty.

He jumps gracefully from the bed to the dresser, closer now. Beauty is timeless, he continues, his eyes never leaving yours. And tonight, you shine with an ethereal light.

His words send a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the cool air. There's something about his presence—both comforting and disconcerting—that makes your heart race. You reach for your clothes, feeling the need to cover up under his intense scrutiny.

As you slip on your shirt and pants, Morpheus remains silent but attentive, his tail flicking lazily as if he has all the time in the world. When you're finally dressed, you turn back to face him.

"Happy now?" you ask with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

Content, he replies simply, though there's a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes.

You can't help but chuckle at that. "You're impossible."

And yet, he says softly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "True enough."

Morpheus leaps back onto the bed and curls up comfortably. His eyes half-close but still watch you with that same unwavering attention.

"Shall we call it a night?" you suggest, feeling both exhausted and oddly invigorated by the evening's events.

For now, he agrees, his voice a gentle whisper in the quiet room.

You turn off the bedside lamp and crawl under the covers, feeling Morpheus's warm presence beside you. His purring fills the room as you close your eyes, letting the events of the day fade into a comfortable darkness.

You wake up slowly, the haze of sleep lifting as you become aware of a cool, solid presence next to you. As your eyes flutter open, you find yourself wrapped in the arms of Morpheus, who has reverted to his normal form. His skin is smooth and cool against yours, his breathing steady and calm.

Rather than feeling frazzled by the sight of him naked beside you, relief washes over you. He's back to normal, his familiar presence grounding you in a way that nothing else can.

You gently lift your head from his chest and look at him. His features are serene, a stark contrast to the intensity he often carries. His dark hair falls softly across his forehead, and you can't help but reach out to brush it away.

Leaning in, you press a soft kiss to his lips. It’s a gentle gesture, filled with gratitude and affection. Morpheus stirs slightly, his arms tightening around you as he wakes from his deep inner thoughts.

His eyes open slowly, meeting yours with a softness that takes your breath away. "You're awake," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with warmth.

"Yeah," you reply softly, still close enough that your breath mingles with his.

He studies your face for a moment before pulling you closer, burying his face in your hair. "Good morning," he whispers against your ear.

"Good morning," you respond, feeling the tension of the previous day melt away in his embrace.

For a moment, neither of you moves. You simply savor the quiet intimacy of the morning, wrapped in each other’s arms. The world outside can wait; right now, all that matters is this moment with Morpheus.

Finally, he pulls back slightly to look at you again. There's a question in his eyes, an unspoken need for reassurance.

"I'm glad you're here," you tell him sincerely.

He nods slowly, a small smile playing on his lips. "As am I."

You shift slightly, adjusting to face Morpheus fully. "Are the others back to normal too?" you ask, concern lacing your voice.

He meets your gaze, his eyes a serene abyss. "Yes," he replies, his tone reassuring. "They have all returned to their realms."

A wave of relief washes over you. "Good," you murmur, your body relaxing into his embrace. "I was worried."

Morpheus’s lips curve into a gentle smile. "There is no need for worry," he says softly. "They are where they belong."

You nod, taking in the comfort of his words. The chaos of the past few days fades into a distant memory, replaced by the quiet stability of the present.

His fingers trace soothing patterns on your back, grounding you further. "You did well," he murmurs, a rare note of praise in his voice.

You feel a flush of pride at his words. "Thank you," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. The simple gesture fills you with warmth and contentment. "Rest now," he advises gently. "You have earned it."

You nestle deeper into Morpheus's embrace, the warmth and steady rhythm of his breath lulling you into a sense of calm. "I agree," you murmur, letting your eyes flutter closed for a moment. The world feels safe here, cradled in his arms.

But then you remember the chaos of the past few days, and a small, determined spark ignites within you. "But just so we're clear," you say, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. "I am not coming to the rescue the next time you or the others turn into cats."

Morpheus raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Is that so?" His tone is teasing, but there's a hint of curiosity there too.

