#(and he knows that and he’s very reassuring and he’s told me a thousand times he isn’t going anywhere)

[anonymolly]

…

[pochaccoups]

cw — nsfw minors dni, possessive reader, reader referred to as a woman, oral (f receiving), mention of breeding, creampie, i need other people to stop perceiving my man

Some days dating an idol is everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

Other days you’re reminded that millions, maybe even tens of millions, of other people want him. You’re reminded by the Instagram comments, videos, Tweets, news articles that fawn over him, all of which garner thousands of views and likes from other people who agree—he’s the perfect man. Strong and buff and hot and kind and gorgeous.

They’re not dating him though. You are. And it’s not that you’re insecure—far from it, in fact, because of Seungcheol’s attentiveness—but sometimes when your feed is riddled with things like fancalls where your boyfriend has been trained to play along as a fan’s boyfriend, you just need a little reassurance.

One of the things you love about dating Seungcheol is that for you he’s built a space where you can be entirely honest with him about any anxieties you have. It means that when you do need his reassurance, you don’t hesitate in voicing it.

“Seungcheol, you’re mine right?”

“I hope so,” he quips, scrolling along on his laptop. Unfortunately for you, he’s too accustomed to your clinginess, which means that sometimes he fails to recognise what you want to hear from him.

You swat at his shoulder like an irritated cat. “Tell me you’re mine.”

He looks at you then and realises you’re being entirely serious.

“Why wouldn’t I be yours? Did I do something?” he asks, now shutting his laptop over. Whatever schedule he’d been emailed about gets shoved to the very back of his brain, replaced with only you.

“No, I just-”

“I can’t have a conversation with someone without bringing you up, and you think I’m not yours?” he says, reaching forward to wrap his hands around yours. His thumbs rub circles into your skin because you’ve told him once or twice how comforting you find it.

“I panic if I don’t have the Hello Kitty cherry keychain you got me when I go overseas, and you think I’m not yours?”

You giggle, growing suddenly shy at his words. His ability to woo you with his words even after two years is impressive, though it shouldn’t be a surprise when his suave and charming attitude was what pulled you to him in the first place.

You give a yelp as he tugs you into his lap without warning, presses you flush against his hard body with the strong hands you love so much.

“I’ve been looking at a ring for you, and you think I’m not yours?”

Your mouth parts with bewilderment and your heart skips a beat, though you barely have the time to comprehend the implications of his confession because he’s ghosting his lips against the curve of your neck.

“Have I not been good at showing it? Is that it?” he asks, grazing his teeth against your skin. You’re under his spell already, eyes rolling into your head as you grow breathless. His palms are hot, gliding under your t-shirt—his t-shirt—sending a shiver along your spine. “Or is my princess just clingy?”

You pull away from him just to pout in his face, but his glassy eyes are dark with desire and it means you don’t stand a chance. Not when his hands have moved to your thighs, inching their way between your legs, rubbing softly at your clothed crotch in a way that has you bracing against him immediately.

“Tell me, baby,” he urges, ghosting his lips against your neck, turning you into a puddle with such ease that it’s embarrassing.

“I want you to show me, Cheol,” you admit. Despite the quiver in your voice, you’re stern. “Show me you’re mine.”

He wastes no time tearing your shorts and panties down your legs, sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you, and diving straight between your legs.

He eats you like a man starved, laps at your clit like it’s life or death, peers up at you with hearts in his eyes as you moan and cry so sweetly it makes his dick swell in no time.

Seungcheol has you all mapped out; knows you like the back of his hand. He knows exactly how you’ll whine when he sucks on your clit, how you’ll tug at his hair when he glides his tongue through your folds, how you’ll buck your hips when he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue because you need more.

“More, Cheol,” you cry, echoing his thoughts. So predictable.

He grins against your cunt, pulling back just to let a little glob of saliva drop on it before his mouth latches onto you again. Seungcheol eats you out with a determination that’s dangerous. He’s aware of the telltale signs of your impending orgasm; your moans growing higher and your body unable to stop shifting, and when he knows you’re close, he’ll stop at nothing to give you what you want. What you need.

His tongue grows ruthless, dragging over every inch of your pussy with vigour until you’re crying his name at the top of your lungs and your fingernails are digging into the roots of his hair. He finally lets up a little, just enough so as not to overstimulate you as you cum, and he’s lapping up every drop of your arousal like he hasn’t seen water in weeks.

“I’ll never get over how sweet you taste, fuck,” he utters between the sounds of him slurping at your cunt, and it’s so lewd that your entire body flashes hot.

“Need you in me, baby, please,” you whimper, watching your boyfriend pull away from you with glistening, swollen lips, with his chin and cheeks covered in you. He’s quick to shrug his pants and boxers down his legs, frenzied almost, like he’ll die if he’s not touching you.

Seungcheol leans over you to melt his lips against yours. He’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth in a way that should be overbearing, but there’s an underlying tenderness in the way he kisses you that feels more like he’s pouring his love into you.

“Yours,” he mumbles against your lips. You flinch when he glides his cock along your sensitive cunt, bumps your swollen clit because he can’t help but torture you just a little when you’re all splayed out for him so pretty. His tip catches your hole, making you keen when he still doesn’t slip inside.

“Seungcheol,” you whine, locking your ankles behind his back, pulling him in closer. His face softens when he sees how badly you need it, when he remembers that he’s not making you work for anything, because he has one job and one job only right now—to show you he’s all yours.

In one fluid motion, he slides all the way in, buries himself in you to the absolute hilt like it’s his home, the stretch so good you practically sob. He wastes no time, fucking you with tenacity, letting go of any semblance of self-control the second he feels the warmth of your cunt wrapped around him.

“God, how could I be anyone else’s when this is the pussy I get?” he grunts, fingertips gripping at your hips, guiding you along his fat cock so deliciously that your eyes roll into the back of your head. “My fucking dream woman.”

“You fuck me so good, Cheollie,” you moan, your fingers finding their way to the back of his neck, tugging at the slightly grown out hair there. You pull him in close, your face next to his so your breaths can intertwine, and you whisper, “all mine?”

“All yours. Only yours,” he replies, his thrusts growing faster, harder, more erratic, more debauched from how your pussy grips him, sucks him in. “Let me fill you up, baby. I’ll give you everything.”

You whine at the thought, making him hiss when you clamp down around his cock, but he refuses to slow his pace. In fact, he only fucks you harder into the couch. “Please, yes.”

“Maybe I’ll put my kids in your belly, huh? Will that convince you?”

You nod your head frantically. “Want it, Cheol.”

He only replies with a moan of his own, taking your hands in his and pinning them to the couch. His cock throbs, your cunt dripping wet as you both near the edge of your release.

“Gonna cum for me?” he asks, strained, like he’s holding himself back.

You only nod again, and Seungcheol’s thumb finds your clit, drawing circles until finally he unwinds the knot inside your belly, and you cum with another cry of his name, your walls clenching around him so harshly that he’s spilling inside of you not a moment later.

The kiss he gives you after is so contrastingly soft that you nearly pass out, but it’s the most Choi Seungcheol characteristic you can think of—to fuck you like an animal and kiss you like a loving boyfriend after.

“I love you,” he says, his voice still husky with his orgasm, but there’s nothing but sincerity in his words.

“I love you more,” you reply, smiling like the angel you’re not.

“Not possible.”

“Oh? I don’t believe you, so I guess you’ll just have to show me again.”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes. He pretends to be unamused. He loves it though. He loves being yours.

[fastandcarlos]

Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: fans are beginning to notice your absence around the paddock, little do they know the amazing reason you’re finding yourself hiding away

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by schecoperez, danielricciardo and 1,945,053 others

maxverstappen1: spending time with some of my favourite little humans this week in monaco 🏎️🏁

189,492 comments

username1: yet another race week without an appearance from y/n

username2: pls just give us the update we’re desperate for max

landonorris: are you there favourite human being??

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris always the favourite uncle

username3: I can’t wait to see this man with kids of his own

username4: max as a dad sounds soooo cute

schecoperez: it was lovely to see them in the paddock again this week!!

lewishamilton: a little birdie secretly told me that they’re actually a fan of me

maxverstappen1: @/lewishamilton whoever told you that is a liar!

ynusername: wish I could be there with you guys 🩷

username5: omg y/n

username6: is this a sign??? are they definitely still together???

username7: there’s still hope yet…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, maxverstappen1 and 582,010 others

redbullracing: all smiles for max as he finds himself in pole position heading into tomorrow 🏆

tagged: maxverstappen1

39,403 comments

username8: was it ever really in doubt??

maxverstappen1: thanks for all your support team! ❤️

username9: he smiles the way I smile seeing y/n interacting with him yesterday

username10: I bet he still wishes y/n was there though…

ynusername: so proud!! bring it home max 🏆

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I’ll do it just for you 💕💕

username11: so how come y/n can comment but can’t be bothered to show up and actually support max

username12: @/username11 you can still be supportive from a distance!

schecoperez: congrats max!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by username14, f1wags and 14,403 others

formula1updates: max came on stream tonight and reassured everyone that y/n is doing well and that hopefully she’ll be back in the paddock soon. sending you lots of love y/n ❤️🏎️

472 comments

username13: I really hope that it’s nothing serious

username14: WE LOVE YOU Y/N TAKE AS MUCH TIME AS YOU NEED

username15: thank you max for reassuring us all 🥺

username16: anyone else notice how he sounded like he was tearing up a bit talking about y/n on his stream earlier

username17: at least we know they’re both okay, that’s the main thing

username18: I can’t wait to see y/n back in the paddock too 🙏🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carmenmmundt, maxverstappen1 and 749,508 others

ynusername: the reason we’ve been a little quiet lately…we’re so happy to share with you all that the first two legged verstappen baby is on their way very soon 💕🥰

tagged: maxverstappen1

48,399 comments

landonorris: stfu you guys, congratulations!! can’t believe you kept this a secret from me!!

maxverstappen1: cannot wait for this new adventure with you, couldn’t ask for anyone better than you 🩷🥰

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 you’re gonna be the best mumma!!

username19: woah baby verstappen!!

danielricciardo: uncle daniel is ready to spoil this baby rotten!

redbullracing: emailing the suppliers to order a thousand red bull baby grows as we speak 😂

username20: I’m not even the one having a baby but I feel like all my dreams have come true

alex_albon: congratulations to you both…lily puts her name down for babysitting duties btw

ynusername: @/alex_albon she can have all the baby cuddles in the world!

oscarpiastri: this is the best news - can’t wait to meet your little one!

username21: preparing myself to be spammed by dad max soon! 🔥

georgerussell63: always knew you guys would be the first to settle…so happy for you both!

carlossainz55: beyond excited for you both!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 839,403 others

maxverstappen1: making the most of all these bump cuddles and mornings with my best friend, pregnancy really is a beautiful thing!

tagged: ynusername

93,492 comments

username22: I feel like I’m watching the cutest romcom with these posts ☺️

landonorris: how come you never let me rest my head in your lap and play with my hair??

