#just setting in that I'm going to be onto the next chapter of my life in 20 days

[florafight]

.

[stxrvel]

the one where you stood there and watched (4)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. THIS IS EDITED!! there are new scenes!! 16/9. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! sadness, lots of mixed feelings, self-hatred, flashbacks, flashbacks. a/n. hi guysssssssssss. its been a while, i know and im so sorry. i hope this chapter doesn't feel too rushed. truth be told, between life issues and that i've been having trouble with inspiration for scenes it took me a while to build this, but surprisingly i'm pleased with the result. now, where do you think we're going and what will we do from here on out?????? surprises come, surprises go. thank you all for your continued support!! i really appreciate the feedback from all of you and reading your comments makes my days. for those who are still here, thank you. see you next time!

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments that kept your hair standing on end every so often or every time you remembered. They were like gaps, things you didn't know how they had gotten there, how they had happened, or how someone else knew. And you were accumulating them, suspicious, somewhat delusional and paranoid if you asked anyone, but they were held in that space in the back of your head waiting for the right moment to come out.

Between moments of lucidity and memories of the past, there were many things you had superficially let slip by.

Yuna was in front of you, her brow furrowed in concentration and her eyes almost square from the amount of time she had already spent in front of the computer. You had been at it all day, so the moment your friend appeared like it was her own living room and everyone acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary, you just plopped down on the couch with a calm expression, waiting for the perfect moment to let certain things out, to ask certain questions.

There were moments of enlightenment, there were moments of brilliant discoveries. And that day you had discovered something you had forgotten because of the brevity of its recognition, but in retrospect it was something worth knowing, even if there were still too many things, more important things, of which you were ignorant. At that moment, all gathered in the living room of your parents' house, the most important thing was what was on your mind.

“Yuna.”

Your friend barely shook her head in acknowledgement of her name. Your parents were arranging the table in the middle of the couches to settle lunch, surely a big feast like every other day for the past few days and the only reason Seojun took virtual classes that day, and your brother was ogling the dishes with his mouth ajar. Eugh.

But none of them were paying too much attention. Food, social media, ordering, direct messaging, arranging the geometrically correct dishes… everyone had their heads in their own world, and that's why you could hear the moment your father's hair touched the ground when you asked:

“You were the one who set up my book booth at the last convention?”

Four pairs of eyes bore into you.

“What?”

You looked at her expectantly, not letting the mischief interfere with your plans.

“No…! I didn't-I mean, what are you talking about?”

Yuna let out a nervous laugh, just after correcting herself when she got a blunt look from your mother. Your father stood stiffly behind his wife, the frying pan in his hands wobbling so clearly that a few drops of the soup dripped onto the wood of the floor. Your mother leaned over, leaving the plate she was carrying on the table, sending Seojun a look that caused him to swallow his saliva sonorously.

The scene was so comical that you really had a hard time not bursting out laughing.

“It's just that when I talked to Sol this morning she commented something…”

You let the words hover in the air, straining them each time it came to one of them. Yuna straightened up, completely forgetting about the computer for a second, peeling her back off the couch where she was leaning on the floor. Your father snorted in surprise so hard that he was attacked by a cough and your mother had to take the frying pan away from him before he watered down all the soup from all the shaking. Seojun hid behind your mother's legs and you just plopped down on the couch, stretching your legs over the armrest, satisfied with their reactions.

“And what did she say to you, honey?”

Your mother was the most composed, finishing arranging the dishes around the pan while your father had run out to the living room for a glass of water. Among the foursome, your mother was the only one who truly knew what dissimulation meant. You had no doubt that her sisterhood with the others in the room would end once you told them you already knew everything.

“She told me she was afraid I hadn't been able to see what you had done for me,” you frowned looking up at the ceiling, looking genuinely confused. “And it was weird, because we were talking about the last convention.”

Yuna let out a laugh, incredulous.

“And why would you be talking about that with Sol?”

Putting the antics aside, you stood up on your forearms and glared at her.

“Why did you do that?”

“What did I do?”

“Sol told me it was your idea.”

“That's not true!”

“Ah…” you held a hand to your forehead, as if you had just remembered something important. Your gaze swept around the room and Seojun cringed when your eyes landed on him. “True. She said it had been your idea.”

Before Yuna could send a warning glance at your brother, Seojun raised his hand and pointed at your friend, exclaiming:

“It was her idea! It was all Yuna's idea! Tell her mom!”

The two aforementioned closed their eyes, taking a deep breath and bringing their fingers to the bridge of their noses. Their expressions of ennui were unmatched and promptly Seojun was cringing for a completely different reason.

“You're such a jerk,” Yuna mumbled, almost barking in the direction of the poor man seeking to escape his mother's lethal gaze. Instantly, your friend turned her gaze in your direction, meeting that amused look that curled her annoyance just for a millisecond. “I thought you'd be more upset.”

“I was,” you lifted a shoulder, leaning back against the back of the couch as you listened to the string of scoldings your mom was in between yelling and whispering to your brother. “But it's impossible not to see reason when you're talking to someone like Sol.

Yuna also nodded in consideration. It was something that, not just the two of you, but all of Sol's workers agreed with. Sol had a warmth about her, a homely feel to her that made you automatically trust her and take it for granted that, if she told you everything would work out, it was because it would; whether it was by chance of the universe or because she would see to it that it did.

“Then it was a good thing you heard it from her mouth and not your inept brother's,” Yuna sent her another withering glare and you couldn't help the smile that twitched your corners as you watched your mother move the bowl of tteokbokki away from her grasp. It was so funny to see that he didn't always get the baby of the house treatment for a change.

“Were you planning on taking that to your grave?”

Yuna turned, arching her eyebrows. With her lips set in a thin line, you knew she was thinking about choosing the right words to answer you, even though that thing they'd done had led directly to the fact that, at that moment, you'd been able to afford the luxury of asking for vacation for the first time and focusing on what you truly loved to do. Even if they had worked behind your back, the result had not been so fatal.

If you took a few unwanted people out of the equation, that is.

Your friend finally softened her gaze.

“No, I knew you'd find out at some point. From whoever's mouth. A secret can only be kept from so many people.” Yuna rolled her eyes, moving to listen to your father complain from the kitchen. “But I didn't think Sol would tell you so openly. Was it on purpose?”

“Yes. I think she was trying to convince me or make up for something. I'm not sure which.”

Yuna raised her eyebrows, cocking her head in tension for barely a second. If not for the years you'd known her, you probably would've interpreted her short-lived reaction as genuine curiosity, the desire for a tidbit of gossip. But your friend's tension was palpable and it was something that left you wondering a bit, especially when she didn't speak until your father returned to the kitchen.

“Honey, I think I'm going to get a sore throat.”

There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments. There were too many things you were still ignorant of and had no idea about; things far beyond what was happening in the present.

There were things you still didn't understand, like why and how Jeon Jungkook, the country's most famous idol and probably one of the celebrities most likely to have easiest facial recognition on the street, had so stealthily stumbled upon your whereabouts or why he had acted as if seeing you again was a reunion with his lost puppy from years ago.

“Are you still upset, noona?”

Seojun watched you warily, your sidelong glance leading him to cower once more behind your father. With lunch settled and the tension gone (barely), you all had been able to enjoy an enjoyable moment. After all, the dense atmosphere that still lingered was only due to the fact that teasing Seojun was fun and more satisfying when you had no reason to do so.

It all came from a great consideration that your family, and even Sol, had for you, trying to support you however they could, even if you didn't even seek their help. As much as you wanted to (and didn't really want to) there wasn't much reason to get angry. Less so when the outcome, likewise, had been favorable.

“We should focus on what's important,” Yuna dipped her spoon into the almost non-existent conversation, finishing her meal and leaving the plate practically glistening, to which your mother was able to sketch a satisfied smile. “We have a meeting this afternoon.”

“Ah. Yes,” Seojun nodded, remembering his place as the second-in-command of the business, because you had actually been relieved of any position you might have held in your own business. “As the person in charge of the treasury of this company, I must admit that the decision made is the most appropriate and in our best interests.”

Yuna narrowed her eyes, seeming it was almost impossible for her to ignore your brother's annoying presence.

“What have you contributed to this business to call yourself the person in charge of the treasury?”

“I've done a lot for this project! Besides, you are focused on advertising. You should be in charge of the public relations department.”

“And I can't handle both?!”

“I set up all the lines of communication with the delivery people and organized the accounts with Dad!” Seojun pulled Dad's shirt collar, pulling him close to his face with a frown. Your dad only let him be, as he savored a wing. “You took charge of net with mom. We can't reverse charges now. Experience and reality speak for themselves.”

Yuna clicked her tongue, irritated.

“Whatever,” shaking her head, she flipped the computer on the table so Seojun and your parents could get a good look at the proposal you had accepted, after arduous study over the weekend as a family. “After a long board meeting, which stretched over the entire weekend, this was the accepted offer.”

You could almost see the zeros running in your brother's eyes, with a budding smile making its way across his face. Your parents looked pleased, proud. And Yuna kept that determined expression; she was really taking all this seriously and you didn't know yet how you could thank her for it.

“Ah…” your mother sighed, holding a hand to her chest. “It's finally happening.”

When she sent you that look with the sparkling eyes you couldn't help but shrink back on your spot on the floor.

“Mom, I think it's best we avoid getting too excited until we've signed.”

Your mother nodded, closing her eyes and breathing to keep her composure.

“Accepted the offer, we were summoned to their facility, which is where we will be heading after resting from this delicious lunch.” Yuna smiled radiantly in your mother's direction. Sometimes you wondered if she wasn't missed at home. But… no, she was much better off here.

“My children have to rest very well to make the best decisions at that meeting,” your mother nodded, stroking Yuna's hair superficially and getting up to pick up the dishes. Seojun got up to help her, but your father stopped him, keeping the warm smile on his face. Of all of them, your father was the most expressive, but you knew that at that moment he was holding back only because at the slightest he would burst into tears. And yes, with a simple glance in your direction, his eyes watered and he had to run away hugging the dishes against his chest.

Seojun sighed dramatically.

“I wish they had been this excited when I entered college.”

Yuna moved across the table, smacking him on the forehead that left him with an instant redness.

“What are you talking about, idiot? You celebrated all weekend.”

Seojun didn't respond, touching his forehead with a grimace. Yuna snorted, not believing your brother's audacity, and turned her focus back to the contents of the proposal you had received from Noble Publishing Apgujeong. You still remembered the screams that had echoed throughout the house when they found the letter from that publishing house in the mail, the most prestigious and probably the highest one could aspire to in the world of writing and for the purposes of editing and publishing. There wasn't a book published under that publishing house that wasn't a success, and that they had sought you out themselves was a great privilege.

“Speaking of celebrations,” Seojun took the floor again, when your parents had finished taking the dishes away and agreed that you would wash them all together before youo left for the publishing house, because nothing was good enough, ”I don't think we've had a moment to at least pop a champagne and celebrate this.”

Your parents remained thoughtful, but you were already shaking your head when Yuna spoke:

“It's true,” her frown said she couldn't believe they hadn't done it yet, but between so many chores, to-dos and new things you were discovering on this new path, you couldn't just take the luxury of doing nothing for a few hours. There was a lot to work on. “We should do it after the meeting. With the contract at home, it will be much better!”

Your father and Seojun cheered in agreement and your mother gave a few claps.

“You're working tomorrow, Yuna.”

“So what?” your friend frowned at you. “Do you think it'll be the first time I've gone to work with a hangover?”

Your mom's throat clearing startled her, and she quickly melted like pudding with a sheepish grin.

“But this time it will be for a good cause…and it won't happen again.”

Your mom nodded, not very convinced.

“Incidentally,” Yuna regained her posture, sending a glare at Seojun, ”we could have y/n finally watch the video reactions of her books.”

“You haven't seen them?” Seojun exclaimed and suddenly the four pairs of eyes felt very threatening.

“… no…”

“Mom?? Did you hear that?!”

“Sweetheart!” your father exclaimed, looking at you as if he had heard that you did something worthy of banishment. “Why haven't you seen the videos, don't you know the good things they say about you?”

“The compliments,” your mother nodded. “Almost the entire internet loves your books.”

“That's an exaggeration, mom…”

“How did you even avoid all that hype?” Seojun asked, leaning over the table. “Even Dad's TikTok wasn't spared, and he only watches National Geographic videos.”

“…I muffled a few words.”

A roar of incredulous refusals followed your words and promptly everyone was moving to corner you against the couch so you had no escape.

“There is no time to waste.” Seojun nodded in Yuna's direction and it offended you too much that the only times they agreed was to do something against you.

“Mrs. l/n, I think dessert will be popcorn,” Yuna moved her computer closer to the center of the table as Seojun settled in behind you, each of your parents on your sides as your friend opened the TikTok web app.

“Hey, no… no. I'm not ready to watch this. I'm not-”

“Nonsense, noona. Even better, this will give you a big confidence boost for the meeting this afternoon.”

You didn't believe Seojun at all. Your nerves were on edge as Yuna moved to sit next to your brother and the first words of the first video echoed in the living room:

“My honest opinion of the A Million Swords trilogy…”

-

“Do you think I might publish any of these one day?”

Your fingers drummed on the keyboard of the desktop computer, watching the letters spinning a story that no one yet knew. No one, except for you and Taehyung at that moment. His gaze was confused as his dark eyes hid behind the dark, unruly, damp locks of his hair. For a pool day, you couldn't have had a better time than writing parts of your still unfinished story, the one you used to run away to when you had a whole reality to mold in front of you. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention back then; attention to details, to gestures, to distances, to forced smiles; maybe if you had paid that kind of attention you would have been able to foresee everything that would happen later… maybe then it wouldn't have hurt so much.

But at that moment, at 14, you could only see with stars in your eyes the enormous possibility that you thought writing would open up for you; the world you were about to discover, much farther away than you thought.

That weekend the pool party was at your house. Jimin had brought a gigantic inflatable pool withJungkook and they all kept splashing water in each other's eyes in the backyard. In your prolonged absence, surely, Taehyung had ventured inside the house to the only place he would know you would be if it wasn't next to them.

“Do I think? I'm absolutely sure.”

Taehyung shook the droplets slipping from the ends of his hair all over your face.

“Tae!”

“Why are you doubting it?”

“I never said I was doubting it.”

Your friend took one of the armchairs that each of the boys had recast in your room, which no matter how much you pulled them out always ended up there again, to sit next to you and watch the unfinished paragraphs on the computer screen. There were four armchairs already gathering dust in the corner of the room that you still hadn't had the heart to take them out.

“Look at that,” the brown-haired man moved his face closer to the screen, splashing more water on you, with a mischievous grin. “It was desire that stirred me, far beyond the reach of reason or any cognitive faculty. In the depths of my being, I knew with unshakable certainty that I was right. Their gaze scrutinized my every expression, searching for ways to break me, while their fingers, far from innocent, accused me relentlessly. Yet, even as the weight of their scrutiny bore down on me, there was no realm, no dimension in this vast, boundless universe where I had not chosen him above all else. Not even as the streets ignited, the houses crumbled to ashes, and the roar of thunder drowned out the cries for mercy…who writes like that?”

“y/n!”

Your other two friends appeared, reveling in the unapproved reading of the first draft of your first novel, and you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

You moved quickly to press the off button and your friends barely let out a short laugh.

“Don't ever do that again.”

“Then don't ever doubt you again.”

“I wasn't doubting! It was just a question…”

“She just wants you to be honest, Tae.” Jimin entered the room, moving right behind his friend and flashing a smile that made your hair stand on end.

“Honest...?”

“Shut up, Jimin.”

The aforementioned barely let out a laugh, under the scrutinizing and confused expressions of his other two friends.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook spoke, trying to gain ground in that unfamiliar room, clasping his hands in front of him in nervousness. He didn't even understand why he was nervous, he just knew he didn't like the obfuscated expression on your face.

“Nothing, Junkookie, Jimin's just an idiot who only knows how to spout rubbish.”

“Rubbish? Where do you even get those words from?”

“I learned it yesterday in literature class!”

“Uh-huh…”

“Stop it, Jimin!”

-

He wasn't a person to be caught off guard. His cautious attitude was something he had developed over time; with the experience of going through and surviving difficult situations; with the toughness of making strong decisions and constantly bearing the burden of being at fault for their consequences.

So no, Min Yoongi took it upon himself to plan things around him so meticulously that every aspect of his life had a place and a time; an hour and a second.

A planning so perfect that at that moment it was slipping through his hands like sand. His friend… no, Dohyun could do nothing but rest his hands against his desk sending him an obfuscated look, trying to look almost as disgruntled as Yoongi was at what he had learned would happen in that office.

“Of all the things I thought you could tell me…” Choi Dohyun shook his head, and on his face Yoongi could tell there were no words that could qualify his surprise. But he was surprised too, to be honest. He didn't know how he had summoned the fortitude to move so quickly from across town, from his study, to arrive at Dohyun's office and blurt that out to his face as if it were any Tuesday afternoon, as if he were simply inviting him to dinner at his house. “I've never underestimated you, Yoongi-ah, but this…”

“Who contacted you?”

“Who contacted me?” Dohyun let out a laugh, which felt a little heavy to Yoongi as he shifted his weight on his feet. “What makes you think I can't recognize a good deal from a distance when I see one? They call me the Shark for a reason, don't you think? I smell business like they smell blood in the sea.”

Yoongi clasped his hands at his sides, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Dohyun, who looked up and barely ran his tongue over his teeth before plopping back down on his ergonomic chair.

“The decision is already made,” was all he said to him, generating a flutter of emotions inside Yoongi.

“Who contacted you?” Yoongi insisted, feeling time slipping through his fingers. “How did you find out about… this?”

Dohyun let out a laugh, bordering on sarcasm and disbelief. Yoongi would've taken more time to think about it there, to ponder what he was doing, what his impulses were pushing him to do. But within the framework of his decisions and conflicting feelings, Yoongi had taken a path that he could no longer undo and the least he could do was avoid was to generate collateral damage to someone. Just for the chance to try, even though the probability of having the universe in his favor was microscopic, he decided not to give in to reason.

Maybe he would still be the villain in someone else's story, but in his conscience… maybe… maybe he was right and was looking for no way to excuse himself; to excuse things he could no longer change; to excuse behaviors he could no longer erase and decisions he could no longer undo.

Perhaps, too, it was the price he had to pay for what he had done. For what he had said; for what he had not said; for what he had done and what he had not done; for his action and his omission; for his perpetration and complicity. If Yoongi had known that time in his twenties that such a decision would have taken things so far, so close to the impossibility of healing, he surely would not have made it .

But to regret now, what good would it do him? To mutter apologies now, what good would it do him? To dig through the fibers of an unbridled heart, what good would it do him?

“Yoongi. I am the head of the largest publishing house in this country. If you thought I was going to see fluttering around the internet this opportunity in a million and as an entrepreneur and investor I wasn't going to take it, who are you taking me for?”

He should've dragged Namjoon away when he saw him in the parking lot, because business was his forte and not Yoongi's. Yoongi might as well cringe at Dohyun's words because how was he going to refute them. He had come with fortitude, yes. He had come with resolve and determination, yes; believing that this decision was the right thing to do, the least he could do right. And yet, at that crucial moment, with everything against him and the swords at his neck, Yoongi had his arms crossed again.

Maybe he should've dragged Namjoon along, but… how would he know if he was on his side?

“But don't worry. I'll try to keep you apart. You know I always separate personal matters from my work.”

Dohyun was a professional liar. If telling lies were a profession, Dohyun would quadruple the fortune he now boasts as the owner of the country's largest publishing house. Yoongi hated the way he covered up his poisonous words with honey, as if he couldn't see through the thin texture of the liquid how everything was corroding around him. And Dohyun was not his friend, if he wasn't sure before, he was now.

It's business, Namjoon would say, as rational and objective as ever; a businessman can't have someone around who attacks his vision, his business, that's an enemy.

Yoongi right now was a blob of green soup on Dohyun's pole, about to walk to an important meeting where he would close a million-dollar deal. His insignificance bordered on indescribability, but his diminutive presence was big enough to be considered a splinter in the foot.

The phone rang, breaking the tension in the atmosphere, and instead of answering it, Dohyun sent a glance toward the oak doors and then to Yoongi's limp body. Clasping his hands once again, it shook him inside to think that once again he allowed himself to be trampled. Once again, he was going to be the misfortune in someone's life.

“They're already here,” Dohyun almost muttered, an amused expression on his face. “You can leave now or you can stay and watch.”

Yoongi knew he'd be happy to have him there, watching him bite his tongue, trying to swallow his embarrassment. And wouldn't it be simpler to just leave, to brush against the fate he once let slip away as if it were something so trivial that it didn't tear a piece of his soul to even think about it; to brush against an opportunity he missed, selfish and presumptuous, as if he were the only one whose heart was beating with pain that day.

“I've never asked you for anything…”

“And neither have I,” Dohyun interrupted him, raising his gaze serenely, lifting his chin to acerbic dominance. “And all I'm asking you now is to stay out of my business.”

And Yoongi would've had to agree with Namjoon, because business and money definitely change a person. No one can rise to a high position, of Choi Dohyun's level, without having scored a big armory and a few degrees of tough personality willing to kill to get what they want.

“I received you out of courtesy. To Jin. But I won't tolerate another second of this.”

Dohyun mumbled, and the moment he brought the phone to his ear, Yoongi knew he had lost. Again.

“Hyung…” Yoongi closed his eyes, helplessness winning out over reason, the word sour in his mouth.

“No. I'm sorry, but no. It will happen. Just make your decision, I don't want my guests to wait too long.”

He didn't know if the grinding of his teeth was as loud as he heard it in his head. He didn't know if his behavior was over the top or understandable. He didn't know if he had a right to those emotions or if he had lost it more than ten years ago. Well, ten years in her head. He didn't know if he deserved that moment; to share that space and time and catch off guard someone who could become as cautious as he was now; because if Yoongi learned from anyone to be the way he was today, it was because of her.

He didn't know, in retrospect, if he ever made a good decision in his life.

-

i reeaally want to know your thoughts on this one!! re-edited!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592@yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @butnotmontana @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @chaotickyrith @dreamerwasfound @darlingz99

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | epilogue

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: A glimpse into your life one year after the trial.

Chapter Warnings: fluff, language, alcohol use, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, breeding kink 👀, dry humping

WC: 5.8K

A/N: thank you to all of you who came back week after week to feed into my delusions. I'm so glad there was an audience for this story because it kept me motivated to finish it and stay on track, so to everyone who commented, reblogged or liked... thank you!! ❤️

Series Masterlist

One Year Later

"Sarah!" you yelled up the stairs, craning your neck so you could hear.

"Almost ready!" she yelled back down. You hurried back into the kitchen right when the toaster popped up. Pinching the toast between your fingers with a hiss, you dropped both slices onto a waiting plate and sucked on the pad of your thumb as you turned around to grab the butter from the fridge. You heard her feet thundering down the stairs just as you were finishing up her breakfast. Turning around, you held out the plate to her right as she entered the room.

"Sorry! I overslept," she said, shooting you a grateful smile when she took the plate from your hands.

"No problem, you'll still make it to school on time," you replied, glancing at the clock before pointing to the stove. "Eggs," you told her, and she swiveled around to scoop some onto her plate before sitting down.

"Thank you," she said around a mouthful of food. You took a quick gulp from your coffee before it got too cold, then began pouring the rest of the pot into a thermos. Right on cue, Joel's heavy footsteps were the next to descend the stairs.

"Mornin', girls," he mumbled, fumbling with his tie as he walked. His hair looked disheveled and his eyes looked tired but you still grinned when you handed him the thermos. Giving up on the tie, he sighed with relief before taking a sip and winking at you over the cup.

"Here, let me," you offered, undoing the knotted mess and flattening the fabric back out so you could properly tie it for him.

He turned his head to the side so he could keep drinking his coffee without being in your way and eyed Sarah from across the room.

"Overslept?" he asked her, and she nodded tiredly.

"All set," you told him, flipping his collar back down and smoothing his dress shirt over his broad shoulders.

"Thank you, baby," he said softly before giving you a quick kiss.

"Eggs?" you asked him, turning around to fill your own plate with food. He took another sip of coffee as he flicked his arm out, his sleeve pulling back so he could check his watch.

"No time."

"At least take a granola bar with you," you said, opening a cupboard and handing him a little foil packet. He slid it into his pocket with the promise to eat it when he got to work, then looked over at Sarah again.

"Almost ready?" he asked, and she shoveled the last of her food into her mouth before nodding and standing up. You took the plate from her and rinsed it in the sink while she stuffed a binder into her backpack and zipped it shut.

"You can still drop me off at Jess's house tonight, right, Dad?" she asked, slinging her backpack over her shoulders. He froze as his brain tried to process what she said, working hard to remember if she had mentioned this before.

"What time?"

"Four. Right after school."

"Four..." he muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair, attempting to tame it. "Shit, babygirl, I don't think I can make it all the way on the other side of town by four, I got somethin' to take care of after work-"

"But Dad! We have a science project due Friday, and tomorrow I have practice-"

"I can do it," you offered from your spot against the counter, still holding your plate of half eaten eggs.

"You sure?" Joel asked, but you could already see the relief in his eyes.

"Yeah, of course. I'm working til three, then my night class starts at five. I can go in between, no problem."

"You got class tonight?" he asked. You and Sarah exchanged bewildered glances before you looked back at him.

"Yeah, Joel, it's Wednesday. I have classes Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Are you feeling okay?" you asked, growing a little worried. Now that you were thinking about it, he seemed more frazzled than usual that morning, and even though your lives were busy, he never forgot your schedules.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind, is all," he said, shaking his head and turning back towards Sarah. "Alright, let's get a move on. Don't wanna be late."

"I'll see you after school!" you called to Sarah as she walked towards the front door and shoved on her shoes.

"Thank you!" she called back before swinging the door open and disappearing outside.

"Thank you so much, baby," he said, cupping your face with both hands for another kiss, this time slowing down and savoring it.

"You're welcome," you said, pulling back with a grin. "Now, go."

He smiled and backed out of the room. "Love you."

"Love you, too," you said, turning around to survey the damage from breakfast. When you first moved in, you were concerned you would get in Joel and Sarah's way, that the little routine they had for so long would be disrupted by your presence, but it was becoming clear to you that wasn't the case at all. Sarah was very mature and independent, which was a huge help to Joel because for years, she would do a lot of the cooking and cleaning to help out, but when you moved in you began to take on some of those chores, allowing Sarah the time to enjoy just being a teenager. And to be perfectly honest, you didn't mind. You enjoyed being part of a loving family who welcomed you into their lives without hesitation. It was something you yearned for your whole life, and now you finally had it.

Tommy and Maria were extremely supportive of your new schedule. You had been taking night classes for the past six months at the local community college, looking to get your associate's degree and maybe see what kind of job that could get you because even though you loved working at the diner, it was back breaking work and you really didn't think you had it in you to be a lifer. Besides, the odd hours were less than ideal. You wanted to have a work schedule that matched Joel's so you could be home with him at the same time.

One huge thing you would miss about the diner was seeing Joel almost every day for lunch. It was bittersweet to think about one day quitting the job that brought you together, but you knew it would ultimately be worth it. Better hours, better pay, and no nights and weekends were the goal.

Right on schedule, you heard the front door open and Joel's deep drawl greet Maria behind the hostess stand before you saw him out of the corner of your eye make his way up to the counter. When you looked up, you were surprised to see he wasn't alone.

"Tyler!" you said with a grin, and the younger man nodded in greeting to you. About four months ago you were excited to find out Tyler Bates actually did end up calling Joel for a job, and of course Joel kept his word. Apparently, the Philadelphia police force was not a good fit for him.

You couldn't ever imagine why.

Texas was treating him well. Gone was the clean shaven, crew cut man you once met. Now that the south wrapped its arms around him, his skin was sunkissed, his hair a little wavy, and he even had a bit of stubble across his jaw.

"What's the occasion?" you asked as they took their seats.

Joel clapped Tyler on the back before looking up at you. "One of my guy's retirin' soon so I offered this one a promotion," Joel replied.

"Oh, that's wonderful! Congratulations!" you gushed, and you thought you saw his cheeks turn a little pink.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I told you, you don't have to call me that," you scolded playfully. "Especially during our double date this Saturday. You're still coming, right?"

"As long as this Hailey still wants to meet me," he replied, sounding a little nervous.

"Oh, she definitely still wants to meet you," you teased, and Joel chuckled next to him.

"She's been textin' her every night askin' what she should wear and-"

"Joel!" you snapped, cutting him off with a warning look, but he just grinned.

"What? It's true!" he laughed.

"You're gonna embarrass her!" you exclaimed, then turned to Tyler. "Ignore everything he just said in the past thirty seconds."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a little smile, then dropped his focus to the menu.

You shook your head at Joel, trying to come off as mad, but you knew you were failing by the look in his eye and the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"You're in trouble," you muttered lowly, and a look of excitement flashed across his face.

"Mm, I hope so."

Your eyes widened with embarrassment but fortunately, Tyler was a gentleman and pretended not to hear. You made an aggravated face at him before turning your head and quickly changing your tune.

"What can I get for you, Tyler?" you asked sweetly.

Hailey and Tyler hit it off instantly. You never set anyone up before, but they were both so sweet, you had a feeling they would make a good match. Hailey was the only girl in town who seemed to be on your side. Although most people moved on to the next exciting piece of gossip, your drama long forgotten by now, you didn't forget how she never treated you any differently, even though you were sure it would have been easy for her to do. She even left book club after she and the rest of the town learned the gritty details of your case. You assured her that Nikki never could have known the real reason behind your divorce, that you hid those details well for most of your life, but Hailey still wanted nothing to do with her or the group of women who ostracized you. It didn't end up mattering much in the end. A few short months after your trial, right around the time you moved in with Joel, Nikki found a job out of state and moved.

Instead of book club, the two of you started your own monthly club. Sometimes that consisted of a book you both wanted to read, other times it was going to dinner and the movies. It was nice to have a standing date with her and catch up. And when she mentioned last month how lonely she had been and how envious she was of your and Joel's relationship, you immediately thought of Tyler.

Tyler: the man who, aside from Joel, changed everything for you. Who stood up for what was right, even at great personal risk, and traveled all the way to Texas to apologize to you in person for not doing more. He was a good man, and he deserved to have someone, too.

"We're gonna go play darts, you guys want in?" Hailey asked, her eyes shiny and her cheeks slightly pink from the alcohol. You had picked Hank's instead of a nice restaurant, figuring it would help loosen both of them up, and you were right.

"You go ahead, we'll join you in a bit," you said, shooting her a discreet wink when Tyler wasn't looking.

"I don't think they'd even notice if we left," Joel murmured before taking a sip of his beer.

"No, probably not," you said, watching them from across the room. Tyler was standing behind Hailey, trying to show her how to properly take aim at the target.

Joel's phone buzzed in his pocket and he slid it out, subtly angling the screen away from you.

"Is it Sarah?" you asked when you noticed the look on his face. Michelle had done what she said she would and reached back out to Sarah, and while both of their schedules were busy, they occasionally found the time to meet up. This weekend was the first time Sarah stayed overnight in Austin with her mom, and even though Joel didn't say anything, you could tell he was worried.

"No, it's just Tommy," he said, putting his phone face down on table and looking back at you.

"Everything okay?" you asked slowly, picking up on some kind of nervous energy from him.

"Yeah, everythin's great," he replied with a grin, then leaned in to quickly try to change the subject. "You really think they won't notice if we leave? Can't remember the last time we had the house to ourselves."

Your breath caught in your throat when you saw his gaze darken. "I think it might be a little rude if we don't say something-"

Joel stood up immediately and held out his hand to you. "Then let's say somethin'."

You stared at his hand before looking back up at him. "Are you serious?" you said with a little laugh, but he just kept looking at you expectantly. "Alright, fine," you relented, taking his hand and allowing him to help you stand. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and led you through the bar, nodding briefly at Hank before reaching the dart board.

"You guys good if we head out?" Joel asked, barely pulling their attention away from each other. Tyler looked at Hailey, giving her the opportunity to respond just in case she was uncomfortable, but she shook her head.

"Go! We've got a competition heating up here, and I'm determined to win," she said, smirking up at Tyler.

"Alright, have fun," you said over the music playing from the jukebox. Hailey caught your eye and gave you a look, and when Tyler went up to the board to retrieve the darts, you held up your thumb and pinky to the side of your head and mouthed call me before Joel turned you away.

"What's with the rush?" you asked when you stepped outside and the fresh air hit your lungs.

"No rush. Just wanna be alone with my girl, is that a crime?"

"I don't know, you tell me, sheriff," you teased, and he chuckled under his breath before opening his truck door for you. And even though he claimed there was no rush, he sure did seem to hurry around the front of his truck.

You studied the side of his face as he drove, your brows furrowed a bit at the way his eyes shifted nervously from the road to the time on the dash. His fingers anxiously tapped on the steering wheel at every red light and you tried to ignore it, but after the third red light and hearing him mutter curses under his breath, you couldn't take it any more.

"What's gotten into you? You're acting weird," you said.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are! You've been weird all week, actually. Is it because of Sarah? Don't be worried, I'm sure she's fine. It's good for her to spend some time with Michelle."

"I'm not worried 'bout Sarah," he said, and you pursed your lips but let it go.

When you pulled into the driveway, you caught the way Joel looked at the time and the front door before quickly turning the engine off and hopping out of the truck. He rounded the car and opened the door for you, but when you began to walk towards the mailbox, he stopped you.

"Where you goin'?"

"I'm getting the mail. I'm expecting some stuff from school-"

"We can get it tomorrow, let's go inside," he said, wrapping his fingers around your shoulders and you frowned.

"Why can't I -" you paused when a truck lumbered past the house, and even in the dark, you recognized it. "Is that Tommy?" you asked, but before you could get a good look, Joel forcibly turned you towards the house.

"No, I don't think so."

"What-"

"Baby, c'mon, please let's go inside," he begged, and by now you knew he was definitely up to something. You sighed and let him lead you up the porch steps, deciding not to make it any more difficult on him.

When he opened the front door you finally saw why he was so anxious to get inside. You were greeted with the soft glow of candlelight, and as you stepped inside, utterly confused, you noticed the red rose petals scattered over the floor. You racked your brain, trying to remember if you forgot a special occasion, but you were coming up empty.

"W-what is all this?" you finally managed to ask softly as you slowly entered the living room, noticing for the first time the bottle of champagne and two glasses placed on the coffee table next to a beautiful bouquet of roses already in a vase. Joel was suspiciously silent behind you as you continued to take in the scene. Was he really that excited to have the house to yourselves?

You turned around to ask him but the words got stuck in your throat when you saw him kneeling behind you, holding out a ring with trembling fingers.

Your hands flew up to your mouth with a gasp and your heart began to pound wildly in your chest, completely taken aback. Oh my god, this is it.

Joel took a deep breath. "Since the moment we met-"

"Yes!" you nearly shouted through your hands, making the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile.

"I got a whole speech planned," he said with a nervous laugh, but you shook your head and dropped to your knees with him.

"I don't care," you breathed, pulling his face against yours for a searing kiss.

He managed to break away for a moment, his fingers still pinching the ring. "Didn't wanna ask in front of people, I know what you said 'bout-"

You cut him off with another kiss, not wanting to think about your previous marriage in that moment.

"You could ask me in the middle of the grocery store with a twist tie and I would say yes," you told him, pushing your forehead against his. He gripped the side of your head, the ring getting tangled in your hair as he pressed his lips feverishly against yours again.

"I love you so much," he mumbled in between kisses.

Tears were beginning to form now that the shock was wearing off, but you tried to hold them back. "I love you, too," you whispered, then gripped his collar to pull him down. His hand cradled the back of your head as you eased yourself onto the floor, your lips refusing to leave his. Your fingers hurriedly went to the buttons of his shirt when he remembered the ring.

"Wait," he said, pulling back a bit, panting for air. He held it up and you eagerly held out your hand, both of you shaking a little as he slid the ring around your finger.

"Oh, I love it," you gasped, admiring the unique pattern of little diamonds surrounding a larger one in the center of a gold band.

"Yeah?" he asked with a smile, his eyes going soft. "Couldn't make up my mind. Finally had it custom made, took forever but it came in the other day-"

"You had it custom made?" you repeated in disbelief, and he nodded.

"Couldn't wait to ask you. It's why I've been so distracted all week."

"I love you," you said again, pulling on his shirt to close the gap between you. "God, I love you so much," you mumbled as your fingers resumed their work on his buttons while your lips drifted down his jaw, his stubble burning your sensitive skin in the best way.

"Love you too," he murmured, his mouth finding a home against your neck as you finished unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it over his shoulders and down his arms. "I've loved you for so fuckin' long. Just wanna make you happy, give you the life you deserve," he continued, his teeth grazing against your earlobe.

"You do make me happy," you moaned as you struggled to pull off your jeans.

"Let's go upstairs," he said, pushing himself up to hover above you, his chest heaving.

You shook your head and lifted your hips, bumping clumsily against him as you shimmied your pants down. "Here," you told him, watching his eyes travel down your now half naked body.

"On the floor?" he questioned, but sat back on his heels to work on his belt. You nodded, your eyes dark with lust as you stared at his bare chest, only looking away to yank your shirt over your head. He chuckled as he kicked his pants off and you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist and tugged him back down to you. "Okay, baby. Whatever you want," he said in your ear, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

"Just want you," you whined, and your fingers came up to get tangled in his curls. He slipped his hand between your bodies and notched himself at your center.

"You got me, baby," he whispered, nibbling at your chin as he pressed forward, slowly stretching you open and making your jaw drop. "Got me forever. Always did," he added, his eyebrows pinching together the further he buried himself inside you.

"Oh fuck, Joel," you gasped, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bottomed out.

"Yeah? That feel good? Needed me so bad you had to have me right here, huh?" he growled in your ear. Your thighs tensed around his waist as you adjusted around him.

"Yes," you replied softly, gasping a little when you felt him pulse inside. "Want you everywhere. Can't get enough - god, you feel so good. Always feel so good," you rambled, knowing how much he loved it when you talked to him during sex. At first, you were embarrassed. You overthought what you should say, what sounded sexy, but you quickly realized it didn't matter. He loved it all.

He dragged his hips slowly, deliberately, building you up just so he could tear you apart. Savoring the sweet little moans that slipped past your lips as your walls squeezed around his cock and he was certain he would never tire of this.

"You're so beautiful," he said before crashing his mouth against yours messily. "Can't believe I get to spend my life with you," he added, his hand gripping your hip and pulling you against him, matching his thrusts.

You dropped your hands from his hair and pressed them against his chest, giving him a gentle shove. "Roll us over," you commanded, and he smirked.

"Yes, ma'am."

In the blink of an eye he ducked and rolled, pulling your hips with him and making you giggle when you found yourself straddling him.

"This is gonna fuck up my back," he warned you, shifting his shoulders as he tried to get comfortable on the floor.

"I'll give you a massage if it does," you promised, and his eyes lit up. He was about to say something smart when you began to roll your hips and suddenly, the words escaped him.

"Oh fuck, baby, that's it," he groaned, his hands lightly guiding you, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass. "Yeah, just like that, yeah... now bounce a little for me."

You did as he asked, your hands pressed flat against his chest as you bounced up and down, his eyes transfixed on the way your body glowed in the candlelight.

"So deep," you moaned, your head tipping back as your eyes closed, lost in the moment. "So good. You're so good to me, Joel. Ah!" you cried out as he began lifting his hips, thrusting up into you. He could feel the cool metal from your ring pressing into his chest and it only made him fuck up into you harder.

He quickly sat up, his arms circling around your waist and holding you tightly in his lap as he snapped his hips, little grunts and growls getting lost in each other's mouths, your tongues dancing together, desperately trying to get as close as possible.

"C'mon, c'mon," he muttered once you broke away, gasping for air. "Look at you. Gettin' all worked up. Couldn't even make it to bed, hm? Needed me to fuck you that bad, ain't that right?"

"Uh huh," you whined, your head falling forward, resting on his shoulder as you focused on his voice.

"That's alright, I'll give you anythin' you want. I'll take good care of you, baby. I'll give this perfect pussy anythin' she wants, too."

"Joel, I'm close," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your teeth pinching your bottom lip. Your eyes flew open when he hit that perfect spot and you gasped. "Right there! Please... please don't stop, don't stop," you gasped as you felt your cheeks begin to flush with heat.

"There? Yeah?" he panted, somehow managing to pound up into you with incredible force while sitting on his lap. You tried to respond but you couldn't. Your vision was going spotty and the heat pooling at the bottom of your belly was beginning to ignite. He seemed to understand because he kept up the pace, hitting that spot over and over while alternating between muttering filth and praise in your ear.

Takin' it so good. Such a good girl. Feel how hard you make me? I love you so much.

And maybe he got a little carried away, lost in chasing his own pleasure, not really thinking about what he was saying until...

"Can't wait to put a baby in you."

Your teeth clamped down on his neck, desperately trying to ground yourself as your orgasm hit you, forcing all the air from your lungs, his name barely a whisper on your lips.

He didn't even realize he said it out loud. He was too far gone, too close to his own release to think about anything else.

"I'm gonna come, baby, I'm g-gonna- fuck!" he groaned loudly, his stomach tensing and relaxing with each surge of his spend coating your walls until his body went lax, his shoulders drooping a bit and his arms loosening their grip around you.

"That was worth the backache," he finally mumbled, and you giggled from your place on his neck.

You kept expecting him to say something about what he said, but by the time you had untangled yourselves - you, gathering all your clothes and him, blowing out the candles - it didn't seem like he was going to mention it, so you let it go. And by the time you got upstairs, letting him wrap you up in his arms with your left hand splayed out across his bare chest, you had nearly forgotten all about it.

It must have been later than you usually slept. The sun was brighter than usual, streaming in through the windows and bathing you both in its glow. You were laying on your stomach, one leg hitched up towards your chest. At some point, Joel must have sought you out because his body was pressed flat against your back, his arm even resting on top of yours, fingertips grazing your ring as he slept.

Your ring.

Your eyes fluttered open so you could see it. Not wanting to disturb him, you tried to twitch your finger a bit so the stones would reflect in the light.

His nose nudged your shoulder blade, his face buried in your upper back, and you smiled. He was so close and so warm it made you never want to get up.

Then you felt his cock twitch against your leg and you bit your lip. It sounded like he was still asleep, his breathing hadn't changed, but his body was still reacting to you anyway, and the thought made you desperate for him again.

You tipped your hips back ever so slightly, just to see how deep of a sleep he was in. When he didn't respond, you wiggled your body a little more, flexing and stretching your limbs underneath him. His breath fanned over your shoulder, your hair fluttering a bit with each exhale. The ache between your legs was growing, so you ground your ass against him a little harder and you finally sensed a change in his breathing: he was waking up.

His fingers laced together with yours, your ring pressing into the palm of his hand and making him smile against your skin.

"Mornin', fiancée," he murmured sleepily. You hummed in response as you continued to lightly grind up against him, feeling him harden against the curve of your ass. "What're you doin', baby?" he whispered, his fingers tightening around yours.

"Nothing," you replied innocently, still rolling your hips against him.

"Don't feel like nothin'," he grunted against the back of your neck.

"What does it feel like?"

"Feels like you need me to take care of you again," he said, his voice still gravelly with sleep as he began to roll his hips in rhythm with yours. A soft moan slipped past your lips, the throbbing between your legs intensifying at the thought of waking up like this every day for the rest of your lives.

Joel's hand slid between your legs, his fingers brushing against your folds. He inhaled sharply and buried his face further into your back as he gently pet at your soaking heat, purposely taking his time and driving you wild. "Yeah, she needs me again, huh?" he said, his voice muffled. "Needs me to stretch her open 'n fill her up, ain't that right?"

"Yes," you whimpered, pushing your hips back into him, begging for it. And when you felt him press against your opening, his words from last night drifted back into your brain: Can't wait to put a baby in you.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes squeezed shut as he began to slowly push inside and you wondered how you went so long without him. How many years you wasted without knowing his touch. He was so perfect and sweet and kind and loving and now, he was all yours. Forever.

"Did you mean it?" you found yourself asking after he began to rock his hips into you from behind, slowly, making sure you felt every inch of him.

"Mean what?" he mumbled, his voice sounding strained as you stretched and clutched around him.

"Did you really want to put a baby in me?" you clarified, suddenly feeling nervous. His hips stalled and his eyes shot open and the pause he took before replying made your heart flutter anxiously in your chest.

"Do you want that?" he asked, his hand holding your hip in place, effectively stopping you from grinding against him.

"Maybe?" you replied, your voice higher than usual and you were relieved you couldn't see his face because you weren't sure your nerves could take it.

He nibbled lovingly at your ear, his teeth dragging down your throat as he slowly began to move again.

"Then maybe I did mean it."

You breathed a small sigh of relief and you pushed your ass against him, matching his pace. "Yeah?" you said, wanting to hear more. Needing to hear more.

"Mhm," he mumbled, his lips gliding over your shoulder. "You'd make a great mom. And fuck, you'd be so pretty with my baby in you."

"Mm," your cheeks flared with heat at the fantasy, and the way his thrusts were coming a little faster made you think it turned him on, too. "Imagine the looks I'd get," you whispered, your fingers clutching around the sheets as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. His hand wrapped around your knee and pulled your leg up higher. "Walking around - ahh - walking around town, growing your baby in my belly. Letting everyone see how good you take care of me."

He groaned, his hips snapping faster against your ass, unable to hold back.

"You like that? You want everyone to see how good I fuck you? If you weren't on the pill, I'd do it right fuckin' now," he growled in your ear, and you gasped.

"Oh fuck, Joel, I'm close," you whimpered, your hands desperately reaching out for any part of him to hold. He noticed and he removed his hand from your knee so he could lace your fingers together again. He was fucking everywhere. Your whole body was covered by his, pinning you into the bed. His breath was warming your neck, his cock filling you up, reaching the furthest depths of you and you never felt more alive than when your orgasm finally took hold.

"Yeah, that's it," he cooed as you spasmed and whimpered beneath him. "Good girl. Fuck, yes, that's right," he panted, chasing his own high as you struggled to remain present. "So pretty when you come, s-so pretty, my pretty girl, love you so fuckin' much," he groaned, then his body stilled as he pumped you full once again, whispering your name weakly as he finished.

"Fuck me, baby," he moaned after he caught his breath. He lifted himself off you, your skin sticking together briefly before he slid out with a hiss. He collapsed on his back next to you, pulling on your shoulder so you flipped over and tucked you into his side. He tilted your chin up so he could slot his lips against yours, massaging them tenderly, lovingly, with a deep, contented sigh.

"You make me so happy," you told him, his fingers still pinching your chin. He grinned and kissed you again.

"I'm gonna spend my life givin' you whatever you want," he whispered against your lips.

Your hand drifted up to the back of his neck, your fingers tugging gently at the ends of his thick curls. His tongue slipped past your lips, slowly swirling around yours with a moan.

Just as you were starting to think you wouldn't leave the bed for the entire day, you heard two car doors slamming shut in the driveway and you both opened your eyes.

"Sarah's home," he said, pecking one more kiss against your lips before pushing himself up with a groan.

"Oh my god, does she know?" you asked, feeling bad you hadn't asked yet. He pulled on a pair of boxers and his discarded jeans as he looked at you admiring your ring.

"'Course she knows, talked to her 'bout it weeks ago. She's so happy, could hardly stop pesterin' me 'bout it," he said with a chuckle, then pulled a T-shirt over his head just as you heard the front door open. He tossed you your jeans as he headed for the door. "Better hurry up or else she's gonna come bargin' in here," he warned, then disappeared down the stairs.

You flung the covers off and quickly dressed, checking your hair in the mirror and glancing down at your ring once more before following Joel downstairs, excited to start the next chapter of your life with your new family.

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[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 | 1

Read Chapter two - here [MASTERLIST]

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, BLOOD, Auctioning people, talks of BDSM, talks of virginity, talks of STD and STI tests, Dom and Sub dynamics, underage drinking (20), THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: 20,000 dollars in student debt can lead to irrational decisions, like engaging in a questionable discussion when a friend who is knowledgeable about BDSM mentions an auction she's attending.

WC: 3.6K

A/n: the first of the new and improved version of my mister miller fic🫶🏻

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

Cold and heartless, Dr. Richards, your financial aid advisor, was a stern woman. You had expected that, considering the difficulty of having to inform hundreds of students about whether they could afford to continue their college careers or not. Last week, you discovered an unpaid dues notice from the school when you were looking through your financial reports. You had thought that all your dues were covered by a creative writing scholarship and financial aid.

Dr. Richards set your papers down and sighed, taking off her glasses and looking at you with an unexpected hint of pity. "Would you like me to be kind or blunt?" she asked, her voice steady but softened by the weight of bad news.

Your hand slapped to your forehead instinctively as dread pooled in your stomach. "Blunt," you muttered, bracing yourself.

"You're $20,000 in debt," she continued without missing a beat. "The total cost of your first year was $40,000. $20,000 was covered through financial aid and the scholarship, but if you wish to continue, the remaining $20,000 has to be paid by the start of next semester."

Shock and anger twisted inside you, making your vision blur. "Three months?!" you exclaimed, your voice rising with panic. "How am I supposed to afford that? I can barely afford anything as it is."

Dr. Richards leaned back, her eyes holding a mixture of sympathy and resignation. "I understand this is difficult, but the reality is, you need to find a solution quickly. Perhaps a private loan, more scholarships, or even a part-time job."

The office walls seemed to close in around you, the air thick with the weight of impossible choices. You stood up, feeling the urgency of time slipping through your fingers. "I'll figure something out," you said, your voice a brittle whisper of determination.

As you stepped out into the corridor, the gravity of your situation bore down on you. The campus buzzed with the usual life of students, oblivious to your internal turmoil. Every step you took felt heavier, each echoes a reminder of the $20,000 chain now dragging you down.

Night fell as you wandered the campus, lost in thought. The familiar paths seemed alien, shadows stretching long and menacing under the flickering streetlights. Once you made it back to your cramped dorm room, you opened the door and flopped onto your bed without even glancing at your roommate, Faith.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Faith asked, concern lacing her voice.

You lifted your head from the bed just enough to reply. "Remember the financial notice I got last week? Turns out I'm $20,000 in debt, and I didn't even know. Ugh, I should have read the papers more thoroughly." You sunk your head back into the thin, scratchy comforter on your bed, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on you.

Faith sat down on the edge of her bed, her eyes wide with concern. "That's... a lot. What are you going to do?"

You sighed deeply, the sound muffled by the comforter. "I have no idea. Three months to come up with twenty grand? It feels impossible."

Faith was silent for a moment, the tension in the room thickening. Finally, she spoke, her voice a mix of determination and desperation. "We'll figure something out. There has to be a way."

You nodded weakly, and Faith gently moved your shoulders to get you to sit up. She sat next to you and nudged you playfully. "Maybe a sugar daddy? You're a hot 20-year-old with a banging body," Faith joked, her mischievous grin breaking through the tension.

You managed a small smile, though part of you wondered if she was actually being serious. Faith was always open about her sex life, unlike you. You were a virgin, but the thought of a sugar daddy did sound appealing in your desperate situation.

"Yeah, right," you replied with a chuckle, though the idea lingered in your mind longer than it should have. Faith's laughter filled the room, a momentary reprieve from the oppressive worry.

Faith stood up abruptly before walking to her laptop and bringing it over to you. "A Twilight marathon isn't going to fix this," she cut you off, her tone serious, as she settled beside you.

"I know, I know... but," she hesitated, her expression grave, "well, I might have a solution." With a look of persuasion, she showed you her laptop screen, displaying a website named 'Twisted Temptations.'

"Your BDSM club?" you blurted out, taken aback.

"Okay, okay, listen," Faith hurried to explain, sensing your shock and disapproval. "We're doing this auction... You get 10% of whatever they bid for you."

You stood there, frozen in disbelief, waiting for Faith to continue. "How do you think I paid for college and..." she paused, choosing her words carefully, "most don't even want sex. You should at least look at the application."

You shook your head, doubt clouding your thoughts. "I don't know, Faith. This is so out of my comfort zone."

Faith moved closer, her expression softening with concern and determination. "Listen, I wouldn't suggest this if I didn't think it was safe. The club is strict about boundaries. You set the limits, and they are respected. Plus, I'll be there to guide you through everything."

You glanced at the laptop screen, the application form open and waiting. The prospect seemed overwhelming, yet there was a glimmer of hope—an unconventional solution to your daunting financial problems.

Faith sensed your hesitation and continued, "I know it's a big step, but think about the benefits. You need the money, and this way, you control what happens. You set your limits and preferences, and everything is mutually agreed upon with your partner. Trust me, you'll be safe."

You took a deep breath, considering her words. "But what if something goes wrong?"

Faith smiled reassuringly. "It won't. The club has strict rules and procedures to protect everyone involved. I'll help you with everything—filling out the application, setting your boundaries, and making sure you're comfortable. You won't be alone in this."

The weight of your financial troubles pressed down on you, and Faith's unwavering support felt like a lifeline. You sighed and sank onto the bed next to her. "Alright, I'll do it, but you have to help me. I don't want something to go wrong."

Faith's eyes lit up with excitement. "It won't," she assured you confidently. "Let's get started." She quickly filled in your name, age, and other essential details, then looked at you with a reassuring smile. "Okay, now we need to talk about your preferences and limits. This is really important."

You nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "What kind of preferences?"

Faith glanced at the screen, scrolling down to the next section. "Let's start with the basics. Are there any absolute no-go areas for you? Things you absolutely won't do?"

You bit your lip, feeling a flutter of nerves. "Well, I'm a virgin, but I'm ready to...you know, not be. I just don't want to do anything I'm not comfortable with."

Faith nodded, her expression serious but supportive. "That's totally okay. You can specify that you're new and what your limits are. Many people in the club respect that and will help you explore at your own pace."

She typed as she spoke, checking off boxes and filling in fields. "What about things like light bondage, sensory play, or role-playing? Have you ever thought about those?"

You blushed slightly, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "I've never tried any of it, but I guess I could be open to light stuff. Nothing too intense to start."

Faith smiled encouragingly. "Perfect. We'll start with light bondage and sensory play. You can always update your preferences later as you get more comfortable."

She continued filling out the form, asking about your comfort levels with different activities, safe words, and any medical conditions or allergies. You answered as best as you could, relying on Faith's guidance and the snippets of information she'd shared with you over the years.

"Remember," Faith added, "most of what you like and don't like is decided mutually between the dom and sub. Communication is key. You'll discuss your limits and preferences with your partner beforehand, and you can always say no if something doesn't feel right."

Faith noted your availability and reviewed the application one last time. "Alright, I think we're all set. Ready to submit?"

You took a deep breath, nerves, and excitement swirling within you. "Ready."

Faith clicked the submit button, and the screen flashed a confirmation message. She turned to you with a grin. "Welcome to Twisted Temptations. You're going to be great."

As you sat there, a mix of relief and apprehension settling over you, Faith squeezed your hand. "Remember, you're in control. This is about exploring your boundaries and discovering what you're comfortable with. And I'll be here every step of the way."

You nodded, and Faith smiled. “The auction will be held next week. You’ll need to get an STD and STI test done, and you desperately need to get something sexy.”

You gasped at Faith. “I own sexy clothes?”

Faith giggled and walked over to the closet. "Well, maybe not yet, but that's what I'm here for."

She flung open the closet doors and began rifling through your clothes. After a moment, she pulled out a baggy hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, holding them up with a look of mock horror. “Unless you plan on seducing someone with the allure of ‘Netflix and no chill,’ we need to do some shopping.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. But where am I supposed to find something sexy?”

Faith’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Leave that to me. We’ll hit up the mall tomorrow, and by the time we’re done, you’ll have an outfit that’ll make jaws drop.”

You felt a mixture of excitement and dread. “Fine, but no leather. And nothing with feathers. Or sequins. Or—”

“Relax,” Faith interrupted, still laughing. “I know just the thing. You’ll be sexy, not sparkly.”

As Faith closed the closet doors with a flourish, she turned back to you, her expression turning serious. “But seriously, the tests are important. We need to make sure you’re safe and everything is in order.”

You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in again. “I’ll make an appointment first thing tomorrow.”

Faith grinned and flopped down on the bed beside you. “Great. Now, let’s watch a terrible rom-com to celebrate your big decision. It’ll be our last bit of normalcy before you become a sex goddess.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile.

Faith and you decided to Uber to the auction. The city lights blurred past the window as you fidgeted with the hem of your newly purchased dress. Faith noticed your nerves and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“Alright,” she said, her tone both calming and excited, “let me walk you through what’s going to happen tonight.”

You nodded, trying to focus on her words instead of the churning anxiety in your stomach.

“When we arrive at the venue, we'll check in at the front desk. They'll hand you your papers and auction number,” Faith explained. “Then, we can mingle and meet some of the other participants. It's like a real auction party, so don't be shy about striking up conversations.”

You took a deep breath, feeling slightly reassured. “And when does the bidding start?”

Faith grinned. “Bidding starts at 10 PM sharp. That's when the real excitement begins.

As the Uber came to a stop outside the venue, I looked out the window at the unremarkable building that awaited me. Faith led the way, exuding confidence as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

Stepping into the venue, anticipation swirled around me like a gentle breeze, mingling with the soft melodies of background music. The interior whispered of understated elegance, with dim lighting casting enchanting shadows across the polished floors and plush furnishings. Faith guided you towards the check-in desk, where attendants bustled about with papers and pins. You exchanged a nervous glance, excitement bubbling beneath the surface as you approached the desk.

“Welcome,” greeted the attendant with a warm smile, “may I have your names, please?”

You and Faith exchanged introductions before the attendant handed you each a set of papers and pins to attach to your dresses. With a playful grin, Faith nudged you and held up her pin, wiggling it teasingly.

“Alright, partner in crime,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “let’s get these on and make sure we’re looking sharp for the auction.”

You chuckled, feeling a surge of affection for your friend as you both leaned in to help each other attach the pins to your dresses. 

With your pins securely fastened, you and Faith made your way toward the main ballroom. The air seemed to buzz with an undercurrent of excitement and anticipation. As you approached the entrance, the grandeur of the room came into view.

The ballroom was a striking blend of opulence and decadence. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the space, illuminating velvet drapes in deep, sensual hues that lined the walls. The polished marble floors reflected the ambient light, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. Guests mingled in clusters, their laughter and hushed conversations weaving a tapestry of sound that filled the room.

At one end of the ballroom stood a grand stage, draped in rich, crimson fabric and adorned with luxurious golden trim. The stage was set for the auction, with a sleek podium at the center and rows of plush chairs arranged in front, ready for the evening’s main event.

As you stepped further inside, the scene grew more intense. The guests were an eclectic mix, their attire ranging from sophisticated evening wear to daring, barely-there outfits that left little to the imagination. Leather, lace, and latex dominated the fashion choices, with some attendees adorned in intricate harnesses and collars, their outfits hinting at the BDSM theme of the event.

Faith squeezed your hand one last time before she was swept away by a familiar face, her confident stride never faltering. You stood there for a moment, feeling a sudden pang of anxiety as the crowd seemed to close in around you. The noise, the lights, the sheer number of people—it was all too much at once.

Your heart raced as you tried to navigate through the sea of faces, each one strange and intimidating. The grandeur of the ballroom that had seemed so captivating just moments ago now felt overwhelming. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady yourself, but the sensation of being out of your depth only intensified.

The guests were like nothing you had ever seen before. A man in an immaculate tuxedo strolled by, a jeweled mask obscuring his eyes, while a woman in a full-body latex suit and stiletto heels sauntered past, her movements deliberate and commanding. A couple nearby caught your eye: the woman wore a sheer, flowing gown, her partner trailing behind her on a leash, wearing nothing but leather shorts and a collar.

In one corner, a group of people had gathered around a figure suspended in a rope harness, their intricate knots both artistic and functional. Soft moans and murmurs of appreciation floated through the air as the person twisted slowly, lost in the sensations the ropes provided. Another attendee, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, held a riding crop, playfully tapping it against their thigh as they chatted with a scantily clad submissive whose eyes never left the ground.

Guests lounged on plush sofas, some openly engaging in power play dynamics. A woman in a sleek corset held a leash attached to a submissive kneeling beside her, while another couple whispered intimately, their hands exploring each other's bodies with practiced ease. The atmosphere was charged with an erotic energy, a palpable sense of anticipation for what the night would bring.

As you continued to weave through the crowd, searching for a familiar face or a quiet corner, the overwhelming nature of the evening began to settle heavily on your shoulders. The mix of luxury and raw sexuality, the boldness of the guests, and the anticipation of what was to come all blended into a dizzying mix that left you feeling adrift.

In that moment, you longed for Faith's reassuring presence, her confident guidance. But she was somewhere amidst the throng, leaving you to navigate this new and intimidating world on your own. You felt a prickling sense of vulnerability, the realization that you were truly stepping into uncharted territory sinking in as you tried to steady your breath and find your footing in the extravagant chaos surrounding you.

So, like every college student in a social bind, you made a beeline for the bar. "Shit," you muttered, realizing you had left both your fake and real ID back in the dorm. Trying to muster some confidence, you approached the bar, hoping your outfit might be convincing enough. You sidled up next to a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed impeccably in a well-tailored suit. You could catch the faint scent of pine and campfire from his cologne.

Putting on your best flirty face, you addressed the bartender. He was the complete opposite of the man beside you—average height, slightly taller than you, skinny, tattooed, and wearing an ill-fitting button-up uniform top. His head was shaved clean. "One shot of Tito's, please," you said, playing with your hair in an attempt to seem older and more sophisticated.

The bartender chuckled. "ID, please?"

You leaned forward, arms together to emphasize your cleavage. "ID, really?" you said, trying to be as seductive as possible.

The bartender looked tempted but quickly shook his head. "No ID, no alcohol," he said firmly, turning away.

You groaned in frustration, which caught the attention of the man next to you. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was older, that was clear, but he looked good. His stubble was neatly trimmed, his curly hair slicked back in a way that seemed both effortless and intentional, and his eyes were large and expressive.

"So, no ID?" he asked, his voice warm and slightly amused.

You smiled back. "No, but a girl can try."

He set down his glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light. "Well, how old are you then?"

"Twenty," you admitted, locking eyes with him.

Before you could continue the conversation, Faith appeared, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the bar. "What were you doing talking to Joel Miller?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and concern.

You glanced back, watching Joel as he turned back to his drink. "Just chatting. Why?"

Faith handed you a pamphlet and opened it to a specific page. "Page four," she instructed.

As you skimmed the page, she continued, "Joel is... intense. He's someone to shy away from until you're more experienced. Trust me on this."

Your eyes widened as you read the details. "Intense" was an understatement. "So, who's the safe bet?" you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Faith's face softened. "His brother, Tommy. He's more laid-back and a better choice for someone starting. You'll find him much easier to talk to."

You sighed, glancing back toward the bar. "Guess I dodged a bullet, huh?"

Faith smiled. "Yeah, you did. Now, let's find Tommy and get you introduced. He's around here somewhere."

Joel suddenly appeared as you and Faith navigated through the crowd, stopping you both dead in your tracks. "Tito's," he said, handing you a glass with a wry smile. He glanced at the number pinned to your dress before walking away, leaving you stunned.

"What was that about?" Faith immediately questioned, her eyes wide with surprise.

Before you could respond, a voice boomed from the auction podium. "May all the products please make their way backstage."

Faith turned to you, her expression shifting from curiosity to urgency. "We'll talk about this later. Right now, we need to get backstage."

Your heart pounded as you nodded, clutching the glass of Tito's Joel had given you. You downed it in one gulp, hoping it would calm your nerves, then handed the empty glass back to Faith. She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be fine. Just remember what we talked about. You're in control."

With a deep breath, you joined the other "products" making their way to the designated area. The backstage was a flurry of activity, with organizers checking names and numbers, and participants adjusting their outfits one last time. The air was thick with anticipation and a hint of perfume mingled with the scent of leather.

An organizer approached you, checking your number against his list. "You're number 3, correct?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely audible over the din of conversation and last-minute preparations.

"Great. Just wait here until you're called," he instructed, pointing to a row of chairs along the wall.

You sat down, your mind racing. Faith's words echoed in your head: "You're in control. You decide your limits." The reality of what you were about to do began to sink in, but you steeled yourself, determined to see it through.

As you waited, you couldn't help but think about Joel. His unexpected gesture with the Tito's, the way he had looked at you—something about him intrigued and unnerved you. But Faith's warning was clear: he was intense, someone to be cautious around. Your thoughts were interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

"Number 3, you're up next," the organizer said.

You stood up, smoothed out your dress, and took a deep breath. As you stepped towards the stage, the curtain drew back slightly, giving you a tantalizing glimpse of the auction room. The ambient lighting cast a soft glow, illuminating the expectant faces of the bidders, their anticipation palpable in the air.

Stepping into the spotlight, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The auctioneer's voice echoed in the room, commanding attention as he announced, "And now, presenting number 3, starting bid at $500."

[jolapeno]

18. calming peach

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter eighteen of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 4.2k chapter warnings: dad!frankie. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. flirting. too idiots who clearly want to have a future together. an: we're so close to the end and i'm crying.

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key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

You’d never consider setting an alarm an hour early for anyone else, silencing it with a groan and stretch, leg bending out like a lazy, sleepy starfish until it meets him.

He who is waiting, palm sliding over your thigh, up to your waist, gently tickling your stomach until you wiggle. Frankie’s breath grazes your neck as he sighs, pressing each syllable to your skin, Morning.

Sometimes when you wake next to him, you stretch out and he comes to your side; others you fold over onto his, and occasionally you meet in the middle, leg between his, rousing to the sounds of neighbours, heartbeats, birds, or silence.

But like clockwork, always after a moment, your lips meet his in a tender kiss, soft and layered with a smile before growing needier, the only time his movements aren't slick and coordinated.

“Shower?”

He hums against your mouth, tracing the band of your sleep shorts.

Soon enough, the hour is stolen by cuddles and whispers before a shared shower washes away lingering sleep. Hisses blend with steam until you're both towelling off and slipping into clothes.

“Do you think you’ll be gone all day?” you ask, pouring fruit into your yogurt, handing him the bowl as he sips his coffee.

“Not sure—could be. You’re staying here, right?” You nod and grin, chewing a piece of fruit. “Good. I like knowing I’m coming home to you.”

His words spread warmth through you, a blaze of happiness. You stare at him for a moment before asking, “Is that so?”

Placing his elbow on the table, he traces his jaw as he stares. “Yeah. That okay?”

Shrugging, fighting a smirk. “Not the worst thing I’ve been told.”

“What you working on today? ” he says, pinching a piece from your bowl—ignoring the chopped-up, untouched yoghurt ones left for him. “Still those graphics?”

Nodding, you motion to stab him with your fork when he tries again. “Get your own, Morales. Stop wanting mine.”

“Can never stop wanting you.”

Narrowing your eyes, you watch him grab a piece from the free bowl, smirking as he chews.

“I made you a lunch, by the way.”

Chewing and smirking, he drags his tongue across his bottom lip. “Like a lunch lunch or—?”

“A lunch in a brown bag—with maybe a love note in there.”

His tongue pokes his cheek as he smirks. “Yeah?”

You nod, pointing at the fridge. He moves quickly, opening the brown bag, rustling through it before pausing and turning fully.

“You made me lunch.”

“I did.”

You might have ruined me for lunches from now on.

Ah, this is why I didn’t make you them before—wanted you to fall in love with me for me, and not my excellent packed lunch. You hating what you have today?

It’s not hitting the spot.

Did you make it yourself or grab it on the way?

Grabbed it?

Well, there’s why. It isn’t made with love.

I did like the fact I got a note in mine the other day.

Special treatment. Hope you didn’t throw it away.

Don’t laugh, but it’s in my wallet.

Aw Butterscotch, you loveeeee me.

If you make Luca a packed lunch, I think he’ll make you stay forever.

Well, I’m not going anywhere. If that’s okay?

I meant living with us, but good to know that we’re on the same boat about being a forever kind of thing.

I don’t make lunches for just anyone.

Because of the risk of them falling in love with you?

It’s a blessing and a curse, Morales.

Placing the platter down, a breeze blows the tablecloth on the newly painted and restored garden furniture Frankie had surprised you with.

The temperature warm, birds chirping as you check and recheck the various paint shades ready on the paper plates—the canvas’ already set up on their stands as he waits, resting his chin on his palm.

“Ready?”

Scrunching your nose, you sigh. “I think so?”

“What if I can’t paint you how I see you?”

Kissing the top of his head, feeling his head tilt up as you press another to his forehead, to his nose. “Oh, I’ll cry if I look like a monster.”

His laugh ripples out as you press your mouth to his, feeling one of his hands skate around your middle, squeezing.

A scroll on your phone one night had led the two of you to purchase a vase from Harold’s small homeware section, filling it with a bunch of different date ideas. Some cheap, at home, some further afield that required more planning.

Last week’s had been backyard camping. The tent had been big enough for all three of you, fairy lights strung on the inside as Luca’s s’mores (an insistence on them from both you and him) had accompanied well with Frankie’s reading of Luca’s ghost story. Which was basically one of his books with a ghost on the cover.

Today’s, on a rare free day off, had you both back outside and ready to paint. Thirty minutes on Frankie’s phone, a set of paint shades that would definitely make it difficult to capture the beauty of his eyes and an array of nibbles that smelt too good to keep avoiding.

As you sit, both grabbing a brush in hand, you glance over at him and nod as he begins the timer, his focus already deep on his canvas. He looks up, catching your eye and offering a smile that’s familiar, all but warm.

“You know,” he says, dipping his brush into a bright blue, “this might be my favourite date yet.”

You grin, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the sun. “Because you’re getting to paint something other than a dinosaur?”

He nods, eyes twinkling. “I do paint a good dinosaur.”

“You do. Very talented.”

Laughter continues as you begin with his outline, the conversation flowing as you try to capture his nose, his smile—the crinkle of his eyes. By the time the alarm goes off, you're almost happy. Dropping your paintbrush, hands up as you admire for a moment before picking yours up to show him.

“You’re going to be blown away.”

“I’m ready, baby.”

Turning yours first, his brows raise, leaning forward, slightly squinting. “I'm getting the idea that you like my nose...”

Smirking, slowly lowering yours back to the stand. “Oh, I like your nose, Butterscotch.”

Laughing, he then turns his and what you see takes your breath away. His painting of you, beautiful but also absolutely hilarious, has your smile cutting up into your cheek, teeth showing before a laugh rumbles out. It high-pitched, scratching your throat as it forces it out—tears pricking at your eyes, as he slowly lowers it.

“See? I told you I couldn’t paint you how I see you.”

You laugh, blinking back tears, heart full. “Frankie, you drew me as a dinosaur.”

He cracks then, mirroring you, laughing. “I wouldn’t run from you.”

Shaking your head, wiping another tear from your eye you snort. “I’d trample on you.”

“I’d let you.”

Wanted you to know that a certain person is wondering if he can watch cartoons and eat ice cubes with you. Aw, how’s the little man feeling? He’s still got a temp, but it’s less than yesterday and he’s managing to keep toast down. I’ve rang Harold already, thought he might have been okay today but. Does Harold need help?

You don’t even think, question.

The offer had been on your tongue on the day Frankie had called from the car to tell you he needed to pick Luca up. Explanation interspersed with hissing at traffic and grumbling, as you conjured the image of him tugging on his hair as he hurried his way to the school.

Frankie had said it would be fine when you’d offered before—it’ll be one day, that’s it. Now it was day three, and medication from the family medicine doctor as Luca battled an ear infection that had him not even wanting to talk dinosaurs.

There’s a delivery, but he says he’ll call his nephew.

Dialling his contact and pressing the phone to your ear, you drain the last parts of your coffee, tidying away the opened letters on your countertop as it rings, and rings, and—

“Call him and tell him I’m on my way.”

Frankie laughs, mumbling a hello as you hear him clanging a pan and something else. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I haven’t got much on—and even if I just accept it for him, let him tell me where he wants it, then it’s sorted.”

“You sure? This… you don’t have to do this.”

Laughing, grabbing a t-shirt from your drawer, before pulling out a pair of older jeans. “You kidding me right? I get to hang out with Harry—hear his puns first-hand? I’m more excited than he’ll be.”

“Rainy…”

Your mouth opens, letting out a heavy exhale before you stare at yourself in the mirror. Seeing the smile on your face from his words, finding yourself unable to tear yourself away from it for once. Liking it, the look of joy on your face, the one he etches just from his voice.

“Rainy?”

“It’ll be good for me—think I need to get out of the office, my house.”

There’s a silence, just for a moment. “You okay?”

Muttering an uh-huh back to him as you place him on loudspeaker, dragging the t-shirt over your head before he says your name.

“Just another rough day with a person who is using me as a punching bag. Woke up to an email, but… it’s fine, it’s really fine.”

“I hate that you keep having them.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Me too. I feel like I brave it up and get rid of one and two grow in its place.”

Frankie exhales, his breath sliding down the phone, “Can I do anything?”

“Well, if you don’t mind me being fake Frankie, I’d love to go help Harold out—it’ll be good for me. Feel like… I’m good at something.”

“Rainy.”

“I know,” you say, finger-tracing a pattern on your bedsheets, “I know. But… just how I feel.”

“You’re good at lots of things.”

“Like?”

He snorts, loudly. “Making me laugh.”

“You laughed at a meme for ten minutes the other day about a dog’s tongue poking out.”

“It was hilarious.”

Sitting yourself down, back lying on your made bed, you run a hand down your face. “I’m just a little tired, I think. Usually, it wouldn’t bother me this much.” Frankie makes a noise in agreement, the back of your wrist resting on your forehead. “Truthfully, I want to see if Harold would be impressed by my puns.”

Frankie laughs, more clanging heard under it. “I’ll call him—but only if you promise to let me order you food for when you’re done.”

“Oh. Not worried I’ll get whatever Luca has?”

He snorts, and you can imagine the roll of his eyes even down the phone. “Unless you think you can catch an ear infection, I think you’ll be good.”

Smiling, slowly pulling yourself up to a sitting position, a pang of worry knocks through you—threatens to shake things. “Harold won’t mind, will he… I know you said he runs things differently.”

“I think he’s been wanting to replace me with you since you wandered in that day—he’ll be hoping it becomes permanent.”

Are you doing okay?

Yeah! It’s been fine, most are on palettes. Did spot a large order of butterscotch paint—that for you?

Haha, no. It’s actually been picking up in popularity.

It’s you modelling it on your page.

Shh, no it isn’t.

Baby, I love you—but I saw your latest video. From when you helped Benny, if I wasn’t already getting the chance to be in the sheets with you, I’d be thinking it.

It wasn’t that hot.

You really, really grossly misunderstand how hot you are, Francisco. Your arms for one.

You’re making me blush.

How the turn tables turn. Me, in your apron, you at home being flirted with.

Now I’m picturing you in my apron.

Yeah?

Don’t tell me what’s under it, let me fantasise.

Should I bring it to yours later?

Yeah. Yeah, do that.

There’s something about the noise of fight night.

It is both thrilling and anxiety-inducing as Frankie leads you in, his palm firmly on your back, guiding and easing you in. You reach a hand back to touch his wrist, a comforting ritual you’ve developed since that first time.

Your eyes scan and search for the others, a routine that brings a sense of normalcy to these events. Feet slowing, almost coming to a stop as you see Will wave, drink in hand, pointing at it as you nod back to Frankie and guide him through the growing crowd.

The music is louder tonight, the air tinged with more restlessness as you move, slide, and push your way through until you reach the rope.

“VIP, are we?” you call out, wrapping your arm around Will’s neck in a hug.

“Only the best.”

You step aside as the rope is reattached, letting Frankie and Will greet each other while you wave at the others. Out of the corner of your eye, you see all the slaps on the back, Frankie’s fingers cupping the back of his friend's head as he grins, nods, and talks right into his ear.

Then, there’s an arm around your middle, a familiar warm breath on your ear. “You good, baby?”

“I am.”

His lips press a tender kiss to the side of your head before you follow Will to sit down. As you settle in, you listen to Will telling Frankie that Benny is in the back and how he’s really stepped up over the last few days. You find yourself distracted, your tongue chasing the straw in your drink, until the conversation turns to yoga. Will mentions that you think it’s been quite good for Benny to shut off, and you give Frankie a look, mouthing, ‘Told you,’ to your boyfriend.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Will says suddenly, shouting over the music. “How did it go showing him the—”

Involuntary, your elbow slams into his side mid-sip. Your eyes widen as it forces a cough to smother the other words, staring boldly, almost coldly, right into Will’s face.

“I haven’t had a chance to show Benny the video,” you say, curtly, sharply. “It was very bright in the helicopter.”

You hope the lie is good enough, solid enough. You also hope Will picks up on it. Notice the distress in your eyes as Frankie, who is hanging onto your side and you can feel is darting his eyes from you to his friend and back again.

It takes a second, eyes narrowing, your stomach knotting as you fear the surprise you’ve been planning for Frankie is about to unravel.

“Ah, alright. Well, it would be good to see when it’s ready.”

Nodding, you lean into Frankie’s side, watching his eyes smooth out, relief washing over you as the tension dissipates. “Hey, so how does this night go? Is he the main fight?”

Shaking his head, Frankie adjusts his hold on his drink as he slings his arm around your neck, beginning to explain things as you shoot a smile at Will, managing to catch, quickly, the mouthed apology as you wink and let Frankie explain what tonight is for.

Your phone vibrates on the side, glancing at it as you help Luca roll out a small pizza circle from the dough you made last night.

“Rainy, can you helps me with my hat?”

Fingers adjusting his chef hat further down his head, a thing you hadn’t been sure if he would like until you saw his face light up when you pulled it out with its matching apron.

We should be done in about half an hour. And then I can come inside? You will be greeted at the side door by our mini-waiter who will be happy to show you to your seat. You breaking child working laws, Rainy? He had a work permit I swear.

Stepping back from him, you turn the oven on as you mentally tick off another thing, before scanning over the recipe that you have printed out.

It’s splattered in the sauce you’ve already made—and slightly damp from grabbing Luca's water earlier.

I think you’re lying. I think you grossly misunderstand how seriously we take things at Dino-Moralesaurus Diner. Excellent name though. I can’t take all the credit, your son is a genius.

At the sound of a knock, you help Luca down from the cooking stool Frankie had made him as he runs off excitedly screaming. It’s even harder not to grin at the sound of his boots coming off, as he comments nice hat, chef to Luca as you continue rolling out the dough.

You’re aware you’re covered in flour, that the side is a mess of sauce stains and random half-chopped ingredients.

“What’s this?”

Luca, now hatless, fulfils his duty as a waiter, offering the chalkboard to him as he explains, in the most adorable voice, that the special is pizza, the main is pizza and the dessert is—

“Rainy, what’s the dessert again?”

“Ice cream.”

“’Tis ice cream, Daddy.”

Lifting your head from chopping toppings, you catch his eye and exchange a knowing smile before Luca leads him to the already set table, clinking plates and silverware as he clambers up onto the chair to pour him a glass of lake water.

“Now, tell me, are the pizzas dino shaped?”

“Hmm, lets me ask the chefs. Chef Rainy?”

“Yes, Waiter Luca-saurus.”

You can’t fight the smile that spreads as you announce that unfortunately, tonight's dishes won’t even be fully round, never mind dinosaur-shaped.

By the time you’ve rolled out the dough and just about to begin spreading tomato sauce, Luca decides that there needs to be more dinos on the table. Freeing Frankie from sitting at the table and allowing him to join you.

“Chef Rainy, would you like some help with the toppings?"

“Only because you’re nice to look at,” you say, watching him roll up his sleeves as he moves to stand beside you.

You hand him a spatula for the sauce while you sprinkle cheese. Frankie insists on creating a ‘masterpiece’ with a mix of all the toppings, while you opt for a simpler choice, sprinkling it with fresh basil and tomatoes.

“By the way, Luca’s is store-bought. Thought poisoning your child would be hard for me to live down.”

Together, you lean against the counter as Luca runs back in, little feet slapping against the tiles as more dinosaurs begin filling up the table. Frankie goes into dad mode as he asks if he’s washed his hands before he’s running off again.

It’s barely a few minutes, but the timer goes off. Springing into action, removing Luca’s pizza from the oven—seeing the cheese golden, bubbling, filling the kitchen with a rich, cheesy aroma before you place it down and throw both yours and Frankie’s in.

You call out to Luca, who’s been eagerly waiting in the living room. “Luca-saurus! Your pizza’s ready!”

Luca comes running in, eyes wide with excitement as he climbs onto his chair at the table and you slice it up into smaller pieces and place it down.

“Mmm, this is so good!” he exclaims, his cheeks puffed out like a little chipmunk.

As Luca continues to enjoy his pizza, you and Frankie take a moment to savour the anticipation of your own creations baking in the oven. The timer goes off again, and you carefully remove the pizzas, setting them down on the counter.

“They look amazing,” Frankie says, admiring the crispy edges and perfectly melted cheese.

Taking your first bite, you’re hit with a burst of flavour, the freshness of the basil and the tang of the tomato sauce mingling perfectly with the gooey mozzarella. You share a look with Frankie, who gives you a thumbs-up, his mouth too full to speak.

“How did you like your homemade pizza?” you ask Luca, smiling at his enthusiastic nodding.

“It’s the best pizza ever!” he declares, reaching for another slice.

Frankie leans over, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’ve outdone yourself,” he says softly.

You squeeze his hand, before moving to the sink to begin soaking them—just as Luca drags Frankie to pick the second part of the evening.

By the time you’re joining them, finding your saved spot in between them both, the movie is ready to begin, the opening credits starting before you’ve even got under the blanket. It’s minutes before you feel Frankie’s fingers sliding up and down your shoulder, your head turning, smiling as Luca sighs loudly next to you, eyes still closed, sinking deeper into a heavier sleep.

“You had a nice evening, Butterscotch?”

“Was perfect.”

“Thank you. For letting me do this—let us do this for you.” Shrugging, his free hand stroking over his face. “I’m proud of you. Six years is… monstrous.”

Snorting, resting his head on the back of the sofa, he grins a little wider. “Can tell the pair of you have had the afternoon together—monstrous.”

“He says it better.”

Nodding, Frankie shifts in his place, hand pausing on your shoulder, before squeezing it. “T-thank you. For tonight. For making a big deal but… not making a big deal.”

“Big deal not big deals are kind of my forte.”

Laughing, his thumb and index tracing over his lower lip, as you flick your eyes back to the brightness on the television—the high-pitched voices of the characters making you giggle, as the cartoon scene plays out.

“Wish we could do this all the time,” you whisper, fingers stroking along Luca’s hair—feeling him nuzzle further in the space between your calves and bent knees.

Frankie doesn’t move, or shift, but rather drags his fingers up and draws a different shape on your neck, forcing your eyes to move from the screen to his. And you see it, nestled there—a question, one his mouth opens to speak.

“What?” you ask.

“We could… do this all the time.”

Brows raising, you smile. “Oh? How would we do that?”

“Rainy.”

“Francisco.”

Snorting, continuing his drawing on your arm, he lets out a weighted exhale. “We could… maybe live in one place?”

“Oh?”

His hand slides over your shoulder, squeezing it as your heart races as he takes a breath, as more of his words hang in the air. It isn’t that you haven’t thought about it—that it hasn’t come up casually, a promise of asking you properly previously teased—but now it’s here, there, present.

Things crash into you as you run through the list. The image of waking up with him every morning, is slighted by the worries that he’d grow sick of you if you didn’t have your separate spaces. Would you disappoint him? Would he like the version of you he sees all the time—and not just part of it—

But, even still, the answer is so clearly there, sitting, teetering on the tip of your tongue as you begin to grin, smile. Almost about to answer when Luca mumbles in his sleep beside you, something incoherent before his eyes flip open and he makes a funny noise.

Frankie shifts, hand dropping from you as he calls out his name.

“I… Daddy, I don’t feel very well.”

“Shit,” you whisper as you throw your legs down from the sofa as Frankie moves to kneel at the same time as he whispers, “Mierda.”

The back of his hand presses to the boy’s forehead as Luca begins rubbing his stomach. “You feel sick?”

Luca nods, rubbing his eyes as Frankie helps lift him from his place between the sofa and your legs and makes him stand up.

“You think Daddy was right about all those sprinkles?”

Nodding again, Luca buries his head into Frankie’s neck and chest, little hands sliding around as Frankie looks at you and smiles, reassuringly. “He’ll be fine. But, I’m gonna put him in bed—do not press play without me, Rainy.”

Grinning, your lashes flutter as he lifts his son and stands. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Morales.”

“And, maybe we can finish the conversation too.”

Okay, you whisper—fingers pinching at the skin on the back of your arms as your brain begins to tally, to list, to think.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

an: have you seen the bonus graphics on the masterlist? if you have any moments you'd love to see from the series till now, let me know and i'll make them for after the epilogue (chapter 20)

[meazalykov]

the younger morgan

bayern munich frauen x lena oberdorf x USWNT!bayern!reader

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six

I had just finished unpacking the last of my boxes, and my new apartment in munich felt like home. for once I can breathe and take into my new surroundings. my move to bayern wasn’t confirmed yet, but everyone knew that I wasn’t with san diego anymore due to the post I made to Instagram last night, with the permission of wave, bayern munich and my agent maggie.

(pretend this is you and you are in the photos below)

y/n.morgan

(tagged: y/n.morgan & alexmorgan)

(tagged: y/n.morgan & emilyvanegmond10)

liked by alexmorgan13, stanwaygeorgia, and 59,482 others

y/n.morgan Dear San Diego Wave,

Thank you for one of the most special moments of my life. No amount of words can express the amount of love I have for you all. To my teammates, coaches, staff, and even to my sister thank you for your support during my first year of professional ball. All of the love on and off the pitch means more to me than you'll ever know. To the fans, thank you for your unrelenting support for SD Wave and never failing to make home games feel special. I am so grateful for the memories and friendships I've made here.

I have come to the part of my journey where I can say that I am proud of myself on and off of the pitch, and I am happy for what's yet to come. I cannot wait to see what this next chapter holds.

Go Wave! 🌊

-(initial)M17

comments

alexmorgan13 My favorite girl. I'm so proud. You should be excited for what's next. I love you 🩵

malpugh 🙌

wosofan78 OMG THE BAYERN RUMORS ARE TRUE??

naomi_girma you are so amazing ❤️

bayernfrauenluvr Welcome to Munich 🇩🇪

womenssportsgirl Stanway x Morgan linkup will be deadly omg

random563829 oh shitttt

chelsfemten I wish you went to Chelsea 😣

----

as I sat on my ivory sectional sofa watching netflix, my phone vibrated on my coffee table twice. out of confusion, since I don’t have any plans for another few days, I reached my arm over to grab my phone. 

georgia S: each room will have two people since the whole squad is coming lolll everyone will figure out who their roommates are once we get there

georgia S: everyone else cannot wait to meet you! 

when I chose bayern munich as my next club, i reached out to my only friend who plays at the club. georgia stanway. we had connected through social media almost a year ago because we have a few mutuals in the football community. she was excited and offered to help me transition into the club comfortably. as a start, I suddenly found myself going on a trip with them to ibiza in three days.

georgia had mentioned the Ibiza trip the same afternoon i landed in germany. I met her in person for the first time at a cafe along with giulia gwinn.

they’re sweet girls and we clicked right away, spending the entire evening together just walking around the bavarian city. As we were in a clothing store looking around at random pieces, giulia mentioned how everyone thought the trip would be a fantastic way to welcome me and a few other new girls onto the team and bond as a team before the new season kicked off.

i’ve never been to Ibiza in my life. alex used to spend her early 20s partying there from what I remember as a child. if Ibiza was like anything I've seen from social media– with its sun-drenched beaches, and vibrant nightlife– it seemed like the perfect setting for new friends.

I could hardly wait to meet my new teammates in a more relaxed and fun environment. the pitch could be intense.

while I had yet to officially step onto the pitch with the girls, I felt a connection with georgia and giulia-- I hope the same goes with the other girls on the team.

i’ve already signed a four-year contract with Bayern, and did the media stuff– but the media crew told me that they wouldn’t announce it online until June 27th. it's 16 days until then so I might have to be lowkey with the Ibiza stuff. it depends on what Maggie might suggest.

Y/n M: That's fine! 

Y/n M: I cannot wait to meet the rest of the team too! I am so excited :D

as I responded back to georgia before putting my phone back onto the coffee table, I walked around my neatly arranged apartment.

in my head, i knew I had made the right decision. after leaving San Diego, i felt free.

I know the comparisons with my sister will never end but at least I can be my own person at a club where my sister (barely) has influence.

I walk into my bedroom and pull out my pink suitcase, the same suitcase I traveled with a week before moving here. i started to overpack my bags, as per usual, with bikinis, linen clothing, and gym clothes because I know I'll go on runs there.

we are staying on the party island for a full week so I am excited— and nervous.

will the girls like me? is bayern the experience i've been looking for?

the language barrier won't be a problem since Giulia told me that many of the girls speak fluent english, but I will make an effort to learn the german language throughout my four years here too.

---

three days later– the car ride through the roads of ibiza was a relief after the plane ride that seemed to last forever. I sat in the back seat of the van with giulia, sydney, and sam, while georgia was up front, chatting loudly with klara. 

the mediterranean sun cast a warm glow over everything. its ten in the morning so nothing is going on so far. though, i could feel the excitement bubbling up inside me. it was hard to believe i was finally here, on this beautiful island, ready to bond with my new teammates in a new club!

"so, y/nnn," sydney turned around in her seat to look at me, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as i raised my eyebrows at her, "how has germany been to you so far?"

i thought for a moment, “honestly, its been good. i haven’t done much so far but i did see georgia and giulia on my first day in munich"

sydney nodded, her blonde hair catching the sunlight through her window seat. "thats fun! are you ready for the new season?"

all of the girls have been asking me questions since we took off on the plane to ibiza, i don’t mind it. i’ve been asking them questions as well. i’m new so they’re (rightfully) curious about me and my life. 

"yes i'm looking forward to it," i said, nodding my head as my mind was clouded with images of myself wearing the red kits. "i’ve heard so much great things about bayern– its going to be exciting to play here for the first time"

“however- i am looking forward to the olympics first.” i smirked at sydney who rolled her eyes playfully. 

germany and the united states will face each other in the group stage, which is something that was briefly mentioned on the plane. 

“same here.” sydney said as her left arm nudged my right. 

“when we crush you, we will be the first to comfort you– don’t worry.” klara laughed from the passenger seat. my jaw dropped playfully as i placed my hand on her shoulder, “you wish!” 

“game on, number 17!” klara laughs. 

giulia chimes in, ignoring the playful jokes between me and the other two germans in the car "y/n we’re excited to have you at bayern. ibiza will be so much fun i promise– we do these trips every summer. also, georgia's been telling us about how you two have been friends for a while now.” 

“we have!” i say as i look at georgia’s eyes through her rearview mirror. 

"we met through instagram, actually," the english girl explained, glancing back at me. 

sam laughed. "oh really?? i never knew that!” 

“yeah– you gotta love social media.” 

as we continued our drive, the conversation flowed easily. they asked about my sister, my favorite hobbies, and what I was looking forward to most in ibiza. it felt so natural, something i appreciated deep down. 

eventually, we pulled up to the airbnb, a stunning villa nestled among palm trees with a view of the sparkling sea in the back. 

my heart raced with excitement and a touch of nervousness as everyone got out of the van and grabbed their luggage from the trunk. the rest of the girls from bayern were already in the airbnb, lounging around the pool and enjoying the sunshine while they waited for us. 

as the five of us approached, the girls who had arrived earlier ran out of the front door to greet us. i hung back slightly as the other girls greeted their friends. my social anxiety has gotten better in the last few years, but meeting new people still made me shy.

a girl whos a bit shorter than me– saw me and with a warm smile, was the first to approach me. she hugged me and my arms wrapped around her body too. 

"heyyy, you must be y/n. i’m ines," she said, extending her hand. she had a french accent and a nice smile. "i’ve been waiting to meet you finally!"

"hiiii, it's great to meet you," i replied, pulling away from her body with a warm smile on my face.

the rest of the team came outside from the villa and followed suit. 

after everyone was inside of the villa, ii was starting to feel more at ease when I noticed a girl I hadn’t seen before. she was taller than me with nice brown hair– she had a striking aura to her and an air of confidence that drew me in.

she stood beside lea, who nodded her head towards me. 

"heyyy," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. she walked closer to me as i sat my luggage beside the couch. i’ll take it upstairs later.  "i don't think we've met yet. i am lena."

"hi," i replied, feeling a slight blush rise to my cheeks. "i'm y/n.” 

lena nodded, a playful smile on her lips as she noticed my stiff look. "you don’t have to be shy with me, i just transferred from another club too."

we stood there, the world around us fading slightly as i looked her up and down quickly. she wore black shorts and a lavender colored t-shirt. god– her presence was magnetic, and I found myself genuinely attracted to her.

"looks like we'll have to stick together then," i said, trying to sound casual as i held my hands to the front of my body.

"for sure," lena replied, her eyes brightened.

our interaction was interrupted by the rest of the team, who had clearly noticed our little exchange. anybody around the both of you could see the chemistry. there were knowing smiles that the girls gave each other, which i pretended to ignore as georgia walked to me.

"alright, lovebirds, let’s get you settled in," georgia teased, pulling me away gently as i grabbed my luggage from the side of the couch. "y/n and I are sharing a room upstairs."

as you walked away– lena checked you out. you wore a black tube top along with 501 levi shorts.

lea noticed lena’s looks, and nudged her shoulder playfully. 

“you like her?” lea smirked. 

“she's so beautiful– are they together?” lena knitted her eyebrows together as she saw you walk up the stairs, blushing at something while georgia laughed. 

“no they aren’t. they’ve been friends for a while and she’s single. you should try to get to know her!” sydney chimed into the conversation, seeing lena smile at the confirmation of you being single. 

as i walked into georgia and i’s shared bedroom– my eyes widened. there were two queen sized beds. there are two sets of doors as well. i walked towards the white one which opened to a white spacious bathroom. the other doors had glass windows which lead out to the balcony, where you could see a beach with clear blue water. 

georgia and i started unpacking in a few moments of silence– before she spoke up.

"so, lena, huh?" georgia said with a grin, glancing at me. 

as we headed up the stairs away from lena earlier, she already teased me about it. i ignored her– but i don’t think georgia will take nothing as an answer.

i giggled, feeling a bit flustered as i organized my things in the suitcase. "yeah– she seems nice. its nice to meet someone who's also new to the team."

"uh-huh, sure," georgia said, winking as she walked into the bathroom. 

“what is that supposed to mean?” i called out as my face had a look of confusion. 

"i don’t know– but just remember, we’re here to bond with everyone. don’t get too distracted by her sexy looks."

i rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. i stood up from sitting on the floor as i threw myself onto georgia’s bed. "don't worry, i’m here to bond with the entireeeee team. lena’s just–a bonus!"

georgia laughed. inside of my head, the girl from earlier wouldn’t leave my mind. 

maybe this trip got better, before it even started.

----

hours later laying on my beach towel, i watched most of the other girls in the water as i tanned on the sand. the gentle waves were lapping at the shore and the laughter of the girls was in my hearing. 

it was surreal to think that just a few weeks ago, i was anxiously packing my bags in california, wondering what my new life in germany would be like. now, here I am in spain, on a stunning beach, feeling like i already fit in with my new team.

my brown tote bag took my attention and i quickly pulled out my digital camera. photography had always been a passion of mine, a perfect hobby outside of soccer. 

seeing most of the girls out in the water, i started snapping photos of them. 

their carefree smiles, the silly handstands that pernille started doing under the water with her legs poking out the surface, sam giving sydney a piggy back ride, tainara splashing water on georgia– everyone looked so happy.

there were girls on the sand eating snacks, checking their phones, playing volleyball with their feet, and laying peacefully getting a tan. i took pictures of them too. 

"do you want me to take a picture of you?” a voice said behind me after i snapped a picture of madga with her body buried in the sand– except for her head– thanks to ana and lea. 

i turned around and it was lena. she wore a nice black swimsuit that showed her abs. i had abs too, thanks to soccer, but hers just complimented her so well. 

there was something about her that I couldn't get out of my mind, but i ignored those thoughts as i clutched my camera tightly to my body.

"oh no thank you, it's fine, really," I replied, a bit shy. standing in my red swimsuit, i gave her a faint smile as before she shook her head at me. 

"nonsense," lena insisted with a grin, reaching for the camera as she slowly took it out of my hands. "you need to be in some of these pictures too."

lena took a few steps back with the camera, instructing me on acting casual, making me laugh in the process. 

i laid in the sand and grabbed my book, pretending to read as lena stood. she stopped taking pictures for a few seconds and told me to sit up. confused, i raised my eyebrows before she gave me a random white hat– belonging to lea– to wear on my head. 

after a few more shots, she handed the camera back to me.

"see? not so bad," she said, laying back down on a towel– belonging to georgia– next to mine.

"thank you, lena. you're a pretty good photographer," i said, feeling a bit more at ease as i looked through the pictures on the screen of my camera.

"anytime," she replied, her smile softening. "how did you get into photography? we all have a photographer who plays on the german national team as well."

“wait– are you referring to laura?” 

“you know laura?” lena asked. 

“yes i do! she knows a few of my friends that went to penn state with her. we exchanged jerseys back when the united states played you guys in miami. we took pictures together after that game” i said. 

“oh i remember that!” lena says. 

“you were there?!” i asked. lena’s jaw drops in offense– playfully of course– at my question. 

“yes! you don’t remember the small confrontation we had?” lena asks. my eyebrows knit together in confusion. for a few second, my mind goes blink at trying to remember. 

“you nearly scored but i side tackled you by the box. you didn’t like it so you tackled me a few minutes afterwards when i had the ball in midfield.” lena says, helping me recall the memory. 

my eyes widened as i remembered that moment, but i never connected it to lena. 

“you’re number 6 oberdorf?! oh i was very annoyed by that!” i say. lena and i laugh before we looked out at some of the girls who were getting out of the water. 

“anyways, i got my first camera from my sister when i was 12. she can be blamed for why i own many cameras now.” i say. 

“alex?” lena asked. 

“yes. alex was going to the world cup in 2015 and she got me a camera the year before. during that world cup I always took pictures of her from my spot. she let me take pictures of her with the trophy afterwards. it was one of the first moments that made me fall in love with something outside of football.” i say. lena smiled at me as I looked over at her. 

“wooo hooo!!!” i heard georgia yell out as she runs back in the sand from the water. as i placed my digital camera back into my tote bag, i suddenly felt a light amount of water splash on my body. 

my jaw drops as i see georgia laugh. from the looks of her very wet hair, she whipped her hair forward so all of the water hit my body. 

“stop it!” i giggled as i stood up from my towel and started running away from the soaked girls. 

“get her!!” sam laughed as i got chased through the sand by sydney, sam, klara, lena, and georgia. 

(pretend this is you in the picture below)

y/n.morgan

liked by alexmorgan13, lenaoberdorf, and 37,931 others

y/n.morgan ibiza ibiza 🐚

comments

alexmorgan13 No invitation? 🥲

y/n.morgan sorry sister ❤️

malpugh 😍

stanwaygeorgia at least you got the pictures before you got thrown into the water 😊

y/n.morgan thanks to you and obi 😞

lenaoberdorf a good photographer must've taken these pictures for you 😁

y/n.morgan yes they've done a great job!!

sydneylohmann 🙌🌊

leaschuller is that my hat?

stanwaygeorgia yes 🧢

wosofans7 ALL OF THE BAYERN GIRLS IN THE COMMENTS?

wavesnwsl THIS POST I THINK I FAINTED

wosonews most of the bayern girls are in ibiza too, looks like y/n's transfer is basically confirmed

~view all 2,711 comments~

part three here

<3

[winterrrnight]

“here we are again” — new beginnings chapter II

PAIRING: stepdad!soft!rafe x mom!reader

WARNINGS: none!

EDITH SPEAKS: hello mls! I hope you enjoy reading this chapter <3 just a lil note: updates will get a bit sporadic for the upcoming week or so because I have some big things coming up which unfortunately require more attention than my silly little fics :( I greatly apologise for that, but let me tell you once I'm free I'll have great fics awaiting you all!!

please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading and don't hesitate to let me know any of your thoughts 💕💕

navigation || join my taglist || requests || series masterlist

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↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You let out a huge sigh as you lean back in your chair and close your eyes shut. You’ve been trying to find a good preschool for Sage, after you had to pull her out of the one she was earlier in because their fees increased exponentially, and unfortunately you haven’t been earning enough to support Sage going to such an expensive school.

“Mamma mamma!” You hear her call you out from a different room. Her footsteps are audible as she comes running to you, basically banging the floor with her feet.

“Mamma!” She says, smiling wide, standing next to the front legs of your chair and tugging on your pants. You look down at her and plaster a big smile on your face, picking her up and placing her on your lap.

“Yes baby?” You coo, leaning to press a kiss on her soft cheek, which is tinted a light pink.

“I made something for you! You have to see it now,” she says, now tugging on your crewneck. You get up from your chair, Sage on your hip as you go to the room she was just in.

You set her down on the floor, and she picks up a folded paper. “Here,” she grins, and you take the paper from her.

You unfold it and you see a drawing of you, her, and one strange man standing next to the two of you. She’s colored in the drawings, her colors going out of her drawn lines, assuming their own directions, but nevertheless, you can’t help but grin wide at the present.

“Sage baby,” you get on your knees in front of her, “this is so cute! You’re my talented little kiddo, aren’t you?” You smile, tickling her sides. She laughs and squirms to get away from you, her little hands trying to swat you away.

“But who is that?” You ask, pointing at the drawing of the strange man.

“Fafe!” She yells excitedly.

“Fafe? Who’s ‘Fafe’ baby?”

“We met him, at the, at the store! He was big, veryyy big!”

And suddenly it strikes you. The handsome, handsome man who you met at the grocery store. It’s been around a week since that day and you had nearly forgotten about him.

Nearly.

Until this exact moment.

Now everything comes back to you; the exact moment you saw him, your eyes sinking into his, your heart beating so loud it might as well jump out of your chest.

“I remember him baby, why did you draw him?”

“Because, because he was very nice to me,” she says, her hands at her back as she’s swaying side to side in her position.

You aren’t sure what to reply to her with. She drew a man you met and didn’t even talk for more than five minutes on a random Tuesday, and showed you three being a family.

Dad, mom, and Sage. A family.

Is she expecting you two to just get married to him? To bring him in your house this quick?

But, at the end of the day, she’s a four year old little girl, with a wild imagination, and a desire to have a father figure in her life.

You’ve tried your level best to never let Sage feel the lack of a father in her life, but you always knew deep in your heart that one day, she will wonder why she only has a single parent, and why can’t she have two parents like all her friends. But you never expected this day to come so early.

You shake your head and come back to reality, and let a smile pull onto your lips. “I’ll hang this on the fridge next to all your other art,” you tell her, and she jumps up and down with excitement. You make your way to your kitchen, your daughter on your heels as she’s giggling, and you pin her drawing up with a magnet next to the rest. You take a step back to admire the splash of colors on your fridge door, your heart feeling content.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You smooth out the wrinkles in her dress, and tie the bow of her dress tightly. Sage is especially giggly today, your hands roaming over her little body which constantly creates a tickling sensation on her skin.

“Mamma, where are we going?” She asks you, carefully pocketing a candy you gave her. You pick her up and take her to your kitchen island, settling her in her chair to hand her her cereal.

“We’re going to a new school baby,” you say, pouring milk into her bowl and mixing it well with her fruit loops.

“But, I love home,” she puts, her eyes big and wide, and you know she’s trying her best to convince you to stay at home by putting on a puppy dog face.

“You know that face doesn’t work on me,” you smile, sitting next to her, and gently smoothing a hand over her hair. She only giggles as her answer and you pick up her spoon, and start to feed her. Even though she knows how to eat on her own, you’re worried she might get messy and spill the milk on her dress.

You were worried she might not like the idea of going to a new school. She really liked the previous one, but you knew you couldn’t keep her in there for long. But here she is sitting next to you, eating her cereal as excitedly as if you’re about to go to an amusement park.

Once she’s done eating, you both leave for the school. This one also happens to be closer to your home than the last one, so you're quick to reach there. You help Sage get out of the car, her light bag hanging on her shoulders and her hand securely in yours, as you lead her to the main doors of the school.

When you go inside, the receptionist leads you to the classroom Sage has been assigned to. A few children are sitting on the floor of the classroom, empty white sheets spread around them along with unopened boxes of paint.

You hear Sage audibly gasp as she notices all the art supplies, her eyes shining with a desire to create art. You look around the classroom to spot a teacher, but there’s no one to be seen.

You decide to maybe talk to the receptionist once again; maybe she’s making a mistake? You leave Sage in the classroom and turn around, and almost in the next fraction of the second you bang into a broad chest.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry!” You grunt, your eyes closed from the impact. You run a hand over your forehead, feeling a slight pain from your collision into the broad and muscular chest.

You finally open your eyes, and you see the last person you would expect to be here.

“Rafe?”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

what do you all think Rafe is doing there? 🤭

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[nhlclover]

' 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 ' | 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

summary: being pwhl montreal's newest star, you get paired up with cole caufield to do a joint interview.

warnings: pwhl!reader, smau (this is my first time doing an smau so please only constructive criticism), quite a few uses of y/n, using a photo of mariah koepple but not as a faceclaim, cringy flirty banter

word count: 1.57k

The bright lights of the Bell Centre cast a vibrant glow over the ice, the freshly zambonied sheet pristine and inviting, free of skate marks. Stepping onto the ice felt like stepping into the next chapter of your life, a dream realized.

It’s been about 2 months since you were drafted into the PWHL by PWHL Montreal, fulfilling a lifelong dream of yours. The past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions, from the excitement of draft day to jumping straight into the intense training sessions. Scattered in between, you’ve been able to get to know your teammates who have helped you settle into the new city by showing you around.

Though the PWHL season was still a while away, the NHL season was fast approaching, and you found yourself at the Bell Centre for media day with the Montreal Canadiens. You were slated for a joint interview with one of the Canadiens players, followed by a shooting competition.

Gliding around one end of the ice, you took a few shots on the net with the pucks that were scattered around. The camera crew was setting up their equipment at the other end, preparing for the interview.

From the direction of the bench, you heard the distinctive sound of skates cutting into the ice. Turning around, you saw Cole Caufield skating towards you, his Canadiens home jersey contrasting sharply with the ice beneath him. A bright smile lit up his face as he approached.

“Hey, rookie,” Cole greeted with a playful grin.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” you introduce yourself.

“I know who you are,” Cole said. “They talk more about you than they did about me when I got here.”

You couldn’t help but feel a blush appear on your cheeks at his words. You were a pretty highly touted prospect going into the draft, and when Montreal drafted you, the hockey-crazed city hyped you up even more. You were the talk of Montreal hockey, surpassing even the Canadiens' new rookies.

“Oh, come on, you’re just saying that,” you replied, trying to downplay your embarrassment.

“Not at all,” Cole said. “I’m pretty sure you’ve stolen my thunder.”

You chuckled, feeling a mix of pride and shyness. “Well, I guess it’s not every day a new star comes to town,” you replied, trying to match his playful tone.

Cole laughed, the sound echoing in the nearly empty arena. “True, true. But don’t worry, I’ll let you borrow it for a bit. Just don’t get too comfortable,” he teased, winking at you.

His wink caught you off guard, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You felt your heart skip a beat and hoped the blush that had already crept onto your cheeks didn’t deepen too much. There was something undeniably charming about Cole’s playful confidence, and you found yourself momentarily at a loss for words.

A couple seconds later, the crew calls the two of you over to begin the interview. You and Cole took your spots on either side of the interviewer on the Montreal Canadiens bench. You watched as a producer gave the interviewer cues to start the interview.

“Hey everyone, I am here with Cole Caufield, forward for the Montreal Canadiens, and PWHL Montreal’s first round pick, y/n l/n.” the interviewer says. “Welcome y/n and Cole, it’s great to have you both here today.”

"Thanks for having us," you said, giving a nod to the camera.

“Yeah, this is awesome,” Cole added.

The interviewer turned to you first. “Y/n, you're about to start your first season with Montreal's PWHL team. What are you most looking forward to?”

You couldn’t hide your excitement as your face lit up. “Honestly, I'm just excited to get out on the ice and play with such an incredible group of girls. We've got a lot of talent, and I think we're gonna have something special this season. Plus, the energy from the fans here in Montreal is just amazing.”

He nodded appreciatively and then looked at Cole. “And Cole, as someone who's been playing in Montreal for a while, do you have any advice for y/n?”

Cole thought for a second before speaking. “Just soak it all in. The city's passionate about hockey, and it can be intense, but it's also one of the best places to play. Stay focused, enjoy the ride, and don't be afraid to lean on your teammates. The vets were the best in my first couple of seasons, they always had great advice if I needed any.”

“That’s some wise advice.” the interviewer says, drawing laughs from the both of you. “Y/n, what do you think will be your biggest challenge this season?”

“I think adjusting to the pace and physicality of the professional level will be a big step up from college hockey. But I’ve been training hard this offseason, and I’m ready to face those challenges head-on. Having a supportive team and coaching staff definitely helps.”

The interviewer nods and turns to Cole. “Cole, what's one thing about playing in Montreal that you think will surprise y/n?”

Cole grins. “The fans. They’re not just passionate, they’re everywhere. You’ll get recognized on the streets, at restaurants, pretty much anywhere you go. It’s a bit overwhelming at first, but it’s also pretty amazing to have that kind of support.”

“Well, it sounds like an exciting season ahead for both of you.” he says, looking back at the camera. “Well, now we’re going to get to the exciting bit of the interview and get ready to watch Cole and y/n go head to head in a little shooting competition.”

The three of you get up from the bench, heading over to the net set up in front of cameras.

“Now’s the time to prove that you’re worth all the hype,” Cole said teasingly as he skated by you.

You rolled your eyes at Cole's comment, but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, I'm not worried," you shot back. "Just try to keep up, okay?"

Cole laughed, the sound light and genuine, the both of you skating between the circles. The crew had set up a series of targets in the net, and as the two of you lined up, the interviewer explained the rules. "Alright, y/n and Cole, there are five targets in the net, whoever hits all five in the shortest amount of time wins. Have you guys placed any wagers on this?"

You and Cole both laugh, you shaking your head.

“How about we make a little bet? Loser buys the winner dinner.” Cole suggested.

“Dinner, huh?” you mused. “I hope you’re ready to spend big because I’m gonna win.”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Cole said, a small smirk tugging on his lips. His confident nature made your heart skip a beat.

“Alright, Mr. Confident, let’s see what you’ve got,” you challenged.

“Okay, okay, we’ve got a little competition going now.” the interviewer commented.

“Just so you know,” Cole says, “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“Good,” you replied, feeling a thrill of anticipation. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Alright, Cole, you'll go first. I’ll serve you the pucks and you’ve just gotta shoot them.” the interviewer explains. “Y/n count us down when we’re ready.”

The interviewer heads to the right of the net where a pile of pucks sit, while Cole sets up in between the dots. “Alright, ready?” you ask. “Three… two… one… go!”

On your call, Cole starts shooting, aiming for the targets in the corners and center of the net. He fires pucks off like bullets, shooting them impressively into the net. He hits three of the targets consecutively, but it takes him a couple extra shots to get all five targets.

19.47 ends up being his time — and the time for you to beat if you want Cole to treat you to dinner. “Nice shots, old man.” you tease.

“Old man? I’m only 2 years older than you, watch it.” Cole retorts.

You giggle and skate to where Cole was, waiting for the crew to replace the targets in the net. Once everything's set, Cole counts you down. You fire pucks into the net, albeit not as hard as Cole’s. However, you were able to pick your spots, being able to get all five targets in 17.33.

When you hear your time, you do an over the top celebration, skating around Cole and showing off. Cole groaned dramatically, but a genuine smile couldn’t help but tug on his lips.

“Looks like you owe me dinner,” you said triumphantly.

The interviewer thanks you both for joining them, you and Cole skating off towards the dressing room together. You finally speak once the two of you are alone in the dressing room.

“You don’t actually have to take me out to dinner,” you tell him.

Cole turns to face you as he pulls off his jersey. “I want to.” he says earnestly. “I mean… I’d like to take you out for dinner. As long as you’re down.”

You smile at his sudden shy demeanor, a swift change from his confident attitude on the ice. “Are you asking me on a date, Cole?”

Cole’s cheeks flushed pink as he scratched the back of his neck. “Would that be okay if I did?”

You grinned. “It’d be great.”

"Great," Cole said, his grin matching yours. "It's a date."

———

canadiens.pwhl Cole Caufield and Y/N L/N getting friendly in their newest interview for Sportsnet 👀 Do we have another Habs bachelor off the market?

( loading comments )

user1 montreals newest it couple i'm calling it

user2 they are so cute together

user3 power couple‼️

user4 the greatest hockey player in montreal and cole caufield

user5 LMAOOOO

user6 look at his smile🥹🥹

user7 he looks so happy with her

user8 god could they be more obvious??

user9 ??

user8 i mean they're clearly dating they didn't even try and hide it lol

user10 aw now cole doesn't have to third wheel nick and caitlin

user11 my literal parents

user12 omg same hey twin

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 6: "It's good to be back!"

Dipper POV

I wake up with a splitting headache. I groan as I sit up, pressing and rubbing my fits against the temples of my forehead. I swing my legs off my bed and hiss out in pain from moving to fast.

"Damnit....Bill.." I said while standing up and leaning against the wall for support. "My head...hurts so much."

I hear Bill laugh before he speaks. "Sorry, pinetree, I couldn't help myself. Seeing the fear in those meatsacks' eyes brought so much joy!"

I tense from his shouting. "Please...no screaming." I beg while slowly walking to the restroom next door to my room.

"Right, you had a pretty memorable night, huh?" Bill chuckles.

I take off my t-shirt and sweat pants, turning on the shower to warm water setting. I step inside, letting out a sigh as my tense body slowly relaxes. I lower my body underneath the showerhead, humming to the feeling of the warm water running down my body and soothing my headache.

"Yes, but enough with games. My plan is to bring you back today, but I can't think of who my last sacrifice will be."

"Haha, oh come on, pinetree. I'm sure there's someone out there who's stupid enough to get close to you -"

Bill is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door opening. "Oh! Oops, my bad dude. Didn't know anyone was in here." I hear Soos say.

I sigh heavily, pushing my wet hair from my face. I peek my head out of the shower currant. "So you're saying you didn't hear the water running through the door?"

Soos shrugs his shoulders. "Nope! But I'll wait until you're done. See ya later, dude." He said while walking out.

A smirk plays its way onto my lips as I pull my head back under the showerhead. "I think I found the idiot I can lead to their death...hehe." I chuckle while washing my hair and body.

"I forgot all about good old question mark! This is going to be hilarious to watch playout! Hahaha!" Bill laughs.

"Indeed." I said as I turned the water off and stepped out of the shower.

I wrap a towel around my waist and walk to my room. I open the door and walk inside, locking it behind myself. I drop the towel while walking to my dresser and pull out black shorts and a black tank top along with some boxers.

I dry my body, putting on my clothes. I place the towel on top of my head, and I walk down the stairs. I raise an eyebrow at everyone. No one's in the kitchen, but everyone is in the living room.

"Uh, why is everyone..." I trail off while walking into the living room. I look at the tv blankly. The news is on.

"A crazed serial killer is still on the lose. The bodies that were found and identified as Robert Stacey Valebtino, Tambry, Susan Wentworth, and Pacifica Elias Northwest. The police haven't figured out a clear motive nor how the murders could possibly be linked. I'm Jessica Jimenez, leaving a warning: be at home before sunset, lock your doors and possibly your windows, and stay safe. And now for the weather -"

Stan turns the Tv off to comfort a crying Wendy and Mable. Ford, however, is taking notes on his notepad, possibly writing everything the reporter stated. I sigh, walking over to Wendy, rubbing my hand up and down her back.

"Ahahahaha! Look at all the chaos and fear you put into those meatsacks! So proud of you, pinetree!" Bill cheers.

I feel my cheeks begin to heat up at Bill's words. I shake my head at the sound of Ford's voice. Everyone turns their attention to him.

"Stan and I will be leaving to hunt down this killer. My thoughts are that whoever is doing this has found out how to summon Bill."

Everyone's eyes widen at the mention of Bill, but my eyes hold shock for a different reason. "Just how did Ford figure it out? The deaths aren't linked in anyway....Unless he's referring to me killing two members of the cipher wheel." I thought to myself.

"What makes you think that grunlke Ford?" I question out loud.

"This killer only needs one more life to take. The fact that this killer killed two members of the cipher will speak for itself. So, in order to prevent such a thing from happening, Stan and I will find this killer and turn him or her over to the police."

Everyone nods their head in understanding as the two prepare to leave. "And no one is allowed to leave for any reason. Do I make myself clear?" Stan said rather sternly.

I sigh heavily while everyone else nods. They walk out the front door, leaving Wendy, Soos, Mable, and me.

"Soooooooo....duck detective?"

Wendy drys her tears and stands up. "I c-can't right now....I have to plan h-his funeral." She whispers, her voice cracking.

"And I have to talk with Candy and Grenda like we promised." Mable said while standing up and walking into her room.

"Oh...alright." Soos said sadly.

I watch as the two leave with a smirk on my lips. I glance at Soos as I stand. "Hey Soos, remember how we used to be dino bros?" I ask.

"Yeah, dude! It was so much fun....you know before the fight we had and almost being killed -"

"Right, right. How would you like to be killer hunters?"

"That would be awesome! It's been a while since I've been on an adventure."

"You didn't understand what I asked. Would you like to come with me to find the killer? Stan and Ford are too old to do it alone."

"Uh...I don't know, man, Stan did say not to leave no matter what." Soos points out with uncertainty.

"Oh come oooon Soos! They'll thank us for catching them!" I answer back.

"Well....if you say so! I trust you, Dipper."

"Great! Just let me get a few things, and we'll be on our way." I said while turning to leave the room.

"Hehe, things just got interesting.", Bill hums.

I chuckle while walking up the stairs to my room. "They have...yes they have."

■■■■

Mable POV

I sigh as I lay back in my bed, petting waddles with my good hand. I still can't believe that Dipper did that to me....he changed ever since that day. I blame myself for everything....I was drunk and just wanted to be cool. I can never forgive myself for that.

I sit up, hearing the door open to my room. It's Wendy. She's been down and out since Robbie was killed. She mentioned how he never came home last night but didn't think too much of it. I always thought Robbie and Tembery would last....I wonder what happened.

"Hey, uh Mable, have you seen dipper? I want him to look after the shack while I make a quick run. Soos isn't here either, so...." She trialed on.

"Huh?! But Stan said not to leave....should we tell them?"

She shrugs, "eh maybe...I'm sure they're safe."

But I don't believe it. Something feels off... really off. Dipper is different, far darker than he was back then. I never knew that he got the Cipher wheel on his back...I would sometimes hear him whispering in his room in the middle of the night. I don't know if it's me or the Mable juice, but Dipper isn't... dipper.

I hear Stan and Ford enter my room with a strange expression.....fear? "Grunlke Stan? Grunlke Ford? What's the matter?"

"No time to explain. Where's Dipper and Soos? We looked all over the shake but couldn't find them. We were hoping they were in here..." Ford said while nervously looking around my room.

"I don't know. I saw them walking into the forest through the window, just thought they were going to help you two find the murderer." I point out while smiling.

"Uh kid... we already know who the murderer is." Stan said in disbelief.

"Well, say it, old man." Wendy said in an impatient tone.

"Dipper. He's the killer." Ford finally said, his voice full of dread.

Wendy laughs as if it was a joke, but the look on my grunlkes faces says it all. The feeling in my chest grew heavier. How could my twin brother..be a killer?

I feel tears fill my eyes as I stare down at my broken wrist. "Wh-what makes you think that -"

"No time to explain! Get ready. We are leaving now before it's too late."

"What do you mean?" Wendy questions warily.

"Before Dipper brings back Bill."

□□□□

Dipper POV

As we get closer and closer to Bill's stature, the wider my smile becomes. So close...so so close...

"Aye dude, where are we going?" Soos asks while glancing around. "Isn't this where that Bill guy stature is?"

I turn around and chuckle, my vision flashing to yellow. "Yes. Yes, it is."

I can sense the fear coming off of Soos. It only makes my excitement grow. We approach his stature. I see tree veins wrapped all around his poor stature. I groan at the sight but smile as I hear Soos backing away from me.

"I don't know about this man. Dipper, I think w-we should head back..."

I chuckle, my chuckles changing to laughs, my voice becoming mixed with Bill's. "Sorry, question mark! But pinetree has other things planned."

I drop my bag, pulling out a pistol I took from my father before leaving for gravity falls. I turn around, aiming the gun right in between his eyes. "Dino bros... yeah, sure, when I was twelve. But things are different now....very different. Think about it this way! Your sacrifice will soon bring me happiness!"

Soos eyes begin to fill with tears, which only makes me laugh more. "Dipper, you can't do this, dude! Wh-what about your family?...you can't do this to us!"

"Family?....Bill is my only family." I frown before shooting him, killing him instantly.

I watch his eyes roll back as blood spats on my face. I place my gun back into my bag, picking up Bill's stature and placing it in the middle of an open space. I pull out a can of blue spray paint, drawing a huge circle around it. I then draw a star, the corners over the star with circles on the tips. I reach back into my back for the jars and 5 candles and a lighter.

I quickly place the jars and candles inside the circles on the tips of the star. I quickly open each jar, lighting up the candles. I watch as the red flame quickly turns blue. I stand before my art, my hard work finally paying off.

My smile disappears as I hear my name being called. I ignore it, holding my arms in the air as the palms of my hands glow with blue flames. "L-T-O-L-O-X-A! His time has come to rise! I invoke the ancient power that Bill has returned!!" I shout to the top of my lungs as my body begins to float from the ground.

"We're too late...." I hear Ford whisper in grief.

I watch as Bill's stature begins to float from the ground as the souls merge with it. The sky darkens, and reality freezes, turning to black and white. A bright yellow glow comes from the stature, causing everyone's eyes to shut tightly. Once everything settles down, I'm greeted by the voice I've yearned to hear from outside my head after all these years.

"Oh, gravity falls, it is good to be back! What is this? The second time?"

[mayajadewrites]

could've been you - aizawa, hawks

✦ synopsis: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy.

✦ chapter content warnings: none

✦ relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader

chapter ten

ao3

TAG LIST:

@come-away-with-me87, @kxshdoll, @evilsanzu, @friendly-neighborhood-turtle, @lili-pond,

@the-unhinged-raccoon @falling4fandoms @cherry-cosmoz @kkgraham @big-denki-energy @aphrodite-xoxo @keiweeny @minminroie @skazewrld

You spent the rest of your Saturday with Shouta - planning out your collaborating class next week and what you want to test the kids on.

It's nice hanging out with Shouta. Even just as friends. It reminded you of high school, how you would hide behind the bleachers during class while the rest of the class ran laps. How Shouta would cover his ears if it was too loud around him, so you bought him ear plugs to help ease the pain he would get in his head.

Your legs laid along his couch, your ankles sitting on top of his lap as he traces shapes on your skin gently. You were both reading, so the room is silent. But you have never felt more comfortable.

"Shouta?" You look up from your book, watching the raven haired man with the tired eyes meet your gaze.

"Yes?"

"This is nice." You smiled, setting your book on your thighs.

"I agree." Shouta looked back at his book as he began to rub your foot gently with his large, callused hand.

"Have you ever wanted to, maybe, go out somewhere?"

He looked at you as if you were stupid. "You know I hate going out."

"You don't like dates?"

"I don't remember the last time I went on one. I usually just-" He stopped speaking to look at you. "I would just bring women home, but I haven't in a couple of years."

"You haven't had sex in years?"

"Shut up." Shouta squeezed your foot with his hand. "It's not as hard as it looks. Plus, I don't like using women for sex. It's much better when there's feeling behind it."

You could feel your cheeks flush red as you think about having sex with Aizawa. His strong arms locked around you, his cock pounding into you like he has all the time in the world to fuck you.

"Is sex meaningful to you? Or would you just fuck anyone?"

"I like it more when there's feelings, definitely."

"Well you fucked that bird, so I'm gonna go with the latter."

"Shouta!" You shoved him gently with your hand. "I did like him."

"Did? Feelings gone already?" His voice was smooth, pushing his fringe behind his ear.

"Once you've fucked me over, my feelings are gone. Usually."

"Usually, hm?" Shouta leaned in towards your face, his body invading your immediate space. "Someone's gotten a second chance?"

"Well he hasn't asked yet. So I guess not." You shrugged and brought your book closer to your face. Shouta pressed his index finger to the top of your book, pushing it down so he can see your face.

"This is me asking for a second chance, princess." Shouta almost whispered.

"You're usually mocking me when you call me princess. Do you really want a second chance?"

"You've always reminded me of a princess." He brought his index finger to the side of your face, caressing the outline of your cheeks and jaw. "Your big eyes, the way your hair is always so shiny." He hand ran through your hair. "Even when we were younger, I wasn't mocking you. I was just saying that so you wouldn't think I liked you."

"Sounds like you really liked me." You leaned into his touch, pressing your forehead onto his.

"Look in my head." Shouta looked at you.

"I don't want to use my quirk on you."

"I want you to look at the memory I'm thinking about. Please."

You sighed, focusing your energy on Shouta. You closed your eyes and moved your hands slowly, like you were reaching for his memory.

Soon enough you were inside his memory. You were both sat on the couch as you watched your surroundings.

"This is that coffee shop we went to when we first started as pro heroes." Your eyes were fixed on the Aizawa in your memory. He looked so much younger - the bags under his eyes not as deep as they are now.

"Look to your right." Shouta said to you, leaning back on the couch as he extends his arm behind you.

There you were.

You were ordering your coffee for you, Shouta, Enji, and Yamada. You looked so... happy.

You turn your attention back to the Aizawa in the memory, who was also staring at you.

You watched as Enji's mouth moved, but you couldn't quite hear him.

"You need to tell her how you feel." You finally heard Enji.

Your eyes went wide.

"She doesn't feel the same way, there's no point." Shouta turned away from you as you turned on your heel with the tray of coffees.

"You're such an idiot." Enji rolled his eyes.

"Our first coffees as pro heroes!" You smiled from ear to ear.

"Hell yeah!!" Yamada grabbed his coffee, pushing his cup in the air to meet yours. "Cheers to us!"

"Shouta, take your coffee and cheers with us. You too, Enji."

Enji had a sympathetic look on his face as he looked at Shouta. Like he knew how deep of feelings Shouta had for you.

Shouta watched every move you made, how your hips swayed as you sipped your coffee, something you often did when you had a sweet treat. How your hair fell beautifully on your shoulders, down your back almost to your ass.

You blinked, moving your hand in between the memory and reality, letting go of Aizawa's mind.

"Shouta. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to embarrass myself. I was sure you didn't like me, like that anyways."

You bring your knees to your chest, using your chin to lean on your kneecaps. "Funny, I thought the same about you up until you put me in a coma."

Aizawa turned his head down, almost like you cut him with a sharp knife.

You stared at him for a moment, hoping he would say something.

Anything.

"Will you go to dinner with me?" He finally spoke.

"You just said-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

You ponder the question for a moment. You've wanted to see Shouta in a romantic setting for a long time. Where you both dress up, you put on your best makeup, and you could end the night in Shouta's arms.

"Tonight."

"It's 5PM."

"So you have 3 hours to get ready." You get up from the couch to slip your shoes on. "Pick me up at 8."

NEXT CHAPTER IS THE DATEEEEE HEHE

[tigertale]

A/N: Fantasy AU ahead, like, those fantastic middle aged themed worlds with magic, bards n' all? Anyway, I'm such a messy writer I'm sorry

A/N2: I wrote this before chapter 7 and finished the smut recently, although the end is messy :(

• F!Reader; Malleus

•〔　！ 〕 Smut; Virgin Malleus/Reader; Creampie; Grammatical errors; Not proofread

•6.8k words

"It's beautiful isn't it?" Lilia's words only made the man by his side groan. They were both beings of the night. Period. No need to explain just how uncomfortable he was. No matter how mesmerizing the colorful flowers aligned by each windowsill looked, nor how the sun brightened the streets and further empathized each of the bystanders' smiles, he couldn't stand them. They were everything that he wasn't, the exact opposite of what he had known and experienced his entire life, of what he needed the most; a new beginning, joyful laughters and an undying happiness paired with the feeling of fullness.

"The longer I stay here, the more repulsive they become." The soldier sighed at his words and disapprovingly shook his head from side to side, although it looked more like he was annoyed by the prince than anything else. But the dragon couldn't see it as he tried to avoid the petals flying around while spitting the one that had already gotten into his mouth. He wasn't one to curse, but the heavy sweet smell of the pollen filled street tickling his nose threatened him to do so.

"Malleus, we came here to observe the tradition of humans. Having a new outlook on life can only benefit you." The fae said as he stopped next to a merchant who handed two ice-cream cones after he had given them 2 silver coins. The dragon was soon to become the next king of Briar Valley and all Faes as whole. But with the secluded life he had had to live through, Lilia could only wonder if so few experiences in life could properly let him have a peaceful reign. "You need to see more whilst you're still young." He then handed one of the ice-cream cones to the prince who reluctantly took it.

"I do not see how prying into the mortals' life and customs will help my impending rule." This once again made his caretaker sigh as he shook his head from side to side. This would prove to be more difficult than what he expected if he didn't soon find anything that could possibly catch the attention of the boy. A surprised huff was taken out of him as he was suddenly stopped by a kid who collided with him.

The man merely smiled as he pushed all of his hair, some locks dyed in a blood red, onto one of his shoulders and knelt down. He reminded him of the young child he had taken under his care not long ago — he had actually taken him when he was a newborn, and he was already around six, which wasn't exactly a "long time ago", and with a deep chuckle, he took the child from under his armpits and set him on his feet before dusting him off. While the kid was still confused, he continued to make sure that he wasn't hurt by the fall, his father like instincts pushing him to do so —although he didn't mind as he still kept a smile up as to not scare the child. "Where were you running at so fast? It's dangerous to run around in a crowd." The kid nodded but was clearly excited and impatient as he was fidgeting more than one his age was supposed to.

"It'll start soon!" He rocked on the back of his feet as he was trying not to peek above the man's shoulders to see if the oh so expected event of the year had started. "The Battle of the Spring Queen!"

Lilia perked up at that. He let the kid go without further questions, only giving a playful "be careful" and his ice cream in exchange of the promise that he shouldn't run in the streets anymore or at least be more attentive, before getting up and dusting his clothes off.

"I thought humans were pacifists as of today. Why would Queens fight?" The fae laughed at that under the annoyed gaze of his younger fellow. Oh, he sure had missed a lot, hidden in this castle of his! Maybe that he should ask Maleficia for permission to take Malleus out more often. He eventually calmed down as he removed the tears threatening to fall from the sudden laughter that took over him.

"Of course it's no battle per say." He hummed as Malleus was patiently waiting for the rest of the answer while passing his tongue over the cool dessert. It wasn't often that he received ice cream, and one from Lilia was cherished even more, so he tried not to eat it in one go out of excitement. "Each year for spring, they hold a dance contest of sorts, where the winner becomes the Spring Queen for a year."

"Just dancing?" Humans were fighting by dancing now? They were more peculiar than he had given them credit for.

"Of course I said dancing, but it's not something that simple." When they arrived at the town center, Lilia easily pushed through the crowd with his small size to reach the front as the prince struggled to follow him. At Lilia's request, he had hidden his horns to avoid a mayhem among these mortals, but right now he wished he hadn't because the annoyed looks he received were slowly boiling his blood with how much they annoyed him. "I've heard that it can take years to perfect it. And— Ah! Just on time!"

The dragon fae eventually arrived beside his caretaker and looked unimpressed at the rows of women standing in the middle of the town center. They had all formed many circles, the smallest inside and the others extending to be bigger the farther it was from the center, around a maypole and all had a ribbon in their hand. The white dresses they all wore nearly made him cringe, it was all too bright and the sun rays bouncing back on them and into his eyes tenfold this sentiment. Even the crown of flower resting on their head and the embroidered fabric attached to it and hiding their face from the onlookers was almost too much. Should he just go back? But then Lilia would be disappointed in him and he feared the distress it would bring him more than anything.

A voice loudly announced from within the public the start of the competition and the musicians started playing a folk tune right after, hurdy-gurdy, tabors and flutes becoming one. Lilia pushed the tip of his elbow against Malleus' arm to catch his attention at the same time. "That's what we came to see." The women all lifted their hands up, wrists decorated with a mix of flowers that the dragon had a hard time trying to recognise, before slowly turning on themselves with the soft and sluggish tempo of the melody. "This is one of the few traditions humans inherited from us."

Slowly picking up speed, they followed suit. They each took a step to the side as they continued to turn on themselves. Each row was rotating to different sides which created an eye-catching show as the fabrics all flew around the more the rhythm grew to be frenetic.

The pace of the song eventually arrived to the point where it was hard catching up to it, and soon enough someone fell. She looked rather frail as her face was finally unveiled from when her flower crown had flown away. Stumbling, falling on one another they all smiled, their no longer hidden bright eyes only making the public even more excited. The orchestra suddenly stopped, and so did the women. But it picked up just as fast and they all spinned to the other side with linked arms. "Oh this is the moment. I forgot to ask, Malleus, do you want to join them?"

He looked at him incredulously as more women fell to the point that the remaining upright had to jump over the bodies to continue. But he didn't get to answer as he was pushed forward, more men following behind him. Lilia was surprised by the sudden rush and merely managed to take Malleus' ice cream as he was soon too far for him to hear him. He didn't expect something like this to happen, hopefully he'll manage his way out of this predicament he had accidentally found his way in. Or he could partake in it which would please him more than the other option.

The dragon looked back to his caretaker, but before he could react, someone had taken him by the crook of his arm and twirled with him closer to the center of the dance which only further widened the distance between them. He couldn't back out now, he was surrounded by the town folks, dizzy and the dance had also become more complex and he knew he would bump into someone if he decided to walk out of the dance.

One moment they were linked to one another, the next his partner had left him as a new one jumped into his arm now hopping and spinning with him. And just as fast, she left him and he was once again handed over to someone else.

He didn't like it, being passed around like, what he could compare as, a mere toy. Swirling on the same spot with little to no rest as he felt the ice cream he had eaten slowly climbing its way up his throat. He couldn't see it from how blurry and loud everything was, but there were only a few people left standing, enough duo that he could count them with only a hand. He was strong on his feet, due to his fae nature, unlike all the others who would fall from the sheer speed their new partners came at them with. He was the center of the attention, everyone watching carefully how this stranger had imposed himself as the one anchor needed for the winner.

He broke out of his haze for a mere second as he had finally locked eyes with Lilia who still had his dessert in hand. But he could only make out a few words from his stretched lips "It feels like we'll have a surprise this year. Aren't you lucky fufufu~" before his new partner brought him back to the current situation at hand. Much to his surprise, unlike all the others that had a deathly and uncaring grip on his shoulder and arm, she turned out to be more conscious about his uneasiness.

It didn't stop her from forcing him into the dance, continuing to twirl with him, but when her veil lifted with the wind sweeping it away from her face, he could make out an apologetic smile. "Sorry for forcing you into this." She said more to herself than for him, knowing that he wouldn't have heard it as her voice was drowned out by the music, but he did, thanks to his keen ears. The music came to a sudden stop right after. And she used this chance to come closer to him, pushing her chest against his as she tiptoed so her lips could reach him right under the shell of his ear. The closeness didn't faze him enough not to notice that there were only two pairs left. His and another couple staring daggers at him. "This one will be the last part, please keep up with me a little longer."

And seemingly entranced by whatever power she had bewitched him with, he listened, immediately following her when the music started again. As if his body had learnt the dance, more than likely against his will, he easily matched her movements. Unlike before when he was just being pushed around, he was now the one gripping her hand hard enough not to hurt her but to make sure she didn't fall or lose balance, and he made sure to turn at the same time with her.

She was concentrated, not noticing the sudden change of demeanor of her partner, as she looked at her feet to make sure that she got it right. If she was to fall now, it would be all over. She had worked hard to come this far and she wouldn't let victory slip through her fingers so easily. And at long last, the same booming voice that announced the beginning of the contest ringed far above the music. This time, marking the end of it.

The two standing slowly came to a stop, regaining both of their senses as they mindlessly looked at their feet. It was… the end. It came faster than what they had expected. Or was it because they had lost themselves in the heat of the competition? When they remembered the situation they were in they looked around for the duo they were competing against. And here they were, bickering on the ground, too caught up in their anger and accusations to get back on their feet.

Malleus turned back to his own partner when he heard her laughing. She took the flower crown and removed it from her head, shaking her head to put her hair back in place, before looking up at him. Oh. She was…

He couldn't even finish his thoughts that someone came and took her hand, throwing it up as they announced her as the new queen. Clapping and shouting became louder the closer the public approached him and the woman was still gripping his hand, but it only brought back the previous headache racking the back of his head.

Thankfully for him, he was whisked away by the very person who put him in this predicament in the first place. He didn't even bother to hide his pout as Lilia wore a bright smile, taking him farther away from the public's eyes. "Did you enjoy it?" And Malleus could barely believe his words. If he had enjoyed it? Did he look like he had enjoyed it at all?

Once they were far enough, he had begrudgingly walked to a driveway where he could hide as he was vexed by Lilia's question. "I want to go back." And Lilia sighed at the tone his prince had taken. He had hoped for him to become a little more aware about his duties as a prince, but it seemed like it didn't work his way this time. Thus, while a hand was pushed against his hips, he snapped his fingers, bringing them both to the inn they were staying at.

"Malleus." The soldier started as he circled the bed to sit on the cushions decorating the windowsill. Although he wanted to sit on it, he ended up slumping onto them with yet another aggravated sigh. "You didn't learn anything from it, did you?"

As an answer, and seemingly vexed, said Malleus crossed his arms, still standing before the door as his own way to protest his displeasure with the entire situation. "I don't believe that there was something to understand from such an unpleasant event." The entire thing was reckless, ungrateful, and overall displeasing to him. The noise, the heat, the light, he would have never imagined someone liking such things if he hadn't witnessed it first hand.

"These people are under the care of faes. All of the previous rulers cared way beyond Briar Valley's borders." He moved his fingers, summoning a kettle brimming with hot water and the teacup by the bedside. With another fickle, the hot water was poured inside the cup where a dry teabag was patiently waiting to be of use again. "And as the heir, it is your duty to understand what will fall under your charges. Their customs are different yet similar to ours, neglecting that can quite easily create a rift that will bring to a new war." He took a sip of his cup once it was ready, a small grimace appearing on his face at the bitter taste. He immediately brought a few more suspicious ingredients that he put into his cup.

"You have much more to learn about this world, and I hope that you will learn something before we leave."

At that, he disappeared, the slowly dying greenish sparks the only proof that he was here just a moment ago. And Malleus was confused to say the least. He understood his words, yet, he found them hard to decipher. He surely had learnt everything at the castle with the most proficient teachers of this age, he couldn't think of anything left to explore. What a mystery, he would have to work on it fast if he wanted to talk to Lilia again. His caretaker had always been one to teach through actions rather than words, and when Malleus was at fault and too stubborn to open himself, he had found out that leaving him to think about what he did wrong would work the best. Although what truly scared Malleus wasn't the scolding but the fact that Lilia just refused to talk to him as he was one of the very rare people he could feel at ease with.

And the only person he could turn to as of now was the mysterious Queen of the Spring.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

She was still by the town center thankfully. Although this time she was draped in a modest but fitting white dress, the only decoration were flowers that seemed to have been haphazardly thrown on her by who he could only suppose were the many men praising her beauty by her sides. Surely when he thought about meeting her again, he expected her to be praised as a Queen, but the crowd of men surrounding her, craving for her attention as marriage proposals were thrown here and there for her to take, was definitely not what he had in mind. And by the look on her face, a tight smile as she uneasily looked around for an escape, she wasn't enjoying the situation as much as him.

But by some miracle, as he was thinking that he should maybe go back to the inn as she was not in the position to help him, she locked eyes with him. Her pupils dilated and stars dancing in her eyes as she recognised him in an instant. She stood up, walking down and forcing her way through the people still waiting to have a good look at her, a few apologies thrown at those who she feared she could have hurt, and excitedly marched towards him.

"I– I've been looking everywhere for you!" She started right off the bat, her cheeks definitely hotter than they should be as she tried not to stare at him too much. Even if it wasn't her fault, he was pretty handsome to look at after all, especially compared to the folks here.

He hummed, not fazed one bit by the shy look she wore. "Is that so?" He merely said, not knowing how to react to the information she gave him. It was unexpected indeed, for her to look for him despite how irrelevant their meeting had been. (But could he really think that when he was the one that came to see her, thinking of her as his only anchor in this unfamiliar place?)

She buried her head in between her shoulders, fingers playing with each other as an attempt to calm the awkwardness she felt from his answer. "Of course, you're the reason I've won after all." And when he repeated her sentence with a curious but surprised tone, she could only try and add more context to what she had said. "You saw the one we were against at the end right? They're two nobles and like, their families have always worked with one another so they could win the title of the Spring Queen each year. And I kind of found it unfair so I tried to go up against them, and like, if it wasn't for you, and you're really strong by the way, I would have never won because most people here are too scared to go against them you know? And I am too, it's even surprising that I'm still standing here right now because I expected them to just come and snatch my head off for my impertinence or whatever excuse they'd created but no! So like…"

If she was hot before, well her embarrassment had now reached a whole other level where she had became a furnace. Of all times she could have let her stupid habit of ranting take over, it had to be with the pretty man whom she had danced with. "I'm uuh… I'm sorry for rambling…" She had always been scolded by her family for it, even the kids that would hang around her had innocently commented negatively about it. And she was trying really hard to get rid of this habit, she could even swear on her pride if needed!

"It's okay, although I don't think that talking about such things out in the open is good for you." Ah he was right! What if those nobles were actually looking to take their revenge on her? But there was no place where she would be free of danger. These guys were everywhere and—

"Then you wouldn't mind coming to my house, right?" A humm left his mouth as an approval, more fascinated by the fact that she was continuously embarrassing herself yet was self-conscious about her own attitude.

She moved to the side, a meek "this way" leaving her lips as she led the way to her small abode. And her house, farther away from the town where everyone had gathered, was… Would comparing it to a pet home be offensive? Because compared to the castle back home, this was akin to comparing an ant to a dog. And when she opened the door, he was somehow even more surprised. The house seemed to have only two rooms. The kitchen, dining room and bedroom all welcomed him at once which made him assume that the door at the back led to what must be the smallest bathroom he could ever imagine.

Still, what truly was unexpected was how cozy it seemed. Unlike the walls made out of cobblestones back in the Fort he lived at, which only made the atmosphere colder than it was already, the various plants and colors around was a sheer contrast to what he was used to. And it bothered him.

As he sat down on the drawn out and only chair in the house, he mused at the different shades coloring the walls. "What are those?" She came next to him as he pointed at the paintings above her bed. She smiled softly at the question.

"Before I left, my family gifted me those." The colors were clashing and unsightly. And despite the fact that it was made by someone close to her, he couldn't find it in himself to somehow change his views. They were still childlike and clumsy at best. So he merely hummed, not caring about voicing his… not distaste, but he definitely didn't have the best opinion on those. "Anyways, do you want some tea?"

She moved to the counter by the sink, pulling out a small wooden box from the mess decorating what would be considered the kitchen. "Actually I would much rather go for coffee." She stopped dead in her tracks. Coffee? People like her couldn't afford such things. She truly wondered who that man was.

Still, she slowly turned to him, an apologetic look on her face as an awkward smile hung on her lips. "I'm sorry I don't have coffee." She watched as he pondered a bit, fingers resting against his chin with closed eyes, before he looked back at her and told her tea was fine. She let out a quiet relieved sigh as she went back to the herbs sitting in the box before her, taking the most expensive flavour to give him before moving to heat some water on the stove.

His eyes were fixated on the intricate design decorating her back, the shape of a flower drawn with all the threads interwoven through one another and letting him see a star that seemed to be a birthmark in the middle of her spine. And his gaze slowly moved lower and lower, the need to be satiated growing the more he looked at the small parcel of skin showing between the bottom of her rather short dress and her white thigh high stockings. Why did he suddenly feel his body yearning for her? He didn't know and didn't want to. He was tempted, entranced, to move closer and pass a hand under the skirt of her dress. He wasn't used to seeing such loose and short clothing, having been mostly in company of nobles, they were posh and well-dressed with layer and layers of fabric hiding their skin. Even the soldier or the few villagers he had seen across Briar Valley were covered from head to toe with little to no skin showing. Maybe that was why he was hypnotized by her, wondering for the very first time what was hiding under someone's clothes as his draconic instincts were teasing him into taking actions.

Malleus somehow managed to keep calm as she approached after a while, a cup of tea and some low-cost biscuits to eat with the soft drink. "Here, I don't know what you like so I made some Earl Grey tea." He smiled kindly, or at least tried to as only a small almost unseen smile appeared, before switching his attention back to the drink sitting before him to take his mind off the impulsions of his dragon side. Partaking into the carnal desire and losing the purity that was only meant to be given to his future wife? He knew better than that. And while he was debating with himself, she quickly ran to the counter in the kitchen and back to him. "Ah wait!" She bent forward, her short dress hiking up and flashing him a good amount of the small panties she wore, a cube of sugar hanging in between her fingers as she plopped it in the drink so soften it up.

Fuck, he actually didn't know better than that, because right before he could properly think, his hand had moved to cup one of her buttcheeks. She froze, and so did he, as an awkward silence stretched between them, one that seemingly wasn't registered by him as his fingers flexed around her flesh, earning a small and surprised squeak out of her. She turned back to look at him, the top of her body allowing her to turn enough for him to see her flushed cheeks as she peeked over her shoulder. "I-Is there a problem?" And she cringed at the question she asked. But he didn't care, nor did he answer back as he got up, towering her while his hands slid along her body, assessing each curve and bumps under his long fingers, before stopping under her breast.

She was pinned on the table, unable to get back up as the man was pressing his chest to her back, his hot breath tickling her neck as she felt the tip of his fingers tentatively pressing the fat of her chest. She didn't know how to react, should she push him back? She should, as she had yet to marry and had to keep herself away from any sexual activities that could "taint" her according to the religious man who had blessed her and the many other women of the village. She hadn't respected that rule as she had… already explored her own body a few times already. But partaking into something greater than merely playing with herself? While the fear of being accused of hysteria taunted her, she was still heavily tempted by this stranger's, more than vulgar, invitation.

And against her better judgment, she softly placed her hand atop his, slowly guiding it as her breath hitched when she felt his cold skin touching hers above the low-cut of her dress to the top of her larynx. His eyes dilated, pressing his hand around her throat at the same time, trying to assess all the small reactions she would have which further drove this unknown feeling devouring him to a new point. He wasn't one to fight back his urge, far from it, he was more often than not indulging it which would always make Lilia shake his head out of disappointment. So without much thinking, he wrapped an arm around her waist, the other hand moving her head to the side for him to graze her skin with his pointy teeth, as he quickly brought her to the bed by the corner of the room. He fell on it ungraciously, her body now trapped in-between the bed and the erection he was rutting against her backside in near oblivion, each of his grunts feeling like honey soothing her mind.

His fingers started exploring her, tormenting and harassing every bit of skin showing, even tearing new holes in the pristine white dress she wore to access more of her. She felt herself drifting away when two of his sharp nails eventually found themselves back to one of her breasts, pinching it as he continued to press the hard-on still confined in his pants along her clothed slit. And as if to make things worse, he had finally started to nibble on the junction between her neck and shoulder, the lewd sound of his lips and tongue playing with her skin driving her further down this hole he had opened. What if she was fucked silly after all? She wouldn't mind if it was this handsome stranger whose lust was oozing and overwhelming her senses. But it seemed that after a short while he grew bored, instead moving away from her, just enough for him to turn her around so she could face him, settling by leaning above her as his hands rested above her ass.

She was now laying on her back, his body still towering her as he decided to press a delicate kiss on her lips, quite unexpected especially when one would consider how rough and impatient he had been until now, as if he had finally taken over the instincts that were pleading for him to drill into her hole and make her his for the night. And she reciprocated, moving her hands behind his head to grasp a handful of his hair and bring him closer. She wanted to feel him more closely, to have him imprint his lips on hers so that she could never forget him, who would surely defile her in a few moments. And hopefully, what a childish wish it was, he would understand her feelings and return the affection back. She didn't know who he was, not even his name which she had forgotten to ask, but she knew that this wise man eating her lips would be better than any of the men who were crying out to tie the knot with her. Because unlike them, he had proven how capable he could take care of her, how he was an immovable pillar when needed. And she only needed this. No fancy gifts from someone who she knew would cheat behind her back.

Whoever this man was, she craved him. He could do anything to her, she knew not why and didn't want to, and she would be on cloud nine as long as he would give her the slightest bit of attention.

But he didn't understand those hidden messages she tried to pass over to him through their languid kiss. Because when he felt her gripping the dark locks sitting around the base of his horns, he quickly lost himself back into those dangerous impulses of his. The dragon in him needed to put an heir or two inside her warm and welcoming womb before the feeling disappeared.

He broke the kiss, listening to the delightful panting leaving her mouth as his mouth traveled farther down along her collarbone. At the same time, his hands had moved from the small of her back to her legs parted on each of his sides, passing them under her bunched up dress and stopping once a finger had passed under the band of her underwear. And his hard-on, more prominent than ever, was once again grinding against her clothed slit, snatching loud whines out of her. Her breath momentarily hitched when she felt a hand leave her thigh, only to feel it scrambling with the belt stopping him from clearing his most urgent need. The occasional and unexpected knocking of a finger or two against her clit made her mewl, and urged him to move even more messily as it only annoyed him how much he was struggling with the leather tied around his waist.

At long last, he freed himself from the clothing confining him away from her. He hissed at the cold air that contrasted with the heat of his length which prompted her to look downward. But he immediately pressed his lips against hers, once again, which stopped her from seeing it, tongue entering her mouth and creating a mess of drool pooling on both of their chins, a strong hand moving to the back of her neck as he removed her undergarments. He did ponder a few seconds, should he let the stockings hugging her tights on? But he quickly shook this thought away, a deep groan rumbling all the way down from his throat as he ripped the fragile layer of clothing off her legs, leaving only a few stray of white fabric to cover her skin.

Her breath hitched when she felt him, surprised by the sheer size of his warm hard-on resting right in-between her legs. She was supposed to…? Not that she was a prude or anything, but she truly stopped a second to think if she was really ready to take something like this inside her. It was only normal for him to have a size proportional to his height but it definitely looked bigger than what she had heard from the women gossiping early in the morning at the corner of the marketplace. He didn't wait and immediately went to slowly rub his length along her still clothed cunt, earning small gasps and whines from her as she pitifully tried to hide them behind her hand. But he didn't care about them, not when he could feel the warmth she was producing, so heavy and impossibly addicting, which shrouded his mind more than it actually was.

He went back to what he was doing a moment ago, this time passing a finger on the underside of her panties as he pulled it to the side to allow the tip of his cock to press against between her walls, grinding and spreading out her cum along his length. Right when he stopped at her entrance, ready to plunge in, she weakly grasped each side of his face with moist hands which caught his attention. Breath heavy, eyes teary, and cheeks burning, she still took the time to ask one simple question that she had been dying to ask since she met him… "Y-Your name… What's your name?"

"Malleus."

And he slid inside her before she could say anything, pace hard and fast from the get go as he couldn't get a grasp of the insatiable need to fuck her. A loud gasp resonated in the room at the first thrust before a string of whines followed, she could hardly keep up with him, hanging on for dear life by wrapping her arms around his shoulders as her fingers drew deep lacerations on his back. She didn't know what motivated him to be so harsh against her poor body, handling it so carelessly that she feared that she'd break, and they were only beginning.

But these actions didn't spurt out of nowhere. He had been hungry, unknowingly keeping it in the needs to mate as he had never been confronted to it directly, his caretaker having deemed that he had no need to indulge them so young —the Draconia family surprisingly didn't indulge much into sexual activities unless when they were with their significant other, which lead them to believe he didn't have to learn about his impulses. Yet this woman he had found himself dancing with, acting so gently with him, unlike those who would do so out of fear or excessive admiration, had managed to grab his attention. And the dress they had given her to go with her new title as the Spring Queen, how small it was, hugging her body in a way that made him imagine just how she would look without it, how could it not fill him with inappropriate thoughts? How could it not tease the dragon inside him?

His fangs, elongated the more the seconds passed, the more his cock thrusted back inside her as he felt her walls closing around him, the more he heard her small pleas, pressed against the skin of her neck tentatively as his mind was clear enough that he knew that he at least shouldn't mark her. It didn't stop him from teasing her, loving the way she would tense up whenever she felt his teeth pressing a little too hard on her skin.

With each thrusts, she felt herself breaking, her body reacting not only to the length racking her insides up, she could feel the telltale signs how her orgasm building up although she knew that it had yet to properly overcome her mind, but also the strangely long teeth against her neck and the sharp end of his nails playing with the tips of her breasts, the pain only further inviting her down the sin she was partaking in. Her voice rung inside the small house through the form of short and high pitched whines that aroused him the more he heard them.

With one unexpected motion, he turned her body over pressing her upper body down with one hand, fingers tightly clasped around her neck and playing with her breath. Her breath staggered, definitely taken aback by the sudden change of position, and she almost gagged when he went back inside her, fucking seemingly harder than before. Her senses tingled, blurring out any clear perception of what was happening and emphasizing the heat pooling between her leg with each of his thrusts.

She was on cloud nine, feeling her legs trembling as she neared her end, and his pace stuttered when he felt her walls clenching around his cock almost viciously, prompting him closer to his own release despite the frustration within his body having yet to disappear. He went to a sudden stop, her confusion only lasting a mere second as his cum filled her up right after with his groans resonating around her. She whined back, his lips instinctively pressing against her neck to sooth her, having a hard time keeping up with the amount of cum overflowing inside her and dripping out on her thighs in the appearances of pearly white drops.

Eventually, she huffed tiredly, her mind finally starting to clear, and soon she would realise that he had came inside her. Possibly impregnating her with the sheer amount he had pounded inside her. But before she could think about it, he carefully took her hips with his hands, moving her to a new angle as he draw his cock back, leaving the rest of his semence to finally flow out. He pressed the tip of his dick between her folds once again, this time a small smirk on his face as he looked at her fucked out face.

"Darling. I'm not finished."

Her eyes widened, but she couldn't say anything that he was already back inside her. She didn't know how someone could have such stamina, and she wondered for a moment if he was human —which he wasn't but any hints he had given that he was fae had been drowned out by her pleasure. Yet, her mind quickly felt like mud, preparing herself for a long night.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

Lilia stared incredulously at the way Malleus was fiddling with his breakfast the next morning, his mood visibly brighter than before. It was… troubling to say the least. The boy was easy to read, hiding his emotions has seemingly always been a problem for him who was easily swayed, and after he had so coldly scolded him, he didn't expect to see him in a good mood. So when the boy turned towards him with a contemplative look; "Those children of man sure hold many qualities." he was surprised to say the least.

What happened for him to change his mind so fast? He could only wonder.

[acourtofmusings]

Penumbra - Series Introduction

pə-ˈnəm-brē : a space of partial illumination between the perfect shadow on all sides and the full light; a grey area

Pairing: Azriel x Reader Total Word Count: tbd

Summary: The inner circle has been sorely lacking a well-versed scholar, and luckily for them Y/N happens to bump into Nesta at a local romance book lovers convention. Her arrival comes just in time to flank reports that an ally of the Night Court is plotting something world-shattering. Despite every warning bell going off in her mind, she offers her assistance and finds herself enveloped in a dangerous game. Everything is at stake, and Y/N finds herself with a whole lot to lose when a certain Spymaster steps out of the shadows and into her light.

A/N: My falling-asleep fantasy scenarios have been extra intriguing recently, so naturally I'm turning to the world of fanfiction. For now, enjoy this teaser.

Chapter One (coming soon)

If there had ever been one thing that proved itself a constant in your life it was your need for the concrete. Black or white, those were the options. But ever since you had found yourself intertwined with the rambunctious group sitting with you in the large VIP booth at Ritas, things had steadily been muddling up into a daunting shade of grey. You smile at the sound of Cassian's boisterous laughter and take another sip from the drink you have been nursing for the better part of an hour. Nesta's calculated gaze lands on you from her place next to her mate.

"Y/N," she purrs, "You feeling okay?"

You nod and set your drink back down on the tabletop, tracing the rim with your finger. Your gaze begins a slow sweep across the other members of the inner circle, all sucked into their own individual conversations.

"I'm fine, Nesta. Just...taking it all in."

She lets a corner of her mouth quirk up, her subtle version of a well-meaning smile. "You'll get used to the noise eventually. They can get a bit caught up in themselves, but they mean well. Give it time."

Your gaze eventually settles onto the brooding spymaster who is currently nursing a double scotch on the rocks with the same level of disinterest as you. Shadows curl lazily over his shoulders, framed by powerful wings that are tucked tight against his back. He's leaning back into the cushion of the booth seat, listening to Mor's umpteenth dramatic tale of the evening. The movement of his shadows camouflages the swirls of black ink peeking from underneath his button down, and you take a moment to try and decipher what parts of the mesmerizing display are alive and which are tattooed. You fail miserably, reminding you again just how much you can't stand the nuance that surrounds this group of powerful fae. You force your eyes back over to your new friend, who now holds a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

"Perhaps you should put down all of those ancient texts and become a spy instead."

You furrow your brow at her suggestion.

"Why would I do something like that?"

She chuckles to herself and pulls her own glass to her lips, finishing the remainder of the brightly colored drink. "You certainly enjoy starring just as much as he does."

You feel heat creep across your neck as you realize you were caught, and hope the swig of your drink that you take is enough for her to think it's a flush from the alcohol. You twist your face at the taste and shiver slightly as the burn runs down your throat.

"Thats what you get for ordering the well liquor," Nesta teases, "Rhys would happily add you to his tab if you stopped being so fucking stubborn. And don't think that amusing display gets you off the hook with me."

Cassian's wings perk up, and the nosy general turns to the two of you. "What display? What did I miss?" He leans down and speaks not-so-lowly into his mate's ear. "Is she finally relaxing? The both of you are way too boring for my taste right now." You feel heat burning up the sides of your neck and flooding onto your cheeks. Maybe your nervousness was coming off a bit standoffish, but you hated to think it was affecting anyone else's evening.

Cassian flags down a waitress and points between you and Nesta. "Excuse me miss, these two need to catch up. Get me two of something good and strong, please." He looks to you and wiggles his eyebrows "Add it to the High Lord's tab."

You begin to protest, looking apologetically to the waitress. "Oh, no thats okay, you really don't have to--"

"--add it..." Cassian insists, "to the High Lord's tab." The waitress smiles and nods, walking away to input the order. Cassian winks at you, smiling warmly. "You're sitting with the big boys now, sweets, no need to shy away from it. Rhys has money coming out of his ass, might as well put it to good use."

Rhys hears his name coming from his intoxicated brother and also turns his attention to you, violet eyes dancing with the same wicked amusement that often adorns Nesta's gaze.

"Ease off Cas," he chides, "I'm not that rich." The High Lord of the Night Court smirks. "Relax, Y/N, I'm not worried about what you spend on my account tonight. Or any night, for that matter. You're doing us all a massive favor, it's the least I can do."

You breath a sigh of relief and smile gently at him, and he returns it before looking back over to Feyre and Amren. Perhaps things were grey now, but maybe with enough time they could sort themselves out. Maybe you could actually find yourself settling into the rhythm of this group. As you feel yourself ease up, the waitress comes back with two bubbling cocktails.

A pair of hazel eyes train intently on you from the opposite end of the booth, marking your conversation and body language with acute awareness. Your timing was too coincidental. He had an odd feeling about you, one that his shadows seemed to enjoy egging on with their consistent pleas.

Need to know more. Let us learn more.

Azriel took a sip of his scotch, gaze still locked onto your form and only half listening to the tipsy giggling of his friends around him.

[recuira]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one chapter two chapter three

chapter four | suede. stalking. silly.

his pov;

"Your wanted poster."

Those three words settled in my mind as I stared at the distraught girl in front of me, watching as she fumbled with her hands, a nervous exterior brushing over her. She seemed to be so horrified with the fact that I was once a pirate sought after by thousands- wanted dead or alive, though much preferred dead. Many still wanted me dead but due to my brilliant idea of hiding out here, the chance of anyone getting my bounty was thin. I, however, didn't see it being as much of a big deal as she deemed it so. The real issue I found was tucked away in one of the books within the nightstand which I was so fucking thankful she didn't find. I'd rather her not have been looking around but if she were to find one of the two? I was glad she found the poster.

I tossed another slice of apple into my mouth then set the knife down on the cutting board. I approached Y/N but instantly halted when I noticed how nervous and uneasy she was. "What's wrong?"

"H-How many people did you kill?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Does that really matter?" I asked, waving my hands up in the air to hopefully exaggerate my point. "It was almost a year ago."

"That doesn't change the fact that it happened!"

"I know, I know." Despite her discomfort, I took a seat next to her anyway. She tightened her arms around herself, almost to make sure there was as much distance between us without her actually moving. Clenching my jaw, I patted my hands upon my thighs. "I know it's a terrible thing, and there's nothing I can do to change that. It's in the past and if I could go back and alter things, I would. Being a pirate was all I knew. My old friend was one, too. Then we separated onto different things and-"

"Did he kill people?"

"Lots of pirates kill people. It's part of the hype, ya know? It's very unlikely to raid another ship without there being any casualties. But I stopped because I got tired of it. I wanted something more."

"It's a pretty big bounty. I mean- come on, fifteen million berries?"

"Don't think about turning me in now," I chuckled, wanting to add a bit of lightheartedness to this unfortunate predicament.

"I'm not like that. I know I'm in need of money but-"

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N, come on. Give me some slack."

"Well, why exactly did you stop? Did you lose the thrill of stealing from others? O-Or did you get bored of killing innocent people?"

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "We've all done some shit we're ashamed of. We're humans. I did a lot of fucked up shit," I said as I pointed at myself. "But I changed that. I moved and let all that go. I left my crew, made someone else the captain, and abandoned ship. I left all of that shit behind and came here."

"But why?"

"If I say this, I'll probably make things worse but I don't want to lie anymore," I said as I laid back, folding my hands over my chest. I stared up at the ceiling. "You've obviously heard of the One Piece, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, I was one of those pirates absolutely obsessed with finding it. Fuck, I even dreamt about it. It was the only thing I truly desired in life. It was the only thing I thought about. Not riches, women, alcohol- just the One Piece. I was making somewhat decent progress but then I heard that a group of Straw Hats-" I grimaced at the thought. "-made off with the map which they stole from one of the Marine bases. I happened to track them down and I managed to steal the map from some kid named Monkey D. Luffy. But all good things must come to an end and I lost it. I was back to square one. And then I discovered his bounty was thirty million berries." I frowned then sat up, turning to face Y/N. "Can you believe that? Some newby pirate-wannabe received a bounty double my own! Seeing that brought me back to reality. So I dropped everything then came here."

"All because of him?"

I nodded my head. Just the thought of that kid irked me. There was no one, other than Shanks, who I despised more than my own self.

"So, yeah, I know what I did was fucked up. But there's a reason I'm here now. There's a reason I've given you so much. It's because I want to be a better person, maybe redeem myself for what I've done. And I can do that by helping you, by making your life a little less miserable."

"Do you pity me?" The girl asked, finally meeting my gaze.

"What?" I laughed, almost obnoxiously. "Of course not. If anything, I envy you."

"Me?" Y/N pointed at herself. "You envy me?"

"You have no bad conscience. You've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to make up for. You have a clean slate."

She shrugged, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "Thank you."

"So, uh, do you hate me now?" I asked, forcing a frown to mimic a pouting child. She giggled at this and shook her head. I sighed in relief, wiping 'sweat' from my forehead. "Thank god. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you hated me."

"I knew you were a pirate but it's still shocking to learn about your past. It'll take me a bit to get used to it but I don't hate you."

"So, we're good?" I extended my hand.

"We're good." She shook it.

I felt as if a huge relief was lifted off my shoulders. And as long as she stayed out of the nightstand, there would be no more issues. But if I hid the book, then I would be even more safe. I pondered the possibilities before I watched as she rose from the confines of the bed and approached the counter. My eyes trailed down. The backs of her thighs were exposed and the shorts clung to her ass so divinely. I bit my lip and crossed my leg over my lap.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," She mumbled as she started to chew on an apple, then began to cut into an orange. "I do have a question for you, though."

"Go ahead, shoot." As soon as she turned around, my eyes met hers and I smiled.

"Are devil fruits real? Or is that just an old tale? I've never seen one up close and I heard they cost a fortune, even for just one alone."

"They're real," I said with a small laugh. "I would know, I've eaten one."

Y/N nearly jumped before she darted over toward me, her hands grabbing at my shoulders. She still had a slice of half-chewed apple in her mouth which made her struggle to properly speak. "WHAT? You- NO! You didn't?!" She let go of my arms and instead planted her hands on my chest, shoving me back. I collapsed back against the bed, laughing. "You ate one?!"

"Years ago, when I was fifteen."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not. It was a mistake actually."

"What happened?"

I chuckled and pushed myself back up. "Give me an orange and I'll tell you."

If my reflexes weren't so quick, the fruit would've hit me in the face with how quick she threw it. But I caught it and began to pick apart the peel. "Easy, next time," I smirked and took a bite from it. "Well, when I was younger and was a pirate-in-training, the crew I was in raided this ginormous ship and hit the motherload. Not only gold and jewels and anything you could think of, but there was also a devil fruit. I found out how much they were worth and tried to steal it but I was caught in a predicament and I tried to hide it in my mouth."

"And?"

"I swallowed it whole."

She gasped, "And you're alive?"

"It doesn't kill you. It just takes your ability to swim when you're in the ocean, in salt water. It's like the sea turned its back on you."

"Did you get a power from it?"

I shrugged and winked at her, taking another bite. I licked the juices from my hand. "Guess."

"You can fly?"

"Ha! Nope."

"Read minds?"

"It's body-altering."

"Wait," The lovely maiden smirked, taking a seat on the bed. "Did it give you that red nose?" She snickered.

"Guess again," I said flatly, my expression turning cold as I stared at her. She gulped, clenching her jaw. I laughed and looked down at my lap, now using one hand to hold the orange. I continued to chew on it. But while she was distracted with her numerous attempts to guess what kind of body-altering power I had, I detached my left hand at the wrist. It floated behind the both of us and tapped on her right shoulder. Y/N jumped up, her head shooting to look at her side. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed together before she spotted my floating hand waving at her. She gasped and slapped it away. I broke out into a fit of laughter, my hand reconnecting to my wrist. "Impressive, huh?"

"You- what?" She was still flabbergasted.

"I ate the chop-chop fruit. It allows me to pretty much chop any part of my body. Like I can-" To avoid grossing her out, I chopped my left leg from my thigh instead of my head from my neck. She watched in amazement. I smiled at this. "I can disconnect anything from my body from my toes to my ears to my-"

"Even... ya know?"

I winked. "Oh, yeah. That, too."

"That's so cool. How come you haven't done it before around me?"

"I don't know. I just never found a reason to." Shrugging my shoulders, I allowed my leg to snap back. I continued to chew on the orange before finishing it and tossing the peel into a small bin to the left of the bedside table. Y/N finished hers as well. She wiped her hands down on her shirt.

"So, uh," I chewed on my bottom lip. "Do you think you and your mother will be okay?"

"Yeah. We fight all the time. Her drinking doesn't help."

I cringed. "Really?"

"Yeah, she's one of the reasons I hate it so much."

I pursed my lips and nodded my head. I knew I needed to cut back on it but it was something I've done for well over more than half my life. Though, I was destined to do it. Not only for myself, but for her, too. I'd do anything for Y/N. "So," I began, "what do you want to do today?"

"I need to go make up with my mother. That's a big to-do. I can't stand her ever being upset with me." The girl said as she stood up, slipping her shoes back onto her feet. "We can have dinner tonight if you want. Maybe you could meet her."

"Meet your mom?"

"Yeah, why not? She was wondering where all that money came from. She thought I stole it."

"Hell, I don't know. I'm not good with meeting new people."

"Will you, at least, consider it?"

"Sure," I smirked.

"Thank you." Y/N reached for the doorknob, giving it a strong and firm tug before it yanked open. A gush of cold wind washed over her, almost knocking her back. I tossed her my coat to which she whispered another 'thank you' then slipped it on. "I'll see you, Buggy."

"Bye," I murmured with a smile.

As soon as the door shut, I jumped down from the bed and pulled the drawer out from the nightstand, dropping it on the stone floor. I sorted through the numerous books and grabbed the novel I was so fucking thankful she didn't look through. As I opened the cover, the hollowed book had contents that almost spilled out. Papers among papers, among sketches fell out, wafting along the floor. Several notes about Y/N puddled on the floor. One, which was my favorite, was a letter I wrote to her- well, I refused to send it. If I sent it, any last fiber of my confidence would be crushed like a scrambled egg. My fingers lined the rigid edges as I unfolded it.

Messy paragraphs lined both the front and back of the page.

I smiled. How long ago did I write this? I haven't looked at it in so long. I usually added a sentence to it each time I saw Y/N, which is why it was so long. But I stopped pouring my thoughts and desires into it when I actually had the pleasure of speaking to her.

If she saw this, I would kill myself.

I'd purposely jump into the ocean with two anchors attached to my feet.

I looked over the first paragraph,

'I've never wanted something so badly in my life. To say I yearned for her would be a complete understatement. I longed for her, I yearned, I desired- In simple terms, I wanted her. I mean, how could I not? She was an angel. She was a siren. I would purposely listen to her enchanting song, allowing my boat to crash, just if it meant I could be graced by her presence, by her beauty. I was obsessed with her. If she found out my thoughts, my desires, she would never let herself be seen with me. I wouldn't blame her, though. I was obsessive. It was unhealthy, I knew that. But I didn't care. I wouldn't say I loved her because I didn't know what that felt like. I've never experienced it. But perhaps I did love her. I didn't know, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that she was the only treasure I wanted. Not the One Piece, no. Not even that could match up to her alluring person. If I had to travel every sea in order to find her, battle every sea snake in order to touch her, I would. I would in a heartbeat.'

I grimaced, cringing at what I was reading. Thank god, she didn't see this. I didn't even want to see this.

I tucked the papers back into the hollowed-out book, closing it. I slipped the other novels into the drawer then slid it into the nightstand. With the book of secrets, I needed to hide it somewhere she could never find it- where even I struggled to find it. I didn't want to throw it out for I would be completely discarding all of those moments we had together, although she couldn't reconcile them with me because at that time, I was nonexistent to her.

Maybe I could follow my own idea and form my own message in a bottle. I never mentioned her name, nor my own. To an outsider's perspective, it was anonymous.

I shook my head and slipped the book back into the bedside table. She wouldn't be back anytime soon so I had enough time to properly execute a fool-proof plan.

But right now?

I needed to go get another coat.

-=-

her pov;

My mother and I resolved things, just like always. And when she caught wind of a pirate suddenly becoming very fond of me, she begged me to invite him over for dinner. I didn’t think that was the best of ideas. Going out to dinner? Sure! But to have him over? At our house? I cringed at the idea.

She fell ill months ago. Nothing too major, but ever since she’s gotten better, she despises leaving the house and even made me bring her bed downstairs so she could sleep next to the kitchen just in case she had a hankering for something to eat. It was ridiculous, I knew that. But I couldn’t just tell her no. She was my own mother. While I was old enough, I definitely wasn't going to willingly disobey her.

She persisted that I go and grab Buggy so we could have him over for dinner, while I insisted we all go out to eat. She hated the idea and told me that it was her house, her rules.

I grimaced at the thought.

Now, I was just outside Buggy's home, knocking on the stone door. I hoped he was home, though there was no possibility of me being able to ask him prior to my arrival. I knew he was busy. He was a very busy man. I was surprised he made time for me.

With another knock, another silence fell. I groaned and backed up.

My eyes trailing down, I stared at the doorknob and chewed on my bottom lip. He wouldn't care if I waited inside, right? We trusted each other. He knew where I lived and I knew where he lived. As far as I knew, he never crossed any of my boundaries and I definitely didn't cross any of his- well, except for maybe 'snooping' through his nightstand.

Without thinking too much more about it, I grabbed the rusted doorknob, gave it a firm twist, then shoved it open. I almost fell through the doorway.

I caught my balance and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Without the lantern being lit, it was rather dark, but the bright blue sky helped to illuminate the small room. He must've not been home since I left.

I looked around, admiring everything.

As I took a seat on the edge of the bed, I noticed a piece of paper laying on the floor. It wasn't there before.

I raised an eyebrow and reached to grab it but before I could, the door flung open, a certain blue-haired pirate standing in the entrance. When he noticed me, he smirked. I gulped.

"So, we're breaking and entering, are we?" The man grinned as he took a few paces forward.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, scratching the back of my neck. "I came over to ask you about dinner but you weren't here so I figured I would wait."

"No worries, I'm only teasing."

"So?" I folded my arms, leaning forwards.

"So what?" Buggy questioned as he slipped his coat off. Since when did he get a new coat? And why? I was only borrowing the one he lent me. I didn't plan on keeping it. But I guess now it was okay if I did.

"Dinner? Are you available?"

"Hmm, it depends. What time?"

"I don't know, sometime tonight? Only for two hours or so. My mother wanted to meet you. I told her about you."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you've been a friend of mine for a few weeks now and you've been fortunate enough to treat me and help me out," I said with a smile. "She thought you were my boyfriend." I chuckled.

"Heh, that's rich," Buggy said as he turned around to close the door.

"So? Can you?"

"I guess so. Just don't leave me alone with her. I really don't want to be bombarded with questions." The man said as he folded the jacket over his arm then slung it on the countertop. "Did you tell her about my nose?"

I laughed, confused. "No? Why would I?"

"It's my defining feature. It's hard not to notice it when you see me."

"I didn't tell her. I didn't think it was important. I even forget it's there."

The clown burst out in laughter, his eyes closing as he clutched his stomach and nearly fell back with his fit of giggles. I pursed my lips. "What's so funny?" I asked as I crossed my arms.

"It's cute how you're trying to be nice to me. With a nose like mine, how can you forget it's there?" He replied while wiping a tear from his eye.

I felt flustered with the first part of his monologue but I ignored it and shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, I just do. It's not all I see whenever I look at you, ya know. It's not my main focus point when we speak. I look at your eyes, not your nose."

"And yet again, you prove to me that you're different than others."

I smiled. "Hope that's a good thing."

Buggy smirked, winking his left eye. "Of course it is."

The pirated approached me before he knelt down and picked up the piece of paper. He examined it for a moment then laughed to himself. "Grocery list," He explained as he shoved the paper into his pocket.

I paid no attention to the paper. It wasn't any of my business. "Speaking of groceries, want to go help me get food for dinner?"

"What's on the menu?"

"No idea, but let's just grab something so she won't be bitching later."

"Guess I'll be needing this again," The blue-haired man said as he reached to grab his jacket. He slipped his arms through and adjusted the collar. "We match now."

"Mine's more vintage than yours." I winked.

"Oh, so it's yours now?"

"No?" I gulped.

Buggy giggled. "It is. I got my own now so no worries about giving it back. Unless you'd like to trade from time to time."

"No, I like this one."

The man looked at me, an eyebrow cocked upward.

I paid his look no attention and instead looked down at the tattered suede coat I wore. I inhaled softly. It smelled like him.

A soft odor mixed with whiskey, coconut, and cinnamon. And while I hated the stench of alcohol, it worked for him.

I couldn't imagine him without it.

[mania-sama]

A Look into Mental Health: Jujutsu Kaisen Analysis

"Being a child is not a sin." (Nanami Kento, Jujutsu Kaisen)

With the release of Chapter 251, I've seen many horrible takes from dudebros saying that Megumi has "sold" the team. This makes me unreasonably angry because of course it does, so obviously my next plan of action is to take all of my hour-long rants about the mental health of JJK characters and put it here, where said dudebros will never see my (correct) analysis in their entire life. Oh well.

One thing Gege is really, really good at is creating believable, undeniably human, and complex characters. Every character has a different set of motivations, beliefs, ideals, and especially mental states. The constant theme of Jujutsu Kiasen has been "Strength vs Weakness". While the clearest interpretation can be seen through the physical attributes of the characters (Gojo being the strongest sorcerer of his time due to his abilities, and Miwa being one of the weakest, again, due to her abilities), it is also directly applied to the mental strength of characters. No two characters are able to withstand the same trauma and come out the exact same, just as no two real people can process the same trauma. Not only is it a result of nature, as people are genetically different and therefore process information differently, but a product of nurture - in other words, character motivation and environment.

This is where we come to the current state of the manga, Chapter 251. The fated Yuuji vs Megumi debate. I keep seeing people wildly misunderstanding these two, and why it's so important that Megumi isn't standing up to fight, why he isn't able to handle his trauma, when Yuuji can.

Gege writes phenomenal characters. And I want to express just how well done they are, making Jujutsu Kaisen actually kind of deserve its popularity, because some people only care about power scaling. I'm going to touch on Megumi last, because understanding all of the other characters' makes his visible struggle that much more impactful.

1. Geto Suguru

I want to start this mental health analysis with Geto. He is the best representation of depression I've ever seen in Shonen. It doesn't take a hundred chapters to showcase a character's downfall. It doesn't take a hundred significant events to cause a character to break down. Gege shows the best, realistic mental breakdown using only a handful of chapters, and still makes it slow and painful.

Depression can start because of a big event, but it doesn't take more for it to worsen. Untreated, depression runs a vicious course that eats a person through slowly but effectively. It isn't one screaming session, hands clutched over the head and cursing God and the world. It's everything piled onto each other. It's coming to the end of that pile and realizing that nothing will ever change.

This is Geto Suguru's story. He has a big event: the fight with Toji and the failure to save Riko. But his mental health journey was fated to decline, even without the fight and failure. The root issue of his depression came from his ability: Cursed Spirit Manipulation. As long as he kept devouring the embodiment of every vile, human emotion, the more he would lose himself to that vileness. He wasn't changing anything; he couldn't help but continue to swim in negativity because that's all he could do.

Gege wasn't making a commentary on Geto's ability. He was talking about people, as they are, and how staying in a bad situation will not always make you stronger. It can, and most likely will, make you worse. A direct comparison to the sixteen-year-old Geto would be a sixteen-year-old at school, surrounded by people who bully and pick on them with harsh words. The kid will eventually consume all of that bullying, all of that negativity, into their being, because there is simply nowhere else to go. School is mandatory; they can't just leave. They eventually feel isolated, with all that vileness piled on. Even if they have friends, those people could never understand what it's like to put up with humiliation and cruelty day after day.

It's not rational to push away a support system, but who said human beings are always rational? People make mistakes. They don't make the right decisions. Geto didn't. He saw someone offer him a chance at change, a possible light at the top of his pile and twisted it to match his overwhelming negativity. He left and swore to destroy the world that made him the way he is, just as that bullied child may turn away from school and society in whatever form that may take.

I want to touch on the physical aspects of Geto's depression, too. I noted this in a previous analysis I did on him (his character is just that amazing, what can I say?), but Gege knew that the mind can't be affected alone. Geto was drawn with deep eyebags, a nod to an inability to sleep or needing to sleep all the time. Depression makes you tired all the time. Everything becomes difficult. He sits with his back hunched, resting his weight on his knees, like sitting upright is too hard. When someone speaks to him, he blinks and takes a second too long to look over or respond, like speaking takes too much energy. To me, it even looked like he was becoming thinner. It's extremely difficult to maintain a schedule of exercise and mealtimes when your mind is fighting an active war against itself.

Again, a beautiful representation of depression. Geto means a lot to me in this aspect.

2. Gojo Satoru

In comparison to Geto, Gojo's horrible mental health is a lot subtler. Depression isn't the correct term, but you don't have to be depressed to be sad. Sadness is his stagnant state; he has moments of bliss, goals to work towards, a reason to keep going, to continue living, to continue chasing the sun over the horizon, but he does return to the same place he is always at when the lights turn off and he's painfully reminded of this one fact: he is isolated.

All of Gojo's problems start and end with isolation. From the moment he was born, everyone knew he was different. He knew he was different. Through glimpses of his childhood and honestly reading between the lines, it's obvious he never played with kids his age. People don't just develop a superiority complex with their only drive to be better than literally everyone else for no other reason than to get better. It comes from somewhere, and in Gojo's case, it's from his young childhood. It seriously messed him up; even now, he can't shake the lesson that "Strength is the only way to success and happiness".

This is what made Geto so important. Geto was somebody who could share the burden of being the strongest. Geto was someone his age who understood him in a way Shoko could not, though they both were able to see Gojo beyond his capabilities as a Jujutsu sorcerer. Gojo then had somebody to base his moral principles on. Because he couldn't connect with anybody else, he had no basis other than strength. Geto taught him why it was important for the strong to protect the weak.

Then everything went wrong. Gojo became isolated again in his strength and lost the only person who could plausibly stand with him. "Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru, or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?" Gojo was young, then, and fresh-faced into his newfound godhood. He didn't kill Geto in that moment because he wanted to deny the claim that he is nothing without his strength, that he isn't as shallow as he was raised to be.

But he knew better. He grew older, he killed his best friend, and he realized that he was nothing without his strength. He never got over Geto. In order to cope with the guilt of being unable to save him when he left, he adopted a whole kid, thinking that if he wasn't strong enough to save Geto, maybe he could save Megumi. But there it is all over again - he never broke from the cycle of strength defining his worth. Saving Megumi would define his strength, right? It would prove Geto wrong, right? He raised Megumi under the same logic (that the only way to save his sister is to be strong), only ridding the boy of the crushing isolation.

In this way, Gojo isn't mentally weak. He didn't abandon society and everyone who loved him, instead choosing to hone the trauma of his isolated childhood into a weapon and teach the next generation to be better than himself. He isn't depressed, but he isn't happy. You can't be happy if you're alone all of the time. He hoped Megumi could be someone to stand by him, but in the end, he failed to save Megumi. His strength couldn't save him, just as it couldn't save Geto.

He isn't mentally strong. He isn't weak, either. He is horribly, painfully average. He's not weak enough to be saved, but not strong enough to save others. His childhood plagues him, but not to the point where it prevents him from living. He killed Geto but was unable to bury the body. Gojo is everything he never wanted to be.

As it turns out, strength can't buy you happiness. Gojo may have understood that, but he couldn't abandon it, even to the bitter end. Just as a human struggles to shed their conditioning. Not everyone can break the cycle, but we are always trying our best to work with what we've been dealt.

3. Okkotsu Yuuta

I'm putting Yuuta in between Gojo & Geto and Itadori & Megumi because he is, in a way, a bridge between the two. Geto and Gojo have lived their lives; their stories are complete and ended in tragedy. Itadori and Megumi's are not. They are still actively struggling and fighting their physical and mental battles; their stories have yet to be completed.

Yuuta's story isn't technically completed (ignoring everything that happened in the recent chapter with him for the sake of MY mental health), he is still a success story. He is the average protagonist who started from the bottom and ended up at the top. Only he, as Gege has done time and time again, has a slightly stronger focus on mental health than most other Shonen. He is success where Gojo & Geto failed, and the success that Itadori & Megumi are narratively striving for.

At the beginning, Yuuta was depressed and suicidal. He was bullied at school and involuntarily hurting others. Instead of becoming resentful of the world, he pushed all of the vileness inward. His guilt caused him to try to take his life, presumably multiple times, but Rika stopped him before he could succeed. His life was effectively out of his hands; he felt powerless with all of the bodies stacking around him, and he couldn't atone for "his" actions.

His mental health, as it was, was in shambles. Gojo then offered him a way forward. Yuuta's mental health did not improve overnight. It was when he made friends at Jujutsu High, and developed a support system, that he was able to relieve his anxiety and realize that life is not so bad after all. That all of this pain and suffering and loss - it will pass.

The most important thing to acknowledge when it comes to Yuuta is the sheer fact that he was not alone, nor did he allow himself to be alone. Unlike Gojo, who still had Shoko and Nanami after Geto left but refused to connect with them, Yuuta allowed himself to get close to those around him. They didn't know the suffering he'd undergone for so many years. They didn't know what it was like to be him, but that was okay. He knew that they had empathy, that even though they could never experience his life, they could still be there for him now when he falls.

When given the opportunity to surrender, Yuuta stands in the face of one Geto Suguru and swears to protect his friends and fight with Rika. He's so far removed from the boy who tried to kill himself at the beginning of the manga, and that's because he let himself be changed. He did not succumb. He had friends, he knew. People that would miss him if he left, and people whom he would regret leaving.

This stays consistent with his character. He doesn't let himself become isolated in his strength or his experiences. He's much stronger than everyone else in the room, he's a special grade and he knows that, but he still treats everyone like they are equals. Like they are his friends, like they are people who could share this burden of existence with him. This is something that Gojo couldn't accomplish, which lends to the fact that Gojo had a very off-hand teaching method when it came to mentoring Yuuta. Instead of influencing him under this idea of strength conquers all, he let Yuuta develop far away from the ideals of the Japanese Jujutsu Society.

And, in the end, the fact of him being physically strong - a special-grade sorcerer from the get-go - never helped him in his mental health. In fact, it made him miserable until he learned to get a handle on Rika. His winning or losing that fight with Geto wasn't the point of his character, it was reckoning with the fact that he is okay now. That he can embrace the ugly part of him with dignity instead of guilt.

4. Itadori Yuuji

Itadori's entire character is that he has an unbreakable spirit. As the only one who can bear the soul of Sukuna, he started off like Yuuta, only on the opposite end of the mental health spectrum. When we first see him, he's happy, spending his afternoons with the Occult Club and watching movies.

... What happened?

Like Geto, everything piled on very slowly. So slow that I'm not even sure he felt the true effects of everything he experienced up until the fall of Shibuya. It starts with the death of grandfather, whose parting words "Just save as many people as you can" haunt him even now during the final fight with Sukuna. He was never given time to properly grieve his grandfather, just as he never had time to grieve the brother curses, Junpei, Nanami, Nobara, Gojo, Higurama. At the end of it all, when the fighting is over, I have to wonder what will become of the boy that realizes he's lost most of the people he loved.

The one time he did try to process it, when he realized that he couldn't control Sukuna, was when he broke down in Shibuya. Sukuna leveled an entire city. For the boy who never wanted to kill another human being for fear of devaluing life, the weight of his weakness killing thousands was crushing. Then Nanami died. Nobara died (still hanging onto that unknown status but I digress). Both are right in front of him, and powerless to prevent Mahito from disintegrating their bodies. So, obviously, Itadori broke down. The boy with the unshakeable spirit, the only person who could contain the King of Curses, has his psyche completely shattered.

He laid on the ground, and he wouldn't have gotten back up if there wasn't somebody to help him, to be there with him. Todo pulled him back together, stitched back up the broken into somebody who has allies and people to fight for. Itadori has the success that Yuuta had, only Itadori did not come out of it with better mental health.

After the breakdown, his unshakeable spirit was nothing more than the will to keep fighting. He cares little for himself, and he tries to distance himself from people to prevent them from dying from his cursed hands. He is jumping, quickly, down the same rabbit hole that Geto fell down. One big event, and they realize just how tall the pile already is, and that it will never stop growing. Unlike Geto, however, he continues to get overbearing support from those around him. Against his will. He can't push them away, for they refuse to leave his side. Yuuta, Choso, Megumi, even Higurama. They won't let him fall. This makes him better off than someone alone, in a sense. He can withstand his trauma when others may not.

Even so, even so, there is only so much support, the lack of self-isolation, can do when the traumas keep actively repeating. When he says that he will gladly die to defeat Sukuna, it is not said with the same tone that another Shonen protagonist would say it. Take Naruto for example. If he were to go into a battle to protect, say, Sasuke, he would scream, "I'll die to protect him." We understand that his willpower is stronger than his self-preservation, but we don't get the idea that he actively wants to die. He'll die if he has to. Now, Itadori says the same thing, but about saving Megumi. He says, "I'll gladly die." There is something different. His willpower is leaps and bounds stronger than his self-preservation, but that's not only it. There is an undercurrent of severe suicidal ideation prevalent in Itadori's tone. It's not that he will die to win, it's that a part of him wants for this to be his final fight. For it all to be over. To save Megumi, then atone for the sin of being too weak to save Shibuya, or being unable to stop the Culling Games, or letting Megumi get hurt when all he wanted was to keep him safe.

I'd call it more along the lines of passive suicidal ideation. He doesn't plan to kill himself, but what would it mean for him to go into dangerous situations without protection? What would it mean for him to succumb to his wounds after he wakes Megumi's soul and kills Sukuna? To not even try to seek medical attention? He's guilty. He believes everything that happened in Shibuya and after is his fault. When faced with the executioner's sword, he was ready to die for his sins, if not for the goal of ending the Games. There is a fine line between willing to die for those you love versus wanting to die for those you love.

Right now, Itadori is fighting to save one person, like his grandfather said. He is not fighting to survive. And that's what people fail to understand about Itadori when they compare him to the other members of the cast. These power-scaling dudebros don't understand that their favorite OP main character has fallen apart at the seams, that his unshakeable spirit to save people doesn't include himself.

5. Fushiguro Megumi

Here we finally come to the question: Why can Itadori take it when Megumi can't? There is a very similar quote that you probably think of whenever you hear this question asked. It's from The Outsiders: "Dally is tougher than I am. Why can I take it when Dally can't?" The answer to this question that Ponyboy gives is the same we can attribute to Megumi. "And then I knew. Johnny was the only thing Dally loved. And now Johnny was gone."

The entire reason Megumi became a Jujutsu sorcerer was to protect his sister. When he was five years old and probably too young to understand most of the words Gojo said, he accepted the offer of training to become a sorcerer in exchange for Tsumiki's happiness. Every day, he fought to protect her. He only had one goal in entering the Culling Games: to prevent Tsumiki from having to participate.

It's easy to attribute Megumi's constant attempts at summoning Mahoraga to a lack of will to live - suicidal ideation, the same that Itadori now experiences. On one hand, I do understand that he has a fundamental lack of care for his own life, but on the other, I don't think that he intends to throw it all away every single time. He just didn't know any better. Ignorance can lead to death as easily as intentionally seeking it out. That's why he changes his habit after Gojo gives him a lesson in risking death versus dying to win; Megumi still has someone to live for, after all.

Megumi's mental health was already rocky from the start. Not that it was in shambles like Yuuta, but he wasn't fully stable. Like a lot of teenagers, he's moody, somewhat reclusive, and only really likes one or two people maximum. Teenagers aren't known for their sunshine mental health anyway.

Megumi was given time to grieve Itadori after he first died. This trauma of losing him in front of his eyes stuck with him, but he was allowed a grace period of two months to grieve with Nobara. He experienced Shibuya, too, but he still had that one important person to protect. His mental health was alright at this point, all things considered. As long as his sister was alive, he would be fine.

Sukuna knew this. So Sukuna killed Tsumiki using only the Ten Shadows Teqchnique. The one person Megumi spent his whole life dedicated to, was killed by his own cursed technique, his own failure to suppress Sukuna.

In the void of his soul, Megumi was alone. Truly, utterly alone. The only person nearby was Sukuna, the murderer of his sister, the murderer of thousands upon thousands of people. He drowned in the ceremonial bath of crushed curses to hold his soul down in the depths of despair, literally drenched in all of the vileness the world has to offer. Sukuna killed Gojo using Mahoraga's adaption ability, and before that, Megumi was forced to take several of Gojo's mind-altering domain expansions.

Already, he had given up. He gave up when his sister died, but the rest ground a pointed spur into his neck. When Itadori shakes his soul, Megumi is repeating, "That's enough." He was at the end of his rope a long time ago. What more is there to keep living for? He doesn't want to live with the blood of his sister, the blood of the man who practically raised him, and the blood of countless others drenching his hands.

Sukuna killed all of these people, not Megumi. But then, Sukuna killed of those people in Shibuya, not Itadori. Why can Itadori take it? Why can he keep fighting when Megumi lays broken on the ground? Itadori wasn't alone. And Megumi has never been known for his unshakeable spirit. That is the one thing that Itadori can hold over everybody else, the one trait that everyone admires. He was born to shoulder the burden of the world. Megumi wasn't. Megumi wants to die. He is not passively suicidal, for he has no goals left to complete, a plan to die within the body no longer inhabited alone. He is suicidal. He would drive a stake through his heart if it meant relieving his pain. He doesn't want to do it anymore. He's had enough.

And Itadori was in this position once, too? Perhaps not as directly, but he was there. Here is the moment that the protagonist gives the motivating speech to will someone to keep fighting, that life is worth living. I realized today that this is not something Itadori has done yet. He hasn't had a grand speech that's not been about his own willpower. He's never encouraged someone else to keep living in the way that you would expect from the main character. This is his moment, I suppose. He needs to be the person for Megumi that Todo was for him. He has to show Megumi that he isn't alone.

He needs to save Megumi when, all those years ago, Gojo couldn't save Geto.

I don't think some of this fanbase understands how horrible Gege has to be at writing if he just. Let Megumi get up to fight in Chapter 251. All this time, he has shown how Megumi has been defeated. He showed him crumbled on the ground, unmoving. It shouldn't be a surprise that all of the measures Sukuna took to ensnare Megumi's soul worked. Megumi is suicidal after the people he loves have all died because of his technique. God forbid a sixteen-year-old is unable to cope with his trauma alone.

Honorable Mentions:

There are a lot more characters in this story that represent/show mental illness that I didn't go into depth on but are worth mentioning. It was easier to only talk about the major characters since we spend so much time with them and I can fully flesh out everything that should/can be said about them. Anyway, here are a few more that are notably well-written in their mental struggles:

Yoshino Junpei. His story arc follows very similarly to Geto, except he is the bullied student I was making a reference to. Depressed, alone with a mother whose habits he can't stand, he turned to someone he thought could provide him a better life. Interestingly, he is a good representation of the type of children that tend to be groomed. That's surely what happened to him. Mahito used him, then discarded him for his own gains.

Ieiri Shoko. Her main struggle can be seen through her smoking habits. She's been through a lot, lost so many people, and has to keep healing sorcerers only for them to die. Eventually, she was able to come to terms with this. She kicked her smoking habit at the same time she kicked the vicious mental cycle of caring too much about the patient on her table. It's no wonder she picked up a cigarette, for the first time in a while, when Geto led the phantom parade.

Zenin Maki. She works as a very good contrast to Megumi. They both lost their sisters, the people they loved the most, but she turned all of her grief to killing the Zenin clan and gaining Heavenly Restriction. But this, this is because she could do so. There is simply nothing Megumi can do as a soul trapped in his own body. Her grief made her stronger, while for most, it made them weaker.

Inumaki Toge. He isn't seen a lot, but his story is ultimately quite compelling. A boy who hurt many when he was young. He turned his guilt into kindness, a will to protect. He tends a garden to raise plants healthily, for God's sake. He's one of the examples that shows Yuuta that your past actions don't define you, but instead, what you choose to do going forward.

I am not proofreading any of this before I post it. Sorry if it is borderline unreadable with spelling / grammatical errors.

[strayrockette]

My Sunshine Girl: End of the Night

A/N: Good news, this one is shorter than the first part!! The third chapter is in the works, currently editing and adding more! There are a few things I'm really excited to explore between Sunshine and Benny as well as Sunshine's history. Sooooo I hope you enjoy this short chapter ❤️😊 Please comment your thoughts (I really enjoy reading them), and remember to like and reblog!

Inspiration: He's Mine by The Platters Summary: An invitation is extended and you accept Previous Chapter: The Celebration Masterlist

By the time the ride ended, you were breathless and craving more. Benny had led you back to the bar, where everyone else had regrouped. You sat on the back of his bike, your fingers loosely gripping the bottom of his jacket.

Benny helped you get off, his hand holding onto yours. Steadying your swaying body as your feet met solid ground. You breathed a quiet thank you, his strong but gentle grip keeping you upright. 

You glanced up from the ground, ready to say goodbye and be on your merry way, but the words got stuck and you realized; you didn’t want to leave his side. 

Benny held your gaze, his thumb brushing circles over the back of your hand. 

You could hear the others making teasing comments, but all your focus was on him. You tried to capture this moment in your brain, his eyes softened under the street lamp, searching your face for any signs of distress or annoyance but finding nothing but wonder and excitement.

He smirks realizing you were just as much a fan of the ride as he was. This realization pleases him, already envisioning you as a part of his daily life. You’d be a second extension of his tiny world. Another slot that would take up space next to the club and his love of riding. 

He moves to slide off the bike, you shuffle back, your hand still in his. He speaks quietly, a deep baritone in the soft caress of the night wind, “Do yah wanna drink” 

Your eyes flickered over to the bar doors, men falling into line for another round of fun before ending their night. You could see Johnny turn to look at you guys, a smile on his lips, walking backward he calls out, “I told yah girls would be okay, the guys just wanna go out wit yah” 

You found yourself letting out a breathless laugh. Your eyes fell to watch his thumb repeatedly draw circles on your knuckles. Does he realize he’s doing that? You wondered. 

“I-uh-I don’t drink alcohol” You stuttered, “But I wanna dance” 

He hummed, lifting your hand, your eyes following the movement, “Gail would love that” 

He peppered a soft kiss on your knuckles his eyes smiling as he watched you melt under his gaze. “C-cool, ha” 

You slipped your hand away from his lips, from his warmth, and tore your eyes away from his. You almost ran, but forced your legs to follow a decent pace, you’d caught wind of Kathy and practically tackled her to hook arms and slip into the bar. The man she had ridden with doubled over in laughter, “Why you runnin' from your man Sunshine” 

Your face flushed, bowing your head to let your hair fall over your red cheeks, “Don’t” 

Kathy giggled beside you and said naught about your sudden shyness. The two of you set off to dance. You’d asked around looking for a Gail, she had already taken control of the Jukebox and had a group of other ladies warming up to let loose. You and Kathy slipped into the group of ladies, entering a bubble that no man would disturb, including Benny. 

Dancing the night away with Gail, who was happy to have a gal who wouldn’t tap out after the 3rd song. The better half of the night was reserved for the ladies, who got to dance and talk as loudly as the men had before their ride.

 Kathy finally seemed to be having fun, though she still shot some of the men her look of disgust, warning them to stay away from her. On more than, one occasion you pulled her from her seat and her drink for another dance, her laughter and groans drowning over the music. You’d done all you could to avoid looking at Benny. 

Who had no qualms watching you from the bar; a drink in his hand and his body turned away from the counter, his eyes following your body weave in and out from the crowd.

He watched you from the pool table too. Cue stick in hand, his head leaning against it as he followed your body's movements. 

It comforted you, to know that he was watching. No man seemed to want to catch his ire and for whatever reason everyone had already dubbed the two of you as an item. All because you rode on his bike. You wanted to think it was ridiculous. But something told you that one way or another, you’d end up his and he yours. 

You buried the thought behind a smile immersing yourself in getting to know the ladies of the club. 

Benny was the one who brought you home. 

Kathy had gotten a ride from her boyfriend, who wasn’t happy with where he found her. You’d seen the angry look on his face and how Kathy had shrunk into the car seat. You were gonna hop in but a rough hand grabbed yours and led you away.

You slipped onto his bike and wrapped your arms around him, your bag tucked between your arms. You remembered mumbling your address and you expected the ride to be quick because you didn’t live that far but Benny had taken the long way to your home. Your tired eyes took in the passing lights and scenery. Your head lulling to lay on his shoulder. The calm of the night is a lullaby to your soul. 

When he pulled in front of your house you sighed in sadness. It took effort to release your tight hold on his midsection, clumsily fixing your bag back over your shoulder and an unsteady hand gripping his as you slipped off. 

You hummed along to the last song that had played on the Jukebox, its melody echoing in your mind. 

“He’s mine, he’s mine, he’s really mine, I said my baby loves me so” you sang softly as you held onto his hand, your feet fighting to stay upright. Your feet ache from all the dancing, and the adrenaline of riding is wearing off. You resemble it to sea legs getting used to land. 

Benny’s hand moves to grab your elbow, steadying your body. You realize through a tired haze that you like his hands on your body. He makes you feel small and safe with his large hands supporting you. 

You bury this thought behind a mumbled thanks, your head hanging as you peer into your purse to dig out your keys. His hand is still on your body, moving to your lower back, pulling you closer so your knees touch his legs. He’s still on his bike and you wonder if he’s uncomfortable with his upper body turned to you. 

Your eyes were blurry from exhaustion. The quiet cool night was almost enough to have you fall asleep standing. 

When you finally snagged onto the metal of your house keys, you pulled them out and finally looked up at Benny. You were impossibly close, your nose nearly touching his. You couldn’t remember why you were standing or where you were.

He was still seated on his bike, his head and shoulders turned in your direction.

“You really need to stop doing that,” you whisper into the night air. His brows lift and he chuckles, “Stop what?” 

You pointed an accusing finger at his chest, lightly poking him, “You know what.” 

He’s teasing, you know he is by the way his eyes glint playfully. You want to keep the back and forth going but your mind is tired and you want your bed. So instead, you roll your eyes and step away. You say thank you again, avoiding his burning gaze, and walk up the steps to your home. 

You fumble with the keys, sticking the key into the hole, but the lock won’t turn. You’re tired and frustrated and you just want to sleep. It isn’t till you feel him standing behind you, one hand coming around to gently pry the keys from your hand and the other lightly ghosting over your lower back.

With one hand, he’s opened your door for you, pushing the door ajar for you to slip in. 

The air is palpable, an unspoken question hanging densely over your head. You stare into the emptiness of your mother's childhood home. Breathing in the cool air you slowly step through the threshold. 

You turn and lean a hand against the door frame. “I’m not with my girls anymore” 

Voice soft and probing, you aren’t sure what you’re doing. But you know you don’t want to be alone tonight. So you ignore the screaming inside your head. 

“No, you’re not” He replies softly. 

You flip your hair over your shoulder and step away from the door, you tell him you like to cuddle. You don't close the door because you hope he gets the hint.

You turn and start walking up the stairs and you hear the front door close behind you, his footsteps echo up the stairs. You giggle when you feel the tips of his fingers try and grab your waist but you're bounding up the stairs with energy you thought lost. You lead him to your room and you give him eyes filled with anticipation and excitement. He’s slow and teasing as he walks up to you, there are no words just your giggles bouncing around the quiet home that hadn’t been home for a long while. 

He’s caught you in his grasp and you expect things to go a certain way but it's as if he knows what you need because he’s pulled you down to your bed and has you in his arms. Your head resting on his clothed chest. You can still smell cigarette smoke and sweat. It sticks to both of you and you’re too tired to care. 

“Hey Sunshine,” his voice breaks your reverie. His fingers are playing with your hair. 

You hum into his chest, “Yeah?”

“You wanna go to the next meeting with me?”

It's a simple question. But you sense a layer of complexity. You've already invited him into your home, into your bed. Now he's inviting you into his world. Saying yes means so much more than you can imagine. You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest. His head is propped up on your pillow, his unoccupied arm tucked behind his head, his blue eyes on you, patiently waiting for you to give an answer with bated breath.

"I'd love to, handsome," you give him a small smile and then bury your head into his chest, settling as the silence grows. He fixes his arms around you, tugging your body closer, one leg wraps around him, and your arm is thrown over his stomach. He rubs your shoulder and tells you to go to sleep. 

The silence used to be deafening but now basking in his warmth and listening to the steady thump of his heart, you don’t mind the silence all that much. 

His heart sings you to sleep much like your mama who used to tuck you in with stories and songs. Your heart tugs at the memory and you drift off. In the echo of the night, you can almost hear her soft voice singing out to you. You want to reach out and hold on. But all you have is Benny. So, you hold onto him. And pray he doesn’t slip between your fingers like the memories of your ma.

Taglist:

@storiesfromafan, @aleemendoza2425-blog, @preciouslilmonster

[thekrakenlolz]

Start up Fic - Ellie Williams x Reader

part 2

Summary: You switch dorms at your boarding school after you and your girlfriend go through a messy break up and you no longer can handle being roommates with her. Only your new one is a different kind of problem

a/n: I wrote the first chapter only to realize I have no idea what comes next. So here's my plan: if y'all like the set up, you can give me suggestions for what you want to happen next. I basically just laid down the base. So you can read it if you want and see if you have any ideas. But just as a warning, I'm not gonna write smut without a plot, I'm not about that life. I have a vague idea of what I can put next but it's very cliche and overdone sooooo yeah, thanx in advance<3

Also, English is my third language so expect bad grammar

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Your eyes wandered over the walls as you walked along them. The paint was starting to flake off, revealing the concrete underneath. Your school was old. Like old, old. Like Victorian ages old. Something most of your friends scoffed over, but you personally liked. You thought it gave it character. Of course a little bit of a touch up wouldn't hurt, but bathroom doors that are actually still attached to the stall hinges were overrated anyways.

You were following Miss Jenkins, your housemother, hunched over as you were balancing three of your bags on your back. Uncomfortable, yes, but you were trying to minimize the amount of trips you had to make to move all your shit over to your new dorm. Anything to avoid seeing Samira more than absolutely fucking necessary.

"Here we are" Miss Jenkins sighed, stopping in front of one of the gray doors. It took everything in you not to roll your eyes. You were still pissed that you had to put in 4 requests over the duration of 2 months before they finally assigned you a new room, but now she was acting like she was doing you a huge favor. Like taking 15 minutes out of her day was so much to ask for. But you kept it down, thanking her again before opening the door and stepping in.

The lengthy process of actually getting a new room gave you plenty of time to stress over who your new roommate would be. This girl, however, didn't even come to mind. You weren't even sure what her name was, your social circle and her's didn't interact much. E-something? Or was it L?

Mystery girl was sitting at her desk, headphones in, and carefully shading out something in her notebook. You noticed she had tucked her left leg under her, a bad habit you also possessed. She didn't register your presence, her eyes still fixed on the paper. You threw your bags next to your bed, which finally caught her attention. "Oh fuck" she jumped up from the desk and hurried over to your bed, picking up the stuff she dumped on it. "Hello to you too" you mused.

Sweatshirts, textbooks and pencils started flying over onto her bed. "I'm sorry, I thought I had until Sunday to get my shit off your side" She explained, tossing a hairbrush across the small room. You watched it hit the wall and fall down onto her Zelda themed sheets. Cute, you noted. "No worries, take your time, I still have stuff to move over"

So you were back in the hallway, slowly but surely making your way back to your old dorm and with that, to Samira. Now that you were by yourself, you took the time to think about your new roommate. You still didn't know her name but one thing was for certain: she was incredible looking.

Her thick straight auburn hair cut off above the shoulders and her cheeks were densely dotted with freckles. She was very toned, especially in the arms. She was probably in the lacrosse team.

You did notice she was more on the masculine side, so might maybe even be gay. You full stopped, forcing yourself to remember, that's exactly the type of shit that got you in your current situation in the first place. No fucking your roommate, dude, we talked about this.

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You took a moment to collect yourself before entering your old room. You drew a breath in, scanning the ugly grey door that separated you and her. 12B the lettering read, touched up with some sharpie. You reached for the knob.

She was sitting at her desk, scrolling on her phone and demonstratively ignoring your presence. You bit down on the inside of your cheek. This wasn't what you expected. Somehow you preferred another stupid fight over this new silence.

You stacked two backpacks on one arm and three bags on the other. The weight made your walk out rather inelegant. You stopped in the doorway. "Goodbye Sami."

You could practically feel her hesitate.

"Bye."