"Yes," you insist, your voice firm despite the comfortable intimacy of the moment. "Do you have any idea what it's like to walk into an animal shelter to retrieve six cats who all got lost? They already think I'm a crazy cat lady."

He chuckles softly, the sound low and rich. "I can imagine it must have been quite the sight."

"Quite the sight?" You shake your head, a mix of exasperation and amusement coloring your tone. "It was more than that. I had to explain why one of them had eyes that looked like they were made of stars and another had this constant shimmer in them. Not to mention Desire's... unique behavior."

Morpheus's lips twitch into a smile. "Yes, I can see how that might have raised some questions."

"Questions?" You huff, though there's no real anger behind it. "They wanted to call animal control! I had to convince them that these were just very special breeds."

He nods thoughtfully, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. "Your dedication is commendable."

You roll your eyes playfully but feel a warmth at his words. "Well, don't expect me to go through that again. Next time you're on your own."

Morpheus's gaze softens, and he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead. "Understood," he murmurs against your skin.

You sigh contentedly, letting yourself relax once more in his arms. The room is quiet save for the soft hum of morning sounds outside the window.

You lean back into Morpheus's embrace, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. The quiet intimacy of the moment is almost enough to make you forget the absurdity of recent events.

Morpheus's fingers trace gentle circles on your back, a soothing rhythm that matches the steady rise and fall of his breath. "So, what do you plan to do today?" he asks, his voice a soft murmur in the morning stillness.

You ponder for a moment, considering the options. "I think I'll take it easy," you say finally. "Maybe read a book, enjoy some quiet time."

Morpheus nods approvingly. "A wise choice."

You shift slightly, adjusting to face him more fully. "But you also owe me a makeup date."

Morpheus's fingers still on your back, and his expression shifts from relaxed to serious. His eyes, usually so enigmatic, now hold a depth of emotion that takes you by surprise.

"I owe you more than a makeup date," he says, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic gravity. "I failed you."

You blink, taken aback by the intensity in his tone. "Morpheus, it's just a date. We can always reschedule."

"No," he interrupts gently but firmly. "It is not just a date. It was a promise, one that I did not keep."

You feel the weight of his words settle over you, and you realize how deeply he values his commitments to you. "Morpheus, you were dealing with something beyond our control," you argue softly. "Turning into cats and getting lost wasn't exactly in the plan."

He closes his eyes briefly, as if gathering his thoughts. When he opens them again, they are filled with determination. "Regardless of the circumstances, I should have found a way to honor my word to you."

You hold Morpheus’s gaze, seeing the sincerity etched in his features. The weight of his words hangs between you, thick and palpable.

"Morpheus," you say softly, reaching up to touch his face. Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the cool smoothness of his skin. "You didn't fail me. We both faced something unexpected."

He closes his eyes at your touch, leaning into your hand as if seeking solace in your reassurance. "Still," he murmurs, "I wish to make it right."

You smile gently, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. "Then let's make today about us," you suggest. "No interruptions, no obligations, no cats—just us."

His eyes open slowly, a spark of hope lighting them up. "That sounds perfect," he agrees, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

You nod, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. "Good. Now, how about we start with breakfast?"

Morpheus’s smile widens slightly. "Breakfast it is," he concurs.

Date Published: 11/20/24

Last Edit: 11/20/24

Previous | Masterlist

[hannahbarberra162]

A Negative Outcome, Part 3

On Ao3

Summary: the aftermath

TW: panic attack, whump, mentions of post-strangulation

Your POV

You came to slowly, curled up in a ball by yourself in Thatch’s gigantic bed. You wished he was still with you but given how busy he always was, he was likely needed elsewhere on the ship. Taking stock of your aching body, you determined that Marco hadn’t been in to see you yet. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since you fell asleep in Thatch’s lap but it couldn’t have been too long since you figured Marco would want to transfer you to the infirmary and attend to your injuries as soon as he was able. You tried rolling your head on your stiff shoulders, quickly determining that it had been a mistake to try. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton and your neck hurt to move in any direction. It wasn’t broken, but it sure felt like it was. There was no part of your body that didn’t ache or hurt in some way and you just wished you could go back to sleep.