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris start carrying my child and I might start listening

username23: these are the softest photos to ever exist 🥺

logansargeant: way to make the rest of us feel single guys 😂

ynusername: thank you for always taking the best care of me - I could never do this without you 🥰

username24: y/n and max reenacting every fanfic ever made 😭

username25: they’re just a dream 🥺

charles_leclerc: why is alex sending me these photos telling me I need to be more like max…

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc I’ll give you some tips next race weekend 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, alexandrasaintmleux and 682,190 others

ynusername: people often ask me what I see in max and why I decided he’d be the perfect father for my children, well, here you are…😂

tagged: maxverstappen1

78,392 comments

username26: omg y/n this is amazing!

landonorris: officially my favourite instagram post ever!!

maxverstappen1: why you always gotta do me dirty 😂😂

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 you still look handsome in my eyes love

username27: shout-out to y/n for always finding a way to humiliate max

alex_albon: you’re lucky you’re pregnant, brave posting these y/n 😂

ynusername: @/alex_albon why else do you think I waited until he was on the plane to montreal 😉

username28: yet another reminder why these two are my favourite couple ever

georgerussell63: how do you always manage to get away with posting stuff like this 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 1,249,504 others

maxverstappen1: a post full of appreciation for my beautiful wife, you blow me away everyday with how well you’re coping, I couldn’t be prouder of you 🩷🥺

tagged: ynusername

59,492 comments

username29: I just want a boy who loves me as much as max loves y/n

ynusername: thank you for always being by my side, I’d be lost without you ❤️

landonorris: y/n honestly deserves a medal for putting up with you!

maxverstappen1: @/landonorris no one asked for you to appear in my comments section thank you 😂

username30: becoming a dad has made max soppy but I’m not complaining

lewishamilton: can we just take a moment to appreciate how amazing y/n looks in pregnancy

ynusername: @/lewishamilton all thanks to my personal stylist 😘

username31: officially in my feels now

lance_stroll: not long to go for you guys now surely!

username32: I don’t think I can wait another three months for this baby to arrive

username33: how am I this jealous of a couple that I adore??

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, schecoperez and 493,507 others

ynusername: bumpin’ along nicely 💕

48,492 comments

maxverstappen1: I miss you so much, can’t wait to get home and give you all the cuddles in the world!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 we miss you too - I’m officially unable to tie my shoelaces now 😂

username34: 😭😭😭😭

username35: I literally can’t cope anymore

schecoperez: max does not stop talking about you btw

ynusername: @/schecoperez tell him to shut up and concentrate on the race!

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I just can’t help it…I’m so excited!!

username36: I feel like I’m scrolling through pinterest at this point 🥺

carmenmmundt: I’m at home this weekend…omw now!

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt door is unlocked, non-alcoholic wine fresh out the fridge 🥂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and 1,593,597 others

maxverstappen1: the end of another season, so proud to add another driver’s championship to the collection, but most of all I’m so proud of my wife. no rest for me, off season this year is spent preparing those finishing touches for our family of three ❤️🏆🎉

tagged: redbullracing and ynusername

148,403 comments

ynusername: could not be prouder of you - now let’s go and have a baby!!

username37: max’s year just keeps getting better and better!

landonorris: congrats bro…looking forward to the baby updates soon 💪🏻

danielricciardo: looking forward to stopping by the apartment to introduce your child to their favourite uncle!

schecoperez: @/danielricciardo I think you’ll find that role is mine

username38: never in doubt champ 🏆

username39: and now for the baby spam…

username40: can’t wait to see you become a dad max!

charles_leclerc: you could’ve let me have this one…you’re winning in life anyway 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, ynusername and 2,943,953 others

maxverstappen1: welcome to the world little one, the missing piece to our jigsaw is here and we’ve never felt more complete ☺️

189,472 comments

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his gn s/o telling him that they can't sleep in the same bed as him because they will cling onto him like a koala bear in their sleep?

Sunday: ‘all the more reason for me to keep you close.’ He says smiling as he pulls you into bed with him.

And he wasn’t joking when he says this because then he’ll know that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon without his knowledge, seeing as how all he had to do was open his eyes and you’d be there, clinging onto him very much like you said you would.

He’ll also use it as an excuse to watch over you as you slept, something he doesn’t find weird or creepy as he expects lovers to watch one another in their most vulnerable states.

It’s for your own protection he swears but then why did it feel controlling?

(You never speak up about this out of a deep guttural feeling that you should wait to see how this all plays out, he couldn’t keep this character up forever. You love him but…something didn’t feel quite right but you were more than willing to play ignorant for the time being.)

Sunday finds this information to be adorable and utterly sweet.

However in private he wonders to himself, more specifically about who could’ve possibly told you that clinging onto your loved one during the night was anything other than prof of your love but just in a different form, and ways he could go about proving them wrong in a thousand different ways.

Until then he’ll indulge you in anything and everything to prove that there was no one out there that could compare to him as a lover.

Welt: ‘there’s no need to feel embarrassed, if anything I’d be more than honoured.’

Welt loves the honesty and trust you have to confine such information about yourself to him in confidence.

It’s a reminder of the strong foundations of your relationship, however he couldn’t help but find it cute that you’d ever think he’d be annoyed at the prospect of being cuddled at night.

If anything it makes him love you all the more if that was even possible.

He won’t pressure you into sharing a bed with him but he’d be more than happy if you felt comfortable enough in doing so.

He’s not a dick, he’s a gentleman.

He’s also extremely reassuring about it too and will tell you that he doesn’t mind you clinging onto him at all. If anything he’d probably encourage you to cling onto him in your sleep if that’s what helps you sleep easier.

Welt is more than willing to accommodate for you no matter what, just say the word and Welt will give you his unwavering support.

Gallagher: ‘don’t temp me with a good time sweetheart.’ He’d tease whilst pulling you in close until you were nose to nose and chest to chest.

News just in; big intimidating wolverine man likes cuddles. He’s a secret cuddle bug, though it ain’t a secret to you, obviously.

He just loves the feeling of you close by, knowing that you were just within arms reach of him were reason enough to have him sleeping with a content smile upon his face.

He’s just finding more and more reasons to squeeze you into oblivion because you’re just so fucking adorable and precious in his eyes.

He will want to prove you wrong in not sharing a bed with him by making you share the bed with him all the time. So you might as well get use to it because you’re not leaving anytime soon with his strong of a hold he has on you.

If anything Gallagher is worse when it comes to clinging on to you in his sleep. Firstly he won’t let go and if he feels the slightest bit of pull, he’s already shifting his body weight further on to you, trapping you beneath him and making it neigh impossible to move even a muscle.

Blade: ‘as if you weren’t already clinging onto me like a koala.’ He’d say sarcastically as you’d pout and smack his arm before moving away from him to convey how ‘hurt’ you were to him.

‘That was a compliment you worm.’ - Blade.

‘Well it didn’t feel like one.’ - you, huffing as your lips went into a full blown pout.

Your efforts in making him apologise fails as within one swift movement, you were caged in his arms as you could feel him breathing down your neck.

‘Look who’s the clingy one now.’ You’d try to tease, only to hear him chuckle. ‘No. Still you.’ He’d reply and you couldn’t help but cuddle further into him, uncaring of the fact that you were still very much proving him right.

Blade may act like he hates you clinging onto him but yet he couldn’t help but melt into your embrace and find the much needed sleep he’s been missing out on for so long.

A sense of momentary peace washes over him whenever you touched in, whether that be a graze or otherwise, his mind seems to clear with you; sure he’ll tease you but if he genuinely didn’t like it he would’ve told you straight up, after all Blade’s not the type to mince his words.

He’d much rather have you cling onto him for the rest of your lives than never be unapologetically clingy at all. He never admits it but he loves it when you cling to him in your sleep, you made him feel like he was with more than he ever gives himself credit for.

Dan Heng: Not gonna lie, he’d be in absolute heaven if you were to cling to him in your sleep, but his face would be like this the entire time: 😐

He’s trying his hardest not to let his true feeling show but he somehow fails whenever you shift in a way he doesn’t like and without thinking, pulls you back into his arms and keeps you caged against his chest.

You’re most certainly not complaining but then again you never expected Dan Heng to be the affectionate type when sleeping.

Dan Heng on the other hand took this opportunity to hide away his face into your head/neck area, but it’s not out of embarrassment, but more so because his dragon noodle self wants to leech off of your warmth and engraving your scent into his very being.

‘Are you purring?’ - you in the middle of the night.

‘No. Maybe…*sigh* yes.’ - Dan Heng probably.

He acts like this wasn’t something he’s been wishing for ages, when in actuality it was probably the first thing he’s dreamt of when he first discovered that he had a crush on you.

Something that he has yet to admit to you to this day but never will because it’s a hill he’s all too willing to die on.

[fungateshortcakes]

Fight or flight (Logan Howlett x Reader)

Summary: Your sister invited you and your husband Logan to her wedding! Too bad that the wedding was held in your hometown, which was days away from america if you drove by car. There was no other option than to use a plane - Logan wasn't exactly thrilled about it.

Warnings: implied sexual themes (Blowjobs, anal fingering), flight anxiety, possible spelling mistakes bc english Isn't my first language, overall just comforting fluff

Wordcount: 1.1k

Authors note: Does anyone want to peg Logan? Or have some sub!Logan stuff in general? I would write something like that because I have seen so little fics of it, but that makes me wonder if that’s even something people want :/ #JusticeForSubLogan

__________________________________

Logan hated this, he was only doing it for you. Your sister was getting married tomorrow and invited you and Logan to take part at the ceremony. Very nice of her, that also wasn't the issue. The problem was - she was getting married in your hometown, which was days away from america if you drove by car.

