#im sorry im so tired all the time and so ignorant. no excuses for it. i need to be a better man. just stay safe. that's all i ask.

[gibbearish]

the thing with autism right. is i know if i was having a full mental health crisis what i would end up doing is going to the emergency room and being like "hello, my name is (x) birthday (y), um i was hoping to talk to you about potential mental health inpatient care? i'm currently having a mental health crisis and don't think i can be trusted on my own" like if there's one thing i can be sure will live on in me no matter how hard the brainworms try. is my fucking customer service voice

[randombush3]

revocate animos (with or without me)

alexia putellas x reader

part one, part two, part three, part four

the second half of this part (it didn't fit in one post lol)

words: it's over 14k. i had lots to say.

summary: the final part, which originally had a different ending but i was told it was evil so i changed it.

warnings: it's mainly just sad, there's a bit of smut though

notes: i could give you so many excuses as to why this is being posted now but no one wants to read that so i'll just say sorry x

anyway, i got very lost along the way at points and had some serious plot crises that had me tearing my hair out. i researched children's behaviour to the point of needing an honourory qualification, and i spent the last three hours ignoring my girlfriend while i finished this off.

for as much as i put these two through (and myself tbh), i'm sad to finish it off. BUT ALSO NOW IM FREE.

have fun reading! and sorry about the length of it

London smells of dirty rain and exhaust fumes, of a homelessness crisis and inflation attempting to impersonate that of the Weimar Republic; greyish streets, cracks in the pavement, thousands of spices from all over the world. Grubby patterns, hidden by the smudging of millions of bottoms, coloured poles that used to match the train line but no longer do. You breathe it all in, eyes closed as the motion of the underground jerks you sideways, the train leaving London Bridge just as you left Barcelona. Without looking back. 

You had laughed when they told you they’d send a driver to get you from the airport. The luxury of some shiny black car held no appeal when compared to the familiar Northern line, its blackened route well-travelled and your own brick-road home. 

Part of this choice to ‘slum it’ is borne of your desire to return to the past; a time before the fame and the fortune, when camera flashes came from your parents’ Sony Cyber-shot and not paparazzos with a hunger to splash you across the front page of a slimy gossip magazine. There was no Alexia, then. The extent of Spanish in your life was Anya studying for her A-levels, and you’d spend time writing songs without it feeling like pulling teeth. Without having to relive some of the worst moments of your life. 

Those hadn’t happened yet.

God, you were so naive then back then. 

Your London shows are in Wembley. Two nights, two journeys through your album, through your heartbreak. Both are sold out. 

“See it, say it, sorted,” you mouth along to the voice, pushing the handle of your suitcase upwards, rising from your seat. The doors of the tube swoosh open, the yellow line of the platform attacking your tired eyes as Highgate station is revealed to you. You hear a whisper of ‘is that Y/n L/n?’ but you don’t turn around. 

The wheels of your suitcase gurgle against the bumpy pavement leading up to your house, but they grow quieter as you approach. They must sense the tension, glad to have the smoother surface of your driveway to move across as you force yourself to continue walking forwards. 

A woman is standing on your porch. Her body swivels around as she hears you stop just behind her. 

Leah takes in the sight of you, deciding that you definitely did not enjoy Barcelona. “I was just about to ring the doorbell, but I guess you wouldn’t have answered the door anyway,” she says with an awkward chuckle, not sure if you want to talk about how rough you look. You cried the entire flight, and refused to contact anyone once you had landed, hoping they assumed your plane had crashed and you had drowned somewhere in the English Channel. 

“I got here in the morning.” Your voice is unused. It croaks, shattered. 

“Let me get your bag?” asks Leah, rather firmly, leaving you no room to decline her request before she has stepped off the porch and into your personal space. She looks up at you, wondering how you manage to look so beautiful even now, hand blindly reaching out for the hard shell of your suitcase as she stares. “How’re Nico and–” 

Your lips silence her before she is finished. Leah freezes, surprised this is the moment you have chosen to kiss her.

But she misses you as soon as you pull away. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and she cringes at the self-loathing that drips from your words. A tear rolls down your cheek, but you are unsure whether it falls because you have kissed her or because you want to kiss her again. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

You must have argued with Alexia. Leah’s realisation weighs heavy on her heart. Something has to have happened for you to have made your move, because Leah had been starting to accept the idea that you were still in love with your ex and she was nothing more than a friend. She had been looking forward to your concert tonight, in all honesty, and was excited to see you again, glad to have you in her life in any way, shape, or form.

“Because,” she starts hesitantly, “because you didn’t like it? Or…” 

“Leah.” 

“If you wanted to kiss me again, I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Leah,” you repeat, the vowels almost failing to drop from the tip of your tongue. This is a dangerous game, but the look in Leah’s blue eyes tells you that she is happy to play it. “Leah, I… I shouldn’t have kissed you?” 

“Is that a question?” 

You blink. “I’m not sure.” 

“If it’s a question, I’d say that the answer is the opposite. And that we should go inside.” She slides her hand over the metal handle of your suitcase, warm skin covering your fingers where your grip is still curled around it. “But only if you want to.” 

Do you want to? 

You value your friendship, you really do; Leah has been there for you many times since you met her, never asking too many questions. She means something more than what you crave from her, and doesn’t deserve to be the woman you use to detach yourself from reality. 

But Leah is looking at you with desire that has been missed, relentlessness promised by her toned muscles. Leah is looking at you as though you are the only star in the galaxy or the sun on a rainy day. Leah is looking at you like she wants to devour you, and you, with no soul left to give, resign to letting her have your body.

“This won’t change anything, right?”

It’s a mean question. You know that. 

“Course not,” Leah lies. 

You let it convince the both of you. 

Pink glitter covers the dining table at one end, and shiny green stars are scattered on top of the brown grain of the wood on the other.

“She might be at soundchek,” Alexia explains to Nico, who is finished with his Mother’s Day creation and is now intent on FaceTiming you to show you the card he has made. “And cards are supposed to be a surprise. That’s why we made envelopes!” 

“But you said my card should be put in a museum,” he replies with a frown, his nose crinkling in confusion just as yours does. “So we show her now.” 

“Mi amor, that’s not how it works,” laughs Alexia, reaching out to ruffle his hair. With Elena settled comfortably on her healthy knee, gleefully pushing piles of glitter around so that it mixes with the glue smeared on her card, it is safe to say that this year’s cards are going to be successes. “Mama has promised to call when she gets home, and you can tell her that you have a surprise for her. That will build up the excitement, and make it even better when she gets to open it.” 

Your son has become a cynic. “And when will that be?” 

“Mother’s Day is on the 19th, so we have three days to wait.” You have purposely chosen a chartered route to Tokyo that flies via Barcelona so that you get to spend the day with your children before your fortnight in Asia to end the first half of the tour. “Do you want to write the words out for Lela once the glue has dried?” 

“I don’t know what Lela wants me to say,” he explains with great concern, turning to his sister with a very serious expression. He speaks to her in English, because he knows that this card is for you. He understands that there are two Mother’s Days, though he thinks it’s because he has two mothers, and that Alexia’s day is in May. When Alexia opens her mouth to speak, Nico is quick to shut her down. “Calla, Mami, no sabes nada de inglés.”

Your legs slam together but find no available route with Leah’s body in between them. 

It feels… good. 

Liberating.

You haven’t brought her into your bed, which she notices but doesn’t comment on. It’s excusable to be on the sofa, to have stayed downstairs for the hours she has spent trying to make you feel better, because the clock has only just ticked its way to lunchtime. You laugh to yourself at the thought of that, amused by the notion that you have already eaten.

Leah is curious when it comes to you. That much you had expected, having been aware of her lingering gazes long before the sores on your heart had calloused into tougher muscle. She has been waiting for this resiliently, and you present yourself to her as though you are a new toy she finally gets to play with. She kisses you slowly at times, to memorise the warmth of your tongue or the jut of your chin, but she often grows impatient, wanting nothing more than to end her torture and find out what it is like. 

What is it like to have a woman like you? To wake up next to you, kiss you, touch you? 

How does your mind work? What do you smell like just after getting out of the shower? Does your accent ever slip, or is it really that posh? 

The air in the living room is hazy now, and your eyes close in bliss as you let your sweat seep into the grainy fabric of your white sofa. Leah doesn’t crawl into your open arms as you assume she will. 

She wipes her mouth. 

Although Leah has enjoyed this very much, she knows that this instance has not been you allowing her to start to love you. It has been for her to help you forget how much pain you are in. Somewhere deep down, she cares, but she doesn’t try to search for the emotion.

“So,” she says with a giggle, as if you are two teenage girls, best friends who have decided to kiss so that they can practise for the real thing, “do I need to send an apology present to your makeup artist?” Sitting back on her knees, she swipes one hand down to pluck her t-shirt from the floor, pulling it on top of her naked body before sending you an exaggerated smirk and prodding the developing bruise on your neck.

“Fuck,” you groan, batting her hand away. “I completely forgot I had that thing tonight.” You also need to call your children before Alexia bans your name from her household (if that hasn’t happened already). 

“That ‘thing’ being your concert at Wembley?” 

“I’d have thought selling out Wembley is the norm for you now, Captain,” you tease, clearing your throat. “England have done it, Champions of Europe for the very first time.” 

“You’re freakishly good at a commentator’s voice.” 

“Gotten used to being my own commentator. Only Spanish streams in my house – even United matches!” You smile at your own frustration but it quickly sours as awkwardness drops on top of you. You bring your arms up to cover your bare chest, but Leah clears her throat with softened eyes and you no longer feel so exposed. 

You feel safe.

“What happened in Barcelona?” You shake your head at her question. “That bad, huh?” she presses. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you tell her, grey clouds hanging over you as your voice darkens and lowers. “Like, at all.” 

“I think you should. It’s better it comes out now than later when you’ve had lots to drink and no idea who you’re ranting about it to, isn’t it? And it’s just me; I’m not going to judge you.” 

“But you know her. You know her friends.” Your hands move to cover your face. Leah can have your body, but you don’t want her to have your tears. “Thank you for caring, babe, but I think I’m going to handle this one on my own.” 

“Well, you know that–” 

“You’re always a phone call away.” You smile, tears sucked back inside you, bottled away in glassware you store in crates labelled ‘VERY FRAGILE’. Desperate to change the subject, you adjust your position on the sofa, sitting up. Leah tries very hard not to stare at the curves of your chest. “You know, Lee, I never thought you’d be that good in bed.” 

…

Alexia is in desperate need of advice. 

Her muscles contract and relax, the tissues pulling on her bone, which, in turn, pulls her. She is strung along, driven perhaps by her leap in recovery and impending comeback. She almost breaks out into a jog, but the church she has dragged herself to comes into view before she can gain speed. 

She had not expected this from herself. 

It’s nothing special to her, though she will admit that the architecture of the building does hold some sense of divinity, but the heavy wooden door is propped open and she is drawn inside. 

The Sacrament of Reconciliation, Fridays, 17.00-17.30. 

Alexia checks her watch, the golden links gleaming on her wrist, catching the sunlight that filters in through the glass windows. 

She catches a glimpse of white behind the doors of the Confession booth, becoming acutely aware of how empty the church is. The curtain has been pulled back, bunched to the left-hand side carefully, as though the previous handler had moved with peace. 

It can’t be that bad, can it? 

It’s just like therapy. 

Her feet carry her forwards once more, leading her into the wooden booth. It smells old. The cushion she kneels on is blue, she thinks, but she cannot tell because it goes dark once she pulls the curtain shut. 

Alexia is not a religious person. Sure, she signs the cross before stepping onto the pitch, and, like most people she knows, she is baptised, but her faith is limited to that. When she tore her ACL, she spent evenings trying to pray, trying to force her to believe in Him. It would have been comforting to know that someone had a plan for her, was watching over her carefully with the knowledge of how it was going to play out. It was to no avail. 

But somehow she knows what to say, and so she does. 

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” She recites the words like lines from a play, head bowed in shame as she writes her next sentences in her mind. “This is my first and, probably, my last confession.” 

Silence. 

She rests her hands in her lap, shuffling around to ensure she is not pressing down on her knee in any way that is harmful. It would kill her to have to push back her return to the pitch because of some stupid thing she has spontaneously chucked herself into. 

“I messed up.” She laughs. “No, that is actually an understatement. I know this is a church and I really shouldn’t swear, but I fucked up. Father, I had Heaven in my hands and I threw it away as though it were meaningless. Was it greed? Was it greed that led me to do it?” 

“Do what, my daughter?” 

The priest sounds younger than she’d thought he would be. 

“I had an affair with a woman whom I am certain I do love a little bit, but, by doing that, I destroyed a life that was perfect. Was it greed?” 

“I think you know the answer to that.” 

“Was it temptation?” Alexia tries again, desperately. Part of her yearns for the priest to tell her it was the Devil so that she can shed the responsibility. “I love my wife. More than anything, I love her. I do not think my own life is worth living if it is not in service to her, to our children, to the smile she reserves for her favourite people. I… I didn’t attempt it, but I thought about killing myself.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “Only once, but I thought it all the same. My sister called me selfish.

“It’s just – forgive me – fucked, isn’t it? I got carried away. I got lonely, I was alone. I craved something to make me forget, to pinch the gaping hole in my life shut. I relied on it to make me feel better, and it did for a time. But now it has made me feel much, much worse.

“And I am sorry! I am so, so sorry. I have grown sick of the word; I’ve used it so much that it holds no meaning anymore. It doesn’t do my regret justice, nor my quest for forgiveness, and I’m really on that quest, Father, I want to stress that to you. I lost my temper and said things I should not have said – things I don’t even believe – but I did not mean them then, and I do not mean them now.” 

“You are not religious,” accuses the priest, very gently. His voice washes over Alexia’s ears like a wave of warm saltwater from the Mediterranean, and she feels comfortable enough to swim into the expanse in front of her. “Our God is forgiving, but it is not His forgiveness that you seek. I cannot give you a prayer that will make her absolve your sins, because our holy words are not spells.” 

“Father,” croaks Alexia. As her lips part, she tastes the saltwater of the sea, dripping down her cheeks as though the tide has come in and there is no other option than for her to be flooded. “Please help me. I don’t know what to do.” 

The priest speaks, but she assigns the voice to someone else. 

The first thing you forget about a person is what their voice sounds like. It lingers like a feeling you can’t quite name; distant, distorted, enhanced by fantasy.

Alexia does not remember her father’s voice. 

The realisation is crushing. 

She knows his words – they are her prayers – but, like Catholics do not know the voice of their God, she can no longer hear the voice of hers. 

What would her father say if he saw her like this? On her knees in a Confession booth, backed against the wall with nowhere to hide?

This is not the girl he was proud of. Alexia, of course, is not that eighteen-year-old anymore; she hasn’t been for a decade. But, recently, the legacy of that unknown Levante player has disappeared. 

Alexia is so very lost. 

She does not know where she is in her own city. In her home. 

She does not know her place in her life, much less her place in yours – if you will still grant her one. 

She has not felt the thrill of football for months, has driven herself to Hell and back, and considered giving up enough to be on the brink of actually doing it. 

She has seen countless meals hit the water of her toilet, never digested, never deserving of the very thing that keeps her alive. 

She has counted your sacrifices, memorising the digits of an ongoing figure so that she can punish herself with the knowledge. 

She has tried to forget English, tried to improve her English, and taken vows of silence. 

She has cried and cried and cried until the only thing left for her to excrete is her hot, red blood. 

She has searched for a way out of the maze. She has failed every time. 

Alexia is lost without you, and she knows it. Everyone knows it, perhaps even you yourself. Do you revel in that fact? Do you enjoy it? 

You have a right to watch her suffer. You do, you do, you do. 

Alexia runs a hand through her damp hair, sweating as she sobs in the booth next to some stranger who she will never meet again. Her mouth is dry but her cries are wet and raw, and they scrape her throat as she chokes them out, losing her breath and falling silent only to catch it and begin again. The cushion burns her knees as though she is trapped in an inferno, the darkness blazing against her skin. 

The priest talks to her for a long time, not letting her leave until she has calmed down. She sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her palm before softly pressing her thumbs to her blotchy cheeks to clear the final tears from them. 

When he is finished, he instructs her to take a few deep breaths, which she does. “You are not entitled to her forgiveness,” he reminds her. He begins the Prayer of Absolution – he insists for the sake of closure – and Alexia walks away from the church no more than five minutes later. 

She is still stuck in the maze, but she has restored that voice in her head that she knows will help her find her way out.

…

“So you went to church?” Olga asks with an amused smile, taking the first sip of her latte, relishing in the gentle burn of the liquid. She needs this coffee; she stayed up late last night because she knew Alexia has been struggling. There is nothing worse than being asleep when Alexia calls her for help. 

“I have no idea how I ended up there,” Alexia explains, somewhat defensive about yesterday’s catharsis. “Confession is way better than therapy. There is too much accountability in therapy.” 

“You have a lot to account for.” 

She huffs out a breath, taking a sip of her own drink. “I know, Olga, but I cannot change the past, so what would you like me to do?” Olga doesn’t reply. The brunette parts her lips, but promptly closes her mouth when she sees Alexia’s slight discomfort. “Mama wants you to come to dinner tonight. I… I do too.” 

Olga’s smile is big and genuine. “I’d love that,” she answers. “Eli is the best cook out of our friends’ parents. Everyone knows that.” 

You’re in London, childless, and are watching the grand old Arsenal play (reluctantly, forced to by Leah if anything). Alexia has seen the pictures of you at the match on Instagram; she has already felt the frustration that you are most-likely never going to watch Barcelona play again unless it is to support the other team. Like clockwork, Alexia seeks to fill the gaping hole you have left in her life. Somewhere, somehow, the lines of friendship between her and Olga have blurred. 

…

It takes just over a month for Leah to crack. 

You appear in London every two weeks, attending meetings and events, but she has decided, once and for all, to see through your excuses. You come to London for her. She knows that, and so do you. Leah’s ego has not reached a size where she believes she is enough for you, but the facts (and Lia Wälti) tell her she is wrong. 

Except, what Leah tends to leave out is that no matter how many times you let her sleep with you, she still is unable to access a certain part of your mind. 

She has never been upstairs in your house because you always prefer to go to her place in St. Albans. She has never slept in your bed, nor woken up next to you. 

You talk to her like she is still the same old Leah, the captain you befriended during the tournament of her lifetime, your entrance in her life intertwined with the ecstasy of winning the Euros. She closes her eyes and thinks of how you looked that summer; white England shirt, sunglasses pulled down over your eyes. Smiling, cheering. For her, she greedily claims to herself.

Sometimes, in her mind, you lift your sunglasses – you always seem to be crying when she pictures this – but Leah is only vaguely familiar with the timeline of your divorce. This is the issue.

There is a door that you have locked and refuse to let Leah find the key. It leads to heartbreak, to Nico and Elena, to a family you once had. 

“I wish you would let me in,” Leah says one day. (The day she cracks.) She tears her ACL two days prior, something that makes you feel guiltily nauseous, and you have come to visit her. She knows that you had flown over the minute you had swapped custody with Alexia. 

Your legs curl into your chest as you try to reduce the amount of space you are taking up on Leah’s sofa, cautious of her injured knee. Leah misses the warmth of your thighs, and wants to revoke her conversation starter instantly, pained that she has to even ignite the fire of this forbidden topic. “What do you mean?” comes your quiet reply, unwilling to disturb the peace of her living room. The peace of existing side-by-side. 

“Exactly what I said.” Leah nods to emphasise her agreement with herself. “I wish you would let me in, because how do you expect me to love you if I don’t know you?” 

She sees the bullet fly through the air; she sees the moment it hits you, the way you go rigid. Dead. Dying? 

“It’s crazy because it usually takes years for me to feel about someone the way I feel about you, and I just… I just wanted to tell you that it’s okay to let me in. I want to hear everything, to know everything.” 

“Oh.” What had you expected when you kissed her? “Oh, Leah.” 

“You don’t have to apologise.” She assigns your guilt, the tears in your eyes, to your distance. Perhaps you hadn’t realised, perhaps it is a coincidence Leah has never slept in the bed you used to share with Alexia. Maybe you are unaware that Leah has never heard you speak Spanish, and doesn’t know a single thing about your life in Barcelona. 

You’re a busy person, after all. 

“No, no,” you dismiss quickly, shaking your head. Leah can’t help but wonder if the paranoid voice in her head is right; has she been reading too much into this? “Fuck, I am such a twat.” 

But you don’t elaborate further, asking how she’s feeling, distracting her from your realisation about her realisation. Before Leah knows it, you are making her laugh harder than she has in a month, and soon, like most good things, your visit comes to an end. 

Returning to Barcelona is a little weird. 

You feel as though you have done nothing but check over your shoulder the entire journey, staring the past straight in the eye and wishing you could change it. 

You hadn’t meant to make her fall in love with you. (But she has. Oh, she has.) 

This week’s swap is no different; the same park as usual, the same pleasant weather to undergo an unpleasant task. 

On the bench usually occupied by Olga, a different, blonder head comes into view. 

“Irene?” you ask in surprise, wondering if she has been sent in Olga’s stead or just so happens to have brought Mateo, her son, to the very same park. You sit down beside her, somewhat pleased to not see Alexia’s henchwoman today. “Where’s the free childcare?” 

The defender’s eyes narrow, as though she is debating whether or not she should tell you. 

