#sorry if you follow me here too and this hurts your feelings but also like... I hope this also helps you realize what we should and shouldnt

[dinogoofymutated]

So I'm warming up to the idea of Cable now with this new animation style. And now I can't help but imagine a mutant reader seeing him shirtless for the first time 👉🏽👈🏽. Maybe she's helping him treat a wound he cant reach on his back and he's too worn out to rely on his telekinesis for it. Sure she knows that he has a metal arm. Techno-organic viruses were nasty business. But she never imagined she'd get to see the stark contrast of metal and flesh up close. Just a tender moment where she gets to see him at his most vulnerable. Preferably sfw. Sorry if this is too long winded or specific. Really love your writing and enjoy what you share with us regardless if u choose this one or not 🫶🏽

SFW!Cable/GN!Reader OOOOGHHHH when I tell you I have been thinking about this since you sent me the ask!! I've been dying to write this but forced myself to follow a schedule :( I've never really been a Cable girly but this scenario has been in my head non-stop! I just hope this fic does the same to others!!! Speaking of which, I hope this isn't too OOC for him! This also might get a pt 2 with some smooching 😘

Read pt. 2 Here :)

-Ps- Heads up, finals week is coming up for me and I have a lot of essays and work to do. my writing is sadly going to slow down a bit. I don't think I'm going to close requests for now but it's not out of the realm of possibility! TWs: Can't really think of any. Gross depictions of techno-organic shit. As always, Reader written while picturing fem! but no pronouns mentioned. The reader is short in this one, sorry to all my Amazonian friends.

    Prime sentinels were like wasps. Squashing one could be relatively easy with the right tools, but it was difficult to handle multiples at once. It had been a rough day, and your ears were still ringing from the sounds of blaster fire when you got to the safe house. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, body exhausted from overusing your mutant powers. Bruises are forming all over you, and despite the pain and soreness, you know you got off easy compared to Cable. 

    He’s got an arm slung around your shoulder, using you as a crutch as you help him limp over to the table- although you’re sure you’re not a very good one, too short for him to properly lean on. His gun clanks on the floor as he sits, grunting as the movement sends shooting pains through his body. You can tell his left arm is aching, the techno-organic virus fighting to beat the telekinetic powers keeping them still. You weren’t the only one who overdid it today, but you also weren’t the one who had to keep a virus from eating you alive.

    Once Cable is settled, the routine starts. You cautiously make a round through the safe house, making sure blinds are drawn and entryways secured. Usually, the task was split between the two of you, being faster and safer than it would be alone- but he would take it over when you were badly hurt. It was only natural that you would do the same. You feel the sting of anxiety and worry in your heart. Cable had saved your ass today. He had done so many times, but normally the fighting wasn’t this extreme. You had been stupid, and he was suffering the consequences. 

    A series of pained grunts lead you back into the kitchen once you’ve finished, and you can tell Cable is pissed just by the tone of them. You’re facing his back when you walk in, noticing the large red stain that spans across the width of his shoulders. You try to hide the worry on your face as you approach him. He has the medkit sprawled out on the counter, sorting through the various items in it.

    “Can’t believe this thing doesn’t have a damn mirror.” He grunts. You hum in response, looking him over before examining the items on the table.

    “What do you need a mirror for?” You ask, voice coming out a little hoarse. You clear your throat, must be from the smoke earlier. Cable sends you a look, tossing his head towards his back. You mouth an “oh” before looking at him, unable to hide your worried expression. You’d seen him stitch his wounds up with his telekinesis before, when the fight was all guns and no powers. An action like that was child’s play for someone of his capabilities. For him to actively avoid it, and the way his arm seemed to be bothering him more than normal… It made you worried. It made you feel guilty. 

    You look down at the suture kit, open on the table from where Cable had unzipped it, and then look back at him, wordlessly asking. He gives you a cautious look for a moment, before it shifts into something much softer. He doesn’t bother nodding, choosing to simply take his shirt off instead.

    You blush a little but quickly get to work, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on. They’re too big for you, meant to fit Cable’s sturdy hands instead of your own smaller ones. You try not to get distracted by the sight of him shirtless as you pick up what you need and get behind him. The air has shifted between the two of you, forming into something a little more intimate. Something that builds itself on words unspoken, truths that neither of you is quite ready to communicate yet.

    His back is broad and beautiful, dotted with scars and bruises. The gash on his shoulders is from a stray blast, starting at the top of his left shoulder and ending at the lower shoulder blade of his right. 

    You’re not sure if you had been ready to see the cut-off between flesh and metal.

    The cords of metal attach to the skin of his shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. They sprout from underneath the skin, winding against each other in a way that makes no clear sense to you. The top layers of skin are rough, keloid scarring having formed at the impasse of skin and metal. It's horrific, the way the virus has both eaten and forced its way under the skin. The top of the gash is somewhat deep, the deep inner cording revealed by the wound cutting through the top of his skin has you unable to look away despite the horror that has taken you.

   “I can feel you staring, you know.” Cable’s rumbling voice causes you to snap back to reality.

    “Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” You trail off, not fully able to place the words. He sighs, and you mistake it for annoyance. You quickly get back on track and begin to disinfect the wound. Cable hardly flinches as you do so. You’re overly cautious as you stitch him up, focusing on each stitch being perfectly placed. You know they wouldn’t stay for long. Cable had a habit of tearing his stitches. You hope that maybe you’d be able to keep that from happening this time.

   You place both hands on his shoulder blades when you are done. The nerves have worn off as the pseudo-doctor in you took over. You’re trying to examine the stitches, but find that your attention keeps being drawn back to that stark contrast of his shoulder. If Cable notices, he doesn’t say anything. You glance at the back of his head, trying to gauge what he’s feeling. 

    Your left hand drifts a little. Cable shudders as your thumb gently traces that line of scarring, the metal of his arm feeling extra cold compared to the heat of his skin. You’re waiting for him to say something. To tell you to back off. To grumble and shake you off and avoid speaking to you like he used to when you first started to work together- when he was so determined not to get attached. 

   But he doesn’t say anything. Not at first, anyway. The tenseness of his shoulders slowly gives as the gently touching morphed into more purposeful touches, working the stiff muscles- what was left of the organic ones, anyway. 

��   It’s intimate. It’s quiet. It’s… nice. Part of you wishes it would last a little longer. Part of you wishes he would let you touch him like this more often. 

    Cable stiffens again as the thought crosses your mind, recoiling away from you. He stands suddenly, turning around to face you. His towering stature used to make you nervous out of fear. Now you’re nervous for a completely different reason. Part of you had forgotten about the glimpses he takes into your mind. A flicker of anxiety ignites when you realize how much he might have seen. The two of you just look at each other for a moment, his brown eyes hard compared to the softness from earlier. You hadn’t meant to think so much. You didn’t think he was horrific. It was the virus. What it was doing to him. The energy and effort it takes out of him. That was what scared you.

    Cable was used to the stares. The horror. Most recoiled at the sight of his flesh. It only made sense to him when you did too.

    But Nathan… Nathan wasn’t ready for the depth of your thoughts. The care in your eyes. He wasn’t ready for the depth of his own feelings. The ones that cause such a storm within him. The ones that cause him to be stupid. The ones that make him focus more on saving you than the goal of every mission.

    “Is this… Are we okay?” You ask. He didn’t need to be a telepath to sense the fear that has swelled within you. Most of your emotions were always written on your face. It made things easier for him when he didn’t have to search for your thoughts. That hardness in his eyes softens yet again, and he glances away for a moment. 

    “... Yeah.” Is all he says. His heart feels light when you finally smile at him, even though an underlying nervousness still resides behind that smile. You let out a relieved sigh, and he can’t bear to look at you any longer. Instead, he sits back down. He faces away from you, giving you the space to finish taking care of the wound on his back. 

    You don’t realize how late it is until you’re finished, and the mess on the counter has been cleaned and contained back in the medkit. The two of you sit together as you eat. The food isn’t great- consisting of an MRE that’s not exactly as advanced as the futuristic weapons and technology would lead you to believe. He doesn’t say anything when you lean on his shoulder, or when your breathing evens out, having fallen asleep on his side.

  The aches and pains don’t really bother Nathan as he carries you to bed, but the thoughts of you, your feelings, your thoughts… Those keep him awake longer than any wound would.

[ruporas]

Hey sorry if I’m being annoying but. I see posts of dungeon meshi every so often and I came across your harpy piece (which is AMAZING btw) but why does falin (I think that’s her name) turn into a harpy?? If you know please spoil me I just I have to know if it’s doomed yuri or not

haha not annoying at all! here’s my debrief of it

important thing to note is that Falin dies in episode 1, like first minute, she is dead and the entire journey is about defeating the red dragon that killed her in order to revive her before she gets fully digested. long story short, she DID get digested with only her bones and strands of hair as her remains which makes standard resurrection impossible, but marcille is then revealed to been studying ancient/black magic and is able to revive falin using monster parts aka the now defeated and dead red dragon. falin gets revived, they’re happy for a night and talking about going back to the surface with the rest of the party, yay!

the dungeon lord senses a disturbance after his red dragon is killed though and shows up. in resurrecting falin, the red dragon’s soul had intermingled with hers so she ends up being overtaken by the dragon’s soul upon the dungeon lord’s appearance and strictly follows his orders from then on. next time she shows up in front of the party, she ruthlessly kills/injures half the people they were with and showed basically no falin-ness in battle except for a brief moment with laios (which i assumed was bait).

that’s how falin gets turned into a chimera! there were harpies that showed up with her in the recent ep, but she herself is like. a weird dragon chicken thing.

i should also note marcille and falin are childhood friends, they’re very close to one another and marcille, despite the odds, adamantly joined laios in getting falin back. i think the importance falin has in marcille’s life has been enforced so falin becoming half monster, alive but not as herself entirely and becoming wrapped in a situation where they must defeat the Dungeon Lord in order to get her back (potentially) is kind of devastating. and in the recent episode, laios nor marcille knew how to approach falin, they just knew they didn’t want/couldn’t hurt her. this entire situation is new in their world, it’s not certain whether falin will ever return to herself. they’ll continue onward in the journey, but everything is probable! so not 100% doomed, but still, devastating.

the manga is finished so i highly recommend reading it if you’re curious about what happens. i feel like the yuri is better enjoyed if you know more about the world and of marcille’s character too, because her goals and desires makes everything she has to experience a bit more tragic. if not the manga, then definitely the anime!! watching it is very fun and i believe they’ll stop the anime at a good point. but anyway i hope this answers your question! ^_^

[kangals]

way back in 2014, probably a few weeks or months after you posted that picture of boone with the stick on his head, i checked your blog out and so dearly enjoyed all the dogposting that i followed. i think you were the first dogblr blog i actually followed at the time, but it's been ages and my memory is bad, so i'm not fully sure. it wasn't long before then--2012 i think?--that i had gotten a new dog of my own, a border collie. iirc he and boone were just about the same age.

in 2018 i lost that blog i'd followed you with, and a lot of connections with it. i didn't return until 2021, and when i did, i didn't refollow most of the old blogs; i don't think i even really went looking for them. it took me a while to get back into the swing of using tumblr.

last september, my border collie had a sharp health decline, and i had to say goodbye. it's not the first time i've had to put a pet down, but i think it was the hardest. i'm still not over it. even just typing this now, i feel raw.

then in march or so, i made a new fandom friend who knows you, and i enthusiastically recalled following you before and how much i enjoyed it. i didn't even know about stellina, and now there's kep too! but... i also didn't know you'd lost boone. i followed because i still really enjoy your blog, and i love your collies too. and butters!!! so glad she's still here!

idk what made me look tonight... maybe because i talked about my old border collie with someone today. i went looking for the posts immediately around when you lost boone, because i guess some part of me wanted to know what happened. i spent the better part of an hour (maybe longer?) reading posts from the weeks before the decline, and then the loss, and then the deluge of old boone pictures after, and i've been crying pretty much the whole time just reading your posts and tags about him.

and this is a long and windy way to get to saying thank you. i'm glad you shared your grief, though that seems like a weird thing to say. there's something cathartic about crying over someone else's dog when you still hurt about your own, and knowing you're not alone in that kind of sorrow. boone was such a beautiful boy. i'll never forget that silly post that made me check your blog out in the first place, or the years of posts i stuck around for after. i wish i'd remembered to follow sooner, but the archive is still there, and it's so fun looking through all those old posts about him and his quirks and antics. he was amazing.

sorry for the length of this, i just... really wanted you to know that he touched yet another life, i guess. and i've been so deeply enjoying your posts about stellina and kep. i know it'll be a year soon... i hope there's some peace in how things have gone since he passed, and i hope the anniversary isn't too hard on you. thank you for sharing him with us.

i've been on tumblr for 14 years and this is, genuinely, the nicest ask i think i've ever been sent.

thank you - sincerely. there's been a lot of times over the course of this blog that i've felt like i was oversharing, or talking about pointless things only i cared about. i still so frequently start typing out a post only to stop mid-sentence and delete it because i can't help but think "no one cares about this." possibly it's why i like to talk about my pets so much - they're not me, but i'm the one who knows them best, so i get to say "hey look at this" and ramble and have people say "i'm looking" back. when boone passed, i lost that filter and i poured my grief out into this blog because it was the closest outlet i had. and to have hundreds of people not only acknowledge this but to commiserate, to reassure, to share their own stories - that helped healed me more than i can put into words. it's exactly as you said: there's a catharsis in grieving together.

i am sorry you also had to say goodbye. i wish i could say it gets easier, but i think that would be defeating the point of grief. your grief is your love and damn it if there isn't any act more loving in the world than choosing to say goodbye to an old, loyal dog. you think of how dogs were domesticated tens of thousands of years ago, of how human society and dogs have developed intertwined, of how we have records of ancient greeks and romans carving loving epitaths on their dog's graves, of how a prehistoric dog's skull was found with a bone placed in it's mouth after death, and you wonder if grieving a dog isn't one of the most consistent experiences in the whole of human history that there is.

i'm glad to know that this could bring you some comfort, in some way. it's incredibly touching to know that you kept me and boone in your thoughts for all this time. i am doing ok - i've been reflecting a lot as we approach the one-year mark. i'm not sure if i'll be able to condense those thoughts down into coherent words, but i'll do my best. i hope that my silly little pets continue to bring you some happiness, and that you've found peace with your own grief.

thank you, again - this is extremely touching and means a hell of a lot to me.

[daegall]

☆ macrocosm

➷ in which Luke would send you the sun and every asteroid, and you'd send him the moon and the stars.

pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slight angst, established relationship!AU

warnings: one tiny injury, some cheesiness, and um issues with parents? also reader is implied to be female!!

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: hi all!!! my first time (and probably last LOL) time writing anything pjo :000 unless my brainrot gets bigger, i think this is the only thing i will only release, I hope you all enjoy and I'm sorry if I made any mistakes!! dont hesitate to tell me if i did or if i forgot to add a warning ^^ have a great day and merry late christmas!!!

Luke Castellan is a great source of your happiness.

Whether it be bringing you a small snack while you work endlessly in the infirmary, or sitting there with you, waiting for you to finally be free of work to finally have a chat with you, with the biggest smile on his lips.

Or it could be from how he always strives to protect you, jumping right in the middle of an attack during capture the flag.

"I can handle myself, Luke." You'd tell him.

He believes you. Every bit of his being believes you. You're amazing with a sword, even more with a bow. Yet something in him pushes him to shield you from any form of danger.

Even when you feel the need to be annoyed at him, in the slightest. His sheepish, almost apologetic smile he gives you pulls at your heartstrings, like a magnet. To be honest, you'd surrender your entire being for him, you'd send him the moon and the stars if he asked you to. You just love him too much.

However, Luke Castellan is also sometimes (never) a pain in your ass.

Such as now, as he once again, shoots you a sheepish smile as he shows up at the entrance of the infirmary.

"What are you doing here?" You question him instantly. Although you have a rough scrunch in your eyebrows, and your arms are crossed, Luke knows you like the back of his hand.

The way your fingers fiddle lightly with the loose string of your orange T-shirt shows how you're genuinely worried, and there's just the slightest curl at your lips that he catches.

Luke pouts at you. You ought to punch him at how cute he looks.

"What? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?"

You scoff, but don't distance yourself from him when he walks forward to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not when I'm pretty sure you have counselor duties,"

Warmth spreads through you, a familiar, nostalgic one. Such as a warm home, or a campfire, it ripples through your soul and body, as Luke's fingertips caress you gently.

"I got hurt," He replies simply.

As expected, his words cause you to pull away almost immediately, your hands cupping around his cheeks softly, as you tilt his head to check every surface of his skin.

Although Luke hates making you worry, he adores the way you care for him.

With a sly smirk, Luke raises his index finger slowly, watching as your eyes trail from his own, to his hand, and finally, the small cut on his finger.

In an instant, you push Luke away playfully, huffing in relief. "You idiot! I thought you were hurt!"

"But you don't understand," He sighs dramatically. Your lips curl up from his overexaggerated sad expression, holding a hand to his heart. "how much my heart hurts when I'm away from you,"

With a roll of your eyes, you step away from your boyfriend, walking to the other side of the infirmary to grab a bandaid. Luke follows you, as if a magnet, watching and admiring your every move.

He watches as you unwrap the bandaid, adores you as you wrap it around his finger carefully, and if he could, he would praise you as you place a small kiss on top of it. Praise you more than he's ever praised to his father, or any other god.

"Better?"

And when he looks in your eyes, he sees his whole universe. Doesn't matter if he's a human, or half god, or if the whole mystical world existed in the universe. As long as it had you, he knew he'd yearn for it for eternity.

And suddenly, there's a flicker. Luke doesn't know how he notices it, not when it's there for only the slightest moment, but he doesn't care.

You're sad.

Another great thing about your great boyfriend, he loves to comfort you.

His fingers caress lightly at the skin of your cheek, frowning worriedly. "Are you okay?"

You're surprised at his attention to the smallest details, confusion evident on your face. "How did you—"

"—I just know, baby," He chuckles. "now tell me, are you okay?"

You can't explain it. But you try, for Luke. You'd do anything for him.

"My dad," You start. This time, it's Luke's heartstrings that are pulled dangerously at. He knows how complicated your relationship with your dad is—hell, everyone at camp has a complicated relationship with their God parent!

Luke's thumb strokes your cheek dearly, urging you to continue.

"He... visited my sibling? I guess? I mean, not directly but, yeah,"

You are a person who's strong, who's always put together, even more so when you have to take care of people every day. Seeing you so... hurt, so vulnerable and weak, Luke wants to curse at Apollo himself, but knows better. He's not worth it. You, however, Luke will stay and wait forever for.

"He visited my brother in a dream. They had a whole conversation, caught up, and I'm happy for him, I am! I just—" You can't keep your lip from wobbling, your heart shaking just at the thought of what your brother had told the whole cabin just this morning.

They were all happy, so were you, asking him countless questions and eager to know how their father is doing, but you can't help but feel jealous.

Luke nods in understanding as you tell him this.

"I mean, he visits my brother, has a whole conversation with him all night in his dream... and he can barely spare a single word for me? What, not even a sign the he cares, that he's here?"

And when tears cascade down your cheek, Luke wants to destroy Olympus with his own bare hands. Maybe for another day, for now, he'll coo and bring you into his embrace, stroking at your back affectionately.

"It's okay baby, it's just me. Let it all out,"

Pent up stress from the week, added with your jealousy and confusion results in a full sob into your lover's shoulder, as he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear.

"I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Your soul cleanses from the hatred and envy, replaced with the love and care that Luke provides, feeling safety and solace in his embrace alone.

"I'm sorry for burdening you like this,"

Luke's heart nearly physically cracks at your words, even more at your defeated eyes peering up at him.

He shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "Don't be sorry, baby," He mumbles, before pressing another kiss to your cheeks, pecking away your tears. "you could never burden me."

Finally, immense joy and love resonates through you, as it radiates off Luke and onto you, like the sun shines its rays onto earth, you feel complete with him.

"Thank you," You breathe out, staring into Luke's eyes with the most gratitude and love. And once again, he sees those eyes. The eyes that hold his universe, the eyes he'd yearn for forever. And when he leans down to connect your lips in a soft, loving kiss, he knows he will yearn them forever.

You'd send the moon and all the stars his way.

Luke would go to hell and back for you, he'd destroy Olympus for you. He'd be your sun and every asteroid, and you his moon and stars. Together, you'd have your own little universe, just for the two of you. Doesn't matter if you're human, or demigod, as long as he has you, and you have him, it'll forever be complete.

[snaileer]

Wrong Number? Wrong Answer.

It was the usual deal that the Justice League Dark dealt with… way too often honestly.

Initially, it had been just Wonder Woman, investigating a cult that had attempted to abduct her earlier in the month.

Diana had defeated them. Easily. Of course. But upon questioning them, their reasoning had concerned her.

They had attacked her for a ritual to open the ‘Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep’, a ritual which required ‘a blade blackened by the ichor of time.’

Once again, she was being targeted for her parentage. Did it ever end?

Of course, she questioned them further, what other ingredients did they need, what artifacts they would be hurting others to create.

A ring carved from the bone of an unfreed slave.

A crown made of lava untouched by human hands.

And sand directly from the pouch of Dream of the Endless themself.

It was an eclectic collection of items.

And yet, they had told her that only the blade remained to be created.

Again, it was concerning.

So Diana left the fools to be taken care of by men’s authorities, and focused on tracking down just what they were doing and if necessary, how to stop it.