So that's why Logan found himself in a plane that was just about to take off.

You had booked a three-seat row to be a bit more comfortable on the eight-hour flight. You could store your bags on the empty middle seat between you and Logan to have free range of motion for your feet and legs. While you sat at the window, he was the furthest away from it. He couldn't bear to see the ground thousands of feets below you, it made his skin crawl.

He had fastened the seatbelt to the point where it was noticeably too tight against his abdomen, but it gave himself a sense of security. That and his right hand clawing at the arm rest while his left hand was crushing squeezing yours as if he was pushing out a baby. He certainly breathed like that was happening right now.

"Relax, the plane hasn't even started to move yet" you giggled softly, wincing at his strong grip. It definitely was a sight to see your husband all tense and stiff next to you, his chest heaving like he had run a marathon. It was amusing and pitiful at the same time.

He gritted his teeth and huffed, trying to calm himself. "We're gonna crash" he pressed out, looking down to his feet. "We are not gonna crash" you told him, squeezing his hand in reassurance. You knew about his past regarding planes and flying in general, that it was traumatic for him. Not to mention his fear of hights that made him feel anxious like nothing else. He felt sick to the stomach, like he was about to throw up. His chest was thight and he couldn't help the laboured breaths escaping him. You weren't doing this to see him suffer, but you weren't about to travel for a week by car and boat just to be at your sisters wedding for a day and traveling back for a week to america.

You lifted his hand up to your lips, kissing his knuckles soothingly. "Nothing will happen to you, nothing will happen to me. I promise"

He scoffed. "I hate you for putting me through this"

You nodded your head and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I know" you cooed. "Don't think I am doing this for fun. But at least she is my only sister to get married, so when we are back in america, you won't have to set foot in a plane for a long while, okay?"

Your words only did a little to sooth his nerves, but he nodded his head anyway. It was one, sharp nod followed by a thick swallow. Logan jumped as the plane started moving suddenly, getting out of his parking spot and heading to the departure zone. He pressed his eyes shut and held his breath, mumbling something to himself you couldn't make out.

You rubbed your hand up and down his arm, softly shushing him. You felt a bit useless in this situation. You wanted to help him, but there was no way you could. Nothing you would say would take his fear and anxiety away, but you were determinded to make it better.

The closer the plane got to the departure zone, the faster was Logans breathing. A few flight attendents passing through had been worried about him, asking if he needed something. But he was so scared he couldn't even answer nor look at them.

"First time flying" you lied awkwardly and asked for a pair of earplugs for him. They were brought to you shortly before the plane was starting to become faster, speeding down the lane and picking up the pace. Logan was busy doing some breathing excercises so he wouldn’t completely pass out. That would have been a better option though, because the second the plane took off and gained more and more distance from the ground, his ears ached like a dagger had been rammed into one ear and went out the other. He hissed deeply at the change of pressure, his grip on the armrest nearly cracking the plastic. For others, the pressure gave them a mild headache, but with his heightened sense of hearing, this was torture, like his skull was slowly ripping apart at the seams.

You shoved your bags on the middle seat under your feet and put the armrests up between the seats so you could pull Logans head closer to you. You twisted the earplugs into his ears and held his head against your chest, one arm looped back over his shoulder and covering his eyes, the other on his chest, feeling the strong and erratic thumpthumpthump of his heart. You kissed the crown of his head, your hand moving from his heart to his arm, softly rubbing and squeezing. He whined softly in your grip at the pain the change of pressure brought him. It was still there, but not as bad.

"Shh, I know. It's gonna be over soon. I won't ever take you on a plane again, I'm so sorry" you whispered to him. "Once that wedding is over and we get to the hotel room, I'm gonna make you re-live our own honeymoon. Gonna make you feel good, I'm gonna make you cum so much to make you forget this experience. I want to make it up to you, baby" you cooed into his ear, your quiet voice only muffled, but he heard you anyway. The image of you handling his cock flashed across his mind. When you were really into pleasuring him, nothing could pull your mouth off his dick. You would be busy devouring him, a few fingers loosening up his tight hole while your tounge circled the throbbing, angry red tip of his cock, making him cum his brains out by just pressing the pads of your fingers against that delicious sweet spot inside him. And you wouldn't stop until he only remembered your name.

He shuddered in your grasp and only a small smile pulled at his lips. Well, at least there was something to look forward to. And he was sure you'd pamper him for fighting through this.

As the plane was at it's desired height, his headache lessened and you were able to let him go to sit up straight again, but not before he gave you a soft, thankful kiss. He was a bit calmer now, not as rigid anymore. All thanks to you. He could do this...but only if you continued to hold his hand and smile at him as if there was not a single thing to worry about in this world.

[andillneverbethesame]

hey! Could you write anything with James Potter based off the black dog by Taylor? This song has been killing me for the last weeks and I love your writing!! If not that’s okay! Have a nice day 🤗🤗

THE BLACK DOG

❥ james potter x reader

❥ warnings: cheating, smut...

❥word count: 2k

❥ a/n: i love this song sm

my ts masterlists pt 1 pt 2

"where were you?" you asked him as soon as he got home. it was two in the morning, three hours past the time he promised to come back.

he doesn't evn bother to give you a "hello" kiss on the top of your head like he used to. he doesn't even look at you. it's been like this for a while now.

"at the black dog. with the boys," he said. short answer. like always.

you knew he was at the black dog. he always forgot to turn his location off. but you also share yours with all of 'the boys': sirius black, remus lupin and peter pettigrew and you knew very well they weren't at the black dog.

so if he wasn't with them, who was he with?

the answer is a pretty ginger girl with green eyes who used to go to the same school with you and james.

lily evans.

she was someone you've always felt insecure of because of her past with james. the two of them dated for about a year and broke up just about half a year before you and james started going out.

he always reassured you and even lily told you there's nothing but friendship between them and you believed them.

you wouldn't believe them now.

"interesting," you mumbled, trying your best not to start shouting at him.

"what?" he stopped on his way to the bathroom and turned around to face you.

you shook your head and laid your head on the pillow.

james got into your shared bed about half an hour later. you could hear him sigh a couple of times and also pace around your bathroom before he decided to go and lie down with his back facing you.

"goodnight, i love you," you whispered loud enough for him to hear but. . .

he said nothing back.

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

when you and james broke up, a few weeks later, it felt like the end of the world.

this break up wasn't as dramatic as in all the movies and books. james came home from merlin knows where and said, "i can't do this anymore."

you knew what he meant. he couldn't continue pretending you two were going to be fine, he even stopped calling a lunatic whenever you brought lily up. he couldn't continue coming back home, wishing someone else was waiting for him and then pretending it's her lying next to him in bed. he couldn't continue pretending that you're both not dying inside.

when james told you that, you only nodded, whispering, "okay". there was nothing left to say and nothing left to do. all was already said and done. you were exhausted fighting for the both of you. the ship was sinking and you were going down with it.

james seemed to be surprised when you didn't start yelling at him or crying and begging him to stay. you watched his confusion. he looked as if he wanted to say something but he decided not to.

"alright, then." he went upstairs and packed his things. well, not really, he was already packed. you saw his black bag stuffed with his clothes under your bed about a week ago and decided not to wonder how long it was there.

when he came back down, he saw you had not moved from the spot on your sofa.

"okay, um, well. . ." he paused. "i'm going."

you nodded, your face emotionless as you stared at the wall, not sparing him a glance.

you heard him place something on the kitchen table and judging by the sound, you figured out it was his keys to this flat.

"i'm sorry, it ended like this. i wish i could change things, but i can't. i'm really sorry." he waited for your reply, but you couldn't bring yourself to, scared you'll break down. he didn't deserve to see you cry, not anymore. it surprised you that for the first time, he apologized and sounded genuine, making the situation a thousand times harder for you.

his steps faded into the hallway. the door opened, and then closed. and after that, you finally allowed yourself to let it out.

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

despite the fact this heartbreak and the break up in general wasn't unexpected and your heart has been shattered for the past few months, you couldn't bring yourself to move on, or at least try to, and the only thing you did was grieving.

you didn't think it was fair. you tried your best to save the relationship, killing yourself in the process and yet, james was the only one leaving unscathed, his heart untouched as if the love you two once shared meant nothing to him.

you could imagine him and lily doing the thing you two used to do, too. you'd bet all your money they went out to dinner every other night, probably to black dog, or they'd have a night in with all their friends.

speaking of friends, remus was the one who checked up on you the most. he showed up at your flat at least three times a week with a different big chocolate bar every time and you two would spend time talking. you opened to remus about a lot of things, but you doubted you would ever open up up the way you did to james.

"he accidentally called lily by your name, the other day." he told you one thursday evening.

"´huh? did he. . ."

"yeah. . . me, james and sirius were out and passed a floral shop. james stopped and said, "would you wait for me, lads? i gotta buy some flowers for y/n." he didn't even realise he misspoke. and then, he came out with a bouquet of peonies even though lily told him she likes daffodils."

you almost choke on your chocolate when you heard he bought peonies. they were yours favourite.

"yeah. i told him and he just nervously laughed and went back for daffodils. . . by the way he still didn't tell his parents you two aren't together anymore so whenever mia calls and asks about you, james straight up lies to her."

you frowned at the memories of his parents. you loved them and you were going to miss them so much.

"does lily know?" you asked. not that it was any of your business. you were just curious.

"yeah. it upsets her, but she doesn't really say anything about it." he paused and sadly smiled at you. "we really miss you around, y/n. even though we all like lily, everyone is pissed at james for hurting you. even sirius. he'd come to visit too, but he's afraid james could find out."

"i get he's afraid, but james hasn't got a saying in who sirius hangs out with. just as i hadn't got a saying in who james shags," you joked. but remus didn't find that funny. "tell sirius and peter i miss them too. and that they can come around anytime they want."

"will do."

silence prevailed between you two. but it wasn't awkward. it was actually pretty comfortable.

"y/n?" remus broke it.

"yeah?"

"you'll be okay, right?"

you nodded, although if you were honest, you weren't really sure.

"i will be. i have to be."

