#that's THREE whole six stars on his back

[paepipi]

feline therapy for the stressed doctor

[Related post]

[nba24highlights]

Michael Jordan & Scottie Pippen Reunion in Jordan Flight School Camp! 2023 #michaeljordan #scottiepippen #nba24highlights #NBA24Highlights #reunion #jordanflightschool #jordancamp

[stylesharrys]

special brownies [weedrry]

summary: harry and y/n accidentally eat their roommates special brownies.

warnings: mentions and use of weed (edibles), being high, swearing, kissing, biting, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk.

word count: 2,396

a/n: i came up with this idea very randomly and i have written it as fast as i possibly could lmao anyway, the whole thing is about accidentally getting stoned, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read! if it doesn't, enjoy <333

//

It’s been a long week and Y/N is feeling it. Between classes and shifts at the cafe, her feet are sore and her mind is tired. She wants nothing more than to cuddle up on the sofa with a good tv show and pass the fuck out.

And tonight is supposed to be her lucky night. Tom has a night shift and Harry has a hot date. No boys, no roommates, no interruptions.

There’s just something about knowing she’s got the flat to herself all night long, and she can lounge about like the lazy girlie her heart yearns to be.

She starts with a long, relaxing her aching body in the hot soapy water until her skin begins to prune. Y/N takes extra time to moisturise her body and brush her hair. Even treats herself to a face mask while she does so.

When she leaves the bathroom, it’s almost 7 p.m. and Tom has already left for work. The apartment is clean, and most importantly, quiet.

She’s a bit too excited in her movement to the sofa, a squeal slipping from her lips. Too caught up in her head, she doesn’t notice Harry leaning against his bedroom door, arms folded across his chest.

It’s not until he clears his throat that Y/N jumps out of her little happy dance with a scream. A smirk sits on his lips, amused by the way she scowls at him.

“What the hell are you doing here! You’re supposed to be out on a date!”

Her tone is accusing, pointer finger jabbing at the air in his direction. She notices his attire; grey shorts and a white hoodie. Y/N’s shoulders slump.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she huffs.

“What? I thought you liked hanging out with me?” Harry follows her to the sofa, sitting on  the opposite end of her.

Y/N crosses her arms furiously. “I do! But I was so excited to have the flat to myself for just one night.”

Harry’s brows are raised suggestively, that sick fucking smirk on his lips again. Y/N lunges a pillow at his face. “Not for those reasons, you perv.”

He barks out a laugh, hugging the pillow close to his chest as he props his feet up and on Y/N’s lap. He watches how her bottom lip pouts out and his face softens.

“Look, if you want me to fuck off out for the evening, I can.” Harry offers.

She scoffs. “That is what you were supposed to be doing.” A moment of silence passes and she sighs. “Sorry, that came out rude. I'm not about to kick you out of your own flat – though I am going to force you to watch the last three episodes of The Rookie with me.”

Harry makes no attempt to hide the groan that follows her words. It’s not that he doesn’t like the show, it’s that he hates the show. He’ll never understand Y/N’s weird obsession with emergency services.

First, it was Criminal Minds, then a month later she binge watched 9-1-1 Lone Star in six days. Now she’s on the newest season of The Rookie and he’s sure she only started season one at the beginning of the month?

“Do we have to?” he grumbles.

Y/N throws another pillow at him. “Yes. You’re the one interrupting my night, you could at least do it quietly… and with snacks.”

Her voice trails off at the end of her sentence and Harry has to bite back a grin. She could never be mad at Harry, she loves him and his company far too much. Tom, on the other hand… yeah, she would definitely be mad if it was him crashing her lazy girl night.

Harry stands from the sofa, wandering through to the kitchen. He grabs two bottles of water in one hand and scans his eyes through the cupboards in search for a suitable snack.

They’ve not been shopping for a few days, so there’s only some dry crackers, a half-eaten bag of cashew nuts (ew, Tom), and granola. Harry contemplates ubering some cookies and milkshakes when his eyes land on a bakery box on top of the microwave.

He squints as he reads the writing on the top of the box.

Tom’s. DO NOT EAT!

Harry flips the lid, six thick slices of dewey chocolate brownies. They’re like fucking slabs… he’s sure Tom won’t mind if he and Y/N share just one between them.

He pops a (massive) slice on a plate and toddles back to the kitchen. The show is paused on the opening scene, Y/N shuffled to get comfortable on the sofa. She raises a brow at the snack in question.

“We’re sharing a brownie?”

Harry huffs as he sits. “S’all we’ve got in the kitchen, and they’re Tom’s. Didn’t wanna take the piss when his little sticky note clearly says DO NOT TOUCH!”

Y/N snorts, breaking the brownie in half and handing Harry the bigger slice. She takes a bite, face screwing slightly.

“These taste a little funny… nutmeg, maybe?”

She turns to Harry who doesn’t say anything and still hasn’t taken the brownie. The look on his face irks her. She huffs, swallowing. “I feel bad that your date cancelled on you.”

His eyebrows almost raise to his hairline. “And what makes you think she was the one to cancel?”

“Was she?” Y/N asks.

Harry takes the brownie with a sigh. “Yeah.”

//

They can’t stop fucking giggling.

The show is long forgotten about, has been for the past thirty minutes. They’re both feeling warm. Harry stripped from his jumper and Y/N changed into some little shorts and one of Harry’s baggy t-shirts.

Neither of them know where this amusement came from, but there is absolutely no calming either of them down. They’re sneakily sharing a second slice of Tom’s brownies; eyes on the door in case for some reason, he comes home an hour after his shift has started.

“They taste so weird, but I can’t stop eating it.”

Harry chokes out a laugh, eyes welling with tears because he just finds Y/N so fucking funny tonight.

She’s a mess too, eyes squinted and shoulders hunched as she laughs uncontrollably. They’re both crossed-legged on the living room floor, knees knocking gently.

The more she chews, the more she begins to recognise that unfamiliar taste… the way it lingers on her tongue. Her laughter slows for a moment, as if realisation is beginning to dawn on her.

She stares at Harry with wide eyes and parted lips, mouth still full.

“Oh, my god.”

“What?”

“They’re fucking weed brownies!”

Harry can’t breathe, struggles to look away from the fear and shock on Y/N’s face. His whole body begins to shake with laughter and Y/N finds herself following.

“Harry, it’s not funny!” she shrieks. “This is so bad, Harry.”

She’s laughing through her words. Even she can’t take herself seriously in this state.

“D’you wanna play Just Dance?”

Harry’s words only make her laugh harder. The remainder of her brownie is thrown at his naked torso. Harry wastes no time to tackle her to the ground, hovering between her legs as he tickles her sides.

He's blowing raspberries on her neck, eliciting loud cackles from her mouth. Y/N tugs at his hair, her legs flailing around his hips when he nips at the skin on her throat.

They don’t say anything. She continues to chuckle, and Harry continues to bite.

Their laughter has fizzled out into breathy giggles. Neither of them are sure when Harry’s bites turned into kisses. When their fingers became intertwined. When her legs closed around his middle.

And neither of them say a fucking thing about it.

Harry’s lips travel up her neck and across her jaw. She finds his mouth feverishly, nothing but tongue and teeth but to the pair of them, it’s the best kiss they’ve ever had.

They’re needy, hot and wanton all of a sudden. Like a switch has been flipped and they’re clinging to one another like lifelines.

Harry holds her hands above her head, fingers tangled. He’s hard, rock hard. Pressing into Y/N’s tiny fucking shorts so much he’s sure he can feel her arousal through both of their clothes.

He ruts against her, testing the waters. The moan he receives sends all blood down south. He’s always known sex to be incredible when you’re high. The thought of him sharing it with her? God, he could bust there and then.

He releases her hands so he can feel up her thighs, skin hot and smooth. Their lips don’t separate, not once. She lets her hands fall into his curls, nails scratching at his scalp and she tugs at the roots.

Harry’s moaning into her mouth, eager and desperate for more. He takes her shorts off quickly and strategically. So quickly that she doesn’t notice until she feels a cool breeze between her thighs.

Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head, more than ready for whatever the fuck he wants to do to her.

They haven’t hesitated, not once. Not until Harry's hands are at the waistband of his shorts and he wonders if he should grab a condom or just go down on her. He knows she’s on the pill, just like they both know they’re both clean.

Harry gets tested once a month and Y/N doesn’t sleep around.

She answers his inner turmoil for him and tugs his shorts down the best she can. Harry breaks the kiss for a split second to tug his shorts to his knees. He’s back to kissing her as quickly as he pulled away, tongue against hers. Hot and messy.

Y/N feels his tip twitch against her clit, an airy sigh echoing into Harry’s mouth. He lets his fingers swirl around her wetness, smearing it across her smooth cunt and coating his thick shaft in her arousal.

They’re panting messes, eager, desperate and horny.

When he lines himself at her entrance, she locks her legs around his waist. Harry bumps forward, a shrill cry slipping from between their lips at the sensation of one another.

Harry wants to give her a moment to adjust, but Y/N doesn’t. She wants it hot and hard. She wants the pain. She wants to feel every fucking inch of him.

She probably should’ve warned Harry how she gets when she’s high. How much of a whiny, cock-hungry whore she can become. Then again, how was she supposed to know they’d accidentally eat their roommates special brownies?

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Harry chokes as he bottoms out.

Y/N’s struggling to catch her breath but she’s never loved the burn in her lungs more. “Fuck me, H.”

He twitches inside her. “Fuck me hard.”

His hips begin to roll, cock nuzzling itself deep inside her. He can feel everything. Every bump, dip, swell. God, she’s fucking soaked, leaking down to the floor but neither of them care.

Harry slowly begins to quicken his pace, arms bent at the elbows either side of Y/N’s head to prop himself up. She doesn’t loosen her legs around his hips. She needs him as close as he can possibly get.

Even his cock buried to the brim in her cunt isn’t enough. She needs his soul touching hers.

“You’re so fucking tight.”

“Yeah?” she breathes. “You gonna fuck my tight cunt, baby? Fuck me like you own me.”

He can’t believe his fucking ears. He’s always found Y/N attractive, but never in his wildest fucking dreams did he expect her to be this goddamn filthy.

Harry loves it.

His thrusts grow harsher. She has no time to catch her breath between hits, her mouth in a constant state of slack – eyes rolled back and eyebrows pinched.

“My perfect little cunt.” Harry seethes.

The noises of her pussy are like electric waves in Harry’s ears. He feels them in his soul, like sparks and jolts. He’s never felt more alive.

He’s fucking into her manically. Behind closed eyes all he can see shapes and colours of need and desire. Sex has always been good, always been great high. But this? Fuck, he’s never felt something so otherwordly.

He never wants it to end, wants to spend the rest of his life fucking her like a whore. She’s tugging his hair, likely making his scalp bleed but he loves it. He’d bleed a fucking river just to feel her cunt around him again.

“I’m gonna come!”

Her words awaken something animalistic within Harry. Like his life depends on feeling her release around him – like it’s what he was born to experience.

He chases her high, nipping and suckling on her neck, fucking into her cunt as fast as his restrained hips will allow. Y/N’s a blubbering mess, a sight Harry never wants to forget.

Fuck, he doesn’t think he could if he tried. This will forever be etched into his mind – her face, her body, her perfect cunt. Jesus, he’s never been so into sex in his life.

Her body begins to tremble uncontrollably, legs locked tight around his middle as she cries his name and pours over him.

Harry’s gruff and desperate moans mix with hers. She’s impossibly tighter, squeezing him; begging him to never let her feel anything but full ever again.

Harry wants to die buried in her cunt.

It takes every single fucking ounce of willpower he has to pull out and release across her thighs – painting the filthiest picture anyone could imagine.

It’s a struggle for either of them to catch their breaths. Hot and heavy panting that soon turns into light laughter, that even sooner, turns into contagious giggles.

Their bodies shake with every chuckle, Harry’s mouth ghosting hers until he nips on her bottom lip.

“We are never to talk about this, understood?”

He grins widely. “Whatever you want, Princess.”

She hums, eyes full of lust. Harry’s still achingly hard, despite coming more than he ever has before. He dips his head to her neck, sucking at her soft skin. His cock twitches against her thigh and she breathes deeply, blinks slowly.

“You wanna go again?” his voice is muffled by her neck.

She grins, legs wrapping back around his middle.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

[snooyaki]

이찬연 — BARISTA BOY ☂︎ CH. I

a/n: my first ever written work on tmblr wooo 🥳 if this receives good feedback i’ll be willing to turn this into a series! hope you enjoy 💗

‘DONT CRY … DONT CRY.’ anton repeated to himself, feeling the lump forming in his throat as his eyes couldn’t help but begin to grow glossy. having a full mental breakdown in the middle of brewing up a coffee for a costumer was not an option for the boy. anton sniffled, a shaky exhale releasing from his trembling lips as he finished off his cappuccino with his signature leaf art. what a sad looking leaf it was. anton took a deep exhale, placing the coffee cup down as he pushed it forwards against the counter. ‘speak… you can do it..’

“o-order for minyoung?” anton’s delicate voice cracked.

the boy mentally cussed at himself, watching in fear as the scary woman he had encountered earlier stomped her way up to the counter, anton flinching with every clack of her heels. the woman’s sharp wrinkly eyes glared daggers at the anxious boy who couldn’t help but gulp at the sight.

“finally got my order right??” the woman’s icy tone spat, as anton quickly nodded his head. “y-yes maam… i apologize again for the inconvenience…” anton managed to speak despite his heart rate going off the charts.

anton was having a shitty day.

the boy had woken up that morning and not a thing was going his way. he had slept through his alarm and missed his bus on the way to work, resulting in being scolded by his manager. he had burned himself on one of the steamers, causing a mug to fall and shatter. not to mention the rude customers. anton did not know what was going on today, as it seemed that everyone was not having a good day. especially him.

anton was an emotional boy, one who got overwhelmed easily. today was taking a toll on him. it was mentally and physically draining to contain his tears and his thoughts. he just needed to make it through the day, he kept telling himself.

“excuse me,”

anton paused, eyes widening slightly in realization. he had been staring down at the cash register lost in his thoughts as a customer was patiently waiting for him to come back to his senses. god he was embarrassed. could this day get any worse? the boy lifted his head, ready to apologize to the customer before his words got stuck in his throat at the sight before him.

“… hi,” y/n smiled warmly, gazing up at anton with kind yet curious eyes. “you’re anton lee … right?” her soft voice rang out, a bright and comforting aura radiating off the girl.

anton stared at the girl in disbelief, the tips of his ears slowly beginning to turn a deep shade of red. out of all days his crush could have shown up at his work, it just had to be today? anton shook his head as he snapped back to his senses, a soft chuckle and forced smile came from the boy.

“yeah … yeah that’s me.” he spoke, rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly, before meeting her gaze. “you’re y/n l/n … right?”

of course, anton knew who she was. everyone in their school knew who she was. y/n was a star student, known for her good grades, kind soul, and her beauty. it wasn’t a surprise that anton began crushing on y/n in the beginning of tenth grade after being in three out of the six classes a day for a whole year. it had all started the first day of school, when y/n had spoken to him for the first and the last time.

ೀ

“excuse me!” a hurried voice spoke, catching anton’s attention as the boy curiously turned around, his gaze instantly shooting down. there she was, in all her glory.

y/n gazed up at the boy with a kind smile, holding out a familiar navy-blue notebook in front of the boy. “here, your notebook. you left it in the classroom.” she hummed, as anton’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“oh …” anton muttered, slowly taking the notebook from the girl, a small smile lifting on his lips.

anton could feel his heart beating out of his chest as he stared at her pretty smile. “thanks …” he had managed to speak, before the girl had nodded her head.

“of course,” y/n smiled, before retreating to her friends. anton watched as she walked down the hallway, laughing and giggling with her friends. he watched her until she had disappeared in the large crowd of students.

“anton…?” sohee spoke, not snapping the boy out of his daydreams.

“anton… why are you so red?!”

  ೀ

although of course, anton had no intentions on pursuing her. y/n was way out of his league, or that’s what he believed. he was a silent admirer and planned on keeping it that way.

well, until today.

the girl nodded her head enthusiastically at anton’s question, delighted that he had remembered her name. “mhm! i didn’t know you worked here… this is quite a famous coffee shop.” y/n chuckled softly in attempts to make small conversation with the quiet boy.

anton felt his heart skip a few beats at the sound of her melodic giggle, nibbling his lip anxiously before nodding his head. “ive been working here for a few months now…” anton spoke, his eyes not being able to trail away from the girl’s face as she scanned the menu. anton couldn’t get his eyes off her. it was like he was stuck in a trance, analyzing every feature on her face. her beauty marks, her hair, the way her eyes sparkled excitedly while deciding what she was going to drink.

“make me your favourite order here. i want to try something new.” y/n eagerly spoke, taking anton for surprise. he had never had a customer ask for that before, but he was willing to do it. especially for her.

anton finally gathered the courage to show a little smile, nodding his head in approval at her request. “sure. i’ll make you something good.” anton stated, earning an excited smile from the other.

anton didn’t know what was with him in that moment. he felt a surge of confidence rise. ‘its now or never …’.

“it’s on me,” anton added, his eyes gazing down at his crush, watching as her expression quickly falter. anton rang it through the register before she was able to protest, chuckling at the sight of her shoulders falling in defeat.

“you didn’t have to do that anton…” y/n frowned, almost as if she was glaring at him in disappointment. anton looked down at the floor, a soft blush rising over his cheeks mentally preparing himself to meet her eyes again.

“but… i wanted to.” anton managed to say, his eyes searching for a reaction from the girl.

anton swore he saw her blush. he swore by it, but the self-doubt was convincing him otherwise. he couldn’t tell if he was imagining things. “it’ll be ready at the end of the counter.” anton then added, snapping y/n out of her thoughts.

the girl then showed off her signature smile, letting out a breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding in. “thank you anton.” she hummed.

anton’s day was suddenly, not so shitty anymore. he couldn’t help but smile as he made her order the whole time, silently giggling to himself as he thought. he talked to you. he had finally talked to you again. something he had been meaning to do for two years. it finally happened.

anton gazed down at the cup, focusing hard on the heart he hadn’t even realized he made on your latte, resulting in a soft blush when he came to his senses. anton grabbed a lid, placing it over the cup as he let out a soft exhale in preparation before making his way towards the end of the counter.

“order for y/n!” he called out, catching her attention.

y/n gazed up from her phone, shutting it off as she stuffed it into her jacket pocket. the girl then made her way over to anton, grabbing the cup from the shy boy. she examined the way he had written her name. ‘y/n ᵕ̈ ‘ it read in his hand writing. she felt like she could stare at it for days, as a smile began slowly spreading over her face. y/n gazed up at the boy, letting out a soft chuckle. “thank you again anton.” she beamed, as anton gazed down at his feet, flustered.

“of course, y/n.”

the two shared a soft gaze, both in a comfortable silence unable to rip their gazes away, until you had spoken up. “i’ll see you at school…” y/n spoke, not breaking eye contact with anton once before slightly hesitating her next words. “dont be a stranger.” she stated, watching as anton shook his head at the girl. “i wont.” he stated back.

anton watched as the girl then began making her way out of the coffee shop. it saddened him a bit, to see her leave, her figure slipping past the door. but after his encounter with you, he couldn’t have been happier. anton stood there, smiling like an idiot. there were hearts practically surrounding the boy in love.

maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.

— nari ¨̮

#ˋ ୨୧ ˊTAGS !

[babyleostuff]

౨ৎ voicemails lee seokmin leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: sweetheart, baby)

...one: hi sweetheart, i hope you're sleeping well! i'm just calling to tell you we landed safely, and don't worry when you see the videos from the airport in the morning, we're fine. i miss you already

...two: did you seep well? i couldn't fall asleep last night, i was tossing and turning for so many hours. i just think i'm not used to sleeping without you

...three: mingyu just showed me the pictures from your trip with his girl, and am i blind or were you wearing my shirt, and hat? you look adorable in my clothes baby, why don't you wear them more often? (pause) though, who am i kidding, you steal my hoodies all of the time

...four: are you still planning on going to the movies tomorrow? if you are, have lots of fun, but please, remember to stay safe. i’ll send you some pictures i took today after the rehearsal

...five: i still have such a bad time falling asleep. i even tried cuddling a pillow, but it didn't help

...six: i have to bring you here some day. we went on a walk with seungkwan and hoshi earlier, and this whole place is so amazing! and the food is so yummy too, i know you’d love it. i seriously mean it, i’ll bring you here on our honeymoon or something

...seven: i know you’re probably sleeping, but i really miss your voice. do you think we could face time tomorrow?

...eight: the way i’ll kill seungkwan if he doesn’t shut up soon. i think seungcheol and woozi are at their limits too. i still love him, though

...nine: i had so much fun at the concert last night, but to be honest, i can’t wait to be back home

...ten: if you get some weird messages tonight, ignore them, please. we’re going out to drink with the boys, so you can expect the unexpected, baby. love you

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @treehouse-mouse @waldau

[courtingchaos]

It’s Just a Question

A/N: Back on my bullshit. I’ve had some really hard times with my normal writing while also finding myself in some shitty circumstances. So this is how this came about. Just a lot of feelings. Technically plus sized reader but you can do whatever you want.

18+ NSFW No Minors

“Am I pretty?”

“What?” Eddie sprays toothpaste on the mirror, he’s so quick to ask.

“Am I pretty?” You scrunch your face up over and over, drawing your eyebrows down and crinkling your eyes. Purse your lips and frown deep and finally look over at him staring at you, toothbrush hanging from his mouth and arms braced on the countertop.

“Are you pretty?” He reiterates with a deep sigh. “Of course you are, you’re gorgeous. Especially right now when your hair matches mine and we look like two electrocuted cotton balls.” He’s not flippant but he’s definitely brushing you off.

You aren’t done though. “I’m serious, and I’m not asking if you think I’m pretty. Am I pretty like…Anne Hathaway.” You pull down on your cheek and watch it bounce back, albeit slower than it did when you were 20.

“Well…you don’t even look-no.” He stops quickly and spits in the sink and rinses his toothbrush, viciously shaking his head the whole time. “This is a trap and I refuse.” He says as he leaves you in the bathroom.

“Eddie it’s not a trap it’s an honest question!”

“This is like the worm thing and I’m not doing that again!” He yells over his shoulder before closing himself in the bedroom to get dressed for work. You sigh and turn to look at your tired reflection. Your perpetual eyebags answer your question for you, and your dusting of sun damage yells it louder from the mirror.

Not pretty, subliminally average.

Standing in line at the grocery store, Eddie slumped over the handle and picking at stray grapes, you ask again only this time with a visual aid.

“Okay, I mean like this.” You shove a copy of Rolling Stone under his nose, a new pop star gracing their cover in something sheer and tight. “I meant pretty like this.” You say quietly next to him. He chews on another free grape slowly, staring at the cover and tilting his head. He doesn’t move, just slides his eyes way over to give you the look.

“You’re prettier than her.”

“What about Juno Temple?” You quip back.

“She’s shorter than you. And British, doesn’t count.” He quips right back. You huff and shove the magazine back in its slot.

“You’re not understanding me.”

“No, I am. You’re just not listening to me.” He pushes the cart up a spot and continues his easy lean. “You’re pretty like…that.” He searches the newsstand by the register and points at a baking magazine, perfectly circled apple tart dusted with sugared cinnamon and you bark a loud laugh.

“A tart Edward?”

“Don’t twist my words. I said you’re pretty like that.” He smiles, pops another grape in his mouth and starts tossing things on the conveyer belt.

Pretty like a baked good.

He’s elbow deep in the shelf of succulents, looking for something called a ‘Black Rose’.

“I know it’s in here, there’s four dead ones up top.” He’s pushing little green teardrops to the side to find his prize, a loud ‘Ha!’ when he whips his hand out, holding the little plant by its little container.

“It’s so tiny.”

“Yeah and in like six months it might not be.” He gives you a cheesy smile and sets in the cart with your other potential house plant failures. Somehow he’s managed to keep a giant flat pot of succulents alive for almost a year and every time you go to the plant store, he adds another.

“Okay, what’s its name.”

You hum at him, tapping your finger along the cart when you get distracted. A willow of a woman walks in, hair shiny like water and flowing over her thin, petite shoulders. She looks like she’s on a mission, perfectly manicured hand pointing her in the right direction when she heads for a batch of bright zinnias. Her smile painted a bright coral like the plant she picks up and places in her cart, three more following and off she billows to the next aisle full of ivy. Eddie saw it the moment you stopped listening to him listing off names. The swivel of your head and then the tapping of your finger ceasing, knuckles going white around the cart handle. He watches you watch her and he knows the question is coming before you turn back around with that frown hewn into your forehead.

“Like this.” He holds up the small succulent, barely formed petals burnished a deep purple in the afternoon sun.

“What.”

“Pretty like this.”

“You don’t even-“ You scoff and cut yourself off, heavy eye roll directed at no one while you turn away and sulk by the snake plants.

He doesn’t tell you, but he names it after you.

The Big One happens during the summer. Chrissy is engaged, and her new belle and her decide to have a joint bachelorette party, everyone invited. You know Eddie’s people, all these random characters drawn together through something you don’t quite understand. You meet Chrissy fiancé and she’s just as bubbly and sweet as Chrissy herself. Eddie gives them your gift and drops a kiss on Chrissy’s cheek and it barely bothers you.

They’d dated just out of high school. 15 years ago and before Chrissy had realized why men just never hit the spot. She floats around her party and you hang around behind Eddie while he walks the two of you around in conversation. At some point you’d gone past your standard three (3) drinks and the mango seltzers are starting to make you a little resentful.

Thankfully you catch it, excuse yourself to the bathroom and give yourself a stern stare in the mirror.

It’s not your party.

They’re just friends.

It’s not about you.

…Is it ever?

There’s a reason you stop at 3 lately, that rolling black pit of self loathing feeds on bubbly things and it’s feeding on a blonde tonight.

So when you come back you sit at a table by yourself. You tuck your hands under your thighs and admonish yourself for how wide they are. There’s a tug of war happening between your self pity and your self depreciation, a tear balancing on your lashes while you roll the wet eyes under them. Eddie finds you bent over your phone and all you can think about is how wide your shoulders must have looked from that far away.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“I had to uh, go to the bathroom.” Your pause gives you away, just south of tipsy, and Eddie smiles, his big hand sliding under your chin to hold it between his fingers. A move that usually has you melting into his palm, but tonight?

You tug your head away and he frowns. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t think I need to be here anymore.”

“You feeling okay?”

“I’m just fine. I’m gonna get an Uber home, you stay.” You stand up and hate the feel of your clothes on you. Your hair feels too heavy and the makeup you spent an hour on is suddenly sticky and tacky and wasted on you.

“No, we’ll leave together.” Eddie has concern all over his face. He tries to give you a hand when you obviously stumble and you slap it away.

The fight only starts when you start crying, unable to control your emotions anymore. You spend the whole ride home feeling sorry for yourself, saying the most inane shit Eddie’s ever heard.

“You can’t ask me to compare you to Chrissy. That’s not fair!” He laughs humorlessly when you ask him who’s prettier. “One, it was 15 years ago! Two, I’m not doing this anymore!” He yells and it shuts you up. He can hear the click of your jaw with how quick you stop yammering on drunkenly about your thighs.

“If you want to play that game, let’s look at your past relationships, huh?”

“What relationships Eddie?!” You scream back at him. There’s a part of his being that can feel the backslide into the terrible habit of yelling to get his point across. Picked up from his father and quelled at every turn, but today you drag it out of him.

“Oh don’t start with that shit again.”

“You mean all the guys that fucked me in the dark?! Or do you mean the ones that pretended not to know me in public?”

He gets to your apartment in record time, slamming the car in park and scrambling to hold your seatbelt buckled before you can run out.

“Let me out.” Your face is red from crying and from hatred and from loathing.

“No.” He says quieter but with finality. You stare at him, waiting for him to move his hand but he won’t, keeps his fingers locked around yours.

“You’re drunk, and you’ve been in a bad mood lately.” He knows he knows he knows that was the wrong thing to say. It spilled out of his mouth before he could throw the net out for those errant words and you give him the meanest smile he’s ever seen on your face.

“A bad mood?” You nod your head like you’re agreeing but he’s bracing for impact. “A bad mood. Tell you what, when I have a fucking roster of groupies and easy boys behind me, then we can talk about my bad mood.”

“You’re mad because of people I’ve slept with?”

“Look at me Eddie!” You scream and it breaks on his name, the sob you’d been swallowing for an hour finally surfacing. “I don’t fucking look like Chrissy and I sure as fuck don’t look like Steve! You still have that picture of that stand in drummer on your profile you fucked around with! Every single one of them is-fuck! Stunning!” You finally wrench the seatbelt out of his hand and free yourself. “I look like a fucking joke when you take me places. You think I don’t see people staring?” Another mirthless laugh before you kick the door open and wobble your way out. “Make someone else laugh, Eddie.”

He watches you stomp off inside and slap the button for the elevator. There’s enough time he could get out and follow you in and upstairs and finish the yelling match and maybe get you to see straight.

But he doesn’t. His grip tightens on the steering wheel so much it creaks. He feels on the verge of tears and when you disappear behind the closing doors he punches his door and drives home too fast.

The doorbell rings and Eddie answers it without thinking. You look small in your hoodie, your hair damp and braided over your shoulder. He’s so used to you standing tall with him, a sturdy pillar he can lean on instead of always having to be the support. To see your shoulders pulled in tight makes his chest ache.

“I’m sorry I haven’t answered your texts.” You say quietly.

“I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”

“God don’t-“ you wipe at your eyes and stare at your feet. “Don’t apologize to me. I shouldn’t have gone off the fucking handle like that.”

“Maybe, but you’re obviously feeling some kind of way that you aren’t telling me about.”

“It’s the normal shit, Eddie. I just let it get to me.”

He holds the door open wider and nods his head over to the couch. “You wanna tell me about it?”

You don’t, not really. It’s going to go the way it always does with you explaining a life long loathing and the few times you see daylight out of the pit it holds you in.

“I shouldn’t have started that pretty shit.” You shake your head and clutch the pillow tighter around your middle. Eddie sits on the other side of the couch, long legs tucked up under his chin and you wish you could fold in on yourself like that. There must be a twist to your mouth or a shift of your body because Eddie sighs deeply.

“You know you don’t have to ask me that.”

“I know, but that’s not what I was asking anyways.”

“What does it matter?”

You shoot him a puzzled look. “I mean, I just want-I’d like to know if-“ you start and stop and Eddie just waits until you stop floundering.

“If I think you’re pretty, what does the rest matter?”

“It just does.” Your bottom lip wobbles and you hide it behind your fist. Eddie catches it, of course, and crawls over to you, grabbing your quivering chin and making you look up.

“I can’t undo a lifetime of self loathing in one afternoon, but I can definitely help cut through that shit one compliment at a time.” He gives you a gentle kiss and feels the smattering of tears hit your face, his thumb coming up to wipe them away. He cradles your face till you bury it in his neck and quietly cry for a while.

You loose count of how many sorry’s you give him and he finally tells you enough with a smile. He gives you his phone and tells you to order dinner and he disappears for a few minutes in his room.

Later, after food and more talking and a quiet nap spent curled up against Eddie’s side he asks if he can take you to bed.

“Sure grampa.” He smiles at your humor, an improvement to the tears earlier. He gets you out of your Sad Clothes and you quickly get under the blankets. He wants to say something but he knows to start small.

Starts with the lights off and sheds his clothes before crawling under the blankets from the foot of the bed. It makes you laugh and wind your legs around him, a win in his book. He kisses up your legs leaving a wet trail from your ankles to your thighs before you feel your face growing hot the closer he gets to your center. When you think he might pull your underwear off he doesn’t, instead kissing up your soft stomach to your breast and it isn’t until his curls spill out from under the blanket that you can hear him murmuring against your skin. Chanting “beautiful beautiful beautiful” and laying down “I love you’s”. His nose runs along under your chin while he kisses up to your ear “so pretty so perfect”. He runs his hands up into your hair and hold you in place while he hovers, warm brown eyes staring lovingly into yours.

“You have no idea how lucky I am.”

“Eddie…”

“No, don’t start.” He kisses you long and slow and it makes you tear up in a good way. He notices them hanging in the corners of your eyes and kisses those away while you laugh at him, watery and light and he knows he’s winning. It isn’t long before he’s got you trapped under him, legs tugged up around his hips so he can fuck into you slow and deep, his fingers still carding through your hair and keeping your eyes on him.

“So good for me.”

“Keep your eyes on me baby.”

“Just me and you.”

You couldn’t close your eyes if you wanted to, anchored to his stare and his touch and the way he whispers at you such sweet things. He kisses you deep when he feels you tightening around him. Thighs pulled tight around his hips, hands grasping for his shoulders to hold him tight to you while you spasm and gasp around him. He follows soon after, dropping his head down to nuzzle into your neck.

“Sweet girl.”

“Always so good to me.”

“Love you so much.”

Eddie lets you unwind from him before he lays on his back beside you.

“Can I show you something?” He pulls you in next to him so you have to drape over his chest, tattoos swelling under his deep breath. He holds his phone over your heads and finds the photo album he was looking for. You catch a glimpse of one of you and start to turn your head into his chest before he tuts at you.

“What did we just talk about?”

Instead you give him the benefit of doubt and let him scroll through. He talks about all the photos he has of you and why he kept them. Why he took them or got them from Robin or Nancy or one of the kids on one of the many outings. He’s got pictures of sunsets and really good food and flowers and his succulent pot. There’s a skyline in the rain from a green room he was in that he tells you reminds him so much of you. Says something about composition and the rain and how it comforts him like you do and if you weren’t wrung out you’d start crying again. He scrolls for a half hour explaining every photo and why they’re all you or remind him of you and how he finds you in the things he finds beautiful.

“So yes, I do.” He grabs your chin and you melt into his touch as he pulls you in for a soft kiss. “I think you’re pretty and beautiful and stunning and I will remind you every day.” Another peck before he cradles your head against his chest.

One day, maybe, you won’t have to remind yourself that it doesn’t matter. That Eddie thinks you’re pretty and that’s all you need, but today you know it for sure and feel it for sure and it’s enough.

(Sacrifice for the read more)

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

fucked royalty

Summary: You are working as a nurse on a military base when you meet and fall for Frankie Morales. And he for you. But before he could finally tell you the truth about him he just... disappears and you are left heartbroken without any way to get back in contact with him. After moping for a week you put in a request to relocate and get send to Spain where your new roommate wins a weekend trip to the Kingdom of San Senova, not knowing that all your unanswered questions regarding to Frankie, would soon get their answers.

Wordcount: Alejandro Carlos Francisco Sanchez Morales x fem. reader

Wordcount: 5.7k

Rating: M

Warnings: Royalty AU, fluff, falling in love, light smut (oral f receiving, unprotected sex), angst, heartbreak, me not knowing shit about royal titles, phones are not a thing (just go with it) happy ending 😍

A/N: omg I had so much fun writing this. Hello @flightlessangelwings! I am your secret valentine and I hope you love this little story!

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The first time you saw Frankie Morales, he was getting stitches by the Doctor on military base you had been working on for almost a year as a nurse. 

You were carrying some more supplies and the medicine the Doctor had asked for, setting it down next to him when you met Frankie’s eyes for the first time. He gave you a small smile and even though his whole face was bloody (you could already see the stitches on the side of his forehead) he was still the most attractive man you had ever seen. 

You didn’t know that this would be the start of a whirlwind romance that would leave you heartbroken. 

You saw him again the next night at the bar just around the base. 

He was with there with his three friends, sporting a serious bruise on his eye from whatever had happened to him the day before. At some point one of his friends must have caught you starring, and it wasn’t long before Frankie asked if he could invite you for a drink. 

A drink turned into two, and you spend the whole night talking to each other about everything and nothing. Maybe you fell for him right then, watching him smile shyly at you, his hand holding yours. 

He insisted on making sure you got home safely after. 

„You know it’s just a five minute walk?“ You smiled at him. He shrugged, taking your hand. 

„A lot can happen in five minutes,“ he said seriously. 

He kissed you good night in front of your door, promising that he would see you soon. 

And he did. 

He was living on base and apparently on call being part of the special forces, so going on dates was a little complicated at the beginning. But what he lacked of opportunities, he made up with ideas. 

„This is…. This is beautiful Frankie,“ you smiled at him. 

He had found a field full of sunflowers, his hand holding yours as he let you through them, snapping picture after picture from you. 

„I flew over it the other day and I thought this is perfect to spend some alone time with you,“ he grinned, pulling you against his chest.

„So this was all a scheme to get me all alone to yourself?“

„Mhhh,“ he hummed, a smile on his lips as he dipped his head down, kissing you softly. You crossed your arms behind his neck, getting on your tiptoes to get even closer. His hands were on your hips, his fingers carefully digging into your skin.

He had you pinned against the wall the moment you got to your place, his lips and hands all over you. 

„Want you,“ he mumbled, kissing down your body, pushing your summer dress up. 

„Take me then,“ you gasped, when you felt his nose run up your thigh.

„I have heard the wildest rumour,“ you flopped down on the couch next to him. He was at your place for the whole weekend, insisting to wine and dine you for a change, even if it was at your home. He was waiting for you when you came home and you love the feeling of knowing someone was waiting for you. 

You had been dating for almost six months now. 

And you hoped many more months would follow. 

He was basically living at your place when he wasn’t on mission. 

„What rumour?“ He asked, his hand coming down to rest on your thigh. 

„Carla said that she heard that there’s some European Prince undercover on the base doing his military service,“ you snorted. You stretched your muscles, sighing loudly, missing Frankie’s eyes widening. 

„Sounds to me like a Hallmark movie if you ask me,“ you rolled your eyes, letting your head fall against his shoulder. 

„How would Carla know?“ Frankie asked. 

„Dunno. She send me the link to his Wikipedia page though. Wait a second,“ you pulled your phone out, opening the link. 

„There we are. Alejandro Carlos Francisco Sanchez Morales the third. Future king of San Senova. I don’t even know where that is,“ you read out loud. 

„Between France and Spain,“ Frankie provided and you looked at him, impressed. 

„How do you know that?“ You asked. He shrugged, though you could see him blushing. Adorable.

„Dad is big on geography,“ he said and you nodded, laying your head back against his shoulder. 

„Maybe you’re related to them too. Your last name is Morales,“ you chuckled. 

„Many people with the name Morales. It’s pretty common,“ he said right away. 

„I guess you’re right,“ you sighed. 

„Any pictures of him?“ He asked, kissing your hair. 

„Sadly no pictures after he turned five years old. Cute little boy though, don’t you think?“ You held the phone out.

„Cute,“ he said before he pulled your phone away, throwing it on the couch next to him. 

„Heeeeey,“ you pouted, shrieking when he pulled you beneath him and kissed you.

„Want you,“ he hummed, his hips dragging against yours, making you gasp. 

„Take your clothes off baby,“ you grinned, already pulling your shirt over your head. 

Within minutes both of you were naked and Frankie was inside of you, making you cry out his name while his lips were all over your body. 

He made you cum four times on that couch.

Making you forget about a potential European future king working among you at the base.

Santiago Garcia was Frankie’s best friend. 

And, to say it in the most nicest way, a slut. 

He had broken the hearts of all the nurses at the base, which left you to be the only one still willing to attend to him, if he had some medical issues. 

„So how are things between you and Frankie?“ He asked while he sat on the table. You were cleaning his bloody knuckles, not even asking how it happened anymore. He had a wild streak, leaving you to patch him up regularly.  

„Is this the part where you ask me about my intentions?“ You teased and he chuckled. 

„Nope. Everyone who has eyes can see how much you love him,“ he said and you stilled, taking a deep breath before you carried on tending to him. 

„Same with him too though. He speaks about you all the time. Kinda annoying if you ask me,“ you looked up at him and he winked. You continued cleaning his wounds. 

„I haven’t told him that I love him. I… We haven’t talked about what happens when he has to go back home. I don’t even know where is home for him, he always changes the topic. And I’m scared he’s just gonna end up leaving me here,“ you confessed. Your turned away from Santiago, grabbing the bandages. 

„Talk to him. Frank is… A little hesitant when it comes to feelings. He told you about his ex?“ Santi asked. You nodded. 

Frankie had told you about his last girlfriend. It was pretty serious. They had been together for three years and he could see him getting married to her. He found out that she had been cheating on him with one of his cousins. And then she tried telling him that she was pregnant which turned out to be a complete lie to somehow baby trap him. 

Your heart broke for him as he told you about it. 

„I think the whole thing broke him more than he wants to admit. Means also he can’t see what’s right in front of him,“ Santiago explained as you finished bandaging his hand, looking up at Santi. 

„So you mean I have to confess my feelings in a big gesture?“ You asked. 

„I mean you can. I bet he would loooove a flashmob,“ he grinned and you slapped his arm playfully. 

„Just tell him how you feel. We’re not gonna stick around for much longer,“ he said and you nodded, watching after him as he left the room. 

Frankie had told you that he had received word that he was close to being finished with his service. He didn’t tell you an exact time frame, but you knew the end of whatever this was could be closer than you liked. 

You would have to talk with him. 

About your feelings and about a potential future. 

Because you had already decided that if he would ask you, you would follow him everywhere. 

You had no family and only a few friends here. 

And nurses were needed everywhere. You would find work quickly. 

You and Frankie had made plans for the next evening. You wanted to cook and confess your feelings to him. 

But when he didn’t show up at your place you grew worried.

Frankie was always punctual, always calling you if he would be running late. Private cellphones were forbidden at the base, so the only way of contacting him, would be calling the base. So when fifteen minutes went by after he had promised to be here you called the landline of the house he was living at, but nobody picked up. 

Next you tried the base but the line was busy. 

An hour later and no message you grabbed your car keys and drove the way from your place to his place at the base. You hadn’t been here often. He shared the small house with his three friends and privacy was not really something they valued, leaving to interesting encounters and teasing in the morning when you stayed the night. 

The house lay in darkness when you got there. 

After knocking and ringing the bell you received no answer. 

You had a bad feeling in your stomach. You stood there in the darkness looking at the house. 

There was no one here. 

Maybe they had an important mission and he did not have time to tell you. You shook your head. In the months you had dated he had always informed you when he had to leave on short notice. 

Something was not right. 

It’s why you made your way back to the base to ask around. 

„You here about Frank?“ His superior, General Lopez asked, after you knocked on his door. You nodded. 

„He was sent home together with the whole fifth devision,“ he said. 

„Oh,“ you said surprised, your heard beating fast in your chest. 

„Anything else you want?“ He barked and you shook your head numbly, before you walked out. 

You held the tears in until you were back in the apartment and saw Frankie’s hoodie still hanging over your chair. 

He had to leave without you being able to tell him how you felt. 

You just hoped that he would call you once he made it out of the plane. 

He didn’t call. 

He did not send a letter.

He didn’t try to get in touch with you. 

So after moping around for a week you applied for a transfer packed your things and took the new job. 

In Spain.

Vowing to yourself to get over Frankie.

Two months later

„I can’t believe you dragged me into this,“ you whined before you turned the air conditioning of the car to its highest level. 

„For someone who got invited to spend a two night stay in a five star hotel in San Senova without having to pay a single cent for it, you sure sound ungrateful,“ your friend Lisa hummed as she drove the car down the highway. 

You had to admit that she was right. 

The last two months had been long and dark and depressing, but meeting Lisa on your first day, finding out she was your roommate for the six months you would spend here in Spain, was the greatest distraction. 

She was loud and playful and funny and she made it her mission to get you out of your „depression hole“. 

It’s why after winning this weekend stay in a raffle on the 4th of July celebration on base, she didn’t even ask you if you would like to come. She just informed you that you were going. 

„You know that there was a rumour back in my old base that the crown prince of San Senova was doing his military service back there?“ You asked. 

„King,“ she said.

„Huh?“

„He’s the king now. Has been for almost two months. Apparently his father died suddenly and he had to take the throne overnight,“ she explained.

„Look at you being informed,“ you teased. 

„Don’t want to be the dumb American stereotype tourist. Also, thanks to my research, I know that tomorrow will be a national holiday in San Senova because it’s the kings thirty fifth birthday. Apparently there’s a military parade. It’s a whole thing,“ Lisa said. 

„What I am hearing is, that you gonna drag me to this thing, isn’t it?“ You sighed. 

She turned her head, grinning at you. 

„You know me so well already,“ Lisa winked. 

With a chuckle you shook your head. 

Spending time with Lisa this weekend would be great. 

You wouldn’t be thinking about the plans you and Frankie had made for this birthday that was tomorrow back in the states. 

After parking the rental car and checking into the hotel (which made your jaw drop) you passed out for a nap almost right away. 

It hadn’t been a long drive, but you had started studying to become an OR nurse and you had only fallen asleep in the early morning hours after having been allowed to watch an operation last night. 

Lisa made sure to roughly wake you up an hour before she had made reservations in a local restaurant she had found on trip advisor. 

And while you wanted nothing more than to sleep, you let her excitement over this trip influence you. After a small dance party in the huge bathroom of the hotel room where Lisa told you that if you were a guy, she would have fucked you in the big walk in shower first thing while proceeding to sing into her brush-microphone, the two of you stepped out of the hotel.

Lisa had talked you into wearing a dress, so you were wearing your most casual, yet fancy dress. A dark red wrap dress that ended just above your knees. 

You drew the line at wearing heels, leaving you with some flat sandals as you walked down the street, your arm hooked under Lisa’s as she led you towards the restaurant, google maps on her phone showing you both the way. 

Walking through old European cities like these, alway left you impressed and yearning to live here. You had managed to visit Barcelona and Seville since getting to Spain and frankly you couldn’t imagine ever going back to the United States. 

You made smalltalk on the way, both of your eyes taking in the old city.

And men. 

Well at least Lisa did.

She knew about Frankie and she knew you weren’t ready for someone new. Which did not stop her to point out candidates which you had to admit were super attractive. 

But they weren’t Frankie. 

How things ended with him still left you with a billion questions. The loudest of them all being if you could be so wrong about his feelings for you. 

Even Santiago had told you Frankie loved you. 

And while you or him never heard or said the words, you deep down knew he loved you. 

He could maybe lie to you, but what reason would his best friend have to lie?

Why did he ghost you like this?

Taking a deep breath you stopped walking as Lisa announced that you made it. Looking around you saw that the restaurant was pretty busy. 

„Seems like trip advisor was right to make a reservation, huh?“ You asked and she nodded. 

„Looks expensive,“ you noticed and she turned her head, grinning at you.

„You’re paying! I invited you for this trip“ Lisa announced and your jaw dropped, watching her walk towards the entrance. 

„This trip was free!“ You gasped. 

She only laughed and you shook your head, following her inside. 

„You might have to carry me back to the hotel,“ you groaned almost two hours later. The dinner was probably the best you had in your life. 

Lisa and you had shared a bottle of wine between the two of you and you were now waiting for dessert. 

„Would it be weird to call a cab?“ She asked. 

„It’s a five minute walk,“ you laughed. 

She pouted. 

„I don’t think I can do it,“ she said with a dramatic sigh before she smiled. 

„Gonna go to the restroom. Don’t steal from my dessert when it comes,“ she said seriously, before she grabbed her purse and walked through the restaurant towards the restrooms. 

It was almost fifteen minutes later, your dessert almost gone when you heard her laugh. 

Your dessert was almost gone and you were sipping on your wine glass when you turned your head towards the sound, finding her sitting with her back towards you at the bar. She was talking to a man, her hand on his shoulder, and you smiled to yourself until your eyes landed on the face of the man she was talking to. 

As if sensing your eyes on him, his head tilted, his eyes frowning before they widened. 

„Santi?“ You whispered in disbelief. 

Lisa’s head turned when Santi stopped talking, her eyes narrowing between you and Santiago. 

She left him standing walking towards you. 

„Why are you looking at Santiago like you’ve seen a ghost? I just met him?“ She asked, her hand on your shoulder as she stood beside you. 

Looking up at her you gulped. 

„That’s Frankie’s best friend,“ you whispered, suddenly very tired. 

Lisa’s eyes widened before she turned around to look at him, just as he stepped beside her. 

„He’s what?“ She asked. 

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. 

Santiago said your name and you could feel yourself shaking. 

It was like you were underwater. You could hear Lisa and him talking, but you didn’t understand what they were talking about. 

If he was here, was Frankie somewhere here too?

What was he doing here out of all places in the world?

Why did they leave?

Why did he leave?

Why did no one tell you?

You finally looked up at him, tears lingering in the corner of your eyes. 

„Why?“ You asked quietly. He looked at you with sadness in his eyes. He was sucking on his bottom lip, nervous. He let his eyes wander through the room, noticing some people already staring. 

You didn’t know that people were staring because they knew who he was. 

Not yet. 

„Not here,“ he said and you frowned, about to open your mouth to ask what he meant, when he took a step closer. 

„It’s not my place to explain. I’ll try. But not here,“ he said. 

Both you and Lisa followed Santiago to a private dining room of the restaurant that was empty. 

You weren’t sure if you wanted to talk or if you wanted to run. 

As soon as the door closed his eyes were on you, then on Lisa. 

„Talk,“ she snapped, her arms crossed in front of her chest and you almost laughed as you saw him jump, surprised by her outburst. 

He looked at you as if in question and you rolled your eyes. 

„She knows. About me and Frankie and how all of you just…. Ghosted me from one day to another,“ you said. 

„Like I said, it’s not my place to explain,“ he started and Lisa scoffed. 

„I would love to just tell you everything but I made a vow I can’t break,“ he said and you confusingly stared at him. 

„A vow?“ You whispered, he nodded. 

You looked at Lisa who looked like she was ready to scratch Santiago’s eyes out if you gave her the go. 

„Let me take you to him,“ Santiago said. 

„Let me take you to Frankie.“

The ride in the car was silent. 

You were anxious, your hands sweating. Lisa was holding your hand while glaring at Santiago. 

„Can you tell your friend to stop looking at me like she wants to choke me?“ Santiago said after a while and your lips almost broke out into a small smile. 

„Last thing I remembered I heard Nurse Sam say you’re into that,“ you said and his eyes widened before he laughed. 

„I might be, but in the sexy way, not in the I’m gonna die way,“ he winked and you released a shaky breath. 

You tuned out the conversation that now started between Lisa and Santi, your head resting against the cold glass of the car window, your eyes trying to figure out were he was taking you. 

You hadn’t been driving for a long time, before the car stopped at a gate. You could only make out what looked like a long fence before the car started driving again, driving towards a huge building. 

It didn’t take long then before the car stopped in front of an already opened door, a deep red rug on the steps leading up and inside. The door on Santiago’s side opened and he stepped out, turning to hold out his hand, helping you out. 

Taking a deep breath you stepped out of the car, taking a look around as he helped Lisa out of his car. 

A man in a suit walked out, bowing his head.

„Duke Garcia,“ the man said and your head turned to Lisa who was already looking at you with wide eyes. 

„Where is he?“ Santiago asked. You saw the man look at you and Lisa before he focused back on Santiago. They talked to each other in hushed voices before Santiago turned around with a sigh. 

The man walked back inside, leaving you alone with Lisa and Santiago, the car driving off. 

„Frankie is in a… meeting. But I think we can interrupt it. That is, if you want?“ He asked. 

You nodded. 

You wanted answers. 

„What about you?“ You asked, looking at Lisa. She suddenly had a shy smile on her lips as she looked at Santi. 

„I’m gonna take care of her,“ Santi said with a wink and you playfully rolled your eyes. 

It took almost ten minutes of Santiago leading both you and Lisa through the building before he came to a stop in front of two closed doors. 

He looked at you, silently asking for permission, before he loudly knocked on the door. 

He didn’t wait for anyone to invite him in, before he pushed the door open. 

The first thing you noticed was that the room behind the door was huge. And looking more… opulent than some of the hallways you had walked through. Golden ornaments and deep red on the walls made it look like out of a fairytale. 

You were in a castle. Why were you in a castle?

You let your eyes wander through the room until your eyes stopping on the very end. There was a woman sitting on a chair in front of a canvas, painting someone. Taking a step further  into the room you noticed someone sitting in front of her. On a golden chair. A throne? He was wearing what looked like a uniform with various medals and buttons, looking very official. 

The man stood up and you titled your head up, finding Frankie’s wide eyes looking at you. 

The woman in front of him, got up from her chair too, bowing her head with a whispered your majesty as he took the three steps from the podium down and walked towards you. 

His eyes didn’t leave yours as he walked towards you. 

„Clear the room,“ he said and you released a shuddering breath. You felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. 

Breaking eye contact you looked at Lisa who looked as confused as you felt. 

„You okay?“ She mouthed. 

You shrugged. She eyed the man who was now standing almost in front of you with a frown before she looked at you again. 

„I will be right outside,“ she said loud and clear before she let Santiago lead her out of the room, closing the door behind them. 

You closed your eyes, gathering your thoughts before your eyes opened and found Frankie looking at you. 

Allowing yourself a moment to really take him in, you noticed how tired he looked. There were bags under his eyes you could see, even though someone did a shitty job of covering them up. It seemed like he aged at least ten years since you’ve last seen him. His hair was shorter, his beard was trimmed. 

His head tilted to the side and it was only then that you noticed the tears in his eyes. 

„You left,“ you whispered and he closed his eyes, releasing along breath.

„I’m sorry,“ he said and you had too look away from him when he opened his eyes again. Turning away you slowly walked towards the windows, looking out of it. 

If you would continue to look at him, you would cry. And right now you weren’t sure if it was out of anger or because you had missed him so much. 

You crossed your arms, your hands tucking underneath your arms to soothe yourself as you looked out into the dark night. 

„Tell me why you left,“ you said quietly. 

Footsteps came closer towards you and it was like before, like you could feel his warmth. 

„My father died,“ he began. 

„I received the news of his death while I went through the store to get some of your favourite snacks. I wanted to go over to you anyway and finally tell you the truth. Tell you that I lo…. I had the plan to tell you everything that night even before all of it happened. But… Once my father…. The King of San Senova died, I was swept up by the royal protocol. Thirty minutes after I received the message I was already on a plane and being briefed on what was going to be happening as soon as I arrived here back home.“

„You didn’t even have a minute to call?“

„I… I tried. But your number had been disconnected by the time I finally had a minute to breathe. And I had left you messages with my superior but he told me that you weren’t interested….“

You turned around, your head tilting up to look at him. 

„I never received any message from you,“ you shook your head. His eyes widened. 

„I left you a letter. And… at least a dozen messages….“

„I went to the base an hour after you hadn’t shown up and talked to your Superior. He only told me that you left earlier. There was no message.“

His jaw tensed as he took a deep breath, his eyes darkening for a moment. 

„I left you a letter that explained everything. I gave it to him weeks before I even left because I wanted you to have a way to contact me. It had Santi’s and Will’s number. Because I am not allowed to carry a cellphone.“

Sucking your bottom lip in you looked at him. 

„Why would he not give me your messages if you left them for me?“ You questioned. 

His face fell and he groaned. 

„His fucking daughter. Fuck, I can’t believe this…“ He turned around, his hand running through his hair in frustration. 

„Santi!“ He yelled and you almost jumped at the tone of his voice. 

The door opened and Santiago walked in, looking a little… wild. His hair a wild mess and… was that lipstick on his lips?

„Your majesty?“ He asked and your could see Frankie roll his eyes. You caught Lisa in the hallways behind Santi with big eyes. You chuckled to yourself. 

„I want General Lopez and his daughter here first thing in the morning,“ he hissed and Santi’s eyebrow raised. 

„Fucker never gave my messages to her,“ Frankie explained and Santi sighed as he looked at you. 

„I will get right to it,“ he promised. He turned around and closed the door behind him. 

„I should have known…. I should have tried harder,“ Frankie shook his head, his fingers rubbing over his temple. 

Slowly you approached him. 

Sure, he could have tried to get in touch with you somehow. But… you couldn’t even imagine how much his life must have changed in a matter of hours. Not that you weren’t hurt how things went, but… you could at least understand him. 

Carefully you brought your hand up to rest on his shoulder. 

He looked at you. 

„I missed you so much,“ he whispered. 

„Yeah?“ You asked. He nodded. 

„Even though there are now always people around me, I feel so alone. I always felt so alone. But not with you. Never with you,“ he turned around so he was standing in front of you.

„I missed you too. Every single day,“ you said, tears lingering in your eyes. 

His forehead came to rest against yours as he pulled you into a hug. The big clock in the room began to ring, the clock striking midnight. 

„Happy birthday Frankie,“ you whispered. 

Ever so slowly you pressed your lips against his.

„Tell me everything?“ You asked. 

He smiled. 

Things went very fast after that night. 

It turned around General Lopez had indeed not given a single message Frankie left to you because he was hoping that Frankie fell for his his daughter, who was in line to be Frankie’s wife and future queen.

He just hadn’t counted on how deeply Frankie had fallen in love with you. 

You had spend the whole night talking. After he had gotten out of his uniform he had taken you to his private quarters that fell much more like Frankie.

He told you about growing up in this palace, knowing that he was next in line for the throne. How every single relationship he had in the past only was about getting what they wanted, which was power or money, but never him. Frankie. They wanted Alejandro Carlos Francisco Sanchez Morales The Third, or now King Alejandro the third. 

That was the reason, he was so hesitant to tell you. Not because he didn’t trust you, but because he was scared it would change something between you. 

It took a while to realise that the man you heard singing „Everytime we touch“ under the shower in the morning while he ran late for work, was now a king of a whole country. 

Your weekend trip became a lot more serious once Frankie told you he loved you and asked you to stay on the day after you arrived first at the palace. 

He did not want to waste any more time pretending he wasn’t in love with you and… you didn’t want that either. 

So you stayed. 

In separate rooms in the palace at first. 

Not that you slept in separate beds even one day after you arrived. 

But the King having his girlfriend move into his quarters right away apparently wasn’t a good look. You learned much about the royal protocol in the weeks after you arrived.

Part of you wanted to let him grovel for you for a while, but you knew from the start that you wanted him back in your life. 

You didn’t want to waste any more time apart from him. 

Almost four months later Frankie asked you to marry him and you said yes. 

There would be a huge royal wedding in the next spring, the planning already under way. There was talk to combine his official coronation with the wedding, but two months was apparently too little time to plan it. Your dress alone would take half a year to make. The times of ordering your clothes online were officially over.

You had a stylist now. 

And responsibilities.

Because you would become the Queen of San Senova in the coming year. 

Which is how you found yourself here, wearing a deep green floor length gown, your back leaning against a wall, next to a room full of people who were waiting to officially see the new King. 

The new King who was on his knees in front of you, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder, your dress carefully held up as he licked into you. 

Your hands were pressed against the wall behind you, trying to stop yourself from running them through his hair. 

„Frankie,“ you whimpered quietly, your head falling back against the wall. 

He had pulled you into this room not five minutes ago, both of you not really having seen each other more than in passing in the last four days. 

Which was apparently too much time. 

You could hear the people cheering outside of the palace as they waited. 

„Don’t let the people wait, my love. Cum for your King,“ he grinned before he sucked your clit into his mouth and you came with a quiet gasp, your legs shaking. 

„You’re a fucking menace,“ you sighed and you felt him chuckle against you, before he carefully slipped your panties back and kissed you thigh. 

A knock on the door, someone reminding you that it was time, let you both jump before you laughed to yourselves. 

He put your leg back to the floor as he got up, standing in front of you. 

„How do I look?“ He asked and you smiled, bringing your hands up to brush over his shoulders. 

„Majestic,“ you smiled and he kissed you softly. He took his hand, wanting to exit the room with you when you stopped him. 

He frowned.

„You have….. me all over you….“ You mumbled and he licked his lips. 

„Just how I like it,“ he winked before he opened the door, pulling you through it. 

And minutes later Frankie stood on the balcony, wearing his crown, waving to his people as their new crowned King, while he held your hand. 

Looking at you he gave you a small wink before he kissed you softly in front of thousands of people who cheered both his and your name. 

Not knowing what their King was up to not only ten minutes ago. 

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap seven/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Bad Idea

summary: After a week of avoiding, you find Steve at your front steps.

wc: 4.3k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters. Steve and Reader have THE talk, we learn Steve & Emma’s story. There will be discussions of feelings about watching a loved one struggle with terminal illness and death in this chapter. There’s not a ton of details about her struggles but it is touched on. Angsty beginning and a very, very fluffy end 🧡

author’s note: it’s all up hill from here guys, just a little growing pains. i can’t believe there’s only three chapters left after this 🥺 thank you for reading and all of the sweet reblogs and messages through out this whole series. you have made this so special for me and it’s been such a comfort to write as I navigate my own life changes right now.

🌇 <- chapter six -> chapter eight

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The tune:

End of June -

It had been a week since Steve came back from his camping trip. A week of good morning texts left unanswered, of making sure not to look out your window when you knew he was home - even when you could hear him play with Bandit. He was doing that outside more than usual, a tactic to try and get you to come out and talk to him or hell, even just look at him. 

He doesn’t know that a few times it almost worked. 

Always & Forever

The words engraved into silver also stay carved deep and fresh in your mind, not letting you forget. You couldn’t, even if you tried. Especially not her beautiful eyes. Does she hate you? Part of you feels like you would hate you. The guilt threatens to punch the air out of your lungs.

The days go on like this with you doing everything in your power to avoid him while he did everything he could to run into you. The last ditch effort was after you caught him getting out of his car, your eyes meeting for a split second before you cut through the alley walking in through the back gate instead. Your resolve to stay away grows weaker when Steve’s good morning texts finally stop after that. 

So when Brad, the new server, gets the courage to ask you out, you say yes. It was a bad idea, anyone could’ve told you that, you didn’t really want him. He was just a distraction from facing the consequences of your own actions.  

He takes you to RPM Steakhouse in the heart of downtown and surprisingly he actually makes you laugh. He’s full of food industry horror stories he’s collected over the years. He’s not boring and he’s attentive when you talk, asking questions like he’s really interested. The butterflies that have built a home in your rib cage don’t flutter and fly for him though. The nerves that make your heart beat faster, the ones that feel like they vibrate from your fingertips, like your skin is on fire, are stagnant. 

He’s not Steve. 

You skip out on dessert when it’s offered to you, but you let him hug you before you get in your separate Uber’s home. It worked for a few hours at least. Looking out the window when your car hits the expressway, the skyline shines gleaming like the stars in the clear night sky.

It’s not very long until your phone fights for your attention, the screen illuminating the backseat. It pulls you back to reality, your breath catching when it’s not Brad’s name that flashes across your screen.

Steve

Can we please just talk? 

You aren’t expecting to see him at your front steps when the Uber drops you off at your gate. His hair sticks out wild at the ends, like he’s been pulling it all night, scratch that, all week and it makes more guilt settle deep in your gut. The scruff on his jaw is almost dark enough to be a beard now. His legs are covered in gray sweats and the white undershirt he wears fits tight over his shoulders. You hate how handsome he still is, even with his slides and socks.

He’s talking to himself, moving his hands like he’s trying to explain something, reciting a speech you can’t quite hear from as far as you are. The leftovers shift in your bag when you take your first step making the styrofoam squeak and plastic crinkle, his eyes shoot up instantly at the noise.

“Honey?”

Those wings start to stretch and flutter even after just one word. You wish you could be mad at how much power one word from him has, but all you feel is the weight of how much you missed him when his face softens.

“Hi Steve.” You catch the way his lips twitch at the sound of his name coming from your mouth when you open the gate. It had been too long for him, he’d become addicted to it without even knowing it.

He stands up, his eyes can’t help but roam your bare legs that sit exposed in your black cocktail dress, or the way the middle sinches into your waist, before fluttering out over the tops of your thighs. His own jealousy threatens to bubble over at the thought of you wearing this for someone else. He needs you to understand him.

“Is this a bad time?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck while he reads the restaurant name on your bag. He hopes whoever took you there isn’t coming back. “If it is sweetheart, I can give you more space. I just, I just wanted to see you.”

You stop in front of him, further away than normal but close enough to smell the cigar smoke that still clings to the cotton of his shirt. It mixes with the spice of his cologne from earlier this morning. His eyes find yours without hesitation, glazed over from the glass of whiskey you’re sure he nursed before finding himself on your front steps. They shimmer under the moon like emeralds and you just want to get lost in them.

The answer you want to give and the answer that you think will protect you are at each other’s throats, constricting yours from giving him anything right away. His face crumbles a little when his question is met with silence. You don’t want him to go.

“No, it’s not a bad time.” It comes out before you can fight it.

The smile that tugs at Steve’s lips warms your face like the summer sun, his hand reaching out for you before pulling back and finding a new home deep in his pocket instead. Baby steps. Your arm brushes against his when you walk past him, the smallest touch lighting the match.

“I just need to get out of this dress.” You can’t look at him when you pull at the fabric as if to show him how uncomfortable it is.

“Should I wait down here?” He clears his throat a little unsure of himself as he watches you dig through your purse. He didn’t think he’d get this far.

Cicadas buzz loud against the jingle of your keys in the beat of silence it takes you to unlock the front door. The stale air of the walkway hits you like an oven when you push it open, the heat making your skin stick more than it did outside.

“You can come up. I promise my dishes are done this time.” You flash him a smirk from over your shoulder watching the way your gesture makes him relax like you’d intended, secretly enjoying the blush you still can get to flush his cheeks so easily. 

Steve hadn’t been inside your apartment since the day he fixed your sink, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing him here. He’s handsome in a timeless way, still somehow put together even in his disheveled state. You watch the way he takes in his surroundings like he wants to commit it all to memory not knowing that he actually is, just in case this all blows up in his face and you never let him come back here again. 

The only noise that fills the room is the loud whirr of your A/C and it’s your turn to clear your throat.

“Umm, feel free to take a seat. I’ll be really quick.” You awkwardly gesture towards your green couch, grimacing when your mind goes back to the beautiful leather one at his place. 

He just nods, rubbing his palms against his thighs while taking one last look around before sitting. Your nose scrunches when you see how deep he sinks down, maybe a used couch wasn’t the best idea you’d ever had.

You wait till your door is shut to let out the long breath you feel like you’ve been holding this whole time. The familiar thumping in your chest returns ten fold. He’s in your living room.  

You try not to think too much about the yoga shorts and oversized shirt you change into, especially when your muscles relax, no longer strained by the tight nylon material dress. Allowing a single once over in your long mirror, you force yourself back out, the creak of your door alerting him of your return. His stare makes goosebumps dance across sticky skin in a battle with the air conditioning.

“Do you want some water?” You try to sound casual when you ask, keeping your back to him so he can’t see the way you’re still buying time.

“S- sure,” he stutters out, a cough following and you hear the way the cushions respond to his weight as he tries leaning forward. 

Now it's the whirr of your a/c and the grumbling of the ice machine that silences the unspoken feelings that are begging to come out. Scratching and clawing their way to the surface, the cracks in your facade start getting deeper the longer you stay quiet.

Steve breaks first.

“I think there’s a conversation we should have.” He pauses before starting over, “There’s a conversation I want to have.”

You freeze when the realization of where you left the watering can smacks you right in the face.

“Steve-“ you start, unable to meet his eyes and he’s quick to cut you off.

“Listen, I have some things I need to say and you should at least let me get it off my chest if you’re just going to pretend I don’t exist now.” His words make you realize the selfishness that hides under your insecurities of not being good enough for someone like him. 

He stands up when you turn around, both of you staying on opposite sides of the room. He takes a shaky breath before dragging his fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t think I’d ever feel these things again with anyone else, I was sure of it actually and then you showed up in your horribly packed moving truck.” He laughs a little like he’s still wrapping his head around all of it, and he knows if the situation was any different you’d roll your eyes at him for the teasing jab.

“You brought all of these things out of me that I thought I’d lost for good. Like, I can’t remember the last time I cared about what I was wearing when I left the house, but the past month I’ve been obsessed about it. Like what if she’s outside? What if she’s looking out her window? What if she wants to talk to me?” The veins in his neck show themselves as he gets more worked up but he’s not done yet.

“Then last week when you showed up at my front gate, looking even prettier than the last time I saw you, because you do that somehow, I couldn’t help myself around you anymore. The fact that you were actually going to kiss me back after I put the worst moves on you made me feel like I won the lottery or something.” His gaze meets yours to make sure he isn’t scaring you off before taking a deep breath.

“And then, and then you just - you just left without so much as a reason why. It was pretty clear though when I got home, and maybe that’s my fault because I feel like I’m doing this all backwards but you didn’t give us a chance to even talk about it.”

Steve looks like his world is falling apart, and the things he’s saying make you feel like anything but a second choice. You wish you could go back to that rainy day at his house and do things over again.

“I wasn’t given the shot at a fair fight the first time something special was taken from me, but I have one now and I’m not walking away unless you kick me out.” He straightens his shoulders a little before another anxious hand runs through his wild hair. His chest heaves as he finally gets out what’s been sitting just below the surface the whole time, his fears revealing themselves behind flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. 

The feeling like you’re slighting another woman who isn’t here is hard to navigate. It makes your own eyes sting but you don’t let the tears fall. Not when he’s handing his heart to you like he means it.

“I’d never kick you out,” your words come out quiet - soft, a stark contrast to the way his boomed loud with conviction, but he doesn’t miss them.

Hope starts to sprout deep in his chest for the first time in years.

“Never?” He breathes, relief relaxing the hard lines on his face while he looks at you from under his lashes.

His feet take him those few steps closer and when you make no moves to tell him to stop he keeps going. The sadness that plagues his handsome features slowly starts to fade and the bags under his eyes become more obvious. You want to kiss them.

Your hand extends, fingers reaching out for his. His eyes follow your movements, taking in what you’re offering and he doesn’t hesitate anymore, interlocking them like when he walked you to your front door. You watch the way his shoulders give the moment they touch and his eyes close as he relishes in the feel of it. Of you. 

Your back hits the edge of your kitchen sink when he crowds your space a little more, your fingers playing songs on imaginary strings together. Memorizing he dips between each one. His nose skims across your forehead making your own eyes close. How could you ever stay away from him?

“Never.” 

He hums at your confession, squeezing your hand gently before pulling back. He takes his time admiring your face from this close. He missed you so much, he actually thinks it’s kind of crazy. His other hand reaches up to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone. He loves the way you lean into it. You missed him too.

“Can we have that conversation now?” 

All you can do is nod, tears still threatening to spill out but now a different kind.

The two of you sit on your couch for hours, worn in cushions pushing you close together. Your head rests on his arm that’s draped along the back of it, your socked feet in his lap. He tells you how he met Emma through his high school sweetheart Nancy. The ex that turned him into a man as he put it, the one that made him really think about the kind of person he wanted to be. Even going as far to say Emma would have never given him the time of day if it wasn’t for her. Nancy was the Managing Editor of The Chicago Tribune and Emma was her Editor in Chief.

After being introduced by Nancy at a sports gala, Steve pursued her hard, especially because she said no the first three times he asked her out. It makes you giggle when he laughs about it. He said he knew he wanted to marry her after the first date and a year later he proposed to her on a group vacation with Eddie, Robin, Nancy and a few other friends in Mexico. The picture you saw was taken right after she said yes.

The wedding was small, just a few of their closest friends at The Chicago Botanical Gardens, and a dinner at Smith & Wollensky next to the river after. He told you how Eddie pretended to be mad the whole night becauseSteve made Robin his best man instead. They both moved into Steve’s apartment near Wrigley Field after a honeymoon in Italy. He said it was some of the best years of his life with her there, young and in love in one of the liveliest neighborhoods in the city. Then a few years passed and both their careers started taking off and they started wanting more as they got older. A family.

That’s when they started to invest in renovating this fixer upper of a house in a less nightlife oriented neighborhood. The house you live next door to. Between busy work schedules and dealing with contractors when the symptoms first started, they didn’t think anything of it. They chalked it up to exhaustion until she fainted in her office a few months later, then they finally saw a doctor. Another month later after multiple tests and hospital visits Emma was diagnosed with ALS.

“I’ve never seen something debilitate someone so fast, and Emma, god Emma was so strong. Seeing her like that at the end, it fucking broke me.” Steve’s voice cracks, a silent stream of tears falling down his cheeks now.

Your heart breaks for them, the tragedy of watching the person you love fall apart with nothing to do to stop it. An entire life you had planned ripped out from under you with zero warning or mercy. A cruel joke.

You reach up, using the back of your knuckles to wipe away his tears.  He leans in your touch, his gaze meeting yours with so many emotions inside of them, you think you might drown.

“We decided to stay in our apartment when she couldn’t walk anymore, with the rate it was moving she didn’t want me to live in this big new house meant for our new beginning and have her…have her die in it,” the last part comes out in just above a whisper, stopping to collect his thoughts. His brows furrow together and his fingers search for yours again. You give them to him without question. 

“We checked her into hospice a month after that, Eddie flew in the day she chose to get off assistance. She was surrounded by the people she loved the most those last days.” He takes another deep breath before he continues, it shakes just like his hands.

“That was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I don’t know how someone is supposed to go through that kind of pain and move on from it. Be a person again after it.” He takes another pause and he pulls you closer. His anchor.

“I don’t know if I’d still be here if it wasn’t for Eddie moving into the house with me those first three months, if I’m being totally honest with you.” He sniffs, his gaze falls to his lap to try and hide the shame at the thought, and you squeeze his hand a little bit harder.

“I’m so sorry Steve.” Your voice cracks at the weight of everything he’s been carrying around. The gravity of the way you left him tightens in your throat.