After depleting her academic resources, and her connections within with nothing to show, Diana finally called in her friend through the league, Zatanna.

Zatanna had been frazzled by it, showing up in her living room before they’d even finished the call.

Together they tracked down the cult to Gotham… which was also a problem.

It was the reason why Diana was running through the caves beneath the crime ridden city with one of her closest friends in men’s world and a magician by her side.

All too quickly, they were surrounded by fanatics, each carrying sharp blades solely focused on her.

Working in sync with Batman and Zatanna throwing spells above them, Diana believed it would be a well-won battle.

Until a golden light flashed across the cave, blinding her for a precious second as she felt a sharp sting cut across her arm.

When her vision cleared, her arm was dripping blood and John Constantine stood in front of her.

“Sorry about that, love,” Constantine smirks, “No harm done?”

Diana’s teeth grind together as she turns away from him, fighting her way through more followers. The one who had injured her is nowhere to be seen, and the blade with them.

Even once the rest of the swarm is beaten, their numbers no longer being replenished, Diana does not feel content. The sense of danger lingers.

“Constantine.” Batman growls, “What are you doing in Gotham?”

The Brit rolls his eyes as he lights a new cigarette, “You know I don’t actually have to tell you every time I enter the city right? But besides, that’s news to me, portals are a tricky business, I’m tracking my own problem.”

Batman glares at him.

“Someone stole from me mate. And whatever they stole it for can’t be good, so I’m here ta get it back. Thought you’d be proud of something like that, Batsy, insteada leavin’ it for someone else?”

Batman’s eyes darken, “We’re tracking a group trying to open the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep, is your artifact related to that?”

“Fucking shit it is yeah! Bollocks I didn’t think they’d be using the dream sand for something like that, what sort of mannies are these?!” Constantine exclaims, hastily grinding his cigarette beneath his shoe.

“Hn.”

Suddenly, there’s a rattling boom, the ground and walls shaking around them as dust rains down and they are all forced into stabilizing stances.

They barely share a glance before all three are running down the hall to the source, Constantine left scrambling to keep up.

The scene they come to is equal parts confusing as it is problematic.

The cultists are each in states of disrepair, crusting on the edges or yelling at their leader. The leader is the first to notice their arrival.

“You! You say you are a child of Zeus and yet your blood does not work! You lie of your ancestry!”

Diana steps forward, “I do not! I am the daughter of Queen Hippolyta and Zeus, grandchild of Kronos! The fault of your magic does not lie with me!”

The leaders face twists, mouth open to shout, but a flash of gold slams into him.

“Z, the book!” Constantine yells, arms outstretched as he flings more spells at the surrounding people, glowing ropes binding each.

“On it! Etativel em dna eht koob!” Zatanna shouts, lifting into the air as a book the leader had been holding flies into her hands.

Immediately she begins turning pages with desperation, “Wohs em eht stsitluc lleps!”

The book flips to a distinct page, and Zatanna’s face drains of color.

“Batman, we need to be careful, this spell looks legitimate, we might still have a risk on our hands.”

Batman hummed, looking at the chalk lines of the summoning circle drawn out before them, drawing Diana to do the same. Looking closely at the artifacts placed at each cardinal direction, including a short dagger with her blood nearly completely dry on the flat of the blade.

Batman moves towards the gathered and bound cultists as both magicians whisper over the spell.

Diana continues to look out on the evidence of the ritual, confusion warring in her.

She lays a hand on the lasso at her side. She knew she had not been lying about her heritage, so then why….

‘A blade blackened by the ichor of time.’

She looks at the bloodied dagger once more. It didn’t make sense, even if they had managed to harm a godly descendent, pure ichor would be gold; and even her blood was simply a humanly deep crimson red, not black; not until it-

Diana lunges towards the knife, fingertips brushing its hilt just as her blood dries a flaky black.

Her body slams into the cave walls in the next second, percussive force rippling through the air.

She crumples to the ground, struggling to lift her head.

White boots pass in front of her eyes.

She watches as they move towards her colleague, her friend, only to be surprised as they stop in front of the cultists instead.

As the air returns to her body, Diana lifts herself up, shaking arms supporting her as the weight of the atmosphere presses down.

She looks at the being, the sight almost making her collapse once more.

Mist curls around its form like a mountain peak, iridescent light glowing near its head, pitch black night covering its body, the pinprick of stars so small you can’t see them straight on, claws like a falcon’s beak: unhidden and meant to tear apart. And more importantly, wrapped around the leaders neck.

““̵̨̮̣̀͊̓Y̷͖̊̒o̸̤͈͍͌̈́͘u̶̗̭̲̍ ̵̬̤̞̀̑ā̴̟r̸̹̝̉e̴̞̦̮͑̍ ̴̣̩̖͑̓͛a̷̮̞͍͊͆͝ ̶͍̀̈́́f̷̖̄ò̸͈̓͝ǫ̷̅̀̔l̶̹̥̹̋͌͠.̴̤̲̈́͋̀”̶̛̫̺̈́”

The voice rattles her heart within her chest. She watches as Batman continues to try and stand.

The cultist struggles against the hand, mumbling screams behind Constantine’s bind. The creature tears it off with one claw.

“We summ-moned-… the king! Pa-pariah-!“

The creatures hand barely twitches, but the cultist breaks off in a scream. She is surprised to note the other cultists react exactly alike. As if linked.

“̵̻͝Ý̷͚o̶͈͝u̷̦̐ ̶̆͜d̶͈̄ǐ̸̢d̵̲̓ ̴͖̽n̴̘̅ȯ̸͍t̵̛̯ ̴̫̐ŝ̵̗u̴̹̇m̶̨͠m̴̡̽o̴̱̐n̵̘͝ ̴̪̈h̴̨̀i̶͝ͅm̸̰͗.̴͍͆”̸͔̔ The creature growls, “À̴̳n̸̛̜d̶͒ͅ ̴̤̃y̸̬͝ǫ̸̒u̵̫͗ ̶̘͛a̴̫̐r̷̠̈e̶͂ͅ ̶͔̋ḽ̶̔ủ̷͜c̷̥̍k̴̲͊ÿ̸̯́ ̶͓́f̷͇͝o̷͎͒ŕ̴͇ ̶͔͝t̶̞̀h̸̲̉ȧ̸̮t̷̩͝.̷͔̍ ̵͙͐I̸͎͌f̶͖͛ ̶̜̇y̵̜͗o̴̩̍ṵ̶͆ ̵̫̈́h̴͛ͅā̴̼d̸̤͆…̵͍̈́i̵͍̐t̸̡̉ ̴̭͂w̷̥̔o̷̟̅u̴̪͂l̸̞̏d̵͚̀ ̵͓̃b̴̢̽e̵̗͠ ̸͕̉m̸̠͆u̶̖͘c̷̯͘h̴̤̎ ̸̥́w̷͚͝o̸͐ͅr̶̦͐s̵̨̿e̸͕͆ ̸̙̑f̴̧̂o̶̱̓ȓ̷̟ ̴̠͗ÿ̸̥́ö̵͜ŭ̶̟.̵͎̉”̶͍̀

The man whimpers under the claws.

"I̴n̷s̵t̴e̷a̵d̸,̶ ̵y̸o̷u̵ ̴g̵o̷t̶ ̷m̸e̸,̴I̴ ̶g̵u̸a̷r̶d̴ ̶h̶i̷s̵ ̶p̸r̸i̵s̵o̵n̶ ̶b̶e̷c̴a̷u̴s̶e̸ ̵I w̴a̸s̴ ̵t̴h̸e̷ ̸o̴n̸e̴ ̷t̸o̶ ̶p̵u̴t̵ ̴h̸i̴m̶ ̵t̴h̷e̸r̶e̴ ̵o̶n̵c̸e̵ ̶m̶o̸r̸e̸.̵”̴ The creature leans into the cultist, arching ever higher, angles sharpening, body distorting, "“̸̝͋a̵̱͋n̶͓͛d̵̘́ ̵̡̍f̷̱͊o̵͚̓r̷̪̎ ̴̭̑a̷̬̓s̷͙̅ ̷͍͌ĺ̵̫o̸̻͆ņ̵̀g̶̚ͅ ̷̬͌a̶̮̿s̵̩͊ ̸̫̌t̸̲̕h̸̢̉e̷̖͗ ̴̰̋c̸̹̀ȍ̸͎s̷̡̃m̵̥̍o̷̜͋s̷̗͐ ̴̜͆e̷̛̙x̸͓̑i̶͉̿s̸̹̀t̵̛̺,̴̡͠Í̷̢ ̷̣̽w̵̠͋i̶̺͒l̴̠͐l̸̮̃ ̴͍͌k̴̰̑e̸̠͐e̷̟͋p̵̲̏ ̸̙̂h̷̘͋ị̸́m̸͕̚ ̶̳̋t̶̡̒h̷̩͆e̷̪͝r̷̒͜e̵̡̔.̵̭͗”̵̮̔

There’s a dull flash as light flashes beneath the cultists skin, beneath all of the cultist’s skin, before they drop to the ground unconscious.

All too quickly, air returns to the room, pressure lifting like a deep breath into the room.

The creature turns, eyes meeting Diana’s for just a second as he turns towards the chalked lines of the circle. Diana lifts herself to her feet, drawing closer to Batman as they both watch him, hesitant.

On the other side of the room, Constantine and Zatanna also struggle to their feet, eyes filled with fear and caution as they take in the scene.

As the creature moves, mist still rolling off him in waves, his features fall away with it, gradually smoothing to a more human visage. It looks… young. Boyish.

Those same white boots crush down on the formed crown, the cooled lava rock crumbling under one step. Next is the ring, held carefully in two hands the creature whispers over it, breathy wind carrying it away as it turns to dust. He holds the blade with one hand, flakes disintegrating off as he lifts it.

Diana’s arm tingles.

Then the creature is standing in front of the last point, holding the small brown pouch of sand with consideration.

Silence reigns in the room.

Constantine, of course, is the one to break it.

“I believe that’s mine, mate,” he cuts in, stance still laden with suspicion.

“Oh?” The creature smiles, almost mockingly as he turns to Constantine, “Is it? If I wasn’t mistaken, this ritual calls for Dream’s sand. Are you Dream of the Endless, little magician?”

Constantine visibly swallows, “I’m not.”

The creature huffs a laugh, fangs glinting in his smirk. He moves swiftly, pivoting on one foot to toss the pouch at Constantine, “Catch.”

Constantine lurches forward to try and catch it, only to find it vanish in the air before it reaches his fingers.

The creature cackles, floating backwards, “What did you do to get your hands on such an amount of Dream’s sand, magician? I’m curious.”

“It was a family present,” Constantine grinds out as he turns back to the gently levitating humanoid form, “You can drop the kid facade by the way, you’re not tricking anyone here looking like that.”

The creature shrugs, “And if I’m comfortable like this?”

Diana steps in to stop Constantine from snapping back, “Who are you, spirit, to be summoned by such a ritual?”

The creature watches her for a beat, “I am Phantom of the Dead City, Protector of infinite realms. They did not bring me here, but I knew who they wished to summon and came because of it.”

Batman steps forward, voice interrogating, “The Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep-“

“Remains sealed. The Tyrant King remains trapped and at rest, do not worry.”

Somehow Diana does not think that soothes Batman, even as a great a warrior as he is.

“Hn.”

“Now, about that spell book,” Phantom turns to Zatanna, waving a hand and the book flies to him. He hovers a hand over it, and Diana watches in fascination as the chalk on the floor begins to burn away, the drawing in the book following.

Phantom looks at her once more, eyes too wise and strong for the age of his face, and then from one moment to the next, he is gone.

The book drops to the floor with a slam, cover open to aged blank pages as the last of the sigil burns away.

Hesitantly, Constantine goes to it, the rest of them following. When Constantine lifts the book with careful hands, they watch another image fade into view on the paper.

A cool colored image of Phantom rising over a city skyline outlined in green against a deep violet sky. Even on paper, his visage shifts constantly between the boyish figure and the ethereal danger of the form he’d appeared in.

Beneath the city lays a large coffin covered in chains.

The lock glows a pulsing toxic green before fading to a steely gunmetal grey and going still.

“Well that was the best encounter I’ve had with a dangerous dimensional figure and I still lost the dream sand.”

Zatanna’s slap echoes in the cave.

[nana-gumi]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋

anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe

a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p

next

it was positive.

the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.

how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.

and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.

"hello?"

"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"

"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.

"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.

"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.

"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."

"mhm, i love you too."

-

if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.

and here he comes.

satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.

"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.

his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.

"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.

"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.

you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.

"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."

"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..

what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.

"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.

"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.

"4 months."

"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.

"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."

"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.

"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.

-

"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"

"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.

"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.

"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."

-

satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.

"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.

"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."

"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"

"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."

"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."

"no–"

"why are you being stubborn!"

"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.

"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.

"(name), please.."

"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?

satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.

"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.

"i swear with all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."

"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."

"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.

"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"

"love, please. i'm so sorry."

"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"

"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.

"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."

"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."

he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.

"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.

satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.

"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.

a week has passed.

"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.

"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?

"how have you been?"

"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.

"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"

"no, i just don't feel well."

"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.

"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.

"you always say that."

-

"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.

you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.

"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.

"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.

"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.

"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.

is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?

"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.

"okay."

"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.

"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.

"do you want to have one?"

"i'd love to have a happy family with you."

"is that so? but why sanyu?"

"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.

"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"

"instincts."

-

his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.

unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.

"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.

"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.

"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.

you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.

"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"

"okay. love love mama, papa."

-

you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. your eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.

his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.

"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.

"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."

"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."

"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"

"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"

"well– he's doing good."

"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"

"of course. is it about satoru?"

"kind of?"

"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."

oh.

"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."

-

suguru arrived earlier than you expected it to.

"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.

"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"

"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.

"mama!"

"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.

"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.

"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the side.

"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.

"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.

"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.

-

"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.

"he's 4 years old."

"does satoru know?"

"no."

"then tell him." easier said than done.

"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.

"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.

"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."

"i understand, don't worry about it too much."

"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.

"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"

"okay, thank you.."

-

"you look like your papa."

"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."

"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.

"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.

"he is. and he loves your mama so much."

"then why is he always busy?"

"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not ask those type of questions as he frowned.

and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.

-

"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."

"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?

part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?

you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.

"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.

"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.

satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.

"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.

"gojo–"

"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"

get straight to the point.

"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.

"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.

"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw in your life appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."

"i'm sorry (name)."

"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.

"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.

"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.

"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.

"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.

"why?"

"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."

"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh but something just hurts.

"right."

"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.

"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.

"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.

but, why was this happening to you? of all people?

"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"

"mama, sorry."

"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.

"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.

"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"

-

"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.

the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.

"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."

"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"

"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.

and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.

-

"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.

"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.

"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."

"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."

"what happened?" suguru asked.

"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as his breath hitched silenty.

"yeah." he mumbled.

"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"

"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.

"it's fine. i trust shoko too."

"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"

"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."

"listen–"

"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

[daintyys]

all i wanted was you

fem!reader x touchy bestfriend!james potter, 500 words

modern/nonmagical au. pls send james reqs!! also this isnt proofread i needed to post it urgently. ps happy thanksgiving

"Have you eaten yet?" James asked, leaning in the doorway staring at you. Your cramps were unbearable, and the only way you could get any sort of comfort was curling in a ball on the bedroom floor. You mumbled a response, which he didn't hear. He made his way over to you, and sat on the floor next to you.

"Your period?" He questioned, rubbing your arm. You nodded and closed your eyes. His touch was so comforting. "I'm sorry, love." James whispered, helping you sit up.

You groaned, and wrapped your arms around your stomach. "I want to stay on the floor, James." He shook his head and took your hand, standing you up. "You need to eat, come here." He said, putting his hand firmly on your lower back.

He took you to the kitchen of your flat and you sat at the table. You tried not to cry as your cramping became worse. You laid your head on the table and brought your knees to your chest, trying to relieve pressure in your abdomen. "I know it hurts but you need to eat." Your best friend said as he put a bowl of soup in front of you. He sat beside you and adjusted his glasses so he could see you better.

You ate slowly, and once you were done, your cramps hadn't gotten much better. "Feel any better, Y/N?" James questioned, intertwining your fingers with his. You shook your head. "Nothings working, Jamie." You groaned. Standing, you made your way back to your bedroom and flopped on your bed. James followed, and crawled into bed with you.

He laid in between your legs with his head on your chest, keeping you warm. You sighed, his warmth was helping with your cramping. "Feels good, doesn't it, love?" He cooed, twirling your hair in his fingers. You nodded and smiled as you traced his spine. He laughed appreciatively and looked up at you.

"You're beautiful, y'know." James flattered.

You blushed, and kissed his forehead gently. "Most would say that was flirting with me, James." You hummed.

"It was." James crooned, moving his hands under your back to hug you closer. You hummed in approval and ran your fingers through his hair. "'M sorry you feel so sick, baby." He sighed. "I feel better now that you're taking care of me." You admitted. James squirmed a little, adjusting his position to look up at you again.

"A kiss would take all the pain away, Y/N." He grinned, and his glasses were lopsided on his face. You nodded, and he cupped your jaw in his hands, gently kissing you.

He pulled away, face burning red.

"You're right, that did help a lot." You smiled at him. James giggled nervously , and hid his embarrassed face in your chest. "Don't be embarrassed," You whispered. "I like you too."

You felt him laugh against your chest, and you soon found your bodies intertwined, being each other's one sense of complete comfort.

[wileys-russo]

filling the void (3) II a.putellas x sister!reader

prequel one two

since you all wanted to be hurt so bad here is more angst! and for the sake of the broken and left behind younger sibling support club, a little comfort and some steps forward too - song i listened to when writing was we might be dead by tomorrow by Soko! filling the void (3) II a.putellas x sister!reader

after your outburst it worried eli to watch you retract into yourself, and for an entire week bar going to work you hardly left your room.

something out of character for someone like yourself who since your sisters decided they didn't want to spend time with you anymore, had thrown yourself head first into social activities with people who did.

you still saw your friends at work and when they drove you home or picked you up for a shift, but you had a variety of excuses to avoid the dinners or hang outs you were invited to outside of that, alarming not only eli but also your friends now.

your friends had all of course been filled in on the discourse of your apparent abandonment, having assured you time and time again that it wasn't your fault.

they spent time affirming to you that it was just an unfortunate side affect of the large age gap which wasn't something you had any control over. they all did their best to make you feel supported in your emotions whilst also encouraging you not give up on the relationship with your sisters entirely.

something that probably would have benefited both alexia and alba to know, at first feeling sorry for themselves after your outburst. this was then channeled into a disapproval for these new older friends you kept close.

guards went up from both of your sisters about how these strangers were trying to replace their space in your life, they were your older sisters not these new girls hanging around.

eli had all but banned alba and alexia from coming over throughout the week following your explosion at them, warning you needed space and time and that the more they pushed you the further away you'd pull, case in point your outburst in the first place which had spawned from both of them going at you too hard and too fast.

but when the weekend rolled around and still you made no move to leave the comfort of your bedroom or the family home eli decided maybe it was time she step in a little, unable to see any change in your antisocial behaviour unless she offered a somewhat forceful helping hand.

"hija." you looked up from a book your head was buried in with a raised eyebrow. "i am going to watch alexia's game soon." eli started as you noted she was dressed in a barcelona jersey with alexias name and number proudly on the back.

"okay." you nodded with a small frown of suspicion, unsure why she was really telling you this and sensing maybe there was more to it.

"you should come with me." the woman continued encouragingly with a warm smile. "are you asking me or telling me mami?" you questioned with a sigh making the older woman chuckle.

"telling. you have not left the house all week nena and i am worried about you." her voice softened the last few words as you sighed. "mami i'm fine! i am going to see my friends tomorrow night." you promised as she hummed.

"really? that is good then." eli smiled happily as you hummed. "sí, they said if i did not come willingly they would break in here and kidnap me, so i didn't really have a choice." you sighed making your mami chuckle.

"bien. now get dressed we leave in ten minutes!" eli clapped as you made a face. "wait i still have to come?" you asked with a small groan as she nodded. "sí, i was telling not asking." the woman smiled as you groaned again but snapped your book shut.

and sure enough ten minutes later you were following her out the door albeit begrudgingly, your airpods confiscated the moment you tried to put them in, deflating even further as you slid into the car.

"don't look so miserable fresa, watching one football match will not kill you." eli chuckled throwing the car into reverse as you sighed dramatically. "i could only dream of being so lucky." you mumbled sliding on a pair of sunglasses.

"why are we here?" you questioned a little anxiously as you recognized the street she turned down a little while later. "picking up your hermana, she is also coming." eli spoke with a slight air of caution, glancing to you as you frowned clearly a little lost in your thoughts.

"mi hija i know your sisters have really hurt you i am not dismissing that, and i will not push you any further then you are ready to when it comes to letting them fix it. but you are all still my daughters and i enjoy spending time with all of you, together." eli tried to put it as gently as she could as you sighed but nodded none the less.

when you didn't say anything further eli didn't prompt you to do so, waving at alba who locked up her place behind her and made her way to the car, surprise flickering clearly across her face seeing you sat in the front seat.

"hola mami." your sister slid into the back, leaning forward and kissing eli's cheek, contemplating for a brief second whether to greet you in the same way but thinking better of it and settling back in her seat.