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

in that same very moment, about five miles south, in lily evans's flat, was a couple in a heated moment.

the girl's bright red lipstick was all over his face and neck, all their clothes were already long forgotten on the cold bathroom floor as lily turned on the shower, the hot drops soaking up their bodies immediately.

james's hands traveled from lily's face to her chest, then waist, and then her ass and thighs. she whimpered into his mouth and he swallowed it like a starved man.

and just then, a memory hit him hard. this has happened before. not with lily, but with you.

as james pretended not to be lost in his head while pleasuring lily with his fingers and lips, he could not stop thinking about you.

what the fuck is wrong with you? he asked himself. lily moaned his name out loud and dugged her nails into his skin. you barely think of her for whole two weeks and now you can't get her out of your mind? why now?

lily's body was shaking in the same way yours was, her head was thrown back and her mouth was wide opened with her eyes closed shut. james's mind betrayed him. he couldn't stop wishing this was you.

did you hate him? he wondered. you had to. he hated himself in that moment for what he did to you.

he wondered how you were doing. he knew remus came to visit you quite often but he never felt brave enough to ask him about you.

"james!" lily screamed as her eyes rolled back to the back of her head, snapping the boy out of his thoughts as she let her body fall into his arms.

"wow," she breathed out after a moment of silence. she glanced at james and asked, poiting at his cock, "do you want me to—"

"no," he cut her off, smiling nervously. "that's okay."

he got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist before leaving the bathroom completely, leaving lily standing there utterly confused.

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

six weeks since james walked out of that door and it felt like yesterday. you still missed him the same. you still hoped that he would realize his mistake and come back crawling to you, begging for your forgivness. you still missed him even though him being around was mentally draining.

you felt him everywhere in this flat. after all, you chose it together. he was everywhere. when you came home, even when you left it. you felt him in your bed and behind you in the bathroom. you felt him in your heart, soul and bones and you couldn't get him out.

"i wanna sell this flat," you told remus. "everything reminds me of james way too much. i can't do this."

"i understand. i hard alice and frank longbottom are looking for a flat. maybe you could buy alice's. do you want her number?"

"yeah, sure."

just as you were about to call alice, your phone started ringing and his picture appeared on the screen with the name "jamie ♡". you realized you still didn't change his name.

remus saw the shocked expression on your face. "what's wrong?"

ignoring him. you took a deep breath and tapped the light green button.

"hi." you heard him say, sounding almost relieved that you didn't hang up.

"hi."

"i'm sorry," he blurted out.

you sighed. "you already said that."

"i know but i really mean it. i'm sorry for how i treated you. i'm sorry that i was unfaithful, i'm sorry i called you a lunatic when you brought lily up, even though you were completely right about everything. i'm sorry for how cold, distant and rude i was for the last months of our relationship. you didn't deserve any of it. and i'm sorry."

wow. you waited for him to say that for so long.

"i-" you were speechless. "thank you, james, for your apology, i appreciate it. you are right, i didn't deserve any of it. not when i left no stone unturned while you didn't even lift a finger." he stayed quiet, knowing well you were right. "look, james, i'll forget you one day. i'll forget all of it, all of the lies and the pain. but i could never forgive you. what you did was humiliating and cruel. i never felt more unloved and worthless. i'll never forgive you for making me feel like that about myself."

"i'm really sorry," you heard him whisper.

"right now, i could say that i wish you all the best and that i hope you and lily will live happily ever after. but i'm not a liar, not like you. i really hope it's shitty wherever you are. i really hope it's shitty in the black dog.

[feenoire]

Heartfelt Veils I. New Dawn

stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ minors dni

word count: 3.8k

warnings: slow burn-ish, age difference (18/50), brief sexual tension, sexual acts.

summary: moving to a strange, quaint little town isn't so bad after all, especially after meeting your soon-to-be stepdad, who’s very handsome and nice to you.

a/n: i never knew what it felt like to have a dad or father figure in my life. that’s why i wrote this silly little fiction to fulfill my fantasy. i use the character Joel because he’s my comfort character, and i see him both as a father figure and a lover. please read it with caution, as i know this kind of story is not for everyone. i’m currently writing the next chapters <3

series masterlist

A piercing ring shattered the surrounding silence, echoing in your ears. You don’t remember how you here sitting on the ground. But you can’t see anything, everything is black like the whole world goes dark. You struggle to open your eyes but it’s hard, but you persist until it opens.

You begin to breathe faster as you examine your surroundings. You’ve been here before, but you don't exactly remember when and what happened. All you know is that you can feel an unsettling fear creeping over you in this place, and you begin to cry.

You find yourself encircled by towering trees, as you sit on the cold, damp grass. You feel like someone is watching you, but there’s no one. As you attempt to bury your face in your hands, you notice a bruise on your wrists.

What happened to me?

From the fear, your hands begin to shake. As you try to stand, you hear footsteps behind you, but you don’t dare to look back. Your heart races, and despite the cold weather, you start sweating. Everything else is silent except for your own breathing until a deep and familiar voice speaks from behind you.

“You think you can run away from me?”

You close your eyes tightly. The voice starts low, then gets louder until it speaks directly into your left ear. Leaving goosebumps tingling across your skin.

“I’ll always find a way to get you. No one can stop me.”

There’s a faint, distant voice calling your name over and over until a hand touches your shoulder. You wake up with a gasp, finding yourself in a moving car, your lungs heaving with ragged breaths.

“Are you okay, flower?”

Your mind is still processing the nightmare and trying to make sense of where you are right now. You can feel the sweat clinging to your skin.

“W-where are we?”

“We’re almost there,” your mother says. “We’ll be at the house soon.”

“Oh… right.” Of course, you are.

It all makes sense now as you start to remember things. You admire the buildings, trees, and pleasant views of the small town that will be your new home, from the backseat, with your mother beside you. With a population of just three thousand, it feels almost like a ghost town. People walk here and there, stepping on fallen leaves amid the October fall.

You check the time on the car’s radio display, it reads 4 PM, but the foggy and cold weather makes it feel much later. Meanwhile “Just Like Honey” plays softly on the radio.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” your mother asks.

“Yeah, I’m okay. It was just a nightmare,” you reassure her.

The car starts to enter the small neighborhood on the edge of the town. Most of the houses already have jack-o-lanterns on their porches, seems like this town loves Halloween so much.

“I’m excited,” your mother says with a smile, holding your hand on the seat.

You smile genuinely. “Me too, Mom.”

“A new dawn, a fresh start,” that’s what your mother had said when she told you about the move a month ago, to a quaint little town called Silvervale in the middle of Montana.

It came out of nowhere, and you still think about it. You miss your friend from your old school. But with your mother’s enthusiasm, you can’t say no to her, and you want to make her happy. And you like the idea of a fresh start. Why refuse it when you have the chance to begin anew?

A few minutes later, the car stops in front of the house. It radiates a cozy charm that you immediately appreciate. What you didn’t expect is that the backyard is a dense forest, with trees stretching as far as the eye can see. It would be easy for a wolf or serial killer to attack you, but you hope that won’t happen. Your mother told you that the neighborhood is safe.

The house is a two-story structure with a classic, early 20th century architectural style, a white-painted structure with a metal gabled roof and a chimney. It features a large wraparound porch supported by columns.

“Come on, flower.”

You and your mother get out of the car and grab your things from the trunk, with the cab driver helping to place them on the porch. After giving him a tip and thanking him, the driver leaves.

The two of you stand on the porch, with bags and suitcases on the floor. You tighten your jacket around your body to ward off the cold, realizing you shouldn’t have worn a dress above your knees. Meanwhile, all your other belongings are still on their way and are expected to arrive tomorrow.

“Where is he?” you ask.

“He’s not home yet, but he told me we could come inside.”

“Wait, are you sure?”

“Yeah, come on.”

You take your bags and go inside with your mother. Now all the stuff is in the living room. You take a look around the place. It’s cozy, with many books on the bookshelves beside the fireplace. There are guitars on the wall and some wood carvings on the table. You draw closer and touch them carefully, they’re beautiful. There’s a bear, a deer, a wolf, and a cowboy sitting on the horse.

Lost in a trance, you don’t hear another person enter the house until your mother calls your name.

“Yeah?” Your eyes are still trained on the carvings as you turn around until you see the man in front of you beside your mother, his arm around her shoulder. “Oh.”

Your mother, with a beaming smile, says, “Flower, this is Joel.”

Joel.

Joel is your mother’s boyfriend and one of the reasons she proposed to move here, to his house. He might’ve asked her to marry him after two years together. And she wanted to start fresh, away from your hometown. However, you have never met Joel. Your mother met him at the local bar in your hometown, Phoenix, when he was on a road trip with his brother. The rest is history.

You only recently learned that your mother dating him, she never told you about it or even mentioned anything about dating. Your mother was single, that’s all you knew since you were a kid. She was always busy working, so she never had time for a relationship. Until a few months ago, when she finally told you about Joel.

She said she wanted to make sure that Joel is a good man for both you and her, and that she wants to protect you. Now you understand why, sometimes every few months she would leave for like a week, over the past two years. She told you it was for work, and you believed her.

She said Joel’s the one, she never really went on a date with anyone since your father. Joel is a good and kind man, and she said she fell in love with him. It was kind of shocking when you heard the news, but you accepted their relationship. Actually, you’re kind of happy for her that she finally met someone she could spend her life with and who will take care of her. You’re almost eighteen, and you won’t be living with your mother forever.

It's the first time you’re seeing Joel in person.

You’ve only looked at pictures of him that your mother showed you or seen him during Facetime calls with her, when she told you to say hi to him.

You know Joel is a good-looking man from the pictures you saw, but you didn’t expect him to look this good in person. His salt-and-pepper hair suggests maturity. He has beautiful features: a rugged handsome face with tan skin, a strong jawline, warm brown eyes, and a sharp nose. Unbelievably handsome. He’s tall and broad, so you have to look up at him. His big arms stretch the charcoal flannel he wears.

In return, he looks at you, inspecting your face as if lost in a trance.

“Joel, meet my daughter,” your mother introduces.

“Hi, Joel,” you say, your voice a little breathless as you extend your hand.

Joel shakes your hand warmly. “Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

You smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

“I’m so glad we’re all finally together,” your mother says.

“Me too, Daphne,” Joel says as he kisses her temple.