Sniffling, you cracked open your eyes to see if the light was still coming through the porthole window. Fluttering your lashes open, you saw the moon shining through the small window, shining a patch of moonlight onto the bed. You heard voices getting louder as they approached the room. Listening in, you already knew who they belonged to.

“ - hurt, physically. She’s sleeping right now, maybe let her rest?”

“I can’t, I need to examine her. Otherwise I would,” you heard Marco say, almost remorsefully. You shivered at his voice, not wanting him to get any closer to the room. He had saved your life, you were in his debt for that. But the only reason he’d had to save your life was because he kidnapped you in the first place. He only saved you because he  still needed your blood, it wasn’t exactly altruistic. You shut your eyes again, willing Thatch to win the argument and for Marco to let you be. Of course, like always, you didn’t get your way when it came to Marco. The creak of the door and clomping of boots alerted you that the men were in the room, the footfalls drawing closer and closer. Thatch’s warm, calloused hand rubbed between your shoulder blades where they poked out on top of the blanket.

“Hey Sweets, wake up for me? Marco needs to check on you,” Thatch said softly, the bed dipping where he sat down near you. You rumbled from your throat, unwilling to express any words from your sore throat. Rolling over in the bed, you saw Marco’s pinched face staring down at you from across the small room as he lit some of the lamps along the wall. In some small way, you were glad that you couldn’t talk so you didn’t have to say anything to the doctor. Propelling himself forward, Marco’s flames flicked along his skin as he sat on your other side, sandwiching you between himself and Thatch. He tugged on the hem of your shirt, something he’d done many times before to assess you.

“Up,” he said in a simple command. Thatch’s face soured immediately as you crossed your arms to pull the shirt above your head.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Thatch snapped at Marco, anger evident in his furrowed brow. You glanced at Thatch, uncertainty keeping your hands in place from removing your shirt. Marco raised an unamused eyebrow, not used to sharp words from his brother. Thatch sighed and apologized, “sorry, I didn’t mean to…just, try to be more sensitive, yeah? She’s been through a lot.” He moved a few feet back, giving Marco a little more space to work.

You didn’t want to be in the middle of an argument between two Commanders, so you lifted your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your bra. It didn’t embarrass you that Marco was seeing you like this - he’d seen it hundreds of times already. But Thatch’s reddened face made you acutely aware of your relative nudity, bringing a matching blush to your cheeks. You stared at a spot of blood you’d left on Thatch’s comforter as Marco reached for you, causing you to flinch back. 

“Hey, it’s alright, it's just Marco,” Thatch said, rubbing a soothing circle on your bare back. You nodded sullenly, allowing Marco to move your head where he wanted so he could see your neck. You weren’t sure exactly what the parameters of his powers were, but Marco looked tired in the low light of the lamps, his heavy lidded eyes looking like they would close any moment. Your feelings towards him had complicated significantly now that he’d saved your life. But he’d also put you into the position that your life needed saving, so you weren’t all that sympathetic to his exhaustion. 

“Why don’t you just, y’know, heal her?” Thatch asked, watching Marco tilt your head. You were used to Marco manhandling you but you wanted nothing more than to push him away and scoot backwards into Thatch’s lap again.

“Can’t do too much right now. Teach was a lot stronger than he let on. A lot stronger. Pops had to get involved to…end the issue. I don’t have excess energy at the moment yoi. After I sleep and eat, I’ll be able to. She’s not going to have a stroke and doesn’t have brain damage, those are the main things to watch out for. I can do a little right now but everything else will heal with time or when I get to it tomorrow,” Marco said, speaking to Thatch rather than to you. You felt like...well, how you always did when Marco was in his clinician element. Like you were a tool he needed to keep in working order rather than an actual person.

“Can you swallow?” Marco asked, finally addressing you. You wobbled your head in a “so - so” movement with a small frown. “Talk?” 

“Hurts,” you stated in a hoarse whisper.

