#on that note goodnight 💕💕💕

[thorniest-rose]

Eddie jerks off so much fantasising about being trapped between Steve Harrington's thick freckled jock thighs he sprains his wrist and Wayne has to drive him to the hospital.

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: Spin-off

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. Update: Sylus went ahead and got himself mortalized (That's it, that's the plot). Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, slight crack (literally. lmao, you’ll see), FLUFF! A/N: Finally starting the spin-off! Hello again 🙂‍↕️🫶🏼 I’ve got a rough outline for the flow and a few key chapters mapped out, but I’m keeping it flexible for the most part. This isn’t gonna be a full structured story, so think more like vignettes of their life, w/ some world-building here and there (laying some groundwork for future chapters hehe). Come thru if you wanna see what error!Sylus and our lil player are up to post-reality jump 🙂‍↕️🙏🏼 Also: no posting schedule! I’m treating this like a chill side project I can pick up whenever, so not every part’s gonna be lengthy/that polished hehe. Mostly short snippets, unless the chapter calls for a longer one. (P.S. Just send a DM if you want to be taken off the taglist lol. I just assumed you guys would still want to follow along, but no pressure at all if you don’t! 💕)

(main series) - Pt. 1 - Pt. 2

You keep waiting to wake up.

For the sound of your phone alarm to blare somewhere beneath the covers, forcing you to fish it out at seven-thirty-something in the morning. For this absolutely wonderful, absolute mindfuck of a dream, to end—and for the real world to set in. 

For another uneventful day to begin, the way it usually does after a short reprieve from the hustle and the bustle of life.

From behind the bathroom door, the sound of the shower cuts off.

You scramble to open the cupboard overhead, grabbing the pepper shaker from the first shelf. You do four rotations over the half-cooked omelette before flipping it over with a rubber spatula, trying not to lose your cool. Or what’s left of it.

Three days. It’s been three days since it dawned on you that Sylus has actually managed to cross the threshold – through a tiny, impossible fissure in the fabric of reality – just to get to this dimension. Your dimension.

Three days since you locked eyes with the other half of your soul from across a room, no screen separating the two of you for once. No physical barrier to stop him from catching you as you ran toward him past the counter, just as twilight kissed the sky goodnight, sobbing at the first touch of his skin—electric against yours. The taste of his lips, the bittersweet notes of extant longing and pure bliss blooming on your tongue as he captured your mouth in his; the two of you lost in each other, uncaring of anything beyond that precious, shared moment. 

And three days for your mind to finally catch up to the sheer impossibility of it all.

As far as your Sundays go, you’d say this one takes the cake.

He’s been staying in a modest little rental just a couple of blocks away from you. Nothing extravagant – just a transient house he’s leased for the week. Not that you’ve technically been inside to know; he only pointed it out once, the single-storey residential from across the main street, as the two of you were heading back home—your home. To your little studio apartment.

Him. Sylus. In your condo. You can’t even begin to wrap your head around it.

You know that he’d just arrived in town two days before that fateful encounter at the bistro. That he’d already done his research to know exactly where you were going to be during that hour, and that he’s been here, on Earth, for quite some time now. Even before meeting you.

But past this knowledge, you haven’t actually covered much of anything, really. Just this little awkward dancing around you’ve been doing since you’ve been together.

And you know you should ask, probe, have him break down the hows of his existence to you, a clearer timeline of exactly when he popped into this world, what he’s been up to in all the time he’s been here… and why he’s even waited so long to come to you directly.

You’re painfully aware that it’s just you who’s keeping yourself from getting the answers you want. You’re the one making this harder than it needs to be. You can’t help it.

There’s no manual to tell you how to deal with your emotions when your virtual lover appears in front of you, in the flesh, miraculously defying all laws of physics in the process. No handbook telling you what to do next when something you’ve been wishing for every night before going to bed – for the past two years – actually manifests into being. 

Someone you’ve always longed for, staked deep within the confines of your heart, but never truly imagined the consequences of until your wishful thinking bled into reality.

And now he’s here.

All things considered, you think you’ve done an okay job at acting like everything’s normal. Mostly. Probably.

(You haven’t.)

The day after he showed up at your proverbial doorstep, you almost couldn’t believe everything that had transpired a mere twenty hours ago was even real. That maybe your brain had just gotten creative enough to invent a Hallmark-worthy scene to win you a one-way trip to your therapist—and that, maybe, you’d conjured him up simply because you missed him and you’re so down bad, your mind decided to start playing tricks on you.

...which nearly had your soul catapulting out of your body at the sight of the—extremely corporeal, extremely attractive—raven-haired (!) man moving through your kitchen the first morning he stayed over, wearing a black V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants, ambling barefoot like he already knew the place by heart.

You suppose he does, you allow cautiously, an odd sort of warmth blooming in your chest at the thought. Of course he would. 

Still. It didn’t erase the surrealness of seeing Sylus, the Sylus—mortal, perfect, wonderfully alive—brewing you a cup of coffee at nine in the morning, your brain failing to fully comprehend the image of his towering figure working your faulty, secondhand De’Longhi like a pro.

"Are you," he started, eyes zooming in on the spot between your thumb and forefinger, mouth twitching like he's trying not to laugh, "pinching yourself?"

You had quickly withdrawn your hand, schooling your face into a poor attempt at nonchalance as you reached for the steaming blue mug he was holding out to you. "...No."

You can't help but hover around him, like some weird satellite desperate for orbit. You find yourself sneaking glances every five seconds—and more often than not, he meets your gaze with a wayward look of his own.

He never calls you out on it; he just gives you an infuriatingly impish smirk that sends your heart into overdrive, making you feel younger than you are. 

You’re still stewing over the events of the past few days, absentmindedly worrying whether the eggs needed more salt, when you hear the bathroom door open.

You whip your head around, and all systems crash to a stop.

Oh god. Oh fuck. 

He’s standing there—all six-foot-five of pure, lean muscle, like sin sculpted out of marble and left to walk your unvacuumed parquet wood floor without so much as a care for the cluttered little living space he’s in, looking completely at ease. Fresh from the shower, steam rising lazily from every inch of bare skin laid out in front of you, and it’s like The Neuron™ in your brain activates. The towel slung low across his hips leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, reducing your thoughts monosyllabic, like some half-evolved primate ready for mating season or whatever. Hot man. Hot man shirtless. Involuntarily, your eyes track a stray rivulet sliding down; right where the faintest suggestion of a happy trail (!!!) begins and ends… and you’re gone. Lost in some kind of trance. 

Utterly hypnotised, you watch as it soaks into the edge of the borrowed sage green terry cotton, faintly wondering if what’s beneath it could soak you the same way, shit—

A strangled noise slips past your lips. 

It’s terrible. You sound like a dying cow. Hot man’s fault. Bad.  

A snort breaks you out of your shameless ogling. 

Your head jerks up like you’ve been caught red-handed doing something you're not supposed to, guiltily meeting his eyes. You see Sylus already watching you wryly, the heavy drag of his half-lidded stare rooting you in place. 

Your face starts to flush red with embarrassment, heat climbing all the way up to your ears. 

He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe; arms crossed loosely over his chest, completely relaxed, and clearly getting a kick out of whatever expression you’ve got at the moment. His gaze doesn't waver, stuck on you like glue, drinking in every flustered reaction with quiet amusement. 

You swallow nervously. His eyes flicker down, tracing the movement of your throat, and his lips tug up into a semblance of a smile.

Fuuuuck.

"You already started on breakfast without me, sweetie?" He tuts in mock-disapproval. "I told you it’d take me less than twenty minutes to shower."

You don’t manage much in response, just a dumb, garbled, "mhm, s’okay."

You're completely blanked out at this point—bluescreen dead if you will—except for one panicked thought flashing through your brain: Holy shit, he's practically naked. Sylus Qin from Love and Deepspace is practically naked in my house. 

Then, not long after, a chorus of, “oh my god oh my god oh my god” starts looping in your head, overriding what little composure you had left like some raunchy PSA warning you about the dangerous rise of moisture down south.  

Sylus cocks his head slightly, sending you a sly, knowing look—one that says he knows exactly what's going on in that overstimulated little brain of yours.

Slowly, he pushes himself off and saunters closer to where you are, taking his time crossing the distance with easy, measured steps. As if he’s in no rush at all to get to you. As if he’s merely curious whether you’ll combust just from him shortening the proximity between your bodies. 

(You think you just might.)

And when he’s standing barely a few inches away – close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him – Sylus leans down, effectively trapping you between the counter and the solid wall of his chest. Between granite and sinew. 

You lose all capacity to speak.

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out a hand to shut off the burner stove behind you with an easy flick of his wrist, the brief brush of his arm sending a shiver down your spine. Then, with maddening tenderness, he pinches your cheek between two fingers—his thumb caressing the spot right after.

In a voice filled with faux sympathy, he coos, “What’s got you all distracted, poppet?”

He’s teasing. You know he’s teasing. 

He’s done nothing but tease you with his devastatingly good looks, his overwhelming presence, and syrupy words spoken so sinfully in that low cadence of his voice, ever since he arrived. And, oh, you’re not sure whether to scream or kiss the smug look off his face silly.

You’re so bad at being subtle. You always have been, especially when it comes to him. And you know you can’t hide anything from Sylus – from the smallest flicker of microexpression on your face, down to the shortness of your breath. Both of you know this. Both of you painfully aware of the effect he has on you.

And just as much, you know he’s been holding himself back—that no matter how flirtatious he gets, he’s still keeping enough control to pull away whenever you start to get too overwhelmed.

Despite his provocations, Sylus never pushes. He waits, patiently. Giving you the space to volley back if you want to. And if you don’t, he backs off in a second, with the same effortless ease he uses to tease you. Leaving you room to breathe again. 

Rinse, repeat. 

It’s almost as if you two are playing a game with poorly drawn rules. You don’t know who’s winning.

The little spell breaks when you feel a disgruntled meow against your shin; it's immediately followed by a cat headbutting you, twice in succession, with a surprising amount of aggression.

"Not used to sharing your mother, are you?" Sylus sighs, pulling back from where he’d been caging you in—his movements slow, reluctant. 

A warning hiss rises from below. He raises his hands in mock surrender, stepping back to a safer distance, just out of swiping range. 

"Yes, yes. You win,” he grumbles in acquiescence at the testy feline, a comically put-upon look on his face. “For now.”  

You pull your eyes away from his bicep—look, you're just a girl, okay—to blink down at the temperamental little creature who’s now self-appointed himself as your personal foot guard. 

He’s making some vague, cryptic noises, something between a purr and a growl, while keeping his eyes locked firmly on Sylus’ leg. 

"He–um, he might just be hungry," you manage to mutter. A quick glance at the food bowl says otherwise. "...or not."

Sylus huffs under his breath, a low sound, equal parts understanding and mildly affronted. He tilts his head – eyes narrowing at the untouched kibble, then to the small furry menace claiming your feet like a jilted lover.

Unfortunately, Maru’s reception to the new person has been... less than cordial.

From the moment Sylus walked in the apartment, Maru had hissed at him as if to say: There is no reason for a Man to be here, before darting beneath the coffee table – tail lashing with all the theatrics of a petulant child. The churlish product of a mother who's been single for far too long, that he’s decided he’s the only boy she’ll ever need. 

It strikes you as a little odd. He never usually gets antsy around guests, and you'd even thought he and Sylus got along—or at least, back when the man in question was confined to mere pixels on screen. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have counted on that.

Sylus, to his credit, hasn't once tried to close the distance or force a peace treaty. Amused, definitely; the way his eyes glint whenever Maru glares at him could almost qualify as charmed. But since stepping into your home, he’s been mindful about giving the creature a wide berth, moving with the quiet understanding that respect here is sacrosanct, something to be earned. That he’s the one imposing, and the truce between him and the (true) man of the house is a fragile, delicate thing. 

You honestly haven’t decided if Maru’s behaviour is because he’s protective... or just pissed that someone else is hogging your attention.

"It’s alright, sweetie," Sylus—your son’s chosen rival—soothed you reassuringly; his hand rubbing a slow, comforting circle over the small of your back when he caught the slightly crestfallen look on your face. "He’s just feeling territorial about his space right now. Give it some time."

“I’ll get dressed,” Sylus murmurs. “Don’t start on the coffee without me.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, then another between your brows; the casual, freely-given affection leaves you warm and gooey inside. He turns toward your vanity, where his black duffel bag rests on the small plastic saddle chair.

You watch his retreating figure for a few seconds—long enough for him to glance back over his shoulder, one brow lifted in lazy inquiry. And the look is so familiar; so painfully reminiscent of the one he gives you in-game, right after you’d deliver a ‘slap’ to his ass, that it knocks you a little off-kilter. 

… Which might explain why you don’t react fast enough when his eyes flash with mischief, and he casually undoes the knot of his towel.

The fabric drops.

You catch a glimpse—more than a glimpse, hello—of the perkiest butt you’ve ever seen in your life, and you spin around so fast you slam your elbow into something undoubtedly solid in the process.

A half-pained, half-mortified wheeze escapes your throat.

"Careful," he calls out to you—and though amusement colors his voice, there's a real thread of worry beneath it, enough to make you want to slam your head against the counter for some inexplicable reason. "Don’t feel the need to grant me modesty on my behalf, kitten."

"Kitten’s about to kill herself," you lament with a whine. 

It earns you an unimpressed scoff.

“I just got here, my love,” he deadpans without missing a beat. “Daddy’s gonna have to ask you to hold on a little longer.”

You choke on nothing but air. Critical system failure. 

Buffering… buffering… buffering…

You inhale sharply.

"Okay, pause," you beg, a slightly hysterical edge to your tone as you claw your way back from a full-blown breakdown. In an attempt to divert the topic, “D’you–uh, do you want anything on your eggs? I’ve got ketchup, hot sauce... barbecue sauce..."

"A proper chef now, are you?" And oh, the next thing you know, he’s right behind you again. Close enough that you can feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of your shirt. 

He smells faintly like your body wash, like Dove nourishing coconut and your calendula shampoo, a heady mix of something sweet and herbal.

The thought of him—of the both of you—smelling the same, actually makes you feel giddy. 

What a stupidly trivial, novel thing to find joy in. 

Snap the fuck out of it, it’s just soap, you chide to yourself. 

You don’t even notice you’re trembling until Sylus curls a large hand around yours; steadying the shaky fingers reaching for the bottle of Cholula on the condiment tray, while his other hand gently cradles your hurt elbow. 

Your breath hitches when he presses a kiss to your temple.

"Oh, sweetie," he murmurs, and it’s the way he says it—low and unbearably fond—that loosens some of the tension on your shoulders. "You’ve wound yourself up."

"I'm good," you mumble, though your voice betrays you, thinner than you mean it to sound.

"It's just me," he says, his tone as gentle as the breeze slipping through the open window, ruffling the choppy bangs that frame your face. "Nothing so different from how it’s always been, hmm?"

And you know he’s right. It's just him. Just Sylus. Your Sylus. No different from the one from two years ago.

"I know," you sigh, finally turning to face him, having to crane your neck slightly to meet his eyes. 

His expression is softer now, the type of softness reserved solely for you, something that never fails to make you ache. The teasing is gone, tucked away for the time being. 

"I just need a little time to wrap my head around this," you admit, voice quieter now. "Is that... is that okay?"

The greys of his eyes melt into something silvery, moonlit—impossibly tender. 

In one smooth motion, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter and steps between your legs, closing what little space remains between you. You yelp in surprise, but before you can react, he’s already leaning in, stealing a kiss from your lips. Just a quick one, like he couldn’t help himself, like he needed a taste to hold him over. He chuckles when he sees your wide-eyed look.

"Of course, my love," he says, voice wrought with promise—in love with the way your lips part, bitten pink and unsure, as he lifts your hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of it. "We’ll go as slow as you want. Forever, if that’s what you need." Forever, as what you two have. 

… 

For over a year, you’ve learned how to enjoy the small things alone. And you did—enjoy it, you mean. Once, almost a lifetime ago, you took for granted the quiet joys of a slower life. But you learned to take it day by day. One hour at a time, minute after minute. 

It made room for reflection, and it moulded you into something stronger, and softer, all at once.  

But this—with him—brings you back to another time. A sweeter time; the dog-day summer of your life. 

The morning hums with a kind of quiet normalcy you’ve grown accustomed to. You’re used to the sunlight spilling through the linen curtains, lining the floor with streaks of honey-gold, soft as a happy memory. Used to the noise of the outside world bleeding through the walls, a constant presence you’ve long since accepted as a permanent fixture in this tiny apartment, like a second heartbeat.

He’s right, in a way. 

This isn’t so different from the mornings you once shared with the same man—back when he wore a different face and led an extraordinarily polarized life, completely at odds with yours. The ones spent laughing into a screen, your fingers ghosting across glass, desperate to grasp something you never could. 