It’s kind of strange to watch the scene unfolding in front of you, you’ve never seen your mother this affectionate with anyone before. But you are happy for her.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I thought I’d made it on time. I bought your favorite cake, tiramisu, right?” Joel says to your mother, gesturing to the large paper bag he’s holding.

A soft blush tints her cheeks. “Oh my god, thank you so much, Joel.”

“I planned to surprise you with it before you got here, but my car broke down on the way.”

“It’s okay, Joel. It’s perfect,” she says as she hugs him.

“Okay… so, are we gonna eat the cake now?” you say, trying to ease the awkwardness of witnessing their intimate moment.

Joel and your mother laugh at your remark, breaking the embrace with a shared smile. Then, he leads you to the dining room. The table is full of delicious-looking food, and your stomach grumbles at the sight.

“This is amazing, Joel,” your mother says.

The three of you finally sit down and enjoy the food on the dining table. You can’t believe Joel actually cooked all of this, and it’s kind of sweet. You’ve never had someone cook for you, not even your mother, because she’s always busy. So, you either cook for yourself or buy takeout. Joel mentions that he has always loved cooking. Everything on the table is flavorsome, especially the ravioli with spicy cream sauce.

You’re too busy eating your food to notice Joel looking at you until you catch him. He quickly averts his eyes back to his plate, and you can feel a flush rising to your cheeks. But you quickly push the thoughts aside.

“Oh, yeah, mom. I was wondering how I’m gonna finish high school. You haven’t mentioned anything about it yet.”

“Don’t worry, flower. I’ve already taken care of it,” your mother says. “You start next week, but there’s no high school in this town, so you’re going to the one in Lakewood.”

You furrow your eyebrows, you have no idea about anything in this town. “Where?”

“Lakewood, it’s not too far from here. Twenty minutes tops,” Joel says. “Don’t worry, I can take you there and pick you up.”

It’s such a dad thing to say, you thought. You never knew how it felt to have a dad before, and the thought warms your heart and also your cheeks. You must be blushing right now because you can see a hint of a smirk on Joel’s lips, though he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say.

Joel smiles warmly. “I rented A Nightmare on Elm Street on VHS from the store. I thought it’d be nice to watch it together tonight. It’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

Oh god. Wait, but how does he know? Uh… your mom must have told him, of course. Stupid you.

“But why?” you ask, puzzled. “We can just watch it on Apple TV or something.”

He smirks playfully. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You chuckle. “Right, okay.”

The two of you share a smile, locking eyes for a moment before you finally look away and return to your food.

“That’s very thoughtful,” your mother smiles and holds Joel’s hand on the table.

After everyone has finished eating, Joel leads you upstairs to show you to your room, carrying your bags. Meanwhile, your mother is having a phone call with her friend. As the two of you walk, you pass a wooden door adorned with painted blossoms and vines, with an “S” initial in the center, but you don’t ask about it. He leads you to the door on the left at the end of the hallway and turns on the night lamp.

“It’s your room, I hope you like it,” he says as he puts the bags on the floor.

It’s such a pretty room, it’s cozy with a vintage ambiance. The walls are covered with floral wallpaper, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. It’s very Joel but in a feminine way. The windows have white lace curtains, allowing you to see the forest. All the furniture is made of dark wood, including the bed frame, bedside tables, dresser, chairs, study desk, and vanity table. There’s a floral carving around the mirror. He placed some unlit candles around the room. The bed is full-sized, and you touch the soft pink bedding with your fingers, feeling the little flowers on it. It’s pretty, soft, and you. What you didn’t expect is the painting of “Fallow Deer with Fawn” above the headboard—your favorite painting.

You gasp at the sight of it and turn around to face Joel, who’s already looking at you. His pupils dilate as he looks at you. But there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes you feel safe and comfortable.

“Joel, how did you—”

He smiles warmly and looks back into your eyes. “I asked your mom if there’s something you like. She told me that you’re crazy about that painting, and even wrote an essay about it for school. So I found a very similar one and got it for y—”

You stride to him and hug him before he can finish his words, burying your face in his chest with your arms around his torso. You feel his arms enveloping you, holding you in a bear hug, and you can feel his face resting on your hair.

You feel emotional from the gesture, unable to believe that someone actually cares about you and your interests so much. It means a lot to you, even if it might mean nothing to Joel. You try to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall, closing your eyes tightly and taking a deep breath, the masculine scent of Joel fills your nostrils.

“Thank you, Joel,” you whisper. “It means a lot to me.”

He caresses your hair with his other hand. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

Joel’s deep voice is like music to your ears. After a few seconds in what feels like heaven, you realize what you’re doing and quickly break the hug, stepping back. Overcome with embarrassment, you don’t have the courage to look him in the face. You bow your head and focus on your socks.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you say.

Joel takes a step closer to you and caresses your soft cheek with his big hand. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart.”

His gentle voice soothes you, but you’re so embarrassed that your cheeks must be red. You still don’t dare to look at him. After waiting for a few moments and seeing your resistance, he takes a step back.

“Makes yourself comfortable, okay?” Joel says warmly. “If you need anything at all, just tell me. I’m gonna help your mom carry her bags.”

You nod, and Joel takes it as a yes. He leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

You curl up in your bed, quietly crying for almost an hour. Why did you do that? You feel so embarrassed and stupid about the moment earlier. Lost in your feelings, you didn't think twice before hugging Joel. Now, you can’t find the courage to face him. You just want to sleep and hide under your blanket forever.

But you still can’t believe Joel prepared all of this for you. The pink bedding, the flower-patterned details everywhere, the candles, the painting—all your favorite things. Not that you're ungrateful, but this is far better than your old space. You love this room Joel made for you.

You remove the blanket from your head and rest your head on the pillow. There’s a little something you didn’t notice earlier—a beautiful wood carving, much like the one in the living room, but smaller. It’s a wolf and a doe and is placed on your bedside table. You smile at the sight. Not long after that, you fall asleep, dreaming about resting on the forest floor with a big wolf hugging you.

The sky is dark outside when you wake up a few hours later. You change into your soft pink nightgown, which is sleeveless with a round neckline. Three small buttons run down the front, with small embroidered flowers beside them. You tie the delicate ribbon at the waist into a small bow. As you brush your hair, you hear a knock on the door.

You put the brush down and go to open the door, finding Joel on the other side. You don’t open the door all the way, keeping your hand on the handle. He looks so handsome, his curls falling into his forehead. He’s wearing a faded black t-shirt that hugs his frame, paired with flannel pants.

“Yeah?” you whisper.

In return, he looks at you. His once-brown eyes darken and dilate as he gazes from your right eye to your left, lingering on your lips. You notice him wet his lips, and then his eyes roam over your body, making you feel self-conscious. His intense gaze sends a hot sensation through your core.

“Joel?”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head slightly as if realizing what he is doing. “Uh… I’m sorry, sweetheart. I came here to ask if you’re still up for the movie night.”

“Oh, right. Um… yeah, sure,” you stutter.

“Okay. Uh, are you alright?” he asks.

You immediately know what he’s talking about.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry, Joel, about earlier,” you bow your head.

“Hey, please don’t be sorry, sweetheart. You can come to me anytime you want,” he says, his voice sincere.

You nod.

“Alright, why don’t we head downstairs now? Your mom’s in the kitchen making popcorn. Or do you need more time?”

“No, I’m ready.”

You open the door and step out of the room.

“Do you want a chocolate or something? Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he says as he walks down the stairs in front of you.

Your heart warms at his offer, and you smile softly. “Um… could I have hot chocolate and Oreos?” you ask shyly.

“Of course,” he replies with a smile. “Why don’t you sit on the couch and let me make it for you?”

“Okay.”

Joel walks to the kitchen and joins your mother. Meanwhile, you sit on the couch in the dim living room, waiting for them. You grab the VHS, still inside the box, and examine the back cover. It says, ‘If Nancy doesn’t wake up screaming… she won't wake up at all!’ and you smile as the words send a shiver of excitement down your spine.

A few minutes later, your mother shows up with Joel. He brings a steaming cup of hot chocolate with Oreos and two bottles of Corona beer. Meanwhile, your mother puts a bowl of chips and popcorn on the coffee table.

You can’t help but grin at the sight. “Thank you, Joel, Mom.”

Joel grins. “Excited?”

“Flower, why don’t you change into something a little more appropriate? Don’t you get cold dressed like that?” your mother says, her eyes looking sharply at you.

You furrow your eyebrows, puzzled. “But it’s my nightgown.”

“Just change, alright?” she says, her tone brooks no debate.

“Okay,” you say quietly.

Your smile fades as you stand up from the couch. You catch a glimpse of Joel’s face—his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks confused as he glances at your mother. Quickly, you go upstairs to your room, holding back the urge to cry.

“Please don’t cry, please don’t cry,” you whisper to yourself like a spell as you look for more appropriate night attire in your suitcase.

You’re confused because your mother also wears a short nightgown too, with tin straps. So why is she upset with yours?

So you opt for your winter pajama set: long-sleeved button-up top and long pants. It’s light-colored with a pattern of small bear figures scattered on the fabric.

After changing, you take a deep breath, go downstairs, and sit on the rug with your hot chocolate in your hands, avoiding their eyes.

“I’m ready,” you say softly.

You’re glad your voice isn’t shaking because you don’t want to look vulnerable in front of them. Joel stands up from the couch, puts the VHS in the VCR, and plays the movie. You can feel his eyes on you, but you bow your head and focus on your hot chocolate.

The atmosphere is not as exciting as it was before your mother scolded you, but you try to enjoy the moment. A few moments into the movie you can’t help but giggle and blush at Glen Lantz's appearance, you’ve always had a crush on him.

“You sure your cheeks don’t hurt now, little girl?” Joel says with a smirk on his face, catching you smiling for not the first time.

Embarrassed, you lower your head and take a bite of your cookie. “No…”

Joel chortles. “Your cheeks got redder, sweetheart.”

You put the cookie down, curl up, and bury half of your face in your knees at his teasing. If your ears could work like a chimney in a cartoon, you are sure there would be fumes coming out from how warm your cheeks are right now. Damn Joel.

Near the movie’s end, you catch a glimpse of your mother kissing Joel’s face and neck—not the peck kind but the longing kind. You feel deeply uncomfortable and don’t want to look. You try to focus on the movie but can’t. You hold yourself together until the closing credits appear, and then you quickly stand up.