Marco hummed, touching the front of your neck, his long fingers wrapping around the side to palpate the bruised tissue. You started breathing faster, the sensation of something enclosing around your throat so familiar, so close to what had just happened. You tried to close your eyes and calm down but you couldn’t get a breath in anymore, your airway was cut off, you couldn’t breathe, it was happening again, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t see, you felt like you were dying - someone picked you up and set you back down a moment later. You struggled to get away, pushing at the arms that were holding you tightly against a burly chest. If you stopped struggling, you’d be killed, you had to get away you had to.

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhhh. Hey, it’s alright, you’re here with us, don’t cry, it’s just me and Marco. Just Marco and Thatch, you know us, right Sugar? It’s OK, you’re safe, you’re fine, shhhh, it’s ok…”

Marco POV

Marco watched you clutch onto Thatch’s chef’s coat like it was a lifeline, the cook soothing you as you shook and sobbed in his arms. He knew it wasn’t anyone’s intention but watching you be comforted by Thatch made Marco feel even worse than he already did. He was tired physically, the fight with Teach taking a significantly longer amount of time and effort than he’d anticipated. Marco had to involve several of his brothers and even Pops to finish off Teach. He was glad for it - whatever his former brother had been planning was maniacal, Marco was sure of it. He hadn’t had to fight that hard in a long time, maybe since the Roger Pirates. So he didn’t have much in him to help you physically right now, though he wished he could. He’d already had to heal many of his brothers, himself many times over, and all that after heavy fighting. 

Marco saw you taking deep breaths at Thatch’s urging, the Commander hugging you tightly and stroking your hair as you sat in his lap, tears still freely falling. You were going to be alright physically, even though you looked gruesome. Teach’s strangulation had popped the blood vessels in your eyes and there was a large amount of petechiae dotting your face from your forehead down to your cheeks. Your neck was bruised and swollen, it needed icing every half hour if he didn't heal it. He wanted to heal you as much as he could then collapse face down in his bed and forget everything to do with you.

Marco held himself back when dealing with you, he knew you didn’t like him. And why would you? He’d tricked you, brought you to the ship, basically enslaved you, and kept you as a living source of blood for a powerful stranger. He’d justified it to himself many times - that you’d practically saved Pops’s life, that they needed you, that you’d built an immunity to so many diseases that it only made sense to keep you, that maybe you would only be with them temporarily. But when he tossed and turned in his bed late at night thinking of you sitting forlornly on the chair as your blood was taken, your vacant eyes staring off into the void, he knew there was no justification. He’d never tell you, but he didn’t like seeing you just as much as you didn’t like seeing him. You were a constant reminder of his failing, of his lapse in moral judgment. He was just as trapped as you were in the choices that he’d made. If he could make Pops better by himself and drop you back on your home island, he would in an instant. 

But he couldn’t.

Most of all, Marco hated seeing you flinch away from him every time he was about to touch you. As a doctor, Marco was used to people welcoming his presence, seeking him out when they were ill or sick, or simply not feeling their best. His healing hands were an immense source of pride, almost as much as his beautiful feathered form. Every time you shrank back from him as he reached for you, a small part of him died. He wondered sometimes if it was his humanity, the part of him that prevented him from turning into one of those pirates. Sure, he’d killed many people over the course of his career as a Commander but it was always in self defense or to protect others. He’d never done anything as blatantly immoral as kidnap a civilian and keep them against their will while using their body for his own needs. There wasn’t really any other way to cut it - it was wrong. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from continuing to use you, he needed your blood for his Captain, his father.

And now he’d fucked up - again. He’d told you that as long as you followed his rules and lived within the confines he’d set for you that you’d be protected. That you’d be safe. That you’d learn to like living with them on their pirate ship. It wasn’t his fault Teach was a traitor but it wasn’t yours either - it was an unfortunate series of events that almost culminated in your death. Marco looked at your small body being cradled by Thatch’s larger one as he coaxed you into calming down. He almost felt like he was intruding on a private scene, something so tender and intimate that it wasn’t meant for the eyes of others. He wasn’t sure if Thatch remembered he was in the room anymore with how absorbed he was with you. Marco cleared his throat and locked eyes as his brother continued to pat your back and rock you.