That life feels like it belonged to someone else now. Someone lonelier. 

So, no. Maybe not quite the same – maybe not even close.

–

You finally allow yourself to give in; to sink into the warmth of him, folding yourself smaller in his embrace like a tired bird nestling into a safer sky, your heart fluttering wild and restless against your ribs. Too big for your body, too full to contain. Here – tangled together in this sliver of morning light – everything that has hurt you feels small in comparison. You were never alone to begin with. But with Sylus in your arms, the world feels brighter than you ever remembered it could be.

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy @touya-apologist @gladiolus-mamacitia @btszn @wrimaira @writingmyladsdelusions @borkunlimited @magnoliaswriteatsunset

[itsnesss]

𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader

OO1. OO2. OO3.

summary | during a weekend getaway, unspoken tension between you and minho comes to a head despite his relationship. a stolen kiss leaves you conflicted, torn between your feelings and doing what’s right

warnings | fluff, infidelity, tension, kisses, emotional conflict

word count | 1.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The invitation arrived unexpectedly at night. You were about to finish your tasks when your phone buzzed with a message in the group chat you shared with your friends.

Min Ho: "Hey, losers. This weekend, I’m inviting you to my dad’s cabin. Before you start making pathetic plans, confirm who’s coming. It’s going to be epic."

You stared at the message, surprised. Min Ho didn’t usually organize things like this… or at least, he didn’t invite everyone. Yuri was the first to reply.

Yuri: "Of course, we’re coming! Although I can’t believe you’re being generous. Is this a joke?"

Juliana: "I’m in! I wouldn’t miss it!"

Q: "Count me in."

Then, a message from Stella, his girlfriend, appeared.

Stella: "It’ll be fun. 💕"

For a moment, you hesitated. There was something about the idea of spending a weekend with Min Ho that made you feel… nervous. For months, there had been this strange tension between you two: glances that lasted longer than they should, little jokes only you understood, and an electricity you tried to ignore. But he had a girlfriend. And you weren’t that kind of person.

Still, you finally typed: "I’m in."

Min Ho: "Good choice. See you Friday at 5 PM. Don’t be late.

The weekend came quickly. Everyone gathered in the KISS parking lot, where Min Ho waited with his cars. Stella took the passenger seat, and you ended up in the back, squeezed between Yuri and Juliana. During the ride, Min Ho drove with a confidence that was as infuriating as it was attractive, throwing sarcastic comments that seemed aimed directly at you.

"Ready for the best weekend of your life?" he asked, briefly glancing back at you with a smug grin.

"I don’t know, Min Ho. You’ll have to try really hard to impress me," you replied, crossing your arms.

The "cabin" turned out to be a luxury villa in the middle of the forest, with huge windows, modern furniture, and a lake view straight out of a postcard. "Welcome to paradise," Min Ho said, spreading his arms wide.

The afternoon passed with board games, walks by the lake, and laughter. Stella was more interested in her phone than the group, leaving Min Ho free to talk to you more than he should have. His comments seemed harmless, but there was something in his tone and the way he looked at you that made your heart beat faster than usual.

When night fell, Yuri suggested using the outdoor jacuzzi. "It’s the perfect way to end the day!"

"I hope you all brought decent swimsuits," Min Ho said, throwing you a teasing look.

"I hope you talk less," you shot back, meeting his gaze.

The jacuzzi was surrounded by warm lights that gave the garden a tranquil atmosphere. Everyone got in, laughing, and for a while, you managed to relax. Min Ho, as always, dominated the conversation with exaggerated stories, but his eyes kept finding yours. That invisible connection you’d both been ignoring was there, growing stronger by the minute.

One by one, your friends began to leave the jacuzzi. Yuri and Juliana were the first, saying they were cold. Then Q, who yawned dramatically before saying goodnight. Finally, Stella said, "I’m going to bed, love. Don’t stay too long," planting a kiss on Min Ho’s cheek before disappearing into the villa.

Now, you were alone with him. You tried to focus on the starry sky, but the silence between you was too heavy. Finally, Min Ho broke the ice.

"Why do you always do that?"

You turned to him, confused. "Do what?"

"Pretend like nothing matters to you," he said, leaning against the edge of the jacuzzi as he stared at you.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Min Ho," you replied, crossing your arms.

"Yes, you do," he insisted, with that infuriating smile that made your heart race and drove you crazy at the same time.

"If you’re looking for a fight, find someone else," you retorted, turning your gaze back to the water.

But he didn’t back down. "I’m not looking for a fight. I just want to understand why you act like you don’t feel the same way I do."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Min Ho, you have a girlfriend."

"That doesn’t answer my question," he said, leaning a little closer to you.

You looked him straight in the eye, trying to stay calm. "Because it doesn’t make sense, Min Ho. We’re different. You’re… you. And I don’t want complications."

"Complications?" he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe it. "Is that what you think I am?"

"No," you admitted softly. "But all of this would be. I don’t want to be the reason someone gets hurt."

For a moment, Min Ho didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, a mix of frustration and something else in his eyes. Finally, he spoke. "Do you know what your problem is? You always try to do the right thing, even when it’s not what you want."

"And that’s a bad thing, according to you?" you replied, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but…" he began, then stopped. He sighed, as if he was about to confess something important. "I’ve been trying to ignore this for months. But every time I’m near you, it’s like nothing else exists."

His words left you breathless. You wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. And then, before you could think about what you were doing, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow, intense, and full of everything you both had been holding back. His hands gently cupped your face, while the world around you seemed to disappear. But just as you were starting to lose yourself in the moment, reality hit you like a bucket of cold water.

You pulled away abruptly, your heart pounding. "This shouldn’t have happened," you said, moving away from him.

Min Ho looked at you, confused. "Why not?"

"Because you have a girlfriend, Min Ho. Stella trusts you. I can’t be that person."

"And what about what I feel? Or what you feel?" he asked, his voice softer this time.

"That doesn’t matter. It can’t matter," you whispered, your eyes filled with a sadness you couldn’t hide.

You quickly got up, wrapping the towel around your body. "I’m sorry, but this isn’t right."

Without waiting for a response, you walked back to the villa, leaving Min Ho alone. His words, and the warmth of his kiss, echoed in your mind as you walked away. This shouldn’t have happened. It couldn’t happen. And yet, a part of you wished things were different.

[dragoneyelashart]

just friends 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

authors note: sorry to twist the knife twice, i looove angst

warnings: angst, love for someone in a relationship

you think about her more than you'd ever admit.

not in the obvious ways, not in the blushing, giggly, teenage-daydream kind of way. no—your love for billie sits deeper. it’s tucked into the corners of your bones, resting beneath your ribs, pressed tight and hidden like something shameful. like something sacred.

every time you text her “i love you,” you mean it like a scream underwater. muffled. desperate. never loud enough to breach the surface. never meant to be heard in the way your heart intends it. she always texts it back—"love you more 💕"—like it’s easy. like it doesn’t tear anything open.

you wonder what she’d do if she knew. if she saw the way your hands shake when her name lights up your phone. if she knew how many nights you’ve fallen asleep picturing what her mouth might taste like between i love you and goodnight.

today is one of those days where you’re trying to forget. you’re doing errands. folding laundry. pretending you’re fine. and then her text comes through:

billie 💕: come over?

your heart drops.

you don’t even hesitate. everything else evaporates.

you: "rn? ok give me 5"

you throw on the first hoodie you find, barely register the color. it's hers—she lent it to you months ago and never asked for it back. it still smells like her. you don’t let yourself think about that too long. you just grab your keys, tell someone in your house you’ll be back soon, and leave. you don’t know what you’re going over for, but it doesn’t matter. it never matters. when it’s billie, it’s always yes. always.

the drive feels like nothing and forever all at once. your fingers tremble on the wheel. you’re trying to calm your breathing, trying not to imagine her answering the door in a tank top and sleepy eyes, the way she always does. you try not to imagine what it would be like if she pulled you in by the collar, whispered something soft and wrecking against your cheek.

you hate yourself a little for it. for wanting more. for being so goddamn pathetic about her.

you pull into her driveway, and your stomach sinks.

her girlfriend’s car is already there.

you swallow it down. no. you don’t get to be upset. she’s allowed to be happy. she’s allowed to love someone. it’s not your place. it’s never been your place.

you put your best smile on—it feels like pressing broken glass into your cheeks.

billie opens the door with that same grin, the one that used to make you feel like the world was okay. like maybe she was your safe place. she’s barefoot, hair in a messy bun, skin glowing. “hey!” she beams. “you got here so fast.”

“you said come over.” you shrug, try to laugh it off. “you know i’d drop anything.”

her girlfriend’s on the couch. you recognize her—pretty, sharp-jawed, the kind of girl who always knows what to say in a group. she waves politely and offers a tight smile.

you smile back, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

they're watching some show, talking about nothing, laughing in the way couples do. you sit off to the side, legs tucked under you, trying not to shrink into yourself.

billie tosses a blanket at you like she always does, like she knows you're cold even when you don't say it out loud. it should feel like home. instead, it burns.

at some point, her girlfriend gets up to use the bathroom. billie turns to you immediately, eyes narrowing.

“okay,” she says quietly. “spill.”

your heart jumps. “what?”

“don’t play dumb. i’ve known you my whole life, y/n. something’s up. you’re breathing weird. are you okay?”

you almost say it.

you almost say, i can’t stand watching you love someone else.

you almost say, i’m in love with you and it’s killing me.

instead, you shake your head. “nothing’s wrong.”

“bullshit.” she leans in closer. you can feel the heat of her next to you, the way your body reacts on instinct, like you’re drawn to her by gravity alone. “you always get this look when you’re upset. like your heart's too heavy for your chest.”

you want to cry.

you want to grab her by the shoulders and scream. tell her that she’s everything. that she’s the reason you get out of bed some mornings. that no one’s ever made you feel more like yourself and less like enough all at once.

but instead, you say, “i’m just tired.”

she stares at you for a second too long. like she’s trying to read between the cracks. like she’s waiting for something.

“you sure?” she whispers.

you nod.

you think your lungs might collapse.

she reaches out and squeezes your hand. just a second. just a flicker of touch. but it wrecks you.

you look down at your knees, suddenly too aware of how your hoodie smells like her. how it still feels like something sacred and stolen.

her girlfriend comes back and billie pulls her hand away, just like that. like it never meant anything.

because to her, it didn’t.

the three of you sit there for another twenty minutes. laughing. making dumb jokes. pretending this isn’t hell. and when you finally stand up to leave, your legs barely hold you.

“text me when you get home,” billie says. “you know i worry.”

you nod again. you can’t speak. if you open your mouth, something might come out that you’ll never be able to take back.

you get to the door. her girlfriend’s in the kitchen. billie follows you, just for a second, hand brushing your wrist.

“hey,” she says softly. “you know i love you, right?”

it hits you like a truck. she doesn’t mean it the way you do. she never has.

you force a smile. it feels like something’s breaking.

“yeah,” you whisper. “i know.”

you turn to go, and she says it behind you—

"thank you, y/n. you're such a good friend to me."

you don’t remember walking to your car.

your feet move but you’re not in them. your body goes through the motions—unlock, slide in, start the engine—but your head is somewhere else. still on the doorstep. still in her eyes. still in the echo of that fucking sentence.

“thank you, y/n. you’re such a good friend to me.”

you’ve heard her say i love you a hundred times. sometimes in texts. sometimes whispered during late-night phone calls. sometimes at sleepovers when you were half-asleep and warm under the same blanket. it always meant something.

but tonight—it meant nothing.

or maybe it meant everything.

just not the kind of everything you wanted it to.

you pull out of her driveway too fast. you’re shaking. the streetlights blur. your vision goes glassy. you blink hard, but it’s no use.

you’re crying before you’ve even turned the first corner.

not the loud kind. not the sobs that shake your whole body. this is different. it’s quiet. it’s shameful. it’s all your ribs caving in at once. it’s your throat closing up like it’s trying to save you from speaking the truth out loud.

you drive in silence.

no music.

no noise.

just the sound of your own breath stuttering in the dark.

you don’t go home. not yet. you can’t. you wouldn’t know how to walk into your house and pretend you’re okay. not like this. not when everything inside you feels like it’s splintered.

you pull into the parking lot of some random grocery store. leave your engine running. sit there in the dim orange glow of a flickering streetlight, clutching the sleeves of the hoodie like it’s a lifeline.

her hoodie.

her scent.

her warmth.

her name pounding in your chest.

you press your forehead to the steering wheel and finally let it all go.

the tears come harder now. like your body’s been waiting. like your heart’s had enough of holding everything in. you sob into the silence, mouth open, breath hitching, hands trembling.

why did you have to love her like this?

why couldn’t it just be enough to be her friend?

you would’ve done anything for her.

anything.

but you never stood a chance. not against someone like her girlfriend. someone beautiful. someone bold. someone who could touch her in all the ways you weren’t allowed to. someone who didn’t flinch when billie leaned in close. someone who didn’t fall apart every time she said i love you like a knife disguised as kindness.

you squeeze your eyes shut and try to rewind it all. try to pretend you never came over. that you stayed home. that you never saw the way billie’s hand fit into her girlfriend’s so easily. that you didn’t hear the words that finally killed the last stupid hope you were clinging to.

“you’re such a good friend to me.”

you’ve been her friend your whole life.

and now, it feels like a prison you built yourself.

you want to hate her. god, it would be so much easier if you could. if she were cruel. if she strung you along on purpose. but she didn’t. she just… loved you the only way she knew how.

and it wasn’t the way you needed.

your phone buzzes beside you. you already know who it is.

billie 💕: did you make it home safe?

you stare at the message for a long time. thumbs hovering over the screen. there’s a pressure building in your chest like a scream you’re not allowed to let out.

you type.

you: yeah. thanks.

you don’t say i love you. not this time.

you just toss your phone onto the passenger seat and let your head fall back against the headrest. your eyes are still wet. your heart’s still breaking. your hands are clenched into fists around the fabric of her hoodie like maybe, if you hold on tight enough, you won’t completely come undone.

taglist: @amara-eilish @bilswifee @iamnicoke @jayjaywetforbils @bittersuitekim @bxllxebxtch @ifnot-foryou @giannaeilish @ijustlovemaths @ilovealiceosemann @bilssturns | send me an ask or comment if you want to be added or removed from my taglist!

[yukioos]

hii can you please write a angst fic with logan where the reader and logan are friends but she is jealous of jean with fluff at the end (sorry if i did some mistakes english isn’t my first language) tysm 💕💕

welcome and goodbye — logan howlett x reader

warnings: angst, cussing, insecurity, not proofread

summary: reader and logan are friends, but she thinks logan likes jean, causing her to feel jealous. logan and reader end up having a conversation about her feelings.

authors note: i love this request so much omg. sorry i haven’t posted in a while. i hope i did a good job ahdjdod enjoy!! 💗

word count: 2.5k

for the past three weeks, logan has constantly tried to attain jean’s attention, to no avail. he’s spent every waking moment with her when scott’s not around, except when he needs sleep. what’s irritating you is that he keeps updating you for every interaction he and jean have.

every word transmitted between them, every touch, every glance travels to you. you’re the first person who knows whenever they interact, though he won’t go on hour-long yap sessions about it. you’ve always thought it was strange how he denies being attracted to jean because everyone thinks he does.

jean seems to like you enough to have a one-on-one conversation with you, but not enough to tell you things about other people’s minds. you and she aren’t as close as you and ororo, who insists that logan isn’t romantically attracted to jean. for once in your life, you doubt her words, and your chest pains at the thought of logan being captivated by the redhead.

on some days, logan’s small mention of her, hearing her talk or her name gives you a headache. it’s not that she’s annoying, but because logan seems to have taken a liking to her, you’ve become jealous. you’ve convinced yourself you shouldn’t be jealous in the first place because you and logan aren’t a couple, but you know well that the jealousy comes from insecurity.

becoming in touch with your emotions and putting a name on them has been difficult for you. however, in this case, it was easy to tell how you felt about logan and jean’s relationship. accepting that you love logan was tough because you simply couldn’t see yourself with him. you now realize you thought that because you were insecure.

the thought that logan would stop talking to you entirely and replace you with jean has haunted you. guilt came and corrupted your mind, and the feeling of hopelessness doesn’t help. anxiety spreads to your body and mind, and a lump in your throat appears whenever logan comes into your view.

thoughts continue to override your mind as you sit at the island counters with a plate of pasta in front of you. you twirl the fork in your hand, picking up pasta. you bring it to your mouth and continue until your plate is empty.

footsteps are heard behind you, though you don’t have to turn around to know who it is. jean walks into your view and greets you before turning around and leaning on the counter in front of you.

she smiles at you and tilts her head, worried eyes meeting yours, “you’ve seemed stressed lately, y/n. are you okay? you know you can talk to me if anything’s up.” she pauses, you feel as if she’s staring into your soul, “i can feel your mind has been off lately. what’s going on in that head of yours?”

your body tenses, and you shrink at her gaze, directed and focused on you. your throat tightens, and your chest feels like it’s stabbed, a knife twisting deeper and deeper as she continues talking. your breathing destabilizes, and your eyes dart around as you keep your mouth shut, searching for objects and senses to keep you grounded.

she whispers, only loud enough for you to hear, “i’m not going to read your mind because you’ve asked me not to. but for your health, i’m asking that you talk to someone about whatever you’re going through. please.” she gives you a weak and sad smile, “i should be going now. goodnight, y/n.”

she walks away, and the guilt immediately eats you alive. you bite your lip as your throat starts to hurt, and your eyes sting. you shut them close and place your elbows on the countertop, cradling your head in your hands.

she deserves to be with logan, she’s sweet and smart and probably meets his needs better than you can. yet, you still want to be with him. you know what he sees in her because you can see it too. hell, if you were in his position, you’d love her as well.

but the thoughts never leave your mind. constant thoughts and worries occupy your mind even as people talk to you. you can’t stop yourself from feeling attracted to logan, though you think you’d be better off because he loves another. though, the amount of time he spends with her makes you feel warm and agitated.

“hey, y/n. what ‘re you doing here? shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed?” you’re taken from your thoughts when logan sits next to you and speaks clearly.

your heart aches at his words, his care. you were always skeptical of others, and now you wonder if his kindness has been fake. it always seemed he only needed jean to talk to, and that’s the only company he needed. you feel a wetness on your cheek, whimpering at the realization that you’re crying.

“sweetheart, why ‘re you crying? pretty girl like you shouldn’t be sad. can’t fix your problem if you don’t tell me about it,” he wraps his arm around your shoulder and rubs your arm, “jean told me you seemed off, said i should talk to you.”

you hesitantly look up at him and mumble, “what?”

jean storms down the hall, heels clacking with each step. she huffs as she opens doors into classrooms, trying to find logan. she doesn’t have enough energy to control his mind and make him come downstairs, so she searches the old-fashioned way.

she then stumbles into one of the classrooms, long, white hair catches her eyes. ororo sits at one of the desks, seemingly unaware and calm as she writes on a piece of paper, adding it to a pile.

“ororo,” jean calmly announces herself, causing her to jump and turn around.

she places her hand on her chest and grumbles, “what do you need?”

it wasn’t normal for her to act grumpy, nonetheless feel grumpy in the first place. she was naturally a calm person, not matching her alias ‘storm,’ but was a protective person. she always knew when to put on a serious expression and deal with a problem, she always protects her friends and the ones she loves.

jean keeps her hand placed on the doorframe, not wanting to intrude ororo’s space, “do you know where logan is?”

the white-haired girl finally looks back and shrugs, “probably in his room,” jean turns around to leave when ororo adds, “wait, why do you need to talk to him? aren’t him and y/n… you know…”

she hesitates, turning back and looking into the room, keeping her voice low, “y/n’s upset, i think she needs to talk to logan about whatever’s happening. he’s been wanting to talk to her too—“

“well then go and get him! they need to talk one way or another!” ororo shoo’s her away, causing the redhead to chuckle and close the door.

she then sighs and looks to the left, hearing you sniffle and shaking as your head lays in your hands. her face softens and she walks up the large flight of stairs, walking to the level where the instructors sleep. she then swings open logan’s door and crosses her arms.

he turns around and glares from his spot on the bed, “don’t barge into my room like that. who do you think you are?”

she rolls her eyes and stares at him, eyes sharp, “go talk to y/n. you haven’t talked to her in weeks, it’s past time. she’s in the kitchen.”

“don’t know what to say to her,” he mumbles, cleaning his claws with a towel.

“you love her, logan. you’ll know what to say to her.” she pauses, glancing around the room, “it’s obvious she’s stressed, there’s something up with her.” the silence makes her sigh, “she needs you, logan.”

he stares at her for a moment before standing up and retracting his claws. he glares at her and walks right past her, moving his shoulder so he doesn’t bump into her. he grabs the doorknob and pulls it hard, shutting it and nearly causing an earthquake that disrupts the whole mansion and everyone in it.

he walks down the stairs, in the direction of where the kitchen is. he could hear your sniffles from miles away and would love to be able to comfort you for years on end if he had to. he had a problem with distancing himself from others, he didn’t want to hurt you.

he thinks maybe he’ll hurt you one day if you’re too connected. somehow and someway, he always ends up hurting the people he loves. that’s why he sticks with jean, because he doesn’t feel as big of a connection with her as he does with you.

he can’t hurt jean because he doesn’t care enough. he worries and loves you, and apparently, in his mind, that’s what makes him dangerous. the fact that he cares about you makes him think he needs to stay away from you, he’s a danger to everyone he loves.

he slows down when he hears your gasps for air in the kitchen, he knows you’re about to cry. he needs to comfort you, and his heart aches when he sees you like this.

“yeah, jean told me you weren’t feelin’ well. decided to come check up on you.” he gives you a rare smile, a genuine one, yet his eyes are full of worry.

“don’t you like her?” you mumble, sniffling as you look back down at the counter again, lip trembling.

he chuckles, causing you to glare at him, “what? you think i like jean? you gotta be kiddin’ me, sweetheart. wouldn't like that girl in a million years. i’m stuck on someone else, anyway.”

you pause and stare at him, he just admitted he doesn’t like her, yet you still doubt his words.

you grumble, “why the hell do you spend so much time with her then? we used to talk every day and actually have interesting conversations. i haven’t heard a single word from you in weeks that isn’t about jean.”

he sighs and hesitantly answers, rubbing your shoulder, “thought i’d hurt you if i were near you.”

“what do you mean?” you ask, looking up at him with your teary eyes, hands fiddling on your lap.

“i hurt people i love. i don’t know why, i don’t know how, but i do, and i don’t want you to get hurt. that’s why i spend time with jean, i don’t care about her as much as i care about you. maybe if you thought i liked her, you’d stay away, so i wouldn’t end up hurting you.” he confesses, redirecting his eyes away from you.

“you didn’t even look at me when she was around,” you whisper, eyes tearing up again as your voice cracks, “i understand why you felt that way, but it still hurts.”

silence fills the room, and you continue to fiddle with your hands. logan bites his cheek as he thinks about what to say next, meanwhile, you wonder if you should say what you’re thinking.

“i’m sorry. i think i overreacted because i like you and i mean, i thought you liked jean so i didn’t reach out.” you mutter.

logan’s expression doesn’t change, but you can tell his mind is full of thoughts. he regrets not talking to you about other things. he wasted his time on jean when he could’ve been with you. you were better than her anyway, and she told him multiple times he’s a dick for acting this way to you.

even scott told him to get his act together. one reason was that he cares about you, the second was because he wanted logan to stay the hell away from his girlfriend. scott threatened to tell you that logan likes you but was interrupted when he suddenly had three claws to his throat.

“so i was upset over nothing?” you begin to doubt yourself, placing your head in your hands and rubbing your eyes, feeling tired as you slowly doze off.

he chuckles, “i think it was reasonable to react the way you did. i’d be sad if you did that to me.” he pauses, sighing as he sees you laying your cheek and arms on the countertop.

he smiles and stands up, gently picking you up and carrying you bridal style. his strong arms hold your delicate body as he carries you up the stairs, walking to your room.

he opens your door, and peeks to see if this is the right room. it looks just as he remembers, nights spent watching movies or reading books in one another’s presence. he then quietly closes the door behind him and lays you on the bed.

he slips off your shoes, placing them on the shoe rack next to your door. he then softly sits you upright so he can take your zip-up off, pulling the sleeves off your arms. he stares at your face and remembers when you told him once. you hate wearing a bra to bed.

he switches back and forth between ideas, whether or not he should take it off. it felt too intimate for him. a romantic partner should do that for you, not a person who hardly even talks to you anymore.

he then sighs and runs his hand along your back, trying to find the back of the bra. he then unclips it through your shirt, a decision so you’d be comfortable but so he wouldn’t make you feel uncomfortable when you wake up. pulling the covers down, he picks you up and places you directly on your bed, sheets draping over your body.

he brushes the hair out of your face, then turns around to leave before hearing your shy voice, “logan,” he turns and kneels at your bed, “can you stay? just for a little bit, at least?”

the way you’ve shown kindness despite how he’s treated you in the past breaks his heart. he smiles and nods, sitting on your bed, yet not under the covers to not make you feel uneasy.

you snuggle up next to him, feeling his body warmth through the comforter. he places an arm around your back, comfortingly rubbing up and down when he hears soft, muffled sobs next to him.

he pulls the covers up and lays underneath as you reach your hands towards his body. you wrap your arm around his midsection, tears soaking his shirt.

he whispers lovingly into your hair, “i’m sorry, sweet girl, i’m here now.” and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

the tension slowly releases from your body, and you feel less stiff. the rubs on your back lull you to sleep, and logan feels your breathing even out. he’s wary of falling asleep himself, worried about hurting you, but he can’t resist when he’s where he’s always wanted to be, comforting you as you lay in his arms.

[lyworth]

She's proud of her handiwork (and he loves it)✨💅

Drew this lil thing as a cover for my "Valentine's*" fic, which I just finished off today!💕It's up on AO3 and Wattpad! Snippet under the cut.

“Thank you,” she says softly. “For the handkerchief.”

A lump rises in Ominis’ throat. He manages to nod.

“If you could—” Allegra clears her throat. “—Gaunt, please don’t—”

“Tell?” he finishes. He sighs, flashing her a brief smile. “A talent of mine, if you’d believe it.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Fair.”

Another smile. She’d stolen many from him tonight.

“I should get back to Gryffindor. You should get back to Prefect duty,” she says. She rises to her feet, marked by a whirl of skirts and a brief rush of air. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

He stands and listens to her walk away, each footstep growing softer as she slowly makes her way down the stairs.

Then:

“Gaunt?”

Ominis tilts his head. “Chant?”

“You shouldn’t use such cheap silk for your handkerchiefs,” she says loftily. “It’ll give you pimples.” She hmphs, although there is a teasing note in it. “You’d think a Gaunt would be able to tell the difference.”

Ominis smirks. “Five points from Gryffindor.”

She laughs, and Ominis hears the swoosh of her hair as she tosses it, marching away in a chorus of clicking heels.

[writingsbymo-mo]

Mine Always

Bonten!Rindou x F!Reader

Rating: Mature

Contains: pregnancy, mild sexual themes, language

Contains spoilers for the Tenjiku arc

Note: she/her pronouns are used when referring to your past self at times...and in the little bonus at the end. Keep that in mind before reading 💕

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Welcome home, Rindou!" You beamed, planting a kiss on his lips, "did you miss me?" You had a long day sorting through files for Koko. With you being a few months pregnant, you were stuck doing office work for Bonten, not that you minded. Field work was always more enjoyable, especially after many adrenaline induced escapades with Rindou that led to your current situation.

Rindou smiled into the kiss, sneaking a few on the shell of your ear. "Why wouldn't I miss my beautiful pregnant wife?" He cooed, picking you up in his arms. "Come on, it's been a long day for both of us. Let's get some rest."

The city lights illuminated the space just enough to reach the comfort of your shared bed. Gently, he lowered you onto the silk sheets, tucking you in. He's been doing this often the moment your little bump began to show and honestly, you loved it. The bed creaked under his weight as he joined you under the covers. He rolled onto his side, gazing at you fondly, gently wrapping his arms around your form until your back was pressed to his chest. "Can't believe we've been together for over ten years now. And now, we have a little Haitani on the way." His warm hand began rubbing small circles onto your bump as he pressed kisses into the back of your neck.

You gasped, moving your head to give him more access to your neck as a thought came to you. "I wonder how our past selves would react to us now, you know? I mean, you used to have the biggest crush on me according to Ran before we started dating." Rindou scoffed, "of course he told you that...sigh...though he is part of the reason we're here now."

"Aww," you cooed, placing your hand over his, "I guess I'll have to thank him later. Still, I think you'd have the cutest reactions if your past self knew you fucked a baby into me." You giggled as he shook his head with a chuckle. "Alright love, let's go to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Yeah, goodnight Rin."

"Goodnight love," he whispered and kissed your neck.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You awaken to a shrill scream piercing your ears. "Who the fuck are you? How did you get in here? GET OUT!!!!"

You rubbed your eyes and sat up immediately, confused as to what is happening. You fell asleep next to Rindou like always so who is this? Then it hit you, where is he.....

Frantically, you search the room only to find....familiarity? It was your old bedroom. The walls lined with posters of your favorite bands and movies, your computer with your cd tower next to it with a few cases placed at your desk you were given to by Rindou not long after you started dating. You smiled, remembering how excited he was giving you his first copy of remixes and originals to you, wanting your honest feedback after listening to it. It was something you always cherished even into your present time. You couldn't help the soft smile forming on your face as you reminisced your memories with him.

"HEY! Are you even listening?! GET THE FUCK OUT!!!"

You snapped out of your thoughts, staring wide-eyed at your past self fuming, holding a bat you used to have before it snapped in half during a fight. Somehow, you stayed calm, sighing as you got a better look at your past self. "I almost forgot I dyed my hair neon pink and blue with a black under color...Ran and Rindou were right though. It was a good look for me," mumbled to yourself, or so you thought. Your younger self clutched the bat tighter, closer to her chest. "H-how...how...what??? What do you mean by "me"?"

You quietly laughed and smiled, "it's just as I said. I am you just about ten years from now."

Her jaw dropped, "so...if you're me...then who knocks me up in the future?" She said as she points to your visible bump.

"You want to know?" She nods at you while your hand caresses your stomach, rubbing it fondly. "Rindou did."

"Y-you mean...we—

"Yes, we fucked."

A huge blush spread across her face. She stepped towards the bed, grabbed the nearest pillow and squealed into it, "ohmygodohmygodohmygod!"

'How cute!' You thought, giggling to yourself. She lifted her head so only her eyes were visible, "is he, you know...big?" You almost choked on your spit, "y-yeah...he's quite thick. The best I've ever had." Then it dawned on you. 'Did Rindou get transported here too? If so, is he at his old place? But what if he isn't?'

"Shit, I'm going to be late!" She jumped to the closet, throwing on her Tenjiku uniform, grabbing her trusty bat then turning her head to you with a smirk, "you coming or not?"

"You know it!" And maybe, just maybe he'll also be there.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The sun shone bright in the sky as you left Yokohama Station with your past self leading the way. 'Must be one of the executive's meetings before our major battle with Toman,' You concurred given the information gathered from your past self.

A few twists and turns down streets and alleyways, the two of you made it to the abandoned warehouse where the meeting would take place. "It's the same as I remember." The floors were covered in dirt and broken glass, mainly by the windows. More people in red coats arrived shortly after your arrival: Mochi, Shion, Koko, Hanma, Kisaki, and Muto. One of them approached you, eyeing your figure as he licked his lips.

"Oi, Rindou's girl, who's the pregnant babe?"

"Shut it Hanma, she's taken!" Your past self barked. "Besides, she's me."

"The fuck?!" Hanma, Shion, and Mochi yelled in unison. Koko squinted in confusion, clearly thinking the same thing while Muto furrowed his brows. Kisaki stood quietly, unwavered yet bothered by the circumstances. They all stared at you, then at your other self, then back to you. "Well, they both look the same to me," stated Mochi. Shion scoffed, "the pregnant one is clearly better looking."

"I heard that!" Your past self yelled, clenching her fists, stomping towards Shion who shrunk back. You held your arm out in front of her, glaring at him. "I may be pregnant but I can still take you in a fight, Shion. Say that to me again, I dare you," glowered. He held his hands up, laughing nervously to himself. "So then future Rindou's girl, did he knock you up or—"

"I did."

Everyone shifted to the new voice. He stepped forward, hands in his suit pockets with his usual annoyed expression as two young men in black Tenjiku uniforms followed behind him. "Rindou!" You beamed. Your eyes watered a little as you ran to him, jumping in his arms. "I missed you sweetheart," he smiled, pulling you in a tight hug and peppered kisses on your forehead as though he was afraid to lose you again.

"R-Rindou?!" The members of Tenjiku exclaimed, eyes wide with their jaws to the floor.

Ran and past Rindou strolled over to you, the older one placing a hand on your shoulder. "I'm going to be an uncle," he smiled. "Yeah, in ten years," stated your Rindou as he rolled his eyes. "Still, I will be an uncle."

The Rindou from the past couldn't stop himself from looking at his girlfriend to you and your baby bump. Rosey pink filled his cheeks, knowing what he or his future self did with you. "Don't worry yourself too much. Just make sure to take good care of her when the time comes," you winked at him. The tips of his ears turned crimson as he looked away, taking his glasses off to clean them. "Don't tease him too much, love. You know how I was then." You giggled and booped his nose, "and you're still like that Rin-Rin."

"So, I heard we have some unexpected guests joining us. Thanks for the call, Ran"

All members of Tenjiku dropped silent, paying respects to their leader.

"I-Izana..." your eyes began to water as your heart swelled. Of course, he'd still be here. The Toman battle hasn't arrived yet

"Congratulations you two," Izana smiles, "the weather is lovely today, isn't it?"

You nodded, "it's good to see you again."

Kakuchou stood beside Izana, softly gazing at you and Rindou. "It's good to see you're still together."

Seeing everybody filled you and Rindou with joy. You shed a few tears as his thumb wiped them away. "I know we just got here, but we should find a way to get home. No telling what shit is going down with us gone." You sighed, defeated then nodded. He's right. Even if we stay, we don't belong in this time. "Do you know how?" He shrugged, "I'm not sure, but I've heard some of Sanzu's strange mumbling during his highs about time travel...and if I'm right, I need to be behind you."

"You're leaving already? But you just got here..." your past self cried, tackling you into a hug. "At least let me say goodbye first!" You smile, returning it. "Take care of that baby, you hear?" She sniffs. "Don't worry, we will."

Younger Rindou approaches the two of you, unable to look you in the eyes. He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, still bushing from earlier. "Don't worry, I'll take care of her. And take care of our future child...plea—oof—" Ran drapes an arm over his shoulder and pulls him down with him to reach your eye level. "Take care of yourself and be good to my little nephew when he's born Rin-Rin!" Rindou rolls his eyes, "it's not like yourself from the future doesn't say that every single day," he retorts, though he can't help but smile. Ran nudges his brother under his arm, "and you better take care of your girl."

"Bye you two!"

"See you soon?!"

"Don't make too many crotch goblins!"

You both laughed at the last one.

It was time to go. A heavy sigh escaped you. Rindou circled behind you, wrapping his arms around your waste and nuzzling your neck. "I love you," he muttered, leaving a light peck on your nape.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Light was swallowed in an instant as you found yourself under the covers of familiar silky sheets. You yawned, stretching your limbs with a grunt. 'Was that all a dream? It felt too real.'

A set of arms pulled you closer. You squeaked as he kissed your neck. "Rindou!" You whined. "Shhhh, go back to sleep love," he whispered into your skin, sliding a hand down to caress your stomach. "So it was a dream? Shit...," you covered your face with your hands as sorrow washed over you.

"A dream?"

You nodded.

"When we saw our past selves and all of Tenjiku again?"

You tensed as your eyes popped open. "It wasn't a dream?! Oh thank god I'm not crazy," you sighed in relief.

Rindou shifted, straddling over you, beaming down at you like he's viewing the finest piece of art. He trails kisses from your Bonten tattoo over your right breast up to your lips, smiling with every smooch. "To prove it, I'm going to take good care of you and our baby."

"I know you will Rin."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Rindou awakens with a hard punch to the gut. "Cough, cough...the fuck was that for love?!" He sits up, ready to find you angry at him for whatever reason, but was met with a familiar face with a set of round glasses scowling at him.

"You better fucking get out if you know what's good for you. Or you won't be seeing this "love" of yours ever again!" He yelled.

Yawn "Rindou, keep it down! I need to get my nap in before the meeting—the fuck?! Why are there two of you in here...?"

Younger Rindou snapped his head at his older self, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt to see a matching tattoo only his brother and himself have. "What...the...hell?!!" His eyes widened, completely stunned. Never in his life did he ever think this to happen. This was something that only happens in movies.

Rindou clutched his abdomen, hissing from his younger self's gut punch. "Ok, here's the deal. I don't know how or why I got here. All I know is I need some painkillers and to get back to my pregnant wife."

"Wait...I-I'm married?" He gasped, stumbling in his steps.

"You're married and your wife is pregnant?!!"

Rindou nodded and crossed his arms. "Been with her for over ten years. You'll know who she is when you see her."

Ran's grumpy demeanor vanished at the whole revelation. He rushed over and squeezed Rindou in his arms. "I can't believe I'll be an uncle one day!"

Younger Rindou stood in the corner, thinking about who his future wife is considering he knows her. "Wait...is it—"

"Yes, it's her. She's the best woman a man could have."

"Well Rin-Rin, I was right to nudge you two together."

"Shut up Ran..."

[avonne-writes]

do you think you could do #8 “Who did this to you?” From your reblog. Maybe like In the stalag when Bucky shows up and goes to give Gale a hug but Gale flinches away. Bucky is immediately worried and try’s to get Gale to spill but it doesn’t work. Blah blah blah, Bucky might see Gale interact with a guard and understands why. Idk take it your own way if you want 😅

Thank you for the prompt! 💕 Sorry for only getting to it now. I went with a different take, but I hope you like it!

8. Who did this to you?

After stumbling inside their quarters at Thorpe, Bucky tries to make his way to his bed blindly in the dark. He counts his steps to measure a distance he knows well by now, but the haze of booze makes his brain sluggish, and the numbers get all jumbled up. Nevertheless, he finds the frame of his cot, locates it with fumbling hands, and lets himself sink down on the mattress with a relieved sigh.

Except, it’s not his cot.

He lands on something simultaneously soft and bony, and gets kneed in the ribs so hard for it that he falls on his ass. Groaning, he gives in to gravity and goes limp on the floor.

"John?" Gale whispers somewhere above him. When Bucky grunts in response, one of their other roommates hisses a shut up their way. "What are you doing?"

"Sleeping." Bucky replies. He feels rather comfortable where he is. At least the room isn’t spinning. Down here, nothing wants to crawl back out of his stomach to show him exactly how much whiskey he poured down his throat to wipe their last mission from his memory.

Slim, warm hands pat at Bucky's chest, trying to locate his shoulders in the dark. When they find a good place to grip and try to pull Bucky up, Bucky turns his head and nips at Gale’s wrist.

"Come on, you big loony." Gale murmurs, completely ignoring the fact that Bucky's mouth is full of the cotton of his shirt. His teeth dig into Gale's arm. Out of curiosity, Bucky bites down harder, until Gale yanks his arm away with an annoyed huff.

"Son of a bitch." He swears under his breath, but a moment later, his hands return. They hook under Bucky's armpits to pull him up by force. "Up. On your feet, Major."

"Don’t want to." Bucky whines.

As soon as Gale gets him vertical, he starts moving to lie right back down, and finds the bed Gale has just vacated. It’s still warm from Gale’s body. He sinks into that heat with a smile, squirming until the dip Gale's body left in the mattress fits his own. Like coming home. His drunken mind imagines it would be just as comforting to climb inside Gale's body. To be one with him. Always welcome, always safe.

"All right." Gale's tired exhale brushes Bucky's ear as Gale leans over him and tugs the blanket out from under his body to drape it over him. Tucking him in like his mama would've. Or a wife.

"Should've left me on the floor." Bucky sniffs. The urge to cry makes his throat tight, but he holds it back. He’s a man, damn it.

"What kind of best friend would that make me, huh?" Gale murmurs softly. He’s so close still. His hands are on Bucky’s back and arm. He should lean in for a goodnight kiss, Bucky thinks. "Go to sleep, Bucky."

"'S your bed."

"You can borrow it tonight."

Fingers run through Bucky’s curls, a ghost of a touch, then there's nothing. Bucky turns his head into Gale's pillow because it smells like him. He falls asleep in a minute.

-

Morning arrives with a dull, heavy pain behind Bucky's eyes that he welcomes like an old friend. Most fellas get cranky when they're hungover, but it just makes Bucky feel alive. It seems as if fewer and fewer things do. Drinking. Singing, dancing, flirting. Gale.

Speaking of - Bucky should find him. Yes, that sounds like the perfect hangover cure. Getting teased by his best friend.

Still fully-clothed and wearing his boots, Bucky climbs out of bed - Gale's bed, he notes, sifting through his blurry memories from last night and coming up blank when he tries to explain it. He figures he might have tried to get in beside Gale, who thought it was better to just surrender his cot. Bucky ought'a thank him for not kicking him out to sleep on the floor.

He finds Gale by the small sink they all share, just finishing up with shaving. He’s stripped down to his undershirt and his hair is not yet slicked back with product but falls over his forehead in soft bangs. It makes him look younger. Pretty, even, if Bucky were being honest. He tries not to be though. Wouldn’t do him any good.

Grinning with all his charm, he walks up to Gale and leans on the wall beside him, his free hand in his pocket. "Hey, Buck."

"Morning." Gale says without looking away from the mirror, but there’s a small smile in the corner of his lips as he slides the blade over his skin.

Bucky has the strangest urge to offer to do the last few swipes for him. "Thanks for the bed."

"You’re welcome." Gale's voice is amused. Although there's a shadow of exhaustion under his eyes, he looks happy, so Bucky feels safe to joke around a bit.

When Gale rinses the blade and starts wiping his face, Bucky nudges him with his foot. In return, Gale flicks water at him, which tickles Bucky into a short laugh. For the first time this morning, Gale's blue eyes meet his and give him a playful look.

"You look like that chow they used to feed us back in Texas." There it is. The teasing.

Bucky grins. "Delicious, you mean?"

For a moment that steals Bucky's breath away, Gale just holds his gaze, but then he turns back to the mirror to comb his hair. "Not the word I'd use."

That's when Bucky notices the bruise on Gale’s forearm. Without thinking, he grabs Gale's hand and pulls it closer to get a better look at the mark. It’s circular, red and purpling in some places, about the width of a set of teeth. A bite mark. When Bucky brushes his thumb over it, Gale’s fingers twitch in his hold.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" Bucky asks with a frown. His protective anger rises behind the wall of confusion in his mind. It’s a fresh bruise, can't be more than a day old. Did Gale get up to something while Bucky was at the pub yesterday?

Gale uses his free hand to hike his trousers higher up his slim waist, shifting in place, but he doesn’t move the hand Bucky's holding to examine the bruise. He just stares at it, cheeks pinking. He’s standing close enough that all Bucky can smell is his aftershave, fresh on his smooth face.

"I reckon it was one of those bed-stealing fellas around here." He drawls.

Bucky swipes his thumb over the mark again distractedly before realization hits him.

"Did I do this?" He asks, horrified. When Gale hums yes, it’s like a rock of guilt falling right on Bucky’s heart. He lets go of Gale's hand and rubs his palm over his own face. His hangover swells into a wave of nausea he swallows back down. "Shit. I'm sorry, Buck. Can’t even remember."

"It was good whiskey, huh?" Gale smiles and picks up the towel he wiped his face with earlier. When Bucky gives him an apologetic look, he swats at him with it. "It’s fine, John."

A memory hits Bucky like a bucketful of ice. Back in flight school, on one of their first longer leaves, Gale actually went home to see his Ma in Wyoming because she was bedridden with a chest cold, and they feared she might pass. She made it through, but for what good, Bucky isn't sure, because Gale rarely ever writes her and hasn’t been to Casper since.

But that one time, he visited his parents. Bucky won't forget how it went anytime soon. The first day Gale came back to base, he was sporting a fading shiner on his right cheek. Dark blue pain under pale skin. He clammed up about how he got it, but Bucky prodded, kept asking the same question, who did this to you? Until Gale confessed that he had a fight with his father. The man was drunk. But it's fine, John, Gale told him, pursing his lips. Nothing that won't heal.

Discomfort ripples through Bucky, bitter on his tongue and heavy in his heart. Gale's smiling now, unlike that day in flight school, but there are too many similarities. Bucky has to, he needs to make it better.

"I didn’t mean to hurt you." He says sincerely.

"I know." Gale nods.

Bucky bites his lip. He can’t think of anything else to make it clearer that he’s nothing like Gale's bastard of a father. There’s so little he can give. He has nothing to offer but his company. "Let me make it up to you. Come to London with me. We could both use a break. Let's go paint the town red."

The tip of Gale's pink tongue pokes out between his lips for a second as he considers it. Instinctively, Bucky's gaze drops to the motion before he looks back to Gale's eyes again. "I don't know about that."

There's a wariness in his voice that wasn’t there before. Bucky hates it. He doesn’t know what put it there, but he wants it gone. He claps a hand on Gale's elbow and gives him a friendly squeeze. "Come on. We can go look at all the sights you wanna see, then I'll take you to a pub and buy you the best ginger beer you've ever had."

Gale gives him a lopsided smile. "Is that a bet?"

Bucky smirks. "A promise." He moves to take Gale's place at the sink, but Gale doesn’t step back immediately, which puts their faces so close to each other that for a split second, Bucky imagines crossing the remaining distance. "Tell you what. We could even split the hotel costs."

A fond light shines in Gale's eyes. He steps away with a chuckle and throws the towel at Bucky. "Go wash your face, Egan."

Grinning, Bucky opens the tap and does just that. That wasn’t a no, he notes. Excitement tingles in his limbs. His blood pumps warm joy through his body with every heartbeat. He has never felt more alive than this, but he wonders if he could. And if yes... would London do the trick?

[rav1377]

Goodnight Loving Trail

cowboy!John Price x fem!reader (ranch au)

put my whole Texas behind into this one…if it’s too technical for y’all lemme know. my family has experience cattle ranching so i have knowledge on this subject and if i wrote something that you’re looking like “what the hell is she talking about.” LET ME KNOW! if you’d like something more visual for the calf stuff, i HIGHLY recommend watching the Houston Rodeo reruns of team calf roping AND tie down roping, all on YouTube! i know it may seem harsh as you read this, but the cows aren’t being hurt.

tw:kissing in this one, comfort, father getting sicker, dementia, not taking pills, ranch work, etc etc etc NOTE: reader does reference something of John’s as “bigger than hers”, NOT a reference to readers size/weight, merely a JOKE, it’s a JOKE. I do NOT mean to offend anyone or make them feel this fanfic is not for them. reader is reader, meaning YOU!!! if you feel that im inaccurately writing or not being inclusive, LET ME KNOW! I will try to fix it! That being said, I’ve written these as if I was the reader, and I am personally a little chunkier! But if you don’t like this, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF THAT IS GOOD INFORM ME. -cass 💕:D

the cool Texas morning rolls in on the east wind, and the oak trees shift and move in the early hours of the morning. you lie awake in bed, on your side, and face the open window. your pa isn’t getting better and refuses to take his pills. the cows haven’t been worked in days. the fields need tending to. the garden has weeds over growing and strangling your other plants. the barns need to be prepared for winter. the goats and sheep need to be checked. the dogs need to be fed. the perimeter needs to be rerun. the fence on the west side needs to be fixed. the pipes are leaky and need new pieces. the roof is old and crumbling, needing new shingles. everything is falling apart to you. you sigh and sit up as your clock hits 4:30am. maybe with John here things will be different. you didn’t want to admit you needed his help, but you do.

you stretch and try to get the sleep in your eyes away. the wardrobe in the corner of your room is open and you reach for a pair of worn jeans and socks, slipping them on slowly. your belt comes on next, followed by an old tee shirt. walking to the bathroom, you turn the old sink on and brush your teeth thoroughly before splashing some cool water on your face. a hair brush pulls hair from your face and into a ponytail. the mirror sits in front of you and you don’t want to look. all you’ll see is a tired girl trying to keep a farm together, bags under her eyes, exhaustion clear. sighing you turn off the light and slip down the hallway. John’s rooms light is on and you hear him moving around. you’d told him to be ready at 5 to help with the morning chores and you smile, pleased he’s ready to work.

the stairs creak slightly as you walk down to the kitchen, pulling out bread and eggs. John comes down not even five minutes later. “mornin’.” he rumbles, deep morning voice present. you nod and buck your head to the toaster. “morning. could you put some bread in there for breakfast?” you ask. he’s quick to follow your orders, promptly entering two slices in before pressing the button down. he watches as you make scrambled eggs, adding a bit of salt and pepper. the toaster pops, and he places a piece on each plate that you already laid out. you turn back to him, eggs done, and serve portions onto each. you place a bigger clump of eggs on his and his eyebrows furrow. “no no, put some back on yours.” you roll your eyes. “John i have plenty on my plate. i made the extra for you on purpose.” orange juice is poured into cups as the two of you sit down. John’s miffed for him getting more than you. his father always told him to make sure his wife always got plenty of food before eating each meal, to make sure she was provided for. of course you weren’t his wife but he thought the philosophy still applied. you did seem okay with your meal, but it still rubbed him a bit wrong.

your sweet voice cuts through the chewing of food. “we have a lot to do.” you whisper, head drooping. “that’s what i came for.” John says, looking at you. “tell me what needs to be done.” he says, putting down his fork after his last bite. “well the priority is the cows. calfing season is coming up and we have a lot of heifers that are having their first babies. so we need to check and work them today.” he nods as you talk, taking a sip of his juice. your thigh is pressed against his and he watches as your hands move with everything you say. “we should also start to prepare the crop fields. we need those to get through the winter. and if we can squeeze it in, start on the barns.” you finally finish, head resting in your hands. “there’s so much to do John and I don’t have the time or means to do it on my own.” you whisper. tears prick at the corner of your eyes as your voice begins to shake. his chest hurts, distraught that you’re so stacked with things to do. “it’ll be okay. we can start on a bunch of the work today.” he tries to console you, hand resting on your back. “these aren’t one day jobs, they’ll take days.” you murmur, head back up. your eyes are far off and filled with worry. “it’ll be okay. y’ever thought about getting more help?” he says. you shake your head. “i don’t need help.” you say firmly, eyes coming to reality again. John sighs in his head. always stubborn. that’s what he remembers most about you from school. you’re hard to change, and when you found something you stood for, you dug your heels in like an anchor. “well we can still get a lot of this done today.” he says, rising from the nook in the kitchen. he takes the plates and glasses, rinsing them in the sink. you nod, eyes stinging. you stand and pull a pill box from the counter, writing something on a sticky note before placing the box on the table. John watches from the sink. “my dads meds.” you explain. he nods and returns to the dishes. “he refuses to take them, he’s just being stubborn.” you growl out. “reminds me of you.” he says, but his eyes are filled with something that you can’t put your finger on. you sigh and look away, headed to the back door.

pulling on your boots, you slip a jacket on to brace the cool fall air. John follows suit and you throw work gloves into your pocket. grabbing your hat, you open the door and walk out to what you call the shed. John follows close behind, steps heavy on the wet grass. the shed isn’t a shed, rather a large barn where you hold everything that you need for work. the tractors, mules, and atvs all sit out in here, waiting to be used. you’ll check cattle first though, and you prefer to be on horses for that so you can get really close to the cattle. “you know how to ride?” you ask, walking over to the tack room that’s connected to the stables. John hums in affirmation, still taking in the room. “good.” you say, walking into the much smaller tack room. you pull off a saddle blanket and saddle before kicking open the door to the stable. your horse Big Red sits on the right stall, chuffing like he’s waiting for you. you smile and throw the saddle over to sit on the fence. Oliver sits in the stable to the left, nickering at the commotion. John walks in behind you, saddle and blanket in hand. “this one okay for me to use?” he asks, showing you. you nod and return to Red, entering his pen. “you’ll ride Oliver today.” you jut your chin out at the large black horse. Oliver was named after Oliver Loving, co-creator of the Goodnight-Loving cattle trail. another black horse in a pen is Charles, named after Charles Goodnight. your father had bought them when you were fourteen, a rare pair of twin brothers. Big Red is your most recent baby though. you bought him as a foal when you had just turned 18, a sort of birthday gift to yourself. his brown-red coat gleamed in the sun and reminded you of the mountains of Arizona and New Mexico.

you enter the stall and throw the blanket and then saddle over your horse, securing it with the straps and belts. you hear John do similar across the room. you walk back to the tack room before bringing out a bridle and harness, then grab a lasso rope before calling out to John the things he’d need. “we’re not completely sure if premie calves have been born so we’ll take some rope just in case.” John nods and returns to the tack room to get his own supplies. you needed a saddle bag for the tag piercer and anything else you might need to work cows, including some water for you and John. some chaps sit in the tack room and you pull your pair on over your jeans, leaning over to fasten the clasps. you hear John’s steps behind you coming into the room and you stand, pointing to where some extra pairs lay. “see if any of those fit you, might be a little tight though. they were my dads.” you say and he nods, pulling on a beaten navy blue pair. they are a little tight, and squeeze his thighs, but aren’t too uncomfortable. when the two of you are finally ready, you open Red’s pen and walk him out into the pasture before mounting him. John follows, but Oliver is playing a joke on the new man, moving every time John tries to bring his right leg over his back, causing him to stumble. you watch, amused, as John tries to get on him again. this time, Oliver moves a good three feet, and John falls right on his butt. you laugh, pressing a hand to your mouth. he looks up to you from the ground. “oh this is funny?” he asks, eyebrows raised. you nod, wheezing. his eyes dance with playfulness as he grasps Oliver’s reins. you walk Red over there, barricading Oliver’s right side so he can’t move. John’s successful this time, and snugly fits into the saddle. “ride ahead to that gate. well go to the Dawn pasture first.” he nods. you watch and follow behind him as he guides Oliver where you directed. his strong legs grip the sides of the horse before resting his feet in the stirrups. eyes trailing upward, you can’t help but look at his ass that’s snug in the saddle. you smirk and look away. he’s got a fatter ass than me you think to yourself.

when you reach the gate, you explain how the farm works. 3 large pastures, each over 100 acres. the Dawn pasture, the Grant pasture, and the Conner pasture. the names help everyone keep track, though unusual. they were the last names of the men your pa worked with in the mines, killed in a mine collapse in Wyoming. Dawn pasture is where you keep a lot of the heifers and young cows, along with sheep or goats if you have them some years. Grant pasture keeps the more seasoned cows and bulls, ones that won’t be too crazy. Connor pasture is the biggest and roughest. Clearwater lake sits on the front part of the pasture that faces the house, and the albeit small Watson mountain ranges sits in the bag. Watson mountain range isn’t really a mountain, but this is Texas land and it does what it wants. it encapsulates the northwest side of the property and the land is rocky and tall, hard to navigate. mountain lions and coyotes roam the area, but you let some cows roam near the lake. they’re smart enough not to venture too close to the mountains. you have three crops that you grow; corn, cotton, and wheat. four if you count the hay field. the corn crop sits in front of the main house while the wheat field sits in front of Connor pasture. the cotton field is relatively small, and is snuggled between the horse pasture and the corn barn. the hay field is nestled between the grant and Connor pasture, and sits diagonal from the main house. that’s all John really needs to know for now, and you unlock the gate, riding into Dawn pasture.

heifers are roaming the hills, grazing at the grass. some of them aren’t pregnant with their first calves but most are. you silently do a rough count of them as you and John ride side by side. one sticks out. an early calf. you have to be careful with these, needing to check and watch over them because they’re a bit early. you look at John and gesture with your hands at the calf. “we need to tag that one.” you call, separating from John. he immediately picks up what you mean and rides to the right side of where the momma cow and the baby are. you turn off to the left as you get closer, pull your cattle stick from the hook on Red’s saddle. the mother is on the left side of the calf, staying close to her baby. John pulls off his rope and swings it slowly in his left hand, legs guiding Oliver on their own. you nod at him and start making noise, whooping lowly and clicking your tongue. the mom sees you now and turns to face you. John creeps to the right and speeds up, moving to lasso the calf. the rope lands around its neck perfectly, and John tugs the rope to get the mom away from the calf. you ride between the gap, and dismount. the momma calf knows who you are though, and thankfully doesn’t make too much trouble, instead watching the situation closely. you walk slowly to the calf, John staying on Oliver. the little animal is panicking, crying for its mother. the momma calf moos at her child, trying to calm them. the momma cow paws at the ground and scrapes up dirt nervously. you pull open your saddlebag, pulling out the tag piercer and a new number ear tag. you walk to the little animal, calming it as you rub its stomach. you swing one leg over its side slowly, pressing her, you check in between your legs. you’ve found that similar to a cow chute, these calves are calmer when they’re squeezed. you make shushing noises as you bend over, pulling its head up gently so you can slip the tag through its ear with the piercer with a clear ca-chunk.

you throw off the lasso and release the cow to her mom, hearing her duck under her moms body. you smile and nod at John before walking back to your own horse. the two of you walk around and check the pasture, counting only one more premie and working it. the rest of your heifers are looking great, still healthy and round with their coming babies. the whole ordeal takes about 4 hours, and by the time you’re done it’s almost 10:00. as you ride back to the horse pasture John sighs. “well, we got that done in four hours, we started at six?” he asks. you nod, looking at the brunette man. “we’ll have to run those calves to the chute to get them their shots and register them.” you say. John slides off Oliver to open the gate to the horse pasture. “well use the horses again, but i need to run inside to check on my pa.” you say, dismounting after he closed the gate. you hand Big Red reins to him. “ill be right back.” you say, nodding. his blue eyes bare into yours and you stay silent. the walk back to the main house is silent and lonely. wish John was here. your mind unconsciously thinks and you scold yourself. you can’t be thinking about him like that. he’s a ranch hand, nothing more. the house is quiet when you walk in.

walking to the living room, your pa is sat in his normal armchair, watching some news channel. “pa?” you ask, kneeling by him. “hello.” he says, finally looking at you. as you look up at him, you can see it in his face. he doesn’t recognize you. “hi.” you whisper. “what’s a nice young lady like you doing in my house?” he asks, sitting up straighter. “nothing sir, i’m just passing through.” you say, standing. “i have something for you.” he nods, rising as well. “you need to swallow these. do you understand that?” picking up your fathers pill box you open today’s day and hand them to your father. “swallow them with water or when you eat something, okay?” your pa nods and walks to the fridge. “well i’ll just swallow them right now then.” he says, pulling out the pitcher of sweet tea. you nod, eyes stinging as you pull him a cup. he doesn’t remember you. he pours himself a glass of tea and takes his pills. nodding, you walk back to the back door and pick up your hat from its hook. “you know, lemme tell you somethin’ girl. you look just like my wife Audrey.” he says, nodding as he sips his tea. “i bet she’s real pretty.” you whisper before walking out the back door.

John’s waiting for you like a loyal dog at the horse pasture. you climb back on your horse and John unlocks the gate. “you know how to team rope?” you ask as you ride side by side. “i do. i’m better at heading.” he says, voice gruff. it sends a shiver down your spine and you look away. in rodeo, team roping is one of the best events. two cowboys both with lassos, chase a cow. when they’re ready, they release those ropes, one trying to get the calf’s head, called a “header”. the other cowboy tries to get the calf’s legs or foot, called a “heeler”. that’s what you and John will be doing. it’s easier to get the calf immobilized so you can lead it back up to the cow chutes at the front of Dawn pasture than trying to get it there by herding alone. you don’t need the whole herd, just the two calves. luckily, you don’t have to go far. you can see the two calves from this morning with their moms and you head toward them. you pull off your lasso and John follows suit. he pulls a piggin string from his belt and tucks it between his teeth. as you spin the lassos, approaching, the calves are skittish, but you and John hook one successfully. his rope flies around the neck, tugging the calf to him and Oliver as you release yours, perfectly hooking on its rear left leg. Johns already off Oliver, turning the calf to tie its legs. when he finishes, he picks up the calf and rests it on top of his horse, sitting in front of him.

it’s your turn. you pull out your own piggin string and tuck it in between your teeth. John leads this one, blue eyes zeroing on the second calf. as you ride to it, swinging the ropes, John releases his, perfectly landing on the animals head, slowing it for you. you’re quick to release your own, roping both of its back legs, something challenging for heelers. you’ve only done it a handful of times. John lets out a whoop and a laugh as you dismount Red and wrap the calf’s legs together with the piggin string. “you ever done that before?” John calls to you, voice filled with excitement. “yeah, twice! and one of them the calf seemed like it was running through molasses.” you say, grinning up at him. hauling the young calf to your horse, you follow suit of John and place the calf across Big Red, sitting snug next to you so you can keep it safe. the two of you ride back in laughter, talking about what just happened, conversation flowing like wine. you can’t remember the last time you laughed so much. when John gets to the chute he enters the pen and pulls his calf with him, letting the thing run around in the pen. you follow suit, releasing your little calf. “want me to get them in the chute?” he asks from inside the pen. nodding, you walk up to chute controls, opening it for the first calf. John’s clicking his tongue and holds his arms out to herd one into the chute. the skittish one runs in instantly, and you close the door on the young calf to keep him trapped. he moos at you and you nod, pulling out the shot kit you keep in a storage box by the chute. “i know i know.” you say, continuing to babble back at the young cow as he bellows at you. they’re like your children really, you talk like they’re grown and can understand you. preparing the dosage, you come to the side of the chute before pressing the needle into it’s skin. the cow chuffs and rattles inside the chute. pulling out a clipboard, you fill out a registration form for the calf, including his new number and vet information. you pull open the lever for the chute and the young cow runs back down the fence line, back into Dawn pasture. John herds the second calf next, she seems to be the more stubborn one. she’s escaping John’s arms and refuses to move when he waves at her. you chuckle. “come on John! i thought you were a cowboy!”you call, leaning over the fence to watch him struggle. he growls something at you, and finally guides the calf into the chute. you hit the lever and the cow stops. preparing another shot, you carefully inject her before registering her as you did the other. John’s huffing and breathing hard as he comes to stand next to you. when you release the cow you face him. “worn out because of a little calf?” you tease, smiling up at him. he shakes his head, still out of breath. his face is flushed, and his chest moves rapidly under his white shirt. you laugh and pat him on the left side of his chest before walking back to the horses. you mount yours and John follows suit. it’s almost noon as you finish tacking away the horses and gear. the house is loud, some old music playing on the radio your pa listens to. “there’s sandwich stuff for lunch if that’s okay.” you offer, going to the fridge to pull out the pitcher of tea and some strawberries. John nods and pulls out bread. you pull ham and cheese out of the fridge as well, trying to balance it all. the packet of ham starts to slip out of your arms but John catches it. “thanks.” you smile at him and place the contents on the counter. as you stand side by side and make lunch, someone watches from the hall.

your father leans on his cane, but stands deathly still as he watches the scene. you’re smiling again. laughing. like some invisible burden was raised from your shoulders and you can be young again. it reminds him of his Audrey. they used to stand in the kitchen, making dinner together, dancing around the hardwood floor. he’s got so many regrets. he should’ve married Audrey sooner. should’ve had his family when he was younger. instead he waited until he was an old man, back tired and sore from the mines. now he’s older and has trouble remembering. remembering his daughter. he doesn’t want to leave you alone. hours spent in a collapsed mine surrounded by the corpses of his friends haunt him of that at night. the thought of his wife bleeding out on the street alone after being shot wake him up from sleep. that’s partially why he put in an ad. hoped that whatever ranch hand out here (after he made sure they were safe and hard working) would help after he died. maybe have some compassion and help you with the funeral before moving on. you’d be able to move away with the money from his will and from the land. go to the city. but he was a young man once. sees the glint in that boys eyes when you laugh. hears the way you laugh. maybe that boy would stick around. for good.

John and you eat out on the back porch. a swing sits on and faces the pastures, and the combination of the rocking, the breeze flowing down the hills, and the good meal you just ate is making you sleepy. John’s shoulder presses against yours as he eats. his eyes are wide and take in the scenery as he takes another bite of strawberry. you smile and relax your shoulders, placing the plate to the right of you. eyes drooping, you don’t even feel yourself drift off to sleep.

John feels a weight on his bicep. you’re leaning on him, eyes shut and arms crossed over your chest. he slows his feet that are pushing the chair and stills. the plate and sandwich in his lap are left discarded, and he slowly licks off strawberry juice from his fingers before relaxing. he could sit while you napped. wouldn’t move an inch. you were probably tired. it’d been a long day and the weather was only getting warmer, cicadas clicking in the distance. jackets had long been left inside and hats hung on their hooks for later use. your nose lets out little puffs of air, and your body begins to really relax. your shoulders go completely limp and your body leans forward more, unable to hold itself up. so John tucks you under his right arm. moving slow, he shifts so your left thigh is almost on top of his right and your back leans into his chest. his right hand searches for a place to sit and tentatively rests on your right hip. the breeze floats through the porch, soothing the both of you. John’s eyes flutter closed and stay closed.

it’s mid afternoon when you begin to stir. you feel something heavy slung over your hip as your eyes open. the porch sits in front of you along with someone’s wide legs. you sit up slowly, taking in the environment. looking to your left, John’s asleep, head tipped back against the porch swing. snores leave his mouth and drool runs down the right sound of his mouth. his plate sits in his lap, half of a sandwich left over. his hand is the one on your hip and you try to stand, blushing. his hand tightens and pulls on your waist before you finally escape his grasp. you’re sure your face is flushed as you straighten your shirt and pick up both discarded plates. leaving him on the porch, you walk inside and rinse them both, looking out the window that overlooks the land. your father comes up behind you. “y’all worked hard this morning.” he says, coming to get a drink of water. you nod, scrubbing at the plates with soap. “he’s a fine worker. good man.” your father remarks, taking a sip before walking to pull a chair from the breakfast nook. you nod along again, drying the plates with a rag. “y’all work together well.” he says, looking at you directly. you hum, placing the ceramic plates in the cabinet. “yeah. got work done quick today.” you say before grabbing your hat and placing it on your head. you pick up John’s as well, knowing he’ll want it. “we’re going to go check the fields. start on the hay one.” you say, looking back at your pa. for the first time in a while, you see him. he looks old, hair graying and bones weak. he smiles at you still, just like he did when you were a kid. “okay sunflower. i’ll be here.” he says, and you slip out the back door. gazing where John sleeps, your mind turns. you shouldn’t do it. shouldn’t let him get close. you think back to your high school days, when you’d exchange glances at each other in the halls. flitting stares in class. his eyes straining to see you as he stood on the football field on game days. you’d hoped there’d be something between the two of you then, but it never happened. that was 5 years ago. not long at all, but to you it was. you stare at his sleeping form for a few moments more. his large chest rises slowly as he snores, and you look down. you shouldn’t. you won’t. but at the same time, it’s John. you’d smiled more than you have in the past year, laughed more than you have in the past three. you’re not sure what to make of the feelings in your chest, but you know John’s the cause of it.

you step in front of him, and rub his left shoulder. “John.” you say, pulling him upward a bit. “John. we have more work to do. John.” you say all of this softly, and his eyes flicker open, head raising to look at you. his hairs tussled and sticks up, blue eyes blinking blearily at you. drool clings to the side of his mouth and you smirk. “wipe your face.” you say before putting his hat on his head and walking to the Shed.

the first thing John hears is your sweet voice saying his name like it means something. he blinks his eyes open, your pretty eyes look down at his, hair looking perfect beneath your hat. he’s caught up in you, your soft lips and face with a healthy dose of warmth on them. “wipe your face.” is all he hears before you’re placing his hat on his head and walking off. he scrambles up and jogs after you, porch swing rattling in the process. he does what he’s told though, wiping dried drool off his mouth before catching up with you. opening the door to the Shed, you pull keys for an atv four wheeler. “we should go check the hay field.” you say, walking to the garage door, hitting the controls to open the large thing. “you okay with riding on the same one?” you ask. “kind of forgot to fill up the other one…” your voice trails off and you rub the back of your neck. that really was on you. John couldn’t care less, nodding as you walk back over. he watches you swing your leg over and lean to the front of the vehicle before turning over the engine. John didn’t account for being so close to you though. as he swings one leg over, the front of your thighs become flush with the backs of yours. he tries to keep himself leaned back, not touching you at all with his hands. “good.” he says gruffly and you nod, pulling out of the Shed. the drive to the hay field thankfully isn’t too bad. John’s more focused on the way your thighs touch his. as you slow to the fence of the field you nod at him, and he gets off to unlock the gate. basically a universal ranch rule. the youngest or the grunts get the gate. right now, he’s the grunt, so he gets the gate. as he pulls it open, you ride through and idle, waiting for him to get back on. “you can leave it open! we’ll be back.” you call over the rumble of the engine, and he climbs back onto the vehicle. a worn down path cuts through the middle and you ride down it, eyes scanning. John leans in closer and you feel his stomach touch your lower back. “what are we looking for?” he shouts so you can hear him. “animals, bull nestle, any odd plants, vultures, or large groups of bugs!” you yell back. John leans away at that, his eyes start scanning.

you’re riding the permiter of the fence now, looking out at the field to the left. just then, something catches John’s eye in the air. his right hand darts to your shoulder and his left points upwards. “there!” he says, and you slow before taking a path cutting through the field to the left. a vulture is circling around something on the ground, floating in the air. finally you see it. a dead coyote laying in the patch of grass. the vultures don’t scare and continue to pick at the dead animal. you turn off the engine and reach down by the bottom of the atv to pull off the rifle strapped there. leaning the barrel over the seat of the atv, you aim carefully before you have the vulture picking at the animal in sights. John crouches next to you quietly, soft breath hitting your shoulder. you exhale and take the shot.

dead on. John’s impressed as the vulture falls to the ground and you’re quick to aim for the one in the sky, holding the barrel still for all of two seconds before another shot rings out. dead on. you’re like Annie Oakley or something. he watches you rise and strap the gun back to the atv. “pop the seat, there’s some trash bags in there.” you say before pulling on your work gloves. he pulls the bags out before he’s pulling his own work gloves from his back pocket and tugging them on. like the chaps, they’re a little tight but not terribly bad. the two of you walk to the animals, John helping maneuver the coyote and vulture into the bag before picking up the other dead vulture that’s a few feet away. “this all looks fresh so the grass should be okay.” you say as you walk back. John ties the bag into a bungee cord on the back plastic part of the atv before you drive, ready to check the rest of the field. thankfully, everything else is clear, grass healthy and tall. Itll be time to bale it soon. the sun is getting lower in the sky when you’re finally done. dinners next. the house is quiet, your pa reading a book in the breakfast nook. “hey pa.” you say, taking off your hat and resting it on a hook. he looks up and grunts. “i was going to make mac n’ cheese with some chicken we have. that okay?” you ask, not really directing the question to anyone. John nods at you while your father speaks up, always something sarcastic to say. “you ask that like you’ll cook something else.” he grins. rolling your eyes, you pull out the ingredients, laying them on the counter. “well no, but it’s polite to ask, ain’t it?” you counter. your pa huffs and returns to his book.

everyone’s laughing at dinner. John told your father of how you roped both legs of a calf today and the older man brought up the time you tried to do that as a girl with a much bigger bull, and got thrown straight off your horse when the bull ran. you’d gotten thrown into the mud, completely dirtied, but you didn’t let go of the rope, held right onto it until one of the other men in the ring picked you up. even then, you were screaming like the devil, trying to get that bull. Johns eyes danced with light, and they flitted to you with every laugh. your pa was grinning like a cheshire cat, letting out wheezing laughs. you felt your face flush as you smiled into your lap, shoulders shaking as you suppressed laughter.

your pa helped you with dishes today, bones feeling good to stand. he laughed and teased you about things that happened when you were a girl. “you were such a pretty baby. cutest cheeks on earth. I thought you were the most beautiful thing I ever saw.” he chuckles, drying off a plate. you smile and rinse silverware. he looks at you, placing a plate back in its stack. “you still are the most beautiful thing in my life, sunflower. my daughter.” his hand comes down on your shoulder and you smile at him. he pulls you in for a hug before pressing a kiss to your temple. “i’m going to bed.” he says, walking off onto the stairs. “goodnight! i’ll be back later, going to do the night chores!” you call, and he replies with a goodnight back. walking to the front door, you open it to see John sitting in a rocking chair, eyes looking at the setting sun. “hey. want to help me with the night chores?” you ask, walking to him slowly. his eyes look up at you, shining in the orange light of the sun. he nods and stands. “okay. well i usually go to the Shed first, we lock everything up and make sure the horses have hay for the night, then we go to the corn barn and make sure everything’s stored properly. we have some barn cats in there so we feed them as well.” you say, leading the way to the Shed.

John goes to check on the horses while you lock up the doors and check fuel levels on the vehicles. “they’re fed, got hay in the feeders. low on the troughs though.” he says, walking over to you. trying to ignore the way he just fills a room with his presence, you nod. “we’ll feed them in the morning. let’s go to the barn.” you say, trying to turn away from him. the walk is silent, and his hand brushes yours as you walk side by side. John walks slowly, basking in the day. you have no desire to make it go any faster, comfortable with the large man next to you. the corn barn is silent when you walk in, but two heads peek out behind a corner wall, mewling at you. “Matthew and Matilda.” you say, pointing at the cats. one is a white cat, dusting of brown fur along her back, and the other is a tawny color. “Mathew’s the tawny one.” you explain, walking over to a storage closet. pulling out the cat feed, you open a can and toss the other to John. “sometimes we spoil them with meat meat, but this is what they get for now.” Matilda walks over to you, rubbing on your legs as she purrs. when you place down her tin, she’s quick to dive in. Johns letting Matthew smell him, petting the cats head gently. Matthew whines when he smells the food and John smirks, placing it down on the ground. he rises, looking over to you. orange light still streams in from outside and an idea pops into your head. “cmon.” you say, turning to a set of stairs pushed on the side of the barn. the old steps hold your weight and when you get to the second level, you push open a door to the roof. you look back at John and smile, climbing up. when your feet are planted, you walk up the ton roof to the top, sitting on the flat part of the peak. John sits next to you, and looks out over the land. the view is better from here. the sun hits the grass and trees just right, and the painting of colors in the sky makes him feel at peace. he’s seen sunsets before of course, but never from here. never with you. your legs are stretched out in front of your and your hands sit on either side of the ground.

John’s fingers twitch. he shouldn’t. you’re his employer. you’re busy and don’t need this. you don’t like him. nothing happened when you were in highschool. he shouldn’t touch you like this. but something pulls at his heart.

you feel fingers brush your right hand, curling to hold your own. you flinch and look at John. what the hell is he doing. why is he touching you. oh my god he shouldn’t be touching you. but his hand is so nice. he’s treated you so well. he made you laugh. you still love him.

so maybe that’s why you don’t pull away from his touch. maybe that’s why you lean on his shoulder. maybe that’s why when his right hand comes to cup your cheek so you’re forced to look at him, you relent.

“is this okay?” he asks, thumb brushing your cheekbone. you feel yourself nod, mind to blank and heart racing too much to think. he slowly presses his lips against yours and you feel like your melting. it’s soft and sweet, he’s moving slow like he’s trying to savor it. your lips feel like they’re made to be against his, and you sigh his name against his lips. he pulls away and drops his hand, looking for a reaction from you. “still okay?” he asks. “yeah. ‘m okay.” you reply, leaning in to kiss him again. your lips press against the right side of his mouth, and they drift up to place one on his jaw. his sighs, and you’re placing your left hand on his bicep, gripping it as his hand drifts to your hip. he moves his head to catch your lips again, and the warm Texas sun makes the whole thing a little bit warmer.

you’re sneaking back to the house now. the sun had gone down significantly, but the purples and blues still lasted. John’s trailing behind you, hand clasping yours as you open the door. you sneak up the stairs and pause at the hallway between your two doors. he pulls you close, chest flush against his as he cups your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’ll see you in the morning.” he whispers before opening the door to his room. you nod, retreating to your own. as you go to the hall bathroom to shower, the warm water slows your mind down. slipping a nightgown over your head, you tug it down before brushing your teeth. your hair is damp and tangled as you walk back to your room, shutting the door. you hear John’s footsteps into the bathroom, followed by the squeaky shower pipes. turning to your mirror, you brush out your hair before laying down in your bed. you’re still up a hour later, mind racing over the days events. so you creep out of bed, open your door, and open John’s. he’s snoring softly, blankets kicked down to his thighs. an old band shirt sits on his chest, hand pushing it up to expose his stomach. he’s hairy, dark hair covering so much of him. you see the dark happy trail snake under his belly button and down to the v-in his hips. his boxer shorts fit loose on his legs, and you shut the door behind you. walking to his bed, you climb in next to him, curling into his side. his eyes flutter open and once he sees you, he relaxes. “hey.” he whispers, pulling his arms around you. you whimper into his neck and he kisses your cheek. “everything okay?” he says, hand tracing down your back. you nod. “i wanted to be with you.” you admit softly, curling your hands into his hair. he chuffs and smiles, pulling the blanket to cover you both. “goodnight-lovie’” he whispers as he sees you close your eyes.

PHEW!!!! LONG CHAPTER!!! MY FINGERS HURT!!! SO GLAD ITS DONE!!!!! SMUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! SIMON IS COMING NEXT!!!

-cass💕:D

[writerastray]

So... can we still be together? { affection part 3 }

General Masterlist - Read this before interacting

Disclaimer:

⚠︎ My works are all protected. I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share my work.

⚠︎ My work is only appropriate for adults over the age of 18. Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked.

-> Word count: 5k

-> Relationships: Lee Minho/afab!Reader

-> Rating: 18+ → Mature/Explicit

->Genre/Tropes: Romance, Angst (a little bit?), Fluffy (do people use these tags?), Smut. Other Additional Tags to Be Added. (Spoiler tags: Something more than friends to Lovers?)

-> Warning tags: Explicit Sexual Content. Other Additional Tags to Be Added.

Final part of Affection.

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You woke up with the taste of Minho lingering on your tongue. 

After you returned last night, Hyunjin and Felix were nowhere to be found, but you couldn't care less, not when you knew Minho was still behind you, painfully hard. 

You remember how surprised he was when you pulled him to your room, how he smiled when you asked if he'd let you suck him. 

The way he kissed you and begged in a whisper for your lips around him. His sounds, divine as your tongue swirled on his cock; his cum in your mouth; his languid kiss as he, at last, said goodnight. 

Turning in your bed, the faint light danced through the curtains, a gentle breeze whispered through the open window. The room was silent, save for the distant chirping of birds outside.

You wished Minho were behind you, as in the many mornings you spent together, his nose nuzzling your neck as he slept softly, his warmth comforting you.

There's no denying it now—you have feelings for Minho, regardless of what you may still feel for Felix. Your heart still raced at the thought of Minho, still yearned to hear his voice, still wanted to share your thoughts with him. You love when he understands you, when he sees all your secrets. His touch weakened your knees; and you cherished every moment spent with him—the laughing, the teasing, the flirting.  

In some moments, it feels like you've fallen out of lust, and into love with him.

But will you confess? Fear holds you back, and you don't know how to take the first step. 

Want to keep reading? You can check it out on my AO3—just click this link to continue: So... can we still be together?🖤

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Author's note: Hi! I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.

Did you enjoy this? If so, please reblog it. Thank you for reading! Sending love 💕

Copyright © 2023 by Writerastray.

[portgasdwrld]

hiii could you write about how the monster trio would take care of you when you get drunk?? thank you so much!!

Hiiii! Yess of course 😫

📂 OP men+ taking care of drunk reader

Featuring: Zoro & Sanji

Warning: fluff, established relationships

Note: I couldn’t find any inspiration for Luffy😭 hope you still enjoy it for the others 💕 I think Sanji is officially the character I love to write the most. He’s just so 🧎🏻‍♀️my writing just go so easy with him🙁

Zoro

Zoro knew you were out of it when you were laughing at whatever the hell was Luffy and Chopper doing. You weren’t simply giggling at their silly behaviour like usual, no.. you were holding into your stomach with teary eyes as if it was the funniest show of your life.

He knew he had to intervene when he saw you grab a pair of chopsticks (his) and were about to imitate their immature behaviour.

“You are no fuunnn, babee” you whined while pouting at him and trying to grab the chopsticks back. Your attempt was sadly not successful and you only ended up tripping on Zoro. He grabbed your waist, stopping you from falling completely on him and quietly made you sit back next to him.

“You will thank me tomorrow and those were mines by the way” he retorted while drinking down the bottom of your bottle and waving his chopsticks.

“Hey! My bottle!” You screamed a bit too loudly grabbing people’s attention for few seconds. You frowned and turned your body away from your boyfriend with crossed arms over your chest.

“Come on don’t be upset, you are already drunk” he chuckled as he caressed one of your hips with his tanned hands.

“I’m definitely not drunk” You snapped back at him turning your body in his direction now. He pulled softly your arms away from your chest and pecked your forehead.

“You are, it’s just the truth” He continued amused as he watched your annoyed expression. When you get drunk, you get frustrated so much quicker and he often had his little fun with it. He loved teasing you, so when you looked at him with the small fire in your eyes, he couldn’t help himself.

“Alright let’s get you to bed, before you actually shove chopsticks up your nose” he announced with a teasing smirk. He will for sure annoy you with that when you get to your senses tomorrow.

“Why!?? The party just started!! You are such a party pooper” you tried to run away from him and yelled at Nami for help, but Zoro pulled you down by your shirt with his usual stern expression. You two stared at each other in silence. You squinted your eyes at him and poked his large chest with your finger.

“We aren’t leaving, because I am not drunk. So now leave me alone.” You declared full of seriousness… well in your head, because to Zoro you were barely even making sense with your words. It took him a moment to get what you told him and he simply rolled his eyes. He stood up and signalled you to do the same. With a huff, you stood up and grabbed his hand. You leaned your head on his big arm.

“My head is starting to hurt” you mumble with a shy blush.

“I know, let’s take care of you”

He somewhat found his way to your shared room which is somewhat a miracle (you showed him the way with what little sense you had left)

He helped you remove your clothes because he knew you hate sleeping with uncomfortable clothes.

He didn’t bother making you wear a pyjama because it was too much trouble. So you went to sleep in your underwear like you often do with him anyway.

He made you drink a glass of water to help ease the headache. When you leaned over his body for a second, he was sure you were gonna vomit on him, but you ended up burping, earning a chuckle of him. He thought it was funny lmao, because he really believed he was gonna have to clean up vomit at this late hour.

He watched you snuggle yourself into the bed and looking at him with waiting eyes.

He joined you shortly after and made you lay your head on his bare chest as his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“Goodnight Zoro~” you whispered with closed eyes and a yawn.

He hummed as he closed his eye and let his body give up to sleep.

Sanji

“My love ?” Your head jerked in his direction as his sweet voice called you.

“Yes Sanji?” You asked him with a faint smile.

“What are you doing..?” He asked you concerned. You looked at him a little confused.

“I’m washing my face before going to sleep?”

“Chérie…this is the kitchen” He finally pointed out while exhaling a cloud of smoke and throwing away his cigarette. He put the plates on the counter and looked at your confused expression.

“And this is the soap for the dishes, Y/N, not for your pretty face.” You didn’t have a single thoughts behind your eyes so you just stared at him. He softly grabbed your wet hands away from the sink. Your face still had soap so he opened one of the drawer and pulled out of a new towel. He started to clean your face from the soap after wetting the towel with water.

“You are really something when you get drunk” he broke the silence. You watched his familiar lips curve into a smile. You imitated then and looked up at him with big eyes.

“I felt sleepy, but you know I need to do my skincare before going to bed…” you explained in a small voice while grabbing his vest with both of your hands. Sanji looked at your eyes and pecked your lips.

“I know, darling. Just let me know next time, alright? I wouldn’t want something bad to happen to you” He retorted with a gentle but serious tone. He truly cared for you and didn’t want anything bad to happen to you while his eyes weren’t watching.

“Okay!” You quickly agreed with a peck on his hairy chin. It tickled a little your lips earning a slight chuckle from you. Sanji blushed and kissed your lips, tasting the alcohol you had earlier with everyone. You kissed him back and brought him closer. He caressed the back of your head as he pulled away.

“I will help you do your skincare in the bathroom this time, so you can go rest. Is that alright with you, darling?

You nodded and wrapped your arm around your boyfriends as he walked you two to the bathroom.

He firstly helped you change in some comfortable sleepwear before you two stopped at the bathroom.

He ofc knows your skincare so he helped you with every steps as you were sat on the closed toilet.

He then transported you in a bridal style to your shared room. You were exhausted by the end of your little night routine.

He put your body softly on the bed and covered you with the bedsheets. He kissed your forehead and admired you while you were already asleep.

He left to wash the dishes quickly and came back to you were still deeply in sleep. He quickly washed up and joined you in bed.

Your eyes slightly opened. “Sanji..?What took you so long” you managed to mumble half asleep.

He couldn’t hide his smile when you asked him that. He opted to cuddle you and kiss your shoulder.

“Nothing, let’s sleep now” he replied with a tired tone. He blew on the light that was illuminating the room and fell asleep with you, his precious lover, in his embrace.

[suckerfordylansstuff]

New Journey (S.H.) Epilogue Season 4

Pairing: Steve Harrington x henderson!reader

Summary: Back to Hawkins for spring break. Y/n believed it would just be a quiet time to cherish with her loved ones, but one day in and another mess had already began.

Warnings: I think none...

Notes: And finally we have the epilogue! Thank to anyone who managed to bear with me this year and wait for my comeback. It has been hard to keep up my creativity while I continue my studies but I have made a promise to myself to not let anything else ruin what I like, and so here I am finishing this very loved story. Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy the final chapter of the season! 💕

Chapter 9 << Masterlist ~~

The next 2 days were a mess. Police report after police report. Explanation after explanation. And lots of angry parents.

Luckily you had the government on your side, so the lies were told for you. An earthquake they called it. Another tragedy that hit this small, little town. You remembered how you scoffed when you first heard those words on the news.

After Eddie died the world around you was so still and quiet, you actually thought that the others had succeeded. When, suddenly, everything went to shit. The whole ground rumbled beneath you, snapping you out of your state. You grabbed onto Dustin, his body weighing on you for support as he could barely walk on his hurt leg, desperately trying to quickly make your way to the trailer for cover, not knowing what was going on. However, it quickly became clear that the trailer was the one place you definitely should not go. The whole thing snapped, completely collapsed before you as a line began separating the ground, splitting it. The color was familiar, red like hell’s gates… Or every gate you had ever encountered.

“He’s bleeding into Hawkins…” Dustin had realized, and he was right. That was Vecna’s plan, and, for a good while, it looked like he was succeeding, the ripped line becoming bigger and bigger, following a direction you couldn’t see. You and Dustin were holding on each other as tight as possible until the earthquake you were feeling stopped. Again, everything had stilled.

You remembered not being able to move a muscle until a pair of arms engulfed you and Dustin. It shocked you, and panicked you as you prepared to fight off whoever had sneaked upon you, when a small shush filled your ears, your body reacting to it faster than your brain was able to register it was Steve’s voice, Steve’s arms, just him. Finding out he was alive had brought you back to tears, letting your one arm tangle itself around him, your other still protecting Dustin.

After that everything was a blur, as if your brain was slowly giving up on you, too tired to gather any more information. You managed to go back out, heading towards the town to find several guards and paramedics already there to take action. You got yourselves sorted, attending to small wounds, your, larger-than-you-thought slash on your cheek, and taking care of Dustin’s sprained foot. You don’t really remember how you went back home. Steve stayed with you and Dustin that night, your own mother insisting when she heard him say his parents weren’t at the house, ‘No way was he going to stay alone at this time’ were her words and you agreed, your hand not leaving Steve’s even for a second. After you had hugged your mother goodnight you decided all three of you would stay together for the night. You pulled out the sofa which ended up being occupied by you and Dustin, and Steve gladly took the armchair, his soft snores filling the room, slowly pulling you to a deep sleep.

By the next morning, you all had to pretend as if nothing had happened. Your mother had even more questions than you could ever imagine, about where were you before everything happened, and you ended up coming up with good enough lies to ease her worries and not raise any suspicions.

But it was hard to act as if everything was okay, especially when Luca’s phone call came. Dustin answered it. You had been trying to find them since yesterday, but no one was picking up. Neither Lucas nor Max. Dustin called you and Steve over when he heard Lucas’s voice, happy to hear his friend. But the grin he had put on quickly faded as he listened to what he had to say. Max was attacked last night, that’s why Vecna succeeded in his plan, and even if she had somehow escaped him once more, her condition was bad. Steve drove you two to the hospital to check on her. You found Lucas sitting next to her, holding hands, as he read to her. You’re not sure how you had contained your tears, maybe you felt the need to be strong for them, to be able to pull Lucas from the chair and guide him to the small couch in the room, trying to get him to sleep for a couple of hours. You managed to do so after you promised not to leave her side, not even for a moment.

So that’s what you did for the next four hours. You just sat around her, not daring to take your eyes away from her form, wishing, praying for her to open her eyes and call you idiots for worrying. But she didn’t, and when Lucas woke up you went back home to have an early dinner and try to calm yourselves.

It was later that evening when Nancy called your house, telling you that her family would be donating some stuff to the shelter Hawkins had built at the school’s gymnasium to attend to anyone who needed help. You immediately agreed and promised to bring some of your own stuff the next morning.

So that’s what you were now doing, alongside Dustin, Steve, and Robin, trying to assemble to boxes in a way that would fit in the back of Steve’s car.

You were too focused on the matter that you weren’t able to hear another car stop at the house, only Mrs. Wheeler’s voice grabbing your attention.

“Someone order a pizza?”

“Pizza?” Dustin questioned and turned around along with the rest of you. Before you, was a yellow, small pizza delivery truck. You didn’t know what to make of it until four familiar faces presented themselves. Eleven, Mike, Will, and Jonathan were back, also a random dude that had beautiful hair.

You were able to finally let out a real smile, happy to see them okay after days of no response from them. You let your arms fall around Eleven and Will as they hugged you and Dustin. Your hand was caressing Eleven’s cheek when Will popped a question.

“Where’s Lucas?”

“He’s at the hospital.” Dustin answered as if it should be obvious to them.

“Is he hurt?” Eleven asked, worry in her eyes.

“No.” you quickly answered as Dustin continued.

“No, he’s… Oh God… You don’t know.”

After saying hello to everybody, you split up the group. Nancy was going to drive the kids, and Jonathan to the hospital to see Max, while you, Steve, Dustin, and Robin would head to the school and help in any way that you can.

You carried one of the three boxes and went inside after Steve had parked the car. The gymnasium was filled with people, harmed and not. Some of them were lying in the small beds around the gym while others were tending to them. Some, and it broke your heart, were trying to find their loved ones, searching in the crowd of endless faces or adding one more poster to the ‘missing people’ wall. You averted your eyes when you caught a glimpse of Eddie’s face on one of the papers, calming your heartbeat as you neared the donations stand.

“Hi.” Robin told the woman with a smile on her face “Uh, so these are blankets and sheets. And some- some clothes, and- and some kids’ toys.” she points to each of the boxes in order.

The girl, Melissa as it says on her tag, took a look at the boxes and answered with a smile “Wow, it’s already so organized. We appreciate that. Do you want a tax receipt for it?”

“Um… No. I don’t think that we need one. Thank you, though.” Robin tells her. She turns to look at each of you, the question in on all of your minds, and you answer her by nodding your head “But is there anything else that we can do to help?”

Melissa smiled and happily assigned you spots after giving you your own tags. You and Steve went to help out in clothing, where, you quickly realized, they were in desperate need of assistance. Dustin was handing out water despite his strained foot, and Robin was helping out with the food.

Melissa introduced you to the woman in charge of the clothing station, who rapidly caught you up to speed “Okay, then we sort by age.” you tried your best to keep up with her and miss no detail “We’ve got infants, girls, boys, men, women… Oh, if anything’s too bad a shape, we really don’t want that.”

She didn’t stay long with you. It was pretty easy to sort out and a great way to clear your head, so you and Steve fell into a trance quickly. As you folded the clothes you let your eyes roam the room and after a second they landed on Robin who was sharing her company with a familiar figure. You immediately smirked and nudged Steve to look in the same direction. He smiled as well at the two women, smiling and giggling away like no one else was with them “Told you.” he simply said and you chuckled.

It felt nice to joke around after another crazy adventure. You wanted to savor the time the quietness lasted, even though deep down, you truly hoped this would finally be over. But it never seemed to last. And something told you this time it won’t either. You just believed you had a moment to breathe, however, the change in the atmosphere outside told you otherwise.

When you realized the sun had hidden you took a look in the sky, hoping no thunderstorm was coming your way, but what you met made your blood run cold. The sky was grey, with huge clouds adorning the sky.

However, what caught your attention were the small flakes falling gently. As you neared the windows, alongside Steve and Robin, you could hear people asking with confusion why was it snowing mid-spring, but the three of you knew this wasn’t snow. This was the Upside Down coming to you, taking over your city, following you everywhere.

This definitely wasn’t over.

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[anton-luvr]

Could u do a fic where the reader and Anton are best friends and have a sleepover. By the time they go to sleep it starts to storm and she’s scared of thunder so she asks Anton to sleep with her in bed instead of him sleeping on the couch. So like Anton holding reader and kind of cuddling to calm her down. Reader realizing she likes Anton more than just as a best friend so she kisses and him and he gets all shy but likes it because he likes her too and just kekdowodos really fluffy and cute 🥹💕 Thank you in advance I love your work!!☺️🫶🏻

# MY FAVORITE LOSER.

𖦹 bf!anton x fem!reader | fluff | best friends to lovers au 𖦹 note ; mwah tysm anon i love you,, also this is ADORABLE... thank u for requesting i hope u like it!! + reqs are closed !

Fun fact: you were terrible at Mario Kart.

Nintendo music accompanied by Anton's laughter echoes across your apartment as he wins the game again, grinning proudly.

"I told you, Princess Peach always wins." he boasts, waving the controller happily.

You scoff, folding his arms. "Hey, Yoshi can win too! Just you wait, I'll win you in the next round." you reason.

But just like the past five games, you don't.

"Just admit I'm better, hm?" Anton suggests, smiling.

You roll your eyes jokingly at how proud your best friend is, gently shoving him.

"Okay, let's not play anymore." you say, exiting the game and setting the controller aside. "How's life?"

Anton's eyes light up at the question, and he quickly sets the controller aside too.

He loved talking to you.

Whether it was a deep conversation about personal struggles or a stupid discussion about the validity of soap (don't ask), Anton knew you would always listen.

Your conversation goes on to the late hours of midnight, with Anton telling you about his upcoming vacation to Korea and you telling him about the random fight you witnessed at your lecture the other day.

By the time he's done talking about the cute cafe he passed by yesterday, it was already past two in the morning.

"And they have really cute cups too! We should go there someday." he says, stifling a yawn.

You nod, eyes drooping shut. "I think we should sleep." you mumble, stretching with a groan. "I only slept for four hours yesterday."

Anton gasps at this, dramatically shaking you by the shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? You should go to sleep, right now." he scolds.

Chuckling, you get up from the sofa with both of your hands up in the air. "Okay, fine! I'll go to sleep now."

Anton hums at this, pushing you towards your room. "We can talk more tomorrow," he says. "You look like a zombie right now."

He runs away too fast for you to hit him for the insult, giggling as he retreats to the living room. "Goodnight!" he calls out, waving cheekily at you.

"Goodnight!" you call back as you close your bedroom door.

Flopping onto your bed, you let out a happy sigh.

It was nights like these with Anton that made life feel worth living. You're still smiling contentedly to yourself as you get comfortable under the covers, drifting off to dreamland.

Until the roaring sound of thunder snaps you right out of it.

Each flash of light shining through your room made you flinch, the angry raindrops pelting against your windows making panic rise in your chest.

Scrambling out of bed, you run into the living room, almost tripping over your own feet in the process.

"Anton." you whisper nervously, tugging at his hand. "Anton, wake up."

The sleepy boy wakes up in a jolt, frowning in confusion. "H-Huh?" he mumbles, sitting up slowly. "What's wrong?"

"Can you sleep with me? I'm scared." you rambled, gasping in short and nervous breaths.

Even though Anton was half-awake, he immediately agrees.

He stumbles his way into your room and gets under your covers, making sure to pull it over you too.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, voice groggy.

His heart breaks when you shake your head no, eyes filling up with tears.

"Don't cry, it's okay." he says, hugging you. "Just... think of it as the sky farting. That's what I used to tell my brother."

Even though you were almost scared out of your wits, you couldn't help but let out a little snort of laughter.

"Wow, that helps a lot." you deadpan, snuggling closer into his arms.

"I know right?" he giggles, rubbing your back gently.

But it actually does.

The fury of Mother Nature didn't seem so scary anymore at Anton's joke and in the security of his warm embrace.

You realize a lot of things aren't that scary anymore whenever you're with Anton.

Despite the both of you being rather shy and reserved people, he somehow always brought out the best in you.

Just his presence alone gave you confidence and security, knowing that there was always someone there who loved and supported you unconditionally.

From him cheering you on for your nerve-wracking first day of college to him helping you tell the waitress she got your order wrong at the local diner, he had always been there for you.

And even with him being half-awake, he still looked gorgeous.

His eyes sparkled with a love for the world brighter than the stars, the soft smile he flashed you warming your heart up in a way no one else could.

"Thank you." you whisper, looking up at the curly haired boy. Without another word, you kiss him on the cheek.

Anton feels like the world stops when you do so.

All the blood in his body rushes up to his head, the tips of his ears turning as red as apples while he blinks rapidly.

"W-What was that for?" he stutters, avoiding your eye contact.

"For this," you say. "For everything, actually. I think I like you." you admit.

Anton thinks he just might pass out.

Millions of thoughts run through his mind, but he says what he's been wanting to say for a long time.

"Well, what if I told you I liked you too?" he mumbles, finally meeting your eyes.

"You're joking." you mutter, even though you were praying that he wasn't.

"No, I'm not." Anton starts, turning so he could face you better.

"There's no one else I like to spend time with as much as I do with you." he confesses, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ears.

"You're the only one that makes me feel this way, no matter what you do. Even if it's just you losing in Mario Kart for two hours straight."

You open your mouth to argue, but Anton puts a quick end to it when he kisses you, this time on your lips.

"You're my favorite loser." he whispers. "Can you be my loser forever?"

Nodding, you can't help but smile at how corny your best friend - no, your boyfriend - could be.

"I'll be yours forever."

© anton-luvr, 2023.

[e-dubbc11]

Goodnight Sweet Prince

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Death, description of injuries, vomiting, crying, grief

Word Count: 2.8K-ish

Summary: After a night out, on your way home, there’s a horrific accident

A/N: Ok I’m just going to say I’m sorry right off the bat, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Based off of a conversation between my lovely lovely friend @ittybxttykxttytxtty if you’d like to read the conversation, check it out HERE There is a surprise at the end so I will do another author’s note at the end. This was very hard to write at times, I had to walk away from it and come back to it a few times. I know, I’m rambling again. I’m just gonna say I’m sorry again and forgive me but I hope you like it anyway. Oh and the song I listened to on repeat to put me in the right mindset was Storm by Lifehouse. I’ll link it at the end. ♥️

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

There wasn’t anything that could be done for the outcome to be different. You were living a real life nightmare over and over again, always starting and ending in the same place, never finding out what happened after the accident or how you were supposed to figure out how to break the time loop you were stuck in.

The scorched heart that beat inside your chest burned every time you had to watch that truck hit the patch of black ice. His strong hands had pushed you out of the way and you fell across the faded white lines of the crosswalk, toward the sidewalk, just as it hit him.

Choking on the icy winter air, you tried to get to him as people started to gather around. All other sounds had been blocked out, you couldn’t hear the pedestrians that were trying to ask you if you were ok. You could read their lips but there was no sound.

With your palms pressed firmly in place, you could feel the vibrations of the traffic along the cold cracked city streets before crawling on all fours through a sea of legs looking for him. You could finally hear the faded sounds of approaching sirens and see the blinking red emergency lights against the somber night sky.

Your heart sank into your feet when you finally saw him. The attempt to control his pain and shock was futile. He didn’t have to say anything because it was all over his face. He was scared, calling out your name over and over again through shuttering, halting breaths.

Bright red blood slowly dripped from the scrapes on his knuckles and trailed out of his mouth. His legs twisted to impossible angles; you knew they were broken.

The dialogue was always the same.

As you hovered above him, you tried to stifle your sobs as you gently scraped his scalp with your nails.

“BILLY!” You cried out.

He struggled to get his words out. Between labored breaths he managed to ask, “A-are y-you o-ok? T-tell me you’re ok!”

Cupping his cheek, you replied, “I’m ok, baby…I’m ok. They’re coming, Billy! Just hold on! Why did you do that?!!”

Billy tried to smile.

“I-I couldn’t l-let any…thing h-happen to m-my s-sweet girl.” He choked out before his eyes closed.

“Billy! Billy, open your eyes for me please! Don’t you dare leave me, Billy Russo!” You yelled, gripping and shaking his shoulders.

Just as his eyes slowly started to open, you were surrounded by a swarm of paramedics who whisked you away toward the ambulance. And as you struggled to get away from them and back to Billy, a warm white light would appear and take you to a happy memory of him like the day you met, the night of your first date, and the first time he told you he loved you.

These memories felt like dreams. You observed them from the outside, like you were a spectator watching your own life as it played out in front of you.

“She left me…she didn’t want me…she never did.” He had said softly.

You remembered that night vividly. That quiet night with nothing but the sound of the fire crackling and hissing in between the words the two of you exchanged. A mother had left her own child on the doorstep of a fire station with nothing but the clothes on his back, not bothering to look back as she walked away from him. She made a choice and she didn’t deserve any forgiveness for it you thought to yourself because you couldn’t get any words out.

You struggled to swallow as tears silently fell from your eyes and in a way, you felt sorry for her because she would never know that her son grew up to be probably the strongest person you had ever met.

Billy had pulled himself out of that gutter she had left him in. He defended his country as a marine, became a successful CEO of a company he started without help from anyone, and he was so much more than anyone ever got to see.

You were the only person he ever showed that side of himself to.

Even the warmth from the fire couldn’t keep you from shivering as you listened to his story. The words kept pouring out like blood from an open wound and his words left you stunned and unable to move.

There wasn’t anything you could say to take that pain away, to make the nightmares disappear, help him forget about the Ray of Hope group home, the bodies left behind in Afghanistan, or the pain he suffered from feeling unwanted and unloved for so long. But you could listen and be there for him whenever he needed you to and he loved you for that.

Your story wasn’t like Billy’s but it was still a painful one. The memories you had from when you were really young made you happy but as you got older into your pre-teen and teenage years, everything unraveled.

Your parents divorced, you had to leave the house you grew up in, and your mother even gave away your dog. She treated you like she didn’t want you, not going as far as Billy’s mother did but you felt just as he did…unwanted and unloved.

“What did she do to you?” Billy had asked.

Gazing at you fondly, his eyes were the color of freshly turned soil after the rain. His long fingers softly brushed across your knuckles as the heat from the fire warmed one side of his handsome face.

You swallowed hard before answering him, it was nothing like what he had been through, and it just sounded so marginal but you answered him anyway.

“She ignored me.” You replied with your voice cracking.

You didn’t want to cry but tears fell from your eyes anyway as you tried to look away from him, realizing how stupid it all sounded but he wouldn’t let you look away or down. Billy wanted your eyes on him.

The look in his eyes was understanding; they silently told you he would never do that to you and he would always be there to listen to you because, in a way, you were alike. The two of you had managed to find one another and he never wanted to let that go…and neither did you.

The broken fragments of your lives that you carried around never quite fit back into place, no matter how hard you tried to put them back. Those scars are forever; they never completely go away but you didn’t need those pieces anymore. The healing you did together helped to patch the holes inside that you thought might never be filled with love again.

Patiently, you had waited for someone to love you as Billy did, to love you for who you were and he had only wanted the same. Not for his money or his good looks but for someone to love him, to be patient with him, but also to put him in his place when he was wrong. He wasn’t used to that but he did whatever it took because, with your help, he liked the man he was becoming.

He felt…content.

And in an instant, everything changed. The cycle would start all over again. Truck…screeching tires…hitting the pavement…sirens and lights…blood…broken bones…hearing your name…flashes of light…a fond memory.

You couldn’t keep watching him get hit by that truck over and over again. It felt like moments of your life were being taken from you each time it happened but still you loved watching the wonderful memories and moments between you and Billy again like it was the first time it was happening.

Every emotion you had experienced in those memories, you felt again watching them unfold in front of your eyes. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered again watching him kiss you for the first time. And goosebumps peppered your skin every time his lips touched that spot on your neck you loved so much…you felt them all.

But no matter how hard you tried to prevent him from being hit, you couldn’t do it. The universe wouldn’t let you. The cruelty of it all, watching the worst moment of your life play over and over again like a broken record. The flashes of light would always happen before learning Billy’s fate but you needed to break the loop.

How were you going to do that?

Maybe? No, no that can’t be the answer. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t just let him die. “There has to be another way!” You thought.

The scent of tires and pavement mixed together burned into your sense of smell and left you sick with nausea as you tried to comfort him or ease his pain in any way you could. But it didn’t do any good. You could feel him slipping away as the obliterating pain you felt in your chest increased when the paramedics tore you away from his side.

The light came for you, ready to take you away to another memory but you didn’t let it. That’s when you realized that there was no other way to break the loop. Your body went numb, admitting to yourself that you had to let him go.

You had exhausted every option, tried everything, but the time loop kept going. The memories shown to you were all you were going to have left of him which was excruciating to think about.

You broke free from the paramedic’s strong grip and hurried back to him just as the other EMT’s were putting him on the stretcher.

You weren’t going to let him be alone.

No other words were exchanged inside the ambulance. With the oxygen mask over his face, his long fingers had laced with yours, he squeezed your hand periodically as the ambulance raced toward the hospital until his heart stopped beating and you heard the unmistakable sound of a flat line. His fingers went limp, his hand dropped away from yours as the EMT’s tried to revive him but he wasn’t coming back.

The tears came thick and fast as all noises dissipated like a heavy fog burning off over the ocean. A piece of you was gone, it had died along with him and that space in your heart that had been filled in with his love was empty once again.

The air inside suddenly became heavy and you struggled to breathe. As soon as the ambulance doors opened, you vomited onto the pavement in the parking lot and collapsed into the arms of one of the paramedics.

Before you blacked out, you heard him call out to you, “Miss! Can you hear me?!”

**********

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, the bright lights above you stung as you waited for your vision to adjust to them. The voice you heard next to you was a familiar one.

“Hey sweetheart.” He said.

The voice was deep and gruff but soft. It could only be one person…Frank.

Frank Castle was Billy’s best friend. They served together and when Billy started Anvil, he had Frank come and work for him.

A hazy sense of sadness filled the room and after a moment of cold silence, you burst into tears, clawed at the sheets and tried to get out of bed.

“Y/n…no, no! What are ya doing, ya have to stay here. He’s gone, sweetheart.” Frank embraced you tightly and choked on his words. “He’s gone.”

Still trying to pull the cold sheets off your body, you cried, “He was all I had, Frank! He was all I…had!”

Frank squeezed you as hard as he could, held you in his arms as you cried while he tried not to and stroked your hair to try and soothe you but it didn’t do any good. You were heartbroken and numb as you sobbed against Frank’s shirt before passing out from shock once again.

The only person in the world who understood you, who you went to when you were having a bad day, or when you just needed someone to hug you in silence was stolen from you and he wasn’t coming back.

The only thing you felt was helplessness, lying in your hospital bed desperately trying to think of how you were going to move on with your life without him. You didn’t have anyone else, so what were you supposed to do now?

The weeks following Billy’s death all ran together in a blur. Frank and his wife, Maria, insisted you stay with them, but you couldn’t eat, or sleep, and when you did sleep, you were awakened by constant nightmares. Billy came to you in your dreams, they felt so real, his hands cupping your cheeks, lips colliding with yours, and his fingers tracing along the curves and hollows of your body.

Suddenly, his face was covered in cuts and blood and his life force grew fainter. You reached out but you couldn’t touch him. He slipped right through your fingers as he was just a vision, a figment of your imagination and then he disappeared.

Cold sweats and waves of nausea resulted in you vomiting up whatever food you had managed to eat. Maria became concerned when it would happen every time you tried to eat something so even though you told her you were fine, she brought you to the doctor anyway.

Sitting in the exam room, you said to her, “I told you, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.”

“But I am worried.” She said. “You can’t keep anything down. That’s not good, y/n.”

It felt like they had kept you waiting in that room for days, so she just sat with you, talked, and comforted you. She knew how hard all of this had been on you.

Maria had become a really good friend to you after starting your relationship with Billy. She was so happy that he finally found someone that understood him, was patient with him, and had taught him how to be in a relationship. Some days were harder than others but she did her best to try and ease your pain.

“I know it hasn’t been that long y/n, but Frank and I, even the kids, would do anything to see you smile again.” Said Maria, as she laced her fingers with yours.

You tried to give her a slight smile but immediately your eyes welled up with tears and streaked down your cheeks.

“I see him everywhere I go, every time I close my eyes, he’s there but I can’t touch him. My hand just floats through him! It’s so hard without him, Maria!” You sobbed.

She held you tightly against her as she bit back her tears.

“I know it is…ssshh, ssshhh, I know it is. I know you miss him, we all do, but we are always here for you.” She said, choking on her words.

You remembered when your grandfather passed away. The nurses told you that hearing was the last sense to leave the body so he could still hear you even if you didn’t think he could. And you remembered that in the ambulance on your way to the hospital with Billy.

Before he squeezed your hand for the last time, you whispered in his ear how much you loved him and told him he was the best thing to ever happen to you.

Then he was gone and you knew he wasn’t coming back. He died knowing he was loved which is all he ever wanted but you didn’t know if you would ever be able to process your grief. Everything was difficult. Getting out of bed, eating, taking care of yourself. It was all so painful.

Maria was still holding onto you when the doctor knocked and walked through the door. She had a kind smile and was very aware of the ordeal you had been through so her tone of voice was very gentle.

“Hi there, y/n. I’d ask you how you’re doing but I know the answer to that but I think I know why you haven’t been able to keep any food down lately.” She said.

You and Maria looked at her, very interested in what she was about to say.

“Your bloodwork came back and, well…you’re pregnant y/n.” She said with a warm smile.

As those words echoed inside your head, you suddenly became lightheaded and you were thankful that Maria was holding onto you because you could feel yourself starting to lean off of the exam table.

“I’m…pregnant?” You questioned. “A-are y-you sure? How can that be? I was on birth control.”

She shrugged. “Well you know it’s not always 100% effective. We should schedule you for an ultrasound so we know how far along you are.”

Maria cracked a smile as her tears went from sad to happy.

“Oh my god…” She said, stunned.

“Oh my god…” You replied, in return.

Billy didn’t leave you all alone after all but how were you going to do it without him?

A/N #2: I’d love to continue this, explore her grief a little more, past times with Billy, maybe the birth of the baby? What do you think?

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

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[rubendiasthoughts]

I have collected some more stuff about dad Ruben in my notes, so this is part two. Enjoy! 💕

Ruben Dias as a dad part two - headcanon:

- I think that if you were out somewhere with your kid and they get tired of walking, he would just pick them up and carry them on his shoulders. Maybe if you took your child to amusment park. In general, that would be so cute. And I feel like Ruben would for sure play one of these games where you can win a teddy bear, and he would give it to your child. Maybe if he didn't win the first few times he would be laughing to himself, but still playing it because he is determined to win the prize. And when he finally gets it, you would laugh at him and he would press a quick kiss to your lips.

- I could totally see him reading bedtime stories to your child, and then tucking them into bed and giving them a forehead kiss goodnight.

-And when the baby was little he would be craddling them in his arms to try to put the baby to sleep. Pressing gentle kisses to their head from time to time, while he is quietly humming a lullaby. And when the baby falls asleep he would be so careful and gentle not to wake them up, while putting the baby in their crib.

- His camera roll would be so cute if he was a dad. I think he would have so many pictures of your child, and he would for sure put one as his phone screen. Or maybe he would carry a picture in his wallet. And he would for sure have ton of pics of you with your child. I feel like whenever he was away from you, he would look through them, smiling to himself.

- I feel like everytime he has to go away he would bring back something for his child when he's coming back home. It would be his tradition, even if sometimes it's just a little toy or some candy. But can you imagine him getting back home, and your child racing to the door to say hello to daddy? He would get down to his knees and wrap them in his arms, a huge smile on his face. And you would be leaning against the door frame, looking at them with a smile on your face. And Ruben would totally look up at you, with the child still in his arms, and he would smile at you, he would just be so happy to see his wife. Or Ruben as a girl dad when he brings flowers for his wife, would bring flowers for his little girl as well.

- Can you imagine if your baby was still quite little and they wake up early in the morning and start crying, so the two of you wake up and you are already getting up, but Ruben is like "go back to sleep baby, I got it". And he takes the baby from their crib and calms them down, so they stop crying and then takes them to your bed and lies down with them, the baby laying on his chest. And they fall asleep like that. You would have to get a picture of that, cause they would just look so cute.

- And when the baby gets older, Ruben would totally let them come and lay in your bed with you in the morning. And you would just cuddle, sometimes Ruben would tickle your kid, cute little giggles leaving their mouth as they are squirming and kicking their legs up.

- And you two would for sure take the baby on walks together. Ruben would be pushing the stroller with one hand, holding yours with the other.

-And when your kid is old enough to go to school he would help them with their homework. Maybe the two of them would be sitting at the kitchen table as you are making dinner. And Ruben would be so patient, explaining everything in a calm voice.

- And if he was a girl dad, and you had to go somewhere in the morning, so he was the one who had to get your daughter ready when she wakes up, I feel like he would be just so clueless about what to do with her hair. He would defenitely struggle so much trying to do her hair 😂 Especially if it was the first time he has to get her ready on his own. Because he would be so used to you always taking care of her hair. But it would be all so cute, he would sit her on the sofa and put her shoes on for her and then put her jacket on and take her by her hand, her little backpack in his free hand. And he would put her in the car seat, put her seatbelt on and drive her to the kindergarden. I feel like he would totally put on some kids songs for her in the car and he would be singing with her on their way.

- And another thing I see him doing as a girl dad would be buying matching jewellery for you and your daughter. Maybe a necklace with a little heart or something. I think that would just be so cute, matching necklaces for his two favourite girls🥺

- He would for sure take you and your child on a Disneyland trip. And I think he would buy the both of you matching Mickey ears headbands.

- And he would be so cute while teaching your toddler how to talk or walk. He would be holding both of their hands, when they are learning to walk. And he would be so gentle and patient.

[daiourage]

It’s my birthday!!!! I don’t turn 20 until like 9 hours later technically but I’m gonna sleep now so here y’all go!!!

Sorry, all I’ve been doing is posting OPAU stuff but I don’t have time for large pieces rn and I can’t do plot stuff w/o characters 😭 2nd year is always the worst according to the college I’m currently going to but if I make it through this, things will be much easier!!!

These are designs I’m scrapping/revising for now because I’m unsatisfied with them. Blacking out that paragraph bc while it’s not grand or anything, I still think I wanna reveal it later 🥂

(Someone please take the bismuth-lookin’ lower leg designs on Jetfire I wanna see them in someone else’s style I’m being so serious rn 🙏 the reason the Jetfire pic is cropped so weird is bc I took the pic to make note of the legs specifically bc most of the upper body’ll be used)

Anyway goodnight again 💕 see y’all in a quarter of a day!!