#you relieved the grief but you still had to go through it

[leascorner]

b.b. | Emergency contact

Summary: “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”

Pairing:  Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, mention of multiple accidents, mention of break-up, probably inexact medical and american army facts, deaths, grief, mention of trauma/PTSD, mention of food

Word Count: 4.7k

Author note: y/n = your name; y/s/n = your sister's name. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Maverick saw her first.

Hair all over her face. Cloudy eyes. Blank cheeks. Y/N looked even worse than what he had thought and considering the situation, that was perhaps to be expected. He could only imagine the call she had gotten when maybe she was on her way home after work. The kind of call that just say, “your loved one is at the hospital”. They could be dead already. They could be alive for now, but dead before she’d make it there…

Maverick did not know her personally. He knew, however, who she was and who she had been to Bradley. He had heard what had happened at that time; even if his godson had not gone into much details - he wasn’t exactly one to confide about his love life. Being aware of her story, he felt like this moment would be exactly like any of his own PTSD - reliving your worst nightmare. He had known from the moment the nurse had told him he was not family - Y/N was - that whenever she would show up, he needed to be there for her.

Getting up from the seat in which he had been waiting for some times now, he called out her name. Her eyes scanned the whole room before landing on him. She had never seen him other than in Bradley’s old photobooks, but she recognized him immediately. Though Maverick was now a couple of years older, he looked as in the pictures. It relieved her to see him there; it was partly because he did not look like someone who was going to have to bury his godson any time soon. Of course, it also startled her. The last time she had talked to Bradley, many (many) years ago, his resentment against Maverick was consuming him. She guessed they had finally worked things out.

“We were testing new materials,” Maverick explained as he sat her up in the seat next to his. Though her cheeks were slowly regaining colour, she was still trembling like the leaves of a tree caught in the wind. Perhaps it was being in this ER room again, in the exact same hospital, after all this time. Perhaps it was also the adrenaline wearing off. “Bradley’s jet had an issue and he had to extract. He landed quite roughly though. His left leg is pretty messed up.”

Y/N stayed silent, staring at him, and Maverick let her be. Of course, she had imagined him to be dead. Though she had just heard the contrary, her brain took a couple of seconds to work everything out. “So, he will be alright?”

He nodded slowly and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was selfishly relieved. She wouldn’t have to decide on the last clothes he would wear. She wouldn’t have to be handed his flag and colors. She wouldn’t have to watch his coffin buried six feet deep. She wouldn’t have to read over and over that stupid phrase written in the marble of this grave. She wouldn’t have to get through this again.

She had done that too much for her own lifetime already.

“Doctor, this is Miss Y/L/N”.

Maverick’s hand on her shoulder made Y/N surface out of her thoughts. She was quick to hop onto her feet and greet the surgeon that had just joined them with a nod. She braced herself for whatever news he had to give - couldn’t be that bad, Bradley was alive after all - and when it didn’t come, she presumed from his look that he was silently waiting for Maverick to go. She understood now that she was the only one listed as his emergency contact.

“He can stay, he is family.”

The surgeon nodded and started to explain in a more complex manner what Maverick had already told her before. Bradley would be immobilised for a couple of weeks, waiting for the bruise in his knee to resolve before he could undergo surgery. After that he would still need to have Physical Therapy before being cleared.

“How long until- how long ‘till he can go back to flying?” Y/N asked, nervously.

“A few months, six at most.” At her side, it was Maverick’s time to let out a shaky breath. He already knew it was going to be difficult to keep Bradley off the tarmac for this long. “He is awake now, if you want to visit.”

After they thanked him, Y/N heard Maverick turning to her - only a few seconds away to say what she assumed to be a “you go first” - and she stayed frozen on her spot, not able to make a move as she finally understood she could be seeing Bradley again – it had never crossed her mind before. There was no way she was facing a very much alive Bradley today. Not today, nor any time soon.

“You go, I’ll handle the paperwork.”

Maverick knew better than to say a thing; he only nodded, thanking her quietly. He knew she would most likely be gone when he would be back. He didn’t blame her though.

This was just a tragic story.

Bradley saw her first.

He had been at the beach near Penny’s bar probably a thousand times since he last spoke to her, all these years ago. Yet, never had he seen her there.

Watching her, sat on an enormous beach towel, watching Henry - or at least he guessed it was Henry - playing in the sand a few feet away, he could only feel guilty for what he had put her through a month ago. The call from the military hospital, the minimal information given, the drive alone, fear clenching her stomach, the parking lot where she could’ve vomited her gut out, the hospital smell. It must have been like reliving her worst nightmare. Except this time there was no tragic ending...

He had changed his emergency contact as soon as the painkiller had permitted him to think straight. To be honest, after all those years, he had forgotten she was even mentioned in his file. They had never been married and therefore had never been officially together for the Navy. He really thought no one was his emergency contact; it only felt natural having no family of his own. No parent. No wife. No kid. Now, he only had his godfather - they had reconnected a couple of years ago.

He was only relieved this had happened when Maverick was here, that someone was able to be by her side and that this time, she didn’t have to live it all alone.

Though he wanted to, Bradley did not go and apologize. He imposed so much on her already. Breaking her heart. Letting her go. Probably scaring the hell out of her. No, he definitely had done enough already.

He was mentally wishing her all the best from afar, ready to turn back to the bar, when the little boy at her side made his heart stopped. One of his tiny fingers was pointing in his direction and it took only what seemed to be a second for Y/N to turn around as well, her eyes landing on him. Against all odds, she waved shyly in his direction, which made Henry - who he had only met when he was still a couple of days old - waved at him as well.

Awkwardly, Bradley waved back and decided that at this point, he couldn’t just turn around and leave. The walk to their spot was pure torture with his messed-up knee for which he had yet to undergo surgery.

“You are the guy in the wedding picture in the hallway,” Henry said once Bradley was to their level. Bradley frowned, not sure what to answer to this. Of course, he understood he was talking about Y/S/N’s wedding, though he didn’t quite understand how this little guy would have recognized him in the hundred guests that must appear on the pictures.

“There is a picture in the hallway,” Y/N simply answered, before explaining to Henry that the polite way to greet someone was to say hello first.

Bradley only nodded, preferring to stay silent as he wasn’t really sure what to say now that he was there.

“How is your knee?”

“Well, could be better, I guess?” Bradley shrugged and Y/N nodded, a serious expression on her face. He hadn’t been in the best of mood due to his injury, and he realized too late this tone wasn’t the friendliest. To make sure she didn’t take it personally, he was quick to continue: “I wanted to say-”

“It’s okay,” She cut him off; she couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, yet she wanted to spare them both the struggle of his thanks. She hadn’t done him a favour running to his side at the first call. In fact, she hadn’t really thought anything, coming running blindly to the hospital as the nurse on the phone told her he had an accident. Maybe it was selfish of her, maybe this time she had thought she could save someone she knew.

“No, I don’t think it really is…” He sighed. “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”

“Thanks.”

Some more silence.

Bradley’s hands had become even sweatier, and it wasn’t due to the weather of the first days of spring. This whole situation was literally making him so uncomfortable. It was like walking on eggshell; he didn’t want to break her even more.

“I very am sorry.”

Bradley wasn’t sure what he was really sorry for. This wasn’t just for the scare, last month. It was also for breaking her heart, leaving her the second he had his dream job - like they couldn’t have made it work, not being around when Y/S/N and her husband died in that horrible car crash, him only sending flowers for the funerals, him not calling to make sure Y/N was surviving - how could he have, when he was the one leaving her to live his dream life and she was now the legal guardian of her six-months-old nephew at thirty something.

Y/N only stared at him, trying to see through him like she used to. He was sincere - she knew that much.

“I know.”

It had been a little more than three months when Bradley saw her again.

He had just completed yet another session of physical therapy; though it had been ten weeks since he had surgery and he didn’t need crutches to walk any longer, he still had not recovered the totally of his knee motion. Maverick was driving him twice a week to the military hospital to have PT; with his messed up left knee, Bradley couldn’t drive his manual Bronco.

While he was patiently waiting for the secretary to hung up the phone to get his next appointment scheduled, his eyes landed on a familiar face in the ER waiting room. She was here yet again, eyes puffy and red, breathe short and hair all over the place.

“Y/N?”

Hearing her name, she jumped from her seat, all senses on alert. Her eyes scanned the room urgently before stopping on Bradley. Understanding it was him calling her name, the tears she was holding back started flowing on her cheeks again. His heart started to pound furiously in his chest as the only thought that passed his mind was that something terrible had happened. Again.

“Hey, hey,” he said once he had walked - not so easily - to her. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his white T-shirt. She was grabbing him as if he was a lifebuoy. “What happened?”

As her only answer, her body broke into violent sobs. Bradley kept her close, stroking her hair gently, trying to soothe. It took what seemed to be like a couple of minutes for her to at least remember to breath and a couple more for her to be able to speak multiple words in a row. This time, Bradley held her through it all.

“Henry fell down the swing and the school called and- and-” Some more sobs rocked her body and Bradley only held her tighter, heart swelling of seeing her in this state. She must have had the scare of her life. Again.

“It’s okay,” Bradley reassured her. “Is he with a doctor now?”

She nodded, more tears falling down her cheeks. “He has a bad cut on his forehead,” sob, “needed stitches,” sob, “I couldn’t - I couldn’t” stay with him, Bradley understood even if she didn’t finish her sentence. “Shouldn’t see me like that.”

“It’s okay.”

Y/N was still grabbing his T-shirt like she would drown had she ever let go, so he held her a little more, wondering how long she had been in the ER waiting room, clearly in utter panic.

“Breathe with me,” he said. She looked up at him and gently, he dried off her tears. For one split second, he was brought back to that night, what felt like a hundred of years ago. He had promised her everything would be okay. How wrong had he been…

If anything, this was a very bad remake of their break-up.

“He is okay now, more fear than harm.” Y/N nodded, trying to gain back her composure. “You know, somebody told me one day that scars actually made you look pretty badass,” he pointed to his own scars on his chin and cheeks. “It will be a hit with girls and boys for sure.”

“I don’t remember saying that,” she finally smiled. There she is, he thought.

“Miss Y/L/N?” Y/N let go of him to turn to the doctor he understood was taking care of Henry. “We are all done. A nurse is doing his bandage right now. It will need to be redone once a day for a week and we’ll see him again in ten days to remove his stitches.”

Y/N squeezed the hand Bradley didn’t realize she was holding. She was relieved and still, she did not move when the doctor went away.

“You’ve got an automatic, right?” This made Y/N turned back to Bradley in surprise. He had that small smirk on his lips that she could recognize anywhere. The one that he offered when he had a surprise for her. Whatever it was a bath after an extremely long day or to watch Love Actually for the second night in a row when she was on her period. All she had to do back then was to follow his lead, she knew he would take care of her. The truth was, she would have followed him anywhere.

And even after all those years, she still trusted him.

“You do the paperwork, I’ll get him?” Y/N nodded slightly, muttering a quiet thank you. After yet another nod to make sure she was okay, Bradley finally let go of her hand and went to get Henry. On his way, he texted Mav to let him know he did not require a lift up from the hospital anymore. Something had come up, but he’ll explain later.

When Bradley entered the examination room, Henry was sat down on the examination table and a nurse was just finishing to put the last blaster on his forehead.

“Hey buddy!” Henry’s eyes face lifted up seeing Bradley on the doorstep, unfazed it was him rather than her aunt who went to get him. “A little birdie told me ice-cream would make it all better.”

“Bradley!”

Against all will, the ice-cream little “date” had become a recurrent event now. It started ten days later when Henry had his stitches gotten taken out - Y/N asked if she could pick him up after PT to return him the favour. Then, it was a week or so later, for the end of the school year. Then again, on regular occurrence during the summer - sometimes with their friends and family. Some other times, just the three of them.

Today was the first day of the new school year, Henry’s first day of 1st grade. It also was six months now that Bradley had been in contact again with Y/N. Still a couple of weeks until he could get cleared for flying again. A couple of weeks until he would be deployed somewhere on this planet.

And Bradley, picking up Henry from school with ice-cream for celebration, wasn’t really sure how to feel about it; he had decided to elude the matter for now.

“Hey buddy!”

Bradley watched the little guy through his reversing mirror to make sure he was putting his seatbelt on before driving off. He and Y/N had planned to meet up at the beach, once she would have finished work.

On the way there, Henry told him all about Mrs Simpson, his new teacher; how he got lucky to be paired with his best friend, Tom in the class room, and how sure he was that, by Christmas, he would be able to read so they could share reading of his bedtime stories: “You’ll read Daddy Pig’ part and I’ll read Peppa Pig’ part, okay?”

Yes, after all, Bradley definitively did not want to think of his future deployment; he would rather just stay here, in this moment in times.

After taking a swim and perfecting Henry’s swimming techniques (Bradley had taught him how to swim during the summer in between two ice-cream dates), Bradley and Henry were in the middle of sandcastles building contest when Y/N finally arrived.

Bradley sat on the beach towel, Y/N at his side, as Henry excitingly told them about his day and most importantly, all the painting materials they had in his class and that he couldn’t wait to test. The sun was starting to decline in the distance, bathing them in its last warm sunshine. A soft breeze was tenderly blowing his hair. Y/N, with Henry on her knees, was sharing a story of her sister’s first day of ‘big girl’ school and her nephew had a million questions about his mom.