Thatch himself was looking worse for the wear too. After he’d quickly swept you away to safety and gotten you to sleep, he’d cooked a massive amount of food to feed the hungry troops. There were strong feelings of betrayal and anger coursing through the crew and adding hunger to the mix would have been cause for upheaval. He’d whipped up a veritable feast for everyone, trying to keep some of the negative feelings at bay at least until Pops filled everyone in with what had happened. After all that, he’d immediately returned to you, bumping into Marco on the way. The two Commanders were going to have to rest soon, he just needed to wrap things up with you quickly.

“I’m going to try healing her throat but that’s about all I can do right now yoi,” Marco said to his brother. You didn’t acknowledge that Marco had spoken, still clinging to Thatch, who nodded. 

“Honey, Marco’s coming back over here to help you a little more. Let’s put a clean shirt on, yeah? The one from before is too dirty I think,” Thatch signaled for Marco to bring him a shirt from his own drawers. Marco walked over to the dresser and quickly sorted for one of the chef’s smaller shirts, handing it over to Thatch. Thatch dressed you like you were a doll, putting your arms through the holes as the large shirt engulfed your smaller form.

“Sit pretty like I know you can, yeah? Just for a moment, just for a tiny moment then Marco’ll be done, he’s gonna help you then you can be done for the night, we can go back to sleep if you want, just one little thing more, you can do that right?” Thatch murmured endlessly to you, turning you around gently in his lap so you were facing outward. Marco advanced slowly, giving you time to adjust to his presence. You tried to turn back into Thatch’s chest but he held you facing forward gently, trying to keep you from panicking while also keeping you in position for Marco. Marco half wished that Thatch was always around when he needed you, this was easier on both of you than having to do it himself. 

“Let Marco help you, Sweets. Just one last thing from him and you’re done, lift your chin, there you go, I’ll help you, see - it’s not so bad. C’mon after this, we can get a treat from the kitchens together, I’ll make us special tea -” Thatch kept up the one sided dialogue as he used his fingers to keep your chin raised so Marco could access your throat. You were whimpering but not overtly struggling against Thatch’s hold so Marco seized the moment and quickly put his hand against your swollen throat. He was able to produce a small amount of healing flame, enough to decrease the swelling so you’d be able to talk and swallow. After he released his hand Thatch did too and allowed you to curl into a ball in his lap. 

“All done, I’m so proud of you, you did so well, you’re looking better already. Do you want me to get tea for us? Bring it back here?” You nodded your head slightly with your eyes closed and Thatch kissed the top of your head. If Marco was less exhausted he might have something to say about it but for right now, Thatch could have stuck his tongue down your throat and Marco wouldn’t care. Marco left the Commander’s room but stuck around outside the door, waiting for his brother to exit.

“Thank you for taking care of her. Someone’s going to have to stay with her for the next day or so around the clock just to make sure no other complications arise yoi. I know you’re tired, I’ll ask Deuce to come and relieve you. She’s not going to want to stay in her room but maybe the two of them can borrow mine - I can sleep in hers or in the infirmary,” Marco was rambling his thoughts out loud, trying to coordinate everything quickly. Thatch put his warm hand on Marco’s shoulder with a soft smile.

“She can stay in my room, I don’t mind. I’ll bring her to the kitchens with me tomorrow morning, she can help. Go sleep, Marco. I left food for you in your room, not sure if it’s still hot though. Everything is fine, I’ll see you in the morning,” Thatch replied, pulling Marco into a bear hug. Marco leaned his head against his brother’s shoulder, grateful for the emotional support. Today had been rough and he didn’t want to think about tomorrow. 