The tears you’d been holding back break free, making his eyes snap to yours. He lets your hand go to wipe your cheeks with gentle fingers like you did to his just moments before. He knows you're apologizing for more than just his bad luck.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m okay now,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The tips of your noses touch, tears mixing and dripping down the ends of them. You keep your eyes closed in hopes that if you focus hard enough, maybe you could take away some of his pain. Even if it’s just a little bit. “We’re okay now.”

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like this together, not speaking, letting wandering hands memorize faces and fingertips. Your breathing falls in time while your cheeks start to dry. Puffy red eyes stay closed while your muscles finally relax. His nose rubs small circles against yours that make smiles neither of you can see stretch across tear streaked faces.

When you finally open your eyes, he’s already looking at you, something brighter inside of his now like he just let go of a big secret. He doesn’t have to hide anymore.

It’s you that finally works up the strength to pull away enough to really see his whole face after depriving yourself of it for so long.

“I actually kinda feel like she sent you here, despite me,” he admits, laughing nervously, breaking the silence, “She made me promise her that I’d try and find love again when the time was right, I eventually said yes after she asked me at least a dozen times, but I never actually intended on it.” 

Steve stops for a second to brush some of your mascara that smudged, holding your eyes in the forest of his.

“Then five years later, this tough girl tries moving an entire apartment’s worth of stuff by herself next door. I mean, you practically did.” He smiles at how proud you look of yourself, “I knew I was screwed when Bandit sniffed you out.”

You giggle like you're just as love sick as him and he wishes he could play it on a loop whenever he’s sad. 

“She was probably laughing at how bad I was at trying to flirt with you.” His ears turn cherry red while he tries to hide his very real embarrassment.

“You did run away from me for like a solid week after we met the first time if you remember,” you tease, making his eyebrows raise in challenge. You weren’t supposed to roast him too.

“I guess we’re even then aren’t we?” He counters, smirking when you scoff, wrapping his arm around you so you can’t move away like you try to in fake protest.

Your legs end up draped over the tops of his thighs, fitting snug into his side. The warmth of his body makes your eyelids droopy. The cedar undertones he always carries calms all of your nerves.

“She was beautiful Steve,” you whisper, playing with the chain that dangles off his neck before looking up at him with a smile, “And maybe even a little too cool for you if I dare say.” It’s genuine when it comes out of your mouth, no hidden insecurities, an understanding that he wasn’t settling for you and it makes Steve want to kiss you even more. 

“She would have thought you were way too cool for me too.” He laughs, tracing the side of your face with his fingertips. You want to look away from the intensity of it all but you force yourself to hold his stare, keeping yourself open for him. It’s quiet for a few minutes, letting everything that was shared tonight really sink in. That stray you missed so much makes an appearance and you finally get to be the one that pushes it back, and his hair is just as soft as you imagined.

“What are you doing on the fourth, pretty girl?” The new nickname makes you shift in your seat, the hint of a smug smirk begs to break across his face when he catches it. Maybe he’s still got it.

“Nothing, I got the day off.” You hate that his question is enough to make you shy.

It’s too hard to hold his gaze this time, but he doesn’t let that slide. His fingers hook under your chin to tilt your eyes back up to his. Noses brushing, your lips just inches apart like this.

“Be my date to the block party?” He whispers, whiskey and tobacco still lingering on his breath. 

You smile, nudging your nose against his in a dare.

“I’d love to Steve.” His name comes out around strawberry chapstick lips, they brush with his feeling like velvet and it makes his nostrils flare.

He dips his head with a groan kissing the corner of mouth instead, before placing one on both your cheeks and another, a lingering one, against your forehead. 

“In honor of not doing things backwards, I’m going to wait until I’ve taken you out. The way it should happen. The way someone like you deserves.”

Steve wants to make you feel special too.

It's hard for you to feel rejected with his reasoning and seeing the clock on your stove read in bright red numbers - 2:46am. The fourth was only three days away now.

You play it off with a roll of your eyes and a dramatic “fine” that makes him really laugh for the first time all night, giving you another kiss on the cheek. This one a little wet. He can’t get enough of the way you can’t look at him after.

It’s another thirty minutes before he decides it’s time to go home when your yawn is too loud to hide and your head presses harder into his chest. He wishes he could stay, and one night he knows he will.

You both linger in the doorway with fingers wrapped up tight, neither one of you ready to let go. He just wants to stare at you, but he knows the alarm stuffed in his pocket is going to make his life miserable in three hours.

Instead, he gives you another kiss on the forehead telling you he’ll text in the morning, and he wishes he could have a picture of the smile you give him when you promise to text back.

beta’d by @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

older!steve edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

🌇 -> chapter eight

[gglitch1dd]

@genkioo submitted: Elloo Glitch!! This is my first ever post submission I just have something I wish to share and maybe put your own spin on it :)) So it's Shoyo's 3rd birthday, he's about to blow out his candles and then he says "I wish to be big brother" Izuku then glances at Y/N all smug but Y/N isn't even phased. The elder boys sighing in exasperation "great, here we go again" 😒 Cut to Izuku having to seduce convince (doesn't take much convincing on his part) his wife to have just one more little sprout 🌱

Hehehe, This is a good one.

Warning: Mentions of a past miscarriage, Izuku's raging breeding kink, hurt and comfort.

"-Happy birthday to you!" You all sang as Shoyo stood with a bright smile, his hands on the table as he looked at the star cake in front of him. Your little three year old was vibrating with excitement, looking just about on the cusp of an anerysm as he seemed just about to explode in happiness.

You chuckled as you looked over at your youngest son. You ran a hand through his curly hair as you stood with your boys there together. "Make a wish sweetheart."

Your sweet little boy looked up at you with bright green eyes, looking so excited. He looked so much like how Izuku looked at his age. Shoyo squeezed his eyes. "I wish..." He took a moment. "I wanna little brother."

Immediately you stiffened at the request, your face growing hot as your face fell. That wasn't the wish you thought he'd make.

Shoyo blew out his candles happily blissfully unaware of his request.

You fought the will to look at your husband but you failed as you looked up at Izuku. Looking at you with a smug left sided smirk on your face was Izuku. He moved his eyebrows up and down which made you laugh.

You didn't even get to speak when you heard a.

"NO!" You turned to Toshinori who sat at the opposite side of the table. He gave your husband a pointed look. "Respectfully, no! There's enough of us!" He pointed out to the four of them.

Izuku leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, putting his hands up innocently. "I never said anything." he stated despite looking the most smug you have seen him in a while.

"Yah but you were thinking something! Mom don't let that man touch you!"

"That man!?"

"Don't touch my mom!"

"Y/N please!"

You laughed at your husband as you packed away Shoyo's birthday cake into the fridge. Izuku had been begging you ever since the kids went to bed for the both of you to try again. "Izuku, we already have four boys." You reminded him.

"I know but we could always have more! I'm rich!" You chuckled as you turned to look at your husband who was motioning to himself with a bright smile. "Come on, what's one more little sprout?" He asked needly. "I promise you Y/N, we have one more and I'll never ask for another one again."

"We both know that's a lie." You stated.

"I'll even get my balls chopped off!" You looked back at him with unbelieving expression, both of you knowing that be was lying. "Please!" He begged putting his hands together. Watching your large husband who was over two hundred pounds of muscle and fat, beg you for another baby was humorous. "Just one more sprout."

You rolled your eyes as you stood against the counter. "That's a lot, Izuku. It's a whole six months of sleeping less, another sprout to drive everywhere, to enrol in school, to take and send to university. It's an over twenty-year commitment, and don't say that we have the money for it." You pointed out, making him close his mouth at the point he was going to make. "You're still very busy as the Number One and training Toshinori. Balancing four children is already a hassle as is."

You turned away from him, moving to wipe the counter of icing. Now it wasn't the fact that you didn't want another child, you loved every one of your sprouts and wouldn't regret them for the world. But, you weren't oblivious to the huge commitment that they were.

Besides, you knew you weren't exactly getting any younger. With four boys, a loving husband and a blessed amount of money all at the age of forty-one, you were ready to hang up the towel and call yourself happy with your life. You were a whole lot blessed than you ever thought you could be.

Izuku walked up to stand behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, and you knew you were done for. Slow kisses moved up your neck over to your ear. "Please..." He whispered in your ear, pressing his large tall body up against you, pressing you into the counter.

You closed your eyes as you tried to keep control of yourself. You took in a deep breath. "Izuku..."

"You know how much I love it when you're pregnant." He spoke lowly into your ear. His hands moved underneath your shirt, moving up and down your side. "You're so radiant and beautiful," He kissed your jaw. You let go of the cloth you were holding leaning back against his warm body as he held you. "So gorgeous as you're heavy with my child. There's nothing sexier." He whispered. "How you always..." You felt one of his hands sneak their way in front of you to cup your sex over your cotton shorts making you suck in a breath. You could feel the heavy bulge in his sweatpants calling your name that was against your ass. "You always get so needy when you're pregnant, sweetheart."

Hell, you were needy right now. A part of you wanted to just bend over the counter and let him have you. It had been a while since the both of you took sex out of your bedroom, for obvious reasons. It was late, the sprouts were asleep or at least in their rooms. You really could just risk it.

You moved a hand to rub behind his neck with a sweet hum at the thought of it all. Izuku treated you like a queen whenever you were pregnant. He would take so much time off of work to make sure that you were okay with the boys and Inko would often be here for the last few months of your pregnancy to help around the house especially with the boys.

However a thought struck you that made you still.

"Izuku..."

"Hm?"

"I'm not as young as I used to be, you know." You whispered. You didn't turn to face him, you didn't even try. You were quiet as you stared off to the outside. "Especially after Hero..." Your voice was quieter and you felt your husband stiffen.

You had both suffered a miscarriage a year after having Hero, who was currently now five. It was a scary moment, not because you were both particularly trying for a baby, but because it had never happened before. You had never been at high risk nor did you even know you were pregnant or for how long.

It was a terrifying moment in your life because you didn't know what was wrong and caring for a one year old by yourself while Asahi and Toshinori were in primary school, you didn't know what to do. It was after calling Mina who was luckily at home with Sero, did you leave Sero with Hero and Mina drove you to the hospital.

You had never seen Izuku look so terrified in his life.

You both had Shoyo two years later and when you did, it was an anxious time for the both of you but you were both so grateful when he was born a healthy little baby boy.

You were both silent as you stood in the kitchen. It felt heavy for a moment before Izuku moved you to look at him. "My love..." You looked up at him, his eyes looking at you genuinely warm and gentle. "If... if you really don't want to have another sprout, then we're done." You saw his eyebrows furrow as he looked at you deathly serious.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "No, Izuku, if you want-"

"No, I am dead serious. If you don't want to have another kid, I won't ever bring it up again." He stated seriously as he looked at you. "I might be the father of our children but you're their mother. Every single child we conceive together, you have a special relationship with them that I will never ever fully understand. If you are willing, we'll do this together, just like we always do. Even if we're scared."

You felt tears in your eyes as you gave him a smile. Surprisingly, one of the most attractive things your husband could ever do wasn't his body, or his job or even the photoshoots he did. It was when he was a good and loving husband and even a better father.

You blinked, letting tears fall as you nodded your head. Izuku smiled as he pulled you into his arms. You held him like that, enjoying his warm embrace as you rest your head against his chest. You heard the steady thump of his heart.

"One more." You whispered, nodding your head. "One more and then I'm finished."

"Are you sure?"

"Yah. Just one more sprout. Besides... I've missed seeing you hold a baby."

You could practically feel the smile on his face. "Really?" You nodded affirmitavely. "So just one more sprout?

"Just one more sprout."

-Glitch1d

[lovelyiida]

mha marriage headcanons<3

INCLUDES: bakugo, iida, midoriya, denki, kirishima, sero

WARNINGS: implied fem reader, vulgar language, sexual themes.

MASTERLIST

WORDS: 0.9K

KATSUKI BAKUGO

• the both of you always have hectic schedules...being pro heroes and all.

even when you guys are apart, you never shut up about each other. Especially bakugo whether that be interviews, events, etc. he's always about 'my wife my wife my wife.'

when both of you finally have time off, you need to be physically ripped off one another. hip to hip, chest to chest, lips to lips, you name it.

he loves it when he's finally able to relax from his hard days and come home and cuddle with his wife, he's not able to show his timid side all the time, he was so thankful for you.

you were the sun, moon, and stars for him. nothing you could do was bad in his eyes.

that's why if anyone ever talked shit about you, he'd lose his shit.

pull the "do you know who the fuck I am? Do you know who my wife is?"

he's just so happy to have you.

IZUKU MIDORIYA

the. perfect. husband.

anything you want, you get.

hair? done. nails? did.

he feels bad that he's never really there due to him being the top pro hero. so he always makes sure you're taken care of.

multiple calls day and night, he loves to hear your voice...or moans.

loves to show you off when he can, usually at special events where he's able to bring a date.

"hey! have you met my wife? she's lovely isn't she?"

"yeah my wife and I have been married for three years now, she's the most perfect wife I could ever have!"

TENYA IIDA

high school sweethearts, proposed at graduation.

had the biggest wedding out of everyone

values both of your privacy very deeply, one day he caught a peeping tom at your vacation villa. finding out that it was the paparazzi, he punched him square in the mouth.

wants kids, very, VERY, badly.

preferably 3 (2 boys and 1 girl).

if you ever were pregnant, he'd spoil you ROTTEN.

not one finger would be lifted.

sadly, Iida is the type to have favorites (he's a girl dad, no questions)

will do anything and everything for you, sometimes he does too much.

"I don't need your help, Iida"

"baby please."

SHOUTO TODOROKI

he didn't love you at first...

forced into a quirk marriage, it was cold, quiet, and lonely.

things would be so awkward, laying in a bed with a stranger that you are miraculously married to.

he knew that you didn't want your marriage to turn out like this, not speaking to each other only when necessary, empty conversations, and no signs of love or adoration besides a hand held in public outings.

so he decided to get to know you.

sooner than later, your relationship began to blossom into a beautiful relationship. the both of you felt like teenagers falling in love, the bond you discovered was so deep and intimate, it was love at second sight.

he became absolutely smitten for you, so smitten, he decided he wanted to get re-married. and you gladly complied.

BIG RING. BIG WEDDING. BIG CAKE.

he cried seeing you walk down the aisle, he honestly cried the whole wedding. he was so thankful for a woman like you in his life.

HUGE HONEYMOON.

EJIRO KIRISHIMA

beautiful marriage, a happy home , and way too many kids. six youngsters in total, 4 girls and 2 boys.

no one expected you to have so many kids, he just can't help to be all over your beautiful body.

from the loud tea partys with sharp plastic tiaras and itchy too-toos, to the late video game nights, he loves every moment with his children. and to top it off, he gets to kiss you goodnight.

even though you two have so many children, they have never been seen by the public. only photos of them when they were just born.

if he ever found out that his children were exposed to the media, he will go apeshit.

loves all of his kids, there are no favorites in this household.

but if he did have a favorite, it would be you.

DENKI KAMINARI

also, high school sweethearts, split up before graduation but got back together two years later.

it took a couple of years before Denki popped the big question, he wanted to be sure about your relationship before he made such a big commitment.

the proposal was intimate and private, just like the wedding. only your and his closest friends and family could attend. he wanted to make sure things were absolutely perfect.

the both of you are the peoples' favorite couple, always seen on variety shows/competitions.

CANNOT keep his hands off of you, no matter where you are.

in private or in public, his hand would be on your lower back when standing, or when you'd be sitting next to him he would rest his head on top of yours whilst his hand caressing your thigh.

from someone who is known to be of higher energy, he loves that he's able to be his calmer self around you.

he just can't get enough of you.

SERO HANTA

the last to marry

he loves you SO MUCH

he also had a big wedding, but the honeymoon was amazing, so amazing, it became the reason why you had two beautiful children today.

while they may not be angels, they are yours.

sometimes sero and your little devils would play pranks on you, hearing their loud giggles and tiny footstep ran away from you, it was annoying but you loved it.

sometimes you would come home from a patrolling shift and see sero singing the kids to sleep as he softly strings at his guitar.

you think to yourself how you wouldn't have it any other way.

hello guys!!! glad to be back for a little, I know I've been gone for a long time but I've been in school and it's currently beating my ass. hopefully I'll have more time to write soon.

also, like my new user and theme??

- lovleyiida<3

[cieloclercs]

Could you do a Oscar Piastri x verstappen!youngersister

secret glances, eyes talk of love — oscar piastri

pairings: oscar piastri x verstappen!reader

warnings. started out as fluff but it sort of turned into angst along the way?? not like superrr angsty but it’s definitely sad vibes

word count. 1.2k

author’s note. hi anon! thank you so much for the request <3 i loved writing this concept! ps, i’d definitely be open to doing a part 2 if anyone is interested 👀

Decked out in a Red Bull jacket and cap, it's a wonder no one outside the McLaren garages notices you. Maybe you've grown so used to sneaking around that it now comes as second nature. It's been like this since the start of the season: the secret kisses in quiet corners, making up excuses to get away from the Red Bull garage (and your over-protective brother), and, of course, your fair share of close calls. You aren't exactly inconspicuous in the paddock. There are eyes following you almost everywhere you go — but over time, you've learnt to avoid them. You can only thank your lucky stars no one seems to have caught on yet.

Sometimes you wish it didn't have to be this way; that you could be like any other normal couple on the grid. Kiss him when he triumphs, comfort him when he falls. The feeling can grow intense, especially after a day like today. You have to watch him on the podium like any other supposedly indifferent onlooker, pretending that your cheers are only for your brother on the top step. Oscar's first top-three finish in Formula 1 (albeit in a sprint race) is by no means insignificant, and all you want to do is pull him into you over the railing and kiss him. But you can't. Not here, not with your brother and father, and the whole world watching. You've already agreed that keeping your relationship a secret is best for the both of you. Yet that doesn't stop you from wishing for more.

Instead, you’re left to sneak into his driver’s room as soon as your brother’s back is turned. He’s caught up in the media pen, chatting with Charles. Another thing you’ve learnt over the past six months is never to miss an opportunity when it presents itself – this is as good as any you’ll ever find, because Max is talkative at the best of times, but even more so when his childhood rival is around. You leave them somewhere between ‘safety car restart’ and ‘left-hand tyre degradation’. He won’t even notice you’re gone.

Oscar is halfway out of his suit when you arrive. His back faces you, covered only by his white fireproofs. You can see every move of his muscles beneath them. You murmur a soft greeting as you step into the room and close the door behind you, heart lifting to see him turn to you and grin. To the world, you know Oscar will appear calm and level-headed about his result – but with you, in private, he’s as happy as a puppy dog being given his favourite treat.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” You whisper into his shoulder as he wraps you up into a hug. “You drove so well.”

His lips curve upwards, and you feel it against the skin of your neck. Oscar’s hands fall instinctively to your hips when you pull away, rubbing slow circles that he probably doesn’t realise leave burning trails against your flesh. You loop your arms around his broad shoulders, playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, just as he likes. He lets out a contented sigh.

“I panicked at the restart.” Oscar smiles down at you sheepishly. You roll your eyes. It’s typical of him – always so critical, even when he’s just produced one of the best rookie performances in Formula 1 for years. Sometimes you wish he could see himself the way you see him. Then maybe he’d celebrate a little harder, look a little prouder when things finally start paying off for him. It’s not that he isn’t confident – but Oscar’s confidence is the quiet, self-assured kind. Sometimes you just wish he would shout from the rooftops about how incredible he is: because if you can’t do it, then you need someone to.

“It doesn’t matter.” You tell him firmly, “No one was going to be able to hold off that rocket ship. Not even you.”

He giggles at the term. It’s such a lovely sound, you think. Your favourite in the entire world.

“D’you think you can get him to slow down a bit? Give the rest of us a chance?” Oscar asks, arching an eyebrow mischievously. You grin back, a little reluctant to shake your head.

“I wish I could, but he’s just not wired that way.” You sigh. It morphs into a giggle when he grips your waist tighter, pulling you into his chest. You look up, and he’s already gazing down at you expectantly. His hair is still a little sweaty from his balaclava, but you find you like it that way. He has the cutest little ringlet sticking out from the rest of his relatively tame curls. You fight the urge to tug on it.

“You still haven’t given me a kiss.” Oscar remarks with another cheeky raise of his eyebrows. He leans forward, puckering his lips the slightest bit, and you laugh, louder this time.

“You’re such a dork.” You snort. But you press your lips to his anyway. Somehow, they always taste like some kind of citrus fruit – what exactly you can’t put your finger on. It overwhelms you, clouding your mind and your senses, making your knees weak. They’re soft too, his lips, like pillows. You can feel him smile into your mouth, swallowing your soft sighs. It’s not fair, you think, that a person can make you feel this way with just a kiss; not fair that you’re grappling at his shoulders for support, afraid your knees are going to give out if you don’t. He never lets you fall though. His arms are always there, pulling you in, crowding you against the wall, in your hair, all over your body, lighting every inch of it on fire.

Then there’s a knock on the door, and the spell is broken.

You turn towards the sound, breathing heavily. Oscar glances at you, with a look that reads keep quiet. He clears his throat, calling through to whoever is stood outside his driver’s room.

“What is it?” he croaks.

There’s some shuffling from the other side of the door. Then: “Uh – Team meeting in ten minutes.” The person says. Oscar calls back some kind of affirmation, but you don’t hear it. That feeling is back. The one where you long not to hide in secrecy. It’s so unfair that he makes you feel so safe, so loved, and you can’t even show it to the rest of the world. You want people to know that he’s yours.

“You ok?” Oscar asks after a beat of silence. Your eyes find his, and you nod. I will be, maybe, you think. You want to tell him that you’re sick of hiding, but you’re not sure how he’ll take it. You both have a lot at stake. What if he can only love you in secret, never in front of the world?

He kisses you goodbye, and you allow yourself to believe that’s not the case. Oscar isn’t shy about his affections – he’s soft and he’s clingy and his eyes when he looks at you are full of love. They’re your own reflected straight back at you. One day you’ll walk into the paddock, and it’ll be with his hand in yours. You swear it.

But if he doesn’t want that, a life in the shadows is surely better than a life without him.

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 16: tear / word count: 724 cw: needles

Bets are James' speciality, so it comes as a big surprise when the Stars don't win the Stanley Cup Final. The thing is, now Remus and Sirius have to decide where on his body James will have to get his first piercing ever, and to say he's nervous is an understatement. That's how the three of them end up in the waiting room of a tattoo and piercing shop with an appointment for him to get his belly button pierced. 

James is a generally daring and risk-taking person, not that he's terrified of needles but he does feel a little uneasy knowing that in a couple of minutes one will be piercing his skin. Despite having informed himself about the risks and having taken all the precautions beforehand (cleaning the area well, making sure he has the right anatomy for the jewel and wearing a cropped shirt to avoid friction afterwards), he still can't help the thin layer of cold sweat that is building up on his neck.

"Relax, Prongs, you're in good hands," Remus says, patting him on the back. Oh, and the other detail that makes him the least bit uncomfortable is that his ex is the one doing the piercing, isn't that funny? James knows Regulus will do a phenomenal job, he's been doing this for almost eight years so it should be effortless.

They were a couple when they were 16 and 17 respectively, and it's not that they had a bad break-up or completely lost touch, it was just the right person at the wrong time given their respective family circumstances. So if James is nervous about being at the younger man's mercy six years after they broke up, no one can blame him.  

"James, you can come in," Pandora tells him from the reception desk.

The thing about Regulus is that every time James sees him, he looks more beautiful than the last. This time the new snake tattoo circling his entire left forearm in red ink is messing with his mind exquisitely, and when he finally turns around subtly smiling James is gone.

"Look who we have here, James Potter. To be honest, I never thought I'd see you here," he says in the soft, slow voice he reserves for him. "So, belly button piercing, Sirius told me about the challenge. Poor you."

All James can do is nod and chuckle slightly, shocked by the sparkle on his ex's tongue when he speaks. Everything that happens after Regulus asks him to select a piece of jewellery he likes and to lie down on the stretcher happens in slow motion. Regulus putting on a new pair of latex gloves, Regulus sanitising the area where he's going to pierce, Regulus marking where the piercing will be, Regulus tearing off the envelope that holds the sterile needle... James doesn't know much about the world of piercings, but he doesn't think Regulus should be straddling his legs during the process. 

Of course he won't be making any complaints. 

The light on Regulus's tongue appears again as he says something he can't quite process.

"... understood? Oh, no, James tell me you're not about to faint," he says with a hint of concern.

"No, I'm fine, I swear!" he hurries to say. "But can I hold on to your thigh while you do it?" 

"Sure you can," he replies with a smirk.

That's how James doesn't even notice the moment the jewel is installed in his navel, concentrating on the way the tattooed man frowns in concentration.

"You're all set." is all the piercer says but there's no sign that he'll be getting off him any time soon.

The new piercing being forgotten and in a moment of courage, James intertwines both index fingers in the silver eyed man's trouser belt.

"Got something to do after work?" and the question is all it takes for Regulus to lean in and kiss him deeply but slowly. A tongue piercing shouldn't make him feel this good.

"I've got the whole afternoon available if it means continuing to see you in that crop top." he murmurs against his lips then bites down slightly on the bottom one. 

In short, he lost a bet, won the scolding of his best friends for taking so long and got his right person back at the right time this time.

[byuntrash101]

lovers on the sun

reader x dom!mingi ft. yunho angst | smut | mdni 4.8k you never understood why mingi chose that life. chose to be an outcast, a loveless bandit. over the years you came to terms with it. you got married, you grew. but when the outlaw finds himself gravely wounded his instincts drag him back to you. to the person he's willing to sacrifice everything for. nsfw tags under the cut

plot, outlaw!au, friends to strangers to lovers (?), hurt/comfort (the hurt part doesn't go too hard dw), a lil' angsty but lowkey wholesome, cheating, mutual pinning, good ending, yunho is mentionned but does not appear. nsfw: nipple play, body whorship (f), pet names (baby, doll) oral (f), slight begging, unprotected sex (i mean they didnt have a choice back then), mingi in the cowboy hat and leather coat (im weak for him </3), big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms (f), creampie, cock warming, he's madly in love with you

playlist: jeannette - el muchacho de los ojos trites, david guetta - lovers on the sun, amy whinehouse - love is a losing game

a/n: thank you so much @ssaboala for hosting this amazing collab. and thank you @hwaightme for helping me so much and brainstorming ideas. also i really recommand you listen to the playlist it will for sure put you in the nostalgic western mood <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

You can’t help but be worried as you wake up to a cold bed. You haven’t seen Yunho in a couple of days. You wonder if he’s fine as you look out the window of your room to the cornfields. It’s just after dawn but the hot summer air is already laying heavy over the fields, making the green and yellow stems undulate. 

You sigh heavily, imagining your husband on his horse in his uncomfortable and sweaty uniform combing the streets, the plains, the fields, the whole town, the whole state, maybe even the whole country. All of that on an empty stomach and sleep deprived.

But you knew he wasn’t going to come home before he caught him. Song Mingi. Ever since he was appointed sheriff it has been his life goal to catch him. The public enemy number one. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much blood this man had on his hands. He pillaged and robbed and murdered. Always slippery like an eel and managing to get out of justice’s grasp.

Until a couple of days ago where he made a fatal mistake. Your husband jumped out of bed in the middle of the night and mobilized the entire department to look for the man. He was hurt and hiding somewhere. He only needed to be found. The dangerous outlaw reduced to a defenseless flower only waiting to be plugged. This time he knew he was done for and Yunho was going to finally catch him and bring him to justice and ultimately to the gallows. Where your husband thought the fugitive’s righteous place was. Behind the church and six feet under.

You chuckled humorlessly to yourself at the name. You used to know this name. You used to know it very well. Or at least you thought you did. You used to be close to Song Mingi. The three of you were. Mingi, Yunho and you. You were just a bunch of teenagers, you didn’t have a worry in the world. But you grew up and Yunho joined the force as Mingi did and you can only guess power got to his head. He eventually got caught involved in shady business with even shadier people. Until he left and became the fugitive. The outlaw you only knew by the wanted posters put up everywhere in town.

His name lost all familiarity. But your heart couldn’t forget about his soft half smile. About the warmth pulling in his orbs when the three of you stayed up in the hill to watch the stars, sleeping under the open night sky, despite the snakes and coyotes. Even the crackling fire couldn’t rivalize with the blaze of his sharp eyes on you. You couldn't forget his rough hand snaking its way on your nape, pulling you closer to lay the gentlest kiss on your lips. You nervously glanced over at Yunho sleeping next to the both you. You felt nervous even if this happened long before you got married, long before he confessed to you. And for Mingi there was not a trace of doubt on his sharp features, no evil in his eyes. Only love. You thought at least.

That was the very last night you saw him. The next day he fled to the valley and proceeded with his life of crime. Your heart ached again, how could he have chosen that life… over what he had. Why would he choose a blood stained pile of shriveled dollar bills instead of this night on the hills with you… instead of this kiss? Instead of you?

You shook your head trying to forget about the uncomfortable feeling of your skin crawling as the wholesome memory turned into bitter dormant ache. You have accepted it over the years. Truth was you never knew Song Mingi… You only knew about the sheep but never about the wolf.

But then again you have to get on with your day, and carry on. Life goes on and doesn’t wait. You have to take care of the animals in the barn.

Since Yunho was the town’s sheriff earned enough money for the both of you it wasn’t necessary for you to have a huge farm. A couple of pigs, some hens, two horses and a cow was well enough and tending to them was the only labor you ought to do. 

You traded your nightgown for a dress more appropriate to work in. A light blue flowy ankle length dress with long sleeves and a high neckline that was going to protect your skin from the hot sun, but would still let you breathe through the light material.

You hoped in your worn out brown leather ankle boots and headed to the barn. First of all, you start by checking if the hens laid eggs, you gently push the chickens to harvest the six eggs and place them in your basket that you set aside then you go to feed the cow. You go to take a big serving of hay and you make a mental note that you’ll have to go by the neighboring farm and purchase some more because you are running out. Maybe the cow and horses have been especially hungry lately. 

You place the hay in the big manger and head to the fence to let the cow take a stroll in the prairie next to the house. 

As you reach out the fence, you nearly scream. The handle is covered in blood. The colors leave your face as you realize that the traces are fresh as you see one single drop on the dusty floor. You squint and realize there’s a trail of blood going out the barn. You follow the trail circling the barn and landing behind it, the trail disappearing behind tall weeds and bushes that you had left unattended for quite a while.

You pushed aside the leaves and discovered some rags maculated with blood and at the end of the trail a man, lying, his back resting against a small trunk, sitting on a pile of hay. Barely holding off.

Mingi didn't even know why he dragged his mutilated body out here to rot in the sun, he didn't know why he took that chance. He just had to. If he wasn't going to see the sun rise again tomorrow then he at least wanted to see it set on a familiar face. A face he held in his memory so dearly. Even after all these years. 

After all this time, when he finally sees it, the face he pulled through thick and thin for. Your face. Your face emerging from the bushes. There are not enough words in the world for him to express the relief he feels. He doesn’t have enough time to carefully curate them and voice them outloud. So he only chooses to smile.

You, on the other hand, felt your heart jumping in your throat, the frantic muscle getting stuck there, making you swallow thickly as your eyes grow in surprise. You have trouble believing your senses. Have you stayed in the sun for too long? Have you contracted yellow fever? Can you trust your eyes, reflecting this image of the past? A figure you thought (and maybe even hoped) you would never see again?  But you know your eyes aren’t deceiving you the second his lips curl into a half smile, rounding up only one of his cheeks. The familiar sight takes you back to the hills, to the crackling bonfire, to the starry sky, to the warmth of his orbs. Even if you see the red tint of diluted blood on his teeth and the way pain twits his eyebrows. It’s the same. The same smile you remembered.

“Mingi?” you finally breathe out, broken voice hindered by your heart still sitting in your throat. Barely audible. But still heard by the beaten man. 

“Hi doll” his deep voice echoed yours, hardly louder than a whisper. 

There’s no resentment, no hatred, no evil in his voice, in his eyes. And for that instant you forget about the endless tales of horrors, about the murders and the blood and you forget about the wolf. Because you see only the sheep, hurt and needing your help.

You throw yourself on your knees next to him, you wrap your arms around him, careful to avoid the wounds. 

Mingi closes his eyes and you lean against him as he suppresses a cough. He almost forgot about the smell of your hair, about the warmth of your hands, about the sound of your voice. Almost, but he didn’t. He could never even if he tried. He could lose everything but you. And if you were only a memory then it was all he needed.

***

You brought the man inside, limping and leaning on your side. You sat him in the wooden and creaking chair of the dining room. The tall man grunted as he settled down.

You kneeled next to him. And very carefully, you lifted his long leather coat to uncover the blood maculated shirt.

"So... How does it look doc?" Mingi joked, even going as far as to lightly chuckle before the sharp pain on his side wiped the half smile off his face.

"Let me help you" you said, carefully peeling the fabric off, the coagulated blood stuck to the opened wound, making Mingi wince as he felt the air blow on his sweaty skin. You ran your finger across his skin, carefully avoiding the wound.

Your touch was so soft, so gentle. Mingi sighed, closing his eyes. Your tenderness almost making him forget about the pain jabbing him. It's been so long, so so long since Mingi has felt this. He hasn't felt a soft touch in a lifetime, a contact that was free of any kind of aggression, that didn't demand anything from him, that only intended to soothe him.

It's been so long since he's felt safe.

That was the word. He felt safe. Safe with you even though he was half naked, wounded and unarmed. He felt safe.

You took your time to treat the wound, cleaning it with what you had on hand, which was the rest of a bottle of home distilled bourbon, warm water and clean rags. You patched him up and handed him his hat back.

"You should go, Mingi" you started after a long silence. You tried to conceal the lump inside your throat as you enunciated the heavy words.

Mingi looked up at you, grabbing his hat. He didn't want to go.

"Y/n.. I-"

"You know he might come back. If he finds you here he's gonna..." you hesitated. “Finish the job”

"You mean kill me?" Mingi looked you dead in the eye, a coldness laying latent in his orbs, a coldness that gave you shivers along your spine even with the hot sun heating up the windows of the small dining room.

You closed your eyes shut trying to chase away tears. After all these years and all he’s done. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate him.

Mingi wanted to scream. Why did he get to be with you, to touch you, to lay next to you every night while he was perpetually running, fleeing and living on the edge of the world like a wild dog. Barely surviving on the sole memory of you and the love he felt and feels for you.

"Mingi..." you started hesitantly. You had the chance to ask now, maybe this opportunity would never represent itself again.

"Why did you kiss me that night?"

Mingi’s anger evaporated into smoke as his eyes snapped to you. For all these years he had feared you somehow resented him. That somehow the tales of his life came back to you and poisoned your heart. He feared that you too saw him as the bandit, the outlaw he had become. But there was no hatred in your quavering voice, no bitterness pooling in your orbs. Only incomprehension and sorrow. 

Your eyes were glazed over by a sheen of budding tears, drooping in sorrow and you looked up intensely at the man. 

You waited for an answer, you waited long enough, you waited for years. And waiting again for those few seconds was too much.

“Why did you kiss me if you were going to leave me Mingi?” this time you called his name. And Mingi felt like the question had wrapped around his heart and was holding it tightly, squeezing it until the agonizing organ gave out.

“What did he tell you?” Mingi finally spoke, tipping his cowboy hat down, making sure to conceal his face.

“What?”

“What did Yunho tell you?” Mingi reiterated, this time his voice broke, echoing the shattering of his heart.

“I-” you started, stuttering.

“I never did any of those things, y/n” he finally rips the hat off his face, the disheveled and sweaty hair adding a layer of urgency to his state of despair as he raises his voice in frustration. “Yunho planted the evidence! He framed me! Because he couldn't stand that I was to become sheriff, he wanted to control the city, he wanted the power and he wanted… you…”

Mingi took a deep breath, his voice softening to a whisper. “He wanted you for himself. Because that night I-... I-” Mingi hesitated as you hung on his lips. “I wanted to marry you, y/n.”

You felt the blood vanish from your face. You became livid and your vision blurred, your world was crumbling before your very eyes.

“This is impossible” you whispered more to yourself than anything else.

“In the morning I told Yunho that I had kissed you and wanted to marry you and he couldn't bear it. So he framed me as a bad man to get me out of your life. I ain't no saint! I know! But the rest of it, I only did because I needed to survive. I stole to feed and killed to defend myself. Never in cold blood. Y/n, you have to believe me!”

Mingi’s words were mushing together barely making any sense in your ears that were already rigging, you felt dizzy, you felt ill. How could that be the man you married? The man you shared your life with. The man that looked at you with the most innocent big round eyes. The man that you knew cherrich justice above all else, so much that he didn’t care that sword of justice he was wielding struck his best friend because he was led astray and that was the treatment reserved for criminals. 

But that was all an act. It was never about righteousness and justice, it was about vengeance and envy.

Your knees gave out and you stumbled onto Mingi’s chest. He caught you in time, wrapping his strong arms around you, grunting as you pressed your weight onto the fresh wound. 

Your life was collapsing. Your chest started to heave up and down rapidly, your heart racing as your reality faded to black. Nothing to anchor yourself to. Nothing real, nothing you could hold on to to keep yourself afloat. Only lies and smoke. And you fell and fell into panic and into Mingi. 

Suddenly you were back again, back from the darkness and you looked at him to find your peace again, both lost in this familiar silence. He protectively wrapped his strong arms around you, and soothingly pressed your head against his chest, the leather of his long coat brushed against your cheek as Mingi held you just like that. He felt his warmth, you heard his heart beating against his ribs and you felt… him. Not the outcast, not the outlaw, but just your friend Mingi.

Ever so gently, with a softness you had never ever known from a man, even your husband, he wrapped his hands made rough from labor around your chin and gently lifted your face upwards, you found that Mingi’s eyes were as deep as the sea, just as mysterious and alluring, strangely welcoming.

And slowly, very slowly Mingi closed the distance between you. Giving you all the time in the world to voice your desire for him to stop if you felt that way. But you didn't want him to stop, instead you gripped at the long coat tighter, somehow afraid that he too was a mirage, a body made of haze that was just another lie. You had to make sure he, at least, was real. True.

And he was.

When your lips connected you felt as if your body has gone up into flames, open fire bursting from your chest to your heart, convincing you to close your eyes, and give complete access to Mingi. But even though he didn’t that use trust to his advantage, he didn't engulfed himself into you. Instead he gently deepened the kiss, taking the time to let you warm up as your fingers relaxed around the worn out leather. Mingi’s hands were getting to know you, caressing the soft cotton of your dress. His rough palms contrasted greatly with the softness of his touch.

Slowly he parted his lips, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth inviting your tongue into a dance, giving a few kitten licks and getting to taste you, you moaned when his hands reached down to the small of your back. 

“Mingi” you breathed against his mouth. There was no words to describe what that simple word did to him. Simply his name gently murmured like this. It was like having an angel speaking of the devil's name so fondly, so gently. He didn't feel worthy but there was plenty of time tomorrow for guilt. Today Mingi only had time for you.

He gently laid you back onto the wooden dining table and you hoisted yourself up on your elbows, he leaned over you as his kiss spilled from your lips to your neck. You whined once when your lips mourned the loss of his warmth and once when you felt his hot and wet tongue glide across the thin skin of your neck, you let your head fall back as Mingi progressed further down until he’s met with the collar of your dress. You don't want to lose the way he feels on your skin so your hands quickly busy themselves with the buttons, practically ripping them off to take the thick fabric that separated you from Mingi off you while he watches with this signature half smile, satisfied to see you so eager to expose yourself to him. 

As soon as you’re done with buttons he latched on your skin again, sucking on your collar bone going down and then up the curve of your breasts until he reached your bra he swiftly reached around to unclasp it, he drew back to see the way your beautiful breasts spilled out of the article, gently falling over at each side of your chest. Mingi’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyes avidly roamed over you, taking your form in. 

The way his eyes turned sharp as he looked at you made you squeeze your thigh together as your felt arousal pool into your lower stomach, heat spilling into your underwear.

“So pretty” he murmured before he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, immediately hardening into a tight nub. He flicked his tongue on the erected knob while his warm hand kneaded the other one, perfectly distributing his attention to your body, already feeling sensitive. You arched your back and pushed his face further into your skin when he sucked on the hardened nipple, making your moan his name. 

“Fuck- Mingi” you panted. “Don’t stop”

Mingi briefly stood back up to take the long coat off, only harboring the leather vest that let you admire his toned arms flexing as he ripped the coat off to throw it over one of the chairs. He didn't even bother taking the dress off you, only flipping it over your stomach as he pulled down your underpants, leaving your bottom half completely nude. 

Suddenly coy you pressed your thighs together, shielding your modesty from his ardent gaze, he looked back up at you with knitted brows, such desperation swimming in his eyes, as if he absolutely needed to see you.

“Please” he exhaled. “Please let me see you, y/n” he pleaded.

And you finally parted your legs, first your feet then your knees and finally your thighs.

“Fuck” Mingi cursed as he palmed his aching  lengh throught his pants. He was finally seeing you, like how he imagined you a thousand times. But even the wildest dreams could never live up to that reality, to the truth of you, you were breathtaking. The way your beautiful center was already swollen with need, twitching in anticipation to be touched, your folds covered with the glistening sheen of your juices lazily running down your entrance. 

Mingi felt like he’d finally seen the light. Like redemption was within grasp, somehow contained within your holy form. He felt like he needed to worship you, like he needed to get on his knees and so he did. 

He kneeled in front of you, snaking his arms around your things and grasping at the supple flesh to pull you closer to him, bringing his lips close to your most private of places.

You felt heat rush to your face and chest as your heart raced, uncontrollably hammering into your chest, menacing to break free anytime as Mingi dug his nose right into your folds. 

“Oh my g-” you gasped as soon as he made contact with you. Your head immediately spinning, your core quivering and demanding more.

Mingi planted one soft kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves, then went to your entrance where he flattened his tongue to swiped it across, spreading your folds and scooping as much as your slick as possible, earning a whimper from you. Mingi wanted more of this, of your sweet taste, more of your honey coating his tongue, more of your beautiful voice singing soft melodies into his ears, more of your beautiful face looking down at him in pleasure, glossy eyes pleading for more.

“Baby” he moaned against you before burying his face into you, flicking his tongue on your clit as you moaned again, louder this time. Mingi concentrated on this part of you, assaulting your clit with flicks after flicks, jolts after jolts of divine pleasure, spreading heat in all of your limbs. Mingi felt your thighs tense up in his hold and he suddenly let go. 

You whined as you felt your desperate center throb for more of him. You looked up at him right on time to see him sink not one but two long fingers inside your tight heat. Immediately curling them into your sweet spot. Your eyes rolled back to the back of your head, once again you let out a lewd sound that bounces off the walls making the hairs on Mingi’s nape stand and his length leak arousal. 

“You like that?” he asked, deep voice a little more impatient.

“Yes!” you exhaled. “Please more, more” you begged, your eyes coming back into focus.

“Of course, doll” he said before coming back down to your demanding center. He pumped his long fingers in and out of your heat, each time your eager little cunt pulled them back inside, tightly gripping around them. He wrapped his tongue around your clit, sucking and licking until you were on the verge of your release.

“Please” you said, your hand flying between your legs to keep Mingi’s face exactly where it was. “Don’t stop” you breathed, your thighs tensing, your swollen clit pulsing under Mingi’s wet and hot tongue.

“Fuck” you said, pressing on his face a little harder which made him smirk agaisnt you. “I'm cumming” you said in a strangled moan, you legs trembling your orgasming center gushing more and more of your honey , completely quenching Mingi’s thirst for your sweet nectar, walls fluttering around his fingers as he guided you down.

Mingi hurriedly kicked his pants off him and stood between your legs, large cock resting heavily in his palm, the head made red and shiny with precum.

“Please give me another one of those” he whispered with edginess, deep voice strained with need. “I wanna see and hear that again.” he rubbed his cock against your folds, mixing both of your essences into one, drenching his length with your slick. “Please this time cum on my cock” he gently pushed his tip inside you, closing his eyes shut as he felt your walls fluttering around his cock head, finishing your previous orgasm around his cock, your pretty little pussy pulsing around him as he continued to push himself in, breathing heavily to keep himself from bursting on the spot.

“Fuck” he cried, finally peeling his eyes open. “You feel so good around me baby” he breathed. “You’re so pretty, so perfect” he praised you. Taking a good look at you. You were stunning, beads of sweat running down your temples, your breasts spilling from the half undone dress, said dress completely wrinkled and roughed up, not hiding anything away from him anymore. 

“Ok” you said, out of breath, pushing a dampened strand of hair away from your face. “Make me cum around your cock, Mingi” you said, spreading your legs even wider, giving Mingi an even better view of his cock splitting you in two.

“Fuck-” Mingi cursed again, immediately taking you up on the offer. He started to pull out only to push back in again, just as gently. The way his girth split you open made you moan his name. You whimpered at the delicious stretch of your walls accommodating his generous mengh as he filled you up to the brim so perfectly almost like you were made for him entirely. 

“Please harder, Mingi” you said, your fingers pulling into the leather cropped vest, where you could see from underneath his toned abs and belly button. 

“Of course, doll” he said as he picked the pace, a wince of pleasure sneaking on his face when you gripped even tighter around him, letting out a satisfied groan. 

With each powerful thrust he was grazing against your g spot making your moan and arch your back, pushing your hips into him everytime he pushed himself back in.

“Fuck you’re so good to me baby” he panted, a large bead of sweat running from his hairline along the bridge of his sharp and long noze. 

You only replied with more moans, growing louder and louder as you both fucked each other, rocking the dining table recklessly the sound of your skin clashing and filling up the space along with groans and grunts.

“Baby, I'm close” Mingi said in a strangled and high pitched moan that was far from the usual deep voice he used.

“Me too” you answered “Please inside” you struggled to make sense. “Please cum inside me”

You didnt care about the consequences right now, moreover you weren't even thinking about them. You only thought about Mingi deep inside of you giving you the raw, rough unfiltered love you have been needing for years. Ever since he kissed you back on the hills. And suddenly you were back at the hilltop again.

Your body started to shake as you came undone again as Mingi delivered large and thick ropes of burning cum inside your heat, your name slipping off his lips a thousand times. Both of your bodies going up in flames, throwing each other in the fire that lighted you both as he kissed you again.

You pulsed uncontrollably around him, as he became sloppy, his thrusts more shallow and irregular until they came to a stop. He crashed over your body, panting, chest heaving up and down as you stroked his hair. He stayed inside you for a while, his cum lazily dripping out of you. He didn't want to lose this connection with you, he wanted to stay right there. Right here with you.

***

“Come with me” Mingi said as he was ready to hop on one of your horses, as the sun was setting over the fields. 

“Mingi I-” you started.

“Forget about him” Mingi cut you off before you have a chance to mention your husband's name. He took your hands into his big and rough ones. “Come back with me to the hills, y/n” he said. You opened your mouth to speak again but Mingi didn't let you talk. He was afraid of your answer. “We won't have much but we will have each other. And if I have you then I have everything” he pressed his chest against yours and you heard his heart beat into your ear, testifying of his true feelings, much deeper than any words. 

This was your chance to let the deceiving lies behind to embrace a life of true love. And you took your chance. As you hoped on the horse right behind Mingi, leaving the empty house behind. You held onto him, your fingers found their way and intertwining with the leather again as you rode into the sunset, lifting the dry dirt in your wake. The stars finally crossing as your destinies took the same path. The sun meeting you on the horizon, inviting you with it.

Two star crossed lovers on the sun.

ateez masterlist | navigation

a/n: phewww it is done! i cant even begin to explain the STRUGGLE i had while writing this but i hope it turned out good? maybe? it was wayyyy out of my comfort zone if you liked it please tell me in the comments or reblog (pls don't use the community labels please) or leave a nice ask. that would mean so much <3. anyways thank you for the awesome collab anne @ssaboala. don't forget to check out the other authors' amazing fics here. byeee~

[allidoishuynh]

First post or maybe second. I think there's a picture of stuffed animals from like a decade ago. But let's see how this goes.

Jason is having his death day, Danny wants to help. (Xey and xeir are used as pronouns for an alien species for whom English can't really cut it)

The day sucked. It fucking sucked every single year. Every inch of his body ached and screamed in pain with each step, turn, and movement. He could hear the incessant, unending beeping wherever he went. Of course… it wasn't unending. It had very abruptly and very importantly ended, once upon a time. Which led him to the next reason this day, every single year, was so unbearably shitty: the sweats. It felt like he was boiling alive on the surface of the sun and no matter what he did, no matter how he distracted himself, he always remembered why. Why he had to feel this way every year and how each torment served as a memento of that day.

Jason continued walking down the street in the vain hope to clear his head when he heard a voice.

"Yeeeeesh!" A boy said, "I think I can taste that."

As Jason turned, he noticed the boy, thin, no older than 16, with stark white hair, was staring directly at him. Staring at him and slowly walking closer.

"Hey there man," he started, "believe me when I say: I know today sucks. I don't know how badly or what exactly you're dealing with, but I know it's bad."

The teen was now standing right in front of him and yet Jason felt glued to the spot, like something was keeping him there and that the very idea of brushing off this boy and continuing on his horrid stroll would be an act of blasphemy. The boy reached out a hand and placed it gently on Jason's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. And to his utter shock, Jason didn't shrug it off. In fact, he liked it? For the briefest of moments the aches subsided, the heat receded long enough to feel the cool spring breeze, and the beeping faded into nothing. He could swear even the pits were calm. No wait, they weren't just calm; they were cooing? Pushing him to lean into the young man's touch.

"Mind if I join you?" The boy asked.

"Please…" Jason spoke, somewhere between a whisper and a prayer.

And they started back along the walkway. Jason couldn't help but feel like the world had stopped as they made their way through Crime Alley.

"You know," the stranger began, "there's nothing wrong with asking, 'GOD, why the fuck is this happening to me?'"

"Sure, you know WHY it's happening. But it seems pretty unfair, no? I mean, we go through this absolutely awful thing once, and then we have to deal with the shadows of it once every three-sixty-five for the rest of eternity? That's just brutal."

Jason knew he had trusted every word spoken to him so far, though he couldn't be sure why. But the small, rational voice in his head now confirmed exactly what the subject of their conversation was.

"Well the truth is," he continued "it's not some command by on high. No one made these rules. It's just how the universe operates. I've actually met quite a few others like us, but they didn't live on a rock rotating around a yellow star. One of them lived their whole life on a space station flying through eternity. And yet even they feel this once every so often."

"See, the thing is, humans operate on an annual time scale. We don't feel greatly connected to something that happened exactly 7 or 28 or 30 days ago. But three hundred and sixty five days… and six-ish hours puts us in basically the exact same spot in the universe. You can feel it, the same air blowing in your face, the same setting sun, even the same clothes you were wear-"

Jason collapsed. He felt the air ripped out of his lungs as he coughed and choked and desperately tried to restart his breathing. Everything hurt, everything was hot, and the GODDAMN BEEPING-

And then it was gone. The only thing he felt was a gentle hand rubbing circles into his back. He turned to look up at the… Spirit? God? "Boy" felt wrong now.

"Ope," he said with a look of concern, "so the clothes were a really important part. Starting to get a picture of what's going on here."

Jason gratefully received a second hand positioned on his chest as he was lifted back into a standing position. Then he turned back to his companion and urged him to continue with his eyes.

"Well," he started again, "basically, we live on a yearly timescale. We don't count months or decades nearly the same way. But that's just us, if we were turtles and the only big happening we saw was that every 23 years a squall split the bay we lived in, you and I would have much longer between our episodes. One of the ones I talked to said xey only experienced it once every 91 years when a certain comet makes its pass through the night sky on xeir planet."

"Anyway," he continued, "what I'm trying to say is that the universe is a fucked up place. But it has rules. Action-reaction and all that. So if you want, I can try and help you get through this as someone more familiar with those rules than you are."

"Please," Jason pleaded, "anything that'll help. I just, I just want it to be easier, I don't need it to be gone; I just want it to be bearable."

"Cool," he responded "glad we're operating on more reasonable expectations. But first things first, I'm gonna need to take a closer look at your core and it's not going to be a particularly comfortable experience. Is that okay?"

Jason nodded, though he wasn't quite sure what this being had meant by "core." He just couldn't help but trust it.

That trust felt slightly misplaced when a hand passed directly into his chest and the arm it was attached to shifted to several angles as if searching for something.

"Aha!" Came the exclamation as the hand retracted, now carrying a small red… was that a page? Like from a book?

"Well this looks cool," the being said, "jeez a bad boy with the heart of a poet. Jazz would have a field day. But let me see here… oh! A protection obsession, just like me. Put 'er there bud."

Jason felt a deep reverberation in his chest as he shook hands with the entity. But everything felt wrong, like his very being had been separated from him so quickly and quietly that he hadn't even noticed. It felt as though he might've gone on blissfully unaware if he hadn't seen the page come out of his chest. And then the world returned. The sounds of the city came to life and when Jason looked down, the page was gone and the hand that held it was pressed gently and flatly back against his chest. The spirit reached down to grab Jason's hand before turning to continue down the street. 

After a few minutes, they came to a stop at a park.

"Why are we here?" Asked Jason.

"Dunno," came the reply, "but look closely and I'm sure you'll find the reason."

Jason scanned the park. The homeless resting in the bushes, the trees full of green leaves, several families playing, an old man feeding pigeons, and another walking his dog. His eyes suddenly snapped back to the families. One family. The mother. A young woman with a long, thin scar along her cheek.

He remembered those eyes, that hair. The scar was a fresh gushing wound when he had last seen it, but he remembered that too.

"Her," Jason said, knowing the one beside him understood, "I saved her. Or helped. Back when I was- back before I was- Fuck. Was that a decade ago? Jesus she has a ki-oh man kids. Wait, is she my age? Shit, she seemed so little then."

"Someone you protected," came the voice, "someone for whom you risked your life. Someone who looks at those kids and thanks the universe for putting you on her path every single day."

Jason felt a lump forming in his throat.

"See," the boy started, "I think that's what people forget. Not just other people but us too. It's not about carrying someone through the pouring rain to a hospital. It's definitely not about the praise or detractors or even seeing someone pull through in the end. It's about this. It's about-"

"Seeing them get the chance to flourish," Jason finishes, "watching the world step on them over and over and being there to help them back on their feet the one time it would've been too much on their own. And then knowing they thrived in the end."

"It's hard," the spirit said, "to remember where we really sit in the grand scheme. It can feel like we haven't done anything or that no matter what we do, we'll never be more than one single moment. The reason today sucks every year is important. But it doesn't define who you are or what you'll do. Go visit Mr. Friedrichson at 2:03 today. One of his old tenants is gonna visit and I think you'll enjoy the reminder of why your home is a place worth fighting for, even in spite of the name. Talk to Jenny and Liu. They'll be on 5th Street tonight and they'll talk your ear off about all the good you've done and what it really means to bleed Crime Alley. And can I make one actual request, even if you don't do the other stuff?"

"Of course," Jason replied, "anything."

"Enjoy yourself," the voice spoke, fading as if it was getting farther away. "He's gonna come by as per usual, bearing gifts. But I'm begging you, forgive yourself, even if just for today, and try to enjoy some time with your brother."

"Hey Jason!" Came a call from his other side, "I've been looking all over for you. I got your favorite."

Dick lifted a large brown bag, undoubtedly from the greatest Chinese restaurant in the world… if you asked Jason that is. Jason couldn't help but let a soft smile creep across his face, before quickly hiding behind a groan and a hand pressed into his forehead.

"I can't get one day's peace from you can I?" Jason said as he closed the distance and took the bag.

"Uhh," Dick said, stunned by the more playful remark. "I… I thought you might want some company and I had a free-"

"Thank you Dick," Jason cut in, "I know you take this day off every year and I know you spend it mostly with me screaming and throwing things at you."

"It's not-" he began.

"But this year," Jason continued, "let's do something better."

He lifted the bag to his face and deeply inhaled the fragrant smell of nostalgia and stir fried vegetables.

"You even remembered my special instructions," Jason said, "come on. I know a few places we can go to enjoy this."

Oh boy that was long. Uhh, I hope Tumblr does the whole button to expand this automatically. I kinda only got halfway through what I was gonna say and then burnt out so we skipped Mr. Friedrichson's moment. Anyway have a good one y'all. Oh right, Danny says "bud" and "ope" because he's Midwestern just like me. I don't take criticism (on the Midwestern thing).

[babyleostuff]

౨ৎ voicemails kwon soonyoung leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: baby)

...one: you made me promise to call when we land, so (pause) we’re here. now go to bed and stop worrying. we’re all safe. have sweet dreams baby

...two: be honest. do you think mingyu has better boobs than me? wait. don’t answer. i don’t want to know. though i think i know the answer. i’m going to make his life a living hell

...three: did you get that video i sent you of me dancing? what do you think? did i do a good job? did you like it?

...four: i don’t think i’ve ever been this bored before. i hope you’re doing better than me because this is a nightmare. really wish you were here

...five: when we were out for a walk today, i saw two cats and one of them was hitting the other on the head and i immediately thought of us

...six: how are you baby? (pause) i’m starting to miss your voice

...seven: i’m sure you've told me this before, but will you be watching the livestream today? i don’t know why but it’s comforting knowing that you’ll be there. kind of. you know what i mean

...eight: i’m so hungry right now, i’ll eat the whole buffet when we get back to the hotel. wait, did you eat today? if not i’m ordering takeout to your house

...nine: i never realised how lonely i am without you in my arms

...ten: only a week left. i really miss you

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @asasilentreader @mrsnervous

[writing-havoc]

HII! HOW ARE YOU? Okay so i have a kaz brekker x reader request but it's kinda meh but i just can't stop thinking about it. And it's kinda similar to your fic 'high' (my favorite piece of media EVER)

So fem!reader (or gn whichever is easier for you<3) drunk and makes fun of the way kaz talks and his hair and the way how he's really bossy. (I would so call him emo king) and he's just trying to get her to take a bath (be a fish) and rest.

Please please don't feel pressured you can just ignore this. Don't forget to drink water. Have a nice day or night love youu<3

Loverboy

♡ Summary: Kaz comes and fetches you after you have a bit too much to drink. Getting you to bathe and rest for the night is a little more difficult than he remembers.

♡ Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): Alcohol, Nudity (not smut)

♡ WC: 3.5k

Hello hello!!! Thank you for your request <3 I'm doing pretty alright thank you for asking. I hope you're doing okay!

I loved being prompted to expand on this and experiment with how it would go. To be honest that's also one of my fav pieces of work that I've done, and I'm glad someone else holds the same joy for it that I do!

Anyway, here it is!! Hope you enjoy it anon, ly <3

Please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes

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"Oh for Ghezen's sake just put one foot in front of the other." Kaz nipped, pushing just a bit harder on your back.

Your head was lolling back and to the side, unwillingly looking at the stars. Yet your eyes remain half closed, barely a fraction of your pupil visible in the moonlight. A smile is painted on your face the whole time, lips chapped and cracked from dehydration. "'M tryin' Kaz. But my head is just, so heavy and the stars 're so pretty."

"I know I know- hold on to the cane- the cane!"

He shouldn't have let you have those last few drinks, but unfortunately you batted your little lashes and made the same little promises you do after enough time has passed for his memories to become just a little bit muddled and forget how far from the truth your promises are.

You'll say you'll be fine. You'll say you'll get home safe. You'll say you'll see him soon.

But you can't really fulfill any of those. So he at least has the foresight to stay with you, or to have someone else stay with you and come get him when you down more than your promised two or three.

And he makes a big deal out of it, saying all these things and talking like he's annoyed with you, but really?

He's not.

Not as much as he thinks he should be anyway. If he had heard anybody else complaining as much as he does in his own head he'd stuff his own glove in their mouth and tell them to deal with their inadequate relationship elsewhere.

But it's him, and it's you, and it's different.

You're not like them. You're not violent or a verbal tyrant or negligent.

"Did I ever tell you..." You start, then chuckle to yourself when you straighten up and sway around. "Did I ever tell you that kin'a remind me of a cat with your hair slicked back like that?"

You're,,, silly. And he feels silly saying that but you are. It's the perfect word to describe you when you get like this. Light jabs at the things you like about him, your feet walking to a rhythm in your head that makes you stop and go and speed and slow at random, laughing at the most mundane things.

"I don't believe you have, no." You definitely have. But he allows you to repeat it.

The Slat is wonderfully empty as he opens the door. Only a few people occupy the tables off to the side, but they're just as drunk as you are, and he doubts they can see this far from their drooling.

"Come on." He leads you over to the stairs. "Up we go."

You lean on the rail, shaking your head, smile gone. "Mh-mhn. I can't." You continue to shake your head, eyes closed. "Your leg is bad."

Silly.

"Good observation. Your legs, however, are fine, if a bit wobbly. Up you come." He tries again to coax you up, to no avail. You lean on the rail more, even pushing into it.

He forgot how much you resemble an ox when it comes to getting you to do something. It's like you contain this ability to just plant yourself anywhere and stick no matter the force that's pulling or pushing you.

"Your leg is bad. I can't go up."

"My bad leg does not effect your ability to walk up the stairs." He says as gentle as possible.

"But it does."

He sighs. "Could you explain to me why that is?"

Your bottom lip pushes out just barely, eyes opening and looking at him through your lashes. It's a look that would have any man in Kerch on their knees, he's sure of it. "Need your help."

His heart sunk. "Just grab the railing and my cane, dove. I'll take my good leg up first."

You analyzed the stairs, scrutinizing them. "Promise?"

"You know I don't make-"

"Promise?" A hint of anger bubbled in your tone, the same firmness in your eyes when you snapped your head to look at him.

He takes a deep breath. "I promise."

And just like that you were ready to ascend the stairs. You grabbed the railing, clumsily reaching out for his cane which he gave readily.

Even in your drunken state, you knew exactly which stairs creaked and which ones were just this side of broken. You skipped a stair, glaring at it as Kaz ascended with his good leg first, then continued with your usual lax expression.

He tried to step with his bad leg, but you immediately backtracked and held his cane firmly, holding him back as well. "You promised." You bit out.

"I did." He switched back, good leg going up, slowly edging you along. "It just slipped my mind."

"Nothin' slips your mind." You pouted, begrudgingly ascending when the cane went too far to hold close.

"Important things," he corrected. "Important things don't slip my mind."

You yanked on the cane, making him look at you. "You're important."

And he... doesn't know what to do with that.

Of course in whatever realm you were occupying he'd be important. He's important for a lot of things. His businesses, his club, whatever constitutes as leader of the crows.

It's not that he thinks he's not important. He just forgets to take into account that with you, he's important in the little things too.

Pointing him where to massage on his leg when it's giving him trouble, bringing him fresh tea when he tries to drink the day old stuff pushed to the corner of his desk, at least reminding him to sleep when the clock reaches two bells in the dark hours.

And right now, when you force him to take the pressure off his poorly healed shin.

"You're right." He confirms, helping you to the top of the stairs. "I am. Now come on."

When he began to lead you to his room, you groaned and stood in place. "Noo. I don' wanna fish."

His mouth struggled to stay in a line, corners quirking up. "You have to fish. You're sweaty and you smell like alcohol."

"I's a good smell."

"You gag in the morning when you smell it."

"Hogwash, you walking shadow."

He tugged you along, walking ahead of you and up the stairs to the attic. His help wasn't much needed here with how narrow and more secure the steps were, but you needed the extra hand to coax you up and towards your inevitable bath.

His office was dark, the only thing preventing the room from being cast in complete darkness was the street lights outside pushes a faint yellow glow through the window.

A lantern was stored in a bookcase next to the door for this reason. He clipped his cane onto his belt and hooked a finger under the handle, giving you little assurances that he wasn't going to let you fall while he navigated the room he knew by heart.

He parked you by his makeshift desk, guiding your hands to the desktop for some leverage while he rustled through a cabinet for the matches.

Immediately you were enthralled with the fire. Nina thinks you were an Inferni in your past life, and he finds the idea hard to not believe as he watches your once droopy eyes widen and follow the ball of fire in his hand as it lights the lantern.

He closes the shade, putting out the match and watching you smile as the whole room lights up.

"So bright." You whisper, as if it's your first time seeing fire.

He shrugs off his coat, throwing it over the back of his chair. "Very. Don't touch it."

You pout, taking your hand away. "I don't know what you're referring to."

He takes the lantern from where it rests on the desk, unhooking his cane and walking to the bathroom. "Come take your bath."

"'Come take your bath'." You mock him. "You're a bossy bossy man, you know that?"

He can't see you as he hangs the lantern on a hook, but he knows your hands are on your hips and your head cocked to the side. You always became so sassy when the initial fuzziness seems to wear off.

"It's what im paid for." He calls, swirling the basin of water he had filled up before he left. It was only expected that you should get a bath tonight, and he didn't want to wake anybody now of all times to come and fill it up.

"Youre not getting paid right now."

He didn't have any soap. He used up all of his last time and you usually keep yours tucked in your room, eager to hide its existence from greedy hands.

Just water will have to do, since he doesn't trust you to not fall asleep in the time it will take to go to your room and retrieve yours from your spare set of shoes.

He exits the bathroom, coming face to face with you. "I should be with how I'm ordering you around right now."

He waves you over, and it seems at this point you're becoming too tired to really fight back. You shrug off your outer layers, leaving them in a pile on the floor that you attempt to kick to the side. It's seems you think that you did away with them well enough, but really you just kind of spread them around.

That will have to come later, he thinks, and then puts a hand on your bare shoulder as you take off your shirt, throwing it over the side of the basin. Your pants come off and are thrown at its base, shoes somehow already off in the time span it took to check the tub and come retrieve you, socks following.

"You can keep your undergarments on if you'd like." He says, resting his cane against the wall.

"Oh don't get shy on me now, Kaz. You've seen me naked at least a dozen times." You look back at him, a shit eating smirk on your face.

He's thankful for the warm lantern light to obscure the warmth creeping up his neck and nipping at his ears. "Only because we end up in situations like these. It's more efficient to just get you clean now than have you complain in the morning and almost throw up in the tub."

You moan, the sound throaty and like gravel. "I don't wanna be a fish."

"You dont have to be one for long. Just a few minutes until you're clean."

"Can' be clean if there's no soap."

"We can at least get most of the grime off. Come on, one leg over the other."

Slowly, you climb into the tub, Kaz helping you get in with minimal sloshing.

And now comes the hard part.

His gloves are made of leather. He can't dunk and soak them in the water and expect them to be fine later.

They come off quicker than last time, but just as shakey. He puts on two pairs of cloth ones he's kept in here since the third time this happened, when it became apparent that this would happen again and several more times after.

Once they're on he flexes his hand, feeling the cold unforgiving waves slosh at his knees and lick up his thighs.

It's not the same. It's a bath. It's you.

"Can you get your body?" He asks, though. Because as much as he'd like to be of some help here he can't help but need to touch you the least amount as possible.

You think it over, stretching out as much as the tub allows before nodding. "M'yeah, I can do it."

He hands you a rag, watching it sink under the water and become several shades darker.

He turns around and allows you to do your thing, but knows your routine from when you, Nina, and Jesper had a heated debate about which order to wash your body in.

You'll wash your neck and chest first, digging into your collars bones and over your shoulders, then do you arms, followed by your torso and around your back. Then you'll scrub at your legs, moving to your face, then your waist, then your feet.

It'll take about ten minutes to go over every part, scrubbing in places you think have the most grime, and all the while having your shampoo already scrubbed into your hair so that you can rinse everything out all at once.

But you're tired and drunk, and he doesn't know how far you'll make it down your list until you eventually get frustrated or too exhausted or both.

He listens to the water in the tub move as your scrub yourself beneath its surface. A throaty hum emanates from your throat, a tune oddly familiar to the song that plays in the club filling the room.

Every once in a while you'll sigh, the water halting. He'll lean back and ask if you're alright, and you'll hum and get right back to scrubbing.

It's fifteen minutes before you say anything.

"You alright t' do my hair?"

His stomach churns, acid bubbling at its entrance.

"Ill be fine."

He turns, gesturing with his finger for you to lean your head into the water.

There's a pause before he reaches into the cold depths, wondering if he actually /will/ be fine.

When you look at him, eyes rimmed in red and glassy, he scrounges up whatever stability and modicum of the word "cope" he has and dunks them in.

Immediately he finds your hair, burying his fingers between the strands and finding your scalp.

It's hard to feel anything besides temperature with these gloves, and your head is practically burning against the cool water.

You're definitely cold. He can tell by your flushed cheeks and the way you curl your arms around your waist, goosebumps littering your arms. Yet you remain warm under his touch.

He watches the little hairs on your arm wave in the bath current as he scrubs, almost hypnotizing in their back and forth movement as you move to let them rest against your thighs.

But it's not enough.

He's scrubbing your hair, trying so hard to just focus on the grime under his fingers as his hands make the cold water slosh. The feeling is oddly familiar to the waves coating his hands as they dunk half under as he clings to blue flesh.

But you look at him, and your giggle is like little bells that keep him above water, just for the moment.

"You know what you look like?" You ask. "You look like- oh, what's that new style they got goin' on?"

He has no idea what you're talking about. Fashion trends are far beneath his radar unless necessary for a job.

You snap your fingers, pointing up at him. "Emo!"

That makes his eyebrows raise. Because he is familiar with Emo, because a bunch of kids called him that when they were out much past their bedtime. They found it necessary to shout it at him while he was passing by, laughing as they ran into an alleyway.

"I don't think that's accurate." He manages to get out, dunking your head a little further to cover your ears and get the wisps of hair in front of them.

"It's sooo accurate." You draw out your o's, blinking slowly and out of sync. "Emo king."

He sighs. "Whatever you say, little fish."

You pout, moving away from him and turning belly down, chin dipping into the water. "I thought I was your dove."

Again, thankful for that warm light. It makes his stomach feel all twisty the way you say "your". For just a moment, he let's himself smile, really smile, and puts his chin on his hands. "You are. But right now, you're a fish."

You huff, turning back and putting your head within reach. "Okay, mister emo cat."

He sighs, beginning to scrub at the parts of your scalp that he already got but feels he needs to do another once over for. "I am neither emo nor a cat."

"Tell that to your hair, loverboy."

Loverboy.

He scoffs, taking his hands from your hair. "Your hair's done. Get out so you can dry off."

You laugh at your accomplishment, sitting up and scrunching your hair as he discards his wet gloves on a towel rack and dries himself off.

Honestly, loverboy? He's not some lovesick puppy. Loverboy applies to those who are unfathomably whipped, wrapped around their partners finger and touching at all times. It has no place being in the same sentence that his likeness occupies except to say that he is not a 'loverboy'.

He hands you a towel as you get out of the tub, heading to his closet to fetch you some of his clothes.

"An old one, please?" You yell out to him.

"I know." He calls back.

If he can help it he replaces his button ups every few months. But you like the ones that are just around that area of wear and tear. In your words, they "ain't tight and smell like him. Win win."

He doesn't bother with pants, but grabs a pair of his underwear for you to change into instead that he knows you'll find more comfortable.

As he limps back to the bathroom, he halts as he analyzes his thoughts and actions.

Fuck. Maybe he /does/ deserve the name Loverboy.

The realization almost makes him groan and sit down on the floor right then and there.

Can't he just carve his heart out? Isn't that what the poets and song writers do?

Alas, he is neither a poet nor a musician. So he will instead take the long way out, and bring you his clothes and get you into into his bed before the third bell chimes.

He hands you the clothes, watching your face light up for a moment before he exits to his office to clean up the mess you made.

The beak of his cane hooks under your coat, dragging it up and into his hand which he then throws onto the chair. You hate getting it off the coat rack, half the time pulling it with you when you take your coat back. So he sets it here for now, and takes your shoulder bag and shoes and organizes them around the chair just as you usually do.

"I think I found my new look."

He turns around, seeing you trying to pose against the wall. It's supposed to be sultry and sexy, but it definitely does not read that way with your soaked hair, stiff back, and uncooperative limbs.

"If you think so." He nearly chuckles, taking his gloves from your hands and slipping them onto his own, and then retrieves the lantern from the bathroom. "Come to bed."

Thankfully, you seem to love the idea of the bed. It doesn't take much to lead you to the little nook he calls his bedroom. He hooks the lantern to the wall as your body slumps onto his partially eaten sheets.

"Mmm." You hum, smile hidden under your squashed cheek. "Warm."

"Doubtful." He jabs, unfolding a blanket at the foot of the bed and draping it over you.

"It really is. Should try it sometime." You poke at the space beneath your eye, tongue sticking out.

He assumes you're referencing the eye bags that have taken permanent residence on his face, to which he rolls his eyes and hikes up the blanket to cover your back. You hate the cold creeping in.

If you wake up cold in the morning, you will be cold for the rest of the day. And unfortunately for you, you have a job in about six hours.

The less you have to complain about, the better.

"Ill try it later." He promises. "For now, you need it more."

You mumble something, but with the way your eyes are drooping he figures you're not even aware you said anything at all.

As you doze off, he half sits on his nightstand, and watches your breathing begin to slow and even out. It's loud at first, but eventually you grow quieter and quieter, muscles relaxing as you sink into his hard mattress.

Your hair is thrown about everywhere, still wet from your bath, and you'll need Nina to remove a kink in your shoulder in the morning. But for now, you're calm, and safe, and that's enough.

He takes a deep breath, just the same as you do, and then sighs.

"Goodnight, little fish." He mumbles, and then stands, off to collect the ingredients for a hangover tonic and catch up on paperwork.

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