"hi fr-hermana." alba was quick to catch herself, eli flashing her a small smile through the rear view mirror as you hummed and mumbled back a greeting, gaze trained out the window.

you zoned out of the conversation which followed the duration of the drive to the stadium, alba trying a couple of times to include you but when she only received one word replies she recognized that was likely doing more harm than good and ceased her efforts.

you stuck out a little once you all arrived, finding your seats in the friends and family section and you were one of the only spectators sat without a jersey on.

you of course had more than enough to choose from. as you grew up alexia had gifted you with countless jerseys both for spain and barcelona.

some she'd played in during important games and wanted you to have over anyone else, and some were just spares, getting most of your immediate family members the latest kits as soon as they dropped.

but when you'd stopped bothering to go to her games you had assumed this ceased. but unbeknownst to you alexia had a whole horde of jerseys at her home for you, but at her own fault barely having spent much time with you had disallowed her to be able to gift them to you.

so even though you could have easily worn a barcelona jersey, you were still upset with both of your sisters. so to wear alexia's name and number on your back felt a little too close to home for the time being which eli had respected enough not to bring up when she'd noticed.

you'd managed to busy yourself with your phone for a good half an hour, sat on one side of your mami as alba sat on the other, the two engaged in their own conversation that your anti social behaviour prompted you not be involved in.

but everything changed when eli stood to use the bathroom before kick off, alba then taking it upon herself to slide across one seat now sat right beside you causing a small sigh to drop from your lips.

"hermana." alba started gently and you recognised where she'd be angling this conversation from the soft tone of her voice.

"alba por favor i really do not want to talk about the other night, i do not even want to be here." you exhaled honestly, watching the warm ups on the pitch and avoiding her eyes.

"then why did you come?" your sister asked curiously, propping her arm over the back of her chair to rest her head on her fist. "mami made me." you grumbled in annoyance crossing your arms across your chest with a frown.

"so you don't have a curfew and go out at all hours of the night doing whatever you want with her permission but mami can still make you come to ale's games?" alba spoke as your head whipped around to snap at her though seeing the teasing smile on her face you realized she wasn't serious.

"sí." a small smile crept onto your lips which disappeared quickly. "saw that." alba commented quietly, turning her eyes back to the pitch as yours rolled.

thankfully before you were subjected to anymore small talk eli returned, but to your dismay alba didn't move seats and instead was now sat still beside you as eli sat on her other side.

when warm ups finished alexia's eyes drifted to the crowd, spotting olga sat with a few friends and waving before looking for her family. she spotted eli with a grin, waving again as alba did the same and for a moment alexia's eyes glanced over you without a second thought.

but then they snapped right back and widened in shock, not having seen you at a game for a long time now she hadn't even realised the figure sat beside alba was you.

"mami made her come!" alba mouthed giving the captain a subtle thumbs up as you missed the entire thing, attention focused on your phone.

catching eli's eye next alexia mouthed a thank you as the older woman smiled and gave a curt nod, alexia hurrying off to follow after the team to the change room.

upset with her or not and no matter how long it had been since you were at estadi johan cruyff there was no denying your sister was a force to be reckoned with on the football pitch, and she was enigmatic to watch play.

just before she was subbed off in the second half alexia lined up near the goal when caro stepped up to take the corner, delivering the ball in perfectly for your sisters head to knock it into the back of the net.

you looked around as the crowd errupted, chanting alexia's name as you of course clapped her goal though without quite as much enthusiasm as those around you.

you watched your sister turn toward where the three of you were sat and make a weird signal with her hands, blowing a kiss at your mami before racing back for kick off.

"you saw that, sí?" alba nudged you with a grin as you gave her an odd look. "qué?" you questioned a little confused as to what you were supposed to have been looking at.

"ale's celebration. E, A, F." alba recreated it with her own hands as the strange look didn't drop from your face and your older sister rolled her eyes.

"e-" she pointed at eli beside her. "-a-" she pointed at herself. "-f." she pointed to you as it clicked. "oh." you mumbled, dropping your sunglasses down over your eyes and remaining quiet for the duration of the match.

"can i go wait at the car?" you asked hopefully, glancing to eli as the stadium had now mostly cleared and the girls friends and families were making their way down to the pitch to greet the team on their six to nil win.

"no, stay where i can see you please hija there are a lot of people around still. i think you should come say hi to your hermana, but i will not push you." eli squeezed your shoulder with a gentle smile as you nodded, staying in your seat as she headed down to the barrier where alexia was already speaking with olga and alba.

you pulled your knees up to your chest and sighed, doom scrolling through your social media's to try and pass time as you attempted to ignore the internal battle your mind was having whether to go greet your sister or not.

"well well well, hola diablillo." you jumped a little in shock as a new body dropped down into the seat beside you, sunglasses snatched from your face and placed onto her own as you couldn't help but grin.

"you are so annoying maría give them back!" you laughed reaching for them as she clicked her tongue and pushed your hand away each time you reached to take them back.

"no i think i will keep them, they look better on me anyway no?" mapi teased before pulling you into a hug. "it has been some time since we've seen you here diablillo." mapi's voice was a little softer now and you weren't sure if alexia had filled her in at all on what had happened lately.

"sí, i have been busy." you shrugged dismissively making mapi chuckle. "ohh because you are so grown up now, just a little worker girl hm? too grown up to slum it with your sisters friends at a football match." mapi teased pinching and pulling at your cheeks playfully.

as you caught up with the older girl who seemed in no rush to go greet the rest of her teammates you were too occupied to feel alexia's eyes where she watched on from the barrier.

eyebrows furrowing and a strange feeling twisting in her stomach at the way you easily conversed with her best friend, rough housing around with her and laughing, just like how you used to with alexia.

"amor." olga's hand caught her wrist as she jumped the barrier to head up toward you, giving her girlfriend a slight look of warning as alexia tugged her hand away.

"i am just going to say hi." alexia promised as olga still looked unsure but nodded, turning around as someone called her name and alexia headed off up into the stands.

"you know diablillo you are nearly old enough for some of these of your own, maybe you come over and i will bust out my gun sí?" mapi grinned wolfishly, showing you a few of her new tattoos.

your eyes lit up in awe as they traced the deep inkings which wrapped around the older girls limbs, the exact same way they had as a child when you first laid eyes on her.

"i don't know how our mami would feel about that maría, stop being a bad influence." alexia's tone was teasing but she didn't miss the way your entire body seemed to tense at her arrival, mapi grinning up at her best friend none the less.

"me? capitana i would never." mapi gasped, standing to her feet and messing up your hair before handing you back your sunglasses. "you call me and we can talk more about it. adios diablillo!" mapi addressed you now with a wink, messing up your hair before making her way down to where ingrid was waiting, the tall norweigan sending you a kind smile and a wave which you returned.

"hola." alexia recaptured your attention now, your body stiffening as she sat down beside you, your sister frowning a little as you leaned your body away from hers just slightly.

"did you enjoy the match?" alexia asked, cautious of her every word as you nodded. "sí, it was a good win." you acknowledged, resting your chin on your knee as your fingers drummed anxiously against your thigh.

"i am glad you came, i have missed seeing your face in the stands." alexia's next words sent a strange feeling through you. "you didn't even notice i stopped coming." your words came out before you could stop them, alexia deflating a little as still you refused to look at her.

"fresa-lo siento hermana." alexia was quick to correct, trying her best to remember snippets of what you said the other night. "i know i did not and i really really want to-" she couldn't even finish her sentence before you shot to your feet.

"i need to go to the bathroom." you were gone before alexia could blink, scrambling away like a startled deer as your sister sighed and tiredly dragged her hands down her face.

there was a soft touch to her shoulder and she glanced up to see her girlfriend looking down at her sympathetically. "no luck?" olga winced slightly as she sat down and alexia shook her head.

"i barely said two words and she was gone. she looked terrified, and of me!" alexia struggled to get out with another deep sigh as olga rubbed her back.

"we talked about this ale, slow. fresa needs time and i know you want to fix it cariño but you have to let her come to you, she needs to want to fix things." olga reminded softly as alexia nodded, kissing the girls cheek appreciatively before the two of them stood and made their way back down to the pitch.

your airpods finally returned to you they were quickly stuffed in your ears as you allowed alba the front seat and slipped into the back, swaying your head a little to the music bouncing around your head as eli drove home.

you were snapped back to attention as someone tapped your knee, pausing your music and pulling one of them out, alba having turned around from the front to smile at you as you were now stopped outside her house.

"would you want to get breakfast tomorrow?" your older sister asked careful not to come on a little too strong but it was hard not to miss the hopeful look in her eye.

"i have plans already." you declined as your sister nodded in understanding. "maybe another time then." she squeezed your knee quickly and kissed your mami's cheek goodbye, thanking her for driving before she was gone.

"are you going to get in the front nena or make me drive you home like a taxi?" eli caught your eye with raised brows making you grin, unbuckling yourself and moving to the front seat, your door closing and belt re-buckling before she drove off.

"i thought your friends were kidnapping you tomorrow night?" eli hinted subtly as you looked out the window and hummed. "they are." you confirmed with a small nod.

"do you have other breakfast plans then?" "no." you sighed, sensing some sort of lecture might follow.

"i'm not ready yet mami." you added on honestly, still trying to come to terms with it all and what you thought was best for you going forward now you had some time to process everything.

"fair enough fresa, take all the time you need. but know your hermana's do love you, very very much."

~

"this is nearly done, go choose something to watch." eli nodded as you moved off the stool you'd been sat on and headed toward the living room, clicking on the tv.

"something funny? a love story? action movie?" you called out as you flicked through the genre's. "mami do you have a pref-" you glanced toward her right as there was a loud clatter and your eyes widened.

"mami! estás bien?" you were by her side in an instant, the older woman clutching her chest and rapidly shaking her head as you panicked. "mierda!" you fumbled around in your pockets, pulling out your phone and calling for help.

you rattled off quickly what was happening, your anxiety sky rocketing as suddenly the older woman fell to the ground still clutching at her chest as the medical officer on the other end of the line calmly told you an ambulance was dispatched and talked you through what to do.

"mami? mami? mami!" you repeated, struggling to breathe yourself as suddenly the older womans eyes closed and she went limp and unresponsive. the operater encouraging you stay on the line and assuring the ambulance would be there any second now.

"i don't know if she's breathing!" you cried out, unsure how to check for a pulse as rapid knocks were heard at your door and you forced yourself away from eli's limp body, two paramedics barreling in the moment you unlocked the door.

the operator now hanging up a third paramedic gently assured you were doing all the right things and eli needed to go to hospital, promising you that she was still breathing as you nodded.

"is your papi here querida?" the paramedic asked softly as you watched them carefully load your mami onto a stretcher. "he's dead." you replied bluntly, panic peaking as the other two spoke so fast you couldn't understand but they were saying but you knew it was serious.

"venga, go get your shoes and you can ride with your mami in the ambulance." the older woman squeezed your shoulder with a kind smile, repeating the words and shaking you lightly when you remained rooted in spot watching them push the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

your worry only continued when no one could really give you any answers, only repeating you would be at the hospital soon as they lowered an oxygen mask onto eli and spoke to one another in what felt like a second language over her head.

it was worse when you finally did arrive to the hospital, your mami wheeled off and out of sight as you panicked when you were informed you couldn't go with her and would need to sign it at the front desk and wait in emergency for further information.

"how old are you cariño?" the receptionist asked carefully when taking down your information. "seventeen." you replied, eyes straying every few seconds to the doors eli had been wheeled away into as if willing she would miraculously walk back out and all would be fine.

"you need to be over eighteen to be an emergency contact and sign the paperworker for your mami. is there anyone else who could come?" the lady asked as you sighed but nodded, knowing exactly who you needed to call as you excused yourself and pulled out your phone.

"alexia? algo malo sucedió, i need you."

~

alexia thanked the gods that she wasn't caught by police as she flew down the streets of barcelona going easily double the speed limit, barely saying two words to olga before she had her keys in hand and was sprinting out the door already on the phone to alba.

finding a park she locked her car and raced across the lot, chest tightening as she stepped into the emergency department, eyes scanning the waiting room before finally spotting you.

you'd always been shorter than her but sat on the chair in the waiting room drowned in a hoodie which was two sizes too big and staring off into space you looked positively tiny in alexia's mind.

you jolted and tensed up as arms were thrown around you, alexia noticing right away and letting go trying not to focus on how much it pained her that even in the current situation you couldn't hug her.

"you have to go fill in the admission paperwork at the front desk." you mumbled with a nod, refusing to even look her in the eye as you tucked your knees to your chest resting your chin on them.

spotting alba over your shoulder alexia caught her eye and stepped away toward the front desk leaving you with her, glancing repeatedly to the two of you every few seconds as she filled in the necessary documents.

"someone will be out later with more information." was the only answer she got when asking for an update on eli's condition, frustrated but knowing that now all you could all do was wait.

"hermanita what happened?" alexia crouched down in front of you as alba sat beside you, you shifted a little uncomfortably under the intensity of their stares but sighed.

"i don't know. mami was making dinner and everything was fine, i stepped away to find something for us to watch and i looked over when she dropped something and she was just grabbing at her chest-" you began to recount, your sisters hanging off your every word.

"-she couldn't speak she didn't even yell out or cry in pain or anything she was just silent but she looked terrified. then i called the ambulance and she fell down and her eyes closed and she went limp, i didn't know if she was breathing." you exhaled shakily and paused for a second before continuing.

"she didn't respond to anything i said or did she just laid there. and then the paramedics came and put her on a stretcher and we went in the ambulance and came here. then they wheeled her off back there and wouldn't tell me anything because i'm not eighteen." you puffed out air through your nose at that last part.

"they wouldn't tell me anything either, just said someone will be out with more information later." alexia sighed wearily, standing to her feet and sitting on your other side.

"oh fresa." alba started sympathetically, stretching an arm across your shoulders intending to draw you into her side but you shrugged her off. "please don't touch me." you muttered, your sisters sharing a concerned look over your head.

"hey nena we just-" alexia tried next, her hand which sat on your leg pushed away as you wordlessly stood and moved to a different row of chairs on the other side of the room sitting back down.

"just give her some space ale, she's clearly shaken up." alba stopped alexia where she stood to follow you. "even now she runs away like she's scared. mierda we're in the hospital!" alexia snapped as alba pulled her into a hug.

"she's not scared of you alexia she's just hurt, and we both know she has every right to be." alba reminded as the older girl exhaled and sunk back into her chair with a nod, both of them watching you cautiously as you seemed on another planet just looking off into space.

"segura?" around an hour later an official looking woman in scrubs and a clipboard called out, both of your sisters up and on their feet as you were quick to follow.

"daughters?" the woman clarified as you all nodded.

"your mami went into mild cardiac arrest, she's mostly stable but still out while we run some more tests to try and determine the cause. her heartbeat is quite irregular and she's having trouble breathing on her own so we've got her hooked up to a ventilator." the woman explained reading off her clipboard.

"can we see her?" alexia asked hopefully, deflating at the shake of head that followed. "she's in the coronary ward but she's being taken for some more tests soon. once we get the results of these initial ones she's just had someone will come speak to you, but all three of you don't need to be here." you frowned as that last sentence was clearly directed your way.

"gracias but we will all be staying." alexia stepped up protectively, the woman nodding before she stepped away and alexia rolled her eyes. "hey, have you eaten?" alba suddenly realised looking at you as you shook your head.

"vamos, the cafeteria should still be open." alba encouraged as you made no move to argue with her, tucking your hands into the pockets of your hoodie and nodding.

"go call olga. do you want a coffee?" alba checked as alexia nodded appreciatively, all three of you parting ways. you seemed lost in your own head as you arrived to the cafeteria, alba bumping you gently with her shoulder and nodding for you to pick something.

anxious and uptight you simply chose a sandwich, not really wanting to eat but knowing your sister well enough that if you didn't pick something she'd just pick for you.

"coffee?" alba offered as you shook your head, quickly paying for your sandwich before she could. "hey! i would have gotten that." your sister shoved you lightly as you shrugged, alba relieved when you didn't complain about the slight touch. "i have money." you replied dismissively, moving to take a seat while alba waited for their coffees.

it would seem you were hungrier than you realised as you polished off the sandwich in a few bites, finishing right as alba grabbed the coffees and you stood to follow her back to the waiting room, grateful she wasn't trying to push a conversation.

you took your seat again on the other side of the room to your sisters, missing the way their eyes raked over you with concern at how you stared blankly off into space, not a hint of emotion present in your features.

you of course were plagued with emotions, especially a growing anxiousness toward all the 'what ifs' which came with your mami's hospitalization and all the unknown details.

but determined to prove once and for all you weren't a baby anymore you'd bottled these feelings up, keeping them under lock and key in your own mind as you did your best not to let them show.

though as more time passed that anxiety grew and grew and grew and suddenly you couldn't seem to rid your brain of all the worse case scenarios racing around on repeat, sending your body into a sort of shock as you blocked out the world around you.

shaking your head and trying to zone back in you stood, needing a drink of some sorts and remembering having passed a vending machine on your way back from the cafeteria.

alexia watched you go with a small frown, alba having somehow fallen asleep in the hard chair next to her as the time was now nearing midnight and still they'd had no further news.

the overprotective older sister in her told her to call olga and have her come pick you up and take you to their home, though the slightly quieter but more rational side knew if she even suggested that it would only upset you and you'd refuse.

when a few minutes passed and you didn't return alexia grew a little worried, shaking a grumpy alba back awake and shoving half a cold coffee into her hand before following after you.

you glared at the vending machine in annoyance as again you tapped your phone to pay and punched in the numbers for the drink you wanted but it made no move to deliver it to you.

"vamos!" you shook it hoping that might help though to no avail as again nothing happened. trying another two times you were getting dangerously close to a breakdown as all of your bottled up emotions simmered on the surface and you gave the machine a hard kick.

finally the arm moved and grabbed the drink you wanted, but your eyes widened in disbelief as it seemed to die before it could drop into the awaiting chute, the entire machine going dark.

and that, that was what caused you to snap.

a string of curses left your mouth and hot tears welled up in the corner of your eyes as you kicked the machine over and over, missing alexia appear at the end of the hallway and race toward you.

"hey hey hey." you tensed as her arms grabbed your biceps and pulled you away, delivering one last hard kick to the machine before alexia had tugged you out of reach.

"get off!" you grunted though it came out as more of a choked up broken sob as alexia's heart dropped and despite the warning voice in the back of her head she refused to let go.

"alexia let go of me!" you cried out trying to pull away but your sister shook her head. "no." you weren't sure if it was the tone of her voice, your sheer exhaustion or the final overflow of the emotions which had been simmering for the last few hours but you gave in.

it was now alexia who tensed up in surprise as you suddenly turned in her arms and hugged her tightly, fists balling at her jumper as alexia relaxed and held you.

"está bien fresa, está bien. mami will be fine, everything will be fine." your sister cooed, hand rubbing small circles on your back as the other cradled your head which pressed into her shoulder.

a nurse walking past gave alexia a sympathetic smile which she returned, whispering assuring words in your ear and holding you tightly, no different than she would when you were upset and much younger.

after a few minutes you managed to calm yourself down a little, and realising who it was that was actively holding you had you pulling away and wiping your eyes with the corner of your sleeves.

"do you want to go for a walk?" alexia offered softly, and as much as the prospect of being alone with her wasn't ideal you really weren't up for returning to the silent stark white waiting room just yet so you nodded.

"wait." alexia held up a finger, glancing around to make sure no one was around before quite literally ramming her body shoulder first into the vending machine as your drink dropped down into the chute from the force.

"needed a footballers touch." your sister smiled handing it to you as you quietly thanked her. not really with any destination in mind the two of you started to wander, a comfortable distance between you as alexia ignored the urge to tuck you into her side like she would when you were younger.

"i do not think i have been in hospital this time of night since you broke your arm." alexia chanced a conversation, sending you a look which you met with a frown.

"i didn't break it alba broke it." you muttered with a slight huff causing a smile to curl onto your sisters lips at the memory.

you were eight years old and eli was working a night shift which left you in the care of both your older sisters for the evening.

showered and dinner had you'd all been watching a movie, dirty dancing, one you found incredibly boring and made a point to tell both your sisters this repeatedly throughout the entire film.

"he's strong!" you marveled as suddenly the main actor lifted his female counterpart into the air, holding her up easily and turning her around mid air. "pft thats easy!" alba dismissed with a scoff as you lifted your head from alexia's lap.

"you couldn't do it, chicken legs." you challenged as alba shot you a filthy glare which had you shrinking into your eldest sister who'd fallen asleep not long after the movie started, having trained twice today and gotten up early for a run.

"could too!" alba shot back as you shook your head. "could not." "could too!" "could not!" "could too!" "could not!"

"cállate por favor!" alexia interjected with a tired groan, eyes fluttering open and her hand moving to cover your mouth as you went to continue the argument.

"you are arguing with an eight year old?" alexia sighed at alba who rolled her eyes but ignored the question. "i could fresa. vamos, we will do it right now!" your middle sister stood and gestured for you to do the same as you wrenched alexia's hand off you.

"what are you both doing now? she should be in bed alba!"" alexia exhaled deeply, her own bed also calling her name. "bah! in a minute. go get a run up hermanita." alba ordered as you shrugged and jumped down from the couch.

"i do not even know what is happening and i know its a bad idea." alexia sighed rubbing her eyes with a shake of her head. "vale fresa, on my count!" alba encouraged readying herself as alexia watched on with a raised eyebrow.

"tres, dos, uno!" you sprinted on one, jumping as she grabbed you and indeed lifted you easily into the air. "muy bonito. the putellas hermanas everyone!" alexia's voice dripped with sarcasm as she clapped slowly with a roll of her eyes.

but what all three of you failed to miss was alba backing up dangerously close to the coffee table, alexia noticing just a millisecond too late.