Your POV

You sat on the counter of the main kitchen, dangling your legs as Thatch and the Fourth Division bustled all around you. He had brought you to work with him that morning and assigned you small tasks like cracking eggs or stirring bowls. You knew his division could handle this all easily and he was giving you busy work but you honestly didn’t mind. After you’d seen Marco the previous night, Thatch had made you chamomile tea and brought you sleeping medicine. You’d taken both and were in a deep dreamless sleep within fifteen minutes, cuddled up next to him in his bed, his large arm bringing you a sense of security and safety. It was warm, cozy, and like the chef, smelled faintly of mint and oregano. You could have stayed in that bed for the rest of your life but unfortunately that wasn’t the plan that Thatch laid out for you.

“Here, try this, Angel Cake,” Thatch said, raising a forkful of quiche to your mouth. You smiled at the stupid name and opened your mouth, accepting the delicious food easily. He’d been back to his antics the whole morning, calling you silly pet names while feeding you bite by bite. It was the most you’d eaten in a while, now that you’d thought about it. Your throat didn’t hurt as much as yesterday but you didn’t feel like talking, so you’d been silent as Thatch took care of you. 

You wanted to find some way to thank him for everything he’d done for you. You knew it wasn’t his job to take care of you or to make sure you were ok, that you were really Marco’s responsibility. You appreciated Thatch’s attention and effort, it almost felt like someone actually cared about you. You weren’t naive enough to think that it was completely sincere, you knew that they just needed your blood to take care of their Captain and that it wouldn’t do to have you comatose. Still, having the Chef hand feed you warm food wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to you on the ship.

You had just finished taking a bite of a still-warm chocolate chip scone when you saw the tell tale puff of blond hair that signaled Marco had entered the kitchen. You instinctively stiffened and for Thatch’s iconic hairdo in the kitchens. He was too far away for you to get to before Marco reached you, so you stayed put, silently willing the chef to come to your aid. Marco approached you, his eyes assessing your damaged face and neck. The bags under his eyes had receded, you supposed he had rested during the time you had as well. 

“Let’s go. It’s time,” he said softly, reaching for your hand to help you off the counter. The scone in your mouth felt like lead as you swallowed. You looked at him with wide eyes, shaking your head rapidly. Where was Thatch? You tried to look beyond Marco for your friend but the Phoenix blocked your sight with his large body. You started breathing quickly, sure you knew what Marco was going to tell you. 

“I know you don't want to, but Pops is on a strict schedule. He’s getting medicine today so we need you, I’m sorry,” Marco said, almost apologetic. You shook your head repeatedly, pulling your feet up onto the counter. You weren’t going today. You weren’t. He couldn’t - how could he make you - you weren’t even recovered - no. No. No. Not today. Marco reached for you again and you pulled your arms further back, further away from the doctor, further away from the room and the blood and the screaming and the - 

“It’s not - ugh, come on ,” you heard Marco say as you jumped off the counter and ran as fast as you could down the narrow length of the kitchen. You didn’t care how he felt about you or how childish you were being. You couldn’t do it today you just couldn’t. Why didn’t he understand? Wasn’t he a doctor? Why couldn’t he give you even one goddamn day - at least just the morning - to relax and feel like an actual human instead of a living blood supply? 

You sprinted as fast as you could, your breath coming in short bursts as you tried to outrun the Commander. The kitchen crew were too absorbed in their own work to try and stop you before you'd pass their stations. You ran down the length of the kitchen, nearly reaching the door to the stairs when hot arms grabbed you around the middle and picked you up into the air. You tried going completely limp to get out of their hold but whoever it was wasn’t letting go. Looking up, you saw it was Ace, the second division Commander. You’d met him a few times when Deuce had been hanging out with you in the infirmary. He was alright, but you didn’t know him that well. 

“Whoa, easy there,” Ace said, frowning at you. You redoubled your efforts to get away now that Marco was nearly beside Ace, trying to elbow Ace in the stomach. “Oof, you’re wiggly. Reminds me of - ow! What the fuck!?” Ace exclaimed as you bit his bicep, nearly drawing blood. He wrestled you into an easier hold for himself, holding both of your wrists in one of his large hands. You were clawing, pushing, anything you could do to get away, like a wild animal snared in a trap.