Like every time the subject was brought up in his presence, Bradley tried to add as much details as he remembered of Y/S/N. It was some of his best childhood memories after his dad died: Maverick and his mom making sure his dad’s memory was still alive. He hoped it would be the same for Henry.

“You know what our family tradition was to celebrate the first day of school year?” Henry shook his head no. “Pizza night!”

Bradley laughed as the boy’s face lighted up; he was quick to be on his feet and gather his stuff to get back to the car - it was probably the first time ever Henry would agree to leave the beach without making a fuss.

Y/N helped Bradley to get up - even if he had told her multiple times before that his knee was perfectly fine, she had still treated him as if he would fall down any time. He was attending his last physical therapy sessions by now and he had already started physical training at the base. In a few weeks, he would have to have a medical examination to confirm he could fly again; his accident was well behind him at this point.

Folding the beach towel together, Y/N took this as the opportunity to thank him again for picking up Henry that day.

“My pleasure,” Bradley had assured her.

“Seriously, I owe you big time. I couldn’t see myself putting him in afterschool for his first day.”

For a split second, Bradley saw on her face an expression he knew by heart but couldn’t quite recall what it was; the next second, she was continuing to file her bag with Henry’s beach toys. It took a moment more to Bradley to understand what he had just seen: guilt. The same guilt he had observed in his mom eyes when there were things he asked, and she couldn’t simply offer him as a single mom.

“I don’t know if you are being told that enough but Y/N,” He gently grabbed her wrist to make her stop filling her bag and look back at him. “You are doing more than good with Henry.”

“I am trying my best.”

“And you are doing good,” he assured her again, squeezing her hand in his. Realizing what he had just done, he grimaced slightly but Y/N was quick to reassure him and squeezing his hand in return. “Let’s go.”

Later that afternoon, they were sat down at Pizzeria Luigi, waiting for their pizza. Bradley and Henry were having a funny face contest - Bradley copiously winning despite all the kid’s efforts. Y/N was laughing along with them, the small intimacy moment they shared before was long forgotten.

“That’s a cute family you got there,” the waitress smiled as she put their pizza on the table.

“Oh, we are not-” Bradley started, but was quick to be cut by Y/N saying:

“Thanks!”

While Y/N exchanged a few more banalities with the waitress, Bradley looked at her, utterly touched she would consider him family. He was incredibly lucky she even accepted him in his life again, after how much he had hurt her. On the restaurant terrace, surrounded by the last rays of the summer sun, she looked so happy. When she looked at him with her big sparkly eyes and the biggest smile on her lips, his own heart swelled of happiness.

And he swore he could have kissed her. Right here, right now.

“Henry, can you go wash your hands please? Dinner is almost-” Y/N passed a head through the kitchen door framing, looking what Henry was doing in the entrance corridor. “Bradley?”

“Hi,” he greeted her quietly from the doorstep, Henry by his side the doorknob still in his hand.

Bradley stayed silent, not moving, and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Y/N’s. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come over - he was more and more these past weeks, but he was usually texting first to confirm he wasn’t imposing on them. Him showing up unannounced, at that time of the night, was odd.

“Your hands, please.” The kid passed in front of her on his way to the bathroom and Y/N waited for him to be gone before turning back to Bradley.

He was looking at a picture hooked up on the hall wall. The picture of his sister’s wedding on which her sister, her husband, Bradley and she were all smiling. It has been taken a few weeks before he was accepted into the academy. A few months before her whole world crashed down. He had walked by a multitude of times before, yet today he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Bradley?”

Bradley’s attention finally went back to her, a look on his face Y/N couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t the apologetic look he had worn when he broke up with her. It wasn’t the mask of fury she had seen on his face when he had explained to her one night that his US Naval Academy application had been rejected, by Mav out of all people. It wasn’t either the naturally serious face he would most often wear, nor the sly smirk she had seen on his lips so many times.

His stare was even darker than usual and heavy on her. She couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to say if he wasn’t using words. One thing she had learned with Bradley was to not rush him and let him come to her.

“We were about to eat, mind to join us?” She asked instead of the millions of questions in her head.

He only nodded, not speaking a word. Y/N took another look at him before heading back to the kitchen.

They stayed silent for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, waiting for Henry to come back from the bathroom. Knowing the kid, with the times he was taking, he was probably making a mess with the soap in there, but none of them went checking on him.

Y/N was watching the vegetables cooking and Bradley was leaned against the kitchen sink unit, deeply in his thoughts, arms crossed over the short-sleeve shirt he still wore even if it was already late October.

“I’ve been cleared.”

Y/N was surprised by the tone of his voice - if there was only one thing for which Bradley was living, it would be flying. “Is that… a bad thing?”

Bradley sighed, passing a hand on his face. He had only received the news about an hour ago and the first thing he had done was to drive to Y/N’s place. He had tried so hard not to think about this moment and what he would do - as if he had any other option than just to follow the orders. Now that the moment had come, it didn’t feel right with him.

“I-” another sigh, “these last months, I just realized what I could have had if-”

If he hadn’t felt like he had to do it on his own.

If he hadn’t been too scared of hurting her.

All those moments he shared with Y/N and Henry over the last few months had made him realized that his own fear - of hurting the people he loved and especially leaving them behind - had prevented him to live some beautiful moments. He had self-sabotaged himself, breaking off with Y/N so he could be sure she wasn’t hurt by his choices - ironically enough. He had shut her off, convincing himself somehow that he was doing the right thing for the both of them - and how wrong had he been, those last few months had proven him.

“Do you remember what you told me when you broke up with me?” Y/N asked suddenly, making Bradley look back at her. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had said besides ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’. When he thought about that night, he could only remember her tears, her hands grabbing his shirt and not wanting to let go of him. She had fought for them, so hard, but he had already made up his mind.

He shook his head no as Y/N moved closer.

"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can come together,” Y/N reeled out quietly as if she had re-lived this scene over and over again in her head.

Bradley laughed bitterly, “I overdid myself on that one, didn’t I.”

Y/N wasn’t laughing. She was staring at him, this determined look on her face. Like she had waited for this moment for a while now. “I do think that is true, somehow,” Y/N smiled softly.

She had thought about this a lot over the last few weeks - it wasn’t just only her now, she was also responsible for Henry. It wasn’t her intention falling back in love with him, after Bradley got back in her life. She had been pleased to find in him a friend, a friend that had rekindled a flame inside her with his sly grin and attention. She felt more alive than ever. He made her feel so… whole.

Heart pounding, Bradley watched her intensely. There were unspoken words in the air, words neither of them wanted to stay out loud, too afraid it would break the spell. He knew looking at her now that they were on the same page. He knew he could let go of his fear; whatever life had in store for them would always be worth it.

They could have stayed like this forever. But Y/N couldn’t let her chance pass.

Without warning, she kissed him. If he hadn’t been leaned against the unit, Bradley would have fallen backwards from the feeling of her lips on his, how his hands found her hips by instinct to bring her closer to him, and how he could feel the warmth radiating off her. It was like in his best memories, and just like it had always have been: two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.

“What does that mean?” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers. He needed her to say it.

“That, perhaps, you could add me back as your emergency contact?”

[crxss01]

— Never Felt So Low

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ you see miles a month after his dad's funeral.

warnings ✧˖ ° angst, comfort, sad miles, grief, mentions death (obvi), sad tía morales.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ mija: dear, bonito: handsome/pretty boy. princesa: princess, gracias, muñeca: thanks, doll.

miles had been distant ever since his dad died, you completely understood him (in a way) and the fact that he wanted to be there for his mother. but you also wanted to be there for him, to be able to give him the comfort that he needed.

since he had made no attempts to contact you, you decided that you were just going to his house with no invitation. you would not only fail yourself if you didn't go but you would also fail him because right now he needs all of the support that he can get.

knocking on the door, you waited until it was answered by rio morales, who you liked to refer to as tía morales. the woman looked a mess, which was understandable, her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark bags under them, her nose was red, her hands were shaking and her bottom lip was quivering.

"ohh... tía morales." you walked in, pulling the older woman into a hug.

she held you close and tightly, not tight enough to the point that it was uncomfortable but to the point where you felt the pressure, tía morales did not start to cry instead choosing to just enjoy the comfort you were offering.

you let her hug you for however long she wanted. a couple of seconds or minutes later, you lost track of time, she started to pull away slowly.

"i missed you, mija." she told you, her hands cupping your cheeks and her thumb gently caressing one of them.

"i missed you too, tía." and it was true, the woman was pretty much a mother figure to you.

"go check on our boy, i'm starting to get so worried about him." she shook her head, holding back tears. "he's been suppressing his emotions."

you nodded. "alright, i'll try to help him."

tía morales pointed at his bedroom and you walked to the door, stopping right in front of it and lifting your arm to knock.

“ma, i already told you that i don’t wanna eat anything right now.”

“it’s me, bonito.” you called out softly. “can i come in?”

there was a minute of silence and you were scared that he was about to tell you to leave when he finally spoke. “yes, come in.”

so you did. the moment you saw him sitting down on his bed, head thrown back and staring at the ceiling you felt relieved to see that he was at least looking healthy so far.

“miles…”

your previous thought changed when he turned his head to look at you and your heart broke this time. he looked pale and so tired, you wanted nothing more than to bring back the rich color of his skin and to make the happy look return to his tired eyes.

“hey..” he said with no emotion whatsoever, even his voice had a rough edge to it that you didn’t notice while you were outside his door.

“hey, bonito.” you walked closer to him and sat beside him on the bed, taking his hand in yours.

“i’m sorry, it’s been a while.” he apologized. “i made you feel alone.”

“don’t apologize, i understand.” you shook your head. “but now i want to be here for you and i think it was the other way around, i wasn’t there for you and made you feel like you only had your uncle and mom.”

“i knew i had you too, princesa. i just didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“miles, i don’t care about your appearance as long as you look healthy, you know that. you are going through a tough time right now and i want to be here for you.”

miles laid his forehead on yours. “gracias, muñeca.”

“can i stay here with you?” you asked, wanting to spend the night with him in your arms but still not wanting to intrude. it was good enough that he didn’t argue with you about you being in his home, yet you even were willing to spend the whole week with him if it would bring back the tiniest spark back to his eyes.

“yes, you can.” he nodded, raising one hand and softly stroking your cheek with his thumb just like his mother did.

after what seem like hours in the same position, his face had lost part of the tension on it, a calm expression replacing it and it made you feel a little better that you had that effect on him.

“here, mi niño.” tía morales had walked in and was passing two plates of food to you and miles.

“ma, i already—”

“thank you, tía.” you took both plates from her. “we’ll both eat it.”

the woman nodded, a smile on her face before she left the room, closing the door and leaving a 4inch gap.

you turned to miles and put one plate down on his bed and focused on one. lifting a spoonful you blew on the rice and chicken on it before directing the spoon to miles’s lips.

“say ahh.” you told him.

miles looked at you for a second before rolling his eyes and opening his mouth. “ahh.”

you put the spoon inside his mouth, and he gladly chewed the food when you took the spoon out.

grabbing food from the plate on the bed you also ate and closed your eyes at the taste of tía morales’ delicious cooking.

after miles swallowed his mouthful, you took another spoonful from the plate on your hand and lifted the spoon to his lips.

miles once again looked at you for a second but instead of rolling his eyes, he smiled showing the dimples that you loved so much.

his smile was contagious and you couldn’t help but smile as well while you led the spoon inside his mouth.

after you both finished eating you took the plates out to the kitchen and washed them before going back to miles’ room and changing into one of his shirts and shorts then laying next to him on his bed.

“i missed you so much, beautiful girl.” miles said, hugging you close. his head on your chest.

“and i missed you too.” you said truthfully.

miles nodded into your chest and you both stayed quiet for a few minutes. when you felt little droplets of tears falling onto the shirt you were wearing, you didn’t say anything. already knowing how sensitive miles was and how he preferred to cry in silence unless he spoke first.

your hand started going up and down his back, letting him know you were there and he got the message because he hugged you more tightly and sobs were coming out of his throat.

“i just miss him.” he finally spoke, his voice breaking.

this was your queue that you could speak now. “i know, bonito, i know.” you told him. “let it all out.”

“it hurts so much.” more tears started coming out of his eyes.

you needed to use all the strength in you in order to not start crying right then and there along with him instead focusing on being as comforting to him as you could, whispering sweet nothings to him and pulling him close to you.

the night went on like this and you made sure that miles was asleep before you allowed yourself to fall under exhaustion control and also fall asleep.

taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho @laylasbunbunny @onginlove @all444miles @fiannee @sp1dercunt @milesandcorysupermacy @loonalockley @miguelslefteyebrow @dxille (if you asked to be added to the taglist and you’re not on here is because your @ didn’t appear!)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

[candyhartes]

sweet nothing

s: you & sanji share an intimate moment after skypiea

cw: none; fluff

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

the tiny bathroom was designed to hold no more than more person yet sanji sat on the sink counter using it as his personal ash tray with you standing directly between his legs where he comfortably rests his thighs against your hips, one hand lazily gripping your waist. a slightly battered cigarette laying between his chapped and scabbed lips, using his free hand to occasionally hold his cigarette.

the sound of the strong waves crashing against the going merry, the creaking caused by the wood shifting against each other and the buzzing from the small lamp above sanji’s head is heard inside the quiet room. nami had stated that the strong winds and rain were nothing to be alarmed of, however even in the grand line nothing was for certain so she volunteered for first watch in case things got too unsettling.

sanji’s shirt thrown across the closed toilet seat with his chest exposed fully covered in bandages as you begin to carefully remove them. your fingers delicately sliding across his back and careful not to disturb the burns that litter his skin. anytime you accidentally graze them sanji tenses and uses it as an opportunity to take a hit from his cigarette, masking his pain through sharp inhales as a way to distract you from his pain he’d hate to see his lover worry over his own mistakes.

the balm chopper made is to be applied twice a day so the burns won’t scar and relieve him of any lingering pain. you scoop some in your hand, glancing up at sanji with an apologetic expression, “i’m sorry, this might sting a little.”

“it’s nothing i can’t handle,” he smiles softly giving your waist a squeeze of reassurance. the second your hand meets his chest he’s quick to bring the cigarette back to his lips inhaling sharply. you look back at him feeling incredibly useless but he’s looking away from you, his eyes flickering from the door to the wall before he exhales the smoke above your head so you aren’t breathing it in.

you return your gaze to his chest finding choppers balm amazing as it’s been slowly causing his burns to disappear. you smile to yourself before remembering just exactly how he got in this situation. eneru mercilessly striking both usopp and sanji more than once rendering them almost completely useless, and once again striking sanji with full force after saving nami from his ship.

your movements had unconsciously slowed which peaked sanji’s interest, your eyes matched the storms of outside; dark and brewing. your soft features that he absolutely adored turned sharp and frightening yet even your anger had a hinge of sadness as your lips downturned into a pout, quivering slightly at whatever thoughts your mind is forming.

before he could ask what’s wrong, you’re already turning to look up at him his heart dropping at what he recognized as anger turning out to be grief, the familiar shine in your eyes as you attempt to blink away the tears that you’re so frantically keeping back. he’s quick to throw out his cigarette and placing both of his hands on your cheeks with concern, his thumbs running soothing circles to calm you down. “hey, what’s wrong sweet girl?”

“i’m sorry!” through your choked sobs, quivering lip, and the horrible lump in your throat you’re finally able to speak up. you want nothing more than lean into his chest and apologize over and over again for being nowhere near him during his fight with eneru. if only you hadn’t run along with robin, you could’ve helped sanji and usopp. you were far from the strongest but you’re still able to hold your own. you push yourself back but sanji’s stubborn grip prevents you from slipping away from him, instead he’s wiping your tears away and stroking your hair. “i should’ve been there. i could’ve helped you.”

“hey-“ he pulls you back so you’re looking at him, his eyes are hard and disappointed not at you rather himself for letting someone as beautiful as yourself to worry over someone like him. he gives you a soft smile, “you did everything and more with robin. stop worrying your pretty little head over meat heads like us.”

“but-“

“and who knows, maybe i got hurt so i can keep you all to myself,” sanji hums, his hand slowly moving back down to you cheek. his cold fingers stroking your cheek lightly with a dazed expression; lovesick eyes as he flickers from your eyes to your lips. zoro would have laughed and insulted his dopey face with how ridiculous he looks but he didn’t care and neither did you. he leans in slightly, “who else would strip me naked to rub balm on me? i’m in heaven.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his words, the atmosphere brightening almost instantly. his words of reassurance going straight to your heart. rather than playing into his tease, you lean into his hand planting a small kiss on his palm. “i’m sure chopper wouldn’t mind helping you but you really shouldn’t hurt yourself, who else would feed us?”

“blind and deaf with one or two arms, ill always make sure to give you everything you deserve,” sanji claims, his eyes turning into hearts at your actions, ignoring the mention of chopper rubbing the balm on him. the sound of your soft laughter and his attempts of stealing kisses from you ring throughout the hallway of the going merry, replacing what was once quiet.

note. truth be told, i’ve been avoiding my homework by writing which explains two post in less than a week. i should probably focus on school … also i really love skypiea and couldn’t help myself. p.p.s taylor’s sweet nothing really set the mood for this which is why it’s so short.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Ptolemaea

Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

Warnings: one mention of sex so MDNI (18+), angst, kidnapping

Words: 2.3k

Synopsis: …

You are currently reading chapter 11 of The Roommate Series

A small sigh left your mouth as you packed up your backpack.

You had to go back to campus today to return a few items and you couldn’t help but fight with yourself over doing it right now. You had put it off for a day now, unable to get anything done since Simon had left but eventually you convinced yourself it was best to get it over with sooner rather than later.

Part of you was grateful you had put it off until now. It gave you an excuse to get outside of the house, to stop wallowing in your grief and torturing yourself by staying in Simon’s room all day. You needed a small distraction to ease you back into your life without him for however long he’d be gone.

You placed your hand on your chest and felt the dog togs he left you underneath a shirt of his you put on, and you felt your heart warm.

“You don’t need them?” You had asked on the brink of sleep.

The two of you were laid in bed, finally exhausted from the multiple rounds of sex that lasted well into the night. His fingers drew circles into your lower back while he caressed your face, almost purposefully trying to put you to sleep while he never stopped staring at you.

“I can get new ones.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and your eyes fluttered shut.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a deep breath. Instead of dwelling on the memory, you grabbed your backpack and made sure you had everything you needed.

Wallet, keys to the apartment, your phone and the burner phone he left on your desk. 

It felt wrong to leave the apartment without announcing where you were going. In your heart he was still here, telling you to be safe on your walk and that he was going to be here when you got back, ready to listen to you or to do whatever you wanted.

Soon, you had to keep telling yourself that. He’d come home soon and for much longer.

You stepped out into the summer air and locked the door behind you. You squinted in the light and stepped onto the sidewalk, ready to start the short journey to campus when a black SUV caught your attention.

It was parked in the driveway of one of the apartments that had been empty for a couple months now. It meant you had new neighbors and for a moment you felt a little relieved that you’d have to introduce yourself to them whenever you saw them out. Though, you did find it strange that they didn’t have any boxes they were moving considering you couldn’t remember seeing the SUV there yesterday.

You excused it that maybe they had a moving truck on the way and started your walk towards campus. 

It was uneventful like normal and when you got to the actual university, it was practically a ghost town. You expected that much considering there probably weren’t that many people who took summer classes.

You crossed an empty parking lot to the building you needed to be in.

Your footsteps echoed in the empty hall as you made your way to the elevator. Your mind was elsewhere, focused more on what you would do when you get back to the apartment, how you were probably going to stress clean for the rest of the day when you reached the elevator.

You pressed the button to go up and stepped inside.

The door you came through opened and you watched a man in all black step inside the building. The hallway was short enough you could somewhat make out his face and your eyebrows knitted together when he looked…strangely familiar but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before.

He looked around the hallway before he locked eyes with you. He began to walk towards you but the elevator doors closed.

Was he in one of your classes? No, you knew everyone because of how small they were and he wasn’t one of them. Maybe you’d seen him around campus, but campus was also small and you had never seen him walking around before.

You tried to think where you might have seen him but the elevator doors opened with a ding.

It wasn’t long before you were in the office returning the items you needed to. The silence was anything but comforting for your overactive mind as you placed the files away and returned the keys to their proper spot.

What was Simon doing right now? Was he working or did he have a break? Was he taking care of himself, was he thinking about you right now-

The elevator dinged.

You paused and listened to slow heavy footsteps, as if each step was deliberate. It had to be the man from downstairs since you two were the only ones in the building. You don’t remember being told anyone would be joining you to return any materials, since you were the only one given access to the office.

A strange feeling settled in your stomach and your heart raced a little faster. Your hands went clammy but you weren’t sure why you were nervous all of the sudden as you watched the cloudy office window for his shadow.

The man's silhouette appeared in front of the door for a moment before he stalked further down the hall.

You stayed frozen still, your eyes never leaving the door as you listened to him take careful steps. Your mind searched for answers on why he seemed so familiar and why his presence made you feel scared.

He opened a different door down the hallway before he shut it and a couple seconds later he opened another one, shutting after just a moment before he moved on.

Was he…looking for you?

You slowly put your backpack on, breaking out of the stillness that had taken over you and you shook your head. He was probably just looking for a room and couldn’t find it, maybe he was a new professor trying to gather his bearings.

Something inside you told you that wasn’t the truth but you couldn’t believe it. Why would someone be looking for you? Everyone you knew had your phone number; they could just call you if they wanted to speak with you about something.

You were being paranoid, skittish and you wondered if Simon was rubbing off on you.

You shook your head. You had to stop making yourself anxious for no reason, even if your gut told you otherwise. Your heart still raced as you made your way to the office door, but when you grabbed the handle you hesitated.

“I deal with dangerous people.” 

Simon’s words echoed in your mind and you swallowed hard. It was too coincidental, too unlikely. There was no chance someone normal would be following you, let alone someone who Simon dealt with at work, you were just so stressed your mind was racing to worst case scenarios instead of thinking logically.

You were about to open the door when the man’s footsteps got closer. Instinctual fear gripped your throat and you locked the door, quietly back away from it until you were sure he wouldn’t be able to see you through the foggy glass.

His shadow appeared again and your heart went into your throat. You watched as he tried to the door and when he realized it was locked he jiggled it a few times, causing you to clench your jaw. 

The man huffed and you watched him pull out a phone. He held it up to his ear and began to speak a language you couldn’t understand, the syllabus falling on deaf ears as your heartbeat took over every other sense in your body.

You needed to get home.

He jiggled the doorknob again and you stepped further back into the office.

You stayed silent, barely breathing as you hoped he would give up on trying to open the door. His words were harsh as if he were frustrated as he landed a swift kick against the door that made you jump and press your shaky hands over your mouth.

It felt like hours before he stepped away from the door. You listened to his footsteps go towards the elevator, heard it ding and before long his voice had disappeared.

You didn’t breathe a sigh of relief as you unlocked the door. You rushed out into the hall and ran towards the stairwell on the other side of the building, far from the elevator. 

It took immense self control to open and close the door as softly as you could. You couldn’t risk making that much noise if he really was looking for you. Your mind raced as you quietly rushed down the stairs, trying to find out who he was and what he could possibly want with you. There was nothing remarkable about you, nothing you did or had that someone would want from you.

You reached the bottom of the stairs and you were about to exit into the building when you heard voices.

Voices. One belonged to the man who tried to get into the office and another belonged to a different man, but they both spoke the same language. You couldn’t understand a word but you tried to figure out what it was in case you came across them again in the future. Russian?

It didn’t matter as you heard them get closer to the stairwell. You turned around and opened the outside exit door inside.

You stepped out, carefully closing the door before you rushed towards the front of the building to the empty parking lot. You turned around the corner and your stomach dropped to your feet as intense fear washed over you.

The black SUV was parked just a couple feet from the door.

You were being followed.

Your feet carried you across the parking lot. At first you thought that maybe you could walk fast enough to get past it, to hopefully be out of their sights before they even exited the building but you were wrong. Halfway through the parking lot, you glanced behind you to make sure you still had time, and watched them both walk out.

In the split second the three of you spotted each other they ran towards the SUV and you sprinted in the other direction.

Your lungs burned and your chest hurt. Your feet carried you before your mind did as the only thing on your mind was to get back to the safety of your apartment. There was nothing else you could do, no one else you could run to, nowhere else to run to but back home and hope that the slight head start that you had gave you enough time to get there before they caught up to you.

Your neighborhood felt larger than it was, the run back to your apartment felt longer as if the sidewalks were against you in your desperation to make it back. You wished someone was outside, someone was driving by or someone would let you into their house, someone to help you but you didn’t have the time to figure out if they would.

You practically broke down the front door of your apartment. You shoved it closed and locked it, unable to catch your breath as you shook so much you wondered if you’d collapse. 

You felt sick as you panicked.

You wanted to call Simon. This counted as an emergency, you knew he’d count it as one but what would he do? He wasn’t here, he was probably in a different country, far from you that something bad would happen by the time he would pick up the phone. 

The black SUV stopped in front of the apartment and your mind went to Simon’s gun. 

You had no idea how to use, fuck you should’ve let him teach you, but maybe it would be enough to deter them. Maybe they would hesitate to try to break through the doors while you called the cops if you told them you had a gun.

You didn’t think twice as you threw down your backpack and rushed to Simon’s room. You weren’t sure exactly what you would do as soon as you got ahold of his gun but you hoped you wouldn’t have to use it; it had to be enough to just hold it, it had to be.

You opened his bedroom door and froze.

A man sat on the edge of Simon’s bed and met your eyes. He sat there calm and collected as if he hadn’t broken into your apartment, his sharp eyes stared at you with a sort of cold indifference as if he had been inconvenienced. He wore all black just like the others and in his lap was Simon’s gun.

You didn't know what to do. A stranger was in your house, strangers were outside your door and the only weapon you could use for self defense was in the hands of the person who broke into your house.

At that moment you wondered if you were going to die here or if this was going to be the last time you ever saw daylight.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” The man warned, no, threatened you with the tilt of the gun.

It was a mistake but you ran. 

You ran back into the living, scared out of your mind because all you could think about was the fact that you were trapped inside the one place you thought was the safest. You were like an animal trapped in a hunter’s cage, prey to men you had no idea what their intentions were. 

The front door was kicked down and the two men stepped inside. 

You finally got a good look at their faces and you realized with horror that you recognized them from the restaurant that Simon had taken you on your first date together. 

They had been watching you this entire time.

You were about to run to the back door when the man from Simon’s room rushed up to you and smacked the gun against your head, knocking you out cold.

Link to part 12

A/N: oops! As if things can't get any worse lol anyway hoped you guys liked it (remember there will be a happy ending)

The tag list is closed!! I am so happy that so many of you want to be tagged for this story but I will not be accepting anymore requests to tag people in this series since this list has gotten long and it's hard to keep track of how many I have to add! Sorry for the inconvenience!

Tags:

@kat-nee @alexwashere82 @suicidal-marshmellow @shuttlelauncher81 @poohkie90 @reiya-djarin @k4marina @mionacaped @igotmajordaddyissues @xxghostyx @pasta-m1lk @imstargazing @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @kgive @konig-is-bbygrl @lialacleaf @frazie99 @gremlin-ghuleh @spencerreidisbae123 @writingmysanity @lillianastuff @alastorhazbin @reid490 @lockleywife @sheepselecric @dead-noodles @marshmallowtraver @sinclairbrosbathmat @sofasoap @crazyfandomist @iwmtfm @oiiviagrande @genesis1363 @revyjerry @guttabutta00 @greenkiki @d4z01 @quietlyignoringyou @mysticalgalaxysalad @almightywdm @maviee @lycheedr3ams @multitargaryen @fruitymoonbeams-blog @lilpothoscuttings @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @adriennepoison

[roseglazedlens]

⦑ spoiled girl ⦒✶.*

requested by anonymous pairing(s): leon kennedy x f!reader synopsis: after the lost of your non-biological father, you find a way to come to terms with your grief with your stepbrother in the most unexpected ways. content: smut 18+ only mdni, stepcest, leon & reader are adopted, hurt/comfort, found family(?), grief smut, family member death, unprotected p in v, mating press, oral (f! receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, mentions of death, childhood trauma « 1.6 k words┇ao3 ┇masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

That man was never Leon’s blood father, but he was as close to one could be. Both just as stubborn, protective. Apprehensive at first, Leon found new comfort in calling this man ‘dad’, a word so foreign it spat off his tongue when he uttered it for the first time in sixteen years.

Leon first met you on the summer of ’95. You were antsy, untrusting, straight out of the orphanage. He recognised the signs - how your fingers tap restlessly against your thigh, eyes averted - you reminded him of his younger self. He didn't care if you two weren't bound by blood, instead, took it upon him to care for you like a real sibling he never had.

Sometimes, feeling beyond that with the wildfire looks exchanged through the hallways of your shared living quarters. Granted, none of those emotions will survive to daylight.

That is until your father passed away in a car accident five years later, he drew breath to his final words – “Take care of your sister, son.” Which will grow to be the latest memory Leon will remember of him.

Screeches echo the entrance as Leon opens the front door, embraced by a gust of cool air, chilling to the spine, into the hallway of darkness. You expect to hear the usual rattle of cookware and a distant hum of Billy Joel, but only the mutters of toneless eulogies ring in your head.

“I’m going to my room.” You murmur. Leon doesn’t say anything as you surrender yourself to the hollow in your room.

The door shuts behind you, piercing through the silence that once filled with countless occurrences of laughter and jest. Leon observes the sofa in the living space, one that he often finds his dad sitting on to watch a game. He picks up the throw, relieved to smell lingers of his dad's scent on them.

Maybe you'll appreciate it. He picks it up, folding the corners neatly together, as if the gesture alone can preserve the scent within. He grabs a box of tissues too, you’ll probably need it.

“Hey.” Leon knocks on your door.

“Go away.” You sniffle.

“I’ve brought you something.” You didn’t say anything, which is a signal, as he had learnt through the years, for him to come in.

Leon finds your figure sitting at the edge of the bed, a photograph of the three of them burying into your face, the tears dripping along the metallic frame onto your black pencil skirt, one you haven’t worn since your first job interview.

“How are you doing?” Leon positions himself right next to you, one hand extending the tissue box slightly to you.

You appreciate the gesture, instantly snatching a few strips to wipe the tears on your face and blow your nose deeply into the tissue.

“I… I already miss him, Leon.” You choke through the words, feeling another sting in your eye. The throw is draped in front of you, and you can't stop remembering how much your father means to you.

Leon almost didn’t know what to say. “Me too.”

“I don't want to be alone again.” Another sniffle threaten to escape.

“You won't. You still have me.” In an effort to comfort you, he slides his hand on your back, rubbing small circles at your centre.

Your hands fly underneath his arms, tears drenching over his tailored black suit, one that snugs around his figure. Leon hasn’t cried once ever since the orphanage, but today, he almost did. He runs his hand into weaves of your hair, massaging your scalp slightly as he pulls you closer into his embrace.

A sigh left your throat, almost a bit content. Pleasured. Leon catches your breath on his shirt, and his breath hitches ever so slightly. Leon parts with your embrace just a tad, just enough until your eyes meet. The smell of your childhood bedroom runs into his nose like juicy steak dangling right in front of his lion’s claw – he was so close to have it all.

“I’m sorry…” Leon cups your face, tilting his closer to you.

He runs his lips to yours, breaking the spell that has been keeping him away this entire time. Your lips twitch in resistance for a brief second, before losing control into the softness of his lips. Gently, he pushes you down till your frame meets the soft mattress as he plants his palms on each side of your face.

“We don’t have to do this…” His lids are hooded, cautious words contradicting the burning desire hiding behind the hardness pressing onto you. Leon tries to pull away from you out of conscience, but it has become impossible looking at how obedient you are underneath him.

“I can't say I don't want this...” Your hands come up to feel the mole next to his adam's apple. “You've always been more than just a brother to me.”

Leon kisses you on the forehead, this time with endearment. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You nod, stifling a chuckle between your covered mouth. The kisses grow hungrier, more erratic. His hands start running down the zip on your skirt, pulling it down just slightly. Leon's fingers slither into your underwear, grazing lightly against the tiny bud that pulses slightly upon touch. A moan gasps at the back of your throat as he circles it gently, feeling you throb through your clit. Your thighs jolt together for a second, then relaxes, widening your stance for easier access. Leon runs a hand along your slit, collecting the juices onto the pad of his finger, bringing it up to his lips for a taste of that nectar.

“God, I didn’t know my sister is so spoiled.” He whistles, pulling your legs up his shoulders, basking in the wetness between your thighs.

Leon preps his cleaned fingers for another entry. With a skilled movement, he presses his thumb against your clit, index finger teasing at your entrance as he feels around your folds.

Your breath hitches at the impact, composure falling apart and melting into a puddle of your own pleasure. Leon parts his lips and land them right in front of your bud, exchanging places with his fingers. He breathes onto it lightly, triggering a tickle sensation that lets out a giggle in you before he takes in all of it in his mouth. Suckling on them. His fingers resume, moving in between your folds, thrusting his digits into you.

Your moans turn into a strangled pant, crying his name out loud, chasing the high that he instils into you. Leon watches you through the whole thing. When he sees your movement starts uncontrollable twitch, he releases your bub with a wet pop.

He moves his face lower, putting his tongue inside of you, thrusting and licking your sweet juices until you almost unravel on his tongue. Before he suddenly takes his tongue off you, his finger still pressing firmly in your pulsing clit. You whined out, clenching to nothing.

“L-Leon… Let me c-come…”

“Wait for me, baby. I want us to come together.” He kisses your inner thigh to as if to apologise before Leon removes his shirt revealing his chiselled body. He gets his pants undone and let it fall onto his knees. He wrings out of them awkwardly, tossing to the side of the bed.

You see his cock for the first time, looming in front of you. The crest of his cock slightly bulged in pink, tip drooling to enter you.

“Be a good girl for me and lift your legs up for me, won't you?” Leon curls his hand around his cock, fisting it a few times. You can't take your eyes off him as you lift your bottom upwards. He nods in gratitude as he hooks your knees across his shoulders, pressing you down so slightly until your knees almost touch your jaw.

You squirm involuntarily, a light gasp left your mouth as he lines himself up against you. You buck your hips closer, getting impatient. His breath turns heavy before thrusting himself into you.

You use this opportunity to lock his waist with your ankles, securing him just enough for his movements to become strained. The curse that left Leon’s mouth was almost carnal. He buries himself into you, elbows losing balance for a second and falls onto the mattress before he picks himself back up. Your thighs start to quiver under him, a welling of emotions chasing the high of your euphoria. His dick twitches, groans turning into desperate whimpers. He pulls himself out of you, shooting strings of white onto your sheets as he pants in relief.

“Where did you learn how to do all that?” Leon rolls right next to you, asking with a heaved breath.

“You know I’m already twenty-four, right?” You chuckle. “I’ve had some experience.”

“You’re already twenty-four?” He releases a heavy breath, mentally counting the years. “I would’ve graduated high school seven years ago… Man, I'm getting old.”

“Shut up, you’re just a year older than me.” You run your fingers to the soft of his waist, tickling him in the spot you know he’s sensitive to.

Leon guards his sides defensively, hands held in yours to stop you. You chuckle at his reaction, but he holds your hand firmly this time. His eyelids hood the cerulean of his eyes, gaze fixed upon you like wildfire meets turbulent waves.

“I’ll take care of you. Whatever it takes. Always.”

Leon’s hand grip onto yours, a bit firmer. You let a grin tug your cheek, and lunge to hug him.

He intends to keep every bit of this promise.

i've never thought ab stepcest in this way, until this kind anon asked me to write this. ngl i wasn't sure how to approach this at first - but i think i did my best? ik stepcest can be kinda controversial, i just enjoy writing angst in all forms lol thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose. tags: @carlosgf @sporeghost (pm me for tags) © roseglazedlens - please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

[bellaxisworld]

february 17, @jegulus-microfic prompt: soup. word count: 685

cw: grief/sadness & mentioned death of parents

Regulus dug through the kitchen drawers quickly. He could have sworn the small yellow paper was around here somewhere, he remembered vaguely seeing it just a couple months ago—

There! There it is, hidden beneath magazines and old receipts, looking slightly crinkled. He pulled it out with a relieved sigh. 

He pattered gently through the house, noting and hating the eerie silence. Their home had never really been known for its silence, with plenty of clatter going on. James was not a quiet human. He was loud and the echoes of his laughs were usually bouncing around the halls. He made noise when he walked or danced around the house, and he was always humming or whistling some tune that was stuck in his head. Regulus found the constant noise endearing. He always knew when James was around. 

But now, he felt cold walking through a silent home. 

James was exactly where Regulus found him, laying still and quiet on the bed. He stared blank-eyed at the ceiling, seeing nothing that was there. James was a hollow of a person, and Regulus’ heart broke every day he saw him like this. 

James’ parents passed away over a month ago, and James wasn’t himself. 

“Hi, baby,” Regulus whispered, crawling onto the bed to sit beside James. He brushed away the curls from James’ forehead, trying to pour all his love into him. James thrived and lived off love—love in all its forms, physical affections, words of kindness and care, friendships and romantic love and familial love—it was all pure James, and he needed it. In fact, he was obnoxious with love, overfull of so much love for everyone around him and the rest of the world. 

So Regulus did what he could, touching and caring for James in the small and big ways, especially as he fell apart. 

James looked at Regulus, eyes sorrowful, and Regulus wasn’t used to seeing James without a smile. 

Today, at the very least, wasn’t a bad day. James’ bad days were spent going through cycles of catatonia and body-wracking sobs. Today, though, James just looked sad.

“I found something I want us to try,” Regulus whispered, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Hm?” James hummed. 

Regulus showed him the yellow slip of paper, and his hand was slightly shaking. He was mildly fearful of James’ reaction to it. 

James looked at it, and looked at, and kept looking, and Regulus was about to ask, to beg for a response when James gulped, and turned back to Reg with tearful eyes. 

“I’d love to,” he whispered, voice thick. 

The paper was many years old, and there was a bulleted list of ingredients and instructions on how to properly make Euphemia Potter’s homemade albondigas soup. Regulus smiled, grateful for this show of life, and helped James out of bed, changing his clothes and wrapping him in a fluffy robe before leading him to the kitchen. 

They assigned roles, and James was gentle when he began making and forming the meatballs. Regulus grabbed the other ingredients, the broth and spices and vegetables. They worked around each other and with each other, and Regulus was pleased to see their comfortable dynamic returning, even in the small ways. 

When the soup was done, Regulus shuffled James onto sitting on the couch and shushed him when he complained. He served them two bowls of soup and they cuddled up on the couch, warm and pressed against each other. Regulus hoped James felt every bit of Euphemia’s love from the soup and from him. Regulus would coddle him unashamed because Regulus cherished him, and James needed to feel that. 

James finished his bowl of soup and curled into Regulus, head on his chest and breathing steady. 

“Thank you, Reg,” he whispered. “I felt closer to her, just for a little while.”

Regulus smiled and kissed his nose. “We can make soup as often as you want, if it helps.”

James smiled, a small and sad-tainted thing, but it was his first smile in months, and Regulus felt himself heal a little bit, too.

part of my february microfic work on ao3(17/29): february, i'm yours

[luveline]

eddie blurb? you wake up sad and sweaty from a nightmare and he isnt there (he’s legit just outside smokin but the reader is scared as shit and whatnot) feel free to ignore this lol

im obsessed with soft comforting eddie ty for requesting!

1k words gn!reader tw nightmares about dying/death

The seconds that it takes you to realise where you are are almost as scary as the nightmare itself, though by the time you come around you have no clue what the nightmare was, the only evidence of its happening is a layer of clammy sweat on your skin, your racing heart, and the twin streams of tears down the sides of your face. 

What was the nightmare about? You try to remember. Hurting, a loss, grief. Somebody had been missing. Somebody… but who? Pale skin, dark brown eyes, a pretty nose. A mouth shaped by kisses. 

Eddie. Eddie had been missing. You can't remember the details and you aren't sure you want to, but you think that the nightmare had been about losing Eddie. 

And… where is he? 

You feel his side of the bed and find it cold. The window of his bedroom is closed to stave off the growing winter chill and the layer of blankets over you is thick. Your boyfriend usually acts as a space heater. The cold sheets can't be a good sign. 

He must be gone. 

You bite your lip hard by accident and jolt, pushing the suffocating layer of blankets off of your sweaty body and staggering onto dead legs, dizzy and disoriented. Your shirt and pajama trousers are damp with moisture. 

You almost trip over discarded clothes – yours and his – on your way to the door, creeping cautiously past Eddie's Uncle Wayne sleeping on the sofa bed and through the dark living room. The trailer home doesn't retain much heat and the floor is freezing even through your socks. 

You see what you hope to see. The door cracked open. Still, the nightmare plays on your mind. He'd been missing, something had happened to him. You'd woken up just as something was going to happen to you, you realise. Suddenly the dark is terrifying. You rush the last few feet to the porch and push it open, and there Eddie is in his pajamas, a cigarette hanging between his lips, his notebook in hand. 

He quickly sets the notebook aside when he sees you and takes a drag of his cigarette before pulling it away. Smoke streams between his fingers. "Hey, shortcake," he says quietly, flicking ash into the ashtray by his thigh. "I'm coming back in. Two seconds." 

You don't have time to speak as you drop to your knees and wrap your arms around him. 

He flinches. "Uh tu tu, babe! I'll burn you." 

"Eddie," you say tearfully. "I was so scared."

You don't mean to admit the last part, but it's true. You'd never felt a dread that pervasive in your life. Even now it sticks around, your limbs lead with its weight. 

"What?" he asks, horrified. 

You sniffle and dig your head into his chest as he wraps one of his arms around you, the soft material of a zip up hoodie he'd thrown on pressed to your clammy clothes. 

"You were scared? What happened?" 

You can't say it out loud. You need a minute. 

Eddie waits patiently. You listen as he blows smoke out of the corner of his mouth and snuffs out the cigarette butt, his second arm coming to wrap around you. You've basically collapsed into his arms, your face slipping down so that it's almost at his stomach. 

"Sweetheart?" he asks. 

"I had a bad dream," you admit, embarrassed but so relieved, soaking in his warmth as the cold air threatens to freeze you on the spot like two human icicles. 

He pets your shoulders. "Yeah? What happened." 

"You were gone." Your voice cracks. "I can't remember the rest." 

"Hey. It's okay," he murmurs. 

"Sorry, I know it's stupid." 

Eddie tsks and needles his arms under yours to drag you up the length of his chest, pulling you close. Your face locks into place over his trap muscle like a jigsaw piece, like it has a hundred times before. 

"It's not stupid." 

You wiggle your face into his neck, needing to be closer than close. 

"Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up," he says. 

"It's okay," you whisper. 

Eddie starts to sway you gently from one side to the other, hands working roughly up and down your back in an attempt to warm you up. It works. His hands feel like brands in the cold. 

You hide your own hands in the soft mess of his dark curls, pulling a handful to your face to breathe in. He smells like he usually smells, the sweet, heavy smell of a bruised apple. The heady hints of cologne from the day before. The cloying whispers of cigarette smoke. 

"We should go inside. It's cold out here," Eddie says.

"I'm so glad you're okay." 

He takes your neck into his hands and guides you back, sliding his palms slowly upwards. Heat seeps into your jaw, your cheeks. 

He meets your gaze. "Of course I'm okay. It was just a dream. Just a dream, baby. We're both okay." 

You stare at his chin, sheepish. "I know. It felt… it felt so real. I woke up and you felt gone. I can't explain it." 

"I can imagine it." 

"Yeah?" you ask, bringing your eyes up back to his. He's a mixture of concerned and empathetic. A hint of sadness. 

"Yeah, I think so. I don't ever want to know how it would feel to lose you." 

You sniffle and he clocks your teary eyes. He pinches your wet nose between his fingers gently, then drags the tip of his index finger under your heavy lashes. 

"Let's go back to bed," he says firmly. 

You nod and let him lead you into the trailer, through the cold living room and back to the sanctuary of his bed. He doesn't complain when you climb on top of him though it can't be comfortable, your thighs between his and your arms wrapped around his neck.

In fact, he smiles. "I like how you feel on top of me. Your weight." 

You smile back shyly. "Push me off if I get too heavy." 

"Never," he whispers through his grin. 

[voltronisanobsession]

Hi!! I have some Dad!Miguel content for you >:)

We all know that Miguel is a very busy man, and I don’t think that would change if he had a kid. So what about teen!reader who got bit by a spider and became spider woman? Reader is recruited to the society without Miguel knowing who we are under the mask. BUT PLOT TWIST!!! We get hurt in a fight and our mask is ruined so he finds out just as we’re passing out from injuries :(((

Happy ending? (Or not, your choice >:) )

Miguel finding out His Kid is a Spider Person

I just wanna let you know I was listening to what was I made for while writing this JUST TO GET THAT EXTRA ANGST

This one is really long so I hope you don’t mind😜‼️

HAHAHA I LIKE YOUR THINKING

Like I can imagine Miguel having a kid who has seen EVERYTHING he went through

The loss of his youngest daughter, him spiraling down from grief, knowing their father willingly left for a while just to be able to be with their younger sister in another dimension

Like that shit took a lot from you, making teen!reader feel… unwanted by the end of it all

Imagine this scenario with me

Reader ALREADY knows what’s happening in the other dimension, worried out of their mind, wondering if their dad will make it out alive

Hurt that he just up and left them. You’re sitting in silence when a portal opens, Miguel walking through it, along with other spiders, some limping, others being carried out

As relieving as it is to see your dad ok, you can’t help but feel disappointed, angry,betrayed in a way when you look at him

None of you guys talk about what happened which causes a rift in your relationship

And now that he’s suffered the consequences of a collapsed universe, we all know Miguel is digging himself in more work in the Spider society

He’s still bitter and angry, mostly at himself, and now his main goal is to protect all universes from any anomalies

But that comes at a price of neglecting you, his only child

You continue your life, Miguel rarely coming home most days. You cook for yourself, clean around the house by yourself, taking care of yourself

On a rare day you decide to visit the spider society, you notice a weird flickering coming from an alley way (so original I know)

Unknowingly, you venture through it, only to find the thing causing all the glitching was a small spider. Finding a small container thrown to the side, you try to capture the anomaly, but the spider had incredible speed, running up your arm and under your shirt

You start panicking when you feel it bite you, immediately swatting it away from your neck

After that, the rest is basically history. You’re too afraid to tell ANYONE what happened, especially Miguel. You know how he is, what he thinks of anomalies.

So you go through these changes in quiet. By yourself, again. You learn how to use your new abilities and start making yourself known in your city

While Miguel is busy with the society, you busy yourself as the up and coming spider hero

Of course Miguel catches wind of this, obviously confused on the new spider person lurking in his dimension

With a new mask covering your face, your able to convince (clumsily may I add) your father that you managed to get thrown into this world after a portal opened

This man literally tries sending you back to ‘your real world’ but Jess tells him it’s better to have you in the team

So your spider journey begins! You get your own watch, become friends with the other spiders, hell you even start growing closer to Miguel, your father, but you never, ever take off your mask

The spider mask gives you a new identity, a new confidence that helps build up your relationship with Miguel

You both go on missions together, the older man kinda taking you under his wing

You guys work well together when capturing anomalies

You’re able to joke around him more often, him scoffing at the dumb ones while you laugh

Over time, he grows to enjoy your presence. He becomes kinda protective of you, constantly telling you to be careful when out on missions

He feels a sense of familiarity when around you, though he can never place his finger on why

He just knows you remind him of someone, your laughter so familiar yet not at the same time

You cherish every moment you have with Miguel, whether it’s sitting in silence while he files some paperwork or dragging him to the cafeteria to eat something

And at the end of the day, you wave goodbye to your friends and pretend to go through a portal, only to swing away from the society back to your home in Nueva York

I feel like teen!reader would be a little bitter over their growing relationship with their dad under a different alias

Why couldn’t you have a normal family relationship with him? Did he prefer your spider version over the real you? It’s still you under the mask but would he be the same if he knew? How would he even react if he ever found out it was you under the mask the entire time?

You only start truly panicking when you get seriously injured during a particularly hard mission

Cut deep on your side and mask ripping, you collapse in pain as Miguel runs to you

Your heaving as short and shaky breaths escape your mouth

Miguel tries picking you up only for you to cry out from the movement

Everything crumbles around you as your dad tries to remove your ruined mask to let you breathe more easily

You stop him from pulling up your mask with a shaky hand, fear laced in your voice

He would look down in worry, you seemed more scared of him seeing your face than of the wound gushing with blood

“Please. Don’t.”

“You need air. I promise I won’t let anyone see your face.”

You breathing quickens as he takes off the mask, your eyes closed in shame, tears falling down like a waterfall

You blearily blink your eyes to look at him, his shocked face the last thing you see before passing out, whether from the pain or from the intense emotions you felt is anyone’s guess

I think after taking you back to headquarters, Miguel would be super conflicted on how to approach the situation

In fact, he’s at a loss for words on what to do

He hadn’t seen you in a long time, but now knowing you were right in front of him the entire time

He would feel ashamed. How could he not know it was you the entire time? Did he even know his own child at this point? What kind of father was he?

When you wake up, there is only two ways this can go

A LOT of talking gonna happen. Maybe even some yelling from both parties

It might end in tears and regret, or it might end in tears and anger

Miguel doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore, and you don’t know to express yourself without bursting into tears

I’ll leave the rest into interpretation for you guys, it really depends on who starts the conversation

It’s either Miguel’s regret or your anger

[barefoothighlander]

hiiii i love your work so much and i was wondering if you could please do something angsty where the reader is dating ghost and on the team and something goes wrong? like to the point where they are MIA and presumed dead for months? but they are found and ghost is so relieved and can’t believe that they’re alive (can be female reader or gender neutral i don’t mind 💛)

been in my feels recently so here’s some ghost angst

warnings: violence, grief, mentions of death, small mention of scars & blood, mentions of ptsd, smoking, gn pronouns (reader call sign is fox)

“Where are they?” Ghost bursts into Prices office

“Soap got back 10 minutes ago”

“And what about Fox, are they back?”

“Not yet”

“Not yet? Did they call in?”

“Comms fell through half an hour ago”

“So they’re out there blind?”

Price huffs a breath, nodding to Ghost, his face drops, you had been on a recon with Soap and it was going well until the two of you got ambushed and had to call for evac, Soap made it to the rendezvous point where the heli was waiting but you weren’t there, the enemies swarmed the checkpoint, you made the call for them to leave you.

Ghost loomed around base for hours, waiting, changing the channel on his comms every minute to see if you were talking, but it was radio silent.

“Let me go find them”

“Absolutely not Simon, there’s hostile everywhere I’m not sending you out to get killed”

“With all due respect Captain, it’s not your call”

“If you leave this base I will have you sent home son, the best we can do is wait”

Ghost stands still, his eyes staring down Price silently begging him to let him leave, but Price stays stern. He walks to the deck, standing outside the base his his back against the wall, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and lighting one.

He stands outside for hours, willing you to appear, to be safe, walking towards him with open arms, but his view is clear. No one on deck, no vehicles pulling in, there’s nothing.

Two months pass, two months of silence, Price had called the mission to an end two weeks after you were declared MIA, Ghost went back to an empty home. Everything was too quiet without you there, the bright lights of the house dimmed without your presence, Simon felt everything slipping away again.

He’d never prepared himself for the day he’d lose you, he’d lost everyone, everything, the pain of living without you didn’t even compare to that of losing his family, he felt like someone had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out. He barely slept, staying awake every night praying you’d walk through the door, when he did sleep he dreamt of you, your face resting on the pillow just inches from his, he dreamt of just holding you.

The scent of your soap still lingered on some old clothes, he’d sometimes grab a shirt and just hold it to his skin, imagining it was you there in front of him instead of a piece of cloth.

Within the second month he had cut all contact with the team, ignoring their calls and texts, he didn’t care for their words of encouragement or condolences, none of it made up for the fact that you weren’t there.

He felt guilty, he couldn’t save you, he blamed himself thinking about how he should’ve been there, he shouldn’t protected you just like he’d done in missions before. He blamed Soap for leaving without you, even if it was your call, he would’ve never left you behind no matter the circumstances.

It was all too much, he didn’t have enough time with you, an eternity still would’ve been too short, everything in him ached and longed for you, he just wanted one more moment, one more time he could tell you how much you meant to him, how much he loved you.

He refused to pack your things, not out of denial but because he refused to let you be forgotten, wherever you were, you’d be with him forever. He always made your side of the bed, he kept all your mugs next to his just like you’d done years before, everything in his life still looked as if you were with him.

His hope dwindled with each day, every night you were gone was just a higher chance of you never coming home to him, he checked in with base every morning to see if there was any news, everyday was the same, you hadn’t shown up.

72 days had gone by since you went missing, presumed dead but they hadn’t identified your body, at 4am Simon was standing on the porch smoking a cigarette when the ring of his phone echoed through the house, he assumed it was some call in for an op, begrudgingly dragging himself back inside to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Simon?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m with the Bayfield Emergency Hospital, we have a patient asking for you”

His heart dropped through his chest, he hung up his phone and rushed to his car, he was acting purely on adrenaline, every fibre of his being hoping it was you they found, that he wouldn’t arrive to someone else laying in a cot.

He’s speeding through the dark night, eyes darting around to check for police officers, there was nothing in the world that could stop him from getting to the hospital.

He pulls into the parking lot and rushes through the large glass doors,

“Where are they?”

“Who Sir?”

“The one that asked for Simon, where are they?”

“I need your full name”

“I- I can’t, please just tell me where they are”

“Sir I can’t let you in without the paperwork”

He slams his fists to the desk, “Please”

He sees two security guards from the corner of his, he retracts his palms stepping back, tears pricking his eyes as heat flushes his skin,

“Is he here yet?” A doctor asked, stepping through a sliding door

“Are you fox’s doctor?”

“Who are you”

“I’m Simon, are they in there”

The doctor looks hesitantly towards the nurse, “come with me”

His ears a ringing, the fluorescent lights above his head feel blinding as he makes his way through the series of hallways.

“They’re okay, a little banged up, it’s their mental state we’re worried about”

Simon looks through the small window on the door, you’re laying in the bed, your arms strapped to your sides.

“You can go in”

Simon takes a breath, nodding to the doctor before opening the door, he can see you better now, there’s cuts and bruises scattering your legs, dried blood on your skin all the way up to your neck, your face is flush, stained with tears.

“Fox?”

You turn your attention to him, shaking your head “No, no please, go away”

He moves towards you slowly, like a wounded animal as you thrash against your restraints, tears streaming down your face.

“Fox it’s me”

“Please, just let me go”

His hand ghosts over your arm and you flinch from the contact, Ghost turns to glance at the door before he takes his mask off, turning back to you.

“It’s me love, no one’s gonna hurt you”

“You’re not real”

He thinks for a moment, his fingers moving to undo one of your restraints as he kneels by your side, he lifts your hand to touch his face, your fingers trace over his scars.

“It’s me”

You let out a sob, Simon reaches to undo your other arm and pulls you into him, muffling your cries with his chest as he holds you.

“It’s okay, you’re home” He’s saying it to the both of you, your fingers clinging to his jacket.

He sits with you as you cry, his hands gently stroking your hair,

"I can't believe you're home" He whispers into your hair, his eyes watering as a small sniffle leaves his nose.

His hand holds yours close as you wait for the doctors to clear you, they tend to a few superficial cuts before letting you leave. Simon helps you slowly walk to the car, the ride back is silent, his eyes glancing over to check on you every so often before he pulls into the driveway.

You sit, staring at the house, he opens your door standing next to you, his arm extending to help you out before you make your way inside. It's all so familiar but different at the same time, everything is the same, the pictures on the shelves haven't moved, the flowers that sat in the vase now dried up and wilted, he kept everything the same.

"Let's go to bed" He says, his hands lightly cupping your jaw as he leans down to plant a gentle kiss to your forehead. You follow quietly behind him as he settles into bed, the mattress is soft under your body, a stark contrast to the environment you've been in for the past few months.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you into him as his chin settles on top of your head, you're breathing in his scent, the warmth of his skin enveloping you just like you wished it had for so many nights. Simon's heart aches with every sniffle you let escape, all he can do is hold you.

"I love you so much Simon"

He takes a deep breath, hip lips pressed to the crown of your head, "Don't ever leave me fox".

[theivorybilledwoodpecker]

I was exactly halfway into my second pregnancy, and up until that point, we were so ecstatic to be expecting again — a baby we’d been praying for. We kept talking about and imagining the joy it would be to bring our new baby home to meet our 2-year-old daughter. But at my 20-week ultrasound, a day that is supposed to be full of excitement and awe, we received devastating news. Our baby, a second daughter, had many severe and insurmountable skeletal and organ issues. Fetal specialists told us that it was extremely unlikely she could survive because all her major organ systems had significant development issues. We were blindsided and heartbroken, and yet somehow clear-minded. We chose to do what we believed was best for our unborn daughter as well as for our family; because that is what you do as parents. And we saw the choice we ultimately made as an act of love for her. We respect and honor that other parents have chosen — and will continue to choose — the only other option our doctor suggested to us — to let the pregnancy take its natural course and provide specialist or palliative care as needed. And that is the point. Individuals and their families — no matter where they happen to live — must be able to make the best choice for them. They need to be free to choose their own act of love. I believe now more than ever that anyone’s reason for seeking an abortion is valid. Who are we to say it isn’t? What we didn’t know when we made our decision was that in addition to being so difficult emotionally, it would be made so much worse by the abortion bans recently enacted in Idaho. Because of these cruel laws, my Idaho doctors could not provide me with an abortion — something they could easily have done before Roe v. Wade was overturned — in my own community supported by family and friends. We had to spend the following days cold-calling countless clinics in nearby states where abortion is still legal, but found out that because of all the other new abortion bans in states across the country, many clinics had closed, most had no open appointments for several weeks, and still others considered my pregnancy, at 20 weeks, too far along for me to receive care. The thought of waiting out this pregnancy, possibly for weeks, or however long, while trying to get through the day working as a chiropractor and still being active and present for our toddler was more than I could handle. All I could think about was whether the daughter I was carrying was already suffering; my anxiety and sadness were overwhelming. We both felt hopeless and heartbroken until we reached a Seattle clinic with a last-minute cancellation. Although relieved, there was so much we had to do to get there in the haze of our grief. There were flights to make, hotels to book, a car to rent and medical care our health insurance would not cover because we were going out of state to access and receive it. One of the most tragic — and degrading — parts of our situation was knowing that people in my home state of Idaho believe this is acceptable, denying me bodily autonomy. We will always be grateful to the clinic and team in Seattle for offering us professional, compassionate care. I am a person of faith and for months after my abortion, I kept telling Brandon there had to be something positive that would come out of this experience. Several months later, I learned that the Center for Reproductive Rights was putting together a challenge to Idaho’s abortion laws, and I knew immediately that moving forward as a plaintiff in the case was something I had to do. I’m proud to be one of the many women and doctors challenging and broadening these laws. Physicians in Idaho must have greater discretion over when abortion exceptions are warranted, and the decision should be the patient’s in consultation with their doctors.

[deathbecomesthem]

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader blurb (wc 790)

Summary: You have a depression induced crying jag. Eddie comforts you. Based on my own experience.

Warnings: This is how my depression feels for me sometimes. It's not a universal thing. I just wanted Eddie to comfort the reader, and meet them where they are.

*Not proofread.

** This is something that was published on a different blog sometime last year. It's going here tonight because I need it.

--

The wrongness was weighing on you, it had been for the last few days. It’s second nature, hiding behind the jokes. You learned a long time ago how to move through your days while your mind is in its darkest corners. You have the script memorized, your hands do the work that’s required without you making the decision to do it.

So you did. You did and did and did. You accomplished. You ate food. You drank water. You relieved yourself. You even managed the expected small talk with your coworkers. No one noticed that the corner of your smile never quite sat right on your face. And now, as you and Eddie sit on the couch, his head resting on your shoulder, you can’t do it anymore.

“Hey, Ed, I’m really tired,” you give his knee a little shake to draw his attention away from whatever show he was watching on the television. A cartoon, you don’t know, you’re not actually here with him at the moment. You make sure to keep your voice light and steady, “I’m gonna go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You give him your smile, and you know it must look wrong, but you hope it’s enough to satisfy him. You kiss his cheek, his lips are downturned missing the warmth of your body next to him. He says something to you, and you just nod and say goodnight, hoping you remembered the correct words, mentally checking your script.

You don’t stop in the kitchen and get a glass of water. You don’t go to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. You don’t even stop to take an allergy pill. You float along the carpet with one thought in your mind. So close. You can close the door and finally be alone and let the dark move to the front of your mind in privacy.

You do not put your clothes in the hamper. You let them fall to the ground. You do not put your soft night clothes on. You pad to the bed, climb under the covers, and the dam breaks. Sobs wrack your body, wailing like a child into your pillow to muffle the sound. The soft darkness wraps around you and pulls you deep into a feeling of loss and pain. The release of everything you’ve held onto for the last few days – weeks – years all comes crashing through you in a violent way. It feels like grief, like mourning. A loss of something you can’t quite remember.

It goes on like this. On and on. Snot and tears covering your pillow while you howl. You care less and less about the noise the further you sink into the darkness. The last time you cried like this (wept, really) was years ago. Tears do not come easily for you, and at this moment, you know they won’t stop until you fall asleep – resting in the dark, face puffy and stained.

You don’t hear Eddie come into the room. You don’t feel him get into the bed next to you. You’re gone, lost to anything but feeling the pain and letting it surge through you physically. You do feel the warmth of his arm around your center. Firm and pulling you into him. He doesn’t quiet your wails, he just wraps his arms and legs around your body. His weight grounding you and keeping you from getting lost more than you already are.

Minutes, hours, days, months, years pass in that bed. You weave in and out of consciousness, every time you find yourself in bed with Eddie’s body enveloping you. His mouth pressed against your neck, his warm and steady breath releasing from his nose and into your hair. Sleep finally takes you under when your own breathing matches the rhythm of his lungs. You rest in those strong arms, comforting. They are your home.

In the morning when your alarm rings, Eddie’s arms and legs are still holding you, relaxed with sleep but you still feel held. Your eyes are swollen and it’s difficult to open them. Despite sleeping, your body is more exhausted then before you came into the bedroom last night.

His arms pull you into him as he’s roused, nose back in your neck. “Baby. I’m here.” The choked sob that comes from you is not as hopeless as the grief you felt in the night. Not with his voice, breath, heartbeat, and arms so close to you.

You both stay in bed while you make the phone calls. You’re both sick today and can’t go to work, you tell your bosses. You ate something bad yesterday, maybe you’ll feel better tomorrow. Today, though, you need to rest and Eddie needs to be with you.

[remlionheart]

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

Marinade

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ when i first decided that i wanted to write some yuuji angst, i had a v vague idea in my head of what it might look like, but when i tell you that this fic took me for a ride, i mean it. angel boy yuuji itadori finds himself mourning his 22nd birthday rather than celebrating it. sitting alone at a bar, overwhelmed by grief when he's suddenly greeted by the one part of his past that doesn't hurt to look at. 4.9k words. hurt/comfort, angst, smut, fluff, slice of life, shonen, literally everything and anything going on here. i was crying and smiling and rooting for these characters and i'm not sure that i'll ever emotionally recover from writing this, but i'm really happy w the outcome so lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡ (also shoutout to my girl @bratbby333 for always being my biggest hype-woman and proofreading for me when i've looked at a fic for too long and start to hate it) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

now playing: marinade by dope lemon

Yuuji hadn't seen you since middle school.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He remembered you as the girl who had pretty handwriting and a serious affinity for the color blue. The girl who would leave pastel origami hearts on his desk without ever saying why. The girl who'd hide away in the library during lunch instead of eating with the rest of the class. The girl who he'd watch on the bus ride home with a sinking feeling in his stomach, catching the way your eyes glossed over each time the driver stopped in front of your house.

He learned how much you loved to read and write that year. Glancing at you from across the study hall room, secretly jotting down what number was printed along the spine of your book so that he could get you the next one in the series. He'd leave it on your desk before class started, the same way you did with his origami hearts. Never saying a word about it.

He watched you fill countless journals, your face always so concentrated as you poured your thoughts into them. He’d stop by the shopping plaza near his house after school every time he noticed that you’d reached the last page, spending his allowance to make sure there was a new one waiting for you the next morning. Each one he gave you, a different shade of blue.

But it wasn’t until the last day of eighth grade that he finally mustered up the courage to break the not-so-silent-silence the two of you had been sharing for the last 6 months. He sat down next to you, introducing himself even though it went without saying. His eyebrows furrowed a bit when you wordlessly slipped out an earbud and handed it to him. A rare, but visible smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He held it in his palm for a moment, his eyes drifting along your face as he brought it to his ear, letting the tangled white cord tether the two of you together.

He’d never heard the song before, but he still remembered thinking how fitting it was. Dreamy and melodic - just like you. The singer's voice was full of raw sincerity, adding another layer of atmospheric haze to the already heady beat while the chorus gradually filled the space between you.

He didn't have the right words to explain it at the time, but he felt lucky as he watched you stare out the window that day. Lucky to know how pretty you looked when the sunlight caught the side of your face. Lucky to know which fantasy novels you liked to spend hours losing yourself in. Lucky to know what type of music you listened to when you were deep in thought. Lucky, just to be sitting next to you.

His heart jumped around in his chest when your eyes met his again. Both of you exchanging the same somber smile as you realized what road you were on.

He handed his half of the headphones back to you, secretly relieved at how calm you still seemed despite the fact that your stop was next.

“That song,” he hesitated, the lyrics still swirling through his mind. “what was it –”

But his question came to an abrupt end as the bus began to brake, a new and overwhelming warmth dancing through his veins when he noticed how close you suddenly were to him.

His pupils doubled in size, his breath catching in his throat while you leaned in carefully, pressing the softest kiss against his boyish cheek.

"Have a good summer, Yuuji." you whispered, grabbing your backpack off the floor.

His hand rested where your lips had been, his gaze following you off of the bus. You made it about halfway up your driveway before pausing to look back at him over your shoulder, two lingering smiles blurring past one another as the driver hurried on with her route.

The next two months were filled with sunshine and soccer practice for him. Bike rides and camping trips and basketball courts. His days were usually full, but no matter what he was doing or where he was going, there was one song that was always on the tip of his tongue:

♫⋆｡ ♪ ₊ ﾟ“Do you want me? Just how I am? Do you need me and where I stand?”

One song that would forever remind him of you:

"Let's go steady, let's make a plan. Marinade on that for a little while." ⋆｡ ♪ ₊♬ ﾟ。

And he did.

He marinaded on the infatuation he felt for you the rest of that entire summer.

When August arrived that year and brought everyone back for high school, he was ready.

There were stories he wanted to tell you, questions he wanted to ask you. Playlists he wanted to make with you. Books he'd found while thrifting that he wanted to give to you. Daydreams he had of roaming the halls and laughing with you. Visions of bringing his lunch into the library so he could eat with you. He couldn't wait to hear about your summer. Couldn't wait to catch up with you. Couldn't wait to see you.

Unfortunately for you both though, life had other, much darker plans in store for the pink-haired boy who just wanted to carry around your books for you and hold your hand during passing period.

He was called out of class early on the first day. Forced to leave the building before he even had the chance to see you as he frantically tracked down the nearest shuttle and rushed across town to get to the hospital. His grandpa’s health had been on a slow decline, but after his most recent fall, it had suddenly started to plummet.

Yuuji missed the majority of that week, dedicating all of his time to the man who had essentially raised him. He would bring him food and sit with him for hours even though he was mostly incoherent. He’d tell him about his day and leave flowers by his bedside. He'd watch reruns of old game shows with him that they used to watch when Yuuji was little, completely ignoring the nurses who would say things like, "You need to give yourself a break.”

The hospital staff tried their best to get him to take a day off. To go back to school and live his own life, but Yuuji just couldn’t. His grandpa was the only family he'd ever really had. There was no way he was going to leave him. He ditched the comfort of his bedroom and began sleeping on the cramped hospital futon next to the grey-haired man, teaching himself what each machine hooked up to him was responsible for and what vitals they monitored. He’d sometimes leave throughout the day, but it was only for a couple of hours at most. He'd return with more flowers and books to read to him. By the third week of school, he'd missed almost every single one of his classes, but he didn’t care. His priorities were firm.

Yuuji stayed by his side - day in and day out, until the very end.

When he woke up to the sound of erratic beeping and codes that he didn't understand being called out by nurses, he knew. He knew in his heart that this was it. Amongst the chaos were two sets of shaking hands reaching for each other, his grandpa's last words hanging heavily in the space between them,

“Yuuji... You're a strong kid, try your best to help others, okay?”

He remembered thinking at that moment that there couldn’t be a worse feeling. That he couldn’t possibly have anything else left to lose. He was only 15 and he was now officially all on his own as he watched the only parental figure he had let out his last breath of air.

He had no family, no future, no chance.

Fate was a cruel and calculating thing though. A few days after the funeral, Yuuji discovered that he did have a future. One that was irreversibly sealed the minute he stepped foot into Jujutsu High. He had to let go of everything he'd known in exchange for the damning task of becoming a vessel for Ryomen Sukuna. He had to trade in his mundane role of being a high school freshman for the daunting responsibility of becoming a first-year sorcerer. And arguably the hardest thing of all, he had to give up the simple pleasure of sharing a set of tangled headphones with you to try and save a world that didn't truly care about him.

There was no room for normalcy anymore. This was his new life and it was ending, one day at a time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He sat at a nearly vacant bar by himself, staring down the empty glass in front of him, watching the ice melt as he ran a shaky hand along the back of his neck.

It was 4 o'clock and he was only one of two people here this early. The lights and music were still being adjusted by the workers. Cups being stocked and coolers being filled for the inevitable Saturday-night rush that would come in the next few hours. His goal was to be absolutely obliterated by then - to already be on his way back home before the swarm of college students took over.

He paused, noticing the calendar hanging by the craft beer list in front of him. His heart stuttered a bit as he blinked back at the date. No wonder he'd been feeling so reminiscent lately.

He leaned over the counter hoping to find the bartender who'd poured his first drink, but to no avail.

He grabbed his glass, sucking down the very last drop of whiskey it had to offer, trying desperately to drown out the realization that today was his 22nd birthday and the people who should be here with him weren't.

Almost every friend he'd made over the last ten years had been ripped away from him. They were scattered memories. Familiar voices that he did his best to hold onto. Faces, names, deaths that followed him everywhere he went.

Middle school and the innocence of just wanting to hold a pretty girl's hand while she walked down the hallway were long gone. He was an adult now. A very tired and traumatized adult.

He peered around the corner again, half-tempted to jump over the bar and pour himself another drink when the stereo kicked on, an overwhelming wave of pure, deep blue nostalgia flooding over him without warning.

His back straightened, his eyes suddenly darting towards the speaker as the lyrics drifted across his skin, causing every hair on his body to stand up at once.

"She wanted to die by a river. She wanted the tide to come up and drag her away, so that when she's dreamin', she can watch the tree line fall away." ⋆｡ ♪

It was the same hazy melody that he'd spent an entire summer listening to on repeat. He still knew every word, every beat. It was muscle memory the way his fingertips began to drum along the counter when a bartender finally emerged from the back.

"Sorry, do you need a –"

Time stilled, the glass nearly slipping from his hand as your gaze caught his.

"Yuuji?"

Despite how much you'd changed since the last time he saw you, your voice was somehow just as soft as he remembered it being.

He stared back at you in quiet disbelief, guilt quickly settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about how fucking strange and unexpected this all must feel for you too.

From your perspective, he'd spent all of 8th grade trying to befriend you only to up and leave without even saying goodbye. And now, 7 years later - he was at your work, looking back at you like you were an actual angel, and forgetting every word he knew.

Your eyes stayed locked on his for another moment, both of you studying the person in front of you before you finally let out a shaky breath and smiled at him.

"Here," You offered, suddenly feeling the need to soothe your own nerves too. "On the house."

He tried to tell you that he could pay for it, but it was too late. You were already pouring two shots and motioning for him to put his wallet away.

"Okay, fine. But..." There was a glimmer in his eye as he pulled his glass away from yours. "What are we toasting to?"

The smile he gave you felt like a warm hug. One that you didn't realize you needed until you had it again. "Oh," You stammered, trying to ignore the blood that was rushing to your cheeks. "What about... To old friends?"

He nodded, still wearing the same expression as your drinks lightly knocked together. "To old friends."

He couldn't help but grin again at the little shiver that swept across your body as you finished yours.

Your hair was longer, your features a bit more mature, but your mannerisms were all the same. You were still the girl that was made up of mid-day sunlight, handbound books, and shades of blue that were too pretty to exist in this world.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler and slid it to him, once again ignoring the credit card he tried to hand you. "Yuuji, relax." you leaned against the counter, resting your head in your hands so that you were eye-level with him. "They're not gonna go bankrupt over a $2 IPA, I promise."

"If you say so."  

You both exchanged the same small smile, his finger lightly running along the counter. "So," he cleared his throat, completely unsure of where to start. "How've you been?"

It was a loaded question, maybe even a dumb question considering how much time had passed, but he didn't care. He really did want to know how you'd been. What you'd been up to. What type of things you'd been writing about. What your Spotifty playlists looked like. What you did on your days off. He wanted to know everything. All of it.

"Well," you exhaled, trying to find an easy way to condense the last seven years of your life. "My parents..." your eyebrows furrowed, realizing that you'd never gotten the chance to tell him why you used to dread your old bus route so much. "My parents finally got divorced..."

“Oh shit, I’m sorry -"

“No,” You said swiftly, not wanting him to feel bad for asking. "It was more of a relief than anything. They used to fight, a lot. My mom wasn't always the nicest when she drank... It probably should've happened way sooner to be honest."

His breathing slowed as memories of you with tears in your eyes walking up your driveway smashed through his mind. He'd promised himself that he would ask you about it one day, but he had no idea it'd be this much later on. He'd wanted to talk to you about it as kids. Wanted to know what scared you so much about going home, but he didn't know how. It was the reason why he left journals on your desk. The reason why he never let you go without the next book in your series.

For everything he couldn't say, he tried to show. But he'd failed you on both accounts the day he disappeared.

"My parents separated my -" you paused, eyes dragging to his as you corrected yourself. "our graduation year."

He nodded, doing his best to digest the thought of you walking down the aisle in a cap and gown with the weight of your parents' downfall on your shoulders.

"But, after that," you smiled slightly. “I applied to college and got accepted. Started working here. Got my own apartment. And I don't know...” you shrugged, "I think in a weird way, things happened the way they were supposed to. It was like everything needed to fall apart before it got better, you know?"

He smiled back at you, your last sentence lingering in the space between you as he reached for your hand. He probably wouldn't have understood that sentiment a year ago, but watching your eyes widen while your fingers slowly tangled into his, he knew exactly what you meant now.

"I'm really sorry I wasn't there..." His thumb brushed against the side of your hand, steadying himself as he let 15-year-old him and 22-year-old him come together to say what they had both been holding onto for so long. "I didn't want to leave. I just -"

Your heart swelled in your chest, watching him blink back tears he wasn't prepared to shed. "Life got really hard for a really long time for me too. But, whenever I felt myself drifting... I thought of you. Thought of the way you'd glance at me from over your book during class. Thought of the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching. I thought of you... all the time. And it was like, no matter how dark things got, it reminded me that life could be good, because it was at one point. So..."

Your hand tightened around his, two sets of glossy eyes now staring back at each other as he forced himself to say what he should've years ago. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there, but... I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."

You were dizzy with emotion. Swimming through feelings that you'd kept buried for nearly the last decade. The thoughts you'd only been brave enough to write down. The overwhelming urge to kiss him again and again and again until neither one of you had any air left in your lungs.

Your mouth opened and then closed, your body saying more than you were capable of with how desperately you were holding onto him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Didn't have time to think or care about the repercussions of your impulsiveness.

"Hey Mai," You called out, "I'm really not feeling well. Think I'm gonna go home."

Yuuji's head was shaking no, but the surprised smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was saying otherwise. "What're you doing?" he whisper-shouted, watching you run around the bar to grab his hand again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mai yelled from the back, but it was too late.

You and Yuuji were already gone, practically sprinting alongside each other, laughing as you booked it across the parking lot.

"First the free beer and now this?"

"They won't go bankrupt over me missing one day." You winked. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

You may have been leading the way, but he was still the athlete between the two of you, purposefully slowing himself down to not be right on your heels. But when he noticed you starting to pant as the road curved into an upward slope, he reached out for you, gently spinning you around to face him.

"Come here." he knelt down, positioning himself so that you could easily wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

He carried you piggy-back style up the hill, the sun fading into an array of pink and orange as you pointed out every bookstore around campus, explaining which ones were your favorites and why. Promising to get matcha with him tomorrow at a local coffee shop you passed. Asking him about his time at Jujutsu High and trying to wrap your mind around what little he was able to tell you as he swore that he'd fill you in on the full story when the time was right. You caught him up on what he'd missed the last three years of high school and how your college classes had been going. You talked about libraries and ghosts and laughed about how in 7th grade he'd joined the occult club just because he thought it'd be an easy after-school credit.

By the time you'd finally reached the spot you'd wanted to show him, the moon had almost completely replaced the sun. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and your hands were full of a mixture of different flowers that he'd picked for you along the way.

"This is..." he trailed off, watching the sky shift into a deep blend of blue and silver. "Beautiful. How'd you even find this place?"

It was an abandoned park surrounded by overgrown trees that overlooked the city, only one rusted swing set left to its name. The hike you had to endure just to find it had more than likely been the cause of its demise, trekking up here with a backpack was hard enough, let alone a stroller.

"I kinda found it by accident." You shrugged. "I was working on an art project and needed a good view of the skyline. I looked up a bunch of different places online, but then I saw this spot and just knew."

Yuuji pulled off his hoodie, sweat trickling down his neck from the late-summer heat as the two of you sat in the grass, his arm gently wrapping around your waist.

There had been so many times you'd sat in this exact same spot by yourself, wondering what the odds were that you were both somehow looking up at the same star.

Your head rested on his shoulder, a warm gust of air swirling around you as you both looked out into the distance, watching the way the stars faded into the Tokyo lights.

"Hey, Yuuji?" You twirled a blade of grass between your fingers, not wanting to ruin the moment, but still needing to be sure.

"Yeah?"

"You promise, right?"

"Hm?" He could hear the concern in your voice, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

"You promise that... you're not leaving again?"

"I swear, I'm not going anywhere. And if I do," His eyes returned to yours, his free hand attentively resting under your chin. "I'm taking you with me."

You nodded, warmth washing over you as he traced along your jawline, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your fears were lost to his touch. Your worries dissolving into the sincerity of his voice. Your need for reassurance wholeheartedly met when his hand cupped your cheek and his lips finally caught yours. Seven years' worth of pent-up feelings pouring out between the two of you, hands roaming and little moans slipping out between breaths while you tugged on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He was gentle but eager. Soft but secure. Perfect, in every way.

He hovered over you, easing you onto the grass as he made a makeshift pillow out of his hoodie for you to rest your head on.

You smiled as his lips drifted from your mouth to your neck, his palm delicately traveling up your shirt, pulling your bra to the side while he helped slide your tank-top up over your head. He kissed your collarbones, whispering sweet little praises into your skin. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"

He rested a hand under your back, steadying you as his tongue flickered across your chest. He took his time, making sure to give each nipple the same amount of attention, still humming things like, "the prettiest girl I've ever seen" while his hand traced over your hip.

He tugged at the waistline of your shorts, looking up at you through his lashes as he began to leave featherlight kisses along the inside of your thigh, his blood racing at the sounds you were suddenly making.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

You whimpered out a broken "yes", practically dripping when his fingers spread you apart. He watched you writhe beneath him, drawing slow but firm circles around you. Trying not to lose himself to the way your legs were already shaking for him.

"Yuuji," you whined. "I -" his mouth was ghosting your center, his fingers still playing with your clit while he held you in place. "I n - need you." your voice was heady, lost somewhere in the clouds the faster he went. "I wanna f - feel you, so bad."

"Yeah?" He smiled, his breath still fanning across your core as his digits prodded carefully at your entrance. He groaned at how beautifully your walls swallowed him. "I wanna feel you too."

Your head lulled back, eyes pointed at the sky while your hand tangled into his pink hair. His mouth was warm and heavenly, his tongue running uppp and dowwnnn your center, saliva mixing with slick while his fingers plunged into you.

"Oh, fuck."

He only went deeper the louder you got, flattening his tongue against you with just the right pressure to keep you saying his name. His ring and middle finger hitting spots you'd never been able to reach yourself. You were clenching around him, your thighs locking around his head as you rocked against his tongue.

"Yuuji - you're gonna make me -" he thought it was adorable the way you struggled to get more than two words out at a time. "Fuck, I -"

"Mhmm, just like that."

He was in the same daze you were, sliding in and out of you feverishly until he finally felt the blissful release of your walls spasming around him. Your body suddenly unable to hold it in any longer as you gave him the privilege of really tasing you.

"Oh my god," he moaned, faithfully lapping up every bit of you he could get, only pulling away when you started begging for him.

"Yuuji -" It was needy and light-headed. "Come here, come here. Please."

The way he lifted his head up, smiling at you with your cum dripping down his chin made something inside you ache.

You pulled him towards you, desperately wrapping your legs around his waist as he began undoing the buttons on his pants. He kissed you, again and again and again, using it as a pleasant distraction while he wriggled himself free.

He took a breath, both of you watching in blitzed out awe as he lined himself up with you. "I love you." he whispered, your eyes widening from the blend of his words and the feeling of his tip slowly entering you. "Always have."

His hair brushed against your forehead as he parted your lips with his tongue, your nails digging into his neck with his first full thrust. You were so tight and warm around him.

He tried to ease into you, encouraging you while also making sure you were comfortable. His voice sweet as honey as he asked you things like, "Is that okay, baby?" and "Aw, you like when I go deep like that, huh?"

Your gaze locked with his, your eyebrows knitting together the faster his rhythm became.

You'd thought about this moment before. Thought about what it might feel like, but nothing could've prepared you for the way your heart would race at the sound of him moaning, "You're doing so good for me." The way he'd hold you, looking back at you with stars in his eyes as he filled every inch of you.

"Yuuji -"

"Let it out, baby. S'okay." He whispered, his hand reaching for yours. "I've got you."

Your vision was blurred by the feeling of his tip meeting your cervix, warm summer air brushing against your skin as you reached your breaking point.

"I love you." The words left your mouth so fast you barely had time to register them, but then... they wouldn't stop. It was the only phrase you remembered how to say. The only emotion you remembered how to feel. "I love you." you whimpered again, feeling yourself tighten around him as your confession became more frantic. "Oh - mygod, Yuuji. I love you. I love you. I love - you."

His movements were suddenly beyond his control, his body completely succumbing to the grip of yours. "Fuck, baby - I -" He didn't know if he should pull out. Didn't know if he could pull out. His head was everywhere, his mouth dropping open the longer he watched you.

Your legs locked around him in heady reassurance. "Mm'mm, d - don't stop." You panted. "Cum with me."

It was a sentence he'd only ever thought he'd be lucky enough to hear you say in his dreams.

His hips stilled after one more thrust, your walls holding him tight as he began to twitch inside you. His forehead pressed against yours, his arms struggling to keep him propped up.

You exchanged the same exhausted smirk, leaning up to kiss him while he carefully pulled out of you. A blend of fluids spilling out onto the grass beneath you as he laid by your side with his forearm over his face, trying to regain his composure.

There was a calm silence that settled between you, the both of you looking up at the stars before you rolled over to reach for your shorts, letting him catch his breath while you dug something out of the back pocket.

"Here." You said, unraveling a tangled pair of headphones and handing him one.

His eyes widened with the same curiosity they had 7 years ago as he held it to his ear, your head resting on his chest while a song he knew all too well flowed through the small speakers connecting you. A smile splitting across his face as he held you closer.

"You know, I think you were right." he exhaled, running light fingertips along your arm. "Everything did have to fall apart before it got better."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[batwritings]

Kinktober Day 12 - Hand Job

Horangi's turn! I really tried to do justice to him finding the balance of that inner peace. Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t exactly a secret amongst the KorTac group; you were defacto “mom teammate”. You made sure everyone had what they needed in regards to their care on the field before heading out. Sure, colonels like König could manage the technical and equipment side of things. The work you did was more from the mental headspace aspect.

Now, all this being said, you weren’t often seen showing the same amount of care to yourself. This fact certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Horangi. Having been in your position himself once upon a time, he made it his mission to get you to start to care for yourself. And that started in the form of a self care day.

This man had the works laid out for you. Different options upon options that were slightly overwhelming to see all at once that had your mind wondering if all those stereotypes about “Korean beauty standards” were a real thing. Thankfully for you, you weren’t going to be doing all of this at once.

The man starts with simple things, effectively having you be his guinea pig of sorts. He’d have you sit still for him to put certain things on, starting with your face and hands. It smelled…interesting, felt even stranger, and you were a bit relieved when it was removed.

“Feel your skin now,” Horangi instructed you, watching you intently for your reaction. You let your fingers run over your hands and face with a glimmer in your eyes. Never in your life had your skin felt so…well, nothing short of perfect.

“Never took you for one for the whole ‘beauty standard’ thing,” you admitted, looking over each bit that he’d paid attention to. You could see the self-satisfied smirk in your peripheral vision. Curious, you tilted your head. “What? Were you also previously a k-pop star?”

Horangi chuckled and shook his head. “Thankfully no,” he told you, a slight sadness in his voice. “What they have to go through to meet the standards of their managers is…” The man sat for a while, trying to choose the right words before he shook his head. “Anyway, no, I was never involved in the entertainment industry back home.”

You continued to watch his relaxed posture as he sat back against the head of your bed. “But it wasn’t just looks that got me allowed into places I probably shouldn’t have been,” he admits. You see his hand move and cover the slight bump in his sweatpants and instantly understand.

A smirk comes to your face now, slowly adjusting yourself to lay between his legs. “Really now?” you ask, voice seductive and amused all at once. “Why don’t you show me proof then?” 

There were a lot of things Hong-jin was, now that he had spent time in the military and especially with KorTac. Strong, courageous, selfless even; but he was also no stranger to feeding the beast inside him to keep it in line. Lightly calloused hands slide down the waistband of his sweats, pulling his member free. It was more impressive than you had initially thought, making your eyes widen just a bit. 

Instinct immediately told you “put your lips on it”, but you’re stopped almost as quickly as the thought came to you. “Use your hands only,” Horangi tells you softly. He sits back to keep his hands away and watch

You blink a bit, confused before you do as he asks. Your freshly cared for hand comes up to wrap around his member as you start a slow pace of stroking him. His pleased rumble sounds more akin to a purr, further attributing to his call sign. Part of you wants to give him grief, but you decide that can wait. 

You go with the motions for a while; up and down, up and down. You watched the man in front of you intently for every reaction. He seemed to particularly enjoy it when you ran your thumb over the tip, catching the pre-cum there as you went. 

“Ah…씨발,” Horangi huffs, hands fisting in the thin blanket of his cot. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’d done this before.” He tries to chuckle, but your roll your thumb and twist your hand just right and those pretty brown eyes are rolling back in pleasure.

You laugh a little at this. “Just a time or ten,” you tell him. Your other hand comes up to join the other, working his cock in a solid grip. You switch it up almost immediately, one hand continuing to love on the Korean man’s member while the other moved to fondle his tight balls.

The extra stimulation was more than enough for your caretaker of the day. Horangi came with a low groan, hips bucking up into your touch. He watched through half-lidded eyes at the mess he made across your hands, not wanting to leave the softness of your skin. Yet the telltale sensations of overstimulation began to rise, causing him to writhe in your grip.

You let go immediately, hopping up to find a tissue or washcloth to clean the two of you up with. “Looks like you may have to redo my hands,” you tease lightly as you clear both your skin and his of the mess. Horangi chuckles softly as he tucks himself away.

“Any time for you, 내 사랑.”

[thestarstoasun]

Will and Naomi Solace don't normally celebrate Easter considering the whole she slept with a Greek god, had a demigod child but could only tell her small-town religious family that she had a one nightstand and got pregnant thing. She had been told they still loved her but was still publicly shamed and shunned until she got famous for her music.

Will didn't think his grandparents, uncles, or aunts deserved his mom in their lives after what they put her through, but he figured if she could forgive them, he could too. Except they didn't know he was bisexual. They didn't know about Nico. Will had been all too willing to tell his sweet, loving, adoring mother about his boyfriend. He made sure Nico knew when he first brought it up that there was no rush, and just like when it came to everything, he was willing to wait forever. (Nico had actually stared at him in disbelief, and with the oh-so-noticeable red splashing across his pale skin muttered a quiet, "Idiota". Will didn't need to be fluent in Italian to know /that one/, even when he first heard it.)

Introducing Nico to his mother was a mistake, not because of any homophobia or monster attacks, but just how much they both love to embarrass him. His mother shares stories and shows pictures (which Will panics about because technology and demigods don't mix well) of a much younger and embarrassing Will, and by the look in Nico's eyes Will knows he is never living it down. In return, his mother learns of his embarrassing flirting in the middle of a war.

The memory was nice now, a year and a half later, especially since Will was currently on the verge of an entire mental breakdown. Being back in Texas had that effect on him. At camp, he locked away all panic, grief, loss, suffering in order to run the infirmary and be strong for his siblings, but here, he had no infirmary and no siblings. He could honestly care less of what these people thought of him - Lee's opinion had mattered, Michael's opinion had mattered, His mama's opinion matters, Nico's feelings and opinion matters. Hades, he cares more for Apollo's opinion than these people, and he was still struggling with his own complicated feelings towards his father - not that they ever showed outwardly.

Will was more worried that these people that shared blood with him would shame his and Nico's relationship and upset his boyfriend. Nico had suffered so much pain and suffering already, especially when it came to his sexuality and accepting that there wasn't anything wrong with himself for loving boys. Will was so proud of how far Nico had come and felt sick to his stomach at being an indirect cause of a relapse.

"You worry too much," The words sounded so beautiful that they must have been spoken by an angel. (They weren't, they were spoken by none other than Nico Di Angelo, but what can he say, he is Apollo's son. It is in his nature to be dramatic at least sometimes.)

"I don't think I worry enough. I mean, there is jus' so much that could go wrong. Mama-" Will shot Nico, who was failing to hide a wide smile, a curious expression unknowingly tilting his head slightly to the right. "What's so amusin' about this?"

"I think I finally understand what Lou Ellen meant when she called you a dog." Will stared blankly absolutely stunned out of his panic, his lips formed a small pout that was absolutely not adorable. Nico got up from where he sat comfortably on Will's bed and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist, resting his head on Will's shoulder. "Breathe. I'm already prepared to ditch this dinner and shadow-travel us both and your mother out somewhere nice at the slightest sign of trouble. Catholic guilt is a bitch, but I am done letting it, Gods, or anyone control my life."

Will felt both relieved and worried. Nico had learned so much about his boundaries with his powers over the last year, but it didn't mean Will didn't worry. "Is that why-?"

"Yes, that is why I slept so much today, il mio sole. Even before we left camp you were doing that nervous thing where you wrap bandages around your wrist. I figured something was bothering you and it had to do with our vacation. You love your mom, so it was obviously this dinner. I'm from the 30s, not an idiot, William, amore mio."

Will couldn't help but gently remove Nico's arm's from around him and sweep the boy off his feet. This frustrating, self-destructive, annoyingly attractive, smartass paid way too much attention to a simple healer such as himself, but Will couldn't imagine his life without Nico in it anymore. The half-hearted glare he received filled him with so much warmth and made him smile so wide it hurt, which in turn caused Nico to turn away to hide the slight upturn of his own lips.