Irene has known Alexia for a long time, and, by extension, has known you for a long time too. She is calm, level-headed, and mature, much like Alexia. Except Irene hasn’t ever thought to cheat on her wife. 

You are clearly in a lot of pain, and you have a right to be; Irene does not rise to your comment. “Olga has gone on holiday,” she states with practised neutrality. 

“Ah, they’ve broken up.” 

Eyebrows raised, she turns to you, breaking her line of sight that encompasses Nico, Mateo, and Elena. The playground is small enough, and very safe. “They were never together.” You wait patiently for her analysis of whatever the fuck was going on between them. “Olga said she wasn’t what Alexia needed. She’s on holiday with Carla, and I guess she is quite upset.” 

“And Alexia?” You know Irene does not like to gossip, nor stir the pot. So you can be nosy about how she is doing. 

“I think her ego was bruised, but she sees Olga’s point. She has been… better recently. She’s focused on getting back onto the pitch, and Jona is only saying good things about it.” Irene’s eyes brighten at the thought of her captain’s recovery, and her tone soars through the air. The entire team has worried for Alexia, spending their own nights tossing and turning, wondering if the old version of her will ever return. “I know you two don’t speak, but if you did, you’d get a glimpse of what it was like before.”

You can’t help your smile, and Irene does not make you feel pathetic for wearing it. “Good.” 

“I heard you were in London?” 

“Visiting a… friend.” Irene is not a gossip, you remind yourself. “I think I might have to stay in this country for a bit and let things cool down over there.” 

She chuckles. “Whose heart have you broken?” She won’t tell Alexia, when Alexia inevitably asks about you, that you are seeing someone. Not that you have confirmed that to her. 

“I’m yet to break it,” you tell her, sighing, “but I know I will, and that is much, much worse.”

“Hey, at least you have two weeks of being endlessly busy to keep your mind off it.”

Children change a lot in two weeks, so Irene then launches into an update on school, clubs, and everything else. She gets the information from Alexia, of course, who writes out a list every time you switch over. No one has ever handed you the piece of paper before, worried that her handwriting will be an unnecessary reminder of the pain she has caused you, but, for some reason, Irene does today.

You are not put off by the swirling Spanish in front of you, instead choosing to study it. You have spent hours in Alexia’s lap as she scrawls out football notes upon football notes, scribbling prompted by footage or, freakishly, her own memory. From the lightness of the indentations of the pen, you figure that Alexia is exhausted. From the half-finished sentences, you decide that she was rushing when she wrote this. 

But, as much as you delight in your brief analysis of the evidence in your palms like Sherlock Holmes solving a mystery, you can’t ignore just how greatly you have missed the letters that swim between the lines (and the hand from which they were written). 

Irene spares you your dignity by standing from the bench and checking on the children just as your tears begin to fall. 

…

You take one last look in the mirror embedded in the sun visor, ensuring your hair is perfectly in place and your earrings match your cream, sleeveless turtleneck to poise you just between casual and smartly-dressed. A quiet grumble from the backseat draws your attention away from your reflection, though your last glimpse at your concealed eyebags and red-rimmed irises leaves you feeling a little dejected and mourning the days you’d actually get some sleep. (Or wouldn’t, smoking cigarettes on the balcony while talking Alexia’s ear off.) 

“Mama, we go,” decides Elena with a huff, tugging on the buckle of her car seat. 

It’s Nico’s first-ever recital tonight. 

He started playing the piano in September, when his teacher at school had mentioned how he boasted to the children in his class that he was a musician: ‘if I am Catalan because my mami is Catalan, then I am musician because my mami is musician’. You felt guilty. His teacher says he is naturally talented, voice lacking surprise but praiseful nonetheless, and is proud to name Nico his youngest student at tonight’s show. 

The bouquet of daisies you ask Elena to hold makes her look like a miniature carnival float, and she toddles into the venue by your side while you do mental gymnastics between the knowledge that Alexia will be here tonight and the nerves for your son’s performance. It’s nothing complicated, but you worry he will hate it. This is the only thing he does that is a nod towards you; his one deviation from his worship of Alexia. 

“Mami!” squeals the walking flowers as soon as you make it to the half-full hall. You direct your gaze to the three rows your daughter refers to, every seat lined with either professional footballers or family. With a sudden rush of blood to your head, you feel out of your depth.

You’re not sure whether the hazel eyes that find yours help or worsen that. 

“Keep it moving,” you mutter firmly, holding her hand so she does not make a break for it and tumble right over to the cohort of FC Barcelona and Seguras. Not wanting to get too close to them, you take your seat in the penultimate row, knowing Nico will not be able to see you over the grand piano set up on the stage wherever you sit. “You can talk to her later, sweetheart.” 

She is in an obedient mood, most-likely intimidated by the tension in the air. You tell yourself it’s the stress radiating from the line of performers sitting on the front row. Nico stands on his chair, waving first to Alexia and then to you (it’s your turn with them so you are a lot less exciting right now), before he is lightly scolded by his teacher and the first child walks up the steps and onto the stage. 

Five uninspiring children later, Nico is finally led up onto the stage. His teacher sits down on the piano stool and nudges him forwards. He smiles brightly at the room. You reciprocate, encouraging Elena to do the same to keep her engaged with an admittedly boring event. 

“Bona nit a tothom! Jo sóc en Nicolau i tinc quatre anys i ara aniré a tocar ‘Brillia Brillia Estel Petit’.” The audience melts before him. “Mama, that means ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’,” he whispers loudly. 

You send him a thumbs up. He sends you a grin back, before giggling as he climbs onto the piano stool beside his teacher. 

Situated comfortably, feet dangling adorably far away from the pedals, his chubby, little fingers hit the ivory keys once, then twice. 

You pray this goes well. 

It does. 

He plays with two hands, something you hadn’t expected, and Elena holds in her noisy yawn until after he is finished so she must have been invested in the performance. Your own hands sting after you clap with such prideful force that you are the loudest in the room, and the hoots and hollers from Alexia’s territory only make Nico even happier as he bounces down the steps and back to his seat to wait for the others to do their pieces. 

After the recital has finished, you walk down the aisle separating the seats in half to get to Nico, daughter-less courtesy of a squadron of football-playing kidnappers. 

“How was that?” you ask him smugly, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. “I knew you would be brilliant, even when you were scared you weren’t going to be. Do you know how proud I am of you?” 

“This much?” He holds his hand about thirty centimetres apart. “Mami says this much.” 

When he widens his hands, you gesture something even bigger. 

“‘Immensely’ is the word I would use.” 

“Im-men-lee?” 

“Es que nuestro orgullo llena una casa sin techo. Hasta el cielo.” 

“Up to the sun,” you amend, ignoring the way the voice has made you stiffen. You don’t read too much into her misuse of the collective pronoun. There is no ‘our’ in ‘affair’.

Alexia’s hand hovers by your waist for a moment, muscle memory getting the better of her before she draws it back into her body. Nico gives her a matching hug, telling her how much he has missed her. 

You try not to blame yourself for his derailed childhood. 

“You were amazing, petit,” Alexia says, picking him up with one strong arm and settling him on her hip. You grip the wrapper of the bouquet you are holding. “Did Mama get you a gift?” 

He peers at the daisies in your hand with curiosity. Shaking his head, his confusion deepens as he studies the bouquet you are extending towards him. “They are for Mami? Flowers are for love.” 

“I love you,” you tell him, not trying to make a point but instinctively prickling in the presence of Alexia.

The silence is awkward. 

A few metres away, whilst entertaining the sleepy toddler on her lap, Mapi is excitedly talking to Alba. “Y/n hasn’t killed her yet,” says the defender with glee, one of your admirers. The team respected you before, never questioning their captain’s judgement nor family, but when word got out about the affair amongst the older girls, most of them began to see you as more than Alexia’s wife. A new layer to your character was revealed; you are a strong, independent, and successful woman. Football nerds sometimes forget success comes in more forms than blaugrana kits. “They made such a beautiful couple.” 

“They did.” Alba watches as you talk to your son, your eyes actively avoiding the woman in front of you. “Our mother has sent Alexia over there to invite her to dinner. It killed me to see her sit alone.” 

You are too used to the feeling of eyes on you that you no longer notice the weight of people’s stares, but, if this were not the case, you would know that most of the heads attached to the bodies sitting in Alexia’s rows had been swivelled towards you for majority of the recital. Pity is never a desired emotion to have offered to you, but the Barça girls can’t help but feel that way whenever they see your forehead crinkle in an attempt to understand Catalan, presuming you only speak Spanish as you have more than enough on your plate. (And, as most of the players will admit, your children speak better English than them, so one can only assume that it is your main method of communication.)

“She’s a very good mother,” Mapi comments with a small nod, sucking a sharp breath in as she begins to sympathise with you even more. Not a day goes by where she witnesses the suffering Alexia’s idiocracy has caused – as Ingrid, her girlfriend, knows very well – and does not fail to scream in frustration about her best friend’s stupid mistakes.

“She’s a very good person.” 

They fall silent as they see your head tilt up, jaw clenching as Alexia begins to speak to you. 

“Can you hear what she’s saying?” whispers Eli to her daughter, equally invested in the conversation. “I knew I should have sent you; Alex is too socially awkward.” 

“Mami, she is talking to her wife,” replies Alba, though she remembers what happened the last time Alexia and you had spoken and the outcome of that. Maybe that commences her increasing agreement with her mother… “I guess you– Are they coming over here?!” 

Even you seem surprised by how your legs carry you towards the Barcelona clan, a step behind Alexia and Nico. Hesitant would be an understatement, but most of them are too preoccupied with congratulating the four-year-old they have come to watch to notice your tight-lipped smile and trembling hands. 

“Hola,” you say shyly. 

Eli pulls you into her strong embrace without missing a beat. “Te he echado de menos, hija.” 

You try very hard not to burst into tears. 

They take you to dinner; a plan you had known about but not envisioned yourself included in. Although it’s your fortnight, Alexia (through the conduit of Alba) had previously arranged to drop Nico and Elena over to yours before midnight. 

You blow off your FaceTime call with Leah.

The restaurant is on the lower level of fine-dining. It’s chic, but it does not make your children feel unwelcome. The table is set for five places, though Alba informs you that the reason for this is because the reservation was made before she broke up with her girlfriend. 

“Mama, what are you going to eat?” asks Nico, slipping back into his old life seamlessly, mixing his English with the Spanish he knows everyone can understand, his legs swinging underneath the table with an enthusiastic energy. He is still too young to pick up on how far apart his parents are sitting, or how you refuse to let your eyes linger on Alexia’s tanned skin, far too much of it shown off by the tank top she sports in the humidity of the busy restaurant. 

You glance around the room, searching for those who have recognised you. Under the weight of at least four curious stares, you motivate yourself to enjoy your meal. 

“Not sure yet, babe,” you answer. “Alba, do you fancy sharing something?”

“Yeah, of course.” The younger Putellas smiles. Alexia knows who has lost the war.

Dinner passes with light conversation centred on very neutral topics. No man’s land is clearly the children, and you had never expected to be so desperate to continue a conversation about school lunches until the other options are how Alexia had an affair with her teammate or that your song with her favourite singer is topping the charts and explicitly about being cheated on. 

Although you and Alexia both watch how many times your wine glasses are refilled, Alba lets loose, as does Eli (probably to ease the stress on her heart that her girls force upon her). Their cheeks redden and Nico begins to yawn, Elena already curled into your side halfway between dreams and reality. 

“Should we head out?” you ask it to the table, but the only functioning person is Alexia, really, and so you close your eyes to avoid having to make eye contact. 

“I should probably get Mama and Alba into a taxi.” 

“If you call one for them, I will call one for us?” Your suggestion is instinctive; an old habit reminiscent of many similar nights, back when there was love and happiness and a relationship that didn’t feel like walking on a floor made of broken glass. “Or did you drive here?” 

“No, but you drove,” comes Alexia’s reminder. Internally, you face-palm. Parking the car before dinner seems like years ago; something feels different now. “But if you don’t feel up to it, I could drive you home. I haven’t had much to drink and I have nothing else planned for tonight. Elena is practically in a coma anyway.” 

You laugh – a softened version of it so as to not rouse the dead weight of your daughter. 

“Are you sure?” 

It’s late.

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

I don’t care. 

“Mama,” Alba slurs, pulling her mother in close. “The saint has given her sinner a second chance.” 

It may not be as quiet as she thinks it is. Alexia, occupied, is deaf to the comment. You are not.

This is not a second chance. 

This is a lift home. 

The last time all four of you sat in a car together was the day you found out about Alexia’s affair. 

You had suffered then – are still suffering now – but your anger was hot and sharp and new. Fresh wounds. 

Now, though more scabbed-over than healed, those wounds no longer seem to gush blood; you entertain Alexia’s stiff small-talk. 

She asks about the tour, never veering too far off the road of practicality and shared custody. When does it resume? Which has been your favourite show? 

“Wembley is like playing El Clásico in Camp Nou,” she determines, not needing to ask about that because she knows you too well. 

Your memories of the London shows involve a naked Leah Williamson. (If only she knew that!) 

“Yeah, London was great.”

Awkwardness is part of Alexia’s personality; something you are fairly certain you still love. She is shy, though it perhaps comes off as stoicity, and she has never been good at making conversation. You know she hates it, and you know that her eyes, Alexia’s eyes, are gazing at you every time she thinks you are not looking. 

She is weary about the desire darkening her pupils, but she does not do well to hide her hunger nonetheless. 

“Go into the carpark,” you instruct as you approach your building.

Wordlessly, she presses the correct pin into the pin-pad, never having forgotten it. 

She parks the car beside a new-looking Mercedes. It’s not a car for children, and she imagines it reeks of cigarettes – there is no way you have stopped smoking. 

It belongs in the carpark; in your little world of celebrities and male footballers; of money and fame and fortune. (One could argue you lack the latter, what with your current situation.) Alexia’s life has never moulded with yours. 

Perhaps it never will. 

Perhaps she slept with Jenni because they are equals, you think. Because Jenni understands Alexia in a way you cannot. 

“Mami,” cries a quiet voice from the backseat. You stop staring at the grey, concrete walls, snapping back to reality as Alexia shifts to turn her attention to the source of the whimpering. “No quiero que te vayas.” 

“Lela, me tengo que ir.” 

“Pero–” 

“You could always come up to say goodnight to them?” 

It starts off innocently. 

Of course it does. Of course you are nowhere near forgiveness, more likely to forget about the crushing affair before you excuse any of her actions. Sometimes, you wish for amnesia. Sometimes, you refer to the tab open in Safari – ‘is there a drug that makes you forget?’. 

Alexia is granted a tuck-in and a story for each child, glad that their rooms are separate so that her time in her home is prolonged. The walls are familiar, the floor is the same. There are new pictures in new frames, but the old ones have not been removed. If you had ever wished to take photographs of your relationship down, you have never acted on it. 

She realises you must not spend a lot of time here alone. Maybe you cannot bear it. Maybe your life in London is more important to you than she had thought. 

Anyway, for as much as she subtly noses around and draws out the night, she has no intention of overstaying her welcome, sure that she probably did that the minute she stepped inside. 

In fact, she is on her way out, under the assumption that you will not want to speak to her.

“So you’re back to playing?” 

“Sí.” 

A doorway conversation. 

You’re English. You’re very polite. Alexia knows this, tries to not get her hopes up. 

“Does that mean you don’t want a taste of this ‘97?” You hold the bottle up to her, the cork lying on the granite worktop with the incriminating suggestion that you have already had a glass. 

“We play the day after tomorrow.” 

“Oh, Ale, this is a good one.” 

How many times have you said that to her before? The same tone, the same look in your eye; red tinting your lips, one hand on a lighter because you smoke when you’re drunk, even if you refuse to touch the cancer-sticks when you are sober. 

“Was this a gift?” she asks, drawn into your magnetic field like a flimsy paper clip; thin, worn metal trying to piece the pages of her life back together. “Or have you been making ridiculous purchases again?” 

“I can assure you that it is not ‘ridiculous’.” You moan in delight as you take a sip from a glass you subsequently hand over to her. “Gosh, that is divine, and you are simply going to dissolve when you taste it.” 

Dissolve she does, but one can attribute that to the company. 

The contents of the bottle dwindles quickly, paired with a vulnerable retelling of her ACL recovery (sans suicidal thoughts and huge, huge regret about the affair – she doesn’t want to bring that up, seeing as you are clearly trying to forget about it), and the warm breeze of the Barcelona nighttime. The salty air from the mediterranean mingles with cigarette smoke, though Alexia softly says that you really should stop. 

You hesitate on your next puff, but you inhale it all the same. “I like my wine smokey.” 

She opens the next bottle for you. 

The wine glasses are soon discarded, pouring becoming shaky and difficult. 

“They sleep all the way through the night here,” observes Alexia, surprised that no little hands have knocked on the glass door leading to the balcony. The last time you had reached for the wine, you’d moved closer to her. You have not yet returned to your original seat on the other side of the rattan sofa. 

You raise your eyebrows, under the impression that they were both sleep trained. “They don’t at yours?” 

“Elena keeps trying to sleep in bed with me.” 

“Maybe she likes you more,” you suggest with a light, alcohol-infused laugh. “She must have been upset to find her place filled by your friend.” 

“No,” murmurs Alexia, “it has never been filled. Though I don’t think you can say the same.” 

You swallow the stickiness of the wine running down your throat.

“Not in our bed. My bed.” You fight yourself. “Our bed.” 

“In Highgate?” 

“Anywhere,” you breathe. 

“It’s been months,” croaks Alexia, your hand pressed against her stomach as you slowly lean into the feeling only she can give you. “Months.” 

You kiss her. Time folds in on itself, and you are transported back to when every touch was electric; when nothing was tainted. The pain of the past months, the heartbreak, momentarily fades into insignificance as you lose yourself in Alexia’s warmth.

Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, afraid that this moment might slip away too soon. The taste of wine lingers on your lips, and she craves the softness of them – she has been craving them since July.

“Well, now it has only been seconds,” you whisper as you pull away. 

With a sense of urgency, she chases your mouth once more, strong arms pulling you on top of her, manipulating your body against her with no hint of uncertainty. 

Alexia knows you well.

Her touch lacks curiosity and exploration. Her hands are experienced and confident in their movements, and she has hoisted you up and brought you to your bedroom without needing to have been told that this is what you want. 

“Is this what you want?” she asks anyway. 

“Please.” 

And she really doesn’t make you beg. 

Your hands roam her body with a primal hunger, instinctive touches to the most sensitive parts of her, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Her back is tense, muscles flexing as she pushes your clothes off your skin, her own following their path soon after. 

Parted legs and soft moans. 

She slots herself between your thighs. 

Her tongue is determined, fierce. Sloppier because she is drunk, but, then again, so are you. 

Your fingers repay the favour. 

“More,” you request just as she pulls away. 

“Is it in the same place?” 

You nod, panting.

There is a playful glint in Alexia’s eyes as she finds the strap just where she left it. As she secures it in place, you wipe the sweat from your brow, forcing your mind into the dirtiest of thoughts to ward off the building regret.

The room is dimly lit, and the air heavy with desire. Your heartbeat pulses in the silence, the thrum of the organ drums that guide Alexia’s slow, deliberate steps back towards the bed, kneeling atop the scrunched sheets. 

She positions herself between your legs once more, and you can feel the heat of her body radiating against your skin. She leans in closer, her breath hot against your neck, sending shivers of anticipation shuddering down your spine. 

With trembling hands, you reach out, nails digging into tanned, taut skin. You pull her closer to you, urging her to take whatever she wants. 

You want her to have you. You want her to make it hurt less. 

As Alexia presses inside, a jolt of pleasure courses through your body. You cry out, the sound igniting a blazing inferno within her that grows hotter the moment you ask her to move. Feverishly, her hands move over your chest, finding purchase on your breasts with a dormant possessiveness as her hips begin to drive the strap in deeper. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as you surrender to the overwhelming sensation, encompassed by someone so divine that you begin to separate yourself from all things wrong with this situation. The headboard thuds against the bedroom wall as she pounds her thrusts into a rhythm, and you shut your eyes as you quietly ask her to kiss you.

Tears cascade down your cheeks, but you do not know to whom they belong. Her tongue smothers your moans, and her hips begin to snap into yours more urgently, with more desperation. The pressure builds inside of you, and you feel as though you might explode. 

You feel as though this is the end, and you are glad that here is where your misery terminates. 

You’re glad, you’re really glad. 

Your back arches, your chests pressing together, large hands holding you close to her. 

And then it all comes crashing down. 

Everything. 

You wipe your eyes once the orgasmic bliss subsides, seizing your wine haze as the tide goes out and destroying the blindfold that had deprived you of seeing things straight. Right now, with the pleasant ache between your legs, you can’t quite bring yourself to regret it, but you know you will. You haven’t forgiven her; you’re not sure that it is possible. 

“You can shower, but you can’t stay here.” 

…

Nico knows that he is special. He is lucky, and he is loved, and he gets to go to a very nice school that Mateo (his ‘cousin’) claims is fancy. 

He likes his teacher. She reminds him of someone he once knew – you have suggested the nursery helpers back when he lived in London. He is not sure if you are right, but he doesn’t remember what London was like so he tries not to think too hard about it. 

Nico’s friends, like Pau who is sitting beside him, all think it is really cool that he can speak English. Pau says she hears his mother on the radio sometimes, but Nico hasn’t yet grasped the concept of fame past the annoying camera flashes and big, sold-out stadiums. He dislikes fame as he knows it, anyway, because the cameras hurt his eyes and the stadiums are so loud that he has to wear ear-defenders that squeeze his skull a bit too much. 

“My mum is from Bilbao. My dad is from Barcelona,” states Paula as she swipes a crayon over the sheet of paper her drawing is on. Green wax slowly stains the white to form ‘grass’. Everyone is drawing their family today, although Nico hasn’t yet started, waiting for his teacher to circle their table so that he can ask for another piece of paper. “And this,” Paula carries on, squiggling brown hair onto a smaller version of the stick-figure father, “is Ander, my big brother.” 

“Who is that?” Nico asks, pointing at the fifth figure on the page, guessing that the fourth and Pau-sized person is, in fact, Pau. 

“My sister! She’s called Nerea, and she plays basketball.” Pau promptly makes an orange circle the size of Nerea’s head, which floats in the air between her and her sister. “My mum says Nere is going to be a lesbian, but I don’t know what that means.” 

“My mums are lesbian!” he blurts out, excited enough to garner the attention of his teacher. When she appears, he grins at her sweetly; the kind of smile that has melted many hearts, though Nico is unaware of how many people know he exists. “More paper, please.” 

“Nico, you haven’t even tried with your first one.”

She isn’t harsh at all, but he has slowly learnt to stop asking follow-up questions. Six months of exasperated ‘I don’t know, Nicolau’s has taught him that. 

He shrugs. “Okay.”

He learnt what a shrug was the other day, when Mapi told him off for doing it to her. (“Don’t shrug your shoulders at me, Nicolau Putellas!” she had chided playfully. “All I asked was which of your mamas’ houses we need to go to.”)

“Nico, what’s ‘lesbian’?” 

“Mama says football is lesbian. Basketball might be lesbian! That’s why your sister is lesbian.” 

“My mum says that lesbians kiss girls.” 

“Mama kisses girls! And Mami. And they used to kiss each other but now they don’t speak and me and my sister swap houses.” Nico begins drawing it out for Paula when she peers at him, befuddled. “Here is Mama’s.” A big square, a glamorous-looking woman inside of the blue shape; a stick with a circle on the end of it; the notes he sees in his piano music floating in the air. “And…” he says, tongue sticking out as he concentrates on the opposite half of the page, “here is Mami’s.” 

He draws a football. He picks up the red crayon too, and uses both the blau and the grana simultaneously. “Mami plays football for Barça.” He draws two lines on Alexia’s t-shirt. 11. “Mami made me get 11 at football.” Nico had originally worn the 10, but then the affair had come to light and Alexia was suddenly deep in conversation with his coach and apologising to the boy Nico then had to swap shirts with. 

Then, he drops the crayons in his hand and searches for the stack near Paula. He selects the purple one, gripping it tightly, his friend still listening to him with intrigue. 

“This is me and Lela.” Two stick figures are drawn in the middle of the page; the middle ground between each of the squares. 

Nico sometimes feels stuck between it all. 

When Mami got very sad, he and Elena went to stay with Mapi and Ingrid for a few nights. He held his little sister’s hand as much as he could. He always tries to remind her that he is right there with her. 

Mami once told him that it was his turn to protect Elena. Nico hasn’t forgotten that. 

“I keep Lela safe.” He has encouraged her, slightly selfishly, to call him ‘skipper’, which he has picked up from the Lionesses. Luckily, Alexia has not told him off for it because she doesn’t know what it means. “Lela is my little sister. She is a baby. She doesn’t remember what it was like when Mama and Mami loved each other, but I do.” 

The purple crayon scrapes on the page as he presses it into the white, colour rubbing out in the shape of a heart. “Lela and I are together tot el temps. Mami tries to take me from her sometimes, but I don’t let her.” 

His story – and ability to make Paula pay attention for longer than ten seconds – has already attracted the quiet attention of his teacher, but she moves closer as Nico continues. The four-year-old leaves out how Alexia is usually inviting him to training with her. Since Elena has yet to show any interest in football, it remains her and Nico’s special thing, and, of course, his mother misses him when it is not her turn. 

You benevolently give your permission if you have no prior plans. It is upsetting that the only hindrance to extra time spent together is the little boy who once worshipped Alexia Putellas like a god. 

“Nico, why did you want two pages?” asks Paula curiously, assuming he is finished now that his whole family is displayed on the piece of paper. 

He frowns. “Because now I have to do this.” And with that, he tears the sheet in half. 

Paula’s mouth drops open in surprise, as does his teacher’s. 

“What’s wrong?” comes a mature voice, a hand placed on his shoulder just like it is when the other children in his class cry. Nico doesn’t cry. He is strong and brave, like a little soldier. “Did you not like your drawing?” 

“No,” he replies neutrally, “half can live with Mama, and half can live with Mami.” 

“But now you are ripped down the middle.” 

He traces the jagged edges of the halves of his life. One of his legs is on your side, the other on Alexia’s. 

“I know, but it’s okay. I don’t cry.” 

Alexia does, though, when his teacher talks to her that afternoon. 

…

“I slept with Alexia,” you confess quietly, comforted by the sound-proofing of Anya’s home-studio. She asked for help with her album; your success might be contagious, she insists. “Last week, when Nico had that recital.” You clutch your mug protectively, as if she will strip you of the right to drink your tea to punish you for your crime. 

Anya is unsure what you would like her to say. You search her face for anger, but do not find it. 

“If Gio were here, she’d probably slap you.” 

You snort, almost spilling hot liquid all over yourself. “You two are like my mothers, and you’re the nicer one by far.” 

“God, you are such an idiot.” 

“And a slag.” She waits for your next admission with excitement. “I also slept with Leah Williamson.” 

“Do you think you and Alexia are just destined for polyamory?” Her amusement is quite pleasant, but one thing wasn’t dulled by the wine that night and you have been dying to tell someone about it.

Your knee bounces up and down as you gear up for it, having thought it through 

“I think we are destined for each other.” 

Song-writing be damned, Anya fully removes her headphones, placing the equipment beside her keyboard before letting out a small, exasperated laugh. “You are in love with Alexia again,” comes her accusation, with no real malice behind it. 

“I never stopped being in love with Alexia. She just made it a lot harder to love her.” 

Is that an understatement? 

“Hey,” you say with sudden energy, sitting upright and grasping at your phone, tea wobbling over the lip of the mug and running down your wrist. “Should we go to Bali in August?” 

…

You avoid both of your footballers right until the World Cup camps roll around. 

Leah doesn’t get to go, subjected to the ACL curse. Alexia’s call-up is not necessarily unexpected, but you do find yourself wondering how many more betrayals her friendship with Mapi León can handle. (Mapi is on her last straw, but she knows her friend really needed the win after her hellish year. The Champion’s League was never going to sate Alexia’s hunger to be the best at football – possibly an overcompensation for her terrible relationship skills.)

Your children, this time, are delivered to the park by their very own mother. Alexia beats Leah in this sense, because she has a valid excuse to see you without confessing feelings you do not want to hear. 

“I have something for you,” she says just after she has finished her goodbyes, pressing a small box into your hands. Her voice is filled with nerves and you are intrigued, hating yourself for being so. “Don’t open it until you get back home.” Her eyes meet yours for a moment. I’m sorry, they seem to say. “Alright, have fun in Bali, and don’t forget that I legally have custody but I am not going to go to court to battle you for it as long as you put them in Spain kits for Spain matches.” 

She could, if she wanted to be difficult, have you send Nico and Elena to New Zealand during her weeks. It would be very unreasonable, but the contract your lawyers drew up still stands. 

“They were delivered yesterday. I think it’s going to be a struggle to convince them to put on the worst kit ever.” You still don’t forgive Alexia for cheating on you, but there has come a point where acceptance replaces the animosity. Nico’s teacher has been the catalyst in this step forward. The developmental pamphlets she had thrust in your faces were enough for the two of you to come to a mutual agreement of increased civility (that maybe, maybe was only made possible by the fact that you have very recent memories of each other’s orgasms). “But, yes, I agree to your terms. Don’t forget that his favourite player is Alessia Russo, however.” 

“He is in a phase where I am ‘uncool’! It’ll pass.” 

“If you say so, Alexia.” 

“Anyway,” she carries on, rolling her eyes. “Open it when you get home.” She… presses a kiss to your cheek? “I’m so sorry, mi amor.” 

You blink back your surprise, but she is gone before you can reply. 

The small, neatly-wrapped box sits in the palm of your hand, the corners edging off your skin and sticking out as you stare at it. Nico and Elena continue their (unsupervised) playing, but you manage to call out a warning for ‘five more minutes and then we’ve got to pack’ while you examine Alexia’s gift.

Is this how Pandora felt? 

If you open it, what will be unleashed?

Alexia, before now, hasn’t actively pursued your forgiveness. She has given you the time and the space you had broken-heartedly requested, nodding as you communicated your wishes to her through someone else, never before able to confront the face that tore up your life before your eyes. 

There was a time when all you ever wanted to do was talk to her, but she tried to forget about that when she realised the extent at which you went to avoid an interaction. When she had understood your desperation to be left alone fully, she began to breathe. The step backwards gave her room to examine just how royally she had fucked it all. 

She now feels a bit more capable of tackling the clean-up, working with a much clearer mind. Everyone is relieved that she hasn’t killed herself, or, at least, that she is keeping those thoughts at bay. 

You realise that she has bought you a ring, and regardless of whether you wear it or not, she wants to tell you that she is sorry.

...

IT'S NOT OVER YET! THIS WILL TAKE YOU TO THE SECOND HALF

[sturnlova]

Busy ( M.S )

(Matt Sturniolo x Female reader)

( Warning : Smut, F receiving, new to writing, not proof read all the way, pet names, fluff, angst, i don’t know what else 😭 )

Matt : Blue

Y/N : Pink

Chris : Orange

Nick : Purple

( Word count : 900)

——————————————————

Y/N POV:

It had been a whole week, 7 days, 168 hours since Matt has been busy with work and ignoring me. Every time i confronted him Matt would always tell me that everything was well and that he was just tired and wanted to go to sleep. I became so enraged with him that I even questioned Chris and Nick, his own fucking brothers, why he was acting so "busy." All they said was that work has been difficult, Matt will get the entire day off on Friday, which is tomorrow. I had no idea that information even existed.

-

After taking off their shoes and entering the kitchen to meet me, Matt, Nick, and Chris came via the front door. I ignored Matt and waved to Chris and Nick, striking up a conversation with them. I truly couldn't talk to Matt, even though I hated ignoring him.

"Y/N, why are you ignoring me? What's wrong?" exclaimed Matt. I could feel the rage building inside of me; I was on the verge of losing it. “Why do I ignore you? WHY DO YOU DISRESPECT ME? Matt, I haven't spent more than ten minutes with you in the entire week.” Matt attempted to engage, but I interrupted him. “You don't even understand that I've asked your brothers why. I'm sorry, but you don't even realize how much I'm desperate for you. Why do you no longer give a damn? I didn't start dating this person at all. What happened Matt.” i spoke with tears now falling from my eyes. Chris spoke up, "Me and Nick are going to go for a walk, we will be back later.” “ Yeah” as they continued to move toward the front for.

“ Baby “ he knew i loved when he called me baby. “ I never want to see you cry over me. You are aware of my work schedule, but I should do a better job of juggling it with my personal life. Im sorry for being so busy; I really am. I simply got really wrapped up in my own thoughts, and I know it's not an excuse, so I had no idea that it upset you this much. I apologize. Let me make it up to you.”

-

He grabbed me the waist and patted me by the thighs to jump and wrap my legs around his waist. As i did what i was told he walked us to his room closing the door and ensuring he locked it. He laid me on my bed on top of his silk covers, as i laid on my back he slowly took off my deinem shorts and black Lacey thong, he took of my ( his ) hoodie leaving me fully naked.

He pulled me closer to the edge of the bed as he kneeled on floor face to face with my glistening wet pussy waiting to get touched. He kissed my clit, then slowly started licking a strip up and down my pussy. “ Gonna make you feel so good princess, just lay there and look pretty.” the dirty talk could’ve just made cum there on the spot.

Soon as Matt’s tongue touched you an unsteady breath flew from your lips, your eyes squeezed closed due to the amount of pleasure you felt. He licked from your leaking hole to your clit once again,tongue flat to taste as much of you as possible. he repeated his actions multiple times, Matt moaned at the taste of you, he was pussy drunk at this point. “ You enjoying it so far?” i breathed heavy and moaned “ yes i am baby, feels so good” i’m so close to finishing at this point, he always worked magic with his tongue.

My hips were bucking of the bed bringing my lips closer to his. He started using his tongue and fingers adding the insane amount of pleasure i was already feeling. I tugged on my bed sheets and when i did that he took his fingers out of me and used his hands to guide my hands to his hair. I quickly grabbed his hair and gently tugged.

He started going insanely fast which made me lose it, he instructed me to grab my boobs and play with them, who was i to deny it. “ fuck Matt i’m so close, can i cum, please” he nodded his head against me. The knot in my stomach snapped and i finished all of his fingers and face.

Matt slowly pulled his fingers out of me and sucked them clean. “ are you ok? you did so good sweetheart” i nodded my head in response to tired to move or speak. Matt walked to get a hand towel to clean his face and me. Not too long after we had a shower and changed clothes to walk downstairs to end the night with a movie.

-

As we sat on the couch Chris and Matt walked in asking if we were ok i responded back with “ more than ok “ Matt giggled at me words and brought his attention back to the movie.

[yeokii]

# arguments w enha hyung line !! — part two (maknae line ver)

₊﹒ wc! 0.9k

₊﹒warnings! fighting, angst

₊﹒note! ty to my dookie @redm4ri for helping me with the members (im crying) luv ya my dooks

# lee heeseung

"It's not what you think," Heeseung pleaded, irritation visible on his face.

In his head, he thought he was right. But, boy, was he off. Both you and he went to a gathering, but he had ignored you the entire day and spent time with his best friend. You trusted Heeseung with your entire heart, and seeing him do this broke your heart into little pieces.

"She came back from the states two days ago, yn," He tried to reason, "I haven't seen her in four years, for fuck's sake."

"That is no excuse for you to ignore me, Hee," you sternly said.

"God, yn! Why can't you get it in your fucking brain? She and I are fucking friends!" He scoffed, frustrated as he brushed his hair back with his hands.

"Do you think I'm stupid? She looked like she wanted to kiss you! Are you kidding me?" It was your turn to scoff.

The tension thickened as hateful words spewed from each side.

"God, yn, why are you overreacting?" He asked, annoyed. "Stop being a fucking child; she's like a sister to me."

"Do you realize she spent more time with me? Of course, I'd miss her."

"Alright, if you miss her that much, feel free to go to her. I don't give two fucks anymore." And with that, you took your jacket once again and left the apartment.

₊﹒other members under the cut !!

# park jongseong

11:34.

The clock read.

He wasn't home yet.

Your worry grew more with every minute passing. The fact that Jay wouldn't pick up the thousands of your calls. You were a nervous wreck. You couldn't sleep at all. He was never late.

The door opened, finally.

In came a tired jay, his eyes worn out and his hair all ruffled up, his tie loose.

He took one look at you and his eyes automatically rolled.

"What the fuck Jay?" You spoke.

"God, please." He said. "Not now, yn. Im too fucking tired to hear your lectures."

"Jay?" You were astonished by his behaviour. He never spoke like this which took you off guard.

"Why are you speaking like that to me?" You asked, your heart heavy. "I was so worried about you, I called you a hundred times."

"God, I just don't wanna deal with this right now. I had a long day at work. " He massaged his temples as he started to head for the bedroom.

"You could've told me you were coming late."

"Stop being a fucking baby and stop being clingy. I'm a grown ass man. Your not my fucking mother."

You had nothing left to say. You gave him a stern look as your worried expression vanished. You headed to the bedroom and slammed the door not wanting to hear anymore out of your so called boyfriend's mouth.

# sim jaeyun

"Baby, can you please tell me what's wrong?" Your boyfriend pleaded due to the silent treatment you were giving.

You ignored him as usual, continuing to do the dishes.

"I would know whats wrong if you would tell me about it." His eyes holding a desperate plea.

You looked at him with disbelief written all over your face.

"How could you forget Jake?" You asked him, your voice sounding like a slight whisper.

"What?" He uttered with confusion.

"I waited for you all day last night. How could you forget?" You held back tears that threatened to spill out of your eyes.

"Forget what baby?" His eyes searched for some sort of answer from your face.

"Our anniversary Jake."

His eyes widened, as a wave of shock washed over him.

"I'm so sorry baby, It must've slipped out of my mind I-"

"It was raining Jake. I couldn't go outside because it was raining. I had to sit there at our date waiting for you to come. I had to go back home in the rain, Jake." You let out a sob. The familiar emotion of humility emerging over you.

"Yn, I'll make it up to you. It's not a big deal."

"It is, you asshole." You looked at him, tears leaving your eyes nonstop and you left the kitchen.

# park sunghoon

"Hoon please stop." You let out a mutter to your boyfriend, slightly tugging onto his hoodie.

You both were out with your friends and you and Sunghoon were having a good time until him and your friends started joking a little too much about you that made you uncomfortable.

"What? We're just having fun." He shrugged it off, laughing.

"No Hoon. I don't feel comfortable." A rush of insecurity roamed through you.

You tugged onto Sunghoon more which showed a bit of irritation on his face.

"God yn, learn how to take a joke." He said, a frown showing on his face.

"Please, I don't like when you talk about me like that infront of my friends."

"It's just a joke, babe."

"It's not Hoon." You sternly said.

"God! Stop being a fucking baby!" He yelled at you infront of your friends.

"Oh my god! Did yn's boyfriend just yell at her? Yikes.." One of your friends told the girl next to her.

You looked around and then back at Sunghoon. Shame washed all over you. You felt so humiliated, tears started to fall out of your eyes. Everyone's eyes were on you. You felt so isolated and outnumbered.

"I'm leaving." You told Sunghoon and with that you left.

perm taglist!! @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom

[heartssatoru]

Hey! I love your HCs so far! If you do smut could you do JJK men wanting to have sex or are horny and how they go about asking you/initiating it? (Gojo, Megumi, Sukuna, and Itadori)

Yes of course! I know a lot of my readers request fluff so if you don't like smut im so sorry😭

Characters: gojo, megumi, sukuna, itadori

Warnings: smut smut smut!! Afab reader

I have a few request im working on, to all the others that requested! :)

Gojo

In public:

Starts off flirty but then becomes needy cause he's extremely horny

At a date

Slips up and tells you a dirty joke by accident. And does that little giggle

It maybe depends, because there's times where he thinks he can hold it but can't

Most of the time he hints it. If you don't get it then he'll say it shamelessly

Doesn't care if its in public or not. He just wants relief.

He kinda does care😭 but doesn't at the same time.

Bathroom, alley way, really whatever. Tries to make sure no ones really there though

Someone spots you two? Oh shit let him finish atleast

Tells you to just relax but it's extremely hard when his cock is pounding into you

If your hiding your moans then he'll make you either way. Cause that's just offensive to him

Will deny your organsm if you hide them too. So lesson learned

Megumi:

At home:

Tries to ignore it. But its too much to even ignore, wouldn't be surprised if you could notice

Prefers to hint because he feels embarrassed. No matter how much you tell him he doesn't need too.

You already know because that's always how he gets when he's horny

Doesn't want to risk being caught. And he always makes that clear.

Always at home no matter what. He can wait, maybe..

Excusing that, he skilled with his fingers, and always uses his fingers to prep you

He doesn't want to cause you pain. Really just pleasure for both of you.

Will be a little hard or deny your organsm if he's having a bad day. But still will let you cum

By the time he's done you guys will be fast asleep, but always makes sure you fall asleep first.

Sukuna

anywhere, literally doesn't care:

Will straight up tell you. Maybe if you don't take so long he'll actually be nice to you.

1% chance of that. But its better then nothing!

Will fuck you anywhere. Unlike gojo, he has nothing to worry about

Doesn't even care if anyone sees. They'll simply see how much of a slut you are for his cock

Said by him of course

Does it for his own pleasure, if he's feeling nice he'll let you cum

Also if you try and touch yourself then thats another reason why he shouldn't.

Abuses your poor cunt, especially with his size

Rough, but knows your limits. Maybe goes aganist them every one in awhile to see your fucked face

Cause it drives him near the edge even more.

Itadori

Feels guilty each time so he always tries to go on without anything

However if he's desperate will beg you to let him fuck you

Makes sure your comfortable and everything. Sweet as hell

But just because of that dont expect to not be teased

Will always let you cum though, unlike the others, besides megumi

Goes gentle, unless you want it hard he can do that. Just doesn't want to hurt you

Asks every once in awhile just to make sure your comfortable and everything

No matter how tired he is, will still try to clean you up afterwards

Gives you the best care. Would feel guilty once again, if he didn't

[eras-mus]

HIII I HAD A THOIGHT THAT HAS BEEN KILLING MY MIND AND I NEED TO TELL IT TO SOMEONE OTHERWISE IM GNA EXPLODE

get this . everyone chilling at ramshackle dorm doing their own thing, yuu (and grimm by extension), ace and deuce sitting by the table talking about whatever crosses their mind

Eventually the conversation escalates to birthdays and holidays and ace asks how old Yuu is. Azul interjects with saying Yuu's age from the contract they signed a few months ago, but then Yuu pipes up and tells them that they're one year older than that.

Theres a small moment of confusion until it dawns onto Deuce that Yuy's birthday was a month or two ago and they never spoke a peep about it. Not even to grimm!! And when asked, Yuy makes an excuse like "that was when __ was kind of close to overblotting and I didn't want to make it about me because that'd be so nitpicky—"

It was based off an audio i heard and idk if i want to write it into a short drabble for myself i probably cant since im only on book 2 ueue). But like. its a fun prompt methinks. what would all of them do when they find out Yuu deliberately didn't say a thing about their birthday

🎉

THAT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY???

★Reader is Yuu and is 17 years old

★gender neutral

★takes place after the third book

Sorry it's short, hope you like it!

-

"Can we start yet!" Ace complained, head slamming onto the table.

"I told you we're waiting on a couple more people." The perfect told him "I invited Kalim and Azul to join us since Sebek and Jack couldn't make it"

Tonight was the Ramshackle dorms weekly game night, normally it was just the freshmen but Sebek said that Malleus 'needs' his protection and Jack was just to tired from Spell Drive practice.

"They outta hurry up" Epel started, country accent slightly showing through "don't they know it's rude to be late."

A awkward silence fell over the dorm for a moment before a knock echoes through the dorm.

When y/n opened the dorm they were greeted with a cheerful smile and a hug.

"Thank you so much for inviting me!" Kalim smiled "I hope you don't mind that I brought Jamil, I also brought food, well Jamil did, he made it!"

Y/n blinked for a moment, taking in all the words one guy manged to say so fast. They looked over Kalim's shoulder just in time to see Jamil face plant.

"Thank you for the food Jamil" They smiled, giving him a wave.

"If was the least I could do perfect" he stated, not returning the wave.

Luckily Azul showed up before y/n could shut the door.

Just a few minutes later the group was playing some sort of trivia card game where they would either have to answer a question about someone else playing, a question about themselves, or just a random fact. If they got it wrong the next person would answer the same card, whoever got the most questions right won.

"Who is the most followed person in Magi Cam?" Epel read, "That's easy, Neige"

He revealed the answer to show it was correct.

"Of course you would get that one right" Ace complained "Vil never stops going on about it"

Every one just ignoring him looked over at Deuce, who was next to pick a card.

"How old is the person sitting to your right?" He looked over at y/n. "I'm not sure...18?"

They just shook their head.

"I know this one" Azul butted in, ready to take another point "Our contract from a while ago said that they were 16."

One again y/n shook their head. "I just turn 17 last month"

The room went silent for what seemed like forever.

"WE MISSED YOUR BIRTHDAY!" They all shouted in union.

"Riddle is going to have a heart attack when he finds out" Deuce commented, Ace nodding in agreement.

"You should've said something, we could've had a huge party" Kalim whined.

Y/n scratch the back of their head, "It's not big deal, it was right after one of the overblots, plus where I'm from birthdays aren't that big of a deal."

"Jamil we need to plan a party right now" Kalim said, getting up from his seat.

"We have to too" Ace said "Or get Trey and Riddle to do it for us"

Soon everyone had said something similar and got up and left leaving a confused Ramshackle perfect.

[kel-lance]

Team Bonding: JJK students x reader x sukuna Part 1

- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more.

- Premise: Characters are (18+) (Reader is 21) Jujutsu College au where things are the same but they found yuuji/He ate the finger at 18/+ the start of college.

- Yuuji “came back” after two months of “being dead” and you’re in charge of the training for today for the kyoto sister event.

- Sukuna switches with yuuji in this and chaos ensues :/

Edit: I reread this a month later and guys oh my god. i wrote these time patches of time, right after hitting the rig, and then blacking out after a few paragraphs im sorry ill actually write this time.

You were coming back from a mission that took about 2 weeks due to traveling and tracking down a spirit as the higher ups were testing your Light Manipulation. You know it was hard for everyone the death of one of the freshmen, now you look after Nobara with Megumi. 

You’re the only 3rd year and they all knew you loved your pride. Something about being the “oldest” (since the seniors are all granted weekly missions.), the authority that just made looking up at them, was just an excuse to point your nose up high, and only got depressed for a /day/ when you found out Kamo was 5 days older than you. 

You’re like an older sister or mom to them, with a few exceptions. The days were leading up to the Kyoto sisterhood school match, while everyone was meeting up to train, Gojo introduces Yuuji back to everyone. 

You’re all shocked to say the least. Gojo was acting normally the whole time, that bastard. “(Y/n)’s in charge of sparring today. I’ll come back later with Shoko in case Yuta’s too tired.” He teased at his baby cousin before he left. He was probably referencing to take it easy pn yuta, he probably beat his ass showing him a new technique.  

You ignored him yet again and started to pair everyone up. “Nobara and Yuta, Panda and Maki, Toge and Megumi,” leaving you with Yuuji. “We’ll take it slow zombie.” 

- Into the match you cursed, “Shit- he’s so durable.” But you loved that. You threw yourself back and used your fingers to catch and push yourself away from Yuuji’s next punch. “He’s a close range fighter, too.” You feel like you found your match in terms of adaptability. 

You fix your stance, both legs balances one in front of the other, knees bend, your body lowers and fingers and knees bent, ready at any time to change from offense to defense. You find his eyes again and don’t dare break contact as he’s fast. Faster than you, a blink could be worse than a misstep.

This was new as you always held yourself back from seriously harming your classmates. That pride doesn’t come from nowhere. Your favorite sparring partner is Todo, because he can get close and handle/not hold back punches. 

It felt like you were getting beaten with respect, not like what I want to do to my underclassmen. What good would they learn from losing a time from sitting in the infirmary so often? But this was different.

You felt like you were fighting Maki on drugs, or with cursed energy, and was face to face to Yuuji, as he pinned you down. He was almost like Todo, but you couldn’t read him since you just met.

“Where’s your pride now?” He had enough of your poking and prodding. No warm welcome, not even a nice reaction from his friends. But he knew it was serious to you, so out of respect, he’ll follow suite. He’ll show off what he learned in his training with Gojo. 

“Shut up Cannibal Corpse.” You teased back, smashing your forehead into the T of his face, hoping he’d be able to take it. 

He backs and stands up, hand covering his face. He stopped in a way to let you know he needed a second. Blood coming from his nose? Or his mouth?

“Oh shit, are you okay?” You stand up too, turning to yell for your medic. “Yuu-“ You’re thrown back by the scruff of your collar landing on your shoulder, butt and hands, scratching them. 

“Woah, dude, look I’m sorry,” You huff, rubbing your scraped skin as you slowly stood again. “I thought you could handle it.” You tried to ease the tension, coming close to him to see if he was alright.

He doesn’t look at you, but you feel an energy forming around him. You didn’t know what this could be, his cursed energy? Why does it feel so suffocating? 

“(Y/N)!” Megumi tries to get his shikigami to get you out of his proximity but they were slaughtered in a a blink of an eye. 

“What the hell was going on, where is the enemy?” You quickly looked up and down, about to grab Yuuji and run. 

But your face was cupped so hard your chin could’ve snapped. Pinkie was looking down at you with cold eyes. Why were you letting this happen? You were in charge, you’re the oldest. You don’t resist but give a look of what the fuck back to him. 

“Sukuna! Let her Go!” Megumi screamed. The other students semi surrounding you both.

“She’s so fun, though.” Yuuji cocks a smile, your brain still trying to make sense of what’s happening and who was really in danger here. You glare harder at him, knowing if you struggled, he would like it, and that it was cause you more pain. You couldn’t freak them out anymore, you’ve gotta get this under control. 

“Tell you what, since /I’m/ the oldest,” He gave your cheeks a squeeze. “I’ll take over this bonding sparring whatever ur stupid sensei said. Putting a woman in charge… ha! I’ll show you a type of bond you all can share.”

He tears off the front of your shirt, holding your body closer, but you still say nothing but feel hate for him. Trying to humiliate you in front of your classmates, like you’re not in your sports bra most of the time. It didn’t bother you that you were semi exposed, you knew you looked good, but what was the reason?

Everyone started to yell and tell him to stop, ignoring the embarrassing sight Sukuna tried to use. Of course they didn’t care about your body, they had to figure out a way to separate you both carefully. You turn to face your classmates.

“It’s okay guys, if he wanted me dead he would’ve killed me by now.” You shoot your eyes back and look glare into Sukuna’s eyes, not the same bright, round eyes you first saw before anything else. You look harder.

“Yuuji’s still in there somewhere.”

Sukuna laughs. “You guys misunderstand. I said I’m in charge,” His other arm that was holding your torso back starts to move down the curve of your body, stopping at your outer thigh and squeezing roughly. “Todays lesson is, endurance. This one here,” He holds you up by your neck, as you’re trying to use your upper body strength up get higher, to get some air but his wrists alone are strong enough for him to pick u up easily. “will stomach all I will give her.” 

He brings you back down, coughing for air as licks a tear from your cheek. He reverts his eyes back to your helpless friends. “Your part now is to endure, all the way til the end, then my game can start.” 

You honestly couldn’t care what he was talking about, you could take whatever ridiculous match he has set up but to involve your mates? it wasn’t a sense of pride anymore but of respect of your friends. You just met this prick, the only thing stopping you from beating his ass to hell is that you saw their reaction about his supposed death. You didn’t want to be the real reason this time, well could you?

If worse comes to worst, you should be fine. You could take a beating, you had no problem being fought by a special grade curses and even showing off before Gojo gets here. Once you get out of his grip you can get everyone to attack. You’re the only thing in the way though you wouldn’t mind being taken with him if it comes to it. how heroic would that date be.

“Interrupt at all, even think about it, and I will end them, you, then anyone else I can find after.” He says to no-one. The parasite everyone was so on edge about needed a moment to breathe?

He huffs for a second, you thought there was a light in his eyes as he tried to let you go. You soften your look when- “Ah ah ah.” Sukuna takes over again, pinning you back to him, his other hand clapping around your neck. “I said I’d end them, and then you all.” He repeats to Yuuji. “Just shut up, watch, and then I’ll go away. It’s so boring being cooped up in this brat all day.” In all this, Yuuji’s trying to fight back? He can see this? Was anyone going to tell you what the fuck was going on. “Id rather be in this one instead.” 

You felt the energies around you shrink down, though, agitated. It seems they knew about what was happening to Yuuji and seeing them scared like this wasn’t really a good sign for you. They can get scared of course, but all of them? Together like this? This was not how you wanted to traumatize them, what would they learn other than powerlessness?

“Let go already, you’ll leave a mark on my neck.” You choked out. 

“You don’t have the brains to worry about that after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes at him earning a slap. You fell the ground shake and your friends winced at the sound. “Fuck-“ You shot up from the ground holding your steering hot cheek, right before he kicks you back down, leaving you sprawled and confused at the assault. 

You haven’t been hit like that in years. Tears weld up in your eyes and you choke on a memory that’s created this boastful monster.

Sukuna frowned, “I thought you were tougher than that. Maybe this won’t be as fun as I thought. I knew I should’ve started with the short girl over there.” 

You spit at him. “Don’t touch her, I’ll fucking kill you.” You blink to clear your vision and suppress the overwhelming memory. You glare at him before finding Nobara’s eyes. If they were 2+ years younger than you, you’d joke that they’re just a kid, but Nobi, your new baby sister,Like hell you’d let anyone make her feel how you felt. She was tough like you, even tougher you thought, because of how different you were, but still ended up similar.

“Tell me have any of you tried her out yet?” 

You could only look out to see your friends gritting their teeth and weapons. Panda speaks up, “She’s our best fighter.” Hoping to lead away from this devious situation. You’ve already fought them all, and won. Is kuna trying to piss you off more? You ignore his assaults, the unfamiliar hands now controlling you. 

“That’s just perfect.” He pulls your hips to connect to his, and your heart stops. You can feel it.

You actually freeze this time. Is he actually going to do it? You’d rather be beaten half to death or even to death, but how hard he was behind you, it birthed a black hole in your stomach. 

Your body goes limp, unconsciously submitting to him, your eyes fall, not being able to look at anyone else. Will he be quick, will they fight for me? Is this what he really wants? Or is this just the start? 

He picks you up and drops you to your knees painfully, still holding onto your collar. “Don’t try to run unless u want all their heads stringed together.” He says to you. 

Everyone else watches, clutching each other or their weapons tighter, trying to think of a way, when they can go in, or if they even see when Gojo was coming back . 

Grabbing your chin and lifting it up, he looks down at you and smacks you again. Your ear is on fire. The strike of his finger felt like a whip onto the side of your face. He hits you again, then again, and again. 

You huff, picking yourself up slowly each time. If you didn’t, he’d step on your fingers, almost trying to grind the bones inside. 

Sukuna raises his hand as you stare down and with this one, he sends you to the feet of Toge, Yuta, and Panda. 

They look down at you, mixed feelings of guilt, anger, sorrow,. You speak to them through swelling cheeks, “Don’t worry you guys, I’ll be even stronger after this. Get ready cause next tim-”

Sukuna comes by and grabs you by the hair, dragging you to back to your original spot, tears and blood now messing up your face. 

“You look so stupid right now.” He sneers. “You should see yourself.”  At this point you were exhausted from holding yourself back from beating the shit out of him. 

“Everyone,” He raises his voice for an announcement. “take your phones out and take a picture from your favorite parts of the lesson, okay?” 

He tilts your head towards his, takes out Yuuji’’s phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of you both. *click*

[cupids-archives]

Can you do an Chill (busty if you like! Im kind of busty myself :P) who hides it on always using oversozed sweatshirt Female y/n that just talks with MK, who likely just met and talked Sun Wukong once when MK introduced him to her on Pigsy Noodles, and he just straight up went obsessed after that?

Srry if i requested in the wrong place that you indicated <33 plus, i love your work!

━━━━━━━━𖥔 ࣪ small fic ft. yandere! sun wukong ₊˚♱ ━━━━━ ₊˚♱ contains: obsessive behavior, small nsfw. ₊˚♱

🪽 ៹ ࣪ this was a bit rushed so lmk if you want a part two or a better/longer version <3 🪽 ៹ ࣪

you were being swarmed by the staff at pigsys shop, your hands tucked in your sweater while they ask you silly questions. “where are you from!! mei asks, uncomfortably close to your face, “and where did you meet mk??” tang says peeking over you, “you guys do know she’s not my girlfriend right…”

mk finally speaks up and you can feel the excitement in the room drop, some of them even looking dejected. the only person in the room who seems to light up at this, is the strange man sitting in the corner, he’s a celebrity so you tried to ignore him through your visit here but it’s almost hard as his follow you every time you get up or excuse yourself. soon most of the people in the shop spread out, starting to do their own things. leaving just you, mei, and mk, it was a little awkward at first but soon lightened up.

“i never thought that THE monkey king would be that weird.” you randomly say, still thinking about the awkward encounter. “he usually isn’t, I don’t know why he’s acting like that” he looks almost scared like he was worried about the guy. “I didn’t even think he would show up, to be honest, when you told me you were the monkey kid I thought you were just joking,” the conversation turns back to the happy one it once was. you guys continue talking about stupid stuff until you want to leave, you wish goodbye to your new friends and start to walk back home.

you can almost feel eyes on you on every step of the way, feeling observed and uncomfortable. you quicken the pace, you feel exposed even with having so many clothes on. you get back to your house safely, making sure to lock the doors. your head immediately hits the pillow, feeling tired, but your mind is happy after an successful day. “you look so adorable when your sleeping.” you immediately jump up looking around to see whoever just talked to you. the hair on your skin feels as if it’s rising and the paranoid feeling comes back again.

you convince yourself it’s just your imagination and start to drift off again, but you feel a cold hand to under your sweater, touching the sensitive skin around your breast. this time however you can’t move, you feel frozen to the spot, the only thing you can move is your eyes, looking up to see the monkey kid fondling you, looking down on you with such intensity like he’s been in love with you forever. you also notice your not in your room, somehow being transported to some weird magical place, one that you can’t help but call beautiful,

“I’m sorry for doing this so suddenly,” the king says, getting closer to kiss your soft lips, “I just couldn’t help myself.” he takes off your sweatshirt completely. immediately nestling between your breasts, “you should stop wearing those big shirts. you look so pretty all naked for me”

[ifimdreaming]

its not the same anymore

jack hughes x reader || angst

summary: basically a breakup 😶 

authors note: no happy ending. sorry im in a mood. 

word count: 0.5k

-

“just stop ignoring me!” jack yells out with tears welling in his eyes, after you had retreated to using the silent treatment, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of even a response from you.

you turn to walk away, sick and tired of hearing him make excuses about why he forgot you two had a date tonight.

“ill stop ignoring you when you stop choosing your fucking friends over me!” you call out, not bothering to turn around as you make your way to the bedroom. 

“oh grow up! You know thats not true! I choose you every fucking time!” jack yells back and you slam the bedroom door in frustration. 

you and jack had been having more and more fights lately. normally you would talk things out and argue towards a resolution, but tonight you got so fed up. 

it was jacks idea to plan a date tonight in the first place because you two had been spending so much time apart lately. 

you tried to blame your lack of connection lately on finally being out of the honeymoon phase of your relationship. Jack insisting it was just your busy schedules keeping you apart, but you knew it was more than that.

tonight, you texted him multiple times with no response, and you  had waited well over two hours for him to pick you up like he said he would.

- 

he had given you a moment alone in the room and you just sat on the floor with you back against the bed, crying into your hands. you didnt want to face this argument and everything it represented, already knowing what would come of it.

“open the door please, we're not done.” he knocks on the door before shaking the handle to no avail, because you had locked it. 

“actually i think we are done.” you say as you walk towards the door. You are both standing on either side of the door and you hear jack sigh in defeat.

“...what are you talking about?” 

You unlock the door and creak it open slowly as you look up to see a disheveled and saddened looking jack. His eyes were red and puffy as he just stared at his feet, not wanting you to see him crying.

reaching out your hand to hold his, he accepts it and tightly interlocks your fingers with his. He takes a step closer, resting his other hand against the door frame. 

“you dont take care of me anymore jack.” you say as his eyes shoot up to meet yours. 

Your eyes sting with tears and the lump in your throat grows just looking at him.

“i know i havent been there for you either. i-its just not the same anymore…” you say as your voice breaks and jack pulls you in, hugging you tightly as you cry into his chest. 

“Its all my fault. I -Im so sorry baby” jack whispers lowly in your ear and you can barely hear him over the sound of your cries. 

“p-please dont leave me-” you place a passionate kiss against jacks lips before he can continue, and he wraps his hands around your face, pressing his lips deeply against yours.

 you are so afraid of what comes next. losing him is the last thing you want.

“please...” he whispers again through kisses, as he strokes the back of your head. 

you just pull him in even tighter against you, not knowing if this is the last time…

[gizmo-writes]

hostage situation | spencer reid

warnings: being held as a hostage, guns, shooting, yelling, crying, miscarriages and bleeding

This wasn't how the night was supposed to go. You had it planned, a cute date night, maybe some movies, finish the night off with a surprise for spencer. But you should've known better, your plans never seemed to work out anymore. Always ruined by one thing or the other. And tonight it was ruined by the unsub Spencer and his team had been chasing.

You couldn't even cry at this point, tears all gone from the ride to the unsubs house. You were trapped in the trunk of a car, hands and ankles tied, unable to move. You cried and cried till the tears ran out. You were scared but part of you knew spencer would find you, he always did. He was always there, it was inevitable. So you knew he was coming, you just worried he might not be there in time. The trunk opened, revealing the unsub. He grabbed your arm and pulled you up. You groaned but let him drag you out of the car and onto the ground with a thud. You whimpered in pain but didn't protest. There was no point in crying, begging, pleading for him to stop. You had so much to live for yet you couldn't find it in you to beg. You felt that it was better not to, you didn't want to upset the unsub further.

He pulled you up, cutting the rope around your feet. He pulled the gun from its holster and held it to your back. "Walk," was all he said. You could see the house from a distance, you could see people inside. You didn't know where you were but you didn't dare ask. He walked, gun to your back and a hand on your shoulder. The two of you walked up to the door, "open the door," he said. You opened the door with a shaking hand. The unsub walked you into the house. That's when you saw them, the team. "Spence," was all you could say as you saw him. The team turned as the gun was put to your head. Derek and JJ were quick to draw their guns, directed at the unsub. "You wanted me, now you found me. Didn't you Spencer?" The man said. You hated the way he said Spencer's name, so full of hate.

"Just, p-put the gun down." Spencer said. It was like his life was flashing before his eyes. He'd seen this before, he'd lived this before. He couldn't let it end the same way. "Absolutely not!" The unsub yelled, his arm snug around your waist, squeezing you. "Listen, whatever you want.. I'll give you.. just don't hurt her." Spencer said, voice breaking. "Don't hurt her? Really? You're scared I'll hurt her, the only person I want to hurt is you," the unsub said. JJ and Derek were unwavering, guns aimed to kill. "Then take me, trade me for her," spencer said. The arm around your stomach tightened and you whimpered, it hurt, he had a death grip on you. "P-please stop, that hurts," you whispered, clawing at the unsubs arm. He didn't seem to care though, staring only at spencer.

"Why would I do that? She's the only reason I could get to you. All my messages, emails, you ignored them all! Why! Why did you do that!" He yelled. "I-im sorry, I don't use my email, I didn't know." Spencer said, trying to walk towards you but you were pulled back. "I'm tired of the excuses!" The unsub yelled. "Listen, why don't you put the gun down and I'll listen. We can talk, you can tell me everything you want to tell me." Spencer said. "No, no, you won't listen." The unsub shook his head. "I will, i promise." Spencer said but the unsub wasn't pleased.

You were sobbing down, the arm around your stomach was too tight and it started to scare you. You were clawing at his arm for dear life. Your stomach started to hurt and it scared you, terrified you. "P-please don't do this, please." You cried. "Shut up!" He screamed in your ear and you cried. "Put the gun down now!" Derek yelled. "You don't understand what it's like to be ignored, to be taken for granted. You ignored me Spencer, all these years, you ignored me!" The unsub was growing frantic. There was a sharp pain in your stomach, making you cry out. You were struggling to stand now, struggling to keep balance. You doubled over in pain and that's when JJ shot, hitting the unsub perfectly between the eyes. You fell along with the unsub, holding your stomach in pain.

"Y/n," spencer ran over to you, getting down on his knees beside you. He knew you weren't shot but he didn't understand what was wrong. JJ and Derek went to the unsub, derek kicked the gun away and JJ checked his pulse even tho she knew he was dead. You couldn't speak, writing in pain. The only sounds that left your mouth were whimpers and sobs. "S-spence," JJ said, looking at you. Spencer looked where JJ was looking. You were bleeding, why were you bleeding. "Y/n, whats happening?" Spencer asked, he couldn't put the pieces together but JJ could, she had it happen to her to once. She ran to your side, turning you on your back. "Y/n, are you pregnant?" She asked. Spencer's face fell. You nodded, clutching your abdomen. "We need an ambulance!" JJ yelled. She grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. "It's okay, it'll be okay," she said, pushing hair from your face as you squeezed her hand and sobbed. Spencer couldn't move, he was staring at you in horror. You were pregnant and he didn't even know..

[gatitties]

HEY HEY HOW R U DOING. ITS FINALLY CHRISTMAS TIME SO MERRY CHRIMUH (2023 passed too fast…) im the one who asked for the strawhats x anxiety! Teen! Reader!!!! And im an angsty person so I just wanna ask…

Can you write Strawhats x struggling! Teen! Reader?? It’s the exact same reader btw, they’re strong and kind and helpful and so sweet, has a tough exterior even if they’re just a kid and the youngest on the ship. And when I mean struggling I mean that they deal with self h*te, their anxiety got worse and so on. They didn’t plan to tell the crew but the crew has noticed their behavior. How they go to their room instead of playing with them like they used to, how they just sit down and zone out, a habit of their���s being to put their hand up to their face and rub in annoyance and stress just like they do with the hand on the chest when they’re anxious. The crew sees them being gloomy when they’re alone or whenever the adults look away (putting on the facade) and the reader doesn’t look like they’re taking care of themselves and they’re looking tired and unmotivated.

(kinda describing me a lil bit I just wanna see my comfort characters react to this sorta thing-)

And they finally confront her about it and after some convincing they finally spill all thats inside and get the love that they don’t think they deserve!!! I love angst sorry…

(Before I wrote this I checked through your rules to see if this kinda thing wasn’t allowed. I didn’t see anything opposing my idea but just know that if you feel uncomfy with this sorta thing then thats ok and you can just ignore this ask.❤️ Or maybe you could reply with a little “no” just so me and others know that ur not ok with it. I wanna be respectful!)

ANYWAY I HOPE U HAVE A GOOD CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR. PLEASE AND TY.

─Strawhats x teen!reader (platonic)

─Summary: You thought everything would be fine after your anxiety attacks subsided, but it was just the calm before your mind played with you.

─Warnings: none

(Related post)

ayy sorry I'm a little late with this one but here it is 😭, I hope you had a good Christmas, that you started the year on the right foot and may everything go well for now!! 😌

─ You thought your anxiety attacks would end once you confessed how you felt to the crew, partially accepting their help, and while it worked for a while, you went back into your shell.

─ The mind of adolescents is incredibly moldable, and yours decided to take the most contemptuous path towards yourself, the attacks were controlled, but the self-hatred that you began to feel towards yourself made them return.

─ You felt guilty and your pride did not allow you to seek help a second time, feeling that you would be more of a nuisance to the rest.

─ Your appearance underwent changes as well as your behaviors, your energy was drained, you began to lock yourself in your room more, not be present at group celebrations…

─ Eventually they noticed your sudden change again, everything was fine and from one day to the next you become like a stranger with them again, Robin could notice it instantly.

─ All your actions gave you away, but Chopper recognized the signs of anxiety, your rapid breathing, your eyes moving uncontrollably, although he did not understand why you touched your face so much, he thought it was one of the causes of your anxiety.

─ They accepted that you were a stubborn teenager, but this had to be nipped in the bud just as Nami said once she found out that your anxiety attacks had gotten worse lately, since the indirect way of helping wasn't working now.

─ It was much more stressful for you that they decided to confront you directly, since you used to run away from conversations related to your well-being, being something that you feel insecure talking about, you preferred to avoid it.

─ You tried to escape from that talk with bad excuses, but Sanji's kindness made you sit in the chair like a scolded child.

─ Jinbe silenced Luffy because he knew that he was going to be too direct with you, and although they wanted to be, they needed a little tact to talk to you, Usopp took care of that.

─ You avoided eye contact for most of the talk, not wanting to confront them while you spoke.

─ Again, you ended up crying as you let your feelings come to light, you felt trapped enough to let it all out, much more sincerely than the previous time, feeling a little embarrassed by your cruel thoughts towards you.

─ Luffy scolded you again, but he gave you the best hug you could have received in years, everyone joined in afterwards, except Zoro, who watched from afar with a small smile.

─ You felt calmer after the talk, but it will still be difficult for you to express yourself about how you feel, they assured you that it was okay, that it was okay to want to have some time alone when you feel bad, but that they will always be there to help you with all your problems whatever they are.

[sourgreenlupin]

thinking about sirius confessing to remus, but they get into a fight before he has the chance. (happy ending dw)

sirius had been acting weird for the past week, he had the realisation that he felt differently towards remus than he did towards james or peter. he felt an entirely different form of love for remus.

sirius had been avoiding remus at every opportunity. if remus asked, he was now enthralled by his studies.

every time they were in a room alone, sirius made up some bullshit excuse to leave. and remus started to believe it was his fault.

it took james pulling sirius aside and lecturing him to finally knock sense into him.

‘sirius, i don’t know what your problem with moony is. but you need to pull it together. i’ve had enough of remus crying because you won’t even look at him. if he did something wrong, tell him. but you can’t keep doing this.’

‘what! he didn’t do anything! nononono. this was all me. he’s perfectly fine!’ sirius couldn’t believe remus was taking this out on himself.

‘then fucking talk to him! fix things! im tired of having to pretend nothing is different. deal with it.’ and james left sirius alone, to spiral on the staircase.

when sirius finally pulled himself together, he decided to talk to remus at that very moment. he knew what he wanted, and if avoiding him was hurting remus, then merlin was he going to fix that.

sirius finds remus in the common room, and for the first time in a while, he doesn’t immediately hatch an escape plan.

‘remus?’

‘yeah, i know. you’ve got homework to do. bye.’

‘what? wait, that’s fair. but, actually, i wanted to talk?’ sirius knew this wasn’t off to a great start.

‘after just ignoring me for a full week? funny.’ while the hostility was deserved, it still stung sirius.

‘remus i’m sorry. i just- i had to figure things out. but im ready now. and i would prefer if we didn’t fight about this.’

‘sirius, i’m not sure if you’ve realised, but fighting is all we know how to do! you ignored me without a single hint as to why for an entire week! things aren’t just immediately going to be okay.’

‘if you would shut the fuck up for a second. im trying to apologise. let me.’

‘why should i? huh? every time your emotions run haywire you throw me to the side! you expect me to cater to your every thought without ever telling me anything! i’ve tried and tried to be there for you, and you never let me!’

‘remus-‘

‘no! sirius, im so tired of playing this game. one minute you’re all over me, and the next we’re barely even friends. figure it out.’

‘if you would let me fucking talk. i did figure it out. i spent all week figuring shit out.’

‘sorry. i just- i have a full week of tears and anger to get out.’

‘i understand. and i probably deserve it,’ there’s a beat of silence, remus finally giving sirius the room to talk, but sirius can’t get it out, ‘actually, i think it might be easier for me to say it if we’re yelling at each other.’

‘oh, do you want me to keep going? i can. just interrupt when you’re ready?’

‘awe, how sweet of you. yes, please.’

‘you pull this shit once a fucking month at this point, then come crawling back to me, expecting things to be exactly how they were-‘

the perfect moment.

‘well, this time, i don’t want things to be how they were!’

they both go silent. the room is suffocating sirius. it’s out there. open for interpretation.

finally, remus speaks, ‘padfoot? what do you mean?’

‘i spent the last week trying to come to terms with the fact that i’m in love with you, moony.’

neither boy is breathing. remus’ brows knit together. is this just a joke? is sirius trying to fuck with his feelings? is that why he ignored him? did he find out somehow?

‘if you don’t feel the same remus, it’s really okay, i just couldn’t have you beating yourself up about me being stupid. i just- i couldn’t look at you without wanting you.’ sirius feels vulnerable. and remus can see it in his stance. he’s being truthful.

there’s more silence. remus is analysing every twitch of sirius’ muscles.

and sirius breaks it again, ‘and if this is like a dealbreaker i understand. if you don’t want to be friends i get it. or we can pretend this never happened.’ he’s sweating at this point. why won’t remus just say something.

‘i would hate to stay friends after this.’ but remus is smiling. those are extremely contradicting actions.

‘remus- i don’t- i don’t understand.’

remus stands up, and makes his way over to sirius, ‘i don’t want to be friends. i haven’t wanted to be friends for a long time,’ and then his hand is in sirius’ hair and the other is on his jaw and his eyes are flittering down to sirius’ lips merlin, hes pretty, ‘is this okay?’

‘fucking obviously,’ and sirius is crashing forward and his arms are wrapped around remus and pulling him in closerclosercloser. tongues and teeth and gasping inhales of wantneedplease.

when they finally pull apart, sirius’ arms stay wrapped around moony, any distance away is too far now.

‘just as good as i imagined,’ sirius pants out.

‘is that so? i’ve gotta say, you’ve exceeded expectations.’ remus closes his eyes, and leans his forehead against sirius’.

‘so, uh, no longer friends?’

‘i’d really prefer if we weren’t, padfoot.’

‘kiss me again?’

‘my pleasure.’

[noellefan101]

Helloo!!

I would to send in a request, could you do a soft/fluff day with Mister Neuvillette? With a Female Raeder as well please :)

If your uncomfortable with this request you are welcome to ignore it, thank you very much! :3

(Sending headpats!)

(thank u for the headpats!)

Characters: Neuvillette x Female reader

Summary: a sweet day off, with Neuvi

[edit: i forgot to tag u so here, @ayoharuko]

i only use they/them pronounce for the melusines bc they are in a group(and im a coward)

Note: i tired to finish this as quickly as possible, bc i havent really written anything for neuvi(other than my kissing them series). but i really liked writing this, though it was a little hard to come up with something(my brain is becoming mush), love you

It was really sunny when you woke up, the light shining through the half-open curtains, giving your skin a beautiful glow as well. you sat up in your bed, looking around tiredly. and you were surprised to see Neuvillette still in bed, since he would normally be out of the house by now. but it's not like you were complaining, especially not on his day off. so you quietly snuck out of bed to not wake him, quickly put on a decent outfit and started making breakfast for him.

He eventually did wake up, despite you trying to be quiet, and walked around the house to find you since you weren´t in bed.

He found you in the kitchen, happily dancing around as you made breakfast for you both. the sight made his heart beat in so many ways he couldn´t understand, but he felt warm whenever it happened, so he didn´t give it much thought. although Sigewinne once told him its a sign that he loves you, and so she had to explain to him how that works(she wanted to give up inside a little(poor Sigewinne)).

"Neuvi? Are you ok? you´ve been staring at me for a while now y'know"

"..."

"..."

He didn´t hear you, too lost in your beauty to comprehend that you were talking to him. you were a little annoyed at being ignored, but quickly brushed it off and tried calling him again, this time with a hand on his cheek,

"Neuvillette love, you there?"

He snapped out of his line of thought the second you touched his cheek, now looking into your eyes. placing his own hand over yours.

"Sorry darling, i was just a little too lost in your beauty for a moment. was there anything you needed?"

You looked into his eyes, thinking for a bit, was there anything you needed right now, you guessed he could help you get the flour from the top capinet.

"yes actually, could you be so kind as to hand me the flour, its for the cake i said i wanted to bake"

You looked at him with the pretties eyes you could manage.

"Sure lovely, I´ll get you anything you need"

You removed your hand from his face and walked over to the bowl of sugar and eggs, to mix them together, before the dry ingredients were put in.

You had been baking all morning, what had Neuvillette been doing you ask, well... you actually don't know. either he was in the kitchen helping(looking at) you or he was out of your line of sight(prob with a melusine).

But now you´re kind of missing his presence, and you were done with most of the pastries you wanted him and the melusines to try(your excuse to see him being cute with them).

So you of course wanted to find him.

But you still needed time to set up what you had planned for his day off, and you asked some melusines to help you carry the lighter things, like a blanket or spoons(not knives or forks, they could hurt themselves). and when they then offered to get him for you, you protested, but they just continued on with "you should relax too you´know, not just him. now sit down and we´ll get him over here." so you obliged.

The main reason you had decided that today would be a great time to have a picnic out on a field of flowers, was because it didn´t seem like there were going to be many, if any, clouds today, so it would be perfect for a picnic(hence why you spent your morning in the kitchen).

When they (totally not forcefully) dragged him over to your prepared date, they could see the visible change it his eyes (though it was already softer than normal, bc melusines) when he looked at you sitting among the flowers. he eventually sat down beside you, kissing your cheek softly and thanking you for doing this just for him.

Eventually, the melusines that helped you set up and stuff left (smiling sweetly at their monsuir [i think i spelled it wrong, im sry] Neuvillette´s sweet interaction with you).

The both of you didn´t even notice and you just continued on with your picnic. you offered him a piece of the cake you baked in the morning, and he happily took it, enjoying the taste of your baking.

(as he should)

He had also looked at you with heart in his eyes(more than he normally did) as you ate your piece of cake, he couldn´t help himself you were too beautiful not to look at too long. It´s not the first time he has looked(stared) at you today either, and it certainly won´t be the last time today. Safe to say he liked having this day with you, a day containing only you (and the occasional Melusine), instead of all the paperwork being the only thing he normally looks at all-day.

He liked anything you did together, it doesn´t matter if it was his or your idea, neither if he liked the thing or not, the thing that mattered was that you wanted to, that you were there with him, and he loves you even more for that.

He loves you more than a diver loves the sea, more than a florist loves flowers, more than anything.

Thank u for reading, hope its ok(ik its late asf), luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[asterefflores]

Hello Aster....

Im the who gave the idea of the twins argument..

Now i have another idea

Please save me😂😭

You know I was just thinking about what would happen if Roksoo just wake up in the middle of the night and feel his body is burning because he's having a fever but he just ignore it and then Cale would wake up by his moans in sleep because he was sick and having nightmares at the same time...

So.. yeah..

with the presence of daddy Tristan Please 😭❤️

Sorry for giving you trouble and Thank you so much😭❤️

Daddy Tristan must be with them in every request now I think lol xD

------------------------

Cold, it was freezing cold…

His body went numb and even stopped shaking at some point. He wondered if this was how he would finally die.

People hurriedly walked past the alley to their homes to avoid the coming storm. It wasn’t like they hadn’t noticed the child lying on the floor curled up on himself, looking too frail and barely alive. Their glances lasted less than a second.

He hoped for a little bit of sympathy. Having an extra layer to wear would be appreciated. However, it appears that people have become accustomed to seeing homeless and dying people on the streets.

Perhaps he couldn’t say people were cruel for this. Surely, ignoring poor people didn’t come naturally at first. He himself had met some particularly obscene and desperate beggars who had come to be viewed as a potential danger to anyone showing a moment of kindness.

He never thought of excusing those people in the past; a kid wouldn’t be able to understand all sides of society. He only focused on surviving and avoiding getting beaten up. He could steal some clothes and food from shops around, but he hates pain. Scamming was much better, but he couldn’t move an inch now after getting ganged up by some teens who couldn’t find a stray cat to bully as their daily routine. Instead, they found a stray kid and probably thought, ‘Even better’.

Now he was all bruised, and he was too tired to try and find shelter for the night. He wished for one person to feel a bit sorry for him, but the streets soon became empty, and there was no one to glance his way anymore. There was no use to keep his eyes open in hopes that anyone would come his way to help.

Even though he probably should keep his eyes open in case other bullies would target him on a whim again, he was too tired.

His eyes slowly closed…

He lived long, yet he still found it difficult to survive once again in a dirty alley with a body of skin and bones.

The storm arrived, and he barely even flinched under the torrential downpour.

However, he didn’t know if he was starting to imagine stuff, but he felt warm below the water that pooled from the rainstorm, or was he dying?

If this is how death feels like, then perhaps he should’ve given up long ago…

“Mhm…”

A quiet sound escaped him as he basked in the warmth at last, feeling at ease as he was drowned underwater.

He felt incredibly light, as if his soul was finally set free. He was floating away and safe from everyone…

“—ung…”

Wait, how is he a kid again?

“—yung…”

Where are his Ancient Powers?

“Hyung…”

“…mmh…?”

The muffled sounds of drowning were suddenly gone when he opened his eyes, though he strained to keep them open before he finally gave up after a few tired blinks.

“…hmm…?”

Why can’t he form a single word? Why does his body feel heavy and cold all over? Why is it hard to move even his jaw?

He soon felt like he was suffocating. He noticed his shallow breathing…

“Hmm…” he made a quiet sound with his eyes closed, appreciating the cool hand that came to rest on his forehead.

“Gentle Human, is the Human still having a nightmare…?”

He heard Raon asking quietly, sounding worried.

“I think he’s awake now, dear. But…he has a fever…”

‘…was I making noises in my sleep?’

Rok-Soo heard Cale softly speaking to the kids while seemingly tapping on some device, almost whispering so as not to disturb his hyung even though his hyung was awake indeed.

He gulped as he thought of speaking, and he slightly frowned in pain at how sore his throat was. ‘I really have a fever?’

How was that possible? What about the Vitality of the Heart?

“Hyung, I called Dad. He’ll be here in a second— ah, here he is.”

‘Right, we decided to spend the night in the tower…’

He could feel at ease with Tristan around. Their dad somehow always manages to solve their issues fast, after all.

Just as Cale announced, Rok-Soo felt another presence calmly sitting by his side on the bed. He felt another hand patting his head gently.

“…something is restricting his Ancient Powers, it seems.”

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed with his eyes still closed at hearing Tristan.   

“Probably the effect of a malfunctioning device in the tower,” Tristan explained, standing up calmly after, “I’ll go take a look quickly.” He walked back to the teleport podium and looked at Cale, “Don’t let him drink or eat anything yet, not even water. It may worsen his condition.”

“I understand.”

Tristan offered a little smile to Cale and the kids, “It won’t take long.”

He left as soon as they relaxed their expressions.

Rok-Soo felt the bed dip a little on his left. The hand on his forehead moved to his chest just above the blanket, patting lightly.

Pat, Pat…

‘…is dongsaeng using magic?’

The action made him feel less cold. It felt nice and comfortable. He could drift back to sleep with this…

…he heard little, soft murmurs from the kids, and it all helped lull him to sleep eventually…

This time, he dreamt of his brat of a dongsaeng joking beside him with the kids before sleep, teasing him with light pats on his chest and the kids mimicking him as they patted his head and cheek with their paws.

He kept sighing, smiling and laughing while they played silly again, as they always do every night.

The rest of the dream was a haze when he suddenly opened his eyes and found the gentle sunlight streaming in through the windows on his right.

He blinked blankly, lying still and staring at the ceiling. The room was as comfortably quiet as usual, with the kids sticking to him in their sleep.

“Good morning.”

He looked to the door at the whisper to find Cale just entering the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“…did I have a fever?” Rok-Soo asked as Cale walked toward the bed, showing his easy smile as if nothing had happened.

“Yes, you did, it wasn’t a dream.” Cale answered and sat on the chair beside the bed. “Dad came back half an hour later and said it shouldn’t take long for your Ancient Powers to help you recover soon. Minutes later, and your fever was gone.”

“I see.” The whole night feels like a blur in his mind now. It’s been so long since he last fell sick, so it was almost a foreign experience now after all those years. “Why are you smiling like that?” He finally asked when the brat kept smiling strangely with amused eyes.

“I just wonder, what were you dreaming about? You kept smiling the whole time in your sleep before you started laughing.” Cale chuckled so as not to wake the kids, “The kids called Dad again. They told him to come check again because you were probably possessed.”

“……”

Cale started giggling quietly as his hyung sighed.

“Dad effortlessly convinced them they should get to sleep because their worrying souls are the ones disturbing you, so Raon used magic to make the three of them sleep until I wake them up.”

“……”

Rok-Soo just sighed again while his dongsaeng laughed at the whole thing.

He pretended later to have forgotten what he dreamt about, and of course, neither Cale nor Tristan believed him, probably even the kids.

.

.

.

[doodles-arts]

I Promise, I'll never hurt you.

Itadori Yuji x Reader 2/3

part: 1, 3

Description: Your a Jujutsu sorcerer who can manipulate memories and emotions. Its a curse that has been placed upon you, where no matter what the emotions of others has been placed upon you. There is an obvious condition to this tremendous power, however. Yuji, being a vessel is pretty immune to all things that may tamper his soul… could this be a match made in heaven?

Genre: Friends to Lovers. Short story

warnings: Body Talk (female x reader)

A/N: Hey guys thank you SO MUCH for the love on my last post for this and im so sorry that I've been SO inactive. But I've been moving recently and will be moving again in the next 3 weeks! wish me luck as I try to find some time to write as much as possible.

oh! before I forget.... I got married! To a Handsome guy who would move mountains for me. We'll call him Yhervi for now

Don't forget to reblog!

You were no stranger to a guy paying you extra attention, in contrast, you enjoyed it. But it being a fellow student at Jujustsu High, made you uneasy. Sure, he was an underclassmen and it meant you could boast about being a students favorite senpai. But you weren’t a normal schoolgirl, not some person who could hang out with the other cursed users, like the elders once said- ‘until you control yourself, you may as well be a danger to others.’ How long ago was that? 

Never mind, you had more important things to think about, like a certain underclassmen who was attached to your hip, and fed you compliments when you least expected them. 

After training, he’d ask you to go out to lunch with him, and sit and talk. Your leg would bounce nervously, not used to being around someone this long. You had relationships before, but once you realized that they were all ending the same way because they’re normal humans, blessed with the ignorance of curses, you stopped trying. Sure you slept with someone every now and then at your university, but you never did more than that. Not like it lasted that long anyway, or that you enjoyed it so much that you’d do it again. 

This was the second time you had left the school grounds with Yuji. He beamed at you when you said yes, and when it got silent between you two, that’s when he’d compliment you, “you’re so pretty (y/n), I’m sure lots of people tell you that.” Sometimes you’d wake up early for a run, and when you reached the field, there was Yuji, waiting, a tired look on his face. You didn’t know how he knew, but he did and there he was, waving energetically when your eyes met. He was much faster than you, but he made you giggle whenever he passed you with a goofy remark. “Say! You’re pretty fast, you finally finished that lap after my third!” He’d joke sarcastically. 

No one was as athletically gifted as Yuji. 

You had turned him down on other casual hangouts at first, you were afraid that he’d be affected by you. But then he kept insisting and there were only so many excuses you could come up with, so you guessed it was alright after some time. It wasn’t like you avoided people, you just wanted to do what was right for others. And the more you indulged in his little requests to see new attractions in Tokyo, the more you felt your self sinking in a thick pool of sand. He was always excited and always included you in his excitement, he listened to all the things you’d inform him about. The things you learned when you first came. 

It was like you were the only person next to him, when he walked, people cleared the way for his tall statue and boyish charm. You didn’t miss the staring and jealous glares. Itadori Yuji was more than than just handsome. And you’d be deceiving yourself if you said he didn’t have a perfect body. You walked through the city together as the sun started setting, and when you passed by a train station, you grabbed his waist innocently to prevent you two being separated. Yuji may know where he is, but he’d still get lost in the sea of people, you knew this because he had told you. You found it deliciously cute. How foolish of you to grab him so possessively, you were guiding him through the people, but all the same your head was swarming with images of that could be hiding under his shirt. 

His baggy choice of clothes on this casual outing, depraving you of any imagination before hand. But now, you were drinking him in, the way his arm held onto you by your shoulders. You started to wondered when you had gotten so close to each other. You swore he had pulled you in closer, and you the sinking feeling pulled you down faster. There was a warning you usually followed that was being drowned out by the vibrations of yuji’s energy. It was a dangerously catchy beat, almost sounded like a mix of techno and pop…..

You made it through, quickly unwrapping yourself as your cheeks grew hot, a bad habit, pulling away from others, he linked his arm with yours with a wolfish grin. You stared at him, confused as to how someone could be so naturally sweet. How could you remember you were cursed when he looked at you like that, the sun was setting but when he smiled at you like that, you could feel your cheeks being sunburned. ‘God damnit’. 

The two of you were like a pair of walking magnets, you always found yourself someway, somehow linked together.

So while you walked back to your parking spot, which was ridiculously far, you walked together with your arm tucked nicely in his. 

After that, Yuji became more and more attached to you. Any time you weren’t on a mission, he found you. You swore he had some kind of tracking device on you. On your days off, you dedicated them to reading and catching up on shows that you meant to watch; now your days off consisted of a pink haired boy knocking on your door, begging you to take him somewhere new, or asked to watch some new ridiculous movie. And how could you say no to a face like that? 

The sinking feeling you were desperately fighting was reaching you at your hips. You could no longer pull your feet out to try and fight it. 

. ˚ · • . ° .

He had successfully been able to pull you out of your isolation cocoon. He saw the way Maki smirked at him, he had assumed it was a thank you, for pulling you out of your selfless endeavor. At least you weren’t alone. And Yuji wasn’t complaining, you were so fun to be around, he felt at ease around you. So on an afternoon that you had made it to Jujustu tech high after a mission, he treated you to dinner in the common space. Where he couldn’t help but say, “Your the best company to have, (y/n)-senpai!” You flushed proudly, you could get used to hearing that~

And when he asked you to take him to Tokyo Tower the next day, the main attraction he had hoped to see one day in his outskirt town, you jokingly declined, until he begged. Yes- ‘begged’ on his knees, gripping your legs, and at the time he thought it was funny, until he breathed in your scent and it made his head swoon. He brushed it off when you laughed and pushed his head, “Ok! You can count on me! Now get off.” He did so eagerly, a second longer and he would have lost it. 

So what, so what he thought you smelled nice and looked so pretty in your uniform, that you always looked so pretty, so approachable. Many individuals stopped you for directions, especially tourists, maybe it was because of your americanized style? He wouldn’t dwell on it too long, it did things to him. He thought it was your curse building on his feeling of friendship. What he didn’t know was that your curse wasn’t that interested in Yuji, like it wasn’t affecting him………..

The leggings you wore with those cute oversized shirts that you tuck in the back in your bra to accentuate your figure. Showing off your toned legs from training and your curves ever so evident for everyone to see in the warming spring. Your hair pulled back in a slicked way to round out you face and make you look younger. He gave you a closed eyed grin, not able to keep looking at you, he’d burst in to flames if he did. You were attractive, so what, he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. You were too precious.

But you were too focused on his own body to think of the possibility of him doing the same. And so what, he was attractive, you held no shame. He deserved the attention. 

Your style was americanized, maybe that was why tourists found you so approachable, asking for directions. Especially the Americans, and they’d rejoice when they heard you reply in English to their butchered Japanese. He liked how easy it came to you to help others. And he thanked you internally for giving him your time as well.  Traveling on the train wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

You took him to Tokyo Tower and guided him through it, the whole reason it was so famous, the history to it and taking him to the main deck, and when you brought him up to the top deck, pointing to all the places you knew. He noticed the goosebumps on your skin since you had no sleeves and he shed his oversized coat on you, wordesly placing it on your shoulders. You didn’t ignore the sweet gesture, you just smiled at him as he leaned forward on the railing with you and continued to point to places and ask you what they were. Thanks to the clear skies on the spring afternoon, you noticed that Mount Fiji was in view and pointed to it for him.

He was mesmerized, and watched the entire city in silence, taking it in, he pressed his shoulder against yours, and you didn’t move. Not wanting to break the blissful moment with Itadori Yuji. Watching the clouds move and taking in the breeze that carried both of your scents. 

You both didn’t want to move before it was time, but the breeze got stronger as the afternoon sun begin its descent. You both made your way down the crazy long tower, and headed to Shiodome, where there was an “Italian town” by Hama-rikyu Gardens you knew he’d love. And he had. 

For the first time in a long time, you received a call from Satoru-san, and when you looked down to your phone, you hadn’t realize the time. ‘Oh shit, I’m gonna hear it now.’ 

G:

“Why haven’t you come back? Did you at least go out with another second year?”

Y/n:

“I actually gave Yuji a tour of Tokyo Tower, sorry, I hadn’t looked at the time.”

G:

“Hm, okay, tell him I say hi. Have fun, let me know when you get to your dorm.” 

He had ended the call cheerfully, ‘what the hell.’ Yuji was watching you attentively, “was that Gojo-sensi?” He asked softly, you nodded. “He wanted to know when I was coming home.” Yuji took his phone out to look at the time and hissed when he saw it said 10:46. 

“Oh gosh, I hadn’t realized the time, we should probably get back.” You giggled and waved your hand to relax him, “Were both free tomorrow, he wasn’t telling me to go home, just checking in. He said to tell you Hi, actually.” He grinned and agreed there was no harm. And with that you both walked the combed gardens while finding your way. The night was peaceful, you found your arms linked together again, how? You had no idea, but they were, and you weren’t going to pull away if he didn’t. 

“What was America like?” He asked as you sat at a bench together. You had convinced him that taking the subway later would be calmer. He didn’t protest to more time with you. You hummed and clicked your tongue on the top of the roof of your mouth while you thought. “It was suffocating sometimes, they hold so many useless ideals unlike Japan. But I do miss it sometimes, the language, the music, the dumb class clowns.” You had picked up on the cultural difference between Japan and America about a month in. America had so many useless laws and ideals, Japan was much more comfortable, but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t miss certain things. Japan had a way of slowly reminding you that you yourself were a foreigner, like with the traditional Japanese names and writing characters, you still struggled with them. 

He noticed it too when you sometimes refrained from saying Megumi’s full name, addressing him as ‘gumi’, instead. He was jealous for not having a nickname. But he pushed it down, deep down. “Do you ever think about, I don’t know, going back?” You leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder, delighted to feel him lean in too. “Sometimes, but then I remember, there’s nothing or anyone waiting for me. I like the family I have here better.” His heart fluttered to hear you say family, did that include him too?

You both spoke of your childhoods, it was peaceful, engulfing the two of you in a blissful stop, where everything else was secondary to the person sitting next to you. It wasn’t long until you stood and stretched with his much too big jacket on your frame, announcing you were gonna head back. He flushed, you were still wearing it, and it was adorable, his heart pounding. He might be in some trouble after all. He tried to build up the courage to grab you hand, but chickened out to link your arms once again, as he had done the whole day. He smiled softly when you pulled him closer and leaned your head on his upper arm. He might ask for more one day, but this would suffice if you never wanted him the way he did, ‘wait, what?’ He thought. He was definitely in trouble. 

You both walked and waited for the subway, to get to the outskirts of the your school. These were the quiet moments he missed, he didn’t have them anymore now that Sukuna was in the way and always pitched in to his thoughts. Something he just placed to together he hadn’t heard from Sukuna all day……

His huge jacket and the quiet lulling swaying of the train was making you sleepy, something you hadn’t been able to achieve until Yuji began consuming your thoughts. You wondered how long this fantasy would last until your curse would force you to loose this ray of sunshine in your life.

‘Maybe i’ll be little selfish for a while longer’. You felt the sinking feeling continue to consume you, all the way up to your chest, your arms didn’t even move to claw yourself up.

You had fallen asleep too quickly to stop yourself, and Yuji grinned and chuckled as he wrapped an arm around you and leaned you against his shoulder, his heart beating too quickly to register his own tired state. Despite it being a little ways over midnight, he’d been asking so much of your time, he’d push through and give you this small moment of peace. He’d take care of you now. 

You made it home and walked to your dorm, that he had walked you too on the 2nd years side. 

“Goodnight, Yuji-san.” You said sweetly, he hummed and leaned forward, your eyes widening. It was like he had been asking for a goodnight kiss. Not knowing what else to do, not wanting to sink any further, you pulled him into a tight hug, instead. He sighed inwardly, he had been lulled into your adorable face by his sleepy mind, attempting to kiss you. But this was fine too. As you pulled away, dashing into you room, back against the door, your heart pounding. Something Yuji hadn’t glossed over when you had hugged him. 

He couldn’t help the grin on his face as he leaned on to your door, arm of the door and felt your heartbeat and said, “Goodnight (y/n)-Senpai.” You didn’t hear him walk away for a few moments, heart pounding in your ears making you think he had. 

But when he did, you fell on your butt, back still against the door. ’This is bad. REALLY bad’, you thought. After a few moments, you had to hold back a scream when your door knob turned and tried to fly open, only to be stopped by your back and head. “At-ti-ti-ti” you groaned while holding your head and moved out of the way, there stood Maki, face stoick as always, until she found you on the floor, with Yuji’s jacket still on, cheeks flushed all the way to your ears. She smirked. Walking over to your bed with a proud look. Sitting with legs crossed and leaned forward.

“Cougar”, she jabbed. 

You knew you weren’t getting any sleep. You’d have to tell her every detail. Or else. 

˚ · • . ° .

Though Itadori had taken you out another couple of times, and gotten more brazen, holding your hand when walking through the city and thru the last Tokyo attraction you’d both had been too, he also saw how much more flustered you’d become. You never pulled away, never stopped him when he hugged you, or put an arm around your shoulders. You just flushed and looked away, peeking over at him and quickly look away again. You realized that the others had also picked up on how you and Yuji were subconsciously flirting. 

Panda had already teased you about it, which Yuji had noticed, but you huffed and took your leave for a shower. Panda then teased him about, “oii, Yuji~ what do you prefer? Boobs or butts!” He probably choked before he even picked. Panda snickering before patting his shoulder, “come on, don’t be shy~!” The smug grin on the cursed corpse edging Yuji to answer.

He thought deeply, he wouldn’t lie, he did like a plump, round “-butt.” His senpai huffed pervertedly, chuckling while patting on his lower classmen’s shoulders. 

You had left and Yuji, would have lied if he said that he didn’t watch you walk away. 

He’d wait for you, however long it takes. There was something there, and he’d wait. But for now, he’d focus on getting stronger. 

So for the rest of the afternoon, He’d train,with Gojo….

-After a couple days. (You and Maki and Nobara were sitting in a park, with your speakers, exploring American music.)

During a training break where he sat on the floor, watching panda and Toge train now as Megumi went to get some drinks. He spaced out for a moment, thinking of you, and that sun dress you had worn a few days back, going for a food run, to which he invited himself too. The mini fridge wouldn’t stock itself. And besides, you weren’t really allowed to leave the grounds of the school on your own, due to your curse and all. But mostly because it was Gojo’s request, so you were totally okay with him tagging along. 

He watched the way your skin, that was usually unexposed, drank up the sun from the early summer days. The way your legs glimmered, they looked so soft. He wondered what else was soft- His train of thought was thankfully stopped by the ringing of a phone next to him and to his surprise it wasn’t his own. When he glanced down, the caller ID was Nobara and he assumed the phone belonged to Megumi. But what he was greeted with, took him by surprise:

Y: Hey Nobara, Megumi’s in the bathroom-

N: (nobara speaking) Oh come on, between the three of us, you’re telling me you’re not getting any action? Even with Yuji floating around you like that? 

He heard all three of you giggle. And he swore he was going to hang up, but the conversation kept peeking his interest. *especially since he heard his name….

N: ((y/n) speaking) It’s nothing like that, Itadori is better off keeping his distance. I’m the one being selfish. Besides, if we ever get to that point, I might never be able to look at him again if he’s affected by me. 

You sighed and turned on some English music. It was clear that Nobara had either did this on purpose or butt dialed Megumi by an accident. 

N: (Maki speaking) Don’t try and to act innocent you cougar, (y/n) is just afraid that he’ll either be the best experience she’s had in bed, or just the same as the rest. 

Nobara tried to stifle her laugh, unsuccessfully. And at this moment, Yuji thought he felt guilty for listening, but he knew himself better than that.

N: ((y/n) speaking) MAKI! Don’t embarrass me like this! I’m only a year older than him! BESIDES, even if I did imagine something happening between us, at the end of the day, sooner or later, he’ll grow to resent me the more his body is exposed to my cursed energy.

You sighed, getting quiet again. Itadori felt his chest heaving, turning to make sure Megumi was no where near. 

N: (Nobara speaking) Oh come on, Yuji is too soft to ever do something like that. You should know how he is, I don’t think he has a bone in his body with malice. He more of a walking airhead.

There was a pause, only the strange English music that Yuji was printing into the back of his mind to search up and add to your playlist he created. He never wanted to forget the next words that escape your mouth through the phone. 

N: ((y/n) speaking) You’re right, I can’t change how I feel, and I can’t change the strange feeling that something bad will happen. I’m sure Maki will flick my forehead for this - there was a pair of chuckles - I’ll just be selfish for as long as I can and let him decide. I am still his favorite senpai~

With that- he hung up the phone call, his fluttering heart and burning ears under the warm sun not allowing him to to listen to another word, without exploding.

He placed the phone down and pulled out his own, rushing to the search engine on his own phone, writing down the few lyrics he understood in hopes of finding the song that would only serve to further drive his desires and hopes. 

“Sunburn by The LivingTombstone.” He murmured as he was successful in finding it. His friend passed him a water bottle, silent as he sat down. Yuji- still flustered by everything he had heard slowly grasped it. “Ah, thanks a lot Megumi.” Though Yuji felt that he was thanking his friend for more than the water bottle that he guzzled down. 

Megumi thought Yuji had lost his mind when he threw the rest of the water he didn’t drink on top of his head, it soaked through his hair and trickled down his temple to his chin. 

˚ · • . ° .

By the end of the day, he had memorized the strange tune from the song that he had no idea what they were saying. He also hadn’t heard the song playing on your speaker, or phone when the two of you were together. His eyebrows knitted together as he laid in bed staring at the song, the wonderful graphics of the animated music video. After it played for about the 7th time, he looked up the lyrics translated in Japanese and his heart started swooning. 

Turning to lay on his toned chest, digging his face in his pillow as he shut his eyes. Highschool crushes were the worst, they had a way of pulling the strangest reactions from you, the only thing in the world that made Yuji feel like he had to hold on to this one thing with the strongest grip in the world. So he wouldn’t loose you like he had lost so many others, he tried his best to ignore Sukuna and his quips about how he pursuit was futile. How you’d grow tired of his insistence sooner or later. 

All his focus was on the lyrics that caught his attention, the words swirling around and pulling his heart with it. 

“I’m losing myself. You smile, and I get sunburn.” 

He hoped that this song was recently added to your playlist after meeting him. He prayed to whoever was listening, that this was how you felt about him, and only him. 

You were no stranger to a guy paying you extra attention, in contrast, you enjoyed it. But it being a fellow student at Jujustsu High, made you uneasy. Sure, he was an underclassmen and it meant you could boast about being a students favorite senpai. But you weren’t a normal schoolgirl, not some person who could hang out with the other cursed users, like the elders once said- ‘until you control yourself, you may as well be a danger to others.’ How long ago was that? 

Never mind, you had more important things to think about, like a certain underclassmen who was attached to your hip, and fed you compliments when you least expected them. 

After training, he’d ask you to go out to lunch with him, and sit and talk. Your leg would bounce nervously, not used to being around someone this long. You had relationships before, but once you realized that they were all ending the same way because they’re normal humans, blessed with the ignorance of curses, you stopped trying. Sure you slept with someone every now and then at your university, but you never did more than that. Not like it lasted that long anyway, or that you enjoyed it so much that you’d do it again. 

This was the second time you had left the school grounds with Yuji. He beamed at you when you said yes, and when it got silent between you two, that’s when he’d compliment you, “you’re so pretty (y/n), I’m sure lots of people tell you that.” Sometimes you’d wake up early for a run, and when you reached the field, there was Yuji, waiting, a tired look on his face. You didn’t know how he knew, but he did and there he was, waving energetically when your eyes met. He was much faster than you, but he made you giggle whenever he passed you with a goofy remark. “Say! You’re pretty fast, you finally finished that lap after my third!” He’d joke sarcastically. 

No one was as athletically gifted as Yuji. 

You had turned him down on other casual hangouts at first, you were afraid that he’d be affected by you. But then he kept insisting and there were only so many excuses you could come up with, so you guessed it was alright after some time. It wasn’t like you avoided people, you just wanted to do what was right for others. And the more you indulged in his little requests to see new attractions in Tokyo, the more you felt your self sinking in a thick pool of sand. He was always excited and always included you in his excitement, he listened to all the things you’d inform him about. The things you learned when you first came. 

It was like you were the only person next to him, when he walked, people cleared the way for his tall statue and boyish charm. You didn’t miss the staring and jealous glares. Itadori Yuji was more than than just handsome. And you’d be deceiving yourself if you said he didn’t have a perfect body. You walked through the city together as the sun started setting, and when you passed by a train station, you grabbed his waist innocently to prevent you two being separated. Yuji may know where he is, but he’d still get lost in the sea of people, you knew this because he had told you. You found it deliciously cute. How foolish of you to grab him so possessively, you were guiding him through the people, but all the same your head was swarming with images of that could be hiding under his shirt. 

His baggy choice of clothes on this casual outing, depraving you of any imagination before hand. But now, you were drinking him in, the way his arm held onto you by your shoulders. You started to wondered when you had gotten so close to each other. You swore he had pulled you in closer, and you the sinking feeling pulled you down faster. There was a warning you usually followed that was being drowned out by the vibrations of yuji’s energy. It was a dangerously catchy beat, almost sounded like a mix of techno and pop…..

You made it through, quickly unwrapping yourself as your cheeks grew hot, a bad habit, pulling away from others, he linked his arm with yours with a wolfish grin. You stared at him, confused as to how someone could be so naturally sweet. How could you remember you were cursed when he looked at you like that, the sun was setting but when he smiled at you like that, you could feel your cheeks being sunburned. ‘God damnit’. 

The two of you were like a pair of walking magnets, you always found yourself someway, somehow linked together.

So while you walked back to your parking spot, which was ridiculously far, you walked together with your arm tucked nicely in his. 

After that, Yuji became more and more attached to you. Any time you weren’t on a mission, he found you. You swore he had some kind of tracking device on you. On your days off, you dedicated them to reading and catching up on shows that you meant to watch; now your days off consisted of a pink haired boy knocking on your door, begging you to take him somewhere new, or asked to watch some new ridiculous movie. And how could you say no to a face like that? 

The sinking feeling you were desperately fighting was reaching you at your hips. You could no longer pull your feet out to try and fight it. 

. ˚ · • . ° .

He had successfully been able to pull you out of your isolation cocoon. He saw the way Maki smirked at him, he had assumed it was a thank you, for pulling you out of your selfless endeavor. At least you weren’t alone. And Yuji wasn’t complaining, you were so fun to be around, he felt at ease around you. So on an afternoon that you had made it to Jujustu tech high after a mission, he treated you to dinner in the common space. Where he couldn’t help but say, “Your the best company to have, (y/n)-senpai!” You flushed proudly, you could get used to hearing that~

And when he asked you to take him to Tokyo Tower the next day, the main attraction he had hoped to see one day in his outskirt town, you jokingly declined, until he begged. Yes- ‘begged’ on his knees, gripping your legs, and at the time he thought it was funny, until he breathed in your scent and it made his head swoon. He brushed it off when you laughed and pushed his head, “Ok! You can count on me! Now get off.” He did so eagerly, a second longer and he would have lost it. 

So what, so what he thought you smelled nice and looked so pretty in your uniform, that you always looked so pretty, so approachable. Many individuals stopped you for directions, especially tourists, maybe it was because of your americanized style? He wouldn’t dwell on it too long, it did things to him. He thought it was your curse building on his feeling of friendship. What he didn’t know was that your curse wasn’t that interested in Yuji, like it wasn’t affecting him………..

The leggings you wore with those cute oversized shirts that you tuck in the back in your bra to accentuate your figure. Showing off your toned legs from training and your curves ever so evident for everyone to see in the warming spring. Your hair pulled back in a slicked way to round out you face and make you look younger. He gave you a closed eyed grin, not able to keep looking at you, he’d burst in to flames if he did. You were attractive, so what, he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. You were too precious.

But you were too focused on his own body to think of the possibility of him doing the same. And so what, he was attractive, you held no shame. He deserved the attention. 

Your style was americanized, maybe that was why tourists found you so approachable, asking for directions. Especially the Americans, and they’d rejoice when they heard you reply in English to their butchered Japanese. He liked how easy it came to you to help others. And he thanked you internally for giving him your time as well.  Traveling on the train wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

You took him to Tokyo Tower and guided him through it, the whole reason it was so famous, the history to it and taking him to the main deck, and when you brought him up to the top deck, pointing to all the places you knew. He noticed the goosebumps on your skin since you had no sleeves and he shed his oversized coat on you, wordesly placing it on your shoulders. You didn’t ignore the sweet gesture, you just smiled at him as he leaned forward on the railing with you and continued to point to places and ask you what they were. Thanks to the clear skies on the spring afternoon, you noticed that Mount Fiji was in view and pointed to it for him.

He was mesmerized, and watched the entire city in silence, taking it in, he pressed his shoulder against yours, and you didn’t move. Not wanting to break the blissful moment with Itadori Yuji. Watching the clouds move and taking in the breeze that carried both of your scents. 

You both didn’t want to move before it was time, but the breeze got stronger as the afternoon sun begin its descent. You both made your way down the crazy long tower, and headed to Shiodome, where there was an “Italian town” by Hama-rikyu Gardens you knew he’d love. And he had. 

For the first time in a long time, you received a call from Satoru-san, and when you looked down to your phone, you hadn’t realize the time. ‘Oh shit, I’m gonna hear it now.’ 

G:

“Why haven’t you come back? Did you at least go out with another second year?”

Y/n:

“I actually gave Yuji a tour of Tokyo Tower, sorry, I hadn’t looked at the time.”

G:

“Hm, okay, tell him I say hi. Have fun, let me know when you get to your dorm.” 

He had ended the call cheerfully, ‘what the hell.’ Yuji was watching you attentively, “was that Gojo-sensi?” He asked softly, you nodded. “He wanted to know when I was coming home.” Yuji took his phone out to look at the time and hissed when he saw it said 10:46. 

“Oh gosh, I hadn’t realized the time, we should probably get back.” You giggled and waved your hand to relax him, “Were both free tomorrow, he wasn’t telling me to go home, just checking in. He said to tell you Hi, actually.” He grinned and agreed there was no harm. And with that you both walked the combed gardens while finding your way. The night was peaceful, you found your arms linked together again, how? You had no idea, but they were, and you weren’t going to pull away if he didn’t. 

“What was America like?” He asked as you sat at a bench together. You had convinced him that taking the subway later would be calmer. He didn’t protest to more time with you. You hummed and clicked your tongue on the top of the roof of your mouth while you thought. “It was suffocating sometimes, they hold so many useless ideals unlike Japan. But I do miss it sometimes, the language, the music, the dumb class clowns.” You had picked up on the cultural difference between Japan and America about a month in. America had so many useless laws and ideals, Japan was much more comfortable, but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t miss certain things. Japan had a way of slowly reminding you that you yourself were a foreigner, like with the traditional Japanese names and writing characters, you still struggled with them. 

He noticed it too when you sometimes refrained from saying Megumi’s full name, addressing him as ‘gumi’, instead. He was jealous for not having a nickname. But he pushed it down, deep down. “Do you ever think about, I don’t know, going back?” You leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder, delighted to feel him lean in too. “Sometimes, but then I remember, there’s nothing or anyone waiting for me. I like the family I have here better.” His heart fluttered to hear you say family, did that include him too?

You both spoke of your childhoods, it was peaceful, engulfing the two of you in a blissful stop, where everything else was secondary to the person sitting next to you. It wasn’t long until you stood and stretched with his much too big jacket on your frame, announcing you were gonna head back. He flushed, you were still wearing it, and it was adorable, his heart pounding. He might be in some trouble after all. He tried to build up the courage to grab you hand, but chickened out to link your arms once again, as he had done the whole day. He smiled softly when you pulled him closer and leaned your head on his upper arm. He might ask for more one day, but this would suffice if you never wanted him the way he did, ‘wait, what?’ He thought. He was definitely in trouble. 

You both walked and waited for the subway, to get to the outskirts of the your school. These were the quiet moments he missed, he didn’t have them anymore now that Sukuna was in the way and always pitched in to his thoughts. Something he just placed to together he hadn’t heard from Sukuna all day……

His huge jacket and the quiet lulling swaying of the train was making you sleepy, something you hadn’t been able to achieve until Yuji began consuming your thoughts. You wondered how long this fantasy would last until your curse would force you to loose this ray of sunshine in your life.

‘Maybe i’ll be little selfish for a while longer’. You felt the sinking feeling continue to consume you, all the way up to your chest, your arms didn’t even move to claw yourself up.

You had fallen asleep too quickly to stop yourself, and Yuji grinned and chuckled as he wrapped an arm around you and leaned you against his shoulder, his heart beating too quickly to register his own tired state. Despite it being a little ways over midnight, he’d been asking so much of your time, he’d push through and give you this small moment of peace. He’d take care of you now. 

You made it home and walked to your dorm, that he had walked you too on the 2nd years side. 

“Goodnight, Yuji-san.” You said sweetly, he hummed and leaned forward, your eyes widening. It was like he had been asking for a goodnight kiss. Not knowing what else to do, not wanting to sink any further, you pulled him into a tight hug, instead. He sighed inwardly, he had been lulled into your adorable face by his sleepy mind, attempting to kiss you. But this was fine too. As you pulled away, dashing into you room, back against the door, your heart pounding. Something Yuji hadn’t glossed over when you had hugged him. 

He couldn’t help the grin on his face as he leaned on to your door, arm of the door and felt your heartbeat and said, “Goodnight (y/n)-Senpai.” You didn’t hear him walk away for a few moments, heart pounding in your ears making you think he had. 

But when he did, you fell on your butt, back still against the door. ’This is bad. REALLY bad’, you thought. After a few moments, you had to hold back a scream when your door knob turned and tried to fly open, only to be stopped by your back and head. “At-ti-ti-ti” you groaned while holding your head and moved out of the way, there stood Maki, face stoick as always, until she found you on the floor, with Yuji’s jacket still on, cheeks flushed all the way to your ears. She smirked. Walking over to your bed with a proud look. Sitting with legs crossed and leaned forward.

“Cougar”, she jabbed. 

You knew you weren’t getting any sleep. You’d have to tell her every detail. Or else. 

.˚ · • . ° .

Though Itadori had taken you out another couple of times, and gotten more brazen, holding your hand when walking through the city and thru the last Tokyo attraction you’d both had been too, he also saw how much more flustered you’d become. You never pulled away, never stopped him when he hugged you, or put an arm around your shoulders. You just flushed and looked away, peeking over at him and quickly look away again. You realized that the others had also picked up on how you and Yuji were subconsciously flirting. 

Panda had already teased you about it, which Yuji had noticed, but you huffed and took your leave for a shower. Panda then teased him about, “oii, Yuji~ what do you prefer? Boobs or butts!” He probably choked before he even picked. Panda snickering before patting his shoulder, “come on, don’t be shy~!” The smug grin on the cursed corpse edging Yuji to answer.

He thought deeply, he wouldn’t lie, he did like a plump, round “-butt.” His senpai huffed pervertedly, chuckling while patting on his lower classmen’s shoulders. 

You had left and Yuji, would have lied if he said that he didn’t watch you walk away. 

He’d wait for you, however long it takes. There was something there, and he’d wait. But for now, he’d focus on getting stronger. 

So for the rest of the afternoon, He’d train,with Gojo….

-After a couple days. (You and Maki and Nobara were sitting in a park, with your speakers, exploring American music.)

During a training break where he sat on the floor, watching panda and Toge train now as Megumi went to get some drinks. He spaced out for a moment, thinking of you, and that sun dress you had worn a few days back, going for a food run, to which he invited himself too. The mini fridge wouldn’t stock itself. And besides, you weren’t really allowed to leave the grounds of the school on your own, due to your curse and all. But mostly because it was Gojo’s request, so you were totally okay with him tagging along. 

He watched the way your skin, that was usually unexposed, drank up the sun from the early summer days. The way your legs glimmered, they looked so soft. He wondered what else was soft- His train of thought was thankfully stopped by the ringing of a phone next to him and to his surprise it wasn’t his own. When he glanced down, the caller ID was Nobara and he assumed the phone belonged to Megumi. But what he was greeted with, took him by surprise:

Y: Hey Nobara, Megumi’s in the bathroom-

N: (nobara speaking) Oh come on, between the three of us, you’re telling me you’re not getting any action? Even with Yuji floating around you like that? 

He heard all three of you giggle. And he swore he was going to hang up, but the conversation kept peeking his interest. *especially since he heard his name….

N: ((y/n) speaking) It’s nothing like that, Itadori is better off keeping his distance. I’m the one being selfish. Besides, if we ever get to that point, I might never be able to look at him again if he’s affected by me. 

You sighed and turned on some English music. It was clear that Nobara had either did this on purpose or butt dialed Megumi by an accident. 

N: (Maki speaking) Don’t try and to act innocent you cougar, (y/n) is just afraid that he’ll either be the best experience she’s had in bed, or just the same as the rest. 

Nobara tried to stifle her laugh, unsuccessfully. And at this moment, Yuji thought he felt guilty for listening, but he knew himself better than that.

N: ((y/n) speaking) MAKI! Don’t embarrass me like this! I’m only a year older than him! BESIDES, even if I did imagine something happening between us, at the end of the day, sooner or later, he’ll grow to resent me the more his body is exposed to my cursed energy.

You sighed, getting quiet again. Itadori felt his chest heaving, turning to make sure Megumi was no where near. 

N: (Nobara speaking) Oh come on, Yuji is too soft to ever do something like that. You should know how he is, I don’t think he has a bone in his body with malice. He more of a walking airhead.

There was a pause, only the strange English music that Yuji was printing into the back of his mind to search up and add to your playlist he created. He never wanted to forget the next words that escape your mouth through the phone. 

N: ((y/n) speaking) You’re right, I can’t change how I feel, and I can’t change the strange feeling that something bad will happen. I’m sure Maki will flick my forehead for this - there was a pair of chuckles - I’ll just be selfish for as long as I can and let him decide. I am still his favorite senpai~

With that- he hung up the phone call, his fluttering heart and burning ears under the warm sun not allowing him to to listen to another word, without exploding.

He placed the phone down and pulled out his own, rushing to the search engine on his own phone, writing down the few lyrics he understood in hopes of finding the song that would only serve to further drive his desires and hopes. 

“Sunburn by The LivingTombstone.” He murmured as he was successful in finding it. His friend passed him a water bottle, silent as he sat down. Yuji- still flustered by everything he had heard slowly grasped it. “Ah, thanks a lot Megumi.” Though Yuji felt that he was thanking his friend for more than the water bottle that he guzzled down. 

Megumi thought Yuji had lost his mind when he threw the rest of the water he didn’t drink on top of his head, it soaked through his hair and trickled down his temple to his chin. 

.˚ · • . ° .

By the end of the day, he had memorized the strange tune from the song that he had no idea what they were saying. He also hadn’t heard the song playing on your speaker, or phone when the two of you were together. His eyebrows knitted together as he laid in bed staring at the song, the wonderful graphics of the animated music video. After it played for about the 7th time, he looked up the lyrics translated in Japanese and his heart started swooning. 

Turning to lay on his toned chest, digging his face in his pillow as he shut his eyes. Highschool crushes were the worst, they had a way of pulling the strangest reactions from you, the only thing in the world that made Yuji feel like he had to hold on to this one thing with the strongest grip in the world. So he wouldn’t loose you like he had lost so many others, he tried his best to ignore Sukuna and his quips about how he pursuit was futile. How you’d grow tired of his insistence sooner or later. 

All his focus was on the lyrics that caught his attention, the words swirling around and pulling his heart with it. 

“I’m losing myself. You smile, and I get sunburn.” 

He hoped that this song was recently added to your playlist after meeting him. He prayed to whoever was listening, that this was how you felt about him, and only him. 

[stonemags]

SUGAR BABY AU

Ch.4 Leeway

Characters in this series: Reader, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Carol Danvers, Darcy Lewis, Maria Hill, Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts, Valkyrie, Shuri

Summary: As a good friend you are responsible for people closest to you, right? But can you handle it all at once? For now, your friends are a priority.

Warnings: age gap relationships, sugar mommy/sugar baby relationships, swearing, aggression, cheating, all story is gonna be +18, you are responsible for your own ass. 

Word count: 6556

A/N: This chapter took a while and im greatfull for all your patience. This story is a proces and i go through it while writing, it growns on me with every sentance and page. Im happy i can share it with you. All ideas, theories, comments are welcome. Dont steal or claim my stuff as yours or im going to bite your ass off. Enjoy!

As always thanks to @charturnus for editing, helping to write and posting this fic. It wouldn't be here without you.

Previous chapter

CHAPTER 4

The next morning. You find Darcy occupied with her phone, laughing at something and scrolling down TikTok. You can tell which side of the platform she is on, and you smile under your breath, hearing the “woooo I’m mentally ill” sound, that both of you love. You gather yourself and enter the living room. You feel guilty, it wasn't right for you to speak to her this way, or say those things. Your opinions should never get between you and your friends, no matter what they do. God, you would help them bury a body without a question, why would you be a bitch about the way they decide to go in their life. That's not your place to say so, and you see it now, after a mostly sleepless night. You need to set things right, you need to apologize. You need to-

“Is this one of your ADHD things, when you just stand in the middle of the room and have a full-on conversation with yourself?” Darcy's voice breaks you out of your reverie, and you look at her with shocked eyes. You get lost sometimes. I guess it was one of those moments. 

“Yeah… I haven't taken my meds yet. Sorry about that.” You hang your head down and move closer to the couch that is occupied by Darcy and at least 5 blankets. Why would anybody need 5 blankets on one couch? It's not even that cold. Yes, it's November, but still, it's pretty warm for this time of the year.

“You are doing it again.” This time she touches your shoulder to bring you out and ground you, in reality a little bit more.

“Shit, sorry.”

“It's okay, what's bothering you?” She knows what, of course, she knows. The whole argument happened not more than 7 hours ago. God, you don't deserve her. 

“Darcy…. About yesterday…” You start fidgeting with your hands. Clearly uncomfortable, you are being eaten up from the inside by guilt. The fuzzy blanket that you are sitting on provides comfort with its texture. 

“About yesterday… I…”

“I know.” And you know she does, but she needs to hear it. You turn to the side to look at her, taking her hand into yours. You two were never touchy with each other. This is the kind of friendship where you would rather die than hug your friend, but you still would die for her in seconds. The older you two got, the closer you were, and the relationship between you two is far more mature now, you both are. 

“Still, even if you do, it wasn't acceptable for me to say those things. I don't have the knowledge of how it looks from your side. I have my own issues, I shouldn’t put that on you or attack you because of them. It wasn't right, and it won't happen again. I'm not going to judge any of you and if I'm going to be confused about anything I'm just going to ask. I was ignorant, angry, tired and rude. Nothing excuses my behaviour. I'm sorry Darcy.” 

She shifts her position and gets really close to you. You feel her arms around your neck and her face hidden in the crook of your neck. She feels warm, like home or fireplace, like the fuzzy blanket under your palm providing you with comfort. It takes you a second, but you practically scoop her up in your arms, hiding her even more in your chest. You stay like that for a little while and once you start pulling away you feel her grabbing you tighter. You don't let go.

“I'm sorry too.” You want to interrupt her, tell her that there is nothing to apologize for, that you were in the wrong, but she speaks again. 

“I said some shitty stuff yesterday. I don't want to talk to you that way. Even if I was a little bit right.” you both laugh at it, and the world gets a little lighter. The heavy feeling on your shoulders, it's always there, it always lingers, but now you don't carry it by yourself. When you finally pull apart, both of your eyes are a little bit glassy, you both notice it, but nobody will say anything. 

“You need to repay me, though. For the things you said.” Of course. You know that she is just using the situation and that you are actually forgiven, but you play the game either way.

“You have one wish. Shoot.”

“And no saying no?”

“No saying no.” 

“I'm going to set you up on a date. And before you interrupt me…”  You were actually going to interrupt her. 

“You have to be there for at least 30 minutes, and then I'm not going to set you up with anyone ever again.”

“Deal.” She looks at you like you’re dumb. This kind of look that tells you she is not done. You take a dramatic breath in.

“What else…?” She smiles and as much as you will never admit it, you want her happy. 

“Today Carol is having a small party with clients, friends, and business partners. It’s Bridgerton themed. You are going to be there, and you are going to like it. And no, you don't have to be there from the start, I know how you feel about all these business conversations. The party starts around 6pm and is going to last till 11pm at least. After that it's just going to be us, Maria, Kate, Pepper, Carol, Natasha and Wanda.” Hearing the last two names pulls a reaction from you. It’s one of the most dramatic eye rolls you've ever done. Darcy is laughing at you at this point, and you can't help but join her. You are not happy about any of that, but at the same time, you owe it to her.

“Yes ma’am.” The blanket beneath your fingers becomes overwhelming, so you start playing with your rings. 

“Good girl, now go because you have classes in half an hour.” She cares, and that's one of the ways she shows you that she does.

“Also, don't worry about your regency outfit! I’ve already taken care of it.” Your best friend tells you, not moving from the couch, as you stand up to take care of breakfast. She really gets on your nerves sometimes, but to be honest, you didn't even think about the outfit. You are grateful, even if it’s her that put you in this situation.

“Actually, I’m not going to uni today.” That's shocking news for her, and you get why she is surprised. 

“I also called off my shift at the bar.” Well that's a double shock, and it's surprising that she can take it. She gets off the couch and walks up to you, checking your temperature.

“Are you sick? Wait, you’re not dying, are you?” You love that dramatic bitch. 

“No, actually, we need to call a family meeting today.” 

‘’Oh,’’ Darcy breathes, realizing that the situation is serious. Only a few times before the meeting was called, this was the day Carol was introduced to all of you, or when Maria finally came out. This is an emergency only situation, and you are pretty sure that this one is justified. 

“Wait, family meeting? Someone died?” Maria’s sleepy voice flows through the room. Her hair is messy. Her silk robe flows nicely around her body. You always admired her confidence, and she is surprisingly kind for such an attractive person. Her hair is freshly cut, shoulder-length is the most comfortable for her, at least that's what she always says when they get too long. You like that about her, the way she knows what she wants, when and how. Even more, you don't understand why she would give control to anyone else. 

“Nobody died. Kate’s home?” You say. 

“Yeah, she came back around 4am.” Darcy's answer is followed by a big yawn. All of you can use a break today, and a little bit more sleep. 

‘’Could you please wake Kate up?’’ You say, turning to Maria. 

‘’I’ll get started on pancakes in the meantime.’’

She moves from her spot by the door and hurries to Kate's room. It's not going to be easy, but the longer you are putting off the conversation, the harder it's going to get. 

Preparing breakfast takes you little to no time, everything always goes by fast when you have Darcy on your side. You two work in perfect harmony, managing to cook, set up the table and even squeeze fresh orange juice for all of you. The scent of sweet citrus filled the whole room, bright sunlight falls aggressively through ajar blinds. Crispy air hits you as you move to close the window, trying to get rid of the burned smell of the last failed pancake. You are still going to eat it, you hate wasting food. 

Darcy is on your right, sitting cross-legged on a high chair with a messy bun and an oversized sweater stolen from Carol. She looks peaceful and warm. Maria sits half naked in front of you. She is always really comfortable in her own skin and it shows. Long pyjama pants and a bra are her go to outfits in the morning. It suits her. When Kate comes out of her room, the first thing that you acknowledge is her wet hair, indicating she just had a shower and dark circles under her eyes. She moves smoothly closer to where you all wait for her and as she moves behind you, she stops in her tracks for a second to wrap her arms around your torso from behind. She hides her head in the crook of your neck, and all you can do is put your hand smoothly through her hair, hugging her closer with one arm. 

“I missed you.” She whispers just for you to hear, and you feel tiredness and pain of the past busy weeks in her voice. It fills you with love, care but also anger for not being able to change it for her, or rather respecting the peace she chooses to live her life on. She needs to learn, and you will be here to catch her if she falls. And that's exactly why family meetings are so needed. 

“I missed you too, hun.” Her smile makes you happy and breaks your heart at the same time. You have been in situations when someone was trying to open your eyes, and you were taking out anger and pain on the messenger. Honestly, there is nothing she could do to push you away, but you know some part of her will hate you after this. 

“So what's the family meeting about? It sounds serious, you even took a day off.” 

“Let's just eat for now. We're gonna talk later.” 

****

You wash the dishes after breakfast while girls talk with each other on the couch. They offered to clean, but you needed a second for yourself to muster up the courage to tell her the truth. Giving yourself time is needed, but also creates moments like this. Wet sponge in your right hand, plate in your left, and your phone laying heavy in your pocket with evidence. You feel it digging into your leg through the material, kind of like pushing you to stop procrastinating the inevitable, so you do. 

You sit down on an ottoman that matches the rest of the couch set and as you sigh heavily, all the attention is drawn to you. Nobody’s rushing you to open up, it's one of the many rules of the meetings. They all wait for you, ready to provide comfort at all times. You lock your eyes with Kate’s, and as you almost always keep your posture and face up, your eyes water up a little, but not enough for them to notice. 

“Go on y/n. Lay it on me.” She is the youngest of all of you, but sometimes she is more mature than all of you combined. 

“Valkyrie is cheating on you.” You can see in her eyes that she thinks it's a joke, another dumb idea of yours to separate the two of them because you don't think her girlfriend deserves her, so you continue. 

“I was at the bar, had my shift with Steve, she was there. There was a whole group of people, God, all of them drunk out of their minds. She came to me and told me that you’re not texting her back. She wasn't too nice about it.” You take a deep breath in and grab anything you have close to you to stop yourself from standing up and pacing around the room. The plastic scrunchie provides some stimulation, so you look at her again. 

“At some point, she started kissing some girl that was in that group. I don't even know if they know each other.” Kate just listens, not taking her eyes off of you. You notice her lips quivering a little, but it's so slight that you’ve almost missed it. 

“Shuri was there, she can vouch for this.” 

“Wait, you saw your ex!?” Darcy jumps in but back off as soon as she can catch herself going off-topic, that's not important right now and she knows it. 

“Show me.” Two words you hoped you wouldn't hear. Speaking about it is one thing, but seeing it with her own eyes will be different. As the last resort, you try to play dumb, pretending not to know what she means.

“This is far too important for you not to have the proof. Just show me y/n, I’m a big girl.” So you do. When you hand her the phone, it’s already opened in your gallery. It's the last thing you recorded. The video starts with Shuri drinking her martini and talking to you about something happening at her university. However, as soon as you zoom into the group, she falls silent. 

‘’Oh fuck,’’ The girls can hear Shuri swearing, combined with your heavy breathing through the speaker in your phone. The scene ends with Valkyrie standing up and dragging the girl behind her into the bathroom area and Shuri’s voice saying “y/n don't do it”. 

“What did you do?” Maria asks what everybody is wondering. You answer her question, but all you say is for Kate and only for her. 

“I didn't do anything. I ended my shift and went home.” She believes you, you are always honest with her, always. 

“I wanted to tell you right after, but this is not something to do over the phone. Maybe I should have just found you at your job, I'm sorry but-” She's interrupting your explanation with the softest voice she has.

“It's okay, I know you are more of a face to face person.” The scrunchie is long forgotten on the floor, and Kate's hands are secured strongly in yours. You caress her palm with your thumb, providing as much comfort through the touch as you can, but she leans back on the couch. You expected anger, sadness, a breakdown or denial, but not this. 

“I mean, she was awful either way, right?” Both Darcy and Maria jump in with copious nodding and approval of that statement. 

“I guess it's for the better, at least I have a good reason to end it now.” With that she…. smiles? Something is wrong, something is very wrong. 

For the next 5 minutes your roommates rumble about how awful Val is, how much better Kate will be without her and how happy they are that she feels that way. Kate jumps in from time to time, smiling and telling them how right they are, and that's when you can't take it anymore. You start laughing, and it takes everybody off guard, to be honest it takes you off guard too. You don't explain anything to anybody as you stand up, take your hurt friend by her hand, and announce that you will be back in a couple of hours for dinner. You are much stronger than Kate, so manhandling her a little into her room is easy. 

“Get dressed, put some training clothes on and take your wallet. I'm taking your car keys, and I'm waiting for you in the car park. Don't make me wait too long.”

“Y/n I’m fine! What are you even doing? I don't understand.” You hug her really close, face buried in your chest, her arms hanging loose on her sides not really knowing what to do with them, but even when she’s not reciprocating you don’t let her go. Your left hand goes all the way around her waist, grabbing her side, while the right hand keeps her head close to you. Your touch feels hungry for closeness with her, while you almost shield her whole body with yours. When you let go, you grab her face into your hands, look deeply into her glassy eyes and smile with the most honest love you ever felt to someone. This kind of love is different from anything else you ever had. You imagine that's the way your brother feels when he looks at you. At least he did when you were younger. 

“You’re not Kate. And it's okay.” You kiss her forehead and tell her once again to get ready before you disappear from her room. 

*** 

The ride to the location takes you around 25 minutes. The whole trip, Kate is trying to get you to tell her where you’re going or what this whole thing is about, but you keep your mouth shut, which makes her more irritated by the minute. It's good, you need her to be irritated, you need her to be mad, and soon enough everything will become clear to why. 

You arrive at a big open space with one building that's in poor condition. Vines have taken over its walls, invading cement and binding everything together with nature. It’s a truly beautiful view if you can just stop for a second and try to understand what's in front of you. It's far, it's quiet, and it's your safe space, one of just the few that you have. You get out of the car, still not answering Kate's questions. She makes it harder for herself and as much as you get why she is doing it, you wish she would stop. 

“What's that place? It looks like a squat.” She comments, and she sounds unnecessarily annoyed.

“This is a place where me and Shuri were meeting for most of the time. It's a safe place and a safe space.”

“Safe for what?”

“To be yourself.” 

Your answer takes her a little bit off guard, you can see by the appearing wrinkles on her forehead that she really thinks about what you just said, and hopefully she will find some truth for herself in your words. She follows you into the building, you take out a bundle of keys, which is definitely too big, you don't even remember what half of them are for, you are pretty sure that some of them were found around here, never finding out their purpose, but the one that you need right now is easy to find. The red band on top of it makes it easy to spot. The word ‘’sanctuary’’ is hand-painted onto the key, and it fills you with warmth and gratitude that your last relationship ended up on good terms. You really appreciate having Shuri in your life, her and her family were nothing but good people to you, and you are glad to reciprocate anytime you can. You open a heavy looking lock and enter the building with Kate on your heels. 

Inside it is really dark and scary looking, dust covers the floors, and various types of glass, wood and all kinds of materials can be found on the side of every wall. Used spray paint cans decorate one corner, making the whole place more alive because of their colours. They also create a nice contrast to the surrounding chaos. All cans are securely stacked in a pyramid shape. A skylight lights up the middle of the room in a theatrical way. You love this place to the bone. 

As Kate looks around with a little disgust on her face she tries to appreciate you getting her out of the house, you collect some things from the locker and close it with a metallic clang. 

“Here,” you say into her direction, getting closer to her with two jumpsuits in hand. She looks surprised, but gets the general idea of what you want from her. She is obliging even if she is not fully sure why you are both here, she’s too shaken up to put it all together. Putting on a brave face is one of her greatest strengths and weaknesses, but you know every little piece of her. At least most of them. 

You start undressing while Kate is half ready with her suit on, you were always impressed with her physique. She’s the one who motivated you to go to the gym, taking you with her a couple of times gave you the kick-start that you needed to go on your own, you are grateful for that, not sure that she is aware of it. As you take off your shirt, you don't notice Kate's eyes lingering on your body. You are muscular it's hard not to be after putting so much work in at the gym, her eyes are tracing the tattoos on your body, from your legs up. You’re  turned away from her, so she has a perfect view of your wide back. She isn’t sure why she’s staring, but it seems natural to do so, so she lets herself. As you turn around to face her, you zip up the suit to your waist, looking for a shirt you took with you. You don't want to ruin your nice clothes, that's why you asked Kate to pack something up herself as well. You look at her. She seems to be stuck for a moment, and her face is red.

“Are you okay?” You reach out to her, worried that she might be on the verge of crying because of her breakup, unaware that the reason for her state is completely different. Kate on the other hand is trying to understand what's happening to her. Nobody was ever as sweet to her as you, so protective and caring. Nobody held her like you do, nobody was interested in her in the way you are. In the beginning she was trying to figure out if that's your way of hitting on her, but after she got to know you a little bit she understood that it's just your nature. It didn't change the fact that she always feels special when you act protective over her or caring in any way. Late night texts telling her to get home safe, to remember about lunch, calling her love. Or just simply sitting down together and letting her talk while you listen. Just the way you let her be with you is enough to get some ideas in her head. She has been questioning for a long time now if she is attracted to you, but even if the answer is yes, your relationship has always been platonic, and she is aware of that. 

“Yes, yes I am. Dress up, or you're going to get sick.” She stops the topic before you can ask her more questions, not wanting to fall into a hot mess in front of you. 

After you both get dressed and leave your stuff secured in the locker, just in case, you take Kate's hand and tell her to follow you. Her palm is soft but cold to the touch, instinctively you start to rub her hand with your thumb to warm it up and comfort her a little, sensing her nervousness. She’s still playing with her hands, grabbing onto her jewellery and loose strands of fabric fraying off of the partially torn jumpsuit. Your touch seems to bring her a little bit more back into the present. You can hear her taking a big breath in when you soothe her hand, and it seems like her arms are starting to relax a little. 

You moved further into the building, which leaves you in front of a massive, heavy looking reinforced door. Something straight out of the teen wolf series. As you open them, you are both hit with too much sunlight coming out of the skylights. Your eyes take a second to adjust and get past the sting of it, Kate tries to blink the pain away too. As soon as her vision is clear, she gets what all of this is about, and she doesn't know how to feel about it. 

“Wha…what? Y/n I don't think it's necessary.” She comments as soon as she sees a table covered in lots of different kinds of mugs, plates, dishes, boxes and bottles. It's warmer here than anywhere else in the building, probably because of the sun coming through the windows. She understands now why the doors are so thick. She waits for your answer, but you leave her in silence. You move to the deep right corner of the room and grab two aluminium bats and two helmets secured in the covered box. Your weapon is strictly for looks, you are not going to participate in breaking today, this day is all about Kate and you need to focus on her. 

“Take it.” She shakes her head, refusing to do so. 

“Kate, take it, please.” She does see that you are being really serious about it. It feels heavy in her hands at first, but her muscle memory is trained on such a good level that it takes her just a minute to get used to the handle and balance of the bat. 

“I don't need it. I know you think I'm sad and heartbroken but I'm not, okay?  It's for the best and we both know it yn.” She pleads with you, it all seems really unnecessary for her. 

“Kate..” you come close to her and put  your free hand on her cheek. “ You are heartbroken, you are tired and you are sad, but most of all you are angry. I can see you holding your fist together every time someone mentions your mother.” Exactly the thing she does as soon as the words leave your mouth. “ I know that you feel betrayed by Val, it doesn't matter if you loved her or not. She abused you for so long, just as your mother. Dont hate me for it but I think you chose her for a reason.” She looks at you not believing your words, and takes a step back. Her eyes ask you what you mean by that and you know she felt a sting because of your assumption. You straighten out your posture and keep going, gambling your friendship in the name of her sanity. 

“You have been controlled since your father died.”

“Stop.” Her voice is low but the tone of it is threatening.

“Your mother uses you as her personal project, to be honest I'm not sure if she was ever a real mother to you.” You continue not letting yourself back up no matter what. She needs this.

“I said stop.” Her voice is louder letting emotions take over a little.

“ Were you saying stop when Val hit you? Or when she was pouring alcohol in your system so she could take advantage of you? You didn’t deserve any of this” She is crying at this point and it pains you to see.

“All those times I was picking you up from her apartment seeing a new bruise on you, all those times when you got hell from your mother or from your girlfriend because you had to choose one and there were no other options in your life. This is not love Kate, it never was.” 

“Nobody asked you to take care of me!!” She is screaming now and you decided to match her energy. 

“BUT I DID! I was cleaning the fucking cuts, i was holding the ice bags and i had to watch you being broken everyday! I had to restrain myself of fucking her up everyday because of your feeling towards her!” Kate never knew about this, so that information is shocking, her head unfortunately for both of you took a defensive state so everything you say is taken personal. !!!

“ If that was such a fucking issue for you you could’ve just told me! I would never ask you for help if I knew!’ The bat in her hand is flying around, she always uses her hands while speaking so it's normal, in this situation though it's a little dangerous. 

“It's not about me ! Its about you Kate, about people fucking you over and over again and you allowing them. It's about the fact that you are angry and you don't let yourself go!”

“I'M NOT ANGRY. I'M IN PAIN! AND THEY’VE PUT ME THERE” With that she delivers a first hit to the stack of plates. It's not in the center so plates end up falling from the table while  breaking a couple of them. It's hard to aim when your face is covered in tears. You grab her arm before she can do a second strike stopping her mid flight. She tries to get out of your hold pushing you away with her other arm but you are one step ahead and you let go of your bat to grab both of her hands. You take her into a strong embrace letting her totally break down in tears. She cries, and it sounds like something she loved, someone she loves has died, maybe a part of her. Her voice is broken and you can hear her asking why, while you drop with her to the floor not letting go for even a second. She is still fighting to get out of your arms but you know that she is not fighting with you. You put your hand on her head closing any space left between you and you try to calm her crying a bit.

“I got you Kate… I'm right here with you, I'm not leaving…. ever. You can let go… just let go, I'm holding you.” And she does. She lets go of all the pain she feels at the moment, lots of memories coming back to her in a big feeling of chaos. It is hard for her to focus on one feeling, one problem, one pain so she grabs on to you tighter trying to ground herself in your touch. She starts paying attention to your fingers tracing patterns on her back, on your breathing being slow and deep and she tries to match it the best she can with her own. She focuses on the vibrations she can feel on her head that are coming from you humming her favorite melody. She finds peace in it and after a little while she slowly lets go of you to take a deep breath in and look at your face. You smile at her with the most genuine smile that she ever saw. 

“Why are you so happy?” She is teasing you, you know she is.

“Because I'm proud of you Katie… so proud.” Your voice is low and soft, like the silence after the storm, like the moment when the rain stops falling abruptly after ripping the sky open with its force. 

You help her stand up and that's the exact moment that she sees blood on your face. Her breath hitches while she points at your cheek. You touch the place and realize that while she hit the plates one piece of them got stuck in your skin. You take it out with almost no force and wipe already dried blood off of you. 

“That's why we wear helmets.” You pick up the gear that was left on the floor, and help her put it safely on her head. After doing the same you hand her a bat and let her have an outlet for all of the forgotten feelings hidden inside of her for so long. Sounds are loud, rapid but so satisfying. Pieces of glass are landing on the walls, the floor and your clothing. At first she was shy with her hits, but you can see that she got more comfortable with the whole idea and actually put some work into it. You hold your cold bat in your left hand, it's only a prop, because today it's about Kate…. today is about Kate yn… You tell yourself trying to suppress any emotions you might have with this whole situation. Stacks of beer glasses seem to have your name written all over them. The bat you are holding gets a little bit heavier in your hand when you tighten your fist around it. Your veins become visible because of the pressure and your eyes are focused on the target, never looking away from it but holding yourself back as much as you can. Just when you start to feel yourself going into emotions, all of the glasses break in front of your eyes. A big hit delivered by Kate crashes them into pieces and powder, and with that she says that it's the last one that she needed. It brings you back out of your head and you nod at her, pointing to the door. 

After leaving the room you give some time for Kate to change into her clothes while you are sweeping the floor to make it nice and tidy, mainly safe. You put down all the equipment and as you move into the room with a locker you can hear Kate humming the same melody you were trying to calm her down with. It warms you from the inside, the fact that you understand her and she trusts you enough to show you the most raw parts of herself. While you change Kate decided to look around some other rooms in the building. Some of them are holding more stuff to break, some of them have camping equipment, making her acknowledge that you probably spend some nights here. As you catch up to her you see that she found one of the most important places for you. The biggest room in this whole building has two chairs in the middle of it and 5 plastic boxes on the right side of it. Chairs are facing one wall, a wall covered in graffiti, with big sentences written in the middle of it. You lean on the entrance while Kate is trying to take it all in. 

“What's that? Ver- Verba Vo…” “Verba Volant Scripta Manent. Spoken words fly away, written words remain.” You explain to her, trying to get her to understand what this place is about. “And what's all over that?” “All the reasons why me and Shuri were coming here. Tony Stark, Loki, work, even when I was arguing with you guys.” You laugh a little at the memory. “Even your mom.” You see her go closer to the wall as she eyes your mothers name written on the wall in the most chaotic way she ever saw. She puts her hand on the cold concrete and touches it lightly, collecting some dirt on her fingers by accident. She doesn't seem to care though. She turns with glossy eyes to look at you and a second later you are holding her in your arms. She is not angry anymore, but sad. Tears flow out while you hold her and allow her to feel all the emotions at once. She doesn't have to pretend with you, she never should. She lets you go and look at your face. Her cold hand lands on your cheek as she is trying to take care of you, leaving some of the dirt on your skin. It throws you off guard for a second because you didn't realize you were crying with her. As soon as you do you whip off the tears that escaped and hand her spray can from one of the plastic boxes.

“Write Katie, everything that's on your shoulders, write it out of you. It will stay here, and you will move on without it.” “Verba Volant Scripta Manent.” She repeats your mantra butchering latin pronunciation, making you laugh. 

“Exactly.” You give her a nod and encourage her to start letting go of all the things that are in her heart. She is a little shy at first but gets a hold of it really quickly. She writes dates, names, words like work, comfort, cheating, fear. With each word she seems to be lighter and you enjoy the view. Carefully she writes everything down avoiding your drawing, your motto, which you really appreciate. As she finishes her work she takes a couple of steps back and enjoys the art of it. You join her, kiss the top of her head and take out of the box the last can, red one to put one last statement. She watches you really carefully as you go to her part of the wall and above everything she has written, you spray a big red word, saying “Rebirth”. As you turn around, a little bit dirty and tired, you feel happiness filling you in as she is smiling at you, in a way you haven't seen in a long time. 

After closing up everything and making sure that the whole place is secured and tidy you make your way to the car. Kate is surprised to see an emotional hangover setup at the back of her car. Bottle of water, her favorite snack and tissues waiting for her, set down with love and care. It always amazes her how you can think in the future. There were countless situations in both your lifes when something unusual, tragic or just really out of nowhere came up and you are always ready for it. At least you seem to be. You are not talking much to each other while going back, no words needed between both of you. Kate can sense that it took a hold on you too so she provides comfort by playing with your hair on the back of your neck while you drive. 

“I texted her.” Kates breaks the silence for a second, her voice barely above whisper. 

“What did you say?” 

“I broke up with her, I officially ended it, and I blocked her.” You put your hand on hers, letting her know you are right next to her. She expected you to be happy but you were always better for her then she anticipated.

“And how do you feel about it?” You ask tenderly. 

“It hurts… I know she wasn't good, she never was, but she meant a lot and it… it just hurts.” You nod your head waiting for her to continue, giving all the space she might need. 

“ But it's going to heal, and as much as it pains me I also feel lighter. I need it. Thank you yn, for everything.” She interviews her fingers with yours and allows silence to take over, leaving you both in each other's comfort. 

Next chapter

───⋆☆────────────────⋆☆────────────────⋆☆─── tag list : @autorasexy @lizziejolsen @natashaswife4125 @sayah13 @romanoffskisser @lijo-8 @jjiiuuisssagcebrcw @natashaswife4125 @dumbassbitchwithnotits @teenybean, @marvelwomen-simp, @ripofflizzie