“Can’t hurt that bad if you’re able to bite hard yoi. Thanks, Ace. Saved me the trouble of catching her. Enough. It’s time to go,” Marco said, taking your wrists from Ace. You tried yanking them away desperately but Marco had a tight grip on you. “Ace is going to put you down and you’re coming with me, yeah? I know it’s going to be a hard day, I know. It isn’t good for anyone that you need to donate blood today. But it needs to be done, Pops can’t wait another day or change his schedule,” Marco said. You weren’t sure who he was talking to - his words certainly didn’t make you feel any better. A retort was on your mind, though not your lips, as you were interrupted by Ace.

“Eh, I don’t know Marco, she seems kinda off,” Ace said, not releasing you to the ground yet. You were still trying to get out of his grasp but the Commander was holding firm.

“Yeah. But Pops -”

“Don’t make her go today,” you heard Thatch say from behind Marco. He wasn’t yelling but his loud voice was rife with displeasure. Marco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“She has to. You can’t just stop chemo -”

“Just one day off, Marco. She nearly died yesterday. Have a heart, look at her,” argued the Chef. You hoped Thatch’s words reached Marco but you were familiar with how Marco operated. He wasn’t going to change his mind for anyone or anything. He was going to say that a day without giving blood would “set a bad precedent,” which is what he told you when you’d asked for your birthday off. Marco looked you up and down with an assessing gaze. 

“No. I’m sorry, I can’t. Don’t make it worse than it already is,” Marco said as Ace put you on the ground. You took a deep breath in order to try to run again but were quickly thrown over Marco’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You pleaded at Thatch with your eyes, the chef returning your sad stare with a twisted frown.

“Shelby and Rory - take over lunch. I’ll be back for dinner service,” Thatch yelled over his shoulder, taking off his apron. Your eyes widened as he unbuttoned his chef’s coat, leaving him in casual clothes. “I’m coming with, Sugar Pie, don’t you worry,” he said with a smile, giving his hands a final wipe off on his discarded jacket. He reached for you and you extended your arms so he could lift you off Marco’s shoulder with ease. Marco sighed again but you didn’t care about his feelings on the matter. 

“You wanna walk or you want me to carry you?” Thatch asked, bouncing you in his arms like a small child. You wiggled until he set you down, but kept your smaller hand in his as the two of you walked to the infirmary. You twined your fingers between his, enjoying the comforting squeeze the chef gave.

Marco POV

Marco was grateful Thatch had diffused the situation earlier that day and stayed with you for as long as he did. It ended up being 4 hours of you sitting on his lap under a blanket in the chair as he talked to you and told you stories. You still hadn’t said anything but the chef had been able to coax a small giggle out of you a few times as he whispered into your ear. Marco had known Thatch a long time and the lingering touches and glances clued Marco in to Thatch’s infatuation with you. It was also understandable that Thatch wasn’t pushing you given the circumstances, only giving you kisses on the crown of your head, forehead, and hand. The blush that rose in your cheeks when he did suggested your own interest. Marco wasn’t going to butt in as long as the budding romance didn’t interfere with your blood donation schedule. After Thatch had left, you’d deflated a little, content to watch the sea outside the small port side window.

Marco had come back to take the needle out after your final donation of the day and heal you. You were surprisingly calm given the tumultuousness of getting you into the chair and the IV in your arm. You didn’t speak as you watched him, almost detached, remove the needle and begin the healing process.

“I’m, ah, sorry for this. It really was necessary,” Marco began. He felt the need to apologize to you even though he knew it wouldn’t change anything between the two of you. You shrugged, not looking at him. “Pops needs - it has to do with the medicine he gets, how often it needs to be given. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t have - I would have let you rest today.” You didn’t even spare Marco a glance as he finished healing you and replenishing your platelets. “I know you don’t like me -”

“It’s not that I don’t like you, Marco,” you said quietly, still gazing off at the endless sea. Marco was surprised to hear you speak for the first time since the murder attempt but was eager to hear what you had to say. Maybe you finally understood his perspective, or had at least given it some thought.

“I fucking hate you.”

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff