#I think I’ll draw Bruno next | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrworldwideshoulders · 1 year

Text

give me novacaine || reader x myg

Lost and spiraling, Yoongi can’t stop himself from thinking about what he could have done differently to keep from losing you - if he'd been a better man, if he'd spent more time with you, if he'd been more affectionate, maybe he would have known sooner…and maybe he could have kept you from betraying him. Inspired by When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars.

Pairing: reader x MYG (if you can call it that); feat. JK and Hobi Word count: 5.6k Rating: M / R (18+) Genre: angst, breakup au Warnings: descriptions of cuts, blood, and broken glass, (extremely) foul language, hobi being an angel as usual, jk being kind of a badass A/N: hey there and welcome! this is the sequel to my fic bang bang (shameless plug) so i would definitely recommend reading that one first because you will probably be a bit confused if you don’t :) actually really enjoyed writing this one, so i hope you enjoy reading it just as much. beta’d and bannered as always by the amazing april (@onmypillow-onmytable)! thx! ly - robyn P.S. I do not own BTS or their likenesses, nor do I own the music of Bruno Mars (lol), they just inspire me.

part of the unorthodox jukebox collection (masterlist)

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” A soft touch on Yoongi’s cheek draws him out of his slumber and back into real life.

“Hmm,” he grumbles, reluctantly opening his eyes to find you next to him, smiling gently, pale morning sunlight illuminating you from behind like a halo. “You couldn’t let me sleep a few minutes longer?”

“I couldn’t help it,” you say. “I like seeing you right when you wake up, all grumpy and half-asleep. Like a cat.”

Yoongi can’t help but let out a small chuckle. “I’ll get you for that.” He reaches out a hand to pull you toward him, bringing your face mere inches away from his.

“Good morning,” you say softly, staring into his eyes.

“Good morning.” He presses his forehead against yours.

“I was just thinking…” You hesitate. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Min Yoongi.”

“Oh? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

You lean in suddenly, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “A good thing, of course. A very good thing.”

A crack of thunder sounds, jolting Yoongi awake. Rain beats against the full picture windows, fat drops streaming down like tears. He blinks, the insides of his eyelids feeling like full-grit sandpaper scraping against his corneas.

He wasn’t dead.

He was still very much alive. And on top of that, still dreaming about you, even though you were gone and every part of him that had once held love was filled with his hatred of you, his empty apartment still echoing with the sounds of your betrayal.

How unfortunate. Especially the part where he was still alive.

He sits up slowly, peeling the side of his face from the leather couch, and his head throbs so sharply and violently that his vision clouds. “Fucking hell,” Yoongi mutters, fingers digging into his pulsing temples, as if that would solve anything. He takes a glance around the room. The place is a mess. He struggles to his feet, swaying unsteadily as his vision starts to swim again. It’s dark still but just light enough to indicate that morning is on its way, ready to remind him that he’d been just stupid and just desperate enough to be taken in by your ruse. Something crunches underfoot as he’s feeling his way out of the room. He reaches down, feeling blindly for the source of the noise, and a sharp stabbing pain pierces into the soft, fleshy part of his hand. “Shit!” he snaps. It’s glass. Of fucking course it’s glass. The remnants of a whiskey bottle lay in pieces on the floor, and he remembered now, that he’d thrown it at the wall last night. Blood pools in the dip of his palm, the cut apparently deeper than it felt. “Perfect,” he says under his breath. “Just perfect.”

The water in the sink runs red for what feels like forever, but it finally stops long enough for him to disinfect it and wrap it in a swath of gauze and medical tape. The wrapping is sloppy, but it’ll keep everything in place for as long as it needs to. He’s struck suddenly by another memory.

“Ah, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. That hurts!” You’re supposed to be chopping vegetables for stir fry, but he looks over to see you gritting your teeth, a bloodstained dish towel wrapped around your hand.

“Let me see.” Yoongi reaches for the towel, but you nearly yank your hand away from him.

“No! I can’t.”

“Why not?” He reaches for it again.

“I’m afraid to look.” You squeeze your eyes shut while he unwraps the towel from your hand. Blood still oozes from a small but seemingly deep cut on your middle finger. “My finger is still there, right?”

“What finger? I don’t see a finger.”

Your eyes shoot open. “Yoongi! Come on.”

“Made you look.” He grins, pulling you over to the sink. “It’s just a little cut. Here, rinse it off first, and I’ll bandage it up for you.” You wait silently, wincing slightly as he dabs disinfectant on the cut. He wraps the bandage securely but not too tightly around your finger. “There.” Yoongi lifts your hand and kisses it gently. “Better?”

“Much,” you manage, cheeks coloring.

Could he have done more? He knows he should have – definitely could have – been better. On one hand, he’d tried, hadn’t he? He’d tried to be gentle and attentive, to go against all of his past experiences with women and relationships; his mother, for one, and her incessant stream of boyfriends, an array of different faces that were all the same, faces who would all sneer at him on his way out of the house and tell him to straighten up and respect his mother. He’d ended up something like her anyway, for a time, an near-ceaseless series of one night stands and unattached partners filtering in and out of his apartment for a good part of his early twenties – but that was different. You were different. He hadn't ever loved any of them the way he loved you. He'd tried to never let you see the side of him that could be angry and sometimes violent. On the other hand – he should have known better. It wasn’t like you were his first anything. He should have known that some women wanted more than just your time. They wanted to be doted upon, made to feel special, surprised with the occasional gift or dinner out on a random Tuesday – and he hadn’t done a very good job of that. He wasn’t good at giving gifts, unlike Hoseok, who somehow seemed to be able to intuit the perfect gift for someone within minutes. He hadn’t ever gotten the impression any of that was something you wanted, and it certainly wasn’t something he wanted, either. He hated those types of little grand gestures. They were sappy. Cringe-inducing. Unoriginal. All qualities he’d never considered himself to possess.

Was that really all it would have taken for you not to stab him in the back? A surprise date at the nicest restaurant in the city? Could a bouquet of flowers on a random Wednesday make you call it off with every other guy you were seeing? There was no way it could be that simple, could it? If it was, then maybe all of his teachers were right, and he really was the biggest idiot in South Korea, if he hadn't managed to figure that one out. Yoongi closes his eyes and lets out a short laugh, his bandaged hand still humming with pain. “I really must be a dumbass, huh, y/n?” he mutters. “Stupidest motherfucker on the planet. Is that what you wanted? Fucking flowers?”

He checks the time on his watch. Quarter to six. Too late to go back to bed and too early to go to work. Not even go-getter Jungkook shows up to work that early, and despite being in charge Yoongi is never there before eight or nine unless he has to be. Well, someone has to clean up the glass in the front room, and he can’t show up for work still reeking of whiskey. Jungkook does pretty much nothing but eat and work out in his spare time; he’ll throw Yoongi over one shoulder like a sack of flour and carry him back home to sleep it off if he so much as catches a whiff, so a shower is in order before he can go anywhere. It may not be much but he’s got to do something to keep his mind off you and all of the little things he did wrong.

The shower does little to improve his mood or his raging headache, but the show must go on, as they say, and he forces himself out the door shortly after eight. As glad as he is to have you and your lies out of his life, he has to admit his apartment feels empty without you, silent in a way that it hasn’t felt since the first time he invited you over. Once he’s at work he quickly sequesters himself in his office, the door shut firmly behind him, and an hour or so in only confirms what he knows already but doesn’t want to acknowledge: he’s not going to be getting much of anything done today. The rain is still beating a lull against his windows, the task at hand is long forgotten, and a nap is sounding more and more appealing by the second. His mind is already starting to drift, eyelids dropping shut like window shades.

There’s a quick rap at the door, and whoever is out there doesn’t even wait for a response before it opens. “Yoongi-ssi?” Jungkook's looming figure hovers tentatively in the doorway.

“Hm?” Yoongi barely lifts his head from where it’s propped on his good hand. “What, Jungkook?” He can’t even muster up the energy to bark at Jungkook like he usually does when he hesitates a second too long; he can only turn his head slightly and squint in the younger man’s direction.

“Is…everything okay?” Jungkook says finally, stepping further inside. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks for that,” mutters Yoongi, eyes still half-closed. “I’m fine. Go away.”

Jungkook ignores him. “You really don’t look so good, Yoongi. Are you sure you should be here right now?”

“I said I’m fine,” he snaps, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through his head. “Don’t you have work to be doing?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“So get out of my office and go do it, then.” Yoongi scowls. “I’m not paying you for your company.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says, eyebrows pinching in concern, “but, you know, I would understand if you wanted to take the rest of the day. We don’t really have a lot going on at the moment, just a couple of small cases. I can take care of things for a day or two. That’s kinda why you hired me, isn’t it?”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Yoongi lets out a heated sigh. “What I want is for you to leave me alone. Please,” he adds as an afterthought. “Just go away.”

Jungkook doesn’t budge, instead staying firmly rooted in front of the desk. “What happened, hyung?”

Yoongi doesn’t speak right away, knowing exactly what Jungkook is asking. “It’s over,” he murmurs. “She’s gone. That’s all you need to know. I don’t want to talk about it.” No need to tell him how you tried to defend yourself, even with the photographic evidence right in front of you, or any of the horrible things you both said to each other, or about the deafening silence that fell after you stormed out, the long night of beating himself up over every little regret that followed and trying to drown out the voices in his head.

He eyes Yoongi skeptically, gaze twitching from his face to his bandaged hand. “You didn’t do anything…crazy, did you?”

“Of course not,” he grumbles, shoving the injured hand under his desk. “Y/n L/n is still out there walking around on her own two hooves, I promise. Jesus, Kook, who do you think I am, huh? I may be impulsive but I’m not stupid enough to kill anyone.”

“Then…what did you do to your hand?”

“Broke a bottle. Sliced my hand open while I was trying to clean it up. Any more questions, or can we move on? I’m really not in the mood for this.”

“No, I guess not,” Jungkook says quietly, dropping his head to avoid eye contact. “I’m sorry. I know how you felt about her, but…it’s for the best.”

A rush of anger floods through him. No, you don’t. You don’t know how I felt. You don’t know what it’s like at all. Being unwanted, everyone, yourself included, wishing you would just disappear, then thinking finally, here’s someone who accepts you, someone who loves you, despite every bad thing you’ve ever done, only to have it all blow up in your face because she never loved you, she was only stringing you along for her own amusement. It’s mortifying. You don’t know anything. And I hope to God you never do. I hope you stay blissfully ignorant of the way real pain and heartbreak feels, because it’ll make you want to crawl into a hole and die. He doesn’t say any of what he’s thinking and simply shrugs. “What’s done is done. Like I said, I don’t really want to talk about it. Let’s get to work, huh?”

“Yeah. For sure.” Jungkook turns to leave, then hesitates. “She wasn’t a good person, Yoongi. I wouldn’t lose too much time thinking about her. There’ll be someone else one day. Someone who’ll be a better match for you than she ever was. I guarantee it.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi says, though it isn’t. “I’m already past it. Just go, okay? Close the door on your way out.” What is it with Jungkook and making promises he can’t keep? That’s his problem right there, guaranteeing this and that and hoping for the best when the only thing anyone’s guaranteed in life is death. For all Jungkook knows Yoongi is destined to die alone, just like you said, and even that would be more than he could have hoped for. Maybe you’re right, and no one will ever love him but you, not that you had ever really loved him anyway. He knows he’s hard to love: stubborn, ornery, a little too private for most people's liking. Spend most of your life getting knocked around the way he has and it's no wonder no one wants anything to do with him. He's damaged goods, after all. Scratches and dings everywhere. Too much baggage for even the most sainted person to deal with. Maybe he is better off alone. It’s lonely, but no one gets hurt that way. Hearts stay guarded, hearts stay intact. Is that the secret?

Almost as soon as Jungkook leaves, his phone vibrates on his desk. His number is private, which means it can only be one person. He sighs and allows the call through. “Yeah?”

"Yoongi-ah!" Hoseok's exuberantly cheerful voice breaks through the speakers. Yoongi has always wondered how one person can be in such good spirits all the time. "I'm glad I caught you. I was wondering, did you mean to call me last night?"

"No," says Yoongi. "Just an accident. Sorry.” What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"Huh. Okay." Now he sounds skeptical. He can almost see Hoseok’s face pursing into a frown. “Because I could have sworn I heard—”

“It was nothing, Hobi,” he says firmly. “I was drinking and I must have bumped your number or something. That’s all.”

“Drinking on a weeknight? Is everything okay?”

Damn it. Why does Hoseok have to know him so well? “Everything’s fine. Had a rough day at work yesterday. You know how it is.” Hoseok doesn’t know exactly what it is he does for a living, but he has some idea.

“Well…okay.” He can tell his friend still doesn’t believe him. “I guess I was imagining things. But, you know you can always talk to me, right? If there’s ever something you want to talk to me about. I’m here to listen.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Yoongi swallows hard, the words sticking in his throat.

Hoseok continues. "Anyway, while I’ve got you, I was going to ask if you wanted to come over for dinner sometime. It's been forever. Hyorin and I would love to see you. And when are you going to come see your godson? Junho has grown so much, you’d barely recognize him if you saw him.” Junho is what, six months old now? Hoseok and Hyorin had insisted on making him Junho’s godfather when he was born, despite Yoongi’s protests, saying there was no one better for the job than him. “Bring y/n with you. We’ve been dying to meet her. And I have to see for myself the woman who managed to crack through that tough outer shell of yours so quickly.” Hoseok likes to claim that it took a year’s worth of his mother’s lunches for Yoongi to crack even slightly, while for you it only took a matter of months to get right to the heart of things.

His words stab at Yoongi's chest like knives. “Uh…yeah. We’ll have to get together sometime.” Coward. The word floats in front of his eyes again, the same way it did last night when he hung up instead of talking to Hoseok. What kind of coward are you that you can’t even tell your best friend that it’s over, that she’s gone, that she played you for a fool? How long are you going to go on dodging him and letting him think everything is fine when it’s not? “About that,” says Yoongi. “Y/n and I – we broke up. Yesterday.”

“What?” Yoongi can tell Hoseok is genuinely floored by this. “Are you — really? What happened? Didn’t you say you were about to ask her to move in with you? Officially?”

Yoongi chuckles bitterly. “We discovered some, uh, irreconcilable differences. And she cheated on me. With multiple people.”

"Yoongi..." Hoseok sighs. "I'm sorry. I wouldn’t have said anything if I’d known. You doing okay?"

“Oh, I'm fine,” Yoongi says dismissively. "I'll get through it, I always do. You know me. Anyway, better to have that all out in the open now than later, right?” He can’t even force himself to imagine what it would be like if they’d been married. At least ten times worse, probably. Would he have ever even wanted to be married to you? He’d barely even begun to think about the possibility, to picture what it would be like to have you as his wife, to start a family with you. A happy little family, something he’d never had before. The very idea repulses him now.

“You don’t have to hide it, you know.” Hoseok seems to know something he isn’t letting on. “It’s okay to be upset. That was a shitty thing for her to do. It’s a shitty thing for anyone to do. You wouldn’t be the only one to—”

“Aish, seriously, I’m fine.” Yoongi rubs at his forehead in frustration, unwilling to admit that Hoseok is absolutely right. “I knew it was all going to come to an end sooner or later. Everything does for me. It just came sooner than I expected.”

Hoseok pauses momentarily, and for a second Yoongi wonders if maybe he’s gone too dark on him. ”Listen, why don’t you come over tonight instead?” Hoseok says finally. “Hyorin is making dakgalbi. I know it’s your favorite, and she always makes enough to feed the entire military. You should come. We can catch up. What do you think?”

Yoongi lets out a humorless laugh. “Your wife, who likes me for some reason, just so happens to be making dakgalbi the day after I find out my girlfriend has been cheating on me for the better part of our relationship? Almost sounds too good to be true.” Just as it had been for someone like you to have any real interest in him at all. Too good to be true.

“It must be fate then.” He pictures Hoseok shrugging. “And you shouldn’t argue with fate, right?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll take my chances. I’ve managed so far, haven’t I?” Managed to screw everything up and drive everyone who matters away from you, he thinks. “I don’t think I’d be very good company right now, anyway.”

“Okay, well, if you won’t come over for dinner, I’ll bring you leftovers tomorrow. How about that?” Hoseok is just the same as he’s always been: trying to take care of Yoongi when it should really be the other way around. He must have had such a glowing, happy childhood to end up this kind and caring as an adult. How had a fuckup like Yoongi ever managed to become friends with someone as pure as Hoseok?

“Fine,” he relents. “You do that. But call first, okay?”

“Of course.” Voices sound behind him on the other end of the line. “Listen, I’ve got to go now, but we’ll talk tomorrow, all right? And Yoongi?”

“What?”

“It’s not your fault. I know it hurts right now, but she chose to cheat all on her own. You didn’t make her do it. So cut yourself some slack, okay? Someday it’ll all work out.” Why does everyone keep trying to tell him that? It’s all just empty platitudes anyway. Nothing works out for him. It never has. In fact, it’s surprising that his own company hasn’t crashed and burned yet.

He hears your scornful voice in his ears again. If you’d paid more attention to me, you would have figured it out sooner. You don’t care. You never cared. Would Hoseok still be saying that if he knew the whole story about what I was doing back then? Yoongi wonders. Would he still choose to see only the good in me? Would he still be willing to call me his friend? Godfather to his firstborn child? Anything at all? “Yeah, right. I’m sure. Thanks anyway.”

“I’m your best friend. It’s what I’m here for.” Hoseok hangs up.“You’re my only friend,” mutters Yoongi dryly, long after the line has gone dead.

He should not be doing this. Not today. But he’d insisted to Jungkook that he was fine, and being fine meant leaving the office for a few hours to do some surveillance for a case they were working. It wasn’t as if Jungkook had forced him; if anything he’d basically told him that he could handle it on his own, as he’d been saying all morning, but that it was easier for two people than one, just in case anything happened. Yoongi had decided to come anyway, his headache having tapered off some, and the distraction would – hopefully – keep his mind off everything, namely you. He was beginning to regret that decision, almost as soon as he’d made it. The rain still hadn’t let up, and the guy they were supposed to be tailing hadn’t moved from his table at the cafe where he’d been sitting for the past forty-five minutes. It was hard to believe that the client thought that this guy was even a threat to their personal safety – but a job was a job, and a paranoid client with deep pockets was better than no client at all.

How things had changed in the past ten years of his life. Ten years ago he was still pickpocketing people like his client, on top of working long, miserable hours in the kitchen of some god-awful restaurant, having to scrape just to put food in his mouth and pay the rent on his tiny shithole of an apartment. Of course his mother had been no help; she’d been the one to kick him out in the first place, claiming she’d already done her duty by allowing him to live rent-free under her roof for nineteen years, as if he were just some freeloading roommate and not her son. Yoongi’s thievery had started innocently enough, as innocent as lifting wallets off unsuspecting people could be. A means to an end. That was all it was ever supposed to be, a way to supplement his measly paycheck when things were tight. Then the wrong people had taken notice of his talents, turning it into something far bigger and far darker than he had ever intended for it to be, and sending him hurtling down a path he’d never wanted to venture down, but found himself unable to stop until it was almost too late. Was it his fault, then, that things had ended up this way? All of his past transgressions, everything he’d done and regretted now, falling in love with someone who would never truly be his in any capacity - had all of that been preordained the moment he lifted that first wallet in Gangnam Station? Yoongi was starting to think you might be right, that no matter how much good he did, no matter how many people he protected and thefts he prevented, he would always remain the same on the inside. He could put on an expensive suit and cut his hair and act like he was doing it all for the greater good, but deep down he’d always know it was just that: an act. He was, in the purest sense of the word, a fraud. Just as you had said. A fraud, a liar, and a thief.

What if you did decide to go back on your word? What if you told everyone – his clients, his colleagues, his friends – about how he’d gotten to be where he was? Would it make any difference? He’d threatened to reveal it himself – but would he? Could he allow everything he’d so carefully built to come crumbling down like a house of cards? If any of that happened he would be right back where he started ten years ago. Alone. Hoseok probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him if he knew what Yoongi had done to get by, certainly wouldn’t want him anywhere near his wife and son. Jungkook, perhaps, could be counted on to stick around, but Yoongi wasn’t holding his breath. Maybe that would be a good thing. No more secrets. No more lies. No friends or associates. A fresh start.

“Yoongi-ssi?” Jungkook’s voice crackled in his earpiece, startling him back into reality. “Status report?”

Yoongi glanced up at the man’s table, which was currently being bussed – because it was empty. “Fuck!” he swore under his breath, hurrying out onto the street.

“Something happen?” says Jungkook.

Yoongi sighs angrily. “Something happened, all right. I lost him, Kook.” The guy might not have been dangerous, but he’d walked away right in front of him – and Yoongi hadn’t even noticed because he was lost in his head, daydreaming about the past. How stupid did he have to be to let that happen? “He was there two minutes ago, I swear.”

“Shit,” he hears Jungkook mutter. “Well, he’s on foot, he can’t have gotten far. I’m in the area. Let me see what I can do.” Jungkook goes silent.

Yoongi paces on the sidewalk, unsure what to do with himself. He’s never lost a tail before, not like this. Not even someone trying to lose themselves in a crowd could shake him off. He’s useless. Especially today. The rain pours, pelting painfully against his skin.

Pathetic, sneers your voice in his head again. I thought you were supposed to be good at this.

“Got him.” His colleague’s triumphant voice finally breaks through after what seems like an eternity. “Headed for the subway station. We’ll probably lose contact once I’m underground, so I’ll touch base once I’m topside again.”

He used to wonder where Jungkook would be without him – probably still working for the gangster his father owed money to, still under the guise that he’d be dismissed whenever the debt was paid – but now Yoongi wonders where he’d be without Jungkook. The kid is too good for this business, he thinks, and should really be doing something more honorable with his skills. Police work, maybe, or working in intelligence, not private security. Something entirely unrelated, even. He’s far too talented to waste his life working for someone like Yoongi. “Good.” He exhales a sigh of relief, pinching at the space between his eyes. “Stay on him.” Jungkook doesn’t need him, not anymore. Maybe he never did. Maybe that was just something he’d always told himself to make himself feel better about essentially hijacking the trajectory of Jungkook’s life. “You going to be alright if I head home? I don’t think I’m going to be much use here.”

“I’ll be fine, but…” Jungkook sounds like he wants to say something else but holds back. “Okay. Have a good night, boss. I’ll update you when I get back to the office.”

“Thanks.” says Yoongi gruffly. “And…I’m sorry.”

"Don't worry about it," says Jungkook. "I've been telling you to go home all day. Go on, I've got this covered."

Yoongi chuckles wryly before he pulls his earpiece out. Home. That might be the last place on earth he wants to be right now. But where else is he going to go?

It’s been a long day. A very long day. One with a lot of thinking, and still more to go. The front room is back in order and dark shadows are beginning to fall around him as the rainy afternoon gradually fades into night. He's staring out at the city skyline, lights blinking on one by one like stars, contemplating his next move when his phone vibrates. Jungkook, presumably with an update on today's subject. "Nothing too interesting to report. You were right, the guy’s harmless."

"Hah," Yoongi scoffs. "I wouldn't take my word for it."

"I'll keep an eye on him," says Jungkook, "and let you know if anything else comes up."

"Sounds good." Yoongi hesitates. "Listen, Jungkook…about earlier. I'm thinking about taking some time off work. Do you think you could handle things for a while?"

"Of course I can. But how long is a while?"

"I don’t know. Indefinitely?" The line goes silent and Yoongi is momentarily afraid that he's lost him. "Kook, you still there?"

"Yeah. Still here." Jungkook sounds stunned. "I was trying to figure out if you just said what I think you just said. You said indefinitely, right?"

"As in, I'm not sure when I'll be back? No, you heard me right."

"Well…why?" He pictures the puzzled look on Jungkook’s face, eyes widening, eyebrows scooting together in confusion.

Yoongi lets out a sigh and stares down, examining the bandage on his hand. “Got some things to sort out. I’m not sure that I can trust myself right now, and I don’t think I should be doing this when I can’t even trust my own judgment. It’s risky for all of us. Someone could get hurt.” That’s all he wants. Just once in his life, for people to stop getting hurt because of him.

“Right. I understand that, and I recognize what you’re doing, but Yoongi, you know what you’re asking, don’t you? A couple of days is one thing, but I have no idea how to run things for that long. Especially when I don’t know when you’ll be back. You know I don’t mind doing it, it’s just…a really big ask.”

“I’ll be back, Jungkook. It’s not like I won’t.” Yoongi chuckles. “You’re the only one that’s qualified. And you’re the only one I trust to do this. I can trust you, right?” The question is almost rhetorical. The kid has more than proven himself in the whole time he’s known him.

He hears Jungkook take a deep breath. “Of course. You can count on me, hyung. I’ve got this.”

“That’s good to hear.” Yoongi does feel bad about leaving it all on Jungkook to pick up the slack, but he knows he can handle it. Things will be just fine without him, at least for a while. Everything always has been. Black Swan might even be better off with Jungkook at the helm instead of him. “I’m sorry for dropping this on you at the last minute.”

“Please,” Jungkook scoffs. “I told you, I’ve got this.” His voice changes, growing softer, less brash. “So…what will you do while you’re gone?”

“Hm. Not sure yet.” Yoongi smiles faintly. “You know, I’ve never really been on a vacation. Maybe I’ll leave the city, go somewhere sunny. Tropical and warm. Maybe the mountains.”

“That’ll be nice.” There’s a beat of silence. “So…this is it, then,” Jungkook says. “You’re really going.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now, Kook,” says Yoongi briskly. “I’m your boss. We’re not really friends, are we?” They’re not friends, not just colleagues. They’re partners. Is that really any different?

“Yeah. Sorry. Well, good luck, boss. I’ll be here, as long as you need me to be. I hope you get everything figured out.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi heaves another sigh. “Me too. Goodbye, Jungkook. I’ll be in touch.” He hangs up before Jungkook can get any sappier on him and stares down at his hands again. He’ll leave town, maybe in a few days or so, go somewhere far away and stay there until it feels right to come back. But there’s one last thing he has to do tonight before he can go anywhere.

The door in front of him swings open, and the savory smell of stir-fried chicken wafts out. “Yoongi?” Hoseok looks him up and down, taking in Yoongi’s rain-soaked appearance. “What are you – did you walk here? It’s pouring out. You’ll get sick.” Same old Hoseok, the mother he never had.

“Hobi,” he says, ignoring his friend’s fussing. “Sorry I didn’t call first, but I was in the neighborhood and I got to wondering…does that dinner invitation still stand?”

“Always, but…” Hoseok falters. “I thought you said—”

“You know I can’t resist free food.” Yoongi smirks. “And…” He hesitates. His past is dark, littered with thorns and broken glass, winding paths to hell built upon good intentions. He can’t change that. But he can change his present – his future, too. And it starts with being honest with the people around him, whatever the fallout may be. No more secrets. No more lies. Especially to the people he cares about. “I decided I could really use someone to talk to.”

“Okay, well – get in here, then.” Hoseok pulls him inside, where it’s warm and bright and filled with life. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

Things will be better without you. Not now, but eventually. Maybe someday it will all work out like everyone keeps trying to tell him. Maybe there is still happiness to be found in this life.

#mrworldwideshoulders #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts series #bts x reader #bts au #reader x yoongi #reader x suga #reader x min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x reader #breakup au #bts x you

91 notes · View notes

foggyfanfic · 6 months

Text

Mirabel's Super Secret Adventure

Movie AU

Chapter Preview: Dolores blinked, a glimmer of something passing over her face before it went blank. Mirabel waited, but Dolores didn’t respond.

“Oh come on, you have to know something! Tío Bruno and Tía Leandra were talking about it just last night. And there’s no way you haven’t heard Tío Bruno wandering in the walls,” Mirabel pressed.

Prologue Prev Next Masterlist

4. Hear No Evil

Mirabel dropped the bundle of clothes off in her room then rushed out the door. She needed to talk to Dolores pronto, not because she had some sort of deadline, but because the mystery of it all was the most interesting thing to have happened to her ever.

She made it two steps out of her room and almost barreled into Abuela.

“Oh,” she quickly took a step back.

“Mirabel, careful,” Abuela admonished, “you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Right, sorry Abuela.”

“Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“Oh, um, I actually wanted to talk to you!” Mirabel put on her biggest grin, “Luisa and I wanted to have a cousins’ day in her pool next week, to welcome Mariano into the family.”

“What a marvelous idea,” Abuela clapped her hands together once, “I will talk to Luisa tonight, so we can iron out the details.”

“Um, I-I could plan it,” Mirabel said, daring to hope for a second, even though she knew what Abuela was going to say next.

“Oh no Mirabel, don’t trouble yourself, Luisa and I will take care of everything.”

“But-.”

“Now, aren’t you supposed to be getting some rest?” Abuela asked, gently putting her hand on Mirabel’s shoulder to guide her back towards the nursery.

“I-.”

“Sleep well,” she said with a warm smile as she bustled off to get things done. Mirabel watched her go, then sighed deeply. It was for the best, she told herself, she had stuff to do anyways.

Once Abuela was gone, Mirabel turned to the nearest wall and asked, “Alright Casita, where’s Dolores?”

Casita shook the floorboards one by one, leading up to Dolores’ door. Mirabel took a deep breath, reminded herself she had a mystery to solve, and jogged over to the door. She knocked out a little tune besides Dolores’ face, reclaiming some of her dampened enthusiasm.

Then she waited.

It took long enough that Mirabel had already raised her hand to knock again, when the door opened, revealing Tío Bruno.

“Tío Bruno,” Mirabel gasped, then tried to cover her shock by leaning against the railing and asking, “‘sup?”

Tío Bruno blinked owlishly at her for a couple beats, then shrugged his shoulders minutely and said, “Not much.”

“Right,” Mirabel nodded, and gave her uncle finger guns.

“Did uh, did you want to talk to Dolores?”

“I- sí, b-but I mean I can come back if-.”

“No,” Dolores suddenly appeared behind Tío Bruno, “Tío Bruno was just heading out.”

“Dolores,” Bruno sighed, a note of warning in his voice.

“Thank you, Tío Bruno, but I’m fine,” she said, quiet as ever, but nonetheless firm.

Tío Bruno huffed, and walked away grumbling, “At this rate I might as well change my name to Cassandra.”

Mirabel couldn’t help but give him a sympathetic smile as he passed her by, which he returned with a sort of exhausted fondness. When she looked back at Dolores, she was staring after Bruno, brows furrowed and eyes shiny.

Then, very abruptly, Dolores turned to Mirabel and said, “If this is about the pool party, I’ll have to sit it out. I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Oh, actually I wanted to ask-. Um. I mean, we can push it back a week so you-.”

“That’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sí.”

“Bien,” Mirabel said slowly, drawing the single syllable out so Dolores would have a chance to change her mind.

Instead, Dolores asked, “You wanted to talk about something else?”

“Oh, um, yeah. I-,” it took a beat for her to get her mind back on track, “what do you know about the cracks?”

Dolores blinked, a glimmer of something passing over her face before it went blank. Mirabel waited, but Dolores didn’t respond.

Dolores sighed through her nose, “I know that Tío Bruno can’t figure out what’s causing them. He’s come up with hundreds of theories since-, over the years.”

“Anything else?”

Dolores shook her head minutely, eyes flicking beyond Mirabel’s shoulder then back to her face. Mirabel looked behind her, but couldn’t tell what Dolores had glanced at. All she saw was the opposite wall and the nursery door.

“How long ago did they start appearing?” Mirabel asked.

She shrugged, “They were already happening the day I got my gift. But they used to close before anyone noticed them, I thought it was just-. Casita doesn’t seem to mind so I didn’t think there was anything wrong until Tío Bruno started looking for them.”

“When did he start looking for them?”

Instead of answering the question, she frowned, staring at Mirabel for a long time. Suddenly she stepped back into her room and held the door open. Slowly, feeling a bit unsure, Mirabel walked through the door.

Dolores’ room was the epitome of coziness, most of it was covered in soft surfaces such as floor rugs, throw blankets, and tapestries. Somewhere behind one of those tapestries was what Camilo jokingly referred to as Dolores’ Sanctum of Silence, but nobody knew which one. And if somebody did happen to find the secret entrance, it would change locations. It made for a room that felt as quiet and secretive as Dolores herself.

The only exception was the airy window seat crammed between two bookshelves on the wall farthest from the door.

When the door was gently closed behind her, Mirabel turned to give her cousin an expectant look, only to find Dolores staring contemplatively at her hand on the doorknob.

“When I first got my gift, Tío Bruno told Má not to let me listen to the Floréz farm. When she asked why, he told her that the eldest Floréz and his wife had been tricking Tío Bruno into having visions of them having sex ever since they got married,” she said, without looking up.

“What? Why?!”

“Some people like being watched, or listened to,” Dolores said, casually, as if this was no big deal, then she continued, “they started calling my name, saying they had a message for Abuela about the monthly coffee delivery or something, anything to get me to listen to them. I would tell my Má and she would thunder, drowning everything else out. One day Pá went over to their house and after that they never did it again, but they also stopped giving us our monthly order of coffee.”

“That’s horrible,” Mirabel whispered.

Dolores just shrugged, she had a little bit more to tell, “Abuela figured out they were mad at us and demanded to know why. Má and Papa were worried about how she would take… whatever it is Pá did to make them stop. Then… Tío Bruno told her it was because he’d given them a bad vision. She made him apologize to them.”

Dolores paused for a long time, and Mirabel stood there, waiting. She knew Dolores must have some point, some reason for telling her this. Although she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it.

“Tío Bruno-. At the time I didn’t know why he did that, and I didn’t understand why he had to apologize. Even if he had given them a bad vision, it wouldn’t have been his fault,” Dolores finally looked up at Mirabel, giving her an intense look, “but it doesn’t matter if something is his fault, he’ll always be blamed anyways. That’s what happens when-, if you can’t live up to the village's expectations…”

Mirabel examined Dolores’ face, knowing her cousin was trying to tell her something, but not sure what. Dolores stared back, as if waiting for Mirabel to have an epiphany. Then she sighed and looked away again.

“Mirabel, let Tío Bruno worry about the cracks,” Dolores opened her door again, a clear dismissal, “for as long as you can.”

Mirabel’s feet carried her forward, through the door, even though she had about a hundred more questions. It was clear from the look on Dolores’ face that there would be no answers. The second Mirabel was out of the room, the door snapped shut behind her.

She stood, dumbfounded and twice as confused as she had been minutes ago.

Eventually, she came to the conclusion that she had no other choice. Luisa’s room had been a bust, Dolores wasn’t helping, so she may as well try Isabela. She just needed to find her first.

When Mirabel knocked on Isabela’s door there was no answer, but she was pretty sure Isabela’s only chore for the day was to stay home and get ready to be proposed to. So where else would Isabella go? She wasn’t in the kitchen, nor the back garden. Camilo was gone for the day so she wasn’t hanging out with him.

She asked Casita, but Casita just directed her back to the back door, so Mirabel checked the garden again. Still no primadona big sisters.

Mirabel looked over at Tía Leandra’s soap making shed. Apparently she used to have a soap making cave in Tío Bruno’s tower, but hadn’t had a way to keep young children out of it. Nobody felt great about having large amounts of lye sitting around the house where any small child might find it, so Casita had made a shed in the back garden that Tía Leandra kept locked when she wasn’t using it. She sold the soap in the market, one of the few sources of actual money for the Madrigal family.

The village generally traded for most everything, and most agreed that Julieta standing around the town square, healing people all day was worth a regular supply of things like fruit, vegetables, flour, and other such staples. For non-essentials like coffee (although Tío Bruno had made a pretty good case for coffee being considered an essential) Tía Pepa traded rainy days and sunshine. The non-essentials required more negotiating than the essentials, but not near as much as things like fabric and furniture, that stuff was given mostly in exchange for Luisa’s help around the village or visions from Tío Bruno.

In addition to bringing in some cash, Tía Leandra made all the soap the family needed, and had a close relationship with the goat herder since he’d apprenticed under her father, thus getting them free cheese. Tío Félix was technically supposed to inherit the mill, but had agreed to let his little brother, Felípe, take it so long as the Madrigals got a cut of the mill's profits. Her Pá was the son of an accountant (and the town’s de facto treasurer) and often traded his financial expertise for whatever his “clients”, mostly the town merchants, could offer. And recently, Camilo had taken to trading his time as a babysitter in a similar vein. But the main breadwinner in the family was actually Tío Bruno.

Once a month he invited anyone in the village who wished to attend to watch a future scientific discovery in the sandy riverbed. At the end, if he had the energy, he would allow the audience to vote on a previous vision to re-watch. Since the tablet would be a duplicate he didn’t feel bad smashing it up and selling it to either the local jeweler or the town’s merchants.

If Mirabel could, she would happily sell some of her embroidery to help support the family, but any time she brought it up Abuela told her not to worry about it. It was all Mirabel could do to get Abuela to let her help with the family’s tailoring needs.

Mirabel and Isabela used to spend a lot of time in Tía Leandra’s shed, Isabela growing whatever herbs Mirabel demanded so they could experiment with different combinations (under close adult supervision from their Tía, of course). But that was a long time ago, back when Isabela was still nice to her.

The shed was unlocked, the door slightly ajar. It was sort of a long shot, but it was possible Isabela was helping their Tía make her soaps.

So, Mirabel drifted closer, reaching for the door.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Tía Leandra said to somebody inside.

Then, just as Mirabel’s fingers grazed the door handle she heard Isabela say in a defensive tone, “I’m not saying there is! I just… if Tío Bruno likes both, then I could like both too.”

Mirabel frowned, cocking her head. Like both of what?

“You could like both, true, but do you?”

“I-. Why are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“Because you’re my niece and I love you and I want you to be happy,” Tía Leandra said, her voice strained with how much pleading she’d imbued into it.

“I will be happy, Mariano is a great guy.”

Mirabel’s eyebrows almost jumped off her face.

“He is, sí. A bit thick for my taste, but there isn’t a shred of malice in his entire meaty body. But that’s not in question here. The question on the table is, do you want to marry him?”

Then there was a long resounding silence. Mirabel kept waiting for Isabela to say yes, of course she wanted to marry Mariano, she was in love with him. However after five seconds of silence, she realized that answer wasn’t coming.

After ten seconds of silence, Isabela sighed, “Well, it’s not like I can marry-. Mariano is my friend, a-and he’ll make a good father. And it’s what’s best for the Encanto.”

“Ay, so you’ve said, but that’s-. You know what! You need another perspective, you need to talk to somebody your own age about this,” Tía Leandra said, voice suddenly very bright and cheerful, “how about you talk to Dolores! Tell her you’re not in love with him.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Dolores has been, I don’t know, she’s been really sad about something lately. She won’t tell me what,” Isabela hedged, “I don’t want to pile my problems onto her too.”

There was another long pause.

“Um, Tía, are you alright?”

“Fantastic,” Tía Leandra said, voice too high and cheery to be genuine, “will you excuse me, I need to have a conversation with my husband about something.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone, right? You and Tío Bruno promised.”

There was a very noisy sigh, that may or may not have been released through Tía Leandra’s teeth, “No, but I think you should. Starting with Dolores. Excuse me.”

Mirabel should have realized that Tía Leandra essentially saying “excuse me while I go talk to Bruno” meant she was about to open the door and walk out of the shed. She should have moved out of the way if she didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping. She should have walked away the second she realized how private this conversation was.

But she didn’t.

So, when Tía Leandra opened the door with a box of finished soaps on her wide shoulder and Isabela trailing at her heels, Mirabel was standing dumbstruck.

Mirabel gaped at Isabela.

Isabela stared back in horror.

Unnoticed by either of them, Tía Leandra looked heavenward and mouthed “Gracias.”

Then the shouting began.

#Mirabel Madrigal #Dolores Madrigal #Isabela Madrigal #Encanto #Encanto AU #Bruno Madrigal #allusions to queer Bruno #implied WLW Isabela #seriously I don't want to tag them with modern US labels #because different time and place so who knows what labels they'd use #but I might give in and tag them with modern labels anyways #just to make it easier on anybody that has that stuff blacklisted

6 notes · View notes

cophene · 11 months

Text

𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎 | vento aureo; twenty-nine.

✦.⁺ hamartia.

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents

pairing : vento aureo x gn reader summary : a college student tries getting the attention of some of the most admired and attractive people on campus, only to get caught up with stands and vigilante groups in the process. notes : modern au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.2k+

═ ☆. A LINE OF CRYSTAL ICE SPREAD from the tear in the infirmary to a point in the sea. It sparkled in the dim light, incongruous against the dark black of the ocean. A slight wind blew back Giorno’s hair as he frowned intensely down at Narancia, Gold Experience moving to stitch together his flesh and muscle as he lay prone on a cot.

He had spent months working on this ability of his Stand. It made sense that if Gold Experience could create plants and animals, it could heal injuries. On some level, cells were also living things, weren’t they? Practicing on small cuts, Giorno found his Stand was able to create new skin, practically indistinguishable from the skin his body would have made itself. Perhaps the only drawback was that the pain remained, even if the injury was healed.

Creating entire parts of limbs was taxing. It took immense focus and energy on Giorno’s part. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shoulder, Gold Experience running its hands down Narancia’s now-smooth arm. Giorno felt wrung-out and drained, but there was still work to be done. He wasn’t naive enough to think that Trish, Abbacchio, Bruno and (y/n) wouldn’t sustain injuries dealing with the Stand mass.

He had learned its name from Prosciutto. Notorious B.I.G. It was a fitting name that he might have chuckled about any other time.

Risotto had been easy enough to heal. Rest was probably the only thing he needed to get back on his feet. Narancia and Mista had been harder, but at least their injuries were only surface-level, not deep enough to harm muscle. Even Caprese, as ghastly as he looked, had only needed healing on his arms and legs. Giorno had nearly forgotten about him until Prosciutto hauled him in from the hallway. He was in one of the guest rooms now, where some freshmen would probably find him and assume he’d gotten into a fight somewhere.

Giorno was particularly worried about Fugo, the welts and bubbles on his skin. He had waited for as long as he could before going in, for fear of Purple Haze’s lingering fog. The two of them had spoken about the possibility of creating some sort of antidote for his Stand’s virus. They’d sent a snake that Giorno had made from Gold Experience into the Purple Haze’s mist in the hope of using the venom somehow. Hopefully Vanilla Ice would be able to find the vial in his room and bring it quickly.

“Anything?” he called to Melone by the window.

Melone shook his head. “Ghiaccio still isn’t back yet. They must have gone farther than we thought.”

They would have had to, in order for the waves to be fast enough to draw away the Stand. Giorno forced himself to move to pick up the bandages and replace the scattered medical paraphernalia. Worrying about them wouldn’t do any good.

In a flash of surprising pragmatism, Formaggio had rounded up the other notable members of Giorno’s vigilante group after he’d seen the mass. In curt, tense words, Giorno had laid everything out for them, Signor D’s attempted murder-spree and their half-baked plan to get rid of the Signor’s Stand. He had ordered Ghiaccio and Illuso to use their Stands to find the boat on the ocean. Formaggio, Prosciutto and Melone stayed behind to get everyone onto a cot and to try to help Giorno the best they could. Bloody bandages and gauze littered the floor. Giorno kept waiting for the nurse to return to the infirmary, but he never did.

“You should take a break,” said Prosciutto. “You’ve been working non-stop. You’ll collapse at this rate.”

Giorno shrugged off his tuxedo jacket. “I’ll be fine. If I leave them for much longer, someone might see. We need to keep this under wraps.”

“No one will come up here,” Formaggio said. “We told everyone you and the elites wanted privacy. They think you’re playing strip poker.”

Giorno smiled bitterly. If only.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Formaggio was right. He felt faint, black spots dancing across his vision. A part of his mind kept straying to the boat. If something had happened to them out there, would he have the strength to heal them at this point?

“They’re back!” Melone gasped.

Giorno immediately ran for the tear from Sticky Fingers. Ghiaccio was pushing the remains of a boat across the expanse of ice he’d made. Giorno quickly spied Bruno and Abbacchio, drenched but unhurt. Bruno was carrying Trish over his back, her head lolling against his shoulder. Dark bruises crossed her neck and Giorno scowled to think of Notorious wrapping itself around Spice Girl.

“Where’s (y/n)?” Giorno’s voice was dry and he coughed to clear it.

Abbacchio tossed something to Giorno. He scrambled to catch it. “They’re with Illuso in his mirror world. It seemed safer for them there.”

While Melone and Formaggio helped everyone back into the infirmary, Giorno opened the little hand mirror. He caught a glimpse of Man in the Mirror before the Stand dragged him through the portal.

Illuso’s mirror world was quiet. Peaceful. The cots were empty, the piles of bloody bandages nowhere to be found. The shredded door frame and tear in the wall were gone too. There was only Illuso and (y/n)’s body lying on a cot.

“Are they alright?” Giorno asked, working hard to keep his voice from cracking.

Illuso was grave. “It’s bad, Giorno. They—I can barely feel a pulse.”

Giorno’s face was impassive as he looked (y/n). Inside, though, his heart wrenched painfully. What had (y/n) done to themself? Their body was a horrifying mess, barely holding itself together. They had been ripped apart like a paper doll. Giorno felt a sob rise in his throat.

(Y/n) couldn’t have survived this. Notorious B.I.G. had torn into White Satin, shredding it. The image was morbidly clear in his mind.

Giorno reached a hand toward (y/n), then stopped.

“Oh god,” he whispered. “What am I supposed to do?”

Gold Experience couldn’t fix this. There was too much. There was too little. He would wrench whatever life (y/n) was clinging to right now instead of saving them.

He stumbled back, tripping against a cot. He landed on it heavily, hearing his breath escape in choppy gasps.

What am I supposed to do?

I’ll kill (y/n).

I’ll kill them.

I can’t—

“Pull yourself together.”

Giorno snapped his head up. Illuso had taken him back to the real world. Abbacchio was glaring at him. Formaggio and the others looked frightened of the expression they saw on Giorno’s face.

Giorno lurched toward Bruno. “What did you do? Why—Bruno, they’re going to die.”

“They will unless your Gold Experience—”

“No, I can’t. It’s-it’s too much. We need doctors. Surgeons. My Stand can’t—”

Bruno’s eyes were desperate. “Giorno, please. Every minute we leave (y/n) in there is another minute they’re losing. We don’t have time to get them to a hospital.”

Giorno shook his head. The black spots wouldn’t leave his vision.

He couldn’t. If his Stand made a mistake, (y/n) would die. His hands weren’t gentle enough to hold their life. They needed a fine, delicate needle to sew (y/n) together. Gold Experience was a bludgeon.

“You’re a selfish asshole. Do you think you’re too good to save (y/n)?” The words were a splash of freezing water. Abbacchio jabbed Giorno painfully in the chest. “Is your little Stand only good enough to save your friends? Is that it? (Y/n) isn’t worth your energy?”

Giorno’s mouth opened but made no sound.

“You don’t give a damn, do you? I know all about your little circle. Who cares if (y/n) dies? You can just find another person, another Stand user. They’ll just be a footnote, a nice little hashtag on your profile.”

“Abbacchio,” Bruno said tightly.

Abbacchio threw his words like serrated knives. “You can’t even be bothered to try saving (y/n). Why should you? When they’re not one of your elites? When your mission is over and Signor D is dead? ”

Giorno blinked. He felt the eyes of the room on him.

“I already healed Narancia and Risotto,” he whispered. “I healed Mista, and I did my best with Fugo. That’s why I stayed here instead of going on the boat. Because I know my Gold Experience is capable of healing their injuries.” He gripped the hand mirror tightly. “But (y/n)? You saw them. Those injuries are fatal. I don’t know what my Stand can do about them. I might save them, but what if I just take away their chances? I could barely heal a cut on my finger a week ago. How am I supposed to heal that ?”

Because at the end of the day, that was Giorno’s hamartia, wasn’t it? He acted self-assured and in control, but he didn’t have any clue what he was doing. In this mad scramble for Signor D, how many people had been hurt because he’d thought he was doing the right thing?

Abbacchio’s jaw was clenched so tight Giorno thought his teeth might shatter. “That’s a risk you have to take,” he said. “That’s what you were always risking.”

Giorno looked slowly around the room. He hated the distant pity he saw on everyone’s faces and the sharp undercurrent of judgement. What did they know? Would they have done better if their roles were reversed?

Giorno had Illuso settle (y/n) in one of the side rooms away from the infirmary. His heart wrenched when (y/n) had to lie on the floor, the chairs too bulky to properly … spread them out. When Illuso left, Giorno folded his tuxedo jacket with painful tenderness under (y/n)’s head. He sat beside them as Gold Experience worked, hardly daring to move, to breathe more than he should have. It was strangely intimate, but Giorno kept himself distant. He worked slowly, with as much gentleness as he could muster. He had been hasty with the others, with (y/n), he couldn’t afford to be. With excruciating care, he reconstructed the lines of (y/n)’s body, not quite knowing where his Stand took the energy from. He thought of the curve of their smile, the timbre of their voice. That day in the café. That night he’d given them the lighter. The diaphanous strands of White Satin, the way they unconsciously calmed him.

His fault. Him and his bravado. His pretentiousness.

He thought of their profile, that picture that had caught his attention. They had never doubted him. That was the thing that stuck out to Giorno. They had never asked twice about the missions he sent them on.

They’d trusted him in the end. How terrible was that?

Gold Experience finished its work. Giorno didn’t know whether it was good enough. He knew (y/n) must have been in agonizing pain still. At least their body was together enough to transport to the hospital now. At least they were still unconscious, their mind away from all of this.

At least there was that.

He returned to the infirmary. Left quiet instructions for Bruno. He jerked away when Bruno reached for him.

Vanilla Ice arrived with the antidote. The hospital would administer it to Fugo. Someone had called ambulances; they would be on their way. Giorno glanced over the cots one last time. The others would be fine. That was all he could hope for.

He smoothed the hair back from Trish’s forehead. She would understand what he was feeling. If only she were awake.

Abbacchio had left; Giorno wouldn’t have known what to say to him.

Giorno stumbled out into the hallway, holding himself up along the walls. Whenever he closed his eyes, (y/n)’s face would float into his mind.

He couldn’t think about them. Oh god, he couldn’t.

He left the cruise ship, making sure to keep away from the prying eyes of Sapiena’s student body. They would whisper, wonder what was wrong. He called for a cab. While he waited, he was overcome with a sudden rise of bile. He leaned over the docks, retching.

He felt terrible.

The cab driver looked curiously at the boy who climbed into the backseat. Giorno turned his head toward the window.

“Where to?”

“The airport.”

He was being an asshole. Trish would tear him a new one once she woke up.

So would (y/n).

If they woke up?

When was the last time he had talked to his mother? He was surprised when the call didn’t go to voicemail.

Her voice was bright, terribly so, given the circumstances.

“GioGio, ciao, darling! What time is it over in Naples? You don’t usually call. I’m getting ready for a photoshoot; you’ll have to hurry.”

“Mamma,” he swallowed. “Can I come to see you?”

“Hm? When?”

Giorno felt like a child. “Now.”

His mother laughed. “Of course. You’ll love it out here. The people are lovely.”

She didn’t understand. She didn’t even question. But that was why he had called.

The call ended. Giorno bought one ticket for the flight that left the earliest.

A text from his father. Giorno ignored it.

He needed as much distance from (y/n) as he could. He did not want to be here when—if?—they woke up. It was irrational, reckless, but it was the only thing he could stand. He didn’t need to be here anymore, not when he’d completed his mission.

Signor D was dead. Where was the champagne?

“Excuse me, may I have a glass of champagne?”

The flight attendant stared at him. This boy with a wrinkled suit and disheveled hair. There were flecks of blood along his jaw and his hands. His eyes were haunted beneath their brilliant turquoise.

“Are you alright, signore?”

Giorno blinked rapidly.

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

previous chapter || next chapter || table of contents

#pseuminova #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #vento aureo x reader #vento aureo #golden wind #golden wind x reader #gender neutral reader #modern au

9 notes · View notes

gamerbearmira · 2 years

Note

(SA wait wait wait I had an idea for Housebroken)

"I refuse to have animals in my home! Come back when you're human!" Their mama shrieked at them when she saw Pepas tail and Julieta and Bruno's antlers, kicking the three of them out of the house despite Casita trying to stop her.

The three eleven year olds were close to tears and huddling together under Pepas rain as they cuddled.

"Where ...where will we stay now?" Bruno asked quietly and upset over how easily their mama tossed them aside. He thought she loved them....

"Animals like you belong in the woods! Come back when the animals are gone and my human children are back!" Their mama screeched at them, hurting Pepas new ultra sensitive ears.

The three tweens sniffled and ran off, holding each other's hands and dashing into the woods after their mama started throwing pots and spoons and things at them to chase them away.

"We...we don't have a mama anymore. Or a home..." Julieta sniffled sadly as the three cuddled together in a clearing they had found after running for a while.

"Fuck it. She...she doesn't want us?! Fine! Fuck her! We don't need her!" Pepa said and she tried to wipe away her tears and use her anger but the rain showed just how upset she was still.

"What do we do now?" Bruno asked softly and Pepa wiped away her tears again and her ears twitched.

"We go to the library or we go ask the people in the village! She wants us to live in the woods? Fine! We can build a big tree house and we'll live in it! Sleepovers every night!" Pepa said and that made her siblings perk up a bit. They liked sleepovers...

Their mama didn't want them? Fine. Then they'll stay here and have the best tree house ever.

They weren't going back to that place. This clearing, which was wide and spacious and near the mountains so there were a few caves, was going to be their home now.

"We can stay in the cave tonight. It's late so we'll go to the village in the morning." Julieta said softly and her siblings nodded.

What they didn't expect was for a soft golden glow to surround the area and then the floor and cave started moving. Slowly three names carved themselves into the rocks above the three caves closest and a careful inspection showed that other caves had titles now too.

One had food shed, with a pantry and everything!, One said family den and it had what looked like stone and wooden and grass covered furniture in it, and then the ones with their names had some of their favorite clothes and their bed sheets and all on beds made of wood and grass.

The triplets stared at it wide eyed and then looked at the man who was standing in the family den.

"Papa?" Julieta whispered and the man beamed at them.

"Si mi vidas. Papa and Casita both are here.... we'll never leave you."

PLEASEEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA. SO MUCH. Sad and angsty, a lot of my au’s start out that way, it’s perfect. Genuinely considering this tbh. And it gets better…eventually. BUT YEAH. ALMA. WHHHAAAATTT THE HECK. Kicking…your kids out…ummmmm….ok.

Glad Pepa stepped up and declared her and her siblings independent from Alma, as they should. Can’t have them dwelling on the (ex)mother for too long. And I’m glad Casita and Pedro went with them???? Love that for them. I imagine it starts out in just the cave, but then they might build on it and into the trees, just creating other general areas for different purposes etc etc, I’ll try to drawing sumn up

Pedro taking care of his kids…and Casita tagging along…💥❤️💥❤️💥❤️ Also. Since it’s implied that it’s late, presumably evening/night time. Alma probably went to sleep, most likely trying to forget everything that happened that night, and would deal with it the next morning. And then she wakes up, goes out of her room. She notices that the triplets doors are dark and no longer glowing, but she doesn’t care. She tries to get Casita to do something. No response. She thinks

“Casita is probably still mad at me, but I threw those animals out to where they belong, and Casita will see that sooner or later.”

Yeah. Days go by. She realizes Casita isn’t doing anything. Nada. Zip. Nothing. She finally goes upstairs and sees it; her door is dark; in fact, it doesn’t even have her holding the candle anymore. Just her, frowning deeply, hands empty. She’s mortified. She goes to check on the candle.

Still debating, but there’s two outcomes;

It’s not even there anymore, Pedro essentially took it with him when he took Casita. So no more magic for Alma.

No more miracle; just a plain candle, melting more and more by the minute, with not an ounce of magic in it.

Anyway. I’m probably thinking too far into this huh 💀💀 regardless, have some art of multiple scenes, because I genuinely could not choose one to draw

Also sorry it took so long to answer and generally being inactive today??? It’s my baby sisters birthday and we went out, and then we got caught in a storm had to pull over, very eventful to say the least. But, I’ll try to answer some more asks tonight, and the I’ll be back to being active again tomorrow:)))

#encanto #encanto au #my asks are open #au #my asks #encanto alma #encanto pedro #encanto julieta #encanto pepa #encanto bruno #housebroken #housebroken au #sobbing #I love this #thank you snippet anon #once again #you have come in clutch

36 notes · View notes

heliphantie · 1 year

Text

Happy 1st anniversary of Encanto!

Sample of several Brunos drawn during October. Tag yourself, as they say.

Under ‘read more’ – small selection of art through the year + some ramblings:

Back in the middle of 2021, I’ve got interested by couple of things about it: implication that Disney – or animation in general - does something inspired by Gabriel García Márquez, and also being Latino-inspired Disney musical movie, which I wanted to see since listening to “Snuff Out The Light” from what became “Emperor’s New Groove”. Wasn’t expecting a lot, neither, to be honest, got in result, except some surprising consequences. I admire a lot of work, classic and more contemporary, by Disney animation and its creatives, even if nothing in last decade or so impressed me on the level Golden Age, Renaissance, or even early 00s production did.

To be fair, in the end I only stay intrigued by its concept and production art more than by actual movie, and it’s realistically more than I would expect. That, and fact Disney happened to create character catering specifically to me in a lot of aspects, which is unfathomable (but it’s a talk for other time).

I would like to collect all my thoughts about the movie to make thorough writing on it, but it calls for motivation and time dedicated to it. In one or another form, I still consider to do it sometime, not necessarily in consecutive form…

What is significant to me, it has triggered my long-tarred decision to resume drawing, which I had on hold for literal years. For now, beside of continued efforts in building skills, I feel almost obligated to put on paper (or digital canvas) all ideas thinking about the movie sparked (and I’m not even over a quarter of it currently).

I’d like to do one another big thing for its first anniversary before the end of year, but being on low energy and not wanting to rush through it, I hope I finish it to Christmas. Anyway, there is some of my work of that year which, out of all artistic attempts, I find satisfactory, considering my current level.

Sort of digest of the (not complete, given I started in April) year of art, dedicated mostly to one subject.

Julieta Gets All Kisses Returned (April 2022)

One of very first, early pictures. In fact, I drew it in pencil on very first day, April 1, along with couple of other small doodles. Idea for it was also quite old, from February, and it was supposed to be birthday-related, before official birthdays were revealed, and it turned I have to wait for half of year😊 Or draw it regardless, because it still worked out of that context and was small and simple enough for first steps. With all its simplicity, it *could* have been better, but I’m even fond of its roughness. There are some drawings I realize liking only for having low expectations for it, but as time goes, they look crappy to me, but not this one. (May be fun to re-make it too next year, to look at progress/improvement, assuming I’ll reach any.)

Teenage Bruno (April 2022)

This one I did in pencil on the *second* day. Piece of wisdom to myself: comics, even short ones, are trickier than regular drawing. It’s consisted of small frames, but you have to figure out composition and make character designs in each panel consistent. It takes twice time to make everything right and without a hurry.

Whole thing barely fits into any context of canon, I just imagined young Bruno interacting with children similar to Mirabel, and this conversation sprang to mind. I had to come with context to support it (Bruno had his gift kept in relative secret til late adolescence), but in general, main connection with my personal headcanon is just that he always was more resilient and lighthearted than given credit for.

On this note, I’ve had intention of exploring my headcanon about characters and Bruno in particular via mini-comics (lot of it had comic scenarios in its roots), and there’s bunch of scripts for it lying not processed into work yet, and as I said, I’m going to finish them because I don’t want for this spurt of inspiration to go to waste, even if it takes time.

On the comic itself, I also like how it turned, given all imperfections. Having to figure look of younger Bruno was fun, and it had some amusing by-products as well I’ll show other time😊 People online seem liking it, too, maybe because it has some narrative. And, frankly, I ought to make narrative things more often.

WDTAB Reenacted (April-May 2022)

Another fun early idea, WDTAB musical number with only Mirabel and Bruno. Two challenges: full-body figures in dynamic poses and drawing with references (without tracing, purely from eye), putting some spin on it. Curious realization: no matter how I try to keep body proportions accurate, all people I draw look like hobbits… except Bruno who does look like hobbit by design already.

My favorite is middle-bottom fragment, dynamic pose construed from scratch.

Bruno & Toni (July-August 2022, fragment of mini-comic)

It’s just this, a fragment of another (rare) mini-comic, but somehow in the end of it, I unexpectedly liked this one panel enough to single it out. I still struggle conveying emotions and mood of characters, but this one turned fortunately in that regard. It’s “sparking joy”, to use meme-speak.

Dolores (August 2022)

I wasn’t exactly determined to draw something to every official character birthday, only when I had idea in mind and it happened to align with date, but since May I was going (almost) steady providing something to each, small or bigger, like that one. It was first full-page picture with background and multiple elements, I wasn’t sure I’d finish it on time, but I managed to, and for most of it, I like the result. It’s not always that vision of thing is clear from beginning and gets exact realization, it’s interesting to see what I get in the end. Layers of background and decorative elements are all over place, it’s accidentally looking like sort of collage, but popping up quite vividly. It got some attention on Twitter, and frankly, I’m pleasantly surprised with it, the work paid off.

Also, how I pointed while presenting it for first time, I was inspired by production art and lines from script depicting Dolores as “weird cousin”, and to lesser extent by fan song “Turn It Down”. When someone mentioned she looks Tim Burton-esque, I was glad I nailed that association.

For further note, Dolores and Pepa are two characters with very attractive color design, I like every opportunity of drawing them.

Bunch of small things drawn during September-October – see samples in header image of post and under ‘encanto fanart’ tag in the blog by yourself, they’re all recent.

Despite smaller goals, I feel like it’s biggest improvement of the year: slowly getting expressions, shadow and lighting rendering, figuring out consistent personal style for characters, etc. I may get slowed down for now (and it affects my work), but I realize there’s long way ahead, and it’s encouraging to see I already have progressed a bit. Fanart is legit good starting point for working toward artistic aspirations, both fun and productive.

So, this post turned into one about personal achievements rather than one about the movie, but in the end, it’s all thanks to inspiration it gave me, so my felicitations to it!

#encanto #disney #encanto fanart #disney fanart #la familia madrigal #phantieart

12 notes · View notes

halseyquinn · 1 year

Text

I posted 61 times in 2022

That's 44 more posts than 2021!

45 posts created (74%)

16 posts reblogged (26%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@waitingonavision

@silver-words-and-inky-secrets

@reversia

@palestxrlight

@luxiferxx

I tagged 36 of my posts in 2022

Only 41% of my posts had no tags

#encanto - 28 posts

#bruno madrigal - 18 posts

#encanto fanart - 14 posts

#bruno encanto - 11 posts

#bruno madrigal fanart - 11 posts

#encanto bruno - 9 posts

#madrigal family - 5 posts

#encanto theory - 5 posts

#julieta madrigal - 5 posts

#alma madrigal - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 31 characters

#inkworld appreciation week 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

Sooo - I was wondering the other day: how is Bruno‘s hair still so comparatively short after 10 years behind the walls? Either he cut it himself or...he got “help” - this was probably the first (and last time) ever Bruno let the rats cut his hair LOL-

This is how it probably went:

Bruno: “Hey, little guys - do you think you could possibly help me with my hair?”

Rat 1: “Squeak?”

Bruno: “My hair - you know” *takes a pair of scissors and a strand of hair and cuts it*

Rat 1: “Squeak!” (to Bruno) *turns around to the other rats*: “Squeak-squeak!” [Translation: “Bruno needs help with preening his fur!”]

The other rats: “Squeak!” [Translation: “Alright, let’s do this!”]

Timeskip - about half an hour later...

Bruno: “Uh, guys? You know, the hair is supposed to be the same length on both sides?”

Rats 1, 2 & 3, who have been trying to cut Bruno’s hair for the last 30 minutes: “Squeak?”

Bruno [out loud]: “You know what? I think next time, I’ll just cut it myself - don’t want to trouble you again...”

Bruno [under his breath]: “Miércoles!”

37 notes - Posted July 13, 2022

See the full post

39 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

Mirabel adding something to her dress/skirt (as requested anonymously - I hope this is how you imagined the drawing :)

I personally think that sewing is not only a nice hobby for Mirabel: Each family member’s gift is symbolized by their clothes - so it only seems natural that Mirabel would like to add some “meaning” to her clothes, too - in order to feel more like a part of the family...

52 notes - Posted August 13, 2022

My contribution to the Encanto DTIYS-challenge by the amazing @glitternightingale! Here’s the awesome original drawing: https://glitternightingale.tumblr.com/post/691303126623485952/glitters-dtiys-2022

I drew all of the characters separately bc I wasn’t sure how each one would turn out (I’ve never drawn any of them before, except for Bruno). Afterwards, I cut the drawings out and put them together like a collage and then I played around a bit with Photoshop and added a filter to make it look like an old photograph (I totally imagine them like this at the photographer’s ;) Hope you like it! :)

87 notes - Posted August 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

tumblr_video

“Bruno grabbed a cup of coffee, pulled a rat out of it, and drank from it” (from the Encanto Deluxe Junior Novel). Ever since I read this, I’ve wanted to draw it - and since today’s Encantober prompt is “rats”, have this little video :)

164 notes - Posted October 23, 2022

11 notes · View notes

spoopyspectralassassin · 1 year

Text

I managed to stay on task for something and did dragons finally! Hopefully y’all won’t have to wait ages for the next dragon profiles lol, I’m sorry for being inconsistent all the time.

So, here I have two dragons that are both the same species but look different because of dominant/recessive genes in their respective parent dragons. Quill’s parental night fury had the more dominant genes so she’s more night fury looking while Illia is more dominantly razorwhip looking.

Additional facts about these dragons cuz I might as well do their profiles while I’m on the subject of them:

Quill: Quill is Emma Bessho’s companion dragon in my HTTYD/YGO AU, she is a NightWhip dragon. Her prominent fire type is plasma due to her more dominant night fury genes. She’s usually a kindhearted dragon but is fiercely protective of those she cares about. She’s also been known to fight Gunner (haven’t profiled him yet, I’ll work on it hehe. For context, he’s Blood Shephard’s Razorwhip and is basically Quill’s adopted sibling due to Emma and Kengo being close siblings)

Illia: Illia is Bruno’s dragon (and the reason why I decided to draw the bruno in my last post lol). She is also a NightWhip but with more dominant Razorwhip genes. She’s very friendly and largely docile, she tries to avoid confrontation but is capable of protecting herself or others if she is pushed. Her primary fire type is the kind that a Razorwhip has and she is capable of firing off spines from her tail like a Razorwhip can.

Yeah, basically my inspiration for these two dragons was: playing with the concept of dominant and recessive genes when it’s two different dragon types being mixed and also I wanted Illia to look more robotic while Quill looks more organic because it felt like it fit the characters whose dragons they are. Also, Illia’s name is Illia partly because I was thinking of twilight princess when I thought of her and partly because Bruno was a part of Illiaster.

#httyd/ygo au #HTTYD #sorry for rambling so much lol

5 notes · View notes

childofaura · 1 year

Text

Well... Banner thoughts

1. Black Knight/Zelgius is absolutely perfect. I laughed at his “accosted by children” line and also just love that he’s CHRISTMAS-themed.

2. Dorothea...

Ok look... I very very very VERY rarely use this word because it’s either misused as all hell, or people are making an exaggeration over it.

But... I genuinely think IS is being sexist with Dorothea. In a way that’s so hurtfully ironic to her character. I hate using the word “sexist” because she’s NOT REAL, I get that, but like I honestly don’t know how else to go about it. Dorothea hasn’t even been included as a base alt in this game; She’s so far had the most alts out of any character without actually being in the game. And that’s not a BAD thing. But... Look at all her alts: Summer swimsuit alt, Plegian alt with skimpy clothing, and now her Christmas alt with a SUPER low-cut top and fishnet stockings. Like wasn’t the whole point of Dorothea’s character that she was seen as a low-class nobody who only gained value for her voice and her body? And all IS keeps doing is giving her more sexy alts BEFORE EVEN GIVING HER A BASE UNIT IN THE GAME?

And ok, let me absolutely clarify: These are just lines at the end of the day. It’s just a drawing. In the long run, I don’t give a shit and it doesn’t affect me. But in the short run... Fuck, I wish they’d be a little more balanced and less blatant with who their fan-service is for. Oh, also STOP MAKING THE THREE HOUSES UNITS MANDATORY ADDITIONS TO THE CHRISTMAS BANNER.

3. Annette. Sweetie, darling, love of my life, honey, I love you. I really do. You are precious to me.

... But you are also a Three Houses character and the fact that both you AND Dorothea are on this banner means that you’re killing the banner diversity.

(I still love you though, puddin’ ;w; )

4. Cordelia and Selena.

HRGHHHHHH.... Really mixed on this one.

On the one hand, it’s... really weird that they’re going “Haha look, it’s a Harmonic Hero” when no. It’s not. Shuddup. Also hell, could they not have made Selena the main unit? This is her “first” alt in the game (but really no it isn’t, the Easter alt is), and they decided to make Cordelia ANOTHER alt primarily. Also right on the heels of her Fates alt being added? Really? So now we have Regular Cordelia, Bridal Cordelia, Summer Cordelia, Resplendent Cordelia, Caeldori, and finally this Christmas one. Yaaaay.

But on the other hand, it’s sweet that Cordelia and Severa are finally in a Duo Heroes together. So I’ll let it slide.

5. Bruno.

Augh... I haven’t seen the art yet but Bruno is slowly stepping into Dorothea’s territory, just in the male version of it. IS, please just give us Bruno as a Legendary Hero for the next banner. Please don’t make him like Dorothea where all we’re getting is man-tiddy. Like... Do as much fan-service as you want AFTER their base unit gets added, but consider adding him first. Also maybe do the cool thing you did with Conrad where his mask is off when you check his profile.

Actually, I kind of hope he has his mask off for this banner.

All in all, I honestly hate to say it but this Christmas banner is a pass for me. I might try to free Summon for Black Knight but that’s it.

#Fire Emblem Heroes #FEH #IT BEARS REPEATING BUT AGAIN LET ME CLARIFY: I KNOW THESE CHARACTERS ARE NOT REAL PEOPLE #I STILL FEEL AT THE END OF THE DAY THAT THIS FAN-SERVICE IS HARMLESS #But like... from the standpoint of a writer: How fucked is it that you have this character who struggles with her beauty sometimes #Because that's all she's seen for; to the point where her OWN FATHER tried seducing her without knowing who she was #And the company just decides 'Yeah let's keep making sexy alts for her before we even include her base form'#Like shit dude even though I whine about units getting their millionth alts I honestly don't actually care; THEY at least have been included #They could have fixed this if back during the 3Hopes banner they picked Dorothea instead of giving Hilda another alt

8 notes · View notes

redhotarsenic · 3 years

Text

He’s my favorite because he’s hot

#I know it doesn’t look done but I assure you that it is in fact quite complete #only took around three or four hours so that’s cool #he’s really easy to draw without reference #I think I’ll draw Bruno next #so uh #look forward to that laddies #my art #art #traditional drawing #traditional art #illustration #jjba part 5 #jjba fanart #fanart #leone abbacchio #jojo’s bizarre adventure #leone abbachio fanart #jojo abbachio

15 notes · View notes

oh-no-a-whovian · 2 years

Text

Two more lonely people Part 5

NSFW 18+

Summary: “should we fight this?” “Si.” “I don’t know if I can” “neither do I”

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal x fem werewolf! reader

Warnings: age gap (Y/N is 24 and Bruno is 50) Hope yall are ready for those lemons. PinV. Wrap it up! Some self-hate. Any others let me know please.

Word count: 5030

Masterlist PT1 Next

You feel refreshed and lively as you wake in the grass near casa Madrigal, not far from Bruno’s tent. You couldn’t exactly have exactly gone home still in wolf form. You couldn’t risk being spotted, not when the gift from casita excuse won’t hold while the others don’t have theirs.

You stretch your arms above your head, arching your back so only your head and butt are touching the ground, moaning in pleasure at the stretch. The early morning birds fly above as you stare at the blue sky as the sun starts to rise. Good thing no one from town has come up to casita for another day of building yet. God knows what they would have said if they caught you napping in the grass, especially if you were still in wolf form.

It felt amazing to run again after two weeks of barely leaving your bed. The feeling of wind in your fur and dirt under your paws again was amazing. And the fact that shifting seemed to fix what was broken is a bonus, you can actually help rebuild now. You had to fight yourself though, when the urge came to just howl into the jungle.

“Not sure lying in the grass is the best idea.” Bruno’s voice rings out, drawing your attention back to the ground, making you sit up to look at him, a big smile on your lips. “Fire ants aren’t pleasant.”

“I got a face full of them a couple years ago, so I’ll have to agree with you.” You laugh, taking his offered hand to stand.

“Oh heh… how’d you manage that?”

“let’s just say running recklessly through a jungle isn’t the smartest thing.” You tell him brushing a few leaves from your hair and skirts.

“are you… feeling better?” he asks, his little chuckle at your words making you smile.

“yeah. It almost feels like nothing was broken in the first place.” You explain. “should have shifted two weeks ago.” You yawn as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

“W-why are you here so early?” he asks, squinting as he realises no one else working yet. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s even awake, most won’t wake for another hour. The only reason you are is because your body had shifted back into human form. Dios you’re glad you keep your clothes unlike in some werewolf stories, otherwise this encounter would have been awkward.

“didn’t leave.” You shrug, wandering off toward the construction, spotting the rat that seems obsessed with you, cleaning itself on some rubble. It’s not the first time you’ve slept under the stars.

“Wait you slept here?”

“couldn’t risk being spotted by anyone in town. They think it’s a part of the gift after all.” You roll your eyes, lifting the rat to put on your shoulder and turning to the man. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t fond of the rat that keeps climbing onto your head. “It was either here, or somewhere among the trees.”

“oh” he replies as he fiddles with his fingers.

You stand together in silence for a moment. Would it be weird if you asked him if wants to get breakfast together? What way would he take it? what way would you mean it?

“I was gonna go and get something for breakfast…” you start “would you… maybe like to join me?”

“Uh mmm. I think it’d be better if I just get started for the day.” He tells you, pointing to the structure with his thumbs as he starts to back away. “Y-you know, there’s still a lot of work to be done and it isn’t going to do itself.” He laughs nervously.

“ok” you try to ignore the disappointment as he rambles on about why he can’t. “Maybe I’ll bring something back.” You nod, your smile disappearing once he turns the corner.

You’re really starting to hate this pull you have toward him, especially when you think he might feel it too just to literally run away.

You breathe out a sigh, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to push away the feeling welling inside. Your mind keeps telling you that you’re being too much. That he doesn’t actually want the attention you’ve been giving. You get it though, you’ve been told many times that you show affection like a dog, jumping on and cuddling your friends like you hadn’t seen them in years. Doll and Isa have been perfectly happy with adopting it, but others have simply told you to calm down.

The rat on your squeaks in your ear, watching you curiously as it sniffs at the air. “Looks like it’s just you and me huh?” you say to the rat as you start your trek home.

~~~~~~

Bruno POV

‘She was just being nice. She was just being nice’ Bruno mutters to himself for the thousandth time as he works on fixing some of the broken pictures, retrieving them from the rubble and making sure they’re preserved until the house is fixed. She was just being nice, but his lonely mind had once again tried to read something into it.

“Tio Bruno.” Mirabel calls out, making him jump. “[Y/N] brought some arepas, made them herself. Said she had something to do though so she asked me to bring you a couple.” He stares at the cloth covered arepas as his niece places them into his hand. “They might be a good as mama’s but don’t tell her I said that.” The girl jokes before wandering off.

She made these? He thought she was just planning to buy some things from the market, but she went home and made them… four little arepas, wrapped in a nice cloth and still warm to the touch.

He hums as he takes a bite of the first. Mirabel was right, even though Julieta’s would normally have come with healing, [Y/N]’s is just as good. She probably learnt how to make them from his sister after all.

As he lifts the second one to eat, he notices a note placed between the middle two and he pauses, glancing around to see if anyone is looking.

‘Sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable in some way, I promise it’s not my intent. I forget not everyone likes so much attention. I can’t really help it, but I’ll try to be a little less. Enjoy the arepas :)’

He feels bad as he reads her words. He didn’t realise how his avoiding would look to her. He’s been in the walls for ten years and he’s been realising slowly that it hasn’t done great things to his social skills. He just wanted to keep a distance so his mind would stop doing what it’s been doing.

She thinks it’s her fault. She thinks that the way she’s been acting around him has made him uncomfortable and he feels like shit for letting her think that. He can’t just tell her that’s not the case though… what would he say? ‘you’re not making me uncomfortable. The truth is that I fucking love your attention far more than I should and every little thing you do sets my body on fire and turns my mind into the sand that used to fill my room. the very thought of you being near me is driving me wild but you’re the best friend of my nieces, so I’m desperately trying not to think about it.’ that doesn’t exactly sound great. And there’s the fact he’s only been out of the walls for two weeks and is already feeling this way. That’s maybe a bit too fast to be developing these thoughts.

He wants to make it up to her, but he’s stuck. If he starts talking to her, acting like he would with anyone else and not running away, he’s sure he’ll be too far gone for her. But he doesn’t want to hurt her by letting her think she’s the problem.

He sighs as he eats the last arepa, tucking the cloth and note into his pocket. He’ll act like himself for her and pretend he doesn’t want her the way he does. He’s doomed.

~~~~

[Y/N]’s POV

“It’s a shame you don’t still have your gift, [Y/N]. The herd is starting to miss you.” Arturo, the farmer you work with the most says as he places another stack of the floor tiles by you.

“Mmmhmmm.” You hum, placing more tiles on the ground in the old pattern, not even looking up at him as he wanders off. You swear it’s the fifth time he’s said it and it’s starting to get on your last nerve. Especially since you still very much have your ‘gift’, and you couldn’t care less about his herd. You were doing what you were told by herding them and you’re glad to have a break.

“he-hey.” You hear to your right where Arturo was standing, glancing up to see Bruno has taken his place. “I was umm told you need more cement for the tiles.” He smiles, lifting the bucket of freshly made liquid cement to show you.

“Oh thanks” you smile gesturing to where he can put it and going back to placing the tiles. When he continues to stand there, shuffling nervously, you look back up at him. His hands are twisting together and he’s staring at the tiles, his mouth open like he wants to say something. “was there something else?”

“um ye- would… do you need any help?” he stutters as he rubs the back of his neck with one hand while gesturing to the tiles with the other.

“I don’t need help…” you start “but! I wouldn’t mind the company.” You smile, stopping him before he tries to race off with a bunch of apologies on his tongue. He smiles as he breathes out a sigh of relief, kneeling beside you and handing you a few of the tiles for you to place.

“thank you… for the arepas. They were really nice.” He says quietly as he starts to place other tiles on the fresh cement, making sure to keep with the pattern.

“I’m glad you liked them” you blush, knowing he read your note that you hid in the middle of them. It was the only thing you could think of doing, since he seemed to want to run away otherwise. You just wanted him to know that you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Even if he doesn’t want what your mind and body have been craving, you’re willing to be a friend. “they’re probably not as good as Julieta’s though.’

“without the expectation of healing, I think they might be better.” He whispers, “though heh might be a good idea not to let mi hermana know.”

“mmm best not” you laugh. “you ever get the urge to do something dumb?” you ask him.

“uh no, no, no… I tend to um avoid doing dumb things on purpose.”

“can’t relate” you giggle. “I keep getting this urge to just place a wrong tile. Like right here I’d place this colour instead of the one it’s supposed to be.” You explain, holding up on of the tiles. “I keep thinking how funny it would be to see how many people would get annoyed at the single out of place tile.” You laugh “but then I’d remember that I would also get annoyed at it”

“and there’s the fact that if the magic returns when casita is finished, it would probably fix it itself.” He huffs in amusement, a gentle smile on his lips.

“yeah, that too” clearly something about your note had calmed something in his mind, as he seems to relax beside you. Though as you look at him, you can still hear his heart race and see tension in the way he’s sitting. “you’re not just… forcing yourself to pretend I don’t make you uncomfortable because of the note, are you? If you are because you felt guilty or something… I’d prefer it if you didn’t. I’m a grown woman, Bruno, I can handle it…” you say quietly, watching his fidgeting hands. You don’t want others to hear.

“I-I’m not” he stutters, and you glance at him like you don’t believe him. “It’s just I’ve only been around people again for two weeks…”

“I get that, but you don’t have to force yourself…”

“I promise, [Y/N], I’m not” he smiles, the way he said your name sending a buzz throughout your body. As you nod, he breathes a sigh of relief and starts telling you about his telenovela ideas. You know it’s to distract from the awkwardness, but you let him do it, smiling and laughing. His eyes light up as you smile and listen to the stories he came up with. He’s amazing. His characters, his ideas, you listen to all of it.

~~~~~~

Bruno’s POV

She’s amazing. He’s been trying so hard to pretend that she’s just a friend, telling himself that it will never go further. But as the week went on, spending hours by her side, laughing with her, trying to be a friend, his heart and body demanded more. He hasn’t tried avoiding her again though, he couldn’t stand to see her sad again.

On Miércoles (Wednesday) she’d made a comment about how she was glad to see more colour in his skin and he melted, eating whatever piece of fruit she’d brought him at the time while he stared at her in awe.

He’d shown her his stories, and watched in nervous dread, scared that she’d laugh at him, but she’d smiled. She read through it all as they sat on the grass during a break, and he couldn’t help but stare. A gentle smile on her lips, a glow in her eyes and the wave of her loose hair in the wind, how could he not take a moment to just admire her?

The thing that has his mind racing though, making him walk along the path toward the river for fresh air, is that there were so many moments that he swore was unmistakeable flirting. He’s sure he just misunderstood, but no matter how many times he replayed each event, there was no other explanation. What else could the things she said and did possibly mean? And if there really is some innocent meaning to them that he’s completely missed then he must be depraved for getting so excited about them that he had to take care of himself just to keep some semblance of sanity.

It way have been a long time ago for him but he’s not a complete idiot when it comes to women… right?

~~~~~~

[Y/N] POV

Running water cools your bare skin, removing all aches from the work you’ve been doing. After the full moon had healed your broken bones fully, you had dived into helping rebuild casita. You helped the artisans, the builders and brick layers, pretty much anyone who’d take you. Though you spent the most time with Bruno, laughing at his little impressions, helping him move his spackle wherever it needed to go. It has been an amazing week.

You couldn’t help yourself as the week went on. He was so sweet, so kind, you just had to gauge his reaction. you’d spent hours a day by his side, how could there be nothing there?

You dive your head under the water, soaking your hair, gasping for breath as you rise back up. This is the best spot in the river, predators seem to just avoid it, the most dangerous thing near you would probably be the capybaras relaxing on the opposite bank, munching on river grass with complete indifference. A snapping sound fills the air making you spin to face the stone covered shore line, your heart racing and your body ready to shift to defend yourself.

“¡Lo siento mucho! No sabía que nadie estaría aquí.” Bruno screeches, covering his eyes and spinning away from you. (I am so sorry! I didn’t know anyone would be here!) you smile and relax at the sight of the man, knowing there’s no danger.

“Está bien… what are you doing by the river?” you ask him, admiring his curly hair at the back of his neck as you gently splash the water.

“I ummm wanted som-somewhere quiet to sit. Still getting used to being around people again, y’know?” He tells you. You can hear the pebbles beneath his feet as he shifts on the spot, and you can see the draped cloth of his ruana shift as you’re sure he’s fidgeting with his hands again.

“Hmmm, well I don’t mind the company, if you don’t…” you tell him, your heart racing. This is the first time you’ve really been alone with him and you’re not even wearing clothes. You’re not sure if you should chase or berate your body for the excitement stirring inside. He didn’t react badly to your flirting but what if he didn’t even realise? You just want to know…

“y-you… you’re not exactly wearing any… anything.” He struggles to say. You can hear his heart racing and his breathing becoming heavier, as he stands there, not leaving.

“I don’t mind that either…” you hum.

“I umm don’t think… I just… I’m not sure…” he stutters, trying to figure out the right words for his thoughts.

‘Fuck it’ you breathe deeply and rise from the river, ignoring any sharp stone as you approach him. He spins to look at you when he hears the sound of shifting stones under your feet, but he looks away again. Locking his eyes down to his left to stop himself from looking at your bare body. You pause before him, your whole body on display, begging for him to want you as much as want him.

“do you feel what I feel?” you whisper, barely able to raise your voice as your chest seems to tighten. “All you have to do is tell me you don’t feel this, and I will fight it. I’ll ignore it, distance myself until this feeling goes away.” You explain, your heart aching at the thought that he will tell you to stop, tell you he doesn’t want you like that. “You just have to tell me to stop.”

You wait for him to say something, anything but he doesn’t, just remains silent as he keeps his eyes locked on the ground. He’s not running away or screaming at you though… surely that means something?

“Bruno?” you ask as you lift his chin, the only thing you know works. Your hand is shaking and your head is tilted when he finally meets your eyes. You would stop if he asked you to but that doesn’t mean it’s not gonna hurt. “please say something…”

“you’re all I can think about.” He finally blurts out, his face turning red, making your heart stutter and a knot of excitement form in your stomach. You were so sure he’d say no, don’t keep trying I don’t want that. You knew that would hurt but you wanted to try.

You can’t help the joy that shows on your face at his words. Without another thought you press your lips to his, cupping his cheeks as you kiss him. He melts into your touch, sighing into your kiss as his eyes fall shut. He feels so warm as your press your body against his, wanting to feel every inch of him. You can feel his hands hovering over your hips, not sure where to place them. It feels like this was always meant to be, your racing heart against his, the soothing sound of the racing river. Has perfection ever felt so sweet?

You lift your left hand up into his hair, tugging at the curly locks, smiling into the kiss as he moans into your mouth. He finally finds the courage to place his hands on your hips, pulling you closer if that’s even possible, gripping your ass to press you flush against himself as his courage grows. You run your tongue along his lips, begging entry as you taste the sweet papaya he’d had earlier.

You can feel another thing growing, firm against your tummy, obvious even with his ruana and pants in the way, lust filling your body making you more wet than the water ever could.

His eyes are hooded and dark when you finally pull away for air, breathing heavily as you press your forehead against his. The wind cools your damp skin, mixing with the warmth of him, sending perfect shivers across your body and you gasp for air.

You wish you could stay in this moment forever. The feeling of his curly hair between your fingers, his breath mixing with yours as he refuses to let you go, your body bare against him. You hope so desperately that it’s not another dream, that the feeling of him pressed against you is one hundred percent real.

“I tried to fight it” you whisper as you slowly drift your right hand down his body, wanting to feel more. “But every time I saw you, I couldn’t stop my body from wanting more. I was so scared you’d hate me if I tried” you admit as you slip your fingers under his ruana and shirt, his warm stomach flexing at the touch of your cool hand.

“I couldn’t ignore it either, no matter how hard I-I tried.” His eyes drift closed as you touch his skin, teasing the edge of his waist band with your thumb, feeling the dip of his hip leading down to what you want.

You lift at his ruana and shirt, asking silent permission to pull them off of him. You can see the warfare behind his eyes as he looks back into yours. the desperation to chase what you now know he’s been craving and every little thing he believes should be stopping him, creating a battlefield in his mind.

“I want you” you breathe, your breasts pressing against his chest, the cloth of his clothes rubbing against your sensitive nibs. His grip on your ass loosens, his hands lifting to finally give you permission. You lift it over his head, throwing it onto the pile of your clothes, safe from the water. When you reach for his belt he stops you, breathing heavily.

“I-I just ne-ed a moment” he explains. You wish you knew what was going through his mind, what little thing is stopping him from claiming you. Stopping him from taking what he needs and letting you take in return. You want him desperately, but you can be patient, so you nod, stepping away from him.

“when you’re ready, come join me.” You tell him, gesturing your head to the river behind you, easing the panic that starting burning in his green eyes at you pulling away.

The water ripples as you step back into it, the river flowing around you to continue its path. You keep your back to him as you make your way into the water, giving him privacy as he fights with himself. Your mind keeps telling you he’s gonna run, grab his clothes and leave you here, deciding he doesn’t want you after all. You think you’d understand if he did run. Perhaps he was just lost in the moment, and he’ll remember that you spend half your time as a six-foot-tall wolf with massive teeth and he’ll run for it. maybe he thought it’s what he wanted but once you tried, he realised that wasn’t the case.

Your mind runs circles until you finally hear the gentle splash of him joining you, relief washing over you. You squeak in surprise as he turns you, his lips crashing into yours as he wraps his right arm around your back, making sure you’re pressed fully to his body, able to feel him completely. His hardened member presses against your hip bone, unable to shift with how close he is holding you. He feels perfect.

He seems surprised at himself when he pulls back to look at you. Though the face he’s making could just mean that you look like a flustered horny mess. Even in the water you feel warm, your face and between your legs feeling like furnaces surrounded by a snow filled landscape.

Your right-hand drifts down his body again, appraising the feeling of his skin against yours as you move to where you want to touch him. He reluctantly lets you separate your bodies as you pause your hand, so close but needing space between you to touch him. He seems frozen in place again, the courage that had pulled you into his arms vanishing as you reach the proof of his attraction.

His breath hitches as your fingers brush against his hard member, his mouth falling open, and his eyes fluttering shut. He’s so warm as you explore his size with the tips of your fingers, the skin soft as velvet even under water. You want to feel every inch of him, get to know everything that drives him wild. Taste him on your tongue and feel him fall apart in every way.

His cock twitches under your ministrations and he moans when you finally wrap your hand around him, moving up and down his length slowly to tease out every noise you can. His head falls onto your shoulder, panting into the curve of your neck as he thrusts into your hand, and you lock your left hand into his curls again. You’re barely doing anything and he’s falling apart before you.

“I need you.” You whisper into his ear and kiss down his neck. He pulls back to meet your eyes, his hands sliding down your body, dipping into each curve until he reaches the back of your thighs. His eyes are wide, betraying a nervousness as his helps lift you for you to wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel how badly he wants you now but he’s not taking charge, just making it easier for you.

The water surrounding you makes you feel light as you lift yourself over him, your eyes locked with his as you line him up with your entrance. His brows are drawn together as he concentrates on the feeling of you lowering onto him, trying not to lose himself too soon in the feeling of you enveloping him. Your slick allowing him easy entry between your folds. No amount of the clear river water would be capable of washing away your lust.

It feels so right as you lower your body, the stretch of him inside setting your body alight, creating a knot in your gut and butterflies in your chest. You moan together as you move, lifting yourself up just to sink back down, his cock filling you to the hilt over and over. So fucking perfect.

You dare not to look away from his beautiful green eyes. You can’t risk breaking whatever enchantment has befallen you as you build upon the extasy on him inside you, his arms around you.

“you feel so good, Bruno” you moan, your mouth falling open and your brows furrowing as you move faster, desperate for more. Wanting to feel only the drag of his cock against your walls and the squeeze of his hands on your thighs as he guides you.

“please, please.” He begs, his voice so quiet as his head falls onto your chest, pressing his lips to your breasts. “[Y/N].” he moans “Te necesito, tanto. tan apretado a mi alrededor. joder. Estoy tan cerca.”

“I’m so close.” Your stomach tightens as you draw closer and closer to release, the band so ready to snap and send ecstasy through your blood. You know it’s a bad idea to allow him to finish inside of you but the idea of him filling you with his seed, painting your walls in warm liquid, nearly sends you over the edge. “do you want me to pull off?” you ask breathlessly, never stopping your pace.

At your words he looks up at you, questioning for a moment, red filling his face when he realises what you’re asking. but His grip grows tighter, his fingers pressing deep into your thighs, bound to leave marks. Your surprise at his decision turns to fiery euphoria and your body launches over the edge, clenching tight around him. You can see the reflection of your glowing eyes in his, the cyan mixing with his green.

“fuck [Y/N].” He curses, his mouth falling open as your pussy squeezes his cock, pulling him over the edge with you. Hot cum spurts from him in ropes and you feel each one coating your walls, somehow keeping the fire alive inside you as you take every last drop.

“that was…” you breathe out after a few moments of being unable to move, your feet meeting the smooth stones at the bottom of the river when he finally lets you go, your hands pressed against his chest and a smile on your lips.

“A mistake” he says, your smile dropping as he looks away from you in shame but not pulling away, keeping his hands on your hips. “I shouldn’t have don-done that. An-any of it, I knew it was wrong.” He mumbles shaking his head, ashamed and disgusted with himself. “I want you so badly. I lost myself in knowing you want me too, but it isn’t right. You’re half my age, I shouldn’t…” He tries to pull away as he spirals into self-hatred.

“No” you growl, pulling him back to you and gripping his jaw to make him look into your glowing eyes, the scruff on his chin stabbing into your fingers. “you will not say things like that. I am a grown woman; I know what I want and that does not make it wrong. And you have a right to want things too. That is not wrong either.” You release your tight grip on his jaw and move your hand around to the back of his neck, pressing his forehead to yours once more. “I want you”

“you’ll regret it” he mumbles, and you swear his eyes are watering.

“never” you smile, kissing him once more.

A/N: looong spicy chapter! Hope you all loved it ;) remember like and reblog to share the love!!!

two more lonely people tags: if your tag failed I’m sorry.

@pink-hufflepuff @kyriekurokami @goblinenby @fraujar @ducks118 @lemonbaby @sylum @life-hater39 @abelbai000 @sarashitposts @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @mother-dragon-and-her-hatchlings @elysiadjarin @multifandombtch @insanitybyanothername @inthewindsomehow @gloryekaterina @anactualvelociraptor @originalsoulcollector @hlxoos @tangerine-kitten @psychomanias @nectamburne @mary-wolf @wo1fwitch @jesuisravenclaw @shaddow-darkcloud @ryou-cosmos @puck-the-puppy @totofranken @butchcupid @mintymonicalei @azeret-mirror @a-gay-cryptid @cl0vr @tigreost @kenzi-woycehoski

#we don’t talk about bruno #bruno madrigal #bruno my beloved #bruno madrigal x reader #isabela madrigal x reader #dolores madrigal x reader #camilo madrigal

309 notes · View notes

7official7moose7 · 2 years

Text

How I draw Bruno Madrigal: A tutorial!

Before you say it, yes, I know I draw him way too much. Maybe this’ll come in handy for someone here djhhfjgjg- (plus it’s an excuse to draw him for the millionth time today soooo)

Disclaimer: This post is NOT meant to bash ANYONE for how they draw. It’s just a tutorial on how I draw Bruno, everyone’s style is different!!

Step one: Face shape

I always make sure I have the right face shape down, or else it won’t really look like the character I’m tryna draw (in my eyes at least). Bruno’s face shape is somewhat almond/diamond shaped, just upside down. His cheekbones make little points at the sides 👀

Step two: Nose

I see a lot of people drawing Encanto characters with the wrong nose shape/size (don’t worry, I struggled with this for years lmao), so I tried to make it a bit more simple.

His nose is like an upside down kite shape, like his face except the points are a little lower/closer to the tip!

Step 3: Eyes

Bruno’s eyes are very round, and there isn’t a whole lot of space in between them; I see a lot of fan art with his eyes spaced pretty far apart, so try keeping them closer to the bridge of the nose (I also did this too at first, so don’t fret!!)

I come back to the circles under his eyes later 👁👁

Step 4: Mouth/teeth

Bruno has tooth gaps!! (Teeth gaps? Grammar no exist) the most noticeable one is right up front, but there’s also one round near the back jshsgdjhd

Step 5: Brows

Bruno’s eyebrows have that little crease at the top most of the time, unless his expression is relaxed. In case you can’t read my handwriting: they’re thicker at the beginning, curve up just a bit, and then they taper at the end.

Step 6: Hair

His hair is type 2c I believe (it might be 3a, there’s posts on here about that as well if I’m wrong!!) You can also either go on google or Pinterest to get reference pictures.

Bruno has these two distinct strands that hang into his eyes (I’ve colored them in to point them out) that I absolutely adore drawing! Fun fact: I have the exact same two strands (my hair is either 2b or 2c, I can’t quite remember hfhfhfhgh) that do the exact same thing!!

Step 7. Facial hair

Bruno’s beard (goatee?? It’s kinda both I think???) isn’t exactly a full beard, it’s basically just long stubble lmao

I have a bit of trouble with this for the sole reason that I’m just bad at facial hair hahahaa-

Step 8. Colors

The color palette in the second image is more accurate than the first! I color picked the skin tone to the best of my ability, along with the hair and other parts. For his eyes, I use the shade of purple on a multiply layer, along with the blush. His freckles are just the small light brown next to the white and green for his eyes (in the second image)

Bruno’s hair looks pretty brown right there as well, but thats only because of the highlights (I used a golden yellow, you’ll see in the next image) the colors I used for his hair are the two grays; the lighter one is used for the silver strands, and I always color the two front strands with it. For the rest, I just add random streaks into the darker shade.

With his ruana and undershirt, I kinda just eyeballed the colors (I color picked at first, but altered them just a bit afterwards)

Step 9: Shading/lighting (this is optional!)

This is the finished product! I tweaked the line art just a bit, fixed his nose since I forgot how physics work and forgot that the nose turns up with the smile oops hahaha

I changed the line color to a warm brown for a softer look, and I shaded his eyes with a darker/more saturated green on a multiply layer and then put neon yellow highlights at the bottom on an add layer. I used a dark maroon/brown on a multiply layer as well for the shading and a golden yellow-orange for the highlights on an add layer (I feel Ike I’ve typed “layer” so many times so I’mma just say this rq: I always put shading on multiply and highlights on add!!)

I also put a little shade for his lips since I forgot them too ahahaa,,,

ANYWAYS there you have it!! I’ll post some extras that could also be good examples soon (because sadly I’ve reached the image limit dammit)

Hope this helps!!

#artists on tumblr #digital art #bee speaks #bruno madrigal #bee's encanto tag #disney encanto #art tutorial #dtiys maybe? 👀#god i draw him WAY too much #and i spent WAY too much time on this tutorial #gonna go die now brb /j

134 notes · View notes

butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 2 years

Note

Woke up thinking about my beloved teacher Bruno and reader together in the shower... like, worshipping each other, very intimate, lots of FLUFF maybe?? S2

(Don’t Stand So Close To Me (18+) (Part 9)

Teacher!Bruno Madrigal x Student!Fem!Reader

Modern Day!Imagine

Non-Magic AU

Summary: After making the strawberry shortcake, they are left all dirty so while Bruno goes to have a shower, reader wants to join

Warnings: Smut, swearing, Age gap, inappropriate thoughts, teacher/student (STUDENT IS OF AGE), sir kink, Papi/daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, fluff, shower sex

Word Count: 1901

Italics will mostly be his direct thoughts or his imagination

Author Note: It's probably obvious already, but I try to get one part out each week so if I don't...oops.

Don't Stand So Close To Me (Masterlist)

(Part 8) >(Part 9)< (Part 10)

(I do not own this gif)

Bruno POV

She grabbed some clothes from one of my draws before following me into the bathroom. I shut the door after her and turned on the shower, letting it heat up.

I removed my long sleeve shirt, placing it in the washing basket next to the bathroom door. I hadn’t even touched my pants, and she had started giggling. I turned to face her, smiling slightly. She hadn’t taken anything off yet, she just stood there with the tip of her thumb grazing her teeth, smiling.

“What’s so funny, mi Vida?” I smiled at her.

“You’re not wearing a shirt,” she giggled again.

I chuckle a little at her statement.

“Now why would I wear a shirt in the shower?” I teased, slightly, “well, if you want to shower with me, you should be doing the same,” I removed my pants, along with my boxers.

As I was putting the rest of my clothes in the washing basket, I jolted a little as I felt a little smack on my backside. I slowly turned to look at her, seeing her with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Was that necessary?” I joked, laughing slightly at her childishness.

She nodded.

“You have a nice butt!” she said.

“Okay, now come on, I’ll help you undress,” I said, coming closer to her, grabbing at the bottom of my ruana she had taken from me a couple of hours ago.

“Come on now, off with the dress”.

She meekly obeyed, holding her arms out as I pulled the dress from her body. She had not been wearing a bra. I reached for the waistband of her underwear, pulling them down her legs. She held onto my shoulder as she stepped out of them. I threw the rest of the clothes in the washing basket and opened the shower door. There was plenty of room in the shower for the both of us, not having to push each other out of the way or anything.

I grabbed the showerhead, detaching it from the stand and held it above her head, soaking her hair and body with water. She spun around, letting the water get every inch of her.

She is so adorable.

I turned the showerhead in my direction, about to rinse myself down.

“No, I wanna help!” she whined, reaching for the showerhead.

I handed it over to her, letting her take control of the spout.

“Thank you, baby”.

She giggled a little at the name I had used. After I was all wet, I turned off the shower and grabbed her shampoo that she had brought.

“Turn around”.

She did so without question. I lathered up the fruit-scented shampoo between my hands and onto her hair. I used my fingers to massage her scalp. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes.

“Look at you, my beautiful baby, so pretty,” I praised her, knowing how much she loved it, “you have such beautiful hair, mi Amor”.

Once her hair was nice and bubbly, I turned the shower back on, washing my hands before I rinsed her hair, making sure to shield her eyes with my hand so none gets in her eyes. After rinsing out her hair, I squeeze out the excess water before I apply a generous amount of conditioner to my palm then run it through the ends of her hair.

She twirled her hair into a bun, using her claw clip to hold it in place, letting the conditioner sit in her hair for a bit.

“Your turn!” she turned to face me with her gorgeous smile.

I turned around, giving her access to my hair. She eventually begins to lather my hair with my shampoo. My eyes fluttered shut, letting myself bathe in the absolute heaven that are her nimble fingers.

“You have such thick hair! So nice!” her praises warmed my heart.

She turned on the shower, washing the suds out of my hair before grabbing the conditioner.

“Not too much,” I instructed.

She combed her fingers, with the conditioner, through the ends of my hair.

“Thank you, my darling”.

I washed out the rest of her hair before washing my own. As I was about to grab my own soap to wash my body, she stopped me.

“Wait! Use mine!” she pushed her coconut body wash into my hands.

“You want me to smell like you, huh?”

She nodded, taking the bottle back, pouring some into her hand. She ran her soap covered hand up and down my body, getting me all covered in the scent that stained her skin.

“You have such a nice body, Bruno,” she complimented me.

I blushed slightly at her comment, “Thank you, Cariño”.

She slowed down her pace as she made her way down to my nether regions. She grabbed my member, stroking it slowly while looking up at me.

“What are you doing, baby?” I asked, looking back at her, trying not to get hard.

“Washing you”.

“Really? Just washing me,” I pulled her in closer by the waist.

She stood up on her tiptoes, planting a sweet kiss on my lips. I felt as my dick hardened in her hand while she stroked it some more.

“You’re always horny, can’t leave you untouched for one second, can I?” I teased, kissing her deeply.

I turned her around and pressed her against my chest, keeping her in place by the waist.

“You are one needy baby,” I said, pressing my lips against her neck.

She reached behind and continued to stroke my cock. I dropped my hand down to her clit, rubbing the little bud gently. She leans her head back onto my shoulder, giving my chin butterfly kisses.

“You are so beautiful, mi Vida,” I said.

I brought my second hand down to her entrance and slowly inserted my fingers in. She gasped, continuing to jerk me off.

“Do you like having Papi’s fingers in you?”

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed a ‘yes’.

“How about my cock?”

She couldn’t hold back the moans anymore.

“That’s right, mi Vida, show me how much you’re enjoying this”.

She began to circle her thumb around my sensitive tip of my dick. I let out a little groan right next to her ear.

“I love it when you make noise, sir,” she breathed out.

“Oh yeah?’’ I managed to moan out.

She sped up her movement with her thumb causing me to moan a lot louder this time.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me,” I barely whispered.

I grabbed the showerhead from the wall and turned it on, letting it warm up for a few seconds before changing the jet settings to a light massage. Using the showerhead, I aimed it right at her little clit, watching her almost collapse to the ground if I hadn’t been holding her.

If her moans were loud before, they were louder now.

“Oh my god!” she screamed in pleasure.

She couldn’t hold onto my cock anymore, she was just trying to stay standing. I could already feel her legs start to shake.

“Are you close, Amor?”

“Uh-huh!”

I made sure to keep the pressure on her clit as she climaxed. I wanted to keep her orgasming as long as I could. She began tapping at my thigh shakily, indicating for me to turn it off. I immediately pulled it away and turned the water off. She was puffing loudly as she tried to hold herself up. I grabbed around her waist to stabilise her, turning her to face me.

“Are you okay?” I asked worriedly.

All she could do was nod.

“You want to hop out now?”

“No,” she panted, “I want your cock now”.

“Are you sure? We can stop if you want,” I really didn’t want to push her.

“But I don’t want to stop,” she whined.

“Okay,” I knew I wasn’t going to win this one, “but you will tell me to stop as soon as you’ve had enough”.

She nodded and I picked up her left leg gently, not wanting to hurt her and pushed her against the wall. I wrapped it around my waist before pulling up the second one to hold her in place.

“Bruno?” she called.

“What is it, darling?” I asked, worried I already managed to hurt her.

“I’m cold,” she giggled.

I sighed in relief, breathing out a little laugh. I turned the shower back on, letting it soak us again.

“You ready now?”

She nodded. I angled my member to her entrance before slowly pushing it in, filling her up. I held it there for a while, not wanting to irritate her sensitive parts.

“You can move now”.

With that, I began to pull my hips back then slowly push back in. The pace was absolutely antagonising for me but I knew better than to rush her and result in hurting her. I could tell by the look on her face that even this could be too much so the pace stayed the same. I pressed careful kisses to the side of her face, showing her the affection she deserved.

“You’re so beautiful, mi Vida,” I whispered in her ear.

Her tiny breaths brushed past my face.

“Faster please, sir,” she asked nicely.

I picked up the pace, only a bit, still too scared to hurt her.

“Faster,” she whined this time.

“Okay, okay,” I chuckled.

She moaned right in my ear, just how I liked.

I can’t get enough of her moans.

“That’s right baby, show daddy just how good he makes you feel”.

I brought my hand down to her clit, feeling it throb slightly, still sensitive from the showerhead. I closed my eyes, bathing the glory that was her, feeling the warm water drip between us.

“You feel so good, Papi! I’m gonna cum!” she ran her fingers through my hair.

I rubbed her clit very carefully and felt her insides pulse around me.

“That’s right darling, cum for me,” I breathed out.

Her moans echoed around the tiled bathroom. She shuttered out every breath. I slowly pulled out and held her against my body. I held her still, waiting for her to come down from her high.

“You didn’t get to cum,” she managed to let out.

“That’s okay baby, I don’t need to,” but she had already grabbed my cock in her hands.

I almost collapsed on the spot when she did that. She pumped my cock with her delicate hands, feeling like absolute heaven. It didn’t take long for me to cum all over her stomach.

“Thank you, mi Vida,” I breathed out, kissing her forehead.

“Now, let’s actually get clean”.

⌛

I grabbed one of the towels from the towel railing, wrapping it around her body, before grabbing my own. I rubbed her arms inside the towel, drying her slightly before grabbing her clothes and helping her in them.

“You can go rest on the bed while I get changed, you must be tired,” I said, reaching for my clothes.

“I wanna help you too,” she had grabbed my clothes before me.

I smiled slightly, “thank you, baby”.

She helped me dry first before putting my clothes on.

“Wanna rest now?” I asked.

She nodded, walking over to my bed.

“Okay, we’ll have some cake later then, okay?”

“Okay, thank you, Bruno”.

My heart warmed at her words.

“You’re welcome, mi Vida”.