“I’m tired, I’m gonna go to my room,” you mutter before leaving and going back to your room.

Why did they have to do that in front of you? Are they drunk? You throw yourself onto the bed and turn off the night lamp, allowing the natural light from the night sky to illuminate your room as you try to sleep.

After what feels like twenty minutes, just as you doze off, you hear thumps and muffled moans coming from the other side of the wall behind the headboard. And you know exactly what they’re doing, which pisses you off even more, and you feel like you want to cry. So you clutch your pillow and blanket and go to sleep in your closet with your earmuffs on. You didn’t expect your first night here to be like this—sleeping on the closet floor. It takes a while to fall asleep again.

[thetealsky]

Moving a little too fast || Spencer Reid X fem!Reader

This was it. The moment he'd been fixating on since he bought the ring three weeks ago. They were both sat at the round table going through a case, everyone else having cleared out an hour before. She'd insisted she was close to a breakthrough and he'd indulged.

This was it. He took one last glance at her, totally engrossed in crime scene photos, absently flicking a pen between her fingers.

He stood, smoothed out the wrinkles in his trousers, cleared his throat, and got down on one knee. This was it.

"Sweetheart I-"

"Spence?"

His head swiveled up as he held up the ring between his fingers. There was a beautiful little crinkle in her brow, her eyes flicking between him and the ring.

He'd rehursed his speech thousands of times at this point, the words burned into his iodetic memory.

"I- ever since your first day at the BAU I felt this unexplainable connection. Even when I could barely string a sentence together around you I could just feel-" Hands cupping his brought him out of his monologue.

"Spencer, baby," her smile was soft but the crinkle remained, "god forbid I interrupt being told how loved I am, but what is this really about?" One hand came up to cup his jaw.

"I- what? I'm, I'm proposing." This wasn't how it was supposed to go. His fingers pushed down on the ring. He couldn't feel the scratch of his cardigan, suddenly stiflingly hot.

"And in another circumstance I'd say your doing an amazing job but, baby, why are you proposing? We've been together less that a year." She let out a soft chuckle, thumb absently stroking his cheek.

He looked down, fiddling with the ring in his hand.

"I just - I just thought -" He just wanted to have a future with her. He just wanted to know she'd be there when he woke up.

She could see his big brain whirring behind his eyes. She slipped out of her chair and met him on the floor. Pulling his body into a relaxed hug, she gave relief to his previously bent knee and his hands were able to drop into her lap, ring trapped between his palms.

"Take your time baby." She said, kissing his temple and then simply holding him.

They stayed there a few moments, breathing slowly syncing up.

"I -" Spencers voice cracked slightly, "I thought if we got married, if we were serious, then you wouldn't leave." He couldn't look at her, head down in shame.

"Oh Spence, look at me baby." Softly tilting his chin up to eye level, "I'm not going anywhere. I would love to marry you some day, but I want that to be because we're both ready"

"I'm sorry, your right. It- It was stupid." He mumbled.

"Hey. It wasn't stupid. And it's important for me to know that you need reassurance. What if we meet in the middle. I was gonna tell you next month but my lease is nearly up. Think you could make room for me among your books?"

"Really?" There was the Spencer she knew, shoulders high, hands naturally finding her waist, hauling her closer in excitement, "I'd get to see you every morning when we wake up." He was almost vibrating now.

"Sounds perfect to me." She sat up and straightened herself, "think it's time to head home, why don't you hide that very pretty ring you got me, save it for when we're ready?"

Home. He looked up at her grinning form. He was already home.

[97linelover]

From heartache to happiness- Kim mingyu

summary: taking care of Mingyus niece was a highlight for both of you, but realizing that in 4 years the two of you could not get pregnant made you tired.

Seeing him with the little munchkin made you happy but also devastated.

But what if it all will turn out alright?

content: Idol Mingyu x Non Idol reader, mentions of failed pregnancys, pregnancy,angst, happy end,fluff, mentions of endometriosis

wc: 2.6 k

a/n: I´m really sorry if you´re going through something like this... I just got the Diagnosis myself endometriosis.. How to handle something like that? I really don´t know.

“Danbi, don’t run! I’ve told you a thousand times!” Minseo’s voice echoed urgently through the corridor.

You watched her from the doorway, observing as she struggled to balance several bags of baby supplies. “Hectic day?” you asked with a playful giggle.

“Oh yes,” she replied, exhaling wearily as she gently patted her very prominent belly. “Baby Ahri isn’t making it any easier. She’s so active these days!”

“I can imagine,” you said, leaning down and speaking in a high-pitched, playful tone. “Her due date is in just two weeks, you know. We’re all eagerly waiting to meet you, Baby Ahri.”

Minseo nodded with a tired smile, then asked, “Is Mingyu still not home?”

You glanced towards the window where Sooyoon, who had been waiting by the car, waved at you. “No, he’s still at the studio,” you replied. “But he texted me that he’ll be home soon and that he can’t wait to see his niece.”

Minseo rolled her eyes with a smirk. “He’s totally smitten with her. Sometimes, I think he’s more excited than I am!”

“Well, who can blame him?” you said with a reassuring smile. “Every kid can be a handful, but as long as she’s sweet with us, we’ll manage.” You pulled her into a warm hug. “Thanks again for everything, Y/N.”

Minseo smiled gratefully. “Enjoy your time in Busan!” she called as she headed toward the car, her hands full of baby supplies.

As you closed the door behind her, you called out, “Danbiii! Where’s my sweet little bean?” Your eyes scanned the room until you spotted her small pink slippers peeking out from beneath the curtain.

This had become a cherished ritual between the two of you. Whenever Danbi visited, you’d play a little game of hide-and-seek.

“Mmm, my little bean is hiding so well,” you said, feigning frustration. You heard a faint beep from the direction of the curtain. “Oh, I’m getting closer,” you said, tiptoeing toward it.

With a dramatic flourish, you pulled the curtain aside and exclaimed, “Got you!” You lifted Danbi into the air, and her delighted squeal filled the room.

“You found me, Auntie Y/N!” she shouted joyfully, wrapping her tiny arms around your neck.

“I always find you, my sweet little bean,” you said, pressing a gentle kiss to her head. “Are you hungry, Danbi?” you asked as she clung to you like a koala. “Shall we make some dinner for Uncle Gyu?”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Yes! Let’s cook for Uncle Gyuu!” she clapped her small hands together in delight.

“How about we make meatball pasta?” you suggested, knowing it was her absolute favorite.

“YESSS!!” she cheered. You carried her into the kitchen, where she eagerly grabbed her plastic cutlery. Together, you began preparing the meal, Danbi’s concentration evident as she helped with the ingredients.

As you danced around the kitchen to your favorite tunes, you heard the door open. “Oh Danbi, who is this?” you asked twirling her around in your arms.

“My Unclessss!” she said with a giggle, spinning in excitement. Just then, Mingyu walked in, his face lighting up as he saw Danbi.

“Uncle Gyuuu!” Danbi squealed, racing towards him.

Mingyu scooped her up in his arms, his face beaming with joy. “My princesssss,” he said affectionately, his eyes crinkling with happiness. You laughed softly and set the plates on the dining table.

“Mmm, that smells wonderful,” Mingyu said, his gaze appreciating the meal. He walked into the room, holding Danbi tightly. The little girl, who was clearly fascinated by him, snuggled into his embrace.

You watched them with a smile, thinking, “Same here, little one. Same here.”

“Did you two make this?” Mingyu asked, his eyes twinkling with pride. Danbi nodded enthusiastically.

“Hey, my love,” Mingyu said, carefully setting Danbi down and leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Hi, baby,” you replied, gently stroking his cheek. “How was work today?”

He sighed with a mix of exhaustion and relief. “It was a long day, but I’m glad to be home and have a few days off,” he said, looking over at Danbi. “Now, Dan Dan, how is my favorite girl doing?”

Danbi threw her arms around Mingyu’s neck. “Good—I missed you!” she said, her voice muffled as she clung to him.

Mingyu set her down gently, and you all took your places at the table. The three of you began to enjoy the meal, sharing laughter and stories as you savored the delicious pasta that Danbi had helped prepare.

After dinner, as the kitchen is tidied up, Mingyu and Danbi begin their bedtime routine. Danbi, now in her pajamas and holding her favorite teddy bear, snuggles up against Mingyu as he gently lifts her up.

“Time for your bedtime ritual, sweetheart,” Mingyu says lovingly, carrying her upstairs.

You follow them to the cozy, softly lit bedroom, decorated in gentle pastel colors. The room is lovingly arranged, with colorful pictures on the walls and a bed adorned with fluffy pillows and blankets.

Mingyu carefully sets Danbi down on her bed and sits beside her. “What story would you like to hear tonight?” he asks as Danbi settles into her blankets, her eyes already heavy with sleep.

“The story of the brave little animals!” Danbi replies with a sleepy smile.

Mingyu nods and retrieves a picture book from the shelf, which tells the adventures of the brave little animals. He begins reading aloud, his voice calm and soothing. He brings the characters to life with expressive tones and gentle inflections, weaving a tale that gradually eases Danbi into slumber. Her eyelids grow heavy as she listens to the story of the brave little animals and their adventures.

You watch from the doorway, feeling a mix of warmth and bittersweet emotion. The love and tenderness Mingyu shows Danbi are heartwarming, and you find yourself reflecting on your own dreams and challenges.

As Mingyu finishes the story and gently closes the book, he strokes Danbi’s hair and kisses her forehead. “Goodnight, my little adventurer,” he whispers. “Sweet dreams.”

Danbi murmurs a sleepy goodnight and drifts off, her teddy bear hugged tightly. Mingyu quietly stands up and walks over to where you are standing, a soft smile on his face.

“You know,” he begins, his voice low and sincere, “I just want to tell you how proud I am of you.”

You look up at him, surprised by his words. “Proud of me? Why?”

Mingyu takes your hand in his, his expression filled with warmth and affection. “For everything you do, for being so wonderful with Danbi and for always supporting me. I know things haven’t been easy, and I admire your strength and love. You bring so much joy into our lives.”

His words touch you deeply, and you feel a mix of emotions welling up inside you. “Thank you, Mingyu,” you say softly, your voice trembling slightly. “That means a lot to me.”

Mingyu gently squeezes your hand. “You’re an amazing person, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life. I just wanted you to know that.”

With a final, loving smile, Mingyu pulls you into a warm embrace. You hold onto him, finding comfort in his support and the shared moments of love and understanding. As you both stand there, the quiet of the night settles around you, filled with the promise of brighter days ahead.

The next morning, you wake up early, eager to start the day. You decide to make it special by preparing a delicious breakfast. The kitchen soon fills with the tempting aroma of pancakes as you whisk the batter and pour it into the hot pan.

Just as you’re cooking the first pancakes, you hear the soft patter of little feet behind you. Danbi, still a bit sleepy but excited, wanders into the kitchen, clutching her favorite teddy bear.

“Good morning, Auntie Y/N!” she calls out cheerfully, her eyes bright as she takes in the sight of the pancake batter.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you reply with a warm smile. “Would you like to help me make the pancakes?”

Danbi’s face lights up with enthusiasm. “Yes, please! I want to help!”

You hand her a small bowl with a bit of batter and a tiny spoon. “You can stir the batter here while I cook the pancakes. Just try not to make too much of a mess!”

Danbi nods eagerly, carefully stirring the batter with a look of intense concentration. Occasionally, she glances up at you for reassurance. A tiny splash of batter lands on the countertop, and Danbi giggles.

“Oh, Auntie Y/N, look! I’m almost as good as you!” she says proudly, her excitement evident.

You smile and nod. “You’re doing great, Danbi. These pancakes are going to be fantastic thanks to you!”

After breakfast, which turns out to be delicious thanks to Danbi’s help, you all get ready for a fun outing to the zoo. Danbi, now dressed in her favorite outfit—a colorful animal-themed T-shirt and jeans—bounces with excitement.

As you arrive at the zoo, Danbi is practically vibrating with joy. She points out every animal she sees, her face glowing with wonder. You and Mingyu follow closely, sharing her enthusiasm and marveling at the different animals with her.

When you reach the monkey enclosure, Danbi looks up at both of you, her eyes full of affection. “Auntie Y/N, Uncle Mingyu, I love you both so much!” she says, her voice filled with sincerity. “You’re the best aunt and uncle ever!”

Mingyu kneels down to her level, his eyes softening with emotion. “We love you too, Danbi. You’re the best niece anyone could ask for.”

You watch the interaction, feeling a surge of warmth and gratitude. The simple, genuine moment of love between you all fills your heart with happiness.

The day continues with laughter and discovery as you explore the zoo together. You visit the giraffes, lions, and penguins, and enjoy ice cream cones as a treat. Danbi’s joy is infectious, and you all share many smiles and moments of connection.

As the sun starts to set, you head back home, tired but happy. You and Mingyu reflect on the day’s adventures and the special moments shared. When it’s time for Danbi to go to bed, you both help her get ready and tuck her in.

As Mingyu reads Danbi a bedtime story and gently closes the book, he leans in to kiss her forehead. “Goodnight, my little explorer. Sweet dreams.”

Danbi murmurs a sleepy goodnight and drifts off to sleep, hugging her teddy bear. You and Mingyu quietly leave the room, feeling happy with how the day went.

A day after the joyful day at the zoo, the time comes for Minseo to pick up Danbi. The farewell is heartfelt and filled with affection. Minseo gives Danbi a tight hug, and the little girl clings to her teddy bear.

“How was your day, sweetheart?” Minseo asks lovingly as she helps Danbi into the car.

“It was the best day ever!” Danbi replies with a beaming smile. “We had so much fun!”

Minseo smiles warmly and looks at you and Mingyu. “Thank you so much for taking care of Danbi and making her day so special. It means a lot to us.”

You hug Minseo. “It was our pleasure. Danbi is such a joy to be with. Safe travels, and we’ll see you soon!”

As Minseo drives away with Danbi, you and Mingyu watch them leave, feeling a mixture of contentment and nostalgia.

A few weeks later, you begin to feel unwell and decide to take a pregnancy test on your own, as Mingyu is away at work. With a mixture of hope and anxiety, you wait for the results. After what feels like an eternity, the test reveals a positive result.

Your heart races as you process the news—you're pregnant.

As you got the diagnosis endometriosis you were devastated, you wanted kids so badly, but your doctor said that this would be pretty hard.

And you were in for a long journey, besides the horrific pains you always endoured the dream of being a mother seemed far away.

Mingyu was your biggest support trough this time, he helped you with all the treatments.

Mingyu and you took every chance to have sex, for your luck the two of you were obsessed with each other. He knew your body well and knew which position worked without being in pain.

Determined to make this moment special, you begin preparing a surprise for Mingyu. You carefully plan an intimate evening at home. You decorate the living room with soft candles, fairy lights, and a “Welcome to the Family Baby Kim” sign. You also prepare a special dinner—his favorite dish.

When Mingyu arrives home that evening, he's immediately struck by the warm, inviting atmosphere. The candles flicker softly, and the table is set with care.

“Wow, this looks amazing,” Mingyu says, looking around in wonder. “What’s the occasion?”

You smile, feeling a flutter of excitement and nerves. “I have a surprise for you. Please, sit down.”

As Mingyu takes his seat at the table, you bring out the dinner and sit across from him. After a few moments of enjoying the meal and making small talk, you finally take a deep breath and reach into your pocket. You pull out a small, neatly wrapped box and place it in front of him.

Mingyu looks at the box curiously and then at you. “What’s this?”

“Open it and find out,” you say, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation.

Mingyu carefully unwraps the box and opens it to find a tiny pair of baby shoes inside, along with a note that reads: “We’re going to be parents!”

His eyes widen in shock as he processes the message. A mixture of disbelief, joy, and emotion floods his face. He looks up at you, his eyes brimming with tears.

“You’re… you’re pregnant?” he asks, his voice choked with emotion.

You nod, tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks. “Yes, we are.”

Mingyu stands up and rushes over to you, enveloping you in a tight, loving embrace. His tears of joy fall freely as he holds you close. “I can’t believe it. I’m so happy. This is the best news ever.”

He twirled you around and you sobbed "when did you find out?" he asked looking at you "in the morning, I had this weird feeling in my tummy and I thought let´s do it" he kissed you softly.

"We´re gonna be parents" he whispered, his eyes red and full of tears "god I am so happy" he beamed with joy.

"I need to tell the boys, they need to know" he said grabbing his phone "we could tell them at the company dinner on Saturday" you suggested and he nodded excited "oh I cant wait to see their faces"

The two of you made your way towards the small Greek Restaurant hand in hand while Mingyu carried your bag.

He was dressed in a Dark Blue Dress shirt, combined with some Black slacks and some black dress shoes.

You wore a matching Dark Blue Satin dress with some heels.

"who do you think will be the most excited?" Mingyu asked "I think Wonwoo, but he wont show it too much, probably Seungkwan and Josh, they´re gonna cry, oh and Debby will cry, and then she will tell Wonwoo to show some emotion" you giggled at the thought.

As the group of over 20 people ate in peace the smell of the Moussaka suddenly went not to well with your stomach.

Your chair screeched along the floor as you rushed towards the toilet, you hated this.

After you were done Mingyu gave you the small toothbrush from your Bag for emergencies and you quickly brushed your teeth.

The two of you walked back to the table and Seungkwan looked at you with concern written all over his features.

"are you okay?" he whispered and you nodded "actually we wanted to tell you all some exciting news" you smiled and Debby gasped.

"we´re going to be parents" Mingyu and you said grinning.

and they all gasped "NO WAY" Joshua got up and Seungkwan directly began to cry "oh my god finally" all of them hugged you and you saw Wonwoo wiping some tears away.

"nonu" you said feeling the tears sting your eyes.

and he opened his arms "I´m so happy for the two of you, you fought so long for this" he kissed your head and you hugged him tight.

"actually Wonu, I wanted to ask you something" Mingyu said giving him a small box, Wonwoo took it with furrowed eyebrows. His slightly shaky hands pulled the lid off and he gasped looking at his best friend with wide eyes.

"no way" the tears in Wonwoos eyes were getting more and more "of course Gyu" he hugged him tight.

the little box asked him 'do you wanna be my godfather? - Baby Kim'

Wonwoo pulled you into the circle and you could not stop the tears.

"I´m so happy for the two of you, baby Kim will have the best parents" he said.

And he was right, you and Mingyu became a incredible duo.

[thewitchblue]

"I'm curious about something."

Jason asked you one snowy November. You turned away from your computer to face him with a fond smile on your face. You were working on a case for him by researching the deceased and locating their soul to speak to the victim. He approached you and leaned against the desk. You asked,

"What's up, buttercup? What's on your pretty mind?"

You noticed his hand trying to hold yours, but you turn ghostly to prevent him from touching you. You're a grim reaper, one of several scattered throughout different continents, and very dead. Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he asks as casually as possible,

"Is it true about the embrace of death?"

Well, that's a new thought you didn't expect to hear him ask. You blinked in confusion before answering vaguely,

"I'm a Reaper, pretty boy. Consider me one of the Valkyries from Norse mythology; I'm here to guide souls to their specific place. I don't embrace or kiss the souls. Their soul is often already floating around when I get there. That's why some people experience after-death moments with loved ones. Grandma's last kiss, a child holding their mother's hand, parents embracing their newly orphaned children, little things like that."

You weren't sure how to explain your job in a way that makes sense for the living, but you tried. Jason seemed unsatisfied by your answer, so you asked kindly,

"What did you really want to know, my love?"

He frowned at your ghostly hand. Is it really too much to want to touch his partner? He paused and said after a beat of silence,

"I... want to hold your hand and kiss you, but you always pull away. I want to know why."

You gave him a sad look and softly admit,

"I've never touched a living soul since my death. I'm worried what will happen to you if I did touch you."

He grumbled and offered his father as a sacrificial lamb to find out what happens, but you laughed and softly said,

"If you can stomach Bruce being the first man to ever touch me post-mortem, I'll touch him."

You knew that wouldn't be the case. He huffed and pouted, but softly admitted,

"I want to be the first man you ever touch since your death."

You look at him seriously for a moment. You know Jason would drop the topic if you told him no, but part of you wanted to say yes. You weren't sure if you wanted to let this go. You want to hold his hand on a cold winter day and kiss him thousands of times to make up for lost time.

With great hesitation, you touched Jason's arm. He was warm against your timid hand and so muscular. You slowly run your hands along his arms while watching him carefully. You waited to see if he was feeling anything negative. You weren't sure if you felt his life force leaving him or his pulse racing under your hand as you held his wrist in your fingers.

Jason shivered under your light touch. You were freezing cold, but he didn't feel any different than he felt before. You looked in awe that you could touch a living soul without consequences, and he was so smug.

He had a feeling it would be okay to touch you. He thought it was adorable that you wanted to protect him from your ghostly touch, nonetheless. He was only 87% sure he would have been fine. He didn't know if you could turn your power on-and-off like he hoped and now knew was possible.

You hadn't known people could be this warm. You've been dead for so long, you had forgotten. Souls are cold, so you're never warm.

You grin at him and immediate pull him into a kiss. You could kiss him! His soul isn't being pulled out of him! You were ecstatic. Once you started, you found you couldn't stop.

You gave him thousands of kisses as he chuckled. He's never seen you so happy. You held both his hands in your scarred ones.

Your soul shines in happiness, which makes him grin. He loves you and loves the confirmation you loved him, too. Your soul tells him everything you're feeling, and he's never seen you this happy. It's reassuring to see your love for him pulsing throughout your ghostly spirit. It's like you couldn't keep it in.

Your eyes lit up at the new revolution. You were bursting with love and adoration. You tell him as you held his face in your hands,

"These hands are forever yours. You're going to be stuck with me now onwards."

He laughed at the serious tone and kissed your hands with a grin on his face. The lights in your apartment flicker in response to your happiness, but you can't help it. Your powers charge and pulse when you get emotional.

You murmur as you caress his face in your hands,

"I love you."

You run your fingers through his hair while he buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around you.

"I know, pipsqueak."

He nips your neck playfully, partially surprised you let him. You kiss his forehead and draw him closer with your arms,

"Good. You deserve to know."

[gaiussleechtank]

It was one of those nights: the peaceful ones where both King and Court Warlock could shed their titles and just exist as two friends sharing cups of wine beside a fire. Both were silent as they nursed their drinks and basked in the dim lighting the fire provided Arthur’s dark chambers.

Merlin was lying across the floor on top of countless pillows and blankets, parallel to the hearth of the fireplace. His feet were bare as he had kicked off his boots hours earlier and the cords of his tunic were pulled extremely loose. Merlin’s legs were crossed one over the other as one hand played with a lock of his own hair as the other blindly traced the engravings of his goblet.

Arthur was sat his chair above Merlin, facing the fire and looking down at the peaceful man. He was glad that Merlin’s eyes were closed because it allowed the King to openly stare. For someone who was regarded to be so aware of everything all of the time - Merlin has not once ever cottoned on to Arthur’s gaze on him. In a way, it was reassuring that Arthur didn’t have to fear being caught by the very man he was observing. But it another way it was far too frustrating: Arthur nearly wanted to be caught and then in turn be forced to admit his reasons for staring.

For the Goddess’ sake, how could Arthur not look anywhere but Merlin with the man lying so enchantingly in front of him, doused in the golden light of the flames?

How could he lay his eyes elsewhere when nothing and no one else brought him nearly as much happiness and fulfilment in his heart than Merlin?

How could he when Merlin was everything that he loved?

The nearly empty goblet rested on his lap with his hands encircling the rim, it would be stupid to say it.

“Merlin?” Arthur broke their silence.

Merlin hummed in response, he didn’t move nor open his eye, but the tone of his voice easily told Arthur that he was listening.

“I’m in love with you.” Oh, fuck.

The body in front of him stilled. Merlin’s hand retracted from his hair as he slowly sat up. Arthur couldn’t tell you when the Warlock’s eyes had opened but he could give you a thousand words at least on what it felt like to be under their unending gaze. Merlin didn’t look away from Arthur as he got to his feet and came to stand in front of his King.

Merlin might not have ever been aware of when Arthur’s eyes were on him - but Arthur was far too aware of Merlin’s piercing stare. The King averted his eyes and stared down at the lingering mouthful of wine in his cup, listening to Merlin’s few footsteps.

A hand slid underneath Arthur’s jaw and half cupped the side of his face: hesitantly, Arthur let himself be guided to look up at Merlin. Had it been anyone else, this would have been so dangerous - to willing put his heart and mind at risk by giving someone else so much control over him would have been a death wish if it were anyone else.

Yet this was Merlin, the one person in his life that he would faithfully trust the world with to the ends of time.

It was sad eyes that Arthur saw. Not angry. Not disgusted. Not hurt, or even happy. Sad, sad, eyes that Arthur would nearly say were brokenhearted.

Merlin sighed with a pained and defeated expression. “Not again.”

“What?” Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat.

Merlin smiled with a soft pain, his thumb stroked over Arthur cheek as he said, “You don’t love me, Arthur.”

“I- I do.” Arthur stammered, he hadn’t anticipated out right refusal, denial and disbelief as an outcome. “I do love you, Merlin.”

Merlin swallows and seemed to choke back tears.

“No, Arthur, you don’t.” He repeated. “This is a love enchantment, this has happened before. You aren’t in love with me.”

The words were far too rehearsed, Merlin’s expression too knowing and understanding. Arthur felt like a petulant child being gently corrected on the truth. Had this really happened before? Had Arthur been enchanted to be in love with Merlin before?

“Merlin, I know my feelings, please believe me.” Arthur begged in futile.

“I don’t think you realise how badly I want to, but I can’t.”

Arthur’s eyes widened at Merlin’s confession - even though the feelings were reciprocated, Arthur was still being rejected - but he saw it. He saw all of the held back and restrained love Merlin held in his eyes for Arthur. He finally was bearing witness to Merlin’s affection, only because the Warlock was allowing him to.

“Is it really so unbelievable that I love you that you are convinced my mind is under the control of a spell of potion?”

“I know you love me - in the way friends love one another, brothers even.” Merlin stressed, his words clearly hurting himself. “But you don’t love me the way I want you to, you never have and you never will.”

“You do want me to love you like this?” Arthur countered.

Merlin closed his eyes and shakily let out a sob, his hands ran from Arthur’s jaw and face, around the King’s neck and weakly grasped at the back of Arthur’s head. He pressed his face into Arthur’s hair, Arthur pulled Merlin in closer and strung his arms around the Warlock’s waist and back: he could feel Merlin weep.

“You won’t remember this conversation, you never have, so why not?” Merlin muttered with a bitterness that surprised the King. “I have loved you for years, Arthur, what I feel for you goes beyond the devotion of prophecy and bond of friendship. I’ve always known that you will never feel the same.”

How his heart ached on the verge of breaking: Merlin loved him. He was in love with Arthur. He felt the same as Arthur but clearly awful past experiences that Arthur cannot remember are preventing him from acting on the truth.

Arthur tried to speak but was cut off before he could even utter a syllable.

“No, Arthur, please stop.” Merlin said, slipping out of Arthur embrace. He looked so guilty.

Merlin believed Arthur not to be in control of his mind and actions, he believed Arthur to be susceptible to anything. Though Merlin was nowhere near the kind of person to take advantage of someone under the influence of something mind altering. Even though this ‘supposed potion or enchantment’ was giving him what the Warlock wanted, Merlin still held back and refused.

Even such a simple embrace, the kind of embrace that was becoming more commonly between them as the years progressed seemed to wreck so much regret through the man - Arthur wanted to shake him and scream at how wrong Merlin was: that he could and was consenting to any any hold or touch Merlin could or would give him.

Arthur stood up and met Merlin far too closely. Their faces were mere inches apart, dangerously so. The King saw how badly Merlin wanted to give in, he could see the arguments and thought process that Merlin was going through.

His hand hovered over the side of Merlin’s face as leaned in closer.

“Don’t.”

He froze.

“You’re not in the right state of mind.” Merlin breathed out, more for his own sake than Arthur’s.

Arthur hand fell to his side but he didn’t move away.

“Please tell me how I can prove my honesty.” He asked.

Merlin looked down with resignation and then turned away to the doors.

“Come, Sire, follow me.” Merlin murmured as he left.

He hadn’t called Arthur ‘Sire’ in years, not even in heated arguments did Merlin enforce that distance between them. It spoke tales to Arthur on how hurt his best friend was. He dashed after Merlin, it wasn’t hard to follow the sound of weary footsteps.

They were heading for Merlin’s laboratory. Arthur caught up with broken hearted Warlock and joined their hands together - Merlin allowed it.

Met with the smell of dodgy potions, old books, strong herbs, ash and numerous other smells that Arthur had grown familiar with associating with Merlin’s experiments, Arthur saw and felt Merlin relax slightly. They were on his ground now, they followed his rules.

Arthur let go of Merlin’s hand and took his chair that he always sat in when observing Merlin work.

“You stare a lot.” Merlin said as he leafed through shelves of bottles - no doubt searching for a cure-all potion that he had concocted in earlier years.

“I always have, you’ve just never noticed.” Arthur replied honestly.

Merlin sighed for the thousandth time that hour and stood up straight and returned to Arthur, bottle in hand. It was a small vial with opaque pink liquid filling less than a third of the bottle. He stood on the other side of the work bench and handed over the vial of anti-serum.

Wordlessly and without hesitation Arthur uncorked the bottle and drank his mouthful. Setting down the bottle, he leaned closer to Merlin, head propped up by his elbow, hand under chin, staring at Merlin patiently.

The Warlock also leaned closer, gold creeping into his eyes without a single incantation as he analysed Arthur’s reaction to the potion. The world seemed to hold its breath as it waited for the two men to get onto the same page.

“Well, am I really under an enchantment?” Arthur asked after a very long pause.

Merlin’s mouth fell open as his brow and eyes once again creased into tears.

“No… You aren’t.” Merlin managed to say, covering his face as he cried.

Arthur stood up and joined Merlin on the other side of the workbench. He pulled the shocked and relieved and sobbing Warlock into another hug. Both holding onto each other equally tight.

“I love you, Merlin.” Arthur promised his Warlock firmly.

[elissanatok]

-𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄

part 2

pairing: Aemond targaryen x velaryon! (strong!) reader

summary: Aