#might be on the verge of sobbing my heart out

[might-abandon-but-idk-yet]

My period mood swings might be a little crazy rn. Literally broke down crying bc I read his name. Just thought he was cute enough to cry over for no reason lol

[qiwoomi]

officially yours (his)

gojo satoru x fem! reader

fluff, established relationship, marriage, modern au, slightly suggestive in the end

a/n: idk how long it's been, almost about a year but I'm back again. this time school isn't an obstacle anymore :] wrote this while seasons - wave to earth is playing in the background

If years ago you're telling the Gojo Satoru you would marry him, he would tell you it would be a dream out of reach. Because back then, he's not confident in himself to make someone as beautiful- inside and out as you happy. It might be because of his rough past, and he didn't want to risk you going through it as he doesn't want you to get hurt.

You are too delicate, too fragile that he's sure that he doesn't deserve you. Hell, he would even risk letting someone else have you if it meant you don't have to go through a single trouble that he always endures. Though he's used to it by now, but you don't.

So how is it possible that here he is, standing on the shoreline of the vast ocean of your dreams, his shoes a little drenched and stained with sand. But never mind all that. His eyes are on you, teary and red though it won't fall. His lips are trembling, he wants to say something, but he knew that he would be sobbing and he promised himself that he won't ruin the ceremony that unite both of you in sickness and health.

There you are in your white wedding dress, your dream wedding dress, as you held the bouquet of flowers in your hand, keeping up a smile even though you're also on the verge of tears. Your eyes are blurry, but your father guided you to him, letting go of you as you're now standing in front of each other.

You allowed yourself to sniffle. Geto then starts doing the speech and declaration to officiate both of you in your wedding day, Satoru's eyes never fell from yours.

It's time to declare each other's wedding vows, which you anticipate. Satoru fixed his bow tie nervously, as you smiled.

"[Name], my love, my heart, my life, my everything." He starts, and his voice already cracked which earned a few laughs from your families and friends. He was full on sniffling, nose red as the first drop of tears stained his cheek. "First of all, I want to thank you a lot for everything you've done for me. Taking care of me even when I'm whiny and clingy, even though I stained your shirt with my snot as you patted me to sleep. Always being there to comfort me because you know that I'm not fine, even though I insist I am. You always knew before me, and this is one of the reasons why I fall in love with you." He manage to make through the first paragraphs, as onslaught of tears stained his cheeks again.

"Oh my god, I'm crying." He accidentally slipped into the mic, as chuckles are heard again. He's trying to wipe them off with his sleeves now. "Does anyone have a tissue?" He sniffled, as Geto handed him a q-tip. He tried wiping his tears with them, as it didn't do as much. "What does a q-tip gonna do? I need a tissue." He sniffled again, only realising the tissue in his breast pocket when you pointed them out.

"Ah, thank god." He sniffled, as he tried to compose himself while wiping his tears. Now the audiences were laughing, which makes you laugh too even though you're also about to drown in tears. "Okay." He cleared his throat, lifting up the paper in his view which is stained by droplets of tears.

"I'm sure that even if I continue listing them down, words wouldn't be enough to express my love to you- because it runs deep. And it is dangerous, at least this is what I thought when I was so young and naive, still learning what real love means." He sniffled. "But I got addicted to it, you're too addictive that I'm sure the thought of you will never go away. Everyday I wake up, I'm thankful that I even get the chance to be with you. And I try to make it last, even though temporary, these fleeting moments is my motivator."

He inhaled, before reading the next last paragraph. "My love, I want you to know that this has been my dream for the longest time. And to see and experience myself to be officially yours is a dream come true. I'm yours, always yours from the start and eternally. I promise myself from the start, and I want you to know that I'll always be with you no matter in sickness or in health, in the hardest days of your life or the easiest. I love you wholeheartedly in all versions of yourself. My heart, I have devoted myself to you, and should you think that I'm not, I'll always remind you through my actions. I love you, my [Name], my wife now and forever."

Gojo Satoru managed to finish, his tears are now at bay only for it to stream continously again when it's your turn to recite your wedding vows. It is safe to say that Gojo Satoru cried more than you, and he took 1 to 2 business days to process your marriage before finally going back to his 'normal' safe. And you love him all the same.

bonus:

It was late on your wedding night, after making love with him. You laid on his chest, catching your breath as he caressed your hair, his eyes on the ceiling as if lost in thought. It was quiet, but you love it.

"My love?" He starts, his eyes now on you, admiring your features. His hand on your hair is so comforting, that it took you a second to answer him. "Mhm? What is it baby?" You asked, looking up at him with sincereness and love in your eyes.

He pouted, frowning a little. Whatever it is that's weighing on his mind, you want to make it go away. "I'm sorry for ruining our wedding. I just can't hold it- you know. I never thought we would go this far." He mumbled, as you now start cupping his face, making him look into your eyes.

"Hey, it's fine. You know, I love that you're not afraid to show your true self. I love you. You make the wedding more memorable." I reassured him, speaking softly that he might even fall asleep to my voice.

Satoru didn't answer, though it's evident he's happy to know your thoughts now that his frowns and pout go away. "I love you too. You know, we're not even done for the night." He teased, now going back to his 'normal' self.

You slapped his chest playfully, though there's no denying it when your cheeks are flushed.

a/n: this is inspired from one of the videos I came across on ig (iykyk) I wish I copied the link but I lost it ☹️ the video literally screams satoru and you can't fight me.

EDIT: HERE'S THE LINK GUYS!!!

© @qiwoomi

est. 250324

do not copy, translate or repost my work.

[cntloup]

You're both unhinged and self-sabotaging... idiots😒

Everything was going perfectly. Even though for him, managing a relationship was very difficult, also challenging for both of you. Due to his job, his past, also yours... you had your own demons too. But after some time of battling your inner demons and trying so hard to be better for each other, you could say it was perfect... Or so you thought.

Doubt started creeping through the crevices of your mind, dribbling droplets of poison bit by bit.

He started coming back home late, sometimes drunk... never too much, but you always noticed.

You started finding bits and pieces of what your poisoned mind thought as evidence... evidence of what? No... it couldn't be.

There were occasionally pieces of paper with someone's number on it in his pockets when you were to empty them before doing laundry.

There were strands of long hair on his clothes, different colors each day.

It all messed with your mind to the point of madness.

You started to pull away from him more and more every day.

And it seemed as though he didn't care at all.

What you didn't know was that he was doing the same.

It was all too much for him, so new... this newfound feeling burning in his heart, seething more day by day, overwhelming him to the point of wanting to entirely sever the ties between you.

And he thought he doesn't deserve it. All the love you give him, doting on him all the time. He felt like you're wasting your pure heart on a broken man who can't give anything back, pouring all your heart into this blackhole.

-----

"What’s wrong?" he asks, noticing your lingering gaze on his clothes.

"What’s this, Simon?... I- I keep finding these on your clothes..." you respond, voice almost shaking as you're on the verge of tears.

"We were sparring with the rookies. That's probably where they came from." he says, pausing for a moment, "What? You thought-"

"What about the numbers? Huh? The numbers in your pocket?" you cut him off, a cutting edge to your tone as you glare at him with rage... and fear... fear of what you might find out.

"What? They probably slipped them in my pocket when I was in the shower... fuckin' perverts... I was gonna throw them out... I forgot... What are you trying to say?" he says, voice rising with each sentence to match your angry tone.

You continue staring at him with millions of emotions coursing through you all at the same time.

Until you suddenly break down, wailing as you collapse on the ground and he's utterly dumbfounded as he stands there, not knowing what to do... or what even happened to cause such a reaction.

He takes you in his arms, still not sure about the whole situation.

"What’s wrong, love? Please talk to me!" he says while holding you and rubbing your back to somewhat soothe you.

"Simon! I- I don't know what's wrong with me... I'm sorry..." you choke out through violent sobs.

"Why did you come back so late? Not just tonight... Why did you start to act so distant all of a sudden?" you ask, gazing at him through glossy eyes as countless tears stream down your face.

"I'm sorry... I... I'm not used to this..." he utters in a quiet voice, head hanging down.

"It was going great! What happened to us?!" you ask as you cling to his chest while still uncontrollable sobs escape you.

"I think this is new for us both." he says, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

"Yeah..." you hum, holding on to him tightly, not planning to let go any time soon. And he will hold you back through all of it.

"We'll work through it, right?" you ask hesitantly, "We will, love... I promise." he says, finally putting your mind at ease.

[nothingbutsweetwords]

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"...ᴛʜᴇɴ ꜰᴀʟʟ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ."

Word count: 3000.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

Warnings: Angst, mention of injury, medical procedures.

HOLDING — 6. Him.

The days had become an endless parade of maesters, and his company had been reduced to their constant presence and that of his mother. The few hours he managed to spend alone vanished into a pit of lethargy, lying on the cold bed, too drowsy to engage in any activity. Pain, a constant intruder, forced him to rely on the milk of the poppy for any relief, as small as it might be.

Several days passed since the grand maester, with a worried face, began to show signs of alarm at his condition. However, he was too weakened to interpret his look. His body, in a terrifying contrast, burned while his skin bristled with cold, and his left eye, swollen and red, struggled to heal despite the scar that crossed it progressing slowly.

“We need to remove the eye, your grace” the maester had informed his mother, in a grave and urgent tone. “The eye is becoming infected. We have tried everything to prevent it, but it is useless.”

He heard his mother’s sobs as she held his hand. He didn’t need to ask what had to be done; the answer was clear and painful.

“When will you do it?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“As soon as possible. It’s a risky procedure, and there is a chance that…” He shook his head. “But if we don’t do it, the infection will keep growing, and there will be no turning back.”

“Very well” Alicent said, nodding as she braced herself, though her eyes were still full of tears. “My son is strong, he can endure this.”

“Yes, your grace.”

He started to see things that weren’t there, his mind distorting reality in a feverish delirium. He moved restlessly on the uncomfortable stretcher in the Grand Maester’s room. The old man gave him more milk of the poppy, mixed with other herbs in a steaming tea. As he drank it, he slowly sank into a restless sleep, not deep enough to drown out the suffering.

The pain of the original wound paled in comparison to the agony of the procedure. He was sure his screams could be heard in the farthest alley of King’s Landing, but he was unable to contain them. His chest broke with each cry, and time stretched into an endless torture. The intervention, a macabre dance of pain and resistance, seemed to last for eternal hours, and his body couldn’t withstand it, collapsing before it was all over.

The room was in dim light as he began to regain awareness. A dull pain throbbed on the left side of his face. The bandage pressed tightly against his skin, covering the empty space where his eye once was, while a persistent dizziness kept him on the verge of unconsciousness. The air, filled with the scent of different remedies, did little to mask the underlying stench of blood and suffering.

His mother was there, as she had been every day since the attack, sitting by his side with eyes red from crying. Noticing him stir, she took his hand tenderly, her voice breaking in whispered words of encouragement. However, he could barely process her words, his mind shrouded in a dense fog of confusion.

“You’re safe now, my son. The maesters say the procedure was a success” she said, trying to hold back tears. “The Mother has heard my prayers.”

With a blend of incredulity and resignation, his mother mentioned that the princess had opted to accompany them back to King’s Landing. Skeptical that a young lady would forsake her family to be there, and she had warned him of the risk it entailed, urging caution; if a brother could act thus, why not she? He lacked the strength and resolve to let her know she was wrong.

His mother did not fully understand the reason, ignorant of what had driven her to be there, but he did. He knew, deep within his being, that she had come for him. His heart, which had been steeped in despair, began to beat with the intensity of that first real encounter in the library so many moons ago.

However, the endless days without news of her had plunged him into anguish, making him doubt his own sanity. The conversations with his mother, which once had been a source of comfort, turned into a constant torment. Where was she? And why hadn’t she come?

Every movement was torture. Lifting his head from the pillow caused intense dizziness, and every deep breath sent stabs of pain through his skull. And if before the operation he had felt overwhelmed by the presence of the maesters, in that moment he was completely suffocated.

They came and went, insisting on the need to monitor his progress. Each day, they carefully removed the bandage, exposing the sensitive flesh to the dim light of the room. They applied ointments that burned like liquid fire and cleaned the wound, the sharp pain of these treatments a cruel reminder of his new reality. The fever was a persistent enemy, alternating between chills that made him shiver uncontrollably and sweats that soaked his clothes and sheets.

The bitter substance remained his ally, dulling the pain just enough to allow him to rest, yet never fully erasing the suffering.

Only when the sun set completely did they leave him in peace, with a jug full of the familiar infusion, and the promise to return at dawn.

And like every night, he opened the rear door, hoping to catch a glimpse of her face, waiting for her arrival, only to close it with the last ounce of his energy, enveloped in profound disappointment. Had it all been another cruel illusion, a fever-induced hallucination?

The following days were just like the ones before, a blend of pain and drowsiness. Sometimes, the pain became unbearable, and his cries filled the room, his strength sapped by the constant battle between torment and the sedatives that kept him in a fragile balance, barely afloat.

And although he deeply valued the newfound closeness with his mother—a relationship previously limited to meals and sermons—his heart desperately yearned for her. His mother's eyes, full of worry and love, were a great comfort, a light amidst the distress, but even that devotion did not ease her absence, one that could not be filled by anyone else.

Daily, as he shared moments with his mother, he hinted at his desire for visitors, without daring to name her directly. The response was always the same: if anyone wished to see him, she would let him know. But for now, he needed to conserve his strength and rest.

But that night, despite the pain that enveloped him like a blanket of thorns, a flash of happiness that had abandoned him in recent days—leaving him in his solitary room, steeped in deep melancholy—appeared out of nowhere, like a ray of sunshine piercing his dark reality. That night, against all odds, he saw her sweet face again, though marked by sadness and worry, she was there, present, tangible, an almost unreal vision in the somber castle.

In that moment, she was there, in his arms, whispering that she had tried to see him every day, that her desire to be by his side had never faltered. That confession was like a new anesthesia, a wave of immense calm that spread throughout his being. Helaena had heard his prayers, and his princess had responded to his call.

A silence full of meaning reigned in the room, his pain easing with each calm breath he heard from her. He didn't want to ruin the moment or exploit his weakened state and her compassion to obtain an easy forgiveness, but he needed to get it off his chest and ensure it wouldn’t be a stumbling block for them later.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his voice trembling, slowly stopping his caresses in her soft hair.

"What are you sorry for, Aemond?" she asked softly, though her voice reflected the tension of someone who fears hearing the answer. He wondered for a moment if she was even aware, but he continued anyway.

"I said some things that... It was never my intention to insult you" he said, trying to find the right words to offer her a sincere apology. He felt her tense, almost imperceptibly. Her breath hitched for a few seconds at his confession, yet she did not move from his chest.

"It was a... mistake. And I do not blame you for it, you were just trying to defend yourself."

"I shouldn't have..." the remorse weighing down every word.

"I know it won't happen again" she said, interrupting him in a manner that brooked no argument. "Let's not talk about this anymore" her voice a bit firmer, though her sweetness remained. He could do nothing but accept, though he still felt guilty.

The room returned to silence, though somewhat more tense. He resumed his gentle caresses on her disheveled curls, each movement of his hand releasing more of her typical sweet scent of roses, easing his tension, and helped him relax. A few minutes passed before her breathing became slower and more regular, falling into a deep sleep, and dragging him along with her.

He briefly wondered why his mother had forbidden her visits, but soon dismissed any speculation. He knew she believed she was acting in his best interest, thinking he needed rest and peace, not knowing that a single glance at her face would alleviate his pain more effectively than a hundred doses of the best remedy ever could.

That night, with the princess nestled against his chest and her arms holding him with infinite tenderness, he felt hope blossom again in his heart. The darkness completely dissipated with each synchronized breath, replaced by the warm certainty that, no matter what, he would not be alone. And the sweet promise of a better dawn arose anew.

Over time, the sharp pain began to subside. A sensation of emptiness and pressure appeared in the place where his eye once was. The fever slowly abated, and the maesters seemed more optimistic in their assessments. The wound was healing, slowly but steadily, and his body started to regain some of its former strength.

His body, weakened by fever, rest, and interventions, required careful and constant rehabilitation, the maesters had said. Walking, something he once did without thinking, became a monumental challenge. At first, even getting out of bed was a test of endurance. His legs, once strong and agile, now seemed weak and shaky, as if they might fail under the weight of his own body. The maesters offered him a cane for support, which he proudly refused, and his mother was always nearby, ready to hold him if he faltered.

Every step was a struggle against dizziness and lack of balance. Without the vision in his left eye, his perception was distorted. He had to do recommended exercises, such as walking in a straight line and performing slow, controlled movements. These sessions, though exhausting, began to strengthen his muscles and restore some of his lost confidence.

However, physical recovery was only part of the battle. Days turned into weeks, and another kind of hurt gave him no respite. 

The weight of loss continued to crush his spirit. Afternoons were the worst, as darkness began to fall, enveloping him, and the loneliness became unbearable. Everyone else was training, attending classes, fulfilling their duties, while he remained there, a prisoner. He would close his eye, wishing he could go back to being his old self, or at least imagine it, but the void remained, relentless and omnipresent, and every time he passed by his mirror, he avoided looking at his reflection, fearing to face the image of his own mutilated face.

Returning to combat training was an even greater challenge. The first time he held his sword, he felt a mix of relief and irritation. The familiar weight of the weapon in his hand was comforting, but every movement felt clumsy and unbalanced. Exercises that he once performed with grace were now arduous and erratic.

Criston Cole, the young guard with infinite patience, became his guide on this difficult journey. He taught him new training methods to compensate for the loss of his eye. Balance exercises were essential, standing on one foot, shifting weight from one foot to the other, and slow movements with the sword, all aimed at strengthening his stability.

They worked on improving his depth perception, something crucial for any swordsman. He was made to practice with fixed targets, the straw dummies. Cole would have him approach and retreat until he could better judge distances. At first, his strikes were imprecise, and his frustration grew with each failure. But slowly, with patience and determination, he began to improve.

The first sparring sessions were exhausting. Each bout was a bitter confrontation with his new reality, often ending with him on the ground, his pride as wounded as his body. However, she said that each fall was also a lesson, an opportunity to learn and adapt, and a victory on his path to recovery. He began to adjust his movements, relying more on his instinct and the feel of the sword moving through the air.

Despite everything, the constant presence of his mother, the nightly visits from his princess, and the tireless efforts of the maesters began to bear fruit. The scars, both visible and invisible, were now a part of him, hardening his spirit, and marking the beginning of a new stage in his life. A stage that, although painful and full of challenges, was also a testament to his resilience and ability to survive even the hardest trials.

He still remembered the night of the accident with unsettling clarity. The pain, the sudden darkness, and the fear that had wrapped around him like a suffocating shroud. Yet beyond the despair, he had found a new resolve. He would not be defined by it.

Over time, his body began to respond better to training. His balance improved, and although he would never regain full vision, his perception sharpened. He learned to use the field of vision he had left more effectively, moving with renewed caution and precision.

Although his movements still showed signs of his arduous journey, he had regained enough skill to face an opponent with confidence. Finally, the day came when he felt strong enough for a real practice duel. Aegon was his opponent, who seemed indifferent to the fact that he was still recovering. Everyone watched with expectant hearts. 

The duel was intense, each strike resonating with the force of his determination. He lost, but he did not feel defeated. He had proven, especially to himself, that he could still fight, that he could still be the warrior he had promised to be. His loss, far from being a sign of weakness, had become a symbol of his strength and perseverance.

However, his life did not revolve solely around the sword. There was a constant, warm presence that filled all his nights and, slowly, his days as well.

They had resumed their visits to the library. She had encouraged him to take up reading again. When she noticed his eye beginning to tire, she would take his book into her hands, setting her own aside, and read aloud. He could not complain about that, as her sweet voice turned any book into a masterpiece full of colors and nuances. 

He had also helped her immerse herself in the world of their mother tongue, High Valyrian. He was pleased to say that his princess was as intelligent as she was beautiful, learning with a speed he never had in his time. 

But their encounters in the library were limited to that, as the shadow of his guard, by order of his mother, never left him except to sleep, and they couldn’t help but feel withdrawn, observed. Now, in the comfort of his room, in the solitude of the night and away from any prying eyes, they could open up. They were under the covers, each in their place, facing each other, whispering their confidences.

“Your nameday is coming up” she said, looking at his face, still covered by a bandage. The maesters had provided him with a patch, but he still couldn’t get used to the discomfort of the hard material, which was irritating against his scar and didn’t completely cover it. So, during the nights, he still required the soft linen bandage. The maesters had not dared to ask why he didn’t just sleep without anything.

At first, it had caused him some inhibition that she looked at his face so attentively, as if memorizing every feature. He used to lie on his back to try to spare her any glimpse of the left side of his face, and she never questioned him nor asked otherwise. It was he who, over time, realized that there was no safer place than there, with the princess who had set everything aside to be with him and accompany him, though he still wasn’t ready to reveal himself completely.

“Yes, it's true” he said, remembering. His mind had been too pained and preoccupied. He had come to think that he would never get better or that it was something he would never overcome, so any form of celebration hadn’t even crossed his mind. But now, with his princess in front of him, his physical wound healed, and his gait almost restored, the idea began to excite him.

“I’m sure your father will throw a grand feast in your honor, to celebrate you and your recovery.” He almost laughed at the thought, certainly far from reality.

“I do not believe so. The king has never hosted a feast for me” he replied softly, and though he still felt some sadness over the strained relationship with his father, he set it aside. “Besides, I’d prefer something more modest.”

“I promise I will make it special” she vowed, and he believed every word. What he couldn't bring himself to express was that each day with her presence beside him was special.

@callsignwidow @helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers @scarletbedlam @squidscottjeans @woodlandwrites @oh-you-mean-me @fics-i-love-and-recommend

[cherryredstars]

Cherryyyy that angsty part in husband simon hcs really fucking hurt i need more😭😭😭 maybe a one shot based on it where they're fighting and she tells him how she feels also tells him about the divorce papers then both of them are so fucking heartbroken and decide to try harder to make it work simon needs to get his shit together😒

Husband!Simon Headcanons (context)

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Divorce, Some Comfort?

Unedited

There is only so much silence a room can hold before it becomes deafening.

You and Simon sit across from each other at the table, a half-full folder of documents thrown hazardously between the two of you on the rich wood- teetering on the edge. The other half is scattered on the floor, out of order and long forgotten. Neither of you make an effort to pick them up or to rescue the manila folder. Leaving everything half in, half-out and on the verge of falling apart. Simon had made an effort to catch it when he first threw it, but quickly retracted his hands when he saw it stop just short of falling.

Maybe there is something symbolic in that. In this sad, lonely picture formed between the two of you. In a place that used to be so warm and loving, now left cold and dirtied.

You haven’t looked at Simon since he had joined you at the table, and he doesn’t seem to be looking at you too. His eyes are far off, here but gone at the same time. Like always- like the nature of his life makes him. In his mind, he recalls the moments that led up to this. Slightly fleshed out images that dance in front of his eyes like war flashbacks.

The sound of his rough steps following after you when he had confronted you with the folder- clean and pristine, sitting by itself in a drawer he never knew you used- echo in his ears. He can see the dimly lit hallway the two of you walked down as you tried to escape into the living room, only stopped when he had extended his arm and grabbed you by the wrist.

“How long have you had these?”

…

“So what, huh? You’re not going to say anything to me now?”

“And say what, Simon? What can I say to you? You’ve never listened to me before. Do you want me to beg you for something? Haven’t I done enough begging in my lifetime for you to do something?”

“…When were you planning on giving these to me?”

“I can’t give something to someone who’s never here.”

Simon doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sob that had clawed itself through your chest, or the way you had turned so sharply away from him as you walked away. He had been frozen in his spot, helpless in trying to soothe you. His own words trapped behind muscle and denial as they screamed I’m here! I’m right here.

Now he finds himself lost, floating in a sea of dark, murky water with no land in sight. Buried under dirt with nothing to crawl out with. Trapped and panicked and suffocating. His heart craving to go home, but his mind telling him there might not be a home to go back to.

Not unless he fights for it.

You keep your gaze forward as his chair creaks. Wood worn in from time and not use. Simon walks over the pile of paper, smooth under his feet. A path, a bridge, a connection.

Simon’s torso fills your vision. Then his chest, and his neck, and his face. Then he’s gone again, out of your line of sight as he kneels before you. The weight of his head falls onto your lap, the crown of his head pressing into your lower stomach. His arms- usually heavy- are like feathers around your waist as he simply holds you. Your hand drifts to his hair, and you run your fingers through it in comfort.

“Simon.”

“Hm?”

“Your back and knees will hurt later.”

“I know.”

Your eyes drift down to him, watching the way he closes his eyes and simply breaths you in. Like he’s trying to remember and engrave something in his mind. You sigh softly, a tie between tired and fond of this large man.

“The papers are still all over the floor, Simon.”

“I’ll clean it up. I promise.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Okay, Simon. Okay. I believe you.”

You look away again, scanning the mess on the floor and the folder on the table.

“Make sure you take out the trash when you finish.”

Simon squeezes you tighter, and you ignore the way your pants are starting to collect raindrops.

“Thank you.”

[matchingbatbites]

settle down (it'll all be clear)

T | 2.4k | Omegaverse, Alpha + Nurse Steve, Omega + New dad Eddie

Read on A03

Steve is going insane. He's only been inputting patient info into the system for fifteen minutes, but the repetition of it makes it feel like forever. The stack he's been working on barely has a dent in it, but he still thinks he could weep tears of joy when Claudia steps up to the counter and says “Steve, dear? We've got an Omega who-”

“I'm on it!” he replies before she can even finish. Just slams his current file shut and pushes the stack off to the side before standing. “Just tell me who and where.”

The woman chuckles and shakes her head fondly. “Eddie Munson, three-fourteen.”

Steve nods and gives her a grateful smile as he heads down the hall. 

Sometimes omegas can become overwhelmed after childbirth, their hormones and emotions reaching a climax that leaves them in a state of extreme vulnerability. Usually they have a mate or family member nearby that can help settle them, help soothe their emotional overload.

But sometimes they don't have anyone. Single or abandoned omegas left to deal with it on their own usually have a harder time afterward, and it's become pretty common practice for newborn wards to have an alpha nurse on staff who can step in and fill that role.

Steve isn’t the only alpha nurse on shift tonight, but he still tends to be first choice for moments like this. Something about his demeanor is perfectly suited for the job, and he’s become an expert settler at this point. He knocks on the door to room 314 before stepping inside, and the Omega looks up at his entry. 

The first thing Steve notices is the smell of burnt coffee that fills the room, acrid and bitter. The second is that the man looks exhausted. His brown hair is pulled into a haphazard bun, and there are fresh tears streaming down his face. He has a little bundle of blanket and baby clutched to his chest and his shoulders tremble beneath the hospital gown. 

Steve's heart aches at the sight and he can’t help but step closer. “Hi there. My name is Steve, I'm an Alpha on staff here in the newborn ward. Nurse Claudia said you might need a bit of settling?”

The Omega - Eddie, Steve remembers - just looks at him for a moment, big brown eyes all shiny and wet from crying, and then he nods. His voice breaks on a weak “Please,” and Steve is at the bedside in an instant. He pulls off the scent patch on his wrist and offers his arm to Eddie, wanting to make sure the man isn't put off by his smoke and spice scent.

A bit of pride swells up as the Omega’s eyes flutter before squeezing shut, and when he nods in approval Steve peels off his remaining patches. He moves to grab the nearby chair, intending to drag it closer, but is stopped by a hand fisting in his shirt. 

“Could you, uh. In the bed? Please?”

The man looks on the verge of a breakdown and Steve melts a little. Even though it’s not exactly protocol, he nods, and Eddie’s body seems to sag in relief. He scoots over and Steve sits next to him, purposely on top of the covers as he wraps his arm around those trembling shoulders and tucks Eddie close to his side. His low, rumbling purr starts up on instinct and Eddie’s breath hitches on a sob before he’s shoving his face into Steve’s neck. He just pulls Eddie closer, holds him tighter and lets him cry it out.

It takes a little while for Eddie to calm down, for the tears and the scent of burnt coffee to subside. It’s replaced with something sweet and milky, similar to the mocha lattes Steve likes to get on his way to work. It’s intoxicating, actually, and Steve can’t help but press his nose to Eddie’s temple and inhale.

“Sorry,” Eddie mutters after a bit. “I didn't think I'd be such a fucking mess.”

���Don’t apologize. You’d be surprised at how normal this is.”

The Omega pulls back a little, removing his face from the crook of Steve’s neck while keeping as much contact between them as possible. “What is? Having a breakdown and crying all over an absolute stranger?”

Steve chuckles and rubs Eddie’s shoulder in comfort. “Yeah, actually. There’s a reason we keep a few alphas on staff.”

“Glad to know it’s not just me, then,” he says, before his attention is pulled by a soft noise from the bundle in his arms. Steve looks down as well, getting his first look at Eddie’s pup, and oh, she’s beautiful. All rosy with a plump little face, and Steve feels helpless as he reaches out, touching her cheek as she coos softly.

“Doc says she has high alpha markers,” Eddie mutters. “I started thinking about how she’s going to be the complete opposite of me and I got so- so scared. That I won’t know what I’m doing, that I won’t be able to raise her the way she deserves. That I’ll be a fuck up like my parents were.”

Steve frowns and pulls Eddie closer so he can rest his cheek on the crown of brown curls, and Eddie starts to purr softly at the contact.

“I think the fact that you’re worried about all of that shows how much you care, shows that you want to be a good parent. And as someone who also had shitty parents, I think you will be.” He hears a soft sniffle and kicks his own purr back on, and the way it overlaps with Eddie’s makes something warm and fuzzy blossom in Steve’s chest. 

They sit together for a long time, just chatting as Eddie’s pup - Ronnie, he learns - dozes away, clearly content. He learns that Eddie is single, that he knows who Ronnie’s dad is but doesn’t want the man anywhere near the little girl. They’d broken up before Eddie even realized he was pregnant, and he’d moved back to Hawkins as soon as he found out.

Steve learns that Eddie lives with his uncle, that the man was originally supposed to be here for the birth but of course, he happened to be working when Eddie went into early labor. In turn, he shares a bit about his own life, his job and his best friend and the not-kids he considers to be pack. 

He only leaves when Ronnie eventually wakes up, crying and hungry, and reassures Eddie that all he has to do is call and Steve will be back in an instant.

Leaving the room - leaving Eddie - is hard, harder than it ever has been with anyone else. His inner alpha nearly whines as he walks away, as he puts distance between himself and the lonely Omega. He stops by the break room to apply some new scent patches and uses the chance to settle himself. 

Yes, Eddie is single, and yes, his scent has a pull to it that Steve hasn’t experienced in a long time. But he’s a patient, and Steve can’t let his wires get crossed while the man is in his care. That would be beyond inappropriate, especially with the fragile state Eddie is in.

Steve goes back to the nurse’s station, intent on getting more of the files put into the system, and finds his stack about half the size of what it had been. He mentally reminds himself to thank Claudia when he sees her, and sits down to hopefully finish the tedious work.

Eddie calls him back to the room a few times, including once to sheepishly ask for his water pitcher to be refilled, and once to ask Steve to put Ronnie back in the bassinet so he can get some well-needed sleep. Steve stays with him even after he dozes off, slightly entranced by the sight of Eddie’s slender fingers held in his own, larger hand. It looks right, feels right, and he gives it a gentle squeeze before he slips out of the room and back to work. 

At around five in the morning Eddie’s uncle shows up, grateful when Steve shows him back to the room with the still sleeping duo. The man seems nice, even tears up a bit when he sees Ronnie for the first time. Steve lets him be, knowing that he's probably tired after a night of working while stressing over his nephew.

He goes back once his shift ends around seven to find both men out cold, and he resists the instinct that urges him to go over and scent Eddie one last time, to leave a reminder of himself on Eddie's skin. Somehow he manages to pull himself away, and with one last look at the sleeping man and his little family, Steve leaves for the day.

He's off that evening, and he spends it thinking about Eddie. Every part of Steve’s inner alpha urges him to find the Omega, to show Eddie that Steve would be so good for him. He wants to bring the man back to his den, wants to bathe him and cook for him, wants to take care of Eddie so all he has to worry about is his pup and his recovery. 

It’s a lot to feel for someone he met less than a day ago, someone he barely knows anything about. There’s just something about Eddie that makes Steve want more, more of his attention, his affection. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold Eddie, to sit in the heady mix of their mingling scents, he wants to do it over and over - every day, if he can.

When Steve goes in for his next shift Eddie is gone, and he does his best to tamp down the disappointment he feels. Patient, Steve, Eddie was a patient.

“He was discharged earlier today,” Claudia tells him at some point, and Steve has no idea how she’s able to read him as well as she does. “You know, if you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t wondering anything,” Steve replies while pretending to be busy with work. It’s bullshit, and he’ll probably have to redo it all later because he can’t concentrate, but it’s some kind of a distraction. The woman just hums in disbelief.

“Well, I told him that you usually work nights, two days on, one day off. Just in case.” She’s so casual about it, like just the thought of Eddie stopping by to see him doesn’t set Steve’s heart racing. He tries to keep busy, tries to distract himself because he knows Eddie probably won’t be back tonight - not when he was just discharged - but it doesn’t stop him from hoping.

Steve spends the next week of shifts waiting for a familiar face, and each morning he leaves a bit more disappointed. He tells himself over and over that Eddie is recovering, that he really shouldn’t be out and about so early after having his pup. He reminds himself again that Eddie was just a patient, that Steve was just doing his job and it wasn’t supposed to mean anything. 

It’s a slow Tuesday night, and Steve is working at the nurse’s station when the smell of warm coffee hits him, too sweet and chocolatey for anything you could get in the hospital. He looks up just as Eddie leans against the counter, and- wow, the man is gorgeous when he isn’t crying from distress. His hair is down, a cascade of dark brown curls that Steve wants to sink his hands into, and he’s got a bit of color back in his cheeks, making him look much healthier than he had before.

Steve breathes a soft “Eddie,” and the man bites into his lip, clearly a bit shy as he smiles. “Hi, Steve. I, uh- Claudia told me when you’d be working and I just wanted to stop by and thank you for taking care of me when I was here. I was in a bad place without Wayne there, and you really helped me out. So, thank you.”

Thank him. Right, Eddie’s here to thank Steve for being good at his job, not for- any other reasons. Steve smiles and shrugs. “Yeah, of course. I mean, it seemed like you needed it, so.”

“I definitely did,” Eddie confirms, and Steve’s eyes flick down to where the Omega is fidgeting with his rings, chunky silver things that only look bigger on Eddie’s slender hands. “You know, Claudia also told me that you guys have a policy against dating patients, and since I’ve been discharged for over a week, I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”

Eddie wants to go out.

With him.

Steve is thankful for the required scent patches because he knows the area would be flooded with the smell of happy alpha otherwise. He doesn’t get a chance to respond before Eddie is continuing, “I know your shift ends pretty early in the morning, so I was thinking we could grab breakfast tomorrow? Benny's is usually open at the crack of dawn and their food is pretty good, so.”

He finishes with a little shrug and Steve is so endeared to him already. “I'd love that, Eddie,” he replies, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. “I get off at seven, so I can meet you there? Say 7:30?”

Eddie beams and Steve's stomach flips at the sight. He's barely able to bite back the beginning of a purr as Eddie says “That sounds great. I'll probably have to bring Ronnie, if that's okay?”

“I think I’d be more upset if you didn’t. I never got to hold her while you were here, you know.”

“Then I’ll definitely bring her.” Eddie taps on the counter as he takes a step back, and Steve knows they probably look like a couple of idiots with how they’re smiling at each other. He can't help it, even though he’s sure to get the teasing of his life later from the other nurses. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

Steve nods and smiles wider. “See you then, Eddie.”

(The teasing he gets is all worth it the next morning, when Steve sees the way Eddie looks at him as he holds Ronnie for the first time. It's even more worth it a few months later when he and Eddie exchange bites, and Steve is finally able to move his mate and pup into his home.)

[heeliopheelia]

"this is not your fault" (jake x reader)

genre: angst, fluff word count: 0.8k requested by nonnie ♡

warnings: crying, mentions of an argument

You check the clock for the nth time this night. 3:32 am. With your throat tight, you turn on your side, somehow unable to find a comfortable enough position on your couch. The guilt has been eating you from the inside for the past two hours.

You're well aware that you're the one who was in the wrong for the whole time. It took you three hours to let go of your pride and stubbornness and finally acknowledge that. All the yelling and mean words you spat on your boyfriend keep running over your mind like a broken record and you have to cover your face with your hands to try and somehow block these thoughts out for even couple minutes.

There are no excuses for your behavior, you know that. No bad day at work, no matter how frustrating, should ever make you snap like that and take all of the increasing tension out on your boyfriend. Jake has always been nothing but patient with you, calmly enduring your mood swings and every tiniest outbursts of yours. Which is why you feel such resentment towards yourself for hurting him this much.

You're facing the backrest of the couch, eyes squeezed tightly as you try to force the tears to stay unshed, so you get really caught off guard when you feel a fluffy blanket draping over your body.

"You're gonna catch a cold, silly," he mumbles quietly, thinking you're asleep.

He carefully tucks the blanket around your shivering body and your heart swells in its size at his kindness. The second that you hear him shuffling away from you, you swing your legs to the side and sit up on the couch, trapping his waist in between your arms.

"Don't go," you let out a whimper, letting all of the tears flow down your cheeks.

And he listens to you. Jake doesn't move an inch, hating to see you suffering so much. He's already used to dealing with your pride, and although he can't say you didn't hurt him today, he hates witnessing you breaking down even more. He can clearly hear the shortness of your breath as you sob quietly, fingers clenching tightly on his tank top.

You stay like that for couple minutes - you clinging onto him with all of your might, face buried in his stomach as his fingers gently comb through your hair. After another moment, he finally loosens your grip on his middle and crouches down in front of you, letting you snuggle into his neck instead.

His lips press to the crown of your head lovingly, hands holding you closely to his chest as your tears soak through his clothing.

"I'm sorry," you mumble incoherently, sniffling between your words. Your breathing comes out sharp and stuttered but Jake's hand still stroking your hair slowly starts to soothe you. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, this is not your fault alone," he says, leaning his chin on your shoulder before placing a kiss on your neck. "I could've been more understanding too."

"No, this one's entirely on me," you manage to say as you clench your hands on the back of his tank top. "And I'm really sorry, Jake. Please forgive me. I'm never gonna let my frustrations out on you, I promise."

With a sigh, he pulls away and cups your face in between his slim fingers. Your tear-stained cheeks glisten in the dark room and Jake wipes them away with the back of his hand, leaning in to kiss your brow bone warmly.

"I forgave you the second I left the room. I came to check up on you cause you haven't come back to bed, love. If I knew you were here wide awake for all this time, I would've come and get you sooner instead of letting you cry in here all by yourself."

"It's what I deserved, Jake. How do you even still put up with me after all this time?" You ask, reaching your hand out to stroke his cheek softly. "You're so sweet. Way too good for me."

"Don't say that," he scolds you gently before leaning in and pressing your lips together. His kisses are slow and so full of love that you find yourself on the verge of breaking down again. You can feel his fingers swiping underneath your eyes, getting rid of all the tears that have managed to escape your eyes again. "No more crying, okay? Wanna go to bed now? We should probably get some sleep."

You nod your head, letting him wrap his arms around you and lift you up. He pulls you closely to his chest and pecks your head, muttering a quiet love you in your hair.

As all of the previous guilt and self-loathing slowly starts fading away, you catch yourself falling asleep the second your bodies hit the soft bed, safely tucked in Jake's arms.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @venividibitchin

[auggieblogs]

ugh, math!

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by math exam anxiety, you were on the verge of despair. Max's comforting presence and soothing words were your saving grace.

Author's note: Oh my god, I absolutely love this prompt. Thank you so much, the anon who requested this. I really hope you enjoy this!

P.S.- I am not technically a woman in STEM so I don't know the struggles, but I have 12th grade math, and it is downright depressing for me. Again, I might have projected a little too much. Apologies in advance.

The weight of the upcoming math final pressed heavily on your shoulders, making your chest tight with anxiety. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the complex numbers and equations in your textbook. You deeply regretted taking this class, and an overwhelming sense of incompetence washed over you. You were about to give in to despair, convinced that you simply weren't smart enough for this. The more you tried to grasp the concepts, the more they seemed to slip through your fingers like sand.

Just when you thought you couldn't bear it any longer, the door opened, and Max walked into the room. His perceptive eyes immediately caught the distress etched on your face, and worry flashed across his features. Without hesitation, he rushed to your side, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Max asked softly, crouching down in front of you.

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears, and it all became too much to bear. You broke down in front of him, your sobs escaping uncontrollably, your head buried in your trembling hands.

Max hated seeing you like this. He immediately wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, and kissing your forehead gently as he whispered soothing words. His fingers ran through your hair in slow, calming strokes, offering comfort and reassurance.

You hiccupped between sobs, words tumbling out in a rush. "I can't do this, Max. It's so difficult, and I feel like giving up. I'm not smart enough for this, I just can't."

Max held you even closer, his voice unwavering and reassuring. "Listen, bub, you are incredibly smart, and you're not a quitter. I know you can do this."

His words gave you a glimmer of encouragement. Sniffling and wiping away your tears, you took a deep breath and returned to your study materials. Max remained by your side, not entirely understanding the complex math, but his presence was a source of comfort.

As you worked through the complex equations, Max fetched your favourite chocolate milk and prepared your go-to comfort sandwich. He knew that a touch of familiar comfort would help you feel better. Between study sessions, he quizzed you on formulas and cheered you on with a smile and encouraging words.

Hours upon hours passed in intense studying, but Max's belief in you never wavered. He could see your fatigue setting in as the night wore on. Gently, he suggested, "You've been working so hard, love. Maybe it's time to get some rest."

Reluctantly, you agreed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling upon you. Max helped you tidy up your study materials and led you to the bedroom. He tucked you into bed, his fingers continuing to run soothingly through your hair.

"Try to relax," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "You've got this"

After a night of restful sleep, you woke up early, refreshed and determined. Max's encouraging words from the previous night echoed in your mind, reminding you of your own capabilities. With newfound confidence, you revisited your formulas and reviewed the key concepts, ensuring you were as prepared as possible.

As you entered the exam room, your heart still raced with anticipation, but there was a newfound sense of self-assuredness within you. The questions on the paper no longer seemed insurmountable; you tackled them with determination and clarity.

Hours passed by in a blur of focused effort, and when you finally submitted your exam, you felt a sense of accomplishment wash over you. The exam went remarkably well, and you couldn't help but smile as you left the room.

Outside, Max was waiting for you, a proud and supportive grin on his face. His mere presence brought an extra layer of warmth to your already joyful heart. He enveloped you in a hug.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆｡˚𓆝⋆｡˚

The day the results were finally revealed was a day of both excitement and trepidation. Your heart raced as you logged into the exam portal, hoping beyond hope for a passing grade. As the page loaded, your eyes widened in disbelief, and a rush of pure elation surged through you – you hadn't just passed; you had aced the exam!

Unable to contain your excitement, you called Max immediately. His voice was filled with pride and joy as he exclaimed, "I knew you could do it, baby! I'm so incredibly proud of you!"

He couldn't wait to celebrate this incredible achievement with you. He suggested a celebratory dinner or date night. However, you were still feeling the exhaustion from your intense studying and the emotions of the past few days. You wanted nothing more than to stay in and unwind in the comfort of your own space.

Max decided to make the evening just as special at home. He ordered your favourite takeout, ensuring it was exactly what you were craving. He also brought home an assortment of your favourite ice cream flavours, knowing that dessert would be the perfect indulgence for this celebratory occasion.

As evening descended, you both snuggled on the couch, surrounded by pillows and blankets. The collection of your favourite movie, "The Princess Diaries," is played on the screen. Max's arm wrapped securely around you as he pulled you close, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. Laughter filled the air as you indulged in your ice cream, not caring about what was going on in the film but rather the ridiculous jokes Max was currently making.

With each passing minute, the exhaustion from the weeks of preparation began to catch up with you. Max noticed your eyelids growing heavy, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you, content and peaceful in slumber. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face and took a picture, capturing the moment .

maxverstappen1 posted on their story

[funnyjb]

It will always be you.

It’s been two months since then. Two months since Joe and I broke up. We have been together since freshman year of college.

I’ve been staying back at my parent’s house that’s only 40 minutes from Cincy. Today was a hard day so far. Joe is playing in his first game since the injury. I haven’t really spoken to him. The whole reason we have been off is because of him. I gave him my all and he pushed me away. I understand it’s been hard on him and a lot of pressure going into the season but he shouldn’t have been acting the way he did. He’s a great, amazing, handsome, talented, sweet, and strong guy, but something changed.

I would be there for him and he would just push me away. I would ask him how his day was and he wouldn’t respond or just say “y/n I’m not in the mood.”

He wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t even look at me. He would cuddle at night but then the next morning just a goodbye and out then door.

I had enough.

Flashback

“Hey,how was your day?”- you

“I’m not in the mood right now, y/n.”- joe

I was pissed

I slammed my hand on the counter.

“I’m done, joe! I’m so sick and tired of this bs.”- you

He turned around.

“What do you mean?”- joe

His eyes were wide

“I mean I’m so done with your bullshit. You don’t even acknowledge me anymore. You push me away. I know I might sound like a crazy girlfriend right now but I’m saying what needs to be said. Every time I open my mouth to say something you nod or say “not right now.” For two straight months that’s all I’ve been getting from you. We’ve been getting into so many arguments recently joe. I don’t know what happened but nothing is working. I’ve been trying so hard to let you do your thing and I’m so proud of you for how far you’ve come but all you seem to do now is push me away. I feel like I’m in the middle of the ocean stuck and stranded while you are on an island miles away.”

“Y/n….”- joe

“Don’t Joe. I think we need a break.”- you

I had tears streaming down my face

Joe walked over to me

He took a deep breath. I could tell he was on the verge of tears.

“I…I…think you’re right, y/n.”- joe

“R…really?”- you

“Yeah…I have always loved you and forever will, but nothing is working out now. I hate to do this, I hate it, I hate it, but you are right.”- joe

He was now crying as well

“Umm….well…. I guess I will stay with my parents.”- you

Joe pulled me in for a hug.

“I will always love you, y/n. I’m so so sorry I’ve been like this. It’s not right. It’s not fair to you.”- joe

I looked at him and put my hands on his face.

I couldn’t even get words out of my mouth I was crying so hard.

“It’s…it’s ok. I understand Joe. We’ve been through a lot I know you. You are strong, kind, caring, brave, and an amazing person. I believe we can work this out. I believe in us, but we need time. I will always love you, Joesph.”- you

I kissed him.

I then grabbed my bag that was already packed. It broke my heart. Joe was sobbing and so was I. He pulled me into one last hug and a kiss.

“I will be here whenever we are ready, I’m here.”- joe

I nodded

I then left.

End of flashback

I sat on the couch. The tv was on with joes game.

“I can turn it off.”- your dad

“No, no, I want to watch.”- you

Just then the camera pointed to Joe running out.

I got emotional.

He’s ok.

I was so proud of him.

He started out on the field and just a couple minutes later a touchdown to tee.

I was so happy.

“Yeah Joe!”- your brother

He only was on for a couple minutes until he came off and was in coach mode.

Damm he looks good.

After an hour the game was over. Bengals sadly lost but Joe did awesome out there and so did the team.

———————————————————————

I was cleaning the dishes till the door bell rang. It was now 9:00.

“I’ll get it!”- you

I walked over to the door and opened it. I couldn’t believe who was there. Joe.

“J…Joe.”- you

“Hi.”- joe

He had his hands in his pockets.

“Can…can we talk?”- joe

“Umm.”- you

I looked behind me to make sure my family wasn’t listening in.

“Yeah, sure.”- you

I closed the door behind me and sat on the couch on the outside porch. Joe sat across from me.

“I..I honestly don’t even know what to say cause there is so many things I could say.”- Joe

“Well, I’m all ears.”- I smiled

“I just want to say I fucked up. I fucked up bad. I should have realized what asshole I was to you sooner. I been going to therapy. It’s been helping a lot with everything. I have been miserable ever since you left. Seriously talk to my mom I cried and got snot all over her shirt while talking to her.”- joe

I chuckled

“Seriously y/n, I’m so so so sorry. I can’t do life without you. You are my rock and the reason I’m here doing what I do. You believed in me. You fought for me through thick and thin. You have given me your trust, love and support throughout all these years and I couldn’t be more grateful for all of it. I need you, y/n. I can’t even be at the house I’ve been living at Sam’s because I couldn’t be in the house we filled with love and laughter without you. I understand if you don’t want be back. I can leave I know what you are going to say.”-joe

He was about to get up when I interrupted him

“No! Don’t go. I don’t think you do know what I’m going to say.”- you smiled

He sat back down.

I took a deep breath.

“You haven’t been an asshole, well…maybe a little.”- you laugh

Joe laughed

“I have never stopped loving you and supporting you. I saw you on tv today. You were incredible. You always are. I’m so proud of you, Joe. I understand that when you are hurt you tend to push people away. I know you have said that before, but I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was trying to be there for you and you pushed me away. And just as you were getting better and going back to practice you didn’t even acknowledge me. I will always be there for you. I just need you to be there for me. I need you to know I am there for you. I need you to stop pushing me away when you need it most.”- you

“I will do anything for you, y/n. I will love you till our bodies grow old and we can even walk.”- joe

I laughed

“Then I accept your offer!”- you

Joe perked up. A big smile spread across his face.

He then walked over to me pulled me in and kissed me. His eyes were teary.

“I’ve missed you so much.”-joe

“I’ve missed you more.”- you

I was now teary

“Not possible.”- joe

He then pulled me in for another kiss

“I love the hair btw, always been into blondes.”- you

“Oh really? Then how did I get so lucky our freshman year?”- joe

“I honestly don’t know.”- you smile

Joe chuckled

I got up and went to the door.

“I will pack right now!”- you

“Ok!”- Joe

I opened the door but then I stopped myself. I turned around and ran up to Joe and gave him a big kiss on the lips.

“It will always be you.”- you

“It has and will forever be you.”- joe smiled

——————————————————————-

The end!

Authors note: I know Joe is a little corny and cringey but he’s just so cute.

P.s. sorry joe was kind of an asshole. lol

[shaunamilfman]

King of My Heart

Summary: "The story of your burgeoning relationship with Jackie Taylor told through a series of drunken encounters. College au."

A/N: drunk girlfailure jackie my beloved. its not described graphically but there are mentions of jackie throwing up a few times if that bothers you. based loosely on this ask.

August.

The first time you met Jackie Taylor she was on her knees on a dirty bathroom floor puking her guts out into the toilet. Normally you would have just minded your business, but you weren’t nearly drunk enough to ignore the accompanying sounds of her sobs. You stumble slightly into the room, squinting slightly as the bright fluorescent lights are so much brighter than anything else at the party. “Hey.” You say cautiously as you carefully drop to your knees next to her. You place a comforting hand on her back as you draw her hair behind her head and hold it out of the way. 

Your nose wrinkles disgustedly at the whole experience, but you turn your head away from her as you gently rub her back. “Just get it out pretty girl, it’s gonna be okay.” You murmur comfortingly. You do your best to ignore the sounds of her retching lest you join her, but you can tell that she’s finally stopped sobbing so you decide talking must be working. You keep up the encouragement until you finally hear her flush it away. She leans back exhaustedly as she shifts off of her knees to sit back against the tub and buries her head in her hands. You awkwardly drop your hands off her, sitting just a little too close to her now that she’s stopped being sick.

She brings her hands back down from her face as she stares pathetically over at you. She smiles weakly in greeting as you take her in: her wild hair, bloodshot eyes, red nose, and her mascara running down her face in tracks. You smile back, not wanting to let her on to how much of a mess she looks like right now. You suspect she might still be on the verge of crying, but considering the way her sobs were rocking her entire body when you walked in you were willing to take it as a win. “Are you alright, pretty girl?” You ask genuinely. You start to regret the question as her lip starts quivering as her eyes tear up again. 

Your eyes widen suddenly. Oh shit. You think. You barely have time to catch her as she launches herself into your arms on the bathroom floor. You awkwardly wrap your arms around her as you receive a lap full of crying girl. She buries her head in your shoulder, which you think is far too intimate for a stranger you met in the bathroom but you certainly weren't going to be the one to tell her that. You can vaguely hear her whimper out some words but she’s crying so hard you can’t really make heads or tails of them. You finally catch something about ‘drunk’ and ‘Shauna’.

“Who’s Shauna?” You ask while rubbing at her back, figuring she wanted to talk about it. She spills every last little detail between sobs into your shoulder. You can’t help but be strangely invested in the whole story. You did ask with the intention to comfort her but you found yourself drawn more and more into the drama of it all. You wondered what the fuck happened to make her lonely enough to spill all this information to the first stranger she found on the bathroom floor, but that was none of your business.

“What?” You ask, gasping in shock. She pulls back, eyes red and swollen as she nods seriously. She wipes at the tear tracks on her face as she finally manages to calm herself down.

“I know. I know.” She draws out dramatically.

“She really said all that shit after she slept with your boyfriend?” You asked in disbelief, shaking your head as she hums in acknowledgment. You really weren’t expecting to get such good gossip out of this venture, but this shit was better than reality TV. You reach up above you to pull a hand towel off of the bar and gently bat her hands away as you wipe her mascara off her face. She’s sitting fully in your lap at this point, which you're doing your best to ignore, and lets her eyes close as you take care of her face. When she opened her eyes again the expression on her face was unreadable but her big eyes seemed to stare straight into your soul.

You shift uncomfortably as you look away, which is harder than you’d think considering how close to you she’s sitting. As if she’s suddenly becoming aware that this isn’t a normal amount of intimacy to share with a stranger she mumbles a quick sorry, but interestingly enough makes no actual move to get out of your lap. What the fuck is wrong with this girl? You wonder idly but decide it would probably be easier to just go along with it at this point. She has this way of making her socially unacceptable actions seem perfectly normal as if you’d be the weird one if you questioned her about them.

You listen quietly as she talks your ear off about this and that, sitting back against the wall with your legs crossed as she sits sideways across your lap. She throws her arm over your shoulder as she talks, seemingly getting more comfortable the more you allow it. By the time she finally stands up and stumbles back to her dorm, you think you must know everything there is to know about soccer and the epic rise and fall of her friendship with this Shauna girl. You stand up slowly as she leaves, your legs going numb for how long she was sitting on top of them. You stumble back to your own apartment falling straight into bed, emotionally exhausted from the entire experience.

…

October.

“Y/N!” Jackie calls out happily. You can tell from the slightly glazed look in her eyes that she’s already had one drink too many. You weren’t entirely sure how she had learned your name but were admittedly pretty curious to know if she had gone out of her way to find out. Secretly you hoped she did. You’d run into her at a few more parties, not all of them as eventful as the first. You murmur a quick goodbye to the friends you came with as you walk over to see what she wants. Her face lights up when she sees you coming. Her chair is far too small for the both of you to sit comfortably, but you still acquiesce as she excitedly pats the seat next to her. You shift a little awkwardly at the way it pressed your thighs together, but she certainly doesn’t seem upset about it.

“Hey, gorgeous.” You greet a little awkwardly. You still didn’t know her name, but she always flushes with pleasure at the compliments so you’ve decided just to roll with it.

She pats you excitedly on the thigh as she starts talking, mouth immediately moving a mile a minute as she catches you up on everything that’s happened since the last time you ran into her. You find yourself strangely invested in her life and listen intently as she speaks. She seemed oddly lonely for such a bubbly girl, and you wondered why she was having so much trouble finding other people to talk to at these parties when she obviously could have made a lot of other friends if she tried.

“God, I know.” You interrupt. “I had a professor like that my first semester. The average was like 45% and somehow we were the problem.” Jackie nods enthusiastically in agreement as she speaks.

“He acts like he doesn’t have a one-star rating!” She groans, leaning her head against your shoulder. She pouts up at you, as if she’s the only person to have this problem ever. You raise your cup to your lips to hide your grin, but judging by the knowing look she sends you it didn’t work too well. She sighs dramatically in offense, shaking her head as if disappointed. Jackie catches sight of your empty cup, suddenly standing up and dragging you off to the kitchen with her.

“Jesus!” You exclaim as you stumble after her, a little dizzy from the sudden change in position. You were honestly surprised that she managed to pull you up like that: she was definitely a lot stronger than you gave her credit for. She rummages through a few glass bottles sitting on the table before she finally finds the one she wants. She grabs your cup from you as she starts pouring you a drink. “Oh,” You say in surprise. “Is that for me?”

Jackie rolls her eyes as if to say obviously, as she continues. “Then this one girl was like maybe the people who didn’t study are bringing the average down, as if I didn’t have to step over her passed out on the floor the night before the exam.” You laugh softly as you look up at Jackie with an overly fond grin. Your eyes lock as she returns an equally fond look, the two of you getting lost in each other in the middle of the kitchen. You nearly jump apart at a loud yell of glee coming from another room. Jackie’s hand flails slightly, knocking over the bottle she just sat down on the table. It falls over on your hand with a loud thud, making you hiss in pain as you draw it back towards your chest.

You groan as you flex your fingers painfully, but it fades quickly enough that you know it isn’t anything serious. Jackie bats your other hand away so she can examine it closely, poking at your fingers as if to determine any damage. “What the fuck is that going to do?” You ask wryly, the corners of your lips quirking up in amusement. She ignores you as she keeps messing with your hand, failing at what she obviously considers to be a subtle move as she laces your fingers together.

“I’ll have you know that poking at the wound is a tried and true method.” Jackie defends with a too-wide grin. “I was really worried about your fingers.” You shake with silent laughter, your face contorting weirdly as you try to choke it back. “What?” She asks in confusion, which finally sends you spiraling over the edge.

“I bet you were.” You say between peels of laughter, flexing your fingers in an obscene gesture. Jackie scoffs, a blush immediately covering her face, and gently shoves at your shoulder in reproach.

“See if I nurse you back to health again,” Jackie mutters with a pout, looking adorably embarrassed as she backs away from you.

“Wait! Wait, Doctor…” You trail off playfully, giving her an expectant look. She grins as she shakes her head.

“Guess you’ll just have to keep calling me pretty, Y/N.” She says smugly. You slowly grin at the realization: she’s been purposely keeping her name from you to make you compliment her. She waves her fingers playfully as she turns and disappears off into the party.

…

November

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you were far more invested in your current conversation, but your interest immediately peaked at the mention of someone crying in the bathroom. It couldn’t be… No, You think. It definitely is. You sigh, abandoning your cup on the table as you walk off to find her. You follow the sound of sobs up to a familiar bathroom and sure enough there she is. She’s just crying this time, not throwing up, so you’re deciding to count it as progress. She looks up quickly as you open the door giving you a watery smile. She doesn’t seem all that surprised that you’re here, in fact, she seems like she was rather expecting it. You get the strange feeling that you are running late.

Jackie looks utterly pathetic sitting on the bathroom floor, holding her knees up to her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her bottom lip quivers as she blinks away tears and you're nearly overcome with the desire to hide her away from anyone who could ever hurt her. She has this strange way of inspiring extreme loyalty even in someone whom she hasn’t even graced with her name. 

You sink to the ground next to her, opening your arms wide as she immediately scrambles into your lap. She buries her head in your shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around you as she shakes with sobs. You wrap your arm around her stomach and rub the other hand against her back, cradling her as you try to comfort her the best way you can. You’ve never been particularly good at comforting people, but you and Jackie work well in the sense that she doesn’t seem to expect you to be. She seems pretty content– as content as someone sobbing on a bathroom floor can be– with just having your attention as you murmur your best attempt at comforting words.

You’ve gotten three ‘let it out pretty girl’s, two ‘it’ll be okay gorgeous’s, and a ‘you need to breathe baby’ before Jackie finally manages to get herself together. Jackie sighs against your neck, wiping her eyes off on your shirt. You resist the urge to groan, knowing from experience how hard her mascara was to get out of your clothes. You shiver as Jackie’s cold hand brushes up against the back of your neck as she plays with the edge of your collar. You find it incredibly distracting as she rolls it between her fingers as she says, “You came.”

You shrug. “Heard there was someone crying in the bathroom.”

Jackie hums in acknowledgment as she looks down at the hand wrapped around her stomach. “You keep taking care of me.” She says quietly. “I didn’t think I’d ever have someone to take care of me like that again after…” She looks so incredibly sad, but at the same time, she stares at you with such a large amount of affection that it makes you squirm in discomfort.

“It’s not a bad gig,” You admit. “Out of all the girls that could have been crying all over me at a  party I’m glad it’s you.” She smiles evenly throughout but you can see her eyes narrow slightly at the mention of other girls. You shift nervously underneath her and she whines quietly in protest as she tries to hold you still. You roll your eyes as you lean your head back against the wall, getting the sense that you're going to be here for a while.

“What brought you to the bathroom floor this time?” You ask.

Jackie sends you an amused grin as she asks, “Would you believe I dropped something?” You roll your eyes as you give her an expectant look. She sighs exaggeratedly, as if she hasn’t been impatiently waiting to talk your ear off about whatever’s upset her this entire time. If she’d had the ability to speak while she was crying that hard you're sure she would’ve already told you several times over.

You listen patiently as she speaks, reacting at all the appropriate points. You tilt your head in consideration as you think, feeling strangely proud at how high Jackie seems to hold your opinion as she watches you thoughtfully. “You miss this Shauna girl a lot, don’t you?” You state more than ask. Jackie nods slowly, as if a little embarrassed to admit it. You couldn’t say you approved much of the desire, but you knew Jackie needed to try to mend this relationship for her own sake. There’s only so many times you can find someone sobbing on the floor before it starts to get concerning.

“Do you think you can forgive her?” You ask. Jackie seems to consider this for a long time as she cozies up in your lap. The longer you sit here the more aware you become of just how warm her body feels against yours, regardless of how cold her hands seem to be, and you're more than content to bask in the feeling while Jackie thinks. You can feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathes and it starts to lull you to sleep. You startle as she suddenly speaks, having almost forgotten what you were sitting around for.

“I just want her to say she’s sorry, that’s all.” Jackie’s eyes prickle with tears that you're quick to wipe away, placing an affectionate kiss against the side of her head in an effort to stifle her tears. You really don’t want to do this again tonight. Jackie’s eyes widen as she flushes, burying her head further in your shoulder. You aren’t quite sure what that’s about, but at least she stopped crying.

You sit on the bathroom floor with her sitting pretty in your lap for quite a while, moving on from Shauna as you talk about anything and everything she could think of. You really enjoy spending time with her even as strange as she seems, but you really wish you could start meeting more in other places. Your legs ache something terrible from sitting in that same spot for so long, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world as Jackie prances off happily a few hours later. You groan as you pull yourself to your feet, leaning heavily against the counter as you wait for the feeling to come back. Still, you managed to get at least one thing out of tonight. 

“Jackie.” You say quietly, deciding you quite like the name. Finally getting it out of her was like prying teeth, but you think it really fits her.

…

New Year's Eve

The first time Jackie Taylor had run into you right as you were leaving class you had chalked it up to chance. The two of you had gotten lunch together, leaving you with the realization that she’s still that delightful mixture of strange and kind even when sober. The next four times that Jackie had run into you had left you more and more suspicious, but you didn’t seem to mind as much as you probably should. If you were ever unsure, the look of utter happiness on Jackie’s face when you had run into her outside of her own class would have changed your mind. She’d hung off your arm the entire afternoon, dragging you around to show you all her favorite spots on campus as if they were super niche and underground.

Despite these encounters, you were more than a little surprised when Jackie Taylor had plopped down in the seat across from you in the library– mostly because you weren't aware she knew where the libraries were, let alone what time you’d be there– but the surprise had quickly turned to fondness when she asked where you were going to be for New Years. A combination of Jackie not wanting to stay the whole break with her family and you living off campus has brought you here: leaning against the wall at a dingy frat house as you nurse your drink. 

It wasn’t the best night you’ve ever had, admittedly already starting on a sour note as some guy hit you with a lame question of “What's a pretty thing like you doing here?” in what he obviously believed to be a charming voice before you’d even made your way into the door. You scowled at him but before you could answer Jackie popped up out of nowhere and placed a surprisingly firm hand on your arm as she dragged you far away from him. Jackie happily talked your ear off as she handed you a drink, even if she had kept glaring in his direction. You’d ended up away from the rest of the party, not being able to hear each other well over the music, which left you standing awkwardly by yourself without her.

Jackie had walked off to get another drink a few minutes ago, not that she needed it as drunk as she was already, and you were admittedly concerned with how long it was taking her. You were about to set off to find her when she excitedly wandered back in. “Y/N!” Jackie calls out in surprise when she sees you as if you weren’t exactly where she left you. “I’ve been looking for you!” She smiles so wide it splits her face as she finally finds you.

“You found me.” You say with a grin, unable to stop yourself in the face of her clear exuberance.

“Where’d you go?” She asks in a whiny voice. “I missed you.”

You laugh fondly. Where did I go? “I missed you too.” You say instead. Jackie gasps quietly, looking a little hesitant.

“You did?” She questions, eyes wide. You nod and Jackie looks at you for a moment like you put the stars in the sky. She clears her throat suddenly as she glances away before sending you what you're sure was meant to be a flirty smile. “Of course you did.” Jackie giggles, more self-confident than ever in her inebriation. 

“So, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” Jackie teases. You scoff as you gently push at her shoulder. Jackie looks far too proud of herself at the moment. Two could play at that game.

“Good thing you were there to save me, yeah?” You tease. Jackie flushes slightly at the comment.

“Save you?”

“Oh, yeah. A real knight in shining armor.” You confirm with a wry smile. You suspected Jackie was more jealous than anything, but you appreciated how fast she had gotten you out of there. Even if the idea of having her pay so much attention to you made you a little lightheaded. Jackie preens at the comparison, grinning smugly over at you.

Jackie reaches out to lean against the wall next to you, but clearly misjudges the distance as she crashes face-first into it with a loud thud. She reels back with a pained cry, nearly tripping backward in her haste only to be saved by your quick reflexes as you grab at her arm. She stumbles into you as she gets her feet back under her, one hand covering her nose. “Fudge!” She curses as she pulls her hand away and finds blood.

Fudge? You mouth in surprise. Whatever. You’ve got bigger problems. You quickly pull her by the hand to the kitchen as you go searching for paper towels. You gently hold them up to her face to soak up the blood as you hold her tightly against you in comfort. You can hear her jagged breathing as she tries not to cry, not wanting to risk further irritating her nose. You whisper soothing words in her ear as you try to calm her down.

Jackie's hands clench tightly around the fabric of your shirt, enjoying the proximity despite the reason behind it. She’s long since calmed down before you try to peel away from her. She whines pitifully but doesn’t make a move to stop you, her hand falling limply to her sides. 

Jackie hisses as you pull the paper towel away from her face to inspect the damage. Jackie watches you closely as you carefully turn her face to look at her nose. “It doesn’t look that bad, Jackie,” You say as you pull your hand away. She looks upset at the loss, her bottom lip sticking out slightly in a pout. You consider her for a moment. “Does it still hurt?” 

Jackie pauses in consideration before suddenly whining in pain, nodding insistently. You narrow your eyes, not quite believing it, but you return to fussing over her even as she seems to have a miraculous recovery. After she stops whining about it you take a wet paper towel to her face as you gently wipe the blood away. You're holding on to the side of her face as you turn it side to side as you clean her up. Jackie seems entirely focused on the contact, eyes nervously darting around as her face burns bright red.

You're just pulling the paper towel away from her face as you hear the countdown begin, nearly startling you away as the screaming starts. You’re about to join in the revelry when Jackie lunges forward and kisses you just as the new year begins. Jackie hisses in pain as her nose touches your face but doesn’t pull away for a second. You eagerly reciprocate the kiss despite your surprise at its origins, and have to resist the urge to push forward as she pulls away. 

Jackie smiles nervously at you as she stumbles away. You try to call out for her but she throws a “Sorry, I’m more tired than I thought!” over her shoulder as she rushes out of the kitchen. You're left standing in the middle of the kitchen still holding the bloody paper towel as partygoers scream happily around you.

What the fuck was that?

…

Valentine’s Day.

You didn’t see Jackie for a couple of weeks after classes resumed due entirely to the way she’d turn tail and run every time she saw you so much as looking at her. She’d shown up outside your class one day as if nothing ever happened claiming a family emergency that she’d insist upon no matter how much you grilled her about it. You finally gave up on arguing when she caved and apologized for it, seeming oddly guilty given what she was claiming. You were admittedly very excited when she asked you to go out to a party with her for Valentine’s Day, only to be quickly disappointed when she followed it up with a “As friends, of course!” Whatever. 

She’s gotten progressively drunker as the night goes on, practically hanging off of you as she giggles far too loudly at a joke that you didn’t think was nearly funny enough to warrant that kind of reaction. She’s gotten noticeably flirtier as the night goes on as if every drink she throws back is emboldening her more and more. Despite your concern with how much she’s drinking you find yourself endlessly charmed as she squeezes at your arm and gently makes fun of you, always giving you her full attention. You don’t think she’s looked away from you once in the last hour which would be concerning coming from anyone else but Jackie seems to make it work as always.

“You’re like… really pretty,” Jackie says suddenly, changing the topic as she blinks at you in what you're sure was meant to be a wink. You flush slightly but try to shake it off.

“I think you’re really pretty too, Jackie.” You reassure, smiling softly at her. Jackie groans as she shakes her head.

“No!” She whines, looking frustrated.

“No, you’re not pretty?” You question, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“No, no. I’m pretty,” Jackie says almost immediately, making you laugh. “You’re just so…” She trails off, reaching her hands out to cup the side of your face. You inhale sharply as the motion brings your faces closer together.

“Jackie?” You question softly, remembering how she acted the last time she tried this.

“So pretty…” She murmurs again, “Made me nervous.”

“You’re… You’re not going to run off on me again?” You ask slowly. Jackie shakes her head exaggeratedly fast, looking like she immediately regrets it as she quickly backs up with a hand flying up to her mouth. You jump away from her, terrified of her throwing up on you, but you slowly relax as it seems to be a false alarm. 

Jackie still looks a little nauseous but otherwise no worse for wear. You sigh. You should probably get Jackie home before the night ended in tears. You couldn’t for the life of you figure out why she’d drink so much if she knew she had such a low tolerance for it every time. “Let’s get you home gorgeous.” You say placatingly. Jackie sighs, blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face. She nods as she holds her hand out four you to hold.

You lead her by the hand out of the party, looking at her expectantly as you get to the street. She stares back at you in confusion, happily swinging your joined hands between you. “Where do you live?” You prompt her helpfully. Jackie shrugs. What?

“What’s your dorm?” You ask slowly. She shrugs again.

“Dunno,” Jackie says.

“You don’t know?” You ask with a touch of irritation. Jackie frowns as she makes a big show of thinking about it.

“I don’t remember.” She concludes finally. You look away in frustration, fingers coming up to pinch at the bridge of your nose as you try to calm down. You miss the knowing grin on her face as she quickly stifles it before you turn back.

“You don't remember where you live?” You ask in disbelief. She shakes her head hard enough that she starts to look dizzy, leaning heavily on you as she loses her balance and almost takes the both of you down. You eye her wearily, not sure what you're supposed to do with the drunk girl hanging off of you. Judging by your typical meeting site– holding her hair back as she throws up and sobs her life story to you– you suspect there isn't anyone you could put her off on even if you tried. 

“Do you wanna sleep at mine?” You ask finally, deciding it would be better not to leave her there. 

“Mm,” Jackie murmurs happily as she clings to you. You’re practically holding her up at this point as she doesn't seem to want to stand. She doesn't seem to want to do anything but climb all over you at this point. 

"I'm gonna take that as a yes. Start screaming you're being kidnapped if you disagree." You say playfully, not even sure if she's awake enough to listen to you. You're practically carrying her down the sidewalk to your apartment at this point and you dread to think how it looks to passersby. 

“Noooo.” She whines quietly in your ear, barely loud enough for you to hear it. “Please don't throw me in your dungeon.” You shudder at the hot breath directly against your ear. She doesn't seem to mind though, as she starts resting her head on your shoulder and breathes against your neck. You can admit to being slightly self-conscious as the gorgeous girl hanging off of you stares at your face from 6 inches away. 

She's so strange, You think absentmindedly. You decide that you kind of like it anyway. You make a squeaking noise that you'd later deny as she presses a gentle kiss against your jaw. “Thank you for taking care of me.” She murmurs with a tired grin on her face. Her eyes are barely open as she stares up at you. Her hair is wild and unkempt and she smells suspiciously like vomit, but under the streetlights you think she's never looked prettier. You flush at the thought, looking away from Jackie as you drag her to your apartment. 

You pull her into your bed the second you step into your room, deciding to forgo changing under these conditions. She immediately latches on to you the second you're within grabbing distance. She clings on to you like a child, whining petulantly when you try pulling away. After you stop fighting she starts positioning your limbs where she wants them, ending up with her curled back against your chest with one of your arms and a leg thrown over her. 

You're in the strange position of holding someone against your own will: she holds on to your arm so tightly you're not sure you could get it back without hurting her. She's surprisingly strong for how tiny she is. There's a faint stinging where her fingers are wrapped around your arm, you think she might have drawn blood. You sigh quietly as you decide to just go limp. You've slept in worse places, after all. God was she fucking cold, though.

You're sitting against the edge of your bathtub with Jackie resting her head on your thigh as you gently massage her scalp with your fingertips. She’d immediately woken up hungover, rushing off to be sick as you were left comforting her over it again. Jackie pulls her head back with a groan, looking up at you from her position on the floor. She sits up to move between your spread legs, wrapping her arms tightly around your back as she buries her face into your stomach. She whines against you, prompting you to resume running your fingers through her hair. 

Jackie murmurs a muffled “I’m sorry,” into your stomach, making you shudder at the feeling of her breath. You try to pull her away to look at her but she only digs in more, refusing to let herself be moved from the safety of your body.

“What are you sorry for?” You ask finally, giving up on looking at her.

“Ruined it again.”

You sigh, sliding a hand down to rub comforting circles against the side of her face with your thumb.

“You didn’t ruin it, Jackie.” She scoffs.

“Did too,” She insists.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did no-” You trail off, shaking your head. “What are you, 12 years old?” Jackie giggles as she pulls away, smiling gently up at you from her knees. She looks serious all of a sudden, resting her hands against your knees as she sighs.

“I wanted you to be my valentine,” She admits, “I chickened out asking you.” You grin softly, looking incredibly pleased.

Jackie, upon noticing your reaction, grins back at you as she squeezes your knee affectionately. “Always more confident when I’m drunk,” She says wryly. “Got too drunk again though.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “You could ask again?” You offer.

“Do you want-” She starts.

“Yes,” You interrupt, making her laugh. “Maybe somewhere without alcohol, yeah?” You suggest playfully. Jackie’s face scrunches up as she nods in agreement.

“Never going to drink again,” She mutters, looking a little ill still. You don’t think she’ll hold out on that for too long, but you’ll enjoy making fun of her again when the time comes for it.

The two of you lock eyes for a long moment and Jackie slowly leans up. You shake your head insistently as you press your hand flat against her mouth. “Not until you brush your teeth, Romeo.” You mutter. Jackie whines in protest as she slumps back against her legs. Her eyes narrow as she licks at your hand making you squeak in surprise as you draw your hand back. She looks smug at the action, slowly rising to her feet as she starts to look through your drawers for a spare toothbrush.

At least she knows what she wants.

…

Two Years Later.

“Y/N!” Jackie complains, huffing in annoyance as she drags you stumbling out of the bar. You were more unsteady than you'd thought you'd be, probably owing to the last drink Jackie had warned you not to get. 

Whoops.

“Whoops?” Jackie asks, rolling her eyes. As annoyed as she is she doesn't seem to be actually mad, maybe even a little amused at the situation. You grin widely, tugging her against your side as you throw your arm over her shoulder. 

“Did I say that out loud?” You ask, just a touch too loudly. Jackie laughs softly, leaning against your side as she wraps her arm around your back to guide you home. 

“I told you that you'd had enough.” She says wryly. 

“It tasted good.” You defend weakly, pouting over at her. She hums in consideration, pausing for a moment before she swiftly kisses you. You eagerly begin to reciprocate but she quickly pulls away as she gives you a teasing grin. She slips out of your arm and she makes a big show of licking her lips before nodding decisively. 

“It does taste good,” Jackie confirms as she pulls you by the hand down a side street and up to the gates of your apartment building. You groan in disappointment which just makes her laugh. Her smile lights up her face like it so often does, and you find yourself lost in her eyes. As much of a rush as Jackie has been to get you home she's more than willing to let you admire her, the corner of her lip quirking into a smirk the longer you stare. 

You can't help the rush of excitement that comes over you as Jackie reaches over and tugs you forward by your belt loops. Her hand rests on your hip before it slowly slides into your pocket. Your pocket? 

Jackie pulls away as she holds your keys up, waving them in front of your face before she turns and walks up the stairs. You wait at the bottom dumbfounded for a minute, rushing up the stairs and catching up just as she unlocks the doors. “Not fair.” You complain, holding the door open for her and locking it behind you. 

“No.” Jackie agrees, setting her purse down on the counter. “Fun though.” She adds as she walks off to get changed. 

You cry out happily as she finally walks back out of the bathroom, having already gotten changed and ready for bed. You hold your arms out for her to climb into, but she chooses to ignore them as she walks over and lays on the other side of the bed. You gasp in offense, rolling over to stare at her in disbelief. She feigns a sternness that she isn't actually able to enforce as she shakes her head. “Told you not to get that last drink.” She says, looking away from you in an effort to hide her smile. 

“Jackie Taylor,” You say slowly, having to really think about your words. “Are you… punishing me?”

She shrugs. “Is it working?” She murmurs. 

“On my birthday?”

“I had a surprise for you,” She complains. You snicker as you give her a knowing look. 

“Was it you?” You ask wryly. She scoffs, rolling over to face away from you with her arms crossed over her chest. You'd worry she was actually mad if you couldn't see the blush on the only visible part of her face. 

“Don't be like that, gorgeous,” You say, pulling gently against her shoulder. She lets you pull her on her back, still refusing to look at you. She huffs loudly, just in case you'd forgotten she was annoyed. “Give me my present in the morning, yeah? I'm sorry I got too drunk for it,” You say placatingly. 

Jackie uncrosses her arms, letting them fall limply to her sides. Still, she makes no move to get any closer. “Come to bed?” You whine, tugging gently against her arm. 

“I'm in bed, ” She teases, giving you a smug look. 

You smirk slightly as you playfully lean up to press a wet open-mouthed kiss against Jackie’s jaw, falling back against the bed giggling when she exclaims in disgust and jerks her face away. She gives you what she obviously considers to be a warning look but does next to nothing to deter you as you shift up to your elbows, intent on planting another one. She makes a whiny noise in protest as she gently pushes your face away from her. She pouts over at you and you grin softly as you roll on your side to face her. You reach a hand out and squish her cheeks together, making her lips bulge out exaggeratedly. She slaps your hands away with a groan, giving you an exasperated look. “No.” She whispers, trying to be firm but still giggling as she points a stern finger at you.

Jackie cries out in shock as you gently bite at her finger, trapping it between your teeth. She watches in disbelief as she tries and fails to get her finger out. “Please?” She asks finally, giving up on fighting you. You release her immediately, grinning far too wide as you climb on top of her and hug her tightly. She makes an irritated noise as your weight presses her into the bed, but reaches up to massage your scalp with her fingertips as you yawn into her neck. You shift on top of her as you find a comfortable position, more than happy to let her gentle motions soothe you to sleep.

…

5 Years Later.

You ignored the banging on the door to your hotel room at first, figuring some drunk couple had the wrong room, but the longer it went on unimpeded the more concerned you got. Finally, after the thought of Jackie being hurt crossed your mind, you shot up to go answer the door. Your eyes widen in surprise at the sight of Jackie, hand flying up to cover your eyes. “Jackie!” You cry out in shock, feeling an equal measure of shock and pleasure at her arrival. “Thought it was bad luck to see the bridge the night before the wedding.” You chide gently.

“You don’t believe in that,” Jackie accuses gently, a mixture of drunk and exuberant. You shrug, still holding your hand over your eyes.

“You do,” You say, entirely unsure why she’s here with you instead of at her bachelorette party. You’d had your party a few days before, choosing not to risk the hangover. Jackie, on the other hand, always loved to live on the edge. You smile fondly at the thought. Jackie makes a pleased noise, hands reaching up to tug your hand away from your face.

“Look at me,” Jackie pleads, smiling brightly at you. She pushes gently against your shoulders as she walks into the room, the door swinging swiftly shut behind her, walking you backward until the back of your knees hit the bed. You fall backward in surprise, taking a giggling Jackie with you as she falls on top. You grunt at the sudden weight, but that does nothing to stop Jackie from moving up to her knees to straddle you, grinning smugly down at you.

You can tell from the glassy look in her eyes that she had a few too many tonight, making you roll your eyes. She pouts at the reaction, hands coming down to cup the sides of your face. You shiver slightly at the coldness of her ring against your face, but you enjoy the reminder of her place in your life. Your fiance, and tomorrow your wife. You can’t help the way your smile lights up your face as you stare up at her, the love of your life who broke her own silly superstitions because she missed you.

You rest your hands against her hips, shifting her into a more comfortable position as you ask “What’re you doing here?”

“Don’t you want to see me?” Jackie whines, looking seriously put out. You laugh gently as you squeeze at her hip.

“You know that. Staying apart was your idea, gorgeous.”

“I’m drunk,” Jackie informs you.

“No. Say it isn’t so.” You say dramatically, feigning shock. Jackie nods seriously as if she truly believes it to be novel information.

“You always take care of me when I’m drunk,” Jackie confesses, a look of affection suddenly coming over her face. She leans down and presses a kiss against your hairline, lingering far longer than she needs to. “You’ll take care of me, won’t you?”

You choke up slightly as you say “Always Jackie. I promise.” Jackie frowns at the sight of your tears, quickly wiping them away. You clear your throat awkwardly, leaning up to kiss her as a form of distraction. Jackie grins happily when you pull away, but she’s still watching you a little closer than you’d like as you gently coax her to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Your wife always took care of you too, in her own little ways.

[zaiisaii]

If i may ask, what would you do to daniel In the midst of pleasure?.

I think he will be a pretty crier as you take his virginity.

LOOKISM

⋆ — crybaby .ᐟ ﹙daniel park﹚ .

warning:: gender neu. reader , sub character & nsfw .

bully him :D

daniel is definitely a crybaby.

he's never felt something so good before, he's never been held like fragile glass, and he's never been touched in these places.

everything is heightened now that someone else is touching him. when it was himself, it felt plain but now... he feels like he's about to go crazy.

i don't doubt he starts to tear up when you undress him, slowly kissing his exposed body. maybe it's his emotions catching up, maybe he just feels so vulnerable yet comforted at the same time he isn't so sure how to handle it in any other form.

he always squirms away and cries when you lick up the beads of come dripping down his cock. his hands grasping the sheets for support.

with his two bodies, you can explore many things. his original body is much more sensitive, but he tries to keep up with you. his skin is softer and it makes you want to just have your hands roam all over him.

i would think he would want to save that body for marriage though.

and his second body is more flexible than his original. he can take a lot of things, though, of course, he, himself can not. his mind just makes everything feel ten times more enjoyable.

while it may appear as a gentle kiss to his tear-stained cheek, to daniel, it feels like a rocket has just exploded in his stomach.

to go back to your original question. what would i do if danny feels so much pleasure? well, i'd bully him.

his expression and movements are just so cute, anyone would love to see all the different faces he makes.

taking his virginity really helps with it. it means he trusts you, with all his heart and soul. i think it would be fun to see him stumbling over his words — "w-wait- ah, please don't stop! please please please!"

his voice goes in a higher pitch than usual, back arching into you and his eyes rolling into the back of his head when you finally kiss his lips.

he gets so shy too.

"we're literally having sex and you're too shy to kiss me?"

danny nods hesitantly, a blushing face hidden behind his shaky palms. he only gives in when he's on the verge of coming.

tears stream down his face as sobs run throughout his entire body. someone passing by from outside of his house might even think he was hurt!

he's pretty even when he cries.

his throat is so sore from all his wailing but that doesn't stop him from calling your name out for the whole world to know.

"aw, so cute," you coo to him, this only makes him feel more vulnerable. he feels like he's being mock but he's so turned on by it. "you look so dumb, can you even hear me?"

daniel whines and shakes his head 'no'. it's semi-true. your voice sounds like an echo in his head, he has to repeat your words to himself before answering.

you laugh at him causing his hips to rock back and forth to get more friction from you. he earns another coo, "my sweet, sweet boy."

daniel moans weakly. your press your lips against his, catching all his pretty little gasps. he doesn't even know how to kiss with his tongue yet so every time your tongue meets his, he's shaking and crying even more.

he's such a huge crybaby and its the cutest thing ever.

so sorry if this isn't up to your standards, i got caught off track 😭

[insomniacirl]

JRWI Riptide episode 115 spoilers !!

I have so many thoughts about this episode dear lord.

HOLY FUCK THE FIRST HOUR OF THIS EPISODE WAS INSANE??? LIKE, INSANE INSANE. ISTG MAN- I COULD NOT. I CANNOT.

Jay being the 'child of the sun' WAS SO FUCKING REAL MAN.

Finding out about Lizzie was actually heart-stopping

CHIP WITH THE "We can't leave her-" VOICE BREAKING, ON THE VERGE OF TEARS- STUCK BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE- GOING BACK TO SAVE HIS SISTER OR CONTINUE FORWARDS FOR HIS FATHER BECAUSE HE CAN NEVER COME BACK??? OH MY DAYS MAN.

Chip leaving the room and Gillion following out after him- the conversation that follows- Jay and the rest of the crew being left in this horrible silence after they leave- I can't.

Gillion with the, "Chip, it's not your fault." (Dead. Dead on the ground. No survivors.)

Chip's 'how did you know I was gonna go off alone?' and Gillion's 'I know you.' (Violent sobbing)

GILLION AND JAY DISCUSSING WAR TACTICS- SOBBING. OH MY LOVES- I SWEAR TO THE LORD ABOVE. I WOULD DIE FOR THEM NO WORD OF A LIE.

Gillion telling Chip to let him and Jay handle it, telling him to try and get some rest; Jay and Gillion talking about how to split their crew, Gillion explaining that he was trained for this. As a soldier. Knowing that this is the worst situation they could've been put in- because he's been the one to put people in the same one before. Jay admitting (as much as she hates to) that she knows. She already knows as much. Because she too was trained for the same exact situation. She doesn't want to admit to herself that she knows what's coming- she knows the odds aren't in their favour- she knows that she might not be able to save them- but she has to try. She just wishes she didn't understand what's going to happen.

LITERALLY MY FAVOURITE LINE FROM LIKE- THE ENTIRE EPISODE- GILLION AND JAY. AFTER DISCUSSING WAR TACTICS. AFTER COMPROMISING ON JAY'S LEAVING- TO SAVE CHIP'S SISTER- TO SAVE THEIR FRIENDS. GILLION. GILLION TALKING ABOUT THE IDEA OF A DISTRACTION METHOD. SOMETHING SO STUPIDLY BIG THAT THE NAVY HAVE TO COME AND DEAL WITH IT. GILLION. AND JAY. AND THE PARTING OF WAYS.

"Go set some fires, demigod."

GILLION TIDESTRIDER. CHARLIE SLIMECICLE. THE MAN THAT YOU ARE. THE CHARACTER THAT YOU ARE.

JAY FERIN. CONDI CONDIFICTION. HELLO? HELLO??? FUCKING CHILD OF THE SUN. HOLY SHIT THAT GOES SO HARD. HER EYE GLOWING AS SHE READS WHAT NO ONE ELSE CAN? GOING ON ALONE WITHOUT HER TWO BEST-FRIENDS TO FIGHT AGAINST HER BLOOD FAMILY. AGAINST THE ARMY SHE GREW UP FIGHTING TO LEAD.

I merely cannot.

Chip and Jay's tearful goodbyes- the most sibling coded to ever sibling ever.

"I love you Jay."

"I love you Chip."

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- CAN YOU HEAR ME RETCHING? CAN YOU HEAR ME PEELING THE SKIN OFF OF MY BONES? I'M LIKE GILLION TIDESTRIDER EPISODE 114 HAHAHAHAHAH. HELP ME. PLEASE. THEY MAKE ME INSANE. THEY MAKE ME ILL.

AND THEN CHIP HITTING US WITH WHAT IS PROBABLY MY SECOND FAVOURITE LINE OF THE EPISODE. CHIP AND JAY FERIN. THEIR PARTING OF WAYS.

"Better get moving, Sureshot."

WRAHHHHHHHHHH- CHIP.

I could go on about them forever. We don't talk about like- anything that happens after Jay leaves- we do not mention... the book.

BUT THEN.

Gillion casting deathward on Chip (an undead man who can technically never die again). I'm insane???

The two of them almost instantly dying without Jay LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Gillion arm wrestling a literal titan sized- giant of an enemy.

Chip. That's it. Just Chip 😭

Gillion almost 360 spin-kicking the guy's head off and Grizzly being like, 'He's not a bad guy btw' AND CHARLIE SPITTAKING I WAS PISSING MYSELF THAT WAS SO GODDAMN FUNNY.

THE HOLE IN THE SEA? THEM ENTERING THE WHIRLPOOL? CHIP AND GILLION WAKING UP TOGETHER AND FINDING GRIFFIN? THE DARK WATER CEILING? THE BLACK SAND GILLION AND JAY SAW?

I'M INSANE PT1029381929138102948831201291209???

[promise-you-doie]

Sweet misery | Mark lee

Mark x reader (established relationship)

around 900 words

Angst if your weak, teeny bit suggestive, toxic relationship.

not proofread

A/n: it was originally inspired by misbehave - monsta x but i think it’s kinda more sweet misery - shinee coded.

My first nct fanfic yay~

It’s midnight, 1:22 am to be exact.

The wind is flooding in through the window, brushing past the exposed skin of your leg. You’d spent so long crying that you couldn’t get another tear out even if you wanted to. Now your head is just throbbing and it’s hard to tell if it's because of the sobbing you’d just done or if it’s because of all the alcohol you consumed. It might have been both.

It’s 1:22 in the morning and your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. No calls, no text, nothing. Lord knows where he could be, he could be cheating or maybe he’s over at a friend's, he might be at a bar or he might be working late. It’s left to your imagination because he hasn’t told you anything. You doubt he will, he’ll probably sneak in like he always does when he’s sure you're fast asleep. And wake up in the morning as if everything’s fine.

Now what’s worse? The fact that you allow him to do it every time, scotch free and pretend that it doesn’t bother you? Or the fact that you stay up every night with tears dried to your face waiting for him to come back?

Neither.

It’s the fact that you’ve stayed up all of those nights telling yourself that it was gonna be the last. The last time you allow yourself to be treated like this.

Your heart skips a beat when you hear the doorknob turn. You’re not sure if you should hide or pretend to be asleep. Your muscles make that decision for you when you stand up, both of your feet planted on the floor. Your breath hitched and your eyes wide open, gazing at the boy who walks in front of you.

“Oh man, you’re awake?” He unintentionally stomps into your shared apartment. You try to read him but you can’t. He’s walking and talking perfectly fine, so you know he’s not intoxicated. His hair is somewhat neat or better yet not messy. And his clothes look almost the exact same way as he walked out this morning. So maybe he’s not cheating.

“Where were you?” you mumble barely enough for him to hear you.

“I was with Johnny.”

“What about last night? and the night before that?” You’re on the verge of tears. He hadn’t even answered the question yet but you’re already recoiling. And he sees it.

“Are you crying?” He reaches for your cheeks to dry your tears, not even acknowledging your question. Half of you appreciates that much, you were already crying, you don't know how you’ll react once he tells you the truth.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, relishing the way his hands feel. They’re kind of rough and bruised but it doesn’t bother you at all since this is the most he’s touched you in probably a month.

“I was giving you some space. Like you asked.” He almost whispers. Your eyes flutter open and meet his immediately, that’s how you know he’s being honest. You know he is but you’re still doubtful.

You asked for space and some time to think. Now that he was giving it to you, you felt neglected.

“Doesn’t it bother you that we can only talk to each other when we’re arguing?” You think aloud. Watching the way his face contorts into confusion.

“All of our conversations end with ‘I hate you’ and we never fail to throw things at each other,” you add

“What are you trying to say?”

“We’re a mess, Mark.”

“Okay, and that’s why we’re together. I’d rather fight with you than with anyone else.” He kneels down in front of you when you plop down on the couch. Tears welling in his eyes, he blinks them back and grabs onto your hand so you know how sincere he is.

“I need you, Y/n. I really do, I don’t think you understand that.”

“This can’t be healthy.” You say, looking off to the side so you don’t have to face him. That way you won’t feel as bad for what it is you’re about to say.

“We’re not perfect, but name one person who is? We’re gonna argue then we’re gonna make up and argue again. But my love for you is never gonna fade.” Mark never let go of your hand.

“I think we should break up.” You whisper, eyes closed and fresh warm tears streaming down your cheeks.

“What do you want? I’ll do anything, anything you want anything but that. Baby please.” His tears match yours, his grip on your hand is tighter now and you feel like you should’ve just pretended to be asleep.

“This isn’t working, this can’t be what love is supposed to feel like. We should just-“ Mark shushes you with a kiss. It was his way of avoiding topics he didn’t wanna talk about.

Conversations like this always ended with the both of you tangled in sheets, muttering a bunch of “I love you’s” and “I’m sorry.” You’ll make a promise to never talk about splitting up again and he’ll promise to never give you a reason. But ultimately you both fall through on your promises.

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 1 | That Day

It would’ve been the perfect day to rain. The divorce was finalized. The house and everything in it were divided up accordingly, but only two boxes of an entire life together had been cracked open. The rest were still taped and shoved in every free space available. 

Seven years. It had only been seven years. Well… they don’t call it the seven year itch for nothing, but why did it have to be her? 

Amanda Silverstein sat on the edge of the hard plastic bench just beside the playground in the neighborhood she moved into just one month ago. 

The sun shone brightly on the metallic structure that made up the playground. The swings drifted back and forth in the light breeze that didn’t reach the clouds high above. It looked abandoned, but school was in session, so no kids were present yet. 

In a perfect world, Amanda could have seen her children playing on a playground like this. The house her and her now ex-husband had was next to a lovely playground.

All of these hopes and dreams were now dry and fading like the link signature on the divorce papers sitting on her kitchen table. 

They weren’t, however, dry like her eyes. Amanda hadn’t stopped the slow stream of leaking tears since she went on her walk. The warmth of the sun couldn’t penetrate the barrier of numb sorrow strangling her heart. Every moment, she wondered what she could’ve done differently. Could she have spoken softer? Was it the hours she worked? Her desire for kids? What chased him away? Or was it inevitable? Were there too many differences in the first place? Was there anything she could’ve done? 

Amanda hung her head and laced her fingers through her hair by her scalp. Deep breath after deep breath, she was managing to keep herself from succumbing to the nausea plaguing her. Head throbbing, she leaned back and stared at the cloudless sky. 

It was only now that she realized she wasn’t shuddering with every breath. She filled her lungs and exhaled the first calm breath she had taken in hours. 

What was she going to do now? Work, obviously; but what else? The possibilities were endless, and the vastness was all consuming. 

It was too much…

And…

Really…

What she was actually asking herself was what was she going to do without him. 

Was it even worth it? 

Chest clenching in the familiar aching throb, Amanda felt on the verge of another round of sobs when she heard something. 

It was a soft sob, and it didn’t come from her. It was a sniffling sob that sounded close, but a quick glance around revealed no one. 

Amanda composed herself and wiped her palm against her cheek, smearing what little makeup she placed on her eyes. 

“Hello?” she called. The little sob was close, but no one was around her. 

More importantly, the sob sounded like it was… under… the bench. 

Amanda swallowed dryly and dared her curious side to peer under the bench as she heard another impossibly soft cry. There was no way something was there, right? 

She pulled her skirt to the side and looked, heart skipping every other beat in her chest as she did. 

Naturally, nothing seemed to be under there… at first. 

Then, after a moment of staring intensely and unblinking at the same spot while allowing her eyes to unfocus, she saw some of the tall blades of grass twitch. Amanda held her breath. Did she just see that? 

She focused on the same spot and, once again, saw the tall blades of grass twitch and something pull closer to the pole. Mortified, Amanda pulled her whole body up onto the bench, fearing it might be an injured creature like a mouse. 

But… how could it be a mouse? It was a light sandy brown and was too round for a mouse. 

Perhaps it was one of those crying dolls that a child lost earlier on the playground? 

Amanda dared herself again to peer over the edge and, with the utmost care, pulled the blades of grass out of her field of vision. 

Almost instantly stunned, she found herself locking eyes with the smallest boy she had ever seen in her life. Soft brown eyes and gaunt features, a boy no bigger than Amanda’s thumb was huddled next to the metallic part of the pole that supported the bench. 

Upon seeing Amanda, the child scurried away to the other side of the pole, peering out only a little to reveal his fear filled eyes. 

Amanda felt like she was about to faint. Stunned beyond words didn’t cover the rush of emotions she experienced. Completely flabbergasted, Amanda could only stare at the boy, jaw slack with surprise. 

Was he real? 

Was he a hallucination? 

Was this some kind of manifested stress creature because of everything she was going through recently? 

She found herself muttering, “Hey there,” before she could stop herself. The boy, who looked thin and filthy, whimpered, and retreated back behind the pole once again, and he didn’t reappear despite Amanda being able to hear him. 

Amanda’s anxiety from her own predicament was immediately replaced by questions and concern about this child. 

Was he alone? 

Was he real? 

Where were his parents? 

He looked human enough, but he couldn’t be human if he were that small, right? 

What should she do? Should she call the police? Or was he more like an animal and, if she touched him, he would be rejected by his family. 

What should she do? 

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

[tojigasm]

somewhere saw the prompt “ure too pretty to cry bad tears” and dilf!jake has rotted my brain.. the mental illness is real

this is so Lana Del Rey (here's part 2)

It's when you confess. When you pour your heart and soul into sobs and tears that seem to swallow you whole as he holds you.

The rough of his hand against your back, cupping you to his chest in such a fashion it does little to soothe you, pulling hoarse cries and broken sobs from your raw throat.

You're not sure what you expected, not when you'd decided on a whim to confess your deep felt adoration for the older na'vi. Something you'd kept hidden away in your flushed grins and giggles, and the way your stomach flipped when he'd come around.

You suppose it was rather naive, rather unrealistic for you to assume he'd felt the same way. Yet, a part of you held onto the hope that he did, even if he'd pretended for a sliver of that moment when he only stared down at you, brows furrowing.

And you hated it. Hated the way you knew what was coming, knew by the sad smile and the deep furrow of his brows that he didn't feel the same. That, and a part of you always knew, you'd just be the girl who he'd seen his daughter in, nothing more and nothing less.

"I know, sweetheart." he speaks into your hair, kissing your temple, "I know." but he doesn't understand, and it only urges you to cry harder into his chest, humiliated and heartbroken yet you can't find the strength to pull away from his warm comfort, though in the end you know it will never be the same. He'll never look at you the same, the relationship will never be the same, and eventually you'll part, and you might not even see him again after that. And that terrifies you, but all you can do is cry.

You're blubbering into his shoulder, small hands digging crescents into his azure skin. "M'sorry-" you try, voice cracking through with another rough sob.

Jake only soothes a hand over your head, "it's okay." and his voice is so soft, and you can hear the sadness and mirrored hurt in the way he tucks you under his chin, rocking you gently.

He holds you like that for a long while, letting you settle and play with his tail as you calm. Still sniffling and on the verge of breaking down once more. And he can hear it, much like Tuk cries right after falling; surprised and scared. But he doesn't know how to comfort you anymore, doesn't know how to look at you without confusing you.

Jake drags a hand down your back softly and you crack again, crying into your arms in his lap. "C'mon, sweetheart, y'gotta calm down," he links your hand with his, drawing circles with the pad of his thumb over your soft skin. "You're too pretty to be cryin' this much over an old man like me," he chuckles softly.

you pull out of his lap, sobbing when you meet his face, "you don't understand!" you nearly shriek, an immature sobbing fit yet amid your tears you hope he hears you. or that maybe the way it comes out is somehow different this time, and maybe he likes you back.

"Honey-" Jake tries, watching you stand on wobbly legs, wiping at your nose as you pant. His eyes harden and you know you've done it. It's the look he gives hsi kids when they misbheave; his ears faltten some and his voice deepens," You're just a kid."

He doesn't wait for you to respond, instead, he moves to his feet, making his way to stand beside you. When you don't look at him, he grabs at your chin, turning your head upwards to meet his amber eyes, "Go home."

[beanghostprincess]

*holds you by shoulders*

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE THING ABOUT 1082 I WAS SURE IT WAS SHIPPY THING AND NOW I NEED TO KNOW

*starts sobbing while slowly falling to my knees*

…….please

I SAW THIS YESTERDAY NIGHT WHEN I WAS ABOUT TO FALL ASLEEP AND I JUST WOKE UP EARLY TO REPLY BECAUSE I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR AGES FOR THIS QUESTION I AM GOING TO KISS YOU ANON-

I do love and adore the shippy part of 1082 because I am a very intense Shuggy shipper and I had been waiting to read their break-up for sooo long. But it's not exactly what made the chapter life-changing for me, tbh.

Buggy's speech is... Is incredibly beautiful and encouraging. It explains so much about his character, the dynamic he has with Cross Guild, and why he's so resentful toward Shanks. Throughout the manga, we've seen him in serious moments, yes, but usually, Buggy is pretty much used for comedy relief more than anything. This is one of the first times we've seen Buggy realize the position he has now and say "Fuck it. Already on the verge of dead for these two, might as well do something with this shitty situation because for once, I have the opportunity to be brave and be more than what people think of me". There's literally nothing stopping him right now, and he prefers to risk his life enraging Crocodile and Mihawk than letting this opportunity of showing who he truly is slide.

And tbh, we haven't seen them ever since (I am starving please-) but I am really hopeful his speech somehow makes Crocodile and Mihawk have a little tiny itty bitty of respect for him at least. Because out of the three? Buggy is the one who deserves the title of pirate more.

Mihawk and Crocodile don't have dreams or ambitions and see pirating as a business. Even when Crocodile did have ambitions (remember when the silly rubber guy destroyed all of his dreams that was a funny arc haha) his whole personality has always been more of a mafioso than anything. Mihawk is a simple man and is bored with life being at the top of the top, he clearly wants something interesting to happen but doesn't see any use in looking for it himself. They care about their commodities and wealth. But out of the three, Buggy is the one who had to give up on his dream and now he has the opportunity to fulfill it.

"How can you call yourselves pirates with schemes like that?! You're doing it all backwards!! [...] Way back when... What did you guys want to be?! [...] I wanna be king of the pirates!! Wealth? Power? Why stop there when we can have it all?!"

This is something a real pirate would say. He talks like Roger here, I am going to curl up and cry don't look at me-

What I like about One Piece is the constant use of themes like dreams and freedom etc, etc... That's something we all know. But you wouldn't expect it coming from Buggy, of all people. And I think I'm pretty fond of him being brave and finally acting upon what he truly wants to do. What makes it great is that you have this comedy relief character standing up for his dream in front of clearly two other antagonists that have control over him in, well, strength and everything. But Buggy has something they don't and it's so, so much ambition and a dream that could be considered childish but it's the representation of freedom and doing things because you want to follow your heart. This is kind of why I always say Luffy would be more fond of Buggy if he knew the whole story and would probably support him a lot--

What I like the most about this chapter is both Buggy's character development through a speech + flashback and Mihawk and Crocodile being completely stunned by it because they weren't expecting this to happen from Buggy of all people. I know I sound like a broken record but I really, really, want them to respect Buggy a little bit more after this. Also, Buggy doesn't do this only to announce he's going to follow his dream now that he's on equal footing with Shanks. He does it because the other two mention needing overwhelming power over the rest. Buggy isn't stupid and knows how manipulating people works. The thing that makes pirates work harder isn't money, it's a dream. And there's nothing a pirate desires more than the One Piece, so that's kind of why he announces it publicly. First, to establish power, and second, so that way Mihawk and Crocodile don't get rid of him because seriously, Buggy is a better boss than these two because their followers appreciate him and don't feel forced to follow him.

Not to mention that the whole thing also shows more of Buggy's relationship with Roger and how left out he felt because people thought highly of Shanks instead of him. But Buggy, even if he was jealous, was willing to follow Shanks despite his feelings because he accepted being less worthy of respect than him. Shanks shone brightly and Buggy decided that, even if he wanted to be seen like that too, he'd give up on his dream and support Shanks instead because at least they'd do this together, just the way they did everything back at the time.

But then Shanks hesitates, and I think that's Buggy's last straw because he sees giving up going for the One Piece as something disrespectful to their captain (dad) and thinks it's unfair that Shanks is so respected by everyone even though the one wanting to follow their captain's steps right away is him. It's honestly frustrating. And then you understand better why Buggy is angry at Shanks-- Yeah, he made him eat the devil fruit and lost the map because of him (not really but whatever), but the way I see it that's just a metaphor for the real reason why Buggy is so resentful. Shanks' existence, even if it was not on purpose, made Buggy feel so powerless he gave up on his dream. And eating a devil fruit means the sea hates you and you can't have any independence in the pirate world, and losing the map is kind of like losing the only thing that guides you. He left Buggy with nothing and let him carry the burden of a lost dream.

This is funny because Shanks did absolutely nothing wrong and everything is a product of jealousy and miscommunication, but I understand why Buggy blames Shanks and this chapter makes it clearer and explains it perfectly.

Basically, it's such an amazing chapter for Buggy's character and it's definitely my favorite for him specifically. Although the flashback does wonders for my Shuggy heart.

Also, adding more points for the revolutionary plot in the end and Sabo showing up because I adore him <3