"alba watch out for the-" the brunette started to warn before your sister made contact and tripped backwards. you hardly blinked then your body was dropping to the ground and a sickening crunch was heard.

"ay dios mio!" alba sat up and paled seeing your arm as you let out a scream, alexia dropping to her knees without a second thought and scooping you up. "get the car keys now!" she barked at alba who scrambled to her feet and raced off.

"hey hey hey fresa está bien, estás bien. don't cry nena don't cry!" alexia cooed, covering your eyes so you couldn't look down at your arm which was very clearly broken, your sobs muffled into her jumper as she sprinted out to the car, alba sliding into the drivers seat as alexia sat beside her still cradling you tightly in her arms.

"ale shouldn't she sit in the ba-" "drive alba! now!"

"she might have broke it but i'm the one who got in trouble for it!" alexia rolled her eyes with a small smile as you both turned around and headed back the way you came.

"i still was the worst off because it was my arm that was broken!" you reminded with a grunt. "hey you got a cast and jenni drew all over it, closest you got to having tattoos." alexia shrugged and you allowed yourself a small smile.

"and then you yelled at jenni and made her scribble over what she drew." you chuckled as alexia groaned. "because you were not going to school with detailed female anatomy on your arm." alexia sighed.

"it was educational!" "don't quote her! it was very inappropriate for an eight year old."

"that cast was so itchy it was the worst!" you sighed with a shake of your head. "then you threw a tantrum because it was white and not coloured." alexia teased lightly as you rolled your eyes.

"because liliana also broke her arm the week after and she got a red cast, and then everyone said she was faster than me." you frowned at the memory. "sí because red is the fastest colour?" alexia laughed beside you.

"obviously alexia, everybody knows that." you sighed as you both returned to the waiting room and at the tense atmosphere you clamped up again, falling silent and returning to your chair making your sister frown.

"anything?" alexia asked taking her own seat next to alba again. "she is done with tests for the night but still out of it, her breathing is better but her heart beat is still very irregular so they will monitor her closely." alba explained with a sigh, her eyes hovering over to you.

"anything?" her younger sister echoed the question back to alexia in regards to you now. "she had a slight meltdown but she didn't want to talk about it, got a hug out of her though and then we went for a walk and talked about when you broke her arm trying to do that stupid lift." alexia explained.

"and i proved i could do it!" alba defended as alexia gave her a side eye. "alba that is what you take from what i said?" the eldest putellas scoffed as alba shrugged, though before either girl could say anything the nurse from earlier reappeared and waved alexia over.

"you and your sisters should go home. you will not be able to see your mami until she is awake and more stable which will not be before tomorrow at least. she cannot afford anything to stress her out or affect her heart rate further until we have more answers on what caused the cardiac arrest." the nurse explained as alexia frowned but nodded.

"you are her emergency contact sí? we will call you once things change and you can all see your mami. but for now go home and rest, you cannot do anything else for her right now and she is in the best place being well looked after." the nurse encouraged before leaving again.

your eldest sister quickly filling alba in you were so zoned out you hadn't even seen her speak to the nurse, staring off into space as alexia took the seat beside you and bumped her shoulder into yours softly to gain your attention before filling you in.

"okay." you nodded quietly, glancing anxiously over your shoulder toward the doors where you'd last seen eli with a pained expression. "hey, they are right hermana there is nothing else we can do. you will come home with me and stay the night and we can go and see mami once she is awake." alexia's words had you shaking your head.

"its fine just take me home, i will be fine." you declined the offer firmly.

"i wasn't asking. you will stay with olga and i tonight and we can talk more about it tomorrow, its late and i think we all need some sleep. i will sleep better knowing you aren't in that house by yourself." alexia spoke softly but firmly, admittedly surprised when you gave in with a curt nod, making no move to argue.

"and you will call me as soon as you hear anything?" alba stressed as alexia sighed tiredly, unlocking her car for you to get into a little while later. "sí. as soon as i hear anything you will know!" alexia promised, drawing her younger sister into a hug before alba walked off to her own car and alexia slid into the drivers seat.

respecting that it didn't seem you were in any mood to talk alexia didn't try to make you, having already paid for her parking she slipped the ticket in and pulled out of the lot.

you watched the dimply lit streets of barcelona fly past in a blur, music filling the somewhat awkward tension in the car helping it to ease a little and before you knew it alexia was parking in the garage of her complex.

you exited the car and followed her into the elevator, still not a single word shared between either of you as your sister twirled her keys around on her finger and you both stepped out onto her floor.

alexia hadn't even turned the key in the door before it was swinging open, olga stood there with a sympathetic smile as you shuffled inside, wrapping your arms around yourself a little awkwardly as your sister kissed her girlfriend hello and closed the door.

"hermana do you want a shower? something to eat? drink?" alexia tried with a smile as you shook your head. "i'm tired." you hinted heavily, shifting from one foot to another and sending olga a small smile.

"vale, spare rooms all made up." alexia nodded behind you and with a quiet good night mumbled you were gone, door closing after you with a click as alexia seemed to deflate now you were no longer there.

"vamos mi amor, you look exhausted." olga encouraged softly, grabbing her girlfriends hand and alexia made no move to fight as she was pulled to her own bedroom, quickly changing and laying down in bed before filling olga in on everything.

"hey that sounds like some steps forward cariño? even just baby ones." the younger girl smiled softly as alexia hummed, the two finished speaking about eli and now moving onto you.

"and she came to your game, no?" olga continued as alexia shrugged. "because mami made her, and she'd rather talk to mapi than me." a slightly jealous pout curled onto her lips making her girlfriend chuckle and run a hand through her hair.

"she posted about going to the game? thats something." olga tried again as alexia gave her an odd look. "where? i did not see that." your sister frowned as olga grabbed her phone and clicked into instagram.

"see? shows she is not embarrassed to be at your game." olga showed your story as alexia's frown deepened and she was quick to grab her own phone from the nightstand.

"i don't see it?" your sister showed that your profile showed no story, comparing it side by side to olga's screen.

"amor what does this mean?" she pointed to the green trim around the edges of your story on olga's screen. "its on her close friends story." olga explained as alexia's eyes widened.

"she has a close friends story? why?" "a lot of people have them for privacy and stuff hermosa, especially teenagers." "privacy?" "sí, they might post stories that they do not want all their followers to be able to see so they have a close friends story where they can control who see's certain things." "and you....you are on her close friends." "sí, and lo siento mi amor but it looks like you are not."

"qué! i'm not going to show her stories to mami!" alexia scoffed as olga avoided her eyes. "why would she not want me on her close friends? i am a cool older sister!" alexia protested, clearly spiraling at this new information

"what? you want to say something, what?" alexia sat up a little and pressed her girlfriend who sighed. "querida. te quiero, mucho mucho mucho." olga started, grabbing alexia's hands in hers and kissing her knuckles.

"but you are...awkward ale. very very awkward!" olga winced as alexia's mouth formed a small o and she pulled her hands away. "no i am not! i play for barça, i go to fun events, i go to restaurants and bars and i travel and take nice photos. i take lots of photos of you all the time! i'm cool, i am!" alexia spiraled further as olga grabbed her hands again.

"you are thirty alexia, she is seventeen. i am sure its not personal! you are very cool amor, very cool." olga cooed in an attempt to soothe the blonde who scowled, crossing her arms and laying back down in bed.

"you are to your hermanita probably just...a little too old for her close friends story mi vida." "olga!"

~

you jolted upright in bed, body drenched in sweat and chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath, tucking your knees up to your chest and rocking slightly with your eyes closed.

you hadn't had a nightmare in years but the one you'd just awoken from after the day you'd had meant your entire body was rigid and coiled with a cocktail of anxiety and dread.

being in your older sisters house in a bed and room that wasn't yours was not helping in the slightest. as your eyes adjusted to the darkness you kicked off the unfamiliar sheets which felt sticky and foreign against your skin.

managing to slow your breathing down a little you found your throat was dry, stripping off your hoodie and quietly leaving your room. a quick glance down the hall showing alexia's bedroom light was off you made a beeline for the kitchen.

you checked a few different cupboards before finally finding the glasses, doing your best to be quiet as you filled it with water and chugged it down, not hearing the soft footsteps which followed yor own.

"hermana?" you jumped a foot in the air and just caught the now empty glass by your fingertips as you nearly dropped it, grabbing at your chest and bending over a little as alexia stepped more into view.

"don't do that!" you warned in a harsh whisper, filling up the glass again and stepping aside as alexia grabbed her own glass and did the same. "lo siento. why are you up?" your sister asked with a concerned frown as you pointed to the glass in your hand and took a seat at the counter.

"did you have a nightmare? you only used to get up for water in the middle of the night when you had a bad dream." alexia asked softly once a few minutes passed and you hadn't made a move to return to your room.

you stayed silent as alexia leaned on the counter, not wanting to push you but watching the look of internal termoil clear on your face as your hands gripped the glass sat in front of you.

"if mami died i'd be all alone."

your words caught alexia off guard, a horrible sinking gut wrenching heart crushing feeling settling in her stomach as neither of you moved or spoke a word for at least a minute.

then once she seemed to snap out of the trance she'd been sent into she was rounding the counter, the thump of her glass against the counter bringing you back down to earth too and before you could take a breath there were hands either side of your face.

"no, no no no no. fresa you would never ever ever be alone. i would not let that happen no matter what i promise. i love you mi hermana, far too much to ever let you be alone. i would do anything for you!" alexia whispered out, holding your face firmly in your hands and her heart ached more seeing the tears pool in the corner of your eyes.

"then why did you stop trying to show me that? i have felt alone for the last year alexia! i felt like i have only had mami for the last year!" you could barely get your words out without your voice cracking, alexias stomach plummeting.

"because i am stupid and selfish and i saw you having friends and a life and i assumed you didn't need me around as much which was so wrong. i stopped checking in, i stopped making an effort and i hurt you. it is my biggest regret fresa, and not a day will go by where i will not wish i could change what has happened but i can't!" alexia's own eyes bore into yours filled with remorse.

"i know you are grown up now, but you will always be mi baby hermana. the same baby i held when you were born, watched learn how to talk and walk and whose hand i held when i walked you to school, who would steal my clothes or hide my boots so i didn't have to go to training because you would miss me and you couldn't come with me." alexia rambled, too far gone now to stop herself from word vomiting.

"the same baby who copied everything i did and snuck into my bed at night because you didn't like to sleep alone, who i would carry to the car when you fell asleep under the table at christmas dinner, who i tried to force to like football and accidentally knocked your front teeth out when i hit you in the face with the ball." alexia exhaled and finally stopped to take a breath before looking like she was going to continue.

"alexia." you sighed and pulled her hands away from your face.

"i know you and alba are trying, but it is really hard for me to see it as sincere when i tried for so long to tell you how i felt and neither of you listened." you spoke calmly, having swallowed the tears which wanted to burst forward.

"it is late and i am tired and it has been a really long night, i can't talk about this with you right now." you stood to your feet and went to leave, your sister grabbing your wrist gently as you paused.

"nena you would never be alone, vale? never." her lips ghosted your forehead but you were grateful she didn't pull you in for a hug, worried that would be the thing to tip you over the edge still actively swallowing back tears.

nodding at her words she let you go and the both of you returned back to your rooms though sleep didn't grace either you nor your older sister, both laying now wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

and alexia meant every word, she would fix this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

four

[mirohlayo]

Hi, can I request a Reader x F1 grid story where reader breaks her arm/leg and she can't race because of it, but she still attends the races to watch with her team? And then the drivers start to draw on her cast as a feel better soon gesture.

Maybe she also posts it on her social media throughout the day to show fans the progress of the drawings.

Thank you so much xxx

P.S. Love you writing

Hi !! So as you requested I used the F1 grid, but only the drivers who I write for originally (+ Albon). I also wrote reader as a F1 Academy driver to make it more easy to write and more realistic. It's the first time I write something like this, so hope you'll enjoy it girll !! ᥫ᭡

DRAWINGS ON MY BROKEN ARM

( because maybe you just need some love from your handsome friends. )

warning : none just a broken arm, a cast and fluff

note : I really struggled a lot to find some good cast pictures, these ones are a bit awful lmaoo sorry

word count : 1.3k

It was not planned. This was absolutely not what was planned.

As you get out of the car with difficulty, greeting pleasantly the driver who kindly accompanied you to the Suzuka circuit, you try as best you can not to move your arm too much. If you make unnecessary efforts you will tire yourself out for nothing.

You absolutely did not choose to break your arm. It was due to a mistake, a very big mistake indeed. While you were testing your car during free practice, during a session where the falling rain flooded the track with water, your tires did not grip effectively and you found yourself thrown against the wall, in a fairly serious crash. surprising.

The teams immediately helped you, and while everyone was asking you if you were okay after this crash, that's when you realized a big problem: yes, you were okay, but not your arm. . And after a short stay in the hospital, you now find yourself - or rather your arm - stuck in an amazing cast.

You obviously cannot participate in the next F1 Academy races. But you can, however, do something else that is much more energetic and beneficial for you in the state you are in: attend the F1 race which is currently taking place in Japan.

After all, being locked up for almost a week in your apartment was totally boring and you really need a little fresh air, and above all the passion for this sport to stimulate. Being a very close friend of certain drivers, you did not hesitate for a single second to accept your team's proposal when they offered to accompany you to the Suzuka GP.

Now there you are in the paddock, trying to slip through the others to get to the Mercedes garage. There where you find Georges, who smiles with all his teeth at the sight of you.

“Hello you” He walks over to you and starts to wrap his arms around you in order to give you a hug, but a reflex immediately makes him step back. “Oh sorry, I forgot you have a... little problem” He struggles to finish his sentence, grimacing at the sight of your wrapped arm in a cast.

You giggle before patting his shoulder. "Are you better since your crash? I saw that a few days ago and I was really scared for you." His eyes scan you, he is worried about you. You smile softly at him to reassure him. "Don't worry. I may have a broken arm but that won't stop me from supporting you in this race."

“Oh, Y/n!” Lewis' voice calls out to you, and you turn to face him, Charles next to him. They both smile at you, taking care not to touch your arm so as not to hurt you further. "I'm so sorry about your crash. You must definitely be disappointed." Lewis affectionately caresses your shoulder, a show of affection and support.

"At least you're alive, that's the main thing. It's good to see you here, the other guys miss you you know." Charles explains the situation, telling you how worried and scared the pilots were following your accident. You also received several messages from them on instagram, in which they supported you and showered you with kind words.

“Y/NNN!!” Daniel screams your name from afar, a big smile on his face as he almost throws himself at you. “Hey watch out for his arm.” Lewis alerts Daniel so he doesn't hurt you, but he doesn't seem to hear anything and comes to take you in his arms. “Daniel, I’ll go back to the hospital if you continue.” He finally pulls away, carefully observing your cast.

“Maybe I should call the others, they’ll be happy to see you.” Charles volunteers to bring the other drivers back, while you chat with your friends. They are all very respectful and very attentive, they are sincerely empathetic towards you.

In the distance, you finally see the rest of the boys arriving.

“Here’s my girl.” Lando comes to wrap his arm around your shoulders, a smirk present on his lips. You push him away, grimacing to tease him, and he holds his heart as if you had just broken it into a thousand pieces. "I know I shouldn't have sent you that 'get well soon' with a red heart on Instagram, hypocrite." He pretends to roll his eyes but his smile betrays him.

"Indeed, you shouldn't have. Your teammate was the first to message me and that's why he's my favorite boy today." Oscar tssk while crossing his arms, however amused by the situation. Max, Carlos and Alex are discreetly added to the group that has just formed around you.

“Even with a broken arm, you can do a lot of things you know.” Max told you in a confident manner. “Like Lance last year.” Carlos chuckled at Lando, both nodding at the same time because they thought the same thing. You can't help but feel alive again.

It's true that the last few days were difficult. Alone, injured and locked in your apartment, you no longer had much of a taste for life. You kept asking yourself questions about your future, about the rest of the races of the year. You were also worried. But you knew that coming here, being surrounded by your closest friends again, laughing and talking with them, was all you needed. You can only be grateful to them.

“I have an idea guys!” Alex then exclaims, drawing attention to himself. “Since Y/n is injured, and her cast is… white and bland, we should draw to give her courage.” He said while pointing at your cast. The other drivers nod, agreeing with the Williams driver's idea.

“I will have the honor of drawing first!” Then begins George, who is already ready to fight to have his drawing on your cast. "She wants a drawing of her favorite driver which is me. Too bad for you, George." Lando, and his sassy attitude, is ahead of the Mercedes driver. “I bet I draw better than all of you so let me do it.” Carlos steps forward to assert himself.

They seem to be on the verge of fighting over who will have the honor of drawing best, or who will draw first. You laugh while calming the situation. "Look, you're all going to be able to draw. We just need some markers." You remark, as you wave to your team in the distance to help you.

It doesn't take long before they arrive with a small pencil case filled with different colored markers. You then sit on a chair in a corner of the garage, the nine drivers around you. Oscar is the first to draw on your cast, while the others are still fighting over who will go second.

In the end, after a good session of laughter and slightly failed drawings, the result is there. Your plaster is decorated with designs, each one as extravagant as the last, but that doesn't matter, because their intention comes from the heart. This sincere gesture will certainly give you courage for the rest of your adventure, you are sure of it.

And as they all give you one last smile, one last hug, they leave to prepare for the approaching race. You end up joining your team further in the VIP stands, ready for the start of the race. “What a beautiful cast” Your engineer nods at the magnificent designs on your arm, and you smile. “Beautiful may not be the word, but it’s very precious to me for sure.”

And as you share a laugh, the red lights go out, as the din of cars echoes throughout the circuit. For a moment, everything seems wonderful. It's crazy how a simple little attention like drawings can brighten up your day a little more. And can also brighten up the day of others, like those of your fans for example...

yourusername just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and others...

yourusername: maybe no more arm but at least I have my handsome boyys ❤️

view comments

danielricciardo: if anyone wonders who drew the beautiful star, it’s me ✌️😁

⤷ landonorris: you wrote on her arm instead of her cast you dickhead

⤷ danielricciardo: I was feeling different 😜

user: Alex just writing his name makes absolutely sense

user: no cuz they're literally the SWEETEST ahww

⤷ yourusername: only oscar cuz he's the one who drew the best

⤷ danielricciardo: but you said it was me earlier

⤷ yourusername: i lied plus you literally drew on my SKIN instead of my cast 😠

landonorris: my girl not giving any credits to my amazing beautiful drawing 💔

⤷ yourusername: yeah cuz you have no talent, keep it up it's awful mate 🔥🔥

⤷ landonorris: hypocrite I hate you

charles_leclerc: take care of yourself y/n ❤️

georgerussell63: I slayed, my drawing is lit

⤷ yourusername: no 🙄🥱

user: i need friends as precious as them, love their friendship !!

[blue-jisungs]

she was an angel, he did video games

author's note. while i struggle with my reqs here u have a small thingy that was inspired by me going into a rabbit hole of watching old vids of my fav childhood youtubers (rezi to taki crush still like OH MAAAA GAAAD ++ jego stare filmiki = top tier)

also val @kyrjnie tis is for u,, bc it may or may not have also been inspired by the gyu edit u sent me 😁😁😁😁😁😁

warnings. c u r s i n g. so much cursing. also mention of shooting n dying (they’re playing gta lol)

summary. you can’t sleep because of your yelling gamer bf,, that’s literally it (gamer bf!gyu)

word count. 618

“fucking hell! shit, shit, shit–!”

beomgyu let out an inhuman screech, leaning on his chair. the sound of his friend’s laughter echoed in his headphones as he held his stomach that started to hurt from laughter too.

“please, please taehyun!” beomgyu whined, leaning forward and running after his friend’s character in game.

“gyu?”

he yelled when he got shot again, this time by yeonjun.

“you fucker! no, no, no don’t run away!” he didn’t seem to hear your quiet voice.

you never complained about beomgyu’s passion being playing video games. everyone needed their de-brainer that would make them relax and enjoy life. you were glad he got to spend time with his friends and have fun but–

“haaa, eat shit!”

“gyu!”

he squealed upon feeling your hand on his arm.

“oh my f–” he turned around instantly, heart rate picking up. but when his eyes met yours, his brows knitted “y/n?”

ignoring the way he went afk and his friends used that fact to kill him (again), he patted his thigh. taking in the sight of you in his oversized t-shirt, messy hair and two different socks on your feet he couldn’t help but grin that you’re his and–

“could you be a little more quiet?” you asked gently, voice barely above a whisper. his ebony eyes softened, flickering quietly between the screen and you.

“oh”

a small chuckle left your lips and it was quickly followed by a yawn.

“yeah, i couldn’t fall asleep” you mumbled and leaned closer to place a kiss on his forehead.

“no, wait. actually, i’m done playing. they’re assholes either way” he breathed out. a sudden wave of guilt washed over him.

“what? it’s you who sucks!” soobin whined offended “also say hi to y/n”

“no” he grunted and with a devilish smirk used the sniping to point at the friend. then, he turned around at looked at you with a joyful yet mischievous spark in his eye. beomgyu just mouthed: “one sec!”

“y/n’s such an angel, bahi always screams at me” kai mumbled.

“same, my mom just smacks me in the head out of a sudden. i almost shat myself when she did that when i was playing the forest” yeonjun sighed “y/n is the best–”

“what the hell was that?!” soobin yelled out when his screen flickered black and then he saw the text: wasted. beomgyu gunned you down “you fu–!”

beomgyu left the voice chat and game giggling, proud of himself. then, he turned around and smiled upon seeing you wait for him. your eyes were closing slowly, fighting the sleepiness.

“i know, sorry. if i cuddle you, will you forgive me?” your boyfriend pouted, sneaking his arms around your waist. you nodded lazily and felt his lips brush against the corner of your mouth. letting out a small sigh, you tugged his hoodie.

“let’s just go, my stinky little gamer of a boyfriend…” you mumbled, fighting a smirk.

“yah!”

“also i wasn’t mad at you to begin with. just… the bed was cold, or whatever” you said, dragging him to the bedroom. beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat – something that he’d think he’d get used to while dating you. but such cute gestures still made him flustered.

“you’re really an angel, huh?” beomgyu mumbled into your hair once you were in bed. you snuggled closer to him, embracing the warmth.

“huh?” you asked drowsily, sleep creeping up on you way faster than when you were in bed alone, without him.

“sleep well, angel” he just hummed, hands pulling you even closer. fingers drawing shapes on your (his) t-shirt absentmindedly, beomgyu realized that he liked spending time with you way more than on his silly games.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @mirxzii ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @ocean-minho

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: to blanc, you are the change he needed, and your pressing secret won't change that.

WARNINGS: mentions of mortality, blood. Vampire stuff.

COMMENTS: ok ok so @vivislosingitagain here is my thought process YOU like biting people and sucking their blood so YOU are a vampire. and HEY GUESS WHAT vampires are IMMORTAL kind of. and im pretty sure blanc is really fucking old so i think mortality angst would work great with him BUT WHAT IF HIS PARTNER WAS AS OLD AS HE WAS AND BIT HIM. that's the post.

also im so sorry if blanc is out of character i have seen this man three times in the routes ive played + the prologue oops.

It’s a clear night. The stars are bright in the sky, just as they were hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Blanc doesn’t know if they’ll ever change, but he takes comfort in their consistency. They’re stationary, unmoving, unshifting, just like him. He’s always been in Cradle, long enough to see the shattering of bonds between the armies and the first Alice fall. He’s seen the skirmishes and the blood and the carnage.

And he’s seen you, the one who followed him into the rabbit hole and into Cradle.

He remembers thinking you were cute. He remembers Oliver scolding him for speaking his mind, and he remembers you tearing your eyes away from him, a shy smile on your lips. You’ve always been alluring, in a way he never anticipated, and it makes him wonder if someone from the Land of Reason can really be magical like the people of Cradle.

It’s no use though—he knows the passage of time will take you away. He knows love (what he feels for you, there’s no doubt about it) is a powerful force, but it cannot break the way the sun and moon rise and fall, it cannot stop the stars from dying light years away, it cannot stop your inevitable aging.

He knows this, and yet he can’t let go. He greets you in the morning with a soft pat on your head, leaning over your bed as you stretch and yawn. His gaze softens when you rub your eyes and look over at him, and you’re looking at him like he’s the only thing you ever want to see.

He’s so selfish—he wants so badly for you to only look at him.

For someone so keenly aware of how mortal you are, he knows he's being awfully flippant about it. It’s the folly of man, to be so foolish as to yearn, but there’s always the possibility that fate will take pity on his poor soul and listen to its cries for his love to stay.

And so, the next night, a night that should be no different from any other, he breaks his routine. He keeps you up late, chatting over tea as the full moon rises in the sky, asking you if you want to go home. He watches you as you go quiet, your previously bright smile fading into a thoughtful frown. You’re staring into your tea as if it can give you the answer, and Blanc hopes the tea will give you the same answer he would.

I wish you would stay. I wish you would stay with me. I wish you would think I’m worth it. I wish that if I had to be hurt then you would be the one to hurt me because I’ve never loved anyone like you and I doubt I ever will. I wish you would be the one to thrust this dagger into my heart so fate doesn’t have the chance.

“...I want to stay with you.” you say, and Blanc knows you’re hiding something from him but he can’t bring himself to ask when you already look so worried.

“Are you sure?” he asks, reaching across the table to place a hand on yours.

Your head jerks up and you meet his gaze with parted lips—almost like you want to tell him but are far too scared.

“You can tell me anything.” he stresses, squeezing your hand gently.

“I’m not...” you purse your lips, looking away again as you choose your words carefully, “I’m not having doubts about staying here, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Blanc holds back his sigh of relief in favor of another inquisitive glance. Your brow furrows and he knows you feel his stare, your cute canines poking at your lower lip as you gnaw on it pensively.

“I have a secret I don’t think I’m ready to share yet.” you say softly, turning back to him, “I will someday. I just...need time.”

Blanc laughs, a sound that's full of relief and love and sounds like the wind chimes that hang in your no longer temporary bedroom’s window, the ones that have been there since you came and will be there when—if—you leave.

“Darling.” he breathes, staring straight into your eyes with so much love, “I have all the time in the world.”

The full moon sinks beneath the horizon and the sun comes up again. The teacups from the night before have been cleaned and placed back on their shelves, and the cake you two cut slices out of remains in the fridge. There are still traces of you within the house—your skincare is still in the bathroom, your toothbrush is next to his, and your chair still has a cushion of your favorite color. None of those things have been removed because you didn’t leave.

You’re still in your bedroom, sleeping soundly, but this time Blanc is there with you, his arms wrapped around you. His body is tangled with yours, your legs intertwining as the bed sheets knot themselves around your limbs. Your head is resting right over his heart, the part of him that’s pounding away for you. Gently, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and stares down at your sleeping face, the face that shows him all of your thoughts and emotions, the face that belongs to the person who loves him enough to stay.

He wakes you up with a kiss on your forehead, a kiss on the bridge of your nose, a kiss on your left eyelid and a kiss on your right, a kiss on your jaw—

He sighs when you start to stir, propping yourself up on your elbows. The bed sheets fall off your body like water cascading down the side of a cliff, and your bleary eyes have never looked more beautiful. He lays there, admiring you in the morning light as the wind chimes chime, the soft breeze from the cracked open window ruffling through your hair.

You shiver.

“Darling,” Blanc calls, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Good morning.”

You smile when you turn to look at him, and you allow yourself to fall back against the mattress next to him.

“Good morning.” you murmur, your nails tracing the curve of his cheekbone before tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, “You look so handsome.”

Ever the charmer, he’s rarely been charmed himself. And so he does the only thing he deems appropriate, and thanks you with a kiss on the back of your hand.

Weeks pass, and Blanc finds himself growing into this new routine. You're a sign of change, that he knows for sure. His own room remains vacant for the most part unless you decide to pull him into his room instead of your own when you’re ready for bed. It makes no difference to him where you go, only that he can follow you like the lovesick fool he is.

Except you’re not leading him to either of your bedrooms tonight.

You’re leading him outside, under the pale moonlight and into the chilly nighttime breeze. He looks up at the full moon and holds your hand a little tighter.

“Thank you for giving me time.” you say, the wind swelling as it passes between the two of you and further into the night, “I’m ready to tell you what I’ve been hiding from you now. It’s...not fair to keep it from you any longer.”

“I understand,” he smiles softly, cupping your cheek, “Go ahead.”

“I’m a vampire.” you say, and it takes his brain a few moments to catch up, “I’ve...found it hard to get blood in Cradle but since meeting with Kyle’s he’s managed to get me blood when I need it. I don’t like drinking from animals or people but it...has to be done for me to stay alive.”

Blanc’s brain is whirring as you spill your guts to him, your mouth moving faster and faster as you explain how despised vampires are in the Land of Reason, how people view them as monsters and how you’re certain you’re cursed.

Cursed. What a funny word to say to him.

“Is that why your canines are so sharp?” he blurts, leaning closer to your face.

You stop talking, bending backward just a bit at his sudden closeness.

“I—I’m sorry, what?” you ask, looking confused.

“Ah, well....I always thought they were cute.” he smiles kindly, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone.

“I...” you blink owlishly before shaking your head in disbelief, “Blanc, I just told you I’m a vampire.”

“Indeed you did.”

Your mouth falls open as if looking for the right words to say, and yet you come up with nothing.

“You can feed from me if you wish. I don’t want you to suffer any longer.” he offers like its the most natural thing in the world.

Still, you say nothing.

And then he murmurs your name, as soft as the flower petals brushing against your ankles.

“I don’t want to use you like that. I don’t want you to be a food source for me.” you grit your teeth, staring at the ground like you couldn’t be more ashamed, “I don’t want to be the monster the Land of Reason made me out to be.”

“You’re not. I give myself to you willingly, and I'll do it over and over again.” Blanc murmurs, hands slipping away from you.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, leaving his collarbone open to the nighttime breeze and your eyes.

“My love.” he opens his arms for you and his shirt slips off his shoulder, leaving his skin vulnerable—

“I give myself to you.”

And he pulls you into his chest, as he whispers words of love telling you that you can bite him, drink from him, take all that you need and that it will be okay because he’d give you everything if you asked for it, and that you changed his life for the better, you brought springtime’s flowers and winter’s shimmering ice and summer’s warm sunlight and autumn’s delicate, beautiful leaves to a life that was so repetitive and boring until you arrived—a life that belonged to the man you see before you but not anymore because its yours and it will always be yours.

Tears prick your eyes as you kiss his skin, worshiping each freckle and small scar you can reach. Your canines poke insistently at his skin and you ignore the urge for one, two, three, four, five seconds before your mouth opens and you bite down, hoping the small gasp that leaves his lips isn’t one of pain. You’re careful not to take too much but it tastes so good and who knew drinking from the one you loved could make you feel so happy and full.

Blanc looks up at the moon as you feed, happiness and adoration blurring his vision as he thinks about you, you who trusted him enough to bite him, to tell him who you were, you who stayed behind for him even though you could have left.

He stares up at the moon and sighs because he’s in love. He’s in love with you.

And after you’re done, after you pull away and lick the puncture marks to soothe them, after you press a dozen more kisses to his skin, Blanc still loves you. His blood is smeared around your mouth but he pulls you in anyway, kissing you with everything he has because you deserve nothing less than that.

And he loves you.

Over and over again, he loves you.

He doesn’t know how long he’ll be aging or how long you will have by his side, but he knows that if you will forever be his constant, he’ll come out okay in the end.

[fioiswriting]

Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course &lt;3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew. 

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded.  He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt.  It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation.  A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges.  And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled.  Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger. 

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders.  Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it.  He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own. 

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell.  Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost.  King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you.  Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you." 

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor.  You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back.  It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you. 

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead.  It must have been your imagination.  You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest.  Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen. 

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears. 

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets.  And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company. 

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal.  You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead. 

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly. 

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway. 

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him.  You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be.  You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't." 

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs. 

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you.  You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin.  Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall.  Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself -  but you can't help feeling your heart clench.  You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time. 

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him.  A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly.  Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind.  A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy.  Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips. 

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion.   You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you. 

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit.  He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely. 

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion. 

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly. 

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience. 

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps. 

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you. 

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him.  He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence.  You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious. 

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching. 

He doesn't let go of you. 

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him.  It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his. 

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you. 

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him.  You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow. 

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other.  Your hands are buried in his long silver hair.  You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet? 

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress. 

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices. 

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body. 

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry.  You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable. 

You need him. 

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears.  You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him.  It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you. 

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting.  For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness. 

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you.  You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy. 

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth.  You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie.  You know you should lie.  To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years.  You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not." 

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips. 

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye.  It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words.  You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath. 

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe.  It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity.  Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know." 

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him. 

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him.  You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up. 

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know."  Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence.  He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions. 

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

[starb3rrys]

Can I request pt 2 of the stuck in a tight space with Ranpo, Dazai, and chuuya?

Hello! Thank you for the request! I’m pleased to see that so many people liked my “A Tight Fit~” head-canons! I got a lot of requests for a part 2 with different characters so I will respond to this one and just tag the rest (Sorry-). Anyways, I hope you enjoy these head-canons! <3

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A Tight Fit~ ❀Part 2❀

Ft. Ranpo, Dazai, Chuuya, Fukuzawa

✾Part 1✾

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Ranpo

Scenario: Ranpo had deduced that a criminal hideout was located in an old abandoned coal mine. You had accompanied Ranpo on his investigation as his “Bodyguard” of sorts, in case anything went down hill…and sure enough, something did.

**THUD**, the loud sound of your two bodies falling and crashing together filled the dark mine, the ground underneath you had crumbled, causing the two of you to fall into a small, cramped hole.

“Ugh…my head…”, Ranpo said with a pained and annoyed tone.

You opened your eyes but were faced with pitch darkness, “I can’t see anything…”

Ranpo scoffed, “Well of course captain obvious, the force of the fall caused the flashlight to go out, it also caused you to fall on top of me.”, he was clearly annoyed with the current situation.

You tried to move, but stoped as you heard a quiet groan leave Ranpo’s lips.

You were confused, was he hurt?

“Hey Ranpo, Are you alrig-“ “Don’t move.”, he cut you off with a stern tone.

You were stunned, you didn’t understand why his tone suddenly changed, “What? Wh-“, you froze as you felt something under you, something hard was poking you.

You knew exactly what it was.

The realization made you blush profusely, you jumped up in surprise.

Another groan left Ranpo as you landed back on his lap, his hands gripped your hips to keep you still.

“I said don’t move.”, his voice sounded annoyed but you could hear a hint of embarrassment.

You sat still on him, flushed and embarrassed at your current position, how were you going to get out of here? You can’t move, there’s no light, you can’t just stay like this forever…

The flashlight beside you flickered, and the light revealed your current position.

As you looked down, you were faced with Ranpo’s expression; his cheeks were flushed, eyes were open, as his hair was sprawled on the floor messily, an annoyed yet embarrassed frown was plastered on his face.

“Grab on to that rock above you and try to climb out.”, Ranpo spoke with a stern voice, letting go of your hips.

You snapped out of your trance and quickly nodded, you did as he asked and eventually made it out of the hole.

“Now pull me out.”, Ranpo instructed with a quiet tone as he stretched his hand up so you could take a hold of it.

You took his hand and pulled him out, he was surprisingly lightweight…

Once you two stood up and brushed off your clothes, you looked at each other, blush still decorated your cheeks…

“Ranpo I-“, “Let’s postpone this investigation…”, he said quietly as he turned away and started walking, you quickly followed behind as you both made your way out of the cave.

You swear you could see a soft pout on his face as you both walked silently.

You two never spoke of that incident again, often avoiding each others gaze. Although he’ll never admit it, he loved the feeling of you on top of him and would give anything to feel you like that again…

Dazai

Scenario: You and Dazai were a troublemaking duo who often would prank others and cause mischief just for the hell of it. So it was a surprise to no one as you two ran across the agency building, trying to escape a furious Kunikida who didn't seem too pleased with you messing around with his notebook. In a split second decision, Dazai pulled you into a small, dark, and cramped storage room, shutting the door and covering your mouth.

“Mmm?!”, you let out a muffled noise of confusion, as a strong hand covered your mouth.

“Shh...”, Dazai spoke, and you looked up; your eyes meeting Dazais, the silence broke as you two let out a quiet snicker.

As the quiet laughter ceased, you moved Dazai's hand away from your mouth, “Do you think he saw us hiding in here?”, you whispered.

“I doubt it, we are way faster than he is.”, he whispered back.

“He looked so mad!”, you said with a faint giggle.

“I know! I'm pretty sure I saw him foaming at the mouth!”, Dazai muttered with an amused tone.

Quiet footsteps could be heard down the hall...

Dazais hand swiftly returned to your mouth, keeping you quiet.

You scooted closer to Dazai, your chest pressing against his, trying to avoid being close to the door-

“Mnh...’, a low moan left Dazais lips, your eyes widened at the noise.

You slowly looked up at Dazai with confused eyes, his face flushed in embarrassment as your eyes met.

At first, you didn't understand what he was groaning about- that's when you felt it...a soft poke against your crotch.

Your face burned red at the realization, you were quickly snapped out of your thoughts as the footsteps grew closer.

Your breath hitched as the footsteps stopped right in front of the door, a shadow could be seen under the door.

Dazais arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer, making you both groan.

You both slapped each other's hands on one anothers mouth to shut each other up, you both stared at each other, wide eyed and not knowing what to do or say...you were both close...so close...

The door swung open, startling the two of you, quickly letting go of each other, “THERE YOU TWO ARE! I OUGHTA BREAK YOUR NECKS!!”, Kunikida yelled.

No snarky comment left Dazais lips, nor yours as you both quietly walked out of the storage room.

“Uh?”, Kunikida was muddled as he saw the two of you just- walk out; uncharacteristically quiet, avoiding eye contact with each other, as flush decorated your faces.

“Jeez, What happened in there?”, Kunikida asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing.”, you both said with an embarrassed tone as you turned around and went your separate ways.

You both made an unspoken agreement to never mention what happened in that storage room, but you both sure as hell won't forget about it any time soon...

Chuuya

Scenario: It was a busy Monday morning, all of the port mafia employees ran around going on missions, conversing important information and such. Ironically, for a big, rich company- the port mafia’s elevators were pretty standard size, which did not work well with how many employees worked in the building. As you entered the elevator, a flood of employees entered as well, making the elevator pretty cramped…pressing you against a certain mafia executive…

“Oof”, you let out a soft grunt as your body collided with someone else’s.

You quickly turned around, “Agh, sorry…”, you mutter out an apology, your eyes widened as you finally saw who you bumped into.

The man brushed his vest off, “It’s fine, no worries the elevator is pretty cramped.”, Chuuya reassured you.

You quickly fixed your hair and looked down, avoiding eye contact, feeling a bit nervous standing in front of a higher up, especially one of the five port mafia executives…he could easily get you fired if he wanted t-.

Your thoughts were interrupted as another swarm of employees entered the elevator.

Everyone in front of you moved back to make more room, causing you to get pushed back against Chuuya.

Chests pressed tightly against each others as his hands instinctively found their way around your waist.

Chuuya held back a quiet moan, covering his mouth with his hand as his face turned as red as his hair…

You didn’t dare look at him as you felt his hands on you, you know it wasn’t on purpose…the elevator was just too cramped, yeah that’s all-

A soft poke by your crotch made your mind go blank, your eyes trailed down and you could see a small tent in his pants, clear as day.

Your mind ran 1000mph at this point, your heart skipping beats as you internally panicked.

**DING**, the elevator doors opened.

Chuuyas hands left your waist, snapping you out of your trance.

You turned and looked at Chuuya as he quickly walked out of the elevator, his hand tilted his hat down to cover his eyes but failed to cover the deep shade of red on his cheeks.

You were left alone in the elevator as his figure quickly disappeared amongst the crowd…

Though that interaction was short lived, it greatly affected the way you both viewed each other now…who knew you would have such a memorable experience with a port mafia executive?

Fukuzawa

Scenario: You and Fukuzawa were enjoying a nice stroll around Yokohama, the beautiful scenery only added to the peace and comfort you felt as you walked together. A soft meow caught the attention of you two, looking up, you saw a small cat stuck on a tree. You were both instantly struck with the need to help the poor kitten, which explains why you were now seated on Fukuzawas shoulders…

“A little more to the right!”, you instructed Fukuzawa as you tried your best to get closer to the kitten.

“Mm.” Fukuzawa nodded and did as you asked, slightly moving to the right.

“Okay stop! Keep steady…”, you spoke softly as your hands started moving forward towards the cat.

“Here kitty kitty, I won’t hurt you…let’s get you down.”, you said with a reassuring tone as you slowly reached for the cat.

“Be careful, don’t agitate it or make yourself seem like a threat.”, Fukuzawa said with his usual calm tone as he looked up at you; his hands firmly held your thighs, keeping you steady.

“Yeah yeah I know! I’m not going to agitate it, right little kitty-YAOWW!!”, a yelp left your lips as the cat swiped its claws, scratching you with a hiss.

In the midst of the attack, you lost your balance as your body squirmed atop of Fukuzawas shoulders, causing him to lose his footing as you both fell down.

You opened your eyes with a soft groan, “Ow…my head…Fukuzawa, are you okay?-“, you froze.

It seems when you both fell, you landed on his lap…straddling him as he laid on the ground.

His silver hair was sprawled on the grass as his soft blue eyes gazed up at you.

You were oddly mesmerized and couldn’t seem to look away, that’s until you felt something under you…faintly growing.

Within a split second, you got off his lap and stood up straight, your face was flushed as you bowed and apologized.

“I am so so so sorry! I didn’t do it on purpose I swear, I lost my balance and- it was the cats fault!!”, you rambled on apologies and excuses in a state of embarrassment.

Fukuzawa let out a soft chuckle then cleared his throat, “It is quite alright, no need to apologize.”, he said as he stood up, looking up at the cat.

“I do suppose it wants to stay up there, why not let it be?”, Fukuzawa softly smiled and walked the opposite way.

You felt a bit confused and still flushed, but relieved he didn’t seem to make a big deal of that…incident- you quickly caught up to him.

“I heard a new bakery opened up on this side of Yokohama…”, your conversation faded out as you both continued your lovely stroll.

Even though that incident was a bit lewd, you both decided to just forget about it and not let it come between your friendship…although- part of you still wonders if he liked it, considering how excited he got with just a small touch…

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

I had huge writers block in coming up with scenarios since I didn’t want to just reuse the same old ones.

I wanted each scenario to represent the character well and such.

Thanks to some help from my friend, I was able to come up with these!

Anyways! As always, I hope you all enjoyed these head-cannons, love y’all!<3

Tag list: @wintersoldier-barnes @fyodorisbbg

[klovesyall]

Oh my. My brain is full of ideas, but I can't write.

Spencer, but it's his first time showering with his gf? Either she casually invites him to join her, or maybe she's also a member of the BAU and was injured and needs some assistance?

AN: oh absolutely hun. I wasn’t sure if you wanted nsfw or fluff so I went with fluff for a safe option. Also I’m so sorry if this lowkey sucks. This is definitely my first rodeo with writing and I know it’s not perfect but I hope you kinda like it?

OK MORE RECENT AN: im sooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry this took so long. I don’t even have an excuse. And I’m so sorry because this is ASS. But I feel bad not giving you anything so here you go

Warnings: Fluff, swearing? , talk of nakedness and stuff idk

————————————————————

Spencer had been extra protective of you ever since you got hurt. He didn’t want you to lift a single finger, even though you were perfectly capable. He made you food , carried your bags, hell- he even offered to carry you if your crutches got too annoying. All of this to say , he was willing to do anything to make you comfortable.

“Spence, I’m gonna take a shower.” You say with your back turned as you grab some pajamas out of the dresser drawer.

“What?” His voice was filled with concern, as it often was. When you turned around toward him he had the same amount of concern written on his face

“I have to shower Spencer, my hair is so dirty it looks wet.” You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, relying on dry shampoo and braided hair to get you by.

Spencer was thinking for a moment , you could tell by the way his brow furrowed slightly. He finally answers “Let me help you.”

You were slightly taken aback by his response. Spencer wasn’t usually confident enough to initiate or out right suggest anything intimate. And taking a shower together was definitely intimate. Not to say you were opposed to the idea though

“Are You Sure Spence? You do know I shower naked right?” Your tone was some what joking but also kind of not. Regardless you hear the little chuckle you love so much

“Yes I know. I dont want you to fall and get hurt any more than you already are. If you don’t want me to thats fine I just-“

You cut him off

“That would be really helpful, thank you.”

You see Spencer’s worry ease from his face and it’s replaced with a little curve of his lip

You give him a little smile before returning to grabbing your pajamas and walking to the bathroom. Spencer graciously follows you inside, locking the door behind him. When you turn to the counter , Spencer is quick to slip past you, turning on the shower for you.

“Do you take your showers warm or hot.” Spencer asks as if it’s so incredibly normal

“Uh hot I guess? It’s ok I can-“

He stops you when you begin to walk over

“Let me Take Care of you. Please.”

You sigh “you know I can do it myself.”

Spencer takes a step toward you, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders

“I know, but I don’t want to risk anything. You do so much for me and you deserve to be helped as well, especially when your injured. So please let me do this for you.” His voice is soft but you can tell how strongly he feels about this

“Ok, I’ll let you handle it.” I say

He smiles “can I take your clothes off?”

I Nod “You don’t have to ask.” You said that a lot, and it didn’t matter how many times you did. Spencer always asked

He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and you raised your arms. He pulls the shirt off your body and folds it before placing it on the counter. He does the same with your pants. Your standing only in your underwear now

“Do you want me to do the rest?” You ask

He shakes his head “turn around for me.”

You turn so your back is facing him and he unclasps your bra, sliding it down your arms until it hits the floor. He hooks a finger under your underwear on either side of you, pulling them down and helping you step out of them. He smiles when he meets your eyes again

“See something you like pretty boy?” You raise an eye brow in a teasing manner.

“Always.” He replies before walking you over to the shower. Holding his hand, you slowly take a step inside until your under the water. Once inside , Spencer takes a step back and sheds his clothes as well before joining you in the shower.

Spencer had ensured that you had a shower bench installed into the bathroom you shared when you moved in together. He said it was for safety reasons but, you still wondered if it might be for other things.

“Sit.” Spencer says, leading you to the bench.

When you sit down he detaches the shower head and wets your hair. When it’s what he considers wet enough, he lathers shampoo into his hands and begins to massage it into your scalp.

This man has very capable hands, many uses. And washing your hair just got added to the list of them. You close your eyes from a moment letting out a contended sigh

“Feel good sweetheart?” Spencer asks gently

“Mhm, definitely.” You reply, barely opening your eyes.

Spencer rinses out the shampoo and conditions your hair. He helps you wash off and when you finally stand , you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands lace around your waist

“Thank you Spencer, you’re an angel.” You say pressing little kisses to his jaw. You can see the blush creeping on Spencer’s face.

“You’re welcome, I’m always happy to help you.” He says peering down at you.

The two of you exit the shower. Wrapping towels around your selves and getting dressed- well Spencer refuses to let you dress your self so he helps you. He even blow drys your hair for you because he knows you don’t like going to bed with it wet.

————————————————————

You lay in bed on your side facing him as he looks back at you. You reach out and brush a strand of his hair out of his eyes.

“You should stay home tomorrow.” Spencer says breaking the silence.

“Absolutely not. I’m perfectly capable of going into work. Plus Hotch would have my head if I didn’t go.” You say and Spencer sighs

“I don’t like the idea of you out on the field” he says once again with concern

“You’ll be with me. I’ll be fine.”

He sits up “I don’t want you to be fine I want you to be healthy.”

You sit up and scoot close to him “Spencer I’m going to work. If it makes you feel better I’ll stay back with Penelope and help her.”

Spencer relaxes a little “yea. Ok that makes me feel better. But don’t go doing anything stupid. That means no trying to entertain Penelope with” Spencer throws up air quotes “crutch tricks”

You groan and lay back down “whatever you say.”

You can hear Spencer’s little laugh as he turns off the lamp.

[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy (2)

PART 2 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I was wondering doing a bonus part about Fernando POV throughout everything (to show he was ALSO miserable), but I don't know if i have the time and energy for it. Let me know if you guys would be interested in it and I'll do it in headcanons/topics.

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was taking way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

PART 1 | FERNANDO'S HEADCANONS

You were moping and crying in the living room when the phone started ringing. Looking at the little screen that showed the number that was calling, you knew it was Fernando. You had memorized his number at some point in your lifetime. Your parents weren’t home, so you hesitated. You took so long that his call went to voicemail.

“I know you’re there,” he said, voice sounding tired, low and inpatient, “please pick up the-”

You pulled the phone cable, unplugging the call and silencing him. Wiping your tears, you stared at the unplugged phone on the little side table for what felt like hours, until your parents returned from work, when you got up to plug the phone back and pretend like you didn’t spend the whole day mourning a friendship you always thought would last forever.

After two days ignoring all calls, even Flavio’s, you decided that you’d shield yourself from now on, and you wouldn’t give Fernando any more ammo to hurt you. You met with Flavio at the next race, face heavy with makeup to cover up the sleepless nights you had gone through. You put your bag down and stared at Flavio across the table.

“Good morning. Let’s go back to work,” you said, gently pulling the stack of papers from his grasp. He called your name in that tone, of someone wanting a heart to heart.

“We should talk about the f-” He started but you cut him off.

“No, I don’t want to talk about that,” you said.

“I talked to Fernando and he-”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. He’s dead to me.” You repeated slowly, finally looking up at him. Flavio must’ve seen something in your eyes because he let the topic go.

You didn’t see Fernando for two more days, and when the weekend officially started, you avoided him like the plague. Even when you two were in the same place with other drivers, you’d ignore his existence for the most part. Whenever you were in a little circle chatting with other drivers and he arrived, you’d leave immediately. Press conference, you convinced Jenson to switch places with you so you could be as far from Fernando as possible. Even with team debriefs, with Flavio trying to make you talk to Fernando, you refused.

The rest of the season was insane, during team meetings and debriefs you were cold and barely talked to him. He didn’t try to talk to you either, and the silent distance only grew.

You were head to head in a race, you were P2 and Fernando P3 right behind you.

“Switch with Fernando,” your engineer said on the radio.

“He won’t fucking pass me,” you said into the radio, holding your position and pace. He was less than a second behind, and you refused to let him pass.

“I repeat, let him pass,” That was Flavio.

“If he manages to overtake me, he can go.”

He didn’t. You knew you had more pace, but still he insisted, and through the mirrors, you could see him closing in behind you. He tried to overtake but you pushed the car fast, and when he couldn’t anymore, he turned into you, touching his front right tyre to your rear left tyre. You were too fast. The mere touch of his tyre bursted yours. You couldn’t even get angry as you lost control of the car in a millisecond, the speed making your car fly into the air as it hit the gravel. With your car overturning a few times in the air, you watched your sight going ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky.

Then you blacked out.

When you woke up, you were on a stretcher being placed carefully inside the ambulance, you tried to get up, dizzy and someone handed you a bag where you threw up inside.

You had an insane headache as they took you to the medical center. Apparently, everything else was alright as you checked your own body for any injuries or problems. The doctor checked you but still made you through a round of tests and injected saline solution diluted with pain medicine in an IV drip. They also decided you’d stay overnight to make sure nothing was wrong. 

Your dad, who was watching from the garage, was the first to find you in the medical center, visibly worried and crying. He hugged you for a whole minute, before taking a step back and touching your face to make sure you were really alright.

“I’m ok, Papá. Just passed out when the car was spinning in the air,” You smiled softly, wanting to dissipate his worry.

“When you didn’t answer the radio-” He choked back tears.

“It’s ok, I’m ok now.”

“What are you feeling, darling?” He pressed, holding your hands to look for injuries in your arms.

“I’m all in one piece, Papá. Just a little sore, but that’s normal whenever a racing driver crashes,” you let him know, and he nodded.

“Let me just call your mother. She was so worried she wanted to get into the first flight here,” He told you.

“Tell her I’m alright and I love her,” you whispered and he nodded, going outside.

You sighed as you were left alone, trying to find a comfortable position where you didn’t have to move too much, since your whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The door opened and you thought it was Flavio, but you were faced with Fernando, still sweaty and in his overalls. He looked disheveled, but he was full of worry, even his eyes looked a little misty as he stood there a few meters from you.

But you couldn’t look past the anger when the memory of him diving into your car came back. He had gambled with your life, out of pettiness, out of envy, he couldn’t pass you, so he decided the next best thing was to take you out, not even caring about the danger he was putting you through.

“Leave.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Please,” he begged with his voice softer than you had heard for almost a year, “let me just-”

“Leave! You could’ve gotten me killed, Fernando. Get out!” You said, louder. “Do you have any idea that you could have ruined my life in a moment of anger?! That you could have gotten me seriously injured or worse?! I would have never done that to you!” You pressed your index finger to the nurse button repeatedly, and a few seconds later, a nurse came in, “Ma’am can you escort him out please?”

You could see in his eyes that he was hurt by your words, but in that moment, all you felt was blind rage, for what he did the last time you spoke and because he crashed into you on purpose. You didn’t want to hear any excuses now that he realized he put your life in danger just because his ego couldn’t take a hit.

The next day, after you were discharged, you traveled for a meeting with Flavio at Renault’s headquarters. He met you alone in the meeting room, talking to you about the accident, and after making sure you were physically fine, he went off.

“What you did yesterday was reckless and you went against express orders from the team and from me. This is not happening again, or you will be risking your seat at Renault,” He said, his voice never leaving room for debate, you swallowed and nodded, “When the team orders you to do something, you do. No questioning, and no going against it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fernando was really worried about you yes-”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” You cut Flavio off.

“You two are best friends, it’s really sad to see you lose all that because of Formula 1” Flavio said, gently.

“He put my life at risk, Flavio. This is not something a friend would do,” you stood up, walking away but you stopped by the door, “Kinda curious how motorsports, the very thing that brought us together, is the same that tore us apart.”

Then you went to meet the engineers for the next race strategies. 

That night as you laid down at home, you thought that you’d never compete with Fernando solely because he was Flavio’s favorite. If it ever came to Flavio to decide whether you would win or Fernando would win, he’d always pick Fernando. You could’ve been fighting for the championship this year, he had promised you, instead you were being used as a step in Fernando’s path of glory, when you could be fairly racing him for the championship. You’d always come second to him there. That was also the moment you stopped seeing Flavio as a friend, and confined him back to a position of Team Principal.

You reread the Sauber proposal that came to you that year to start racing for them the next season, tempted to just go and make your name somewhere else. Somewhere where you’d be put first.

But deep down, a sense of indebtedness had rooted into your heart ever since the day Fernando told you the truth. You had to pay Flavio back for his trust and for his money, and the only way you thought you could do it was by becoming world champion under his team.

There was still a little kid inside you, a little kid who aspired to prove Fernando wrong, to become a champion and prove to yourself you’re more than him. More than who he wanted you to be, more than a loser.

You turned down the offer from Sauber.

The rest of the season you went almost robotically. You still gave your all every race, but your mood would always damper when you had to follow team orders.

“Ask if me and Fernando can switch, I’m faster!” You said on the radio. You kept driving, Fernando a little less than two seconds in front of you, but you were getting closer and would catch up to him in two laps.

“Negative, protect his position.”

“There’s a McLaren right behind me! They’ll pass us both!”

“Negative, team orders.”

You swallowed and held your position, trying to maintain your P2 and Fernando P1. But when the McLaren got close to you, they managed to pass you after a brief battle, going for Fernando a couple of laps later.

Later, you stood on the podium, looking ahead knowing that P3 could’ve been a P1 if they had let you fight for it. You didn’t look at Fernando on the other side of the podium, you just stood there, eyes watery. You pretended to take part throwing champagne for a few seconds, forcing a smile knowing that it would look bad not to.

The post race interviews were torture, and you wanted to go home and vent to your parents.

“How has it been to manage your friendship with Fernando outside the track?” A reporter asked, and your smile disappeared from your face.

“We were never really friends,” you shrugged, annoyed, you added “Are there any questions about racing instead of my personal life?” The reporter was silent, visibly taken aback by your responses, you had rarely been hostile toward a journalist before, you knew he would have a field day with just those replies, especially when your PR manager gave you a hard stare, “No? Thank you, see you around.”

You finished P2 in the race Fernando became champion for the second time. When you got out of the car, you watched as Flavio and Fernando hugged, jumping from the ground and celebrating. The number one and your team principal. After the podium ceremony, you didn’t bother to stay to spray champagne, just leaving and going straight out.

You got a couple more proposals from other teams, and you were tempted, until Flavio told you Fernando was leaving for McLaren the next year and offered you an extension. You took it under the condition to become the number one driver now that Fernando was out of the picture.

A part of you mourned the death of the dream, the one you had at fourteen to become teammates with your best friend. So many things had happened in between everything, now you would miss it. Only the good, not the bad and ugly. You wish you could go back in time, redo everything, and never allow yourself to lose your best friend on the way.

The next year you ended up striking an unexpected friendship with Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg and eventually the two rookies Lewis and Sebastian, who had been very vocal about being fans of yours.

You didn’t go back to talking with Fernando. You didn’t try and he didn’t either. It felt like the bridges were too far burned to recover.

One day as you walked out of the garage, you saw Fernando with a girl on the opposite side. She was clinging to his side, whispering. You knew he had his fair share of fun with grid girls but he never invited them to watch the race from his garage. You wondered if he was dating again, after a couple of years being nothing more than a player. You also wonder why it made a pang of pain flare through your chest.

You don’t linger too much. He had no reason to tell you. You weren’t even friends anymore.

You moved on, as much as you could. And eventually, you met Kaka, or Ricardo, as you preferred calling him. He was a footballer, a big name in the sport, playing for a big team in Italy. You actually met him at a gala party, the both of you being silly introverts, bumping into each other when trying to find a way out. You two ended up talking for hours on the balcony, watching the city lights.

He reminded you of Nano before Formula 1.

And you actually wanted to smash your own head against the handrail as you thought that.

After exchanging numbers and calling a couple of times, you managed to convince Ricardo to come to a Grand Prix. His presence was calm, funny without being mean, and so gentle. It was actually the calm between the storm your life and job was.

You were pacing around outside the motorhomes to try and see if he had arrived yet, since the last you had talked to him was when he was on his way. While waiting, your eyes found Fernando’s on the opposite side in front of McLaren, he was sitting down with his girlfriend telling him something. You stared at him for a whole minute, and for a brief moment, the anger left his eyes for something softer, something like-

“Hi, minha linda!” Ricardo showed up out of nowhere, and he hugged you so tight he actually swiped you off your feet.

Once the surprise passed, you hugged him back, your fingers finding their way through his hair. And he laughed, spinning you before putting you down. You talked for a bit, your face lit up as he told you about his day.

Your eyes unconsciously turned to Fernando, because you could feel that he had been staring at you for as long as Ricardo was there. His face was back to anger.

“You want me to give you the grand tour?” You offered, just so you could escape the weight of Fernando’s glare.

You took Ricardo by the hand and showed him all around, even introducing him to part of your team. After that race when you placed third, Ricardo invited you to a date, the first official one. After a couple of months and a few kisses, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You only hesitated for a second before smiling and squealing a yes.

Being the main driver of your team allowed you to live an entirely different season as a racer. You didn’t want to be arrogant, but you had it in the bag. You had the best car, the best engines, and just the perfect amount of boldness. Add insane strategies, and you were unstoppable.

Despite Fernando being your close rival on track, he was way too busy beefing with Lewis, his surprisingly great rookie teammate.

During summer break that year, you were on a trip to Brazil with Ricardo, but still, the night of July 29th, you got up at two a.m., slowly went to the fridge, where you got an ice cream pint. With a spoon, you sat on the handrail in the balcony, and watched the waves breaking on the beach a few meters away.

It was weird keeping the ice cream tradition alone, but you supposed it was even weirder not keeping the tradition. Staring at the stars, you wondered if Fernando had any ice cream to celebrate his birthday that day.

“Hi,” you heard Ricardo behind you, his hands sneaking around your middle and he hugged you from behind, laying his head against your shoulder, “everything ok?”

“Yeah, just wanted a little treat,” you mumbled, closing the lid on the ice cream, because a selfish part of you didn’t want to share the tradition with anyone other than Fernando. It was silly and stupid, and still… you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the ice cream back in the freezer and smiled at Ricardo as he pulled you into his arms and carried you back to bed.

You came back from summer break with a renewed sense of focus. Deep down you knew that was your season. Your season to become world champion, and nothing was going to get in the way of that. As you won the first two races after summer, you became first in the standings, this sense of purpose being the one thing motivating you every weekend to give your best.

It was Interlagos that year when you needed only a podium to become World Champion, pretty much the same as Fernando two years before. The race was tough, and it felt like Fernando was out to get you, especially in a moment right in the middle of the race, when you were behind him in P3 and he tried to brake test you again, but this time you were quick to react, avoiding his rear and using his own dirty trick against him, turning sharply to overtake him from outer side, moving past him fast enough to gain some precious couple of seconds.

After that, you managed to smoothly overtake the P1 with a carefully planned pit stop that allowed you to come out first. Later on, you saw a crash, nothing too bad, but you found out it was Fernando and Webber.

“Are they ok?” You asked via radio to your engineer.

“Yes, they are already back on the pitlane.”

You sighed and focused back to your race, keeping your P1 safe, and going smoothly to take the checkered flag.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You’re a Formula One World Champion!”

You felt the tears coming down and dampening your balaclava, as you took one last lap to parc ferme, waving at the crowd that went insane.

It was like a huge weight was lifted from your chest. Because you were now world champion. You were there, and you deserved to be there, among the best. You didn’t need to prove yourself anymore, and you had finally paid Flavio back.

You jumped out of the car straight into your team, jumping with them, and Flavio ran up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Jenson also found you and hugged you firmly, patting your back and Nico also hugged you, both of them were on the podium with you.

As you looked down from the podium, with a watery, emotional smile, you saw your dad crying like a baby and clapping his hands. Unconsciously, your eyes looked for Fernando, silly hoping it mattered something to him, that at least in the name of your former friendship, he would be there, but he was nowhere to be seen, and you felt like that was another nail in the coffin of your friendship.

Deciding to forget it, you drank champagne straight from the bottle, laughing as both Nico and Jenson paired up to drown you in champagne, looking happy for you.

After talking to your mom on the phone, you stood up, taking your bag and going out to look for your dad. You didn’t make it very far, as you came out in the hallway, you found Fernando, leaning against the wall. You paused, looking up to him while your heartbeat went up.

“I’m happy for you,” he whispered. And you wanted to believe it really badly, but thinking about him brake testing you during the race, trying to take you out, made you roll your eyes at him.

“Sure, you are,” you said sarcastically. He shook his head and clicked his tongue, like he was disappointed you didn’t believe him, “my debt is over now.”

“What?” He frowned, confused.

“I just paid Flavio for his investment,” you explained, “I’m not just here because you asked him to support me, I’m a damn great driver. I’m here because I deserve it, not because you took me out of pity.”

Fernando stared at you completely shocked at your words, something painful stabbing at his chest. He never thought you’d think like that over disgusting words he said in a moment of anger. Words that never meant anything to him, that he didn’t even believe in himself. The hurt in your eyes was the same from the day he said the words, when you cried looking into his eyes and telling him he was dead to you.

You walked past him and away. He wanted to shout that he never meant those words, that you were so much more, so much better. But you just left. Fernando followed you outside, trying to catch you and explain himself, maybe fix things between you, making peace.

But as he got outside, he paused, seeing you jumping in your boyfriend’s arms, laughing at something he whispered to you. Fernando swallowed, closing his fist and jealousy burned through his limbs, with such force that it felt like a fever.

Right after the Brazilian Grand Prix, Ferrari got in touch with you, offering a two year contract to become teammates with Kimi Raikkonen and drive for what was one of, if not the most classic team in Formula 1. After negotiations, it was a no brainer. You didn’t owe Renault anything any more. And that’s what propelled you to meet with Flavio that winter break in a cafeteria in Monaco. When you had called, he said he wanted to talk to you about something, which was convenient.

After pleasantries and small talk, you were ready to start, but Flavio cut you off without noticing.

“I have to tell you something,” he started, carefully, “Fernando is coming back to Renault next year.”

You froze for a second, not wanting to think too much about the implications of that. The fact that Flavio was willing to force you and Fernando to be teammates again even after the catastrophic ending you had before. Sighing, you covered your face for a second.

“I know you have reservations, but I’ve talked with Fernando and he’s willing to-”

“I’m going to Ferrari.”

And Flavio understood, after talking for a while. He knew Ferrari was most drivers' ultimate dream, and you weren’t immune to that either. Unfortunately for you, Fernando released the news he was going back to Renault a week before Ferrari announced you, and the media had a field day with that, tabloids and media outlets doing numbers of articles about you avoiding being teammates with Fernando again, since he was coming back and you were conveniently leaving almost at the same time.

Your races with Fernando kept being dangerous, one always trying to one up the other, dangerous moves and overtakes, close calls of crashing into each other, and more and more jabs publicly. The attacks at each other never stopped, and the media seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it ever so often.

One occasion, you were going for a win, and the only thing between you and that damn P1 was Fernando Alonso. So you kept your P2, biding your time as you tried to close the gap, leaving your chance at overtaking for the last few laps. When a fast turn came, you advanced, overtaking him, Fernando tried to defend his position, but you were getting the lead, and both of you were in high speed. Someone had to back out, otherwise you two would crash. But you were feeding off of anger and hurt, and you didn’t back down well into the turn, but suddenly, Fernando slowed down, giving up defending. You took the P1 and after a few laps, the checkered flag. You knew on the podium that Fernando was seething, his face didn’t hide that. Later, at an interview, someone brought up the dirty move.

“So, a very dangerous move at turn 2 during lap 47, no?” The reporter asked, trying to get a reaction out of you.

“I thought it was a pretty common battle, no?” You said, a condescending tone imitating him.

“Well, it could’ve caused you both to crash.”

“I took a risk, either I would pass and win, or we would both crash and DNF. Alonso was wise and went for the safest option.” I gave the reporter a fake smile.

You knew that answer would piss Fernando off, and a part of you knew he deserved it. Sometimes you acted on pure rage and pettiness, feral and way more aggressive against Fernando on track than you really needed to be. But he just pissed you off. Walking around with his model girlfriend, his attacks at your racing abilities, his pretty eyes that always seemed to find yours at the most inconvenient times.

Then, the race weekend would end, and everything that was left was shame. Your burning shame every time your mom’s eyes shone when she asked about Fernando, hoping you two would have made peace. You, looking away from her face every time you told her you knew nothing about Alonso because you didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.

Later that year, after your two year anniversary with Ricardo, you accidentally found a ring box in his suitcase. A proposal ring, a beautiful big diamond ring, probably worth a small fortune. And you tried to feel happy about it, but you could only find dread in your heart. Despite loving Ricardo, you knew you didn’t love him as much as you could. And certainly not as much as she loved you. You didn’t love him as much as you loved-

Closing your eyes, you also closed your heart, and after that just like the coward you were, you broke up with Ricardo the kindest way you could. He was confused, because your relationship was tranquil, without many problems. It broke your heart to break his heart, but you couldn’t lead him on, you knew Ricardo was husband material, and the earlier you let him go, the earlier he would find his true happiness.

Ultimately, you decided to only pursue love after your Formula One career. Having a bit of fun here and there, and a couple of casual relationships even with other drivers, but nothing serious or public. When you found out Fernando was single again, a flicker of hope sparked in your chest, but when you saw him go back to his playboy ways… It died down.

Sometimes you would dream of a different life, of one you never lost your best friend… or even better, one that you never had to suppress the love you felt for him. And sometimes it felt too much, like all this love was just filling up your hollow heart, filling up until it overflowed, until you felt like you were drowning in it, because there was nowhere for this love to go. And you wondered, what do I do with this love, there's no one to give it to, there's no recipient to put it. So you would just ground your teeth and bear it, holding onto anger because that much love, that much longing did nothing but cause you pain.

Every time someone mentioned him outside race weeks, you felt ashamed.

Despite being in a top team like Ferrari, you’d only get a few wins, and some podiums here and there, so it wasn’t like you didn’t achieve anything. But you were a woman so it was obviously not enough, and the media started questioning your career and your place in Formula One.

After two years of you driving for Ferrari, Domenicalli, your team principal, sat you down to let you know Fernando Alonso would be joining the team the next year, and you bit the inside of your cheek, considering just retiring. The criticism was getting to you, and the perspective of living hell with Fernando as your teammate was a broken heart all over again.

When an opportunity arose to drive for Red Bull Racing, with a two year contract, you didn’t think twice before accepting. It would be your chance to turn the tide in your career.

It sent the motorsport world into a frenzy when your new team announced you and a week later Ferrari announced Fernando as their future driver. The same narrative of you running away from him was passed ahead. And of course, it got to the paddock. Most drivers that were close to you actually congratulated you, but of course, nothing was ever good for Fernando. And despite not fully talking to him, he was always willing to throw a mean comment at you any given day.

“And people said you’re washed” Fernando said right after the news broke, the second to last race of that season, his voice dripping with venom. You knew it was a backhanded compliment, he always did that when he wanted to get a rise out of you. He smirked, waiting for your feral clapback, as you always had one on the tip of your tongue.

But when he looked back at you, your face was stony, and you were looking ahead with your chin raised. You didn’t even look at Fernando, nor answered his taunting. You pretended he wasn’t there but he noticed your eyes were misty.

That had been a low blow, even for him. He didn’t know shit about your feelings regarding your career, but he knew exactly how the world had been treating it, and it made you burn with shame that he could add insult to injury this easily. You wondered why he would say something like that if, just like you, it had been years since the last time he was champion of the world. Two years pushing yourself to the maximum so you could achieve your second championship.

Fernando had been your best friend for so long, he knew exactly what buttons to push when he wanted to hurt you.

When someone else arrived, greeting you, you cleared your throat briefly before answering and plastering a smile that never reached your eyes.

“Are you running away from me?” Fernando cornered you later that same day.

“What?” You paused.

“I went back to Renault and you left, now I’m going to Ferrari and you’re leaving,” he shrugged. You scoffed.

“I’m not sure if you know, but my life doesn’t revolve around you, Fernando.”

“Well, that’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

Fernando paused for a second, his eyes searching yours, he looked vulnerable, open like he hadn’t been in so long. He looked every bit your best friend from years before.

“I miss you, I-” He started, then cleared his throat.

“I miss the old you,” You swallowed a whole bunch of your pride just to be able to say those words.

“Things are different now…” Fernando started, his eyes full of hoping, of longing, “We could- maybe we could-”

“Fernando, we’re too far gone, what we said- what we did…” You muttered, feeling a lump in your throat, “how do one come back from that?”

“We could restart. Try again-”

“You lost me forever that day, Fernando.” You muttered, the tears holding on to your eyelashes. You didn’t need to specify the day, he knew, he had seen in your eyes the moment he lost you, “I spent so long hearing your voice in my head, telling me I wasn’t good enough, I shouldn’t be here, and I- I hated you that day. And I had to hold onto this hate, because the alternative was overwhelming sadness.”

There was a numbing silence for a couple of minutes, as you stared down at your own feet, trying to stop all the feelings you spent years carefully locking away from breaking free. So much had happened, you believed you and Fernando were too far to recover now.

“I’m a woman here, the first and only woman in so long, and the whole world was against me. You have no idea how it felt that my best friend, the person I trusted the most, was also against me,” You shook your head, feeling the tears drop.

“I’m sorry, Nena… I’ve never- I’ve never meant any of that.” He muttered, and you didn’t look at him to see if he was being genuine. You had formed walls around your heart to protect yourself from heartbreak, and you now had a hard time believing him.

“There are some things… that are not meant to be.” You didn’t look back at Fernando after you said that, choosing to walk away with this broken heart feeling ever present.

It was hard to keep going everyday. You had always faced backlash for being a woman in Formula 1, and you were used to it. But the media took a turn over the next few years. When you didn’t win more championships, when years passed and you were still there, along with other champions and future champions. They started to call you old, washed, telling you to retire and placing bets on when you’d lose your seat. It was baffling because it had been six years since your championship, but it had been seven years since Fernando’s, but still, you were the only one whose spot was questioned all the time. It was unfair, and whenever they came up to you talking about it, you’d ask them if they’d ask the same to older drivers or other champions. They would leave you alone for a week and then come back stronger, ready to throw your whole career under the bus.

Finally, you got another chance at the championship in 2013, after an unbelievable start of the season with five consecutive wins. That had put you first in the standings for the championship, and from there on, your team molded the season around you. Smooth sailing through the season, you became world champion in Suzuka, way too far ahead in the championship to anyone be able to catch up to you.

When you stood on the podium that night, you cried happy tears. You had once again proved wrong years of demerit from the world. As you looked down to search for your family, your eyes found Fernando right beside them, a proud, emotional look on his face as he kept a hand over his heart, listening to your national anthem.

He nodded at you with a small smile, and a part of you healed a little bit.

You enjoyed a couple of days of pure bliss after becoming world champion. Parties, celebrations and trips, they were all you did for the next few weeks.

When the FIA Prize Giving ceremony came, you had another bombshell to drop at the world. You were the most stunning you ever felt that year when you arrived at the ceremony, in a beautiful dark blue dress with little crystals all over the bodice, a beautiful hairstyle and even more beautiful makeup. Never in your entire career in Formula 1, you had felt so fulfilled, so happy.

Hearing your name being called as the winner, the number one, was different this time, and had much more weight, and it made your heart burst with happiness. As you walked up the stairs to the stage, receiving your trophy, you stopped by the mic.

“Thank you so much. I’d like to thank my family for supporting me from the beginning, my team for making the perfect season, and the perfect car for me to be able to achieve this. I’d like to thank all my teammates that, in one way or another, taught me some valuable lessons as a racer. Thanks to Flavio for taking a chance on my career when probably no one else would.” You said, with a smile. You took a good look around, all the people in this sport who made Formula 1 the most important category of motorsport, all your peers, all the teams. “I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1, as of right now.”

There was a wave of shock and loud gasps in the whole room, flashes and flashes bulbing harder than before, journalists scrambling to take notes… But you kept smiling, hand firm around your trophy as you let the news settle down before speaking again.

“In 2007 I wanted to pay Flavio back for giving me the opportunity to be here today. That debt was paid that same year. After that year I wanted to win for myself, to write my name in the history books, and my dream is now realized. I feel like I should move on and make space for new upcoming talents.” Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, but you smiled, the first genuine smile in a few years.

Fernando felt his heart drop at your words. Things weren’t supposed to go like this, you two should be best friends, drive together, retire together. Go down in history together.

“I’m grateful for everything this sport provided me, the adventures, traveling around the world, the people I met and the people I lost,” there was a calm pause, and Fernando wondered if you were talking about him too, “Now it’s time to go and achieve new dreams. Thank you very much.”

You turned around and walked away under the applause.

Later, after the ceremony was done, you were getting ready to leave when Fernando came to find you. He was dressed in a beautiful suit, looking like a million dollar man.

“Nena…”

It made you pause. It had been a while since he called you like that with that specific tone. 

“What? Came here to gloat?” You couldn’t help but be defensive, worried.

“What?”

“I knew you’d be one of the happiest when I retired.”

“No, I would not-”

“You would, Fernando. You did. Many times you said I was done, that my prime was over, that I should retire…” 

“I never thought you’d easily give up!” He shouted at you, “Like you did in 2006, not competing against me.”

“That’s because they didn’t let me compete! Do you think I couldn’t have competed with you back in ‘06? I could, but every time, they would tell me to back off, to let you pass, to not fight you, to not overtake you-” You threw at his face, because you wouldn’t stand there and let him look down on you like that. You refused to back down now that you were finally free. “Pat threatened my seat if disobeyed team orders.”

“What?! Why did you never tell me that?” Fernando looked shocked. His fighting stance was completely gone now.

“You were going to be World Champion again. I would never take that from you,” You whispered, voice failing.

“Nena…” He said, like he wanted to drop everything. “Please, don’t leave. If Red Bull don’t want you, you can find another spot with another team, we can think of something.”

“Fernando, I’m not leaving because the team doesn't want me. In fact, they offered me a 3 year extension.”

“That’s not how it was supposed to go, remember? We planned that-” His voice was kinder than it had been to you in many years, “We would go down in history together. Win together, retire together.”

“When push comes to shove, only one wins… We learned that the hard way.” I say, with a sad smile, “Life doesn’t always go as planned. And I got everything I could ever want from Formula 1. Now it’s time for new stuff.”

“What new stuff?”

“I want to have a family, Fernando. People don’t stick around long for this lifestyle, you know that-” You shook your head.

With one last look at Fernando, your eyes watered, and you walked away.

Sitting on the porch, you looked up at the sky, thinking of what’s next for you. It had been months since you announced your retirement from Formula 1. The new season had already begun. It was your birthday, a refreshing new one.

You heard steps coming closer and your heartbeat sped up as you saw Fernando walking up to you. He sat down by your side, holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons. He handed one to you and in silence, you started eating ice cream.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

“Was it hard to find me?” You asked, with a tentative smile.

“It only took me my whole life to find you again…” He said, wistfully, his eyes shining under moonlight and you didn’t know if those were unshed tears or not, “my best friend, my nena, my girl…”

“I’ve always been here. Right here.” You said, eyes watering. You weren’t sure you could explain what that here meant, but somehow you knew he would understand.

Fernando took your hand, gently placing it on his chest, right above his heart.

“Right here,” he whispered, pressing his hand above yours, over his beating heart, “you were always here.”

Then, he kissed you. For the first time in more than a decade, for what felt like the first time for both of you. As his other hand pulled you closer, the kiss deepened, like a prayer and a promise. Both of you knew there was a lot of resentment to navigate through, and a lot of feelings you’d both have to unravel and understand. But there was one thing that was always there, through hate, anger and hurt… And it was love, unshaken, steadfast love.

As you broke apart, Fernando pulled you into him, hugging you tight for a few minutes, before pulling away to hold your face with both hands, his eyes looking into yours with so much devotion it melted everything away.

“We will be alright.”

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[bluebeary-jay]

Be still my foolish heart (don't ruin this on me)

Neighbor!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: you and Joel have been neighbors for a while but despite your mutual interest in one another, you never crossed this line. until, after one tense situation, Joel slips up (based on this wonderful request!)

Tags: friends to lovers, love confessions, fluff and angst, Joel is your sexy neighbor you shamelessly drool over, also his toolbelt is an important character in the fic (don't judge me)

Warnings: angst, 'nice guy' alert 🙄, attempted assault (stopped by Joel), some nsfw content but not actual smut (yar girl is gettin there 😌)

Word count: 6.2K

A/N: hiiii my darlings!! sorry for the wait, i know it's been a long time but life was crazy. here's sth i've been workin for a looong time and honestly i stared at it for so long i no longer know if i'm proud of it or not 🙈 anyway, i really hope you guys will like it and as always, happy reading!! 💕

“I really don’t know how to thank you, Joel. This is incredible.”

Joel watched, slightly embarrassed, as you walked around the table with a wide, bright smile. You gripped one of the legs – the one that was previously crookedly attached and broke down when you put something heavier on the counter – and tested its stability. After a successful inspection you looked up at him.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Nah, nothin’ of the sort.” He waved his hand, feeling a big lump in his throat when you directed that pretty smile of yours at him. “M’just glad I could help.”

“You didn’t have to fix this, too, though.” You brushed the edge of the table which Joel sanded so you wouldn’t get a splinter from the rough surface. His eyes followed your fingertips before he coughed.

“Didn’t want you to hurt yourself. This side was practically smashed up, after all…”

“Still, I didn’t even need to ask you.” You shook your head in thoughts before glancing at him with gratitude. “Thanks again.”

“You really gotta stop thankin’ me.” Joel started to gather his things into the toolbox and wiped his palms on his pants (certainly not because they were slick with sweat). “It was a piece of cake.”

“But, you know.” You tilted your head to the left and right, scrunching your nose playfully, and it was so fucking adorable that Joel thought his heart was going to give out. “You already fixed the sink in my kitchen, that hole in the wall, my door, and now my table… Are you sure I’m not leeching off your generosity?”

A half-smile found its place on Joel’s face, and he shook his head with a chuckle. “M’sure. It’s only fair since we’re neighbors, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl.

Joel never knew if he wasn’t crossing the line by calling you that. You never gave any sign of discomfort or disgust when he did, but he also recognized that regardless of your reaction, he should stop. He couldn’t deny that his old heart harbored an embarrassingly big crush on you – after all, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes on – but it wasn’t right to think about you in that way.

If he only knew that every time he let those words of endearment slip, your heart started to do crazy somersaults.

Joel Miller was an extremely handsome man, there was no denying that. And with his deep drawl, the salt-and-pepper hair, the warm, brown eyes and that dangerous smirk he sometimes sent in your direction… it was no wonder you fell for him.

It also didn’t help that he was so kind, always ready and eager to help you with the smallest inconvenience. Sometimes it made you want to smash something in your house yourself, just to have an excuse for him to come over again and for you to be able to watch him work.

But you weren’t that desperate, yet. Yet.

Your daydreaming was rudely interrupted by a series of knocks on your front door. Both your heads snapped in the direction of the sound, but when you recognized the familiar pattern of it, your mood dampened in an instant.

Joel noticed the change in your expression, of course, and immediately stood up, leaving the toolbox on the floor.

“What is it?” he asked with a hint of alert in his gruff voice, but you shook your head.

“It’s nothing. Don’t go yet, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You exited the room before he could ask another question, and Joel furrowed his brows. He stayed rooted in spot, listening to your heavy step as you walked to the door and opened it. And then… he heard a male voice that started to say something to you.

Joel couldn’t help but grind his teeth as he finished gathering his stuff, ready to go back home. It was the second time that some man came to visit you while you had him over, and the bitterness he felt in his mouth was even more noticeable than on the previous occasion.

He knew you were quite popular in Jackson, especially with boys your age. There was always someone offering to buy you a drink or dance whenever you went out with your friends, and once Joel had to even step in when two drunk guys kept pestering you. But as much as it pained him, some of those men who showed genuine interest in you were quite nice. And good-looking.

And a lot younger than him.

He knew very well that he was too old for you. He knew that he shouldn’t fantasize about sharing a life with you, and that thinking of any form of intimacy between you and him was making him a big old creep, but no matter how many times he swore to himself it’ll be the last, he could not stop. You were just so beautiful, so sweet and so nice…

He saw your smiling face when he went to bed late at night, and imagined your body beside him when he woke up early in the morning. He looked at your house on his way to work and wondered if you were eating breakfast already, taking a shower or still sleeping peacefully amidst the many blankets he saw once on your bed. He felt a rush of energy and endorphins every time you knocked on his door, asking him to help you with something, and it only enhanced his already existent protectiveness toward you.

Suddenly, Joel heard a raised male voice from the porch, which instantly got his guard up. He quickly followed the sound, and upon rounding the corner he saw you trying to close the door on Jack, a boy he recognized but never talked to. He saw him a couple of times at the bar, though he wasn’t one of those bothering you and never seemed to give anyone any trouble.

Still, you looked really uncomfortable, so when your and Joel’s eyes met, he nodded reassuringly and took his place in front of you.

“Is somethin’ the matter?” he asked dryly. The sight of him took Jack aback and he opened his mouth, looking lost for a good moment. Joel raised his eyebrows, and the young man cleared his throat.

“Nothing at all. We were just chattin’.” Then Jack looked over Joel’s shoulder at you, completely ignoring the other man. “What the fuck is Miller doing in your house, anyway?”

You stammered, but Joel kept his cool, leaning against the doorframe casually. Jack was tall and well-built, but still smaller than Joel, and he made use of this fact to intimidate the boy to the extreme.

“Mr Miller is helpin’ her with the sink that needs fixin’,” Joel answered instead with a pang of irritation. “And you’re kinda interruptin’.” Jack didn’t move, and Joel clenched his jaw. “Scurry. Now.”

The boy huffed, murmuring something under his breath before he bid you a grudging adieu. Joel shut the door behind him with more force than he intended and took a second to calm his breathing before turning back to you.

“Sorry if that was too harsh–”

“No, don’t apologize.” You sighed tiredly and went to the living room, plopping down on the couch. “It’s okay. Maybe he’ll back off a little.”

Joel bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he should ask the question that was gnawing at him mercilessly.

“Are…” he started, and you lifted your head. “I mean, are you two…”

“No!” you quickly answered, blushing a little to Joel’s surprise. “No, no, nothing of the sort. He asked me out and I told him I’m not interested, but he still tries to…” You waved your arm in the direction when he saw the youngster last. “I don’t know, convince me?”

Joel sat down next to you, clasping his hands together. “Well… if he ever gives you any trouble, you lemme know, alrigh’?”

A small smile spread across your face when you tilted your head to look at him.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Then a playful glint appeared in your eyes, and your smile turned mischievous. “...Mr Miller.”

A breathless laugh escaped Joel, and he dragged his hand over his face, praying that he managed to stifle a groan wanting to escape his chest. He shook his head to regain some clarity, but could still feel all the blood in his body rushing down. It didn’t help that your couch was too small, and your knees were touching – though Joel couldn’t tell if it happened when he sat down or a little bit later.

Fuck.

“Shut up,” he just murmured, not looking at you in fear you’ll see what your words did to him. “I tried to make him leave quicker.”

“And he did. And I think you deserve a reward for your help.”

You stood up and for a second Joel panicked. A reward, you said.

He couldn’t help the images that flooded his brain in that moment – of you on your knees in front of him, or bent over the table he just fixed. His eyes went to your thighs, and his own flexed involuntary when he envisioned how you’d feel underneath him, what sweet sounds he could coax out of you, how soft your skin would be in those places you kept covered…

But then you walked past him, and he snapped out of the naughty daydreams.

“Wh-where are you goin’?” he asked, his voice strained, and you looked over your shoulder with an oblivious smile.

“I made a cake this morning. I’m gonna bring you a piece, yeah?”

You didn’t wait for an answer, and just left the room with pep in your step.

Joel groaned and let his head fall back, covering the redness of his cheeks with his hands.

Idiot.

Almost two weeks have passed since the last time you asked for his help with something, and surprisingly, Joel was okay with that. After that embarrassment he experienced in his own mind, he told himself that it would be prudent to distance himself from you for a little bit. At least until he could act normally around you.

He still thought about you constantly, that he couldn’t help. Every time he saw you in town he instantly felt lighter, but so very often you were accompanied by another man – and no matter if you seemed comfortable with the attention or not, Joel always had this urge to come over and protect you from any unwanted suitors.

He was being ridiculous, he knew that. You didn’t like him the way he liked you, and even if he somehow grew a pair and told you about his feelings, a pretty and young girl like you would never be interested in someone who could be her father’s age.

The thought of you thinking of him as a father figure churned up his guts, making him feel sick. Jesus Christ.

But it still did nothing to weaken his infatuation, and when you finally knocked on his door again, asking if he could fix the rack in your room, he didn’t even hesitate before agreeing.

So here you both were. Joel, looking at the problem at hand, and you, looking at (none-the-wiser) Joel.

“S’nothin’ big,” he finally said after some examination. “I’ll replace the shelf and reaffix it to the wall better. Shouldn’t take long.”

You nodded, but truthfully you were only half-listening. The sight of Joel in your bedroom was far too distracting.

It’s been so long since Joel was a guest in your house – well, only a couple of weeks tops – but you missed seeing him in your private space. Though one could say, he never truly left with how often you thought about him.

So maybe that’s why you were so shameless with your staring.

His broad shoulders were to die for, and you bit your lip absentmindedly as your eyes wandered across his muscular back and forearms, usually hidden under the sleeves. You knew you shouldn’t be ogling your neighbor who was nice enough to lend you a helping hand whenever you needed, but… well, a little admiring wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

And there was a lot to admire.

“You listenin’ to me?”

The brutal wake-up call of his voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you blush wildly and your body hot with embarrassment at being caught staring.

Okay, maybe it would hurt someone.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, feeling your whole neck heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh. I understand.”

Joel’s lips stretched into a lopsided smile, and he turned to face you fully.

“I asked if you have some nails in the house,” he repeated, not breaking eye contact. If you allowed yourself to be delusional, you’d say his voice sounded almost… flirtatious. But that was probably only your head telling you what you wanted to hear.

“Yeah…” you breathed distractedly, but then shook your head quickly. “I mean, no. No, I don’t.”

Joel smirked, stepping closer to you and making you swallow heavily. Your gaze once again dropped to his strong arms, down to his big hands and… fuck. He had his thumbs hooked in his tool belt, already hanging low on his waist, and it made him look so ridiculously hot.

Lord have mercy.

“What got ya so distracted, sweet girl?”

Have fuckin’ mercy.

“Nothing!” you said, a bit louder than you intended, crossing your arms over your chest to do something with this splitting tension in your body. “I was just looking at… the shelf.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot upright. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he didn’t believe you. “The shelf,” he repeated blankly, and you nodded, trying to appear calm despite feeling like you were going to burst into flames if he kept looking at you like that. But then Joel chuckled, and his eyes turned as warm as always. “M’only teasin’. Stop lookin’ so scared.”

“I’m not–” you started, but your lips also spread into a grin when you saw his genuine smile. “God, you’re insufferable. Will you fix it or not?”

“So demandin’,” Joel mused, shaking his head and walking out of the room. “I’m gonna go get the nails from my house. Be right back.”

You whispered under your breath something he didn’t hear, but it made him smile to himself nonetheless.

It was so easy to slip back into this playful banter with you, Joel thought as he made his way back home. Maybe things between you two won’t be as awkward anymore (though he was aware all this awkwardness was his fault), and he could go back to being your friend.

No matter that he wished he could be something more. No, it wasn’t right to think that way. What you two had was enough.

Still, as he looked for those damn nails, he couldn’t get out of his mind the way that adorable blush spread across your face. And how your eyes lingered on his figure when he looked at you. But no, surely he was only imagining things.

…right?

Joel sighed, closing the door behind him and going back toward your house, his thoughts already on the best way to fix that shelf of yours and maybe stabilize it a bit more, because by the look of how it hung on the wall, it was only a matter of time until he’ll have to visit again.

Or maybe he’ll leave it be. Only to have an extra excuse to see you sooner rather than later.

He rolled his eyes at his own musings, but the train of his thoughts abruptly stopped when he saw your front door slightly opened. He slowed down, wondering if you went after him… but no, there was no sign of you anywhere, and he was pretty sure he closed it on his way out.

And then he heard a faint sound of glass shattering.

Joel’s mind went completely blank. In a blink of an eye he stormed into the house, his survival instincts formed over the last twenty years kicking in and screaming for him to find you, to make sure you’re safe and unharmed.

But your bedroom was empty and when Jeol yelled your name, no one answered him. You were within the safe walls of Jackson, and there was no way the infected or raiders could ambush you, but still Joel felt an icy wave of panic washing over him, his mind providing him with terrible scenarios that would explain the open door and your silence.

Then a small thud reverberated from the other room, and Joel’s legs carried him there without a second thought.

He slammed the door open, and his eyes immediately locked on the man holding you against the wall. Your assaulter – that fucking kid, Jack – had one hand covering your mouth, the other forearm pinning your shoulders to the wall. His knee was between your legs and Joel could see you standing on your tippy toes, trying to pull away as far as possible.

Joel’s hands were itching to get rid of the threat that guy was for you, but first his gaze involuntarily shifted to your face – and his heart clenched painfully when he noticed your terrified expression and tears streaming down your cheeks.

The blinding rage in Joel’s veins almost charred him from the inside out and he felt like he was about to explode from the fury seething inside of him. In two long strides he ran towards Jack and all but threw him off of you, stepping to the side to act as a shield between you and him.

“You just signed your death sentence, kid,” he growled and punched the other man in the face when he tried to get up. You screamed behind him, but Joel ignored it, the need to beat the living daylights out of this little shit almost overwhelming his senses.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Jack yelled from the floor, holding a hand in front of his face. “You broke me fucking nose, man!”

It was true, the blood was flowing freely from the already swelling nose, but it didn’t feel like enough. Joel had to utilize every fiber of his willpower to keep himself from venting his wrath on this kid. He knew damn well it wouldn’t end well for either of them – Jackson had hard laws when it came to violence.

“You deserve a lot worse,” Joel gritted his teeth and motioned with his head towards the exit. “Now get out.”

“She wanted it!” Jack shouted, as if he hoped that his explanations would make the situation any better. He wiped the blood flowing from his nose, glaring at you angrily. “Stupid bitch,” he snarled, “can’t make up her mind. Didn’t I do enough for you?! I was nice, always helped you–”

“Get the fuck out of here before I break your jaw,” Joel cut in, clenching his fists and taking a step forward. The young fucker seemed to size him up for a couple of seconds, probably wondering if starting a fight was worth it, but eventually spluttered contemptuously.

“Fine,” he snarled, and then looked below Joel’s arm at you. “I wouldn’t want to catch somethin’ from you, either way, if you’re already fucking this old geezer.”

Your face, and also Joel’s, grew hot – but while yours was red from embarrassment and shame, his was burning from barely concealed rage.

“OUT!!” he shouted, his thundering and powerful voice making both you and Jack flinch. His face was twisted in fury and the other man must’ve realized that staying here longer would only mean worse for him, because he scrambled to his feet and ran out without another word.

The front door slammed shut behind him, and for a few seconds a heavy silence hung in the air.

Joel took a steadying breath, trying to restore his cool, but he felt himself shaking from rage. If he didn’t come back in time… if he was a minute late, he didn’t want to think what that bastard would’ve done to you.

Trying to shut down the intrusive thoughts, Joel turned around and knelt by where you were still seated on the ground. He couldn’t will the tension in his body to lessen, and his muscles and tendons were so taut that he thought they were going to snap. But he forced his hands to unclench before he gently cupped your face.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked quietly, his brows knitted in worry. You shook your head, but your eyes were filled with tears, and it felt like something was ripping Joel’s chest apart.

“He pushed me. And I… the glass.”

You lifted your hand and Joel winced when he saw a shard of green glass – from the flower vase which previously stood on the table – embedded in your palm. A trickle of blood was running down your wrist, but he presumed there would be much more once he took it out.

“It’s alright, sweet girl. I’ll take care of it.” I’ll take care of you. “Let’s go to the kitchen so I can patch you up, ‘kay?”

You nodded, letting him pull you to your feet.

Once you made your way there and you instructed him on where some bandages and disinfectant were, Joel gently grabbed your waist and hoisted you up onto the table, seemingly without any problem at all. You blushed when you felt his touch, for a moment forgetting about the pain piercing your palm, but the gravity of what you just experienced crept up on you again soon enough.

Joel noticed your silence as he carefully removed the shard and bandaged your hand. He didn’t want to imagine what exactly happened when he was gone, but it was obvious it shook you quite strongly. So when he saw tears welling in your eyes, he threw all caution to the wind and wrapped his arms tightly around you.

Not one ounce of regret had time to haze his mind over, because you instantly clung to him, too, letting out a shaky exhale. Joel hugged you tightly, letting go of all the tension and fear in his body. He was never this close to you before, and he allowed himself to indulge in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your arms around him, reminding him that you’re okay, that you’re with him now. He breathed in your scent, hiding his nose in the crown of your head and pressing his lips to your hair, hoping to calm you down.

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here, you’re safe now.”

You tensed, but Joel just held you closer, not realizing he said something wrong. He planted a soft kiss on your hairline, sighing when you started moving your hands up and down his back soothingly. Despite standing up, Joel felt relaxed like never before, like he could fall asleep right here and now.

That is, until you spoke up.

“What did you say?”

…shit.

Joel opened his mouth, then closed it almost immediately. His eyes raced wildly across the room, trying to think of what to say, but he didn’t let go of you. There might’ve been a selfish reason behind his inaction, but mostly he didn’t want you to see his flustered face.

“Nothin’,” he answered after a pregnant and rather uncomfortable pause, and cleared his throat. “You don’t wanna… t’was nothin’ important.”

Maybe you really didn’t hear him. It would have saved him a lot of trouble and embarrassment, and probably another two weeks of his life of avoiding you. But judging by the silence in the room, he wasn’t so lucky.

“Did you…” You swallowed before finishing softly, “call me ‘baby’?”

Joel cringed, closing his eyes tightly, and prayed for some higher power to smite him off the surface of the Earth. But again – luck wasn’t on his side.

The silence prolonged, and you finally grew impatient. You pulled away, looking up to scan his face. “Joel?”

“I’m sorry, it… slipped out,” he mumbled, all red and not meeting your eyes. That was a shame, because if he did find the courage to look at you, he would notice a small smile forming on your face as you regarded him.

“So I heard you correctly?” you asked again, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, yes you did. M’really sorry, I wasn’t thinkin’. I just tried to comfort you and– fuck,” he whispered to himself, lowering his hand but still not looking in your direction. “I, I don’t want ya to feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry, I can go…”

“No.” Your uninjured hand shot out and grabbed his shirt before you could process what you were doing. Joel glanced down at your fist clutching the material, and then back up into your wide eyes. “Please, no. Stay.”

His lips parted slightly at your request and unexplained (at least from his perspective) hope filling your gaze. He looked so adorable that you had never wanted to kiss him more than right now.

“Come closer,” you pleaded, barely louder than a whisper.

Joel obliged, letting your hand guide him. You gently pulled him to you, so that he was almost standing between your legs, and your fingers loosened their hold, now smoothing over the material of his shirt.

You took a deep breath and leaned forward, bracing your weight on his chest. Joel looked puzzled by your behavior, but when he realized what you were doing, he stopped you gently by putting his own hand on your shoulder.

“No,” he whispered, his voice full of pain, but steady. “Don’t do that. You… you’re in a state of shock.”

“I know what I want,” you spoke equally quietly, staring at him with nothing but pure genuineness and need in your eyes. “And I want you, Joel.”

“Please, ba–” he cut himself off before he could finish this word. It pained him deeply to reject you, but he knew that if he let you kiss him, you’d regret it later. And that he wouldn’t be able to survive. “I’m sorry, sweet girl, but it wouldn’t be right. I don’t wanna be takin’ advantage of you.”

Your face fell in confusion and disappointment, but you didn’t let him go even when he put a light pressure on your hand.

“You never..” you gulped, searching his face, “thought about it? About… me, in that way?”

Christ, what was he supposed to say to that? He wouldn’t be able to lie to you, not if you kept looking at him with those innocent and full of desire eyes of yours.

“Don’t ask me.” Joel closed his eyes, the muscle in his cheek pulsing when he felt your touch on the side of his face. “Please, don’t ask me.”

“Because I have,” you continued in a sudden rush of courage. “I think about you constantly, and about us. Every time I invite you over or see you in the town working... And I’m only saying all that, because I thought maybe… maybe you felt it, too. I think you do.” Joel didn’t answer, and you looked up at him with determination you didn’t really feel. “Tell me.”

Joel clenched his jaw, exhaling heavily, but didn’t pull away. He weighed the options in his mind while you waited patiently, and finally, his resolve cracked under your hopeful gaze.

“I think about you,” he began slowly, earnestly, “every night. Every fuckin’ night and day, sweetheart.” His voice was raspy, but that drawl of his so soft and delicious to your ears. “But I shouldn’t. You and I both know that.”

He still hasn’t looked your way. You tried to lean to the side to fit in his field of vision, but Joel turned away even more, attempting to take a step back. You grabbed his shirt again before he could do that, and he didn’t fight you.

“Why not?” you whispered, transfixed on his handsome features.

“‘Cause you deserve better. I’m way too old for you,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like you should know it already. “You have so many admirers who are probably much more fit for you, and it would be… it is so wrong that I’m lettin’ those thoughts linger.”

“I don’t want any of them, though.” Joel finally locked eyes with you, but still seemed conflicted. You slowly let go of his clothes and reached for his hands, then guided them to your cheeks. You saw his throat bob nervously when you placed them there and brushed his knuckles with your thumbs. “Look, it’s hard for me to open up, but… I really like you. Really.”

Joel swallowed heavily, his face contorted in pain – as if your words were wounding not only his soul, but his very flesh. Then the pressure on your cheeks became a little stronger, and he tentatively swiped his thumbs under your eyes in a loving manner. Your heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings as he slowly scanned your face for any sign of hesitancy, then let his eyelids drop and pressed his forehead to yours. You lifted your chin slightly, nudging his nose with the tip of yours.

“Call me that again,” you whispered pleadingly. His wooden, earthly scent was enveloping all your senses, making you feel so very calm and safe. You’d gladly lose yourself in him. “Please.”

Joel instantly knew what you meant. His resolve was wavering and his body giving in, but the doubt was still there in his mind. The fear that he was somehow reading you wrong.

“Don’t beg me, sweet girl.” His breath was on your lips, beckoning you even closer. “M’too weak for that.”

“Please,” you repeated more urgently, and when he didn’t move, you turned your head and pressed your lips to the inside of his wrist tenderly. “Joel.”

He cursed softly. It appeared that the tension between you both was getting to him, too, and Joel was losing the battle he fought with himself. He lowered his lips to the edge of your jaw, his pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy, almost as if he was under a spell. You whimpered when he withdrew one of his hands on your cheeks, but the loss was quickly replaced by relief when he moved it to the small of your back, pulling you closer and flush against his body.

“You sure about this?” he murmured lowly, making you shiver against him. His nose traveled along your jaw and the column of your neck, then back up until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “I don’t want ya to regret it.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “Please, baby.”

Your plea sent a shiver down his spine. Joel couldn’t hold back anymore, didn’t want to. It was clear you wanted him, and he never was a strong enough man to deny you anything.

Your eyes met, and Joel took a second to get his heart under control. You were so beautiful, and your skin so soft under his touch… He tilted your chin up, barely able to comprehend that all of it was really happening, that it was you who put his hands on yourself. And you wanted him to kiss you.

For fuck’s sake, you begged him to.

All the remaining traces of his self-control evaporated in a heartbeat, and he pulled you in, pressing your body closer before bringing his lips to yours, locking them in a soft kiss.

His mouth molded perfectly to yours, causing you to sigh with relief at the gentle caress. You felt heat pooling in your stomach, and you were glad for sitting down because your weak knees would surely buckle under you in different circumstances. The intensity of the kiss gradually grew until it became so heated that you had to grab a fistful of Joel’s hair on the nape of his neck for support.

At one point, Joel pried your lips away, searching your eyes with concern. You worried that he was having second thoughts, but the longer he looked at you, the more his own irises darkened with lust and insatiable hunger, making your face burn like it was on fire. His clear want and the knowledge that you were the cause of it made you feel powerful, but somehow at the same time completely naked under his gaze.

Without any warning, he dived back in, his wide palm enveloping one side of your face while he tangled the other hand in your hair. He tugged on it, probably a little rougher than he intended, eliciting a needy moan from your chest. You instantly felt embarrassed about your response, but when you tried to pull away, Joel practically growled, not letting you turn away.

“S’alright, baby,” he rasped, trailing hot kisses down your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat. “Keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me.”

You felt dizzy. Like he could make you melt from the tone of his voice alone.

Having his lips on yours felt better than you have ever imagined, and so perfect that you never wanted this moment to end. But one thought kept nagging at you, making it harder and harder to focus, and finally after some time Joel softly drew away. He sent you a soft, almost shy smile.

“What is it, sweetheart? Not havin’ second thoughts, I hope?”

It hit you in that moment that it wasn’t the first time he looked at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. You just never noticed before that he always looked at you this way.

“No, no,” you hurried to reassure him. “Just something… Something I wanted to do for a while.”

He raised his eyebrows playfully. “Somethin’ other than kissin’ your handsome neighbor?”

You clicked your tongue at his unexpected cockiness.

“Not exactly.” Your answer only made him more intrigued, and you grinned. “Indulge me and take a step back.”

Joel squinted suspiciously, but eventually humored you. You bit your lip, feeling giddy at finally having a chance to do something you thought about every time this infuriatingly handsome man was in your house.

His eyes followed the tip of your tongue when it ran across your bottom lip… and you took this moment to hook your thumbs on his tool belt and yank him forward.

Your lips connected again, though it was far from perfect – your teeth clashed together and your noses collided, causing you both to yelp in small pain and discomfort, but you didn’t let go of him. Your joy from this silliness lasted only a couple of seconds, though, because before long Joel started to laugh uncontrollably.

You huffed and tried to kiss him again, but he withdrew out of your reach, wrapping his arms around your waist with a big, goofy smile.

“Get back here.”

“What the hell was that, sweetheart?”

His eyes crinkled in amusement and you felt a bit foolish from what you just did. You turned your gaze down, but Joel lifted your chin with his fingertip, and you couldn’t help but smile, too, when you saw how happy he looked.

“It looked more romantic in my head,” you murmured with an awkward chuckle. “I actually wanted to do it the first time I saw you with that belt on.”

“S’that so?” Joel asked and kissed you briefly again, this time with a hint of hunger he was keeping at bay until now. “You like seein’ me in it?”

“I really, really do,” you whispered, hiding your face in his chest. “I don’t know why, but it look so fucking hot on you…”

“My dirty baby,” Joel purred into your hair. The bright grin on his face only grew when he heard you groaning in embarrassment. “Gimme a kiss.”

You didn’t move, not wanting to face him, so Joel opted to nuzzle the sensitive skin of your neck with his nose. “You’re adorable, y’know that? Don’t get all shy on me now, babygirl.”

A deep sigh escaped your chest and the tension in your shoulders lessened. Joel smirked into the crook of your neck, still planting soft kisses on your skin. His lower back was starting to ache from the position, but there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

And then all the discomfort in his body was put in the shade when you moaned quietly, pressing yourself against him more and wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck.

“Do you wanna get back to my room?” you asked after a while, and Joel hummed into your skin, now littered with love bites his lips and teeth left in their wake.

“You want me to fix that shelf of yours?” he teased back, making you snort.

“Just wanna cuddle with you. If that’s okay.” You nuzzled into his neck, and added quietly. “I can still feel his touch on me. And I only wanna feel you.”

Though Joel would be more than okay with that, by the sounds you were making and the look you were giving him, he doubted that’s all you’ll be doing. Still, his back hurt like hell and he almost let out a relieved groan at the thought of laying down.

“If you want me, baby. If you want me, then I’m all yours.”

Not a week has passed, and Joel had to get his toolbox out again – this time to fix your broken bed.

Though now he knew exactly what caused the damage.