Author Note: I really hoped you liked this part and thank you for reading my work. As always, if you enjoyed it, please feel free to join the taglist by just asking in the comments, and the same goes for small request

Taglist: elfwoodfae diannaey rennaisancebaby fapqueen scarletambitions nik-barinova little-spooky-ghost-girl dylansoldhair r0ck3n1buk11 hoeboat101 nervoussubjectappreciator kuilty biafbunny sad0ni0n alinafaustina elitalover jessicarosequinzelfleck ike-bana

135 notes · View notes

webofpassione · 2 years

Text

Sick Days

Giorno x Reader

Content Warnings: References to Polygamy

***

The smell of coffee woke you that day; its bitter and tempting scent drawing you from the covers despite the ridiculously early hour.

So used to being one of the last awake, you were confused to glance over your shoulder while getting dressed and notice a mess of blond hair still in the bed. You finished with the last parts of your outfit’s embellishments and waltzed over, lowering yourself so you could sit alongside Giorno’s sleeping form.

His hair was always chaotic in the morning; you ran your fingers through it and brushed your fingers lightly across his cheek.

He was burning up, the flush on his cheeks more apparent than ever without his hair. Worry creased your forehead at his unnaturally shallow breathing.

You headed into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth, wrung it under the cold water and then came back to place it on his head. He stirred a little but didn’t wake. He certainly wasn’t the lightest sleeper in the group but on a normal occasion, he would have woken.

While you headed to the kitchen, you called Bucciarati, apologising for the interruption but telling him about Giorno. He sounded busy but he asked if you could look after the situation and let Mista know not to wait around.

Mista was the one brewing the coffee in the kitchen but he was clearly a little distracted as his own mug had been half downed by the Pistols. He lifted it to try and drink but nearly ended up swallowing Number Five who immediately started crying about not being noticed.

You giggled and fixed his hap-hazard hat. “How’s your morning been?”

“Awful,” he groaned. “There were four birds outside the window when I opened it. Talk about a bad omen.”

The Pistols were reflecting his outlook with their moods being far worse than normal. You winced as Number Two pulled a little harshly at your hair to get your attention.

“Hey, if you do that, you’re getting off my shoulder,” you reprimanded. Turning your focus back to Mista, you lightly pecked him on the nose before saying, “Not to make your day worse but Giorno looks like he’s caught something. You’re going to have to do your job today without him.”

Mista groaned. “Really? Man, that sucks.” He finished off his coffee to the dismay of the Pistols and grabbed his pistol off the table. “I’m going to get this over with already. I doubt I’ll track down that idiot today but I guess I should try. Look after Giorno.”

You bid him goodbye and, in the effort of not creating more dishes, reused his mug for your own coffee. Thankfully the Pistols didn’t leave markings or anything like that.

Once the kettle boiled – by which time you had finished your coffee and prepared a small breakfast – you brewed Giorno’s tea and returned to the room.

Giorno was sitting at his white wood vanity and trying desperately to fix his sloppy braid. His skin was paler than a ghost but the flush on his cheeks hadn’t gone away. Dark bags hung under scarily dull green eyes. Even his greeting smile upon seeing you was bleak.

You placed the tea down next to him and took over with his hair, undoing his shaky work and going through motions you knew well at this point.

Brush it out and use the curler to make his little rosettes, held in place by hairspray and pins. Then move the longer hairs back and plait them tightly with a finishing twirl.

“I spoke to Guido and Bruno about how you’re feeling,” you told him as he sipped at his tea.

“I can help if they need it,” Giorno mumbled. Unlike a few others you could think of, he wasn’t going to push himself though. If they were going to end up in situations where he could help, he was going to need to have the energy for it. Nobody would be helped if he overworked himself.

A cough racked his body, every movement making him wince.

You pressed a sympathetic kiss to the top of his head. “Maybe you should move back to the bed, love.”

“Maybe,” he sighed. He shakily stood, using the desk to steady himself while his head spun. “Could you get some stuff off my desk for me?”

“Only if it’s not work.”

He pursed his lips in a small smile. You crossed your arms and he was contemplating going to get it himself when another cough hit. “Alright,” he relented. “Lying down will help it pass quicker.”

You sat beside him on the bed, fully planning on making sure he was comfortable when Giorno pulled you down with a surprising amount of strength. It must have hurt judging by his expression but he held you to his side.

“I was going to tell you to try and sleep,” you said.

“I can’t sleep properly without you here.”

“Giorno Giovanna, you are so lucky Bruno isn’t here to catch you lying to me,” you teased but you didn’t move. You had had a bout of illness a week ago and you were assuming it was the same bug. And you had been planning on rearranging your day to better fit in an ill partner anyway.

The morning passed you by as a nap, interrupted only when you got up to get Giorno a new cold pack every hour. He was hot and feverish against you – far from comfortable to lie against – but you knew it made him feel better to hold somebody so there was no complaint.

You were woken up at midday by something hitting your head.

Abbacchio stood in the doorway, trying his hardest to keep his face neutral. It didn’t work and the fondness seeped through in the quirk of his lips.

“Bruno told me to drop off medicine,” he mentioned.

You picked up the bag that had landed on you. Giorno hadn’t woken; his breathing was still too shallow for your liking and his cheeks were clammy.

“I’m going to be meeting up with Mista later to assist,” Abbacchio said. “Do you need anything before I go?”

A quick glance at Giorno had you unwilling to wake him so you asking, “Are you in a rush? It’ll take me a few minutes to heat up some soup for lunch but you know he’ll be upset if he wakes up without anybody here.”

Abbacchio shrugged and sat down on the other side of the bed. “I can wait with the brat if you really need. Just go.”

You disentangled yourself from Giorno and headed for the kitchen, grabbing another bottle of water while the soup warmed on the stove. It wasn’t fresh; the only soup that survived in the house longer than a day was canned. But it didn’t take too long and you sorted out three bowls. It took a bit of manoeuvring but you got everything into the bedroom.

Abbacchio woke Giorno up with soft taps against his cheek; his own concern showing when the blond immediately launched into a coughing fit.

“Medicine, now.”

Giorno didn’t protest and the three of you sat on the bed for lunch. He managed to finish about a third of his bowl before it was too much and he gave you a sympathetic look. “I’ll have more later.”

“Just eat what you can,” you urged.

Abbacchio seemed loath to leave but he did, telling you to call him if you needed anything.

You sorted out the bowls and encouraged Giorno to drink more water while you dropped everything off in the kitchen. The afternoon was getting a little hot so you closed the windows and turned on the air conditioner at his request though you made sure it wasn’t on a very low setting that Fugo favoured.

“Are you feeling a little better?” you asked. “Do you want to maybe take a bath or just sleep some more.”

“I’ve been sleeping the whole day,” Giorno pointed out.

You shrugged. “You’re sick. It’s the least you should be doing.”

He coughed again but it was at least a little less painful than before. “I haven’t been sick since I was a child,” he complained, rubbing his chest. “I thought I would be done with this.”

You smiled and moved some of his hair out of his face. He was getting a bit more colour back into his face which made you happy. “You don’t get to just not be sick,” you said. “It’s already unfair that you still look cute right now.”

“I don’t feel cute. I feel sticky.”

“Then you must know how beautiful you are to still look like you do,” you teased. “I kind of wish I could see your baby photos.”

Giorno tilted his head as though he was thinking about it. “I don’t have any. I do remember this one time when I got ill and I kept falling asleep and waking up hoping that somebody would be home to help. My mother was gone for several days unfortunately so by the time she got back, I was already better. No real time for photos.”

You pursed your lips, annoyance prickling at your heart. A reminder of your mental list titled, People I Need To Punch.

“I didn’t really mean photos from when you were ill,” you said, keeping your annoyance tempered. “But don’t worry, I’m going to be right here until you’re feeling better.” You gave him a small kiss on the cheek and gestured to the bathroom.

“Do you want to take a bath though?”

“I think so,” he hummed. “Then I want to sleep again.”

You ended up taking an afternoon nap with him afterwards, waking up to a slight movement on the bed as Narancia crawled in later. When Abbacchio and Mista knocked on the door to wake you up, you quickly found that Bucciarati and Fugo had both joined the three of you at some point.

Giorno woke up groggily to six separate questions about how he was feeling. The smile on his face was soft when he answered that he was feeling much, much better.

#jjba giorno #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna #jjba x reader

75 notes · View notes

girlwiththeblueblood · 2 years

Text

[1] [2]

Mona: (furiously writing mathematical equations on a chalkboard and explaining her math out loud) Ok, the average human body has this much blood.. this much iron in that blood and this much carbon!

Camilo: (sitting cross legged on the floor eating popcorn and asking the occasional question.) Why is carbon important, Tia?

Mona: Because iron is for sissies, we’re thinking with steel today, Sobrino!

Pepa: (watching from the other side of the room, confused cloud above her) Should… should we stop this??

Felix: It’s math..? I think we should encourage Camilo being excited about math… not sure about the subject matter though.

Bruno: (eyes glow, checking the future to see if stopping it is a good idea) …if they start making a list of people to use for the blood sword, that’s when we need to intervene… (shrugs and drinks coffee.)

Felix: …You are a little too calm about this, amigo.

Bruno: hehe, I see the math she hides, this (gestures to Camilo and Mona) this is child play right now!

Camilo: But what kind of sword would you make?

Mona: (breaths through her nose) Only the most deadly and most complex weapon to make on this planet! (Draws a diagram next to all the math chaos) The Japanese katana!

Camilo: (high pitched noise of pure excitement)

Pepa: We should stop this..

Felix: Yes… but now I want to know more.

Bruno: (over the edge of the his coffee mug) Five more minutes~

Felix: What.. what happens in five minutes?

Camilo: Who do we use!?

Mona: Everyone who’s ever made this family cry, here I’ll make a list! Starting with that bitch with the dead fish!

Pepa and Felix: (rushes over) No!

Bruno: huh, two minutes.. that’s a record.

#Encanto #camilo madrigal #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #bruno madrigal #encanto ocs #Mona Athelinda

20 notes · View notes

tamagochiie · 3 years

Text

the best of luck | tsukishima kei

pairing. timeskip!tsukishima kei x fem!reader

synopsis. It's only a few minutes before your wedding, and despite having been told not to, Tsukishima sneaks into your room to say a few words.

words count. 1.2k

tags. comfort, angst

song. Places We Won’t Walk by Bruno Major

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” Despite the purse of your lips, you’re still smiling. Your voice is just as gentle as the day you reciprocated Tsuikshima’s feelings.

It had been just outside the gym. It had been right after their win against Nekoma and Tsukishima was still riding on his high, but he swore to you over and over again that he was sound and sober, that he knew exactly what he was doing.

You tilt your head and watch as Tsukishima relieves himself with a shuddering breath, his eyes trailing down the lace of your wedding dress, your bouquet snug in your hold. He looks at you in endearment, with all the love in the world and despite his usually stoic expression plastered across his face, he’s struggling to suppress the want to cry.

“I just had to see you,” Tsukishima says as his resolve to remain unfazed begins to sway like an old tree caught in the strong wind of a storm. You were that for him, a storm that made him sway and howl, worrying that he might just completely fall.

But if a tree were to fall without anyone around, could you really say it fell? That’s what Tsukishima had always wandered.

“What was so important you couldn’t wait until after the wedding?” You raise a brow, still smiling. “Something you couldn’t say in your speech?”

You notice the way he lowers his head, as if hiding behind the frame of his glasses as he shakes his head ‘no’. You turn away from the mirror and face him completely, patiently waiting for him to speak.

“This is something that’s only meant for you,” He mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. .

“Well, let’s hear it then, c’mon.”

He clears his throat, snapping his head up to look at you. If he can at least look at you in the eyes, then the rest of the evening will be a lot easier. But when he finally meets your gaze, he melts almost instantly. And there’s an ache in his heart, one that he’s been trying to ignore for the longest time.

“I just wanted to say ‘thank you’,” Tsukishima begins, “because if it hadn’t been for you, if you hadn’t chosen me and chosen to stick with me and cheer me on during all those years, I don’t think I would’ve achieved the dreams I never knew I wanted…”

“...Tsukki…”

“I know I hadn’t always been the best to you and that my pride had wedged itself between you and I more than I should’ve let it. And I’m sorry that I ever let it…”

Your eyes begin to sting as it wells up and your grip around the bouquet tightens. You pick at the ribbon that’s wound around the stick, nearly peeling it off.

“You don’t have to --”

“I want to.” He interjects softly. “Please let me continue.”

Against your better judgement, knowing that you’ll have to deal with quickly retouching your makeup just minutes before you walk down the aisle, you nod your head.

“I feel so lucky that I met you and that -- no matter what had happened, even during the worst of times, I had still been graced by someone so patient and loving as you. I think...I think if I had just spoken honestly and told you to stay that night, I could’ve been the groom instead, don’t you think?”

Your lower lip trembles and you try to blink away the tears, drawing a deep breath as if you were taking in all the air in the room to keep you floating. You know you shouldn’t, especially when you’re just a few strides away from the aisle, but you nod. With regret and shame, and all the ugly secret feelings you shoved down to the pit of your stomach, you nod.

“Yes.” You admit, sniffling. “If you had told me to stay and had been transparent with me, and told me you wanted the same, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now. Maybe this wouldn’t be as painful as I thought it would be or as hard.” You tread towards Tsukishima, and you hear him hold his breath as you bring your hand up to his cheek, “But you and I can’t live off of ‘maybes’. We deserve better than that, don’t you think?”

You watch as Tsukishima’s face -- the face that never painted itself any other color instead of one for annoyance and rare joy that had been made because of you -- contorts in pain and remorse. His eyes run watery, falling down his cheeks and staining his glasses. In front of you, on the day you marry his best friend, you watch as Tsukishima finally succumbs to his emotions and shows you just how much he cares.

“I only came here to tell you ‘thank you’.” He mumbles, sighing breathily. “I just wanted you to know that and I never had the intention of hurting you --”

“I know.” You tell him, cutting him off from his babbling as you wipe his tears away with your thumb. Despite the throb in your chest and the mess that’s been made by your own tears, you’re still smiling. “I know,” You whisper, “I always knew even when you never said it to me, but I just wish you told me.”

Tsukishime places his hand over yours as he leans into your touch, “I love you.”

“And I’ll always love you, but I’m getting married today.” Your painful reminder has Tsukshima swallowing thickly, like he’s accepting the reality that from this day onward, he’s lost you completely. “Maybe in some other life it’s us.”

“I’m jealous of them.”

You chuckle. “So am I.”

It takes everything in you to pull your hand away and bring it back to holding your bouquet.

Tsukishima takes another good look at you as if capturing a mental image for himself to keep, a reminder of what he could’ve had and never will. A reminder that’ll haunt him into his next relationship -- if he ever has the courage to enter another one.

He spins on the heels off his shoes and reaches for the door, but he stops for a moment before looking over his shoulder, “I wish you the best of luck,” He says genuinely, “Please don’t make Yamaguchi cry, he looks so ugly when he does.”

You snort, “If he does, I’ll apologize over and over again until he takes me back.”

You watch as his shoulders fall, his blonde head of hair bobbing to you in agreement. “And if he ever makes you cry --”

“He won’t.” You state confidently. “And even if he does, the man will practically grovel until I take him back.”

Tsukishima can only hum in response, the small smile on his lips falls.

He exits the room with his head down to the floor and his thoughts clouded with ‘what ifs’ and even more ‘maybes’. He was naive to think that seeing you before the beginning of his end would soften the blow, but it was ignorant of him to think that confronting you wouldn’t be as painful as the day he heard you’d be dating his best friend or getting engaged for that matter.

He always believed he had time, but time was not kind.

So there he stands, behind his best friend, listening to the both of you exchange heartfelt vows and crying happy tears as you both seal your future with a kiss. There he is, rocking back and forth in the wind of his emotions and feelings for you.

He falls, but no one notices; they’re all too busy adoring the bride and groom, so maybe he hasn’t fallen at all.

158 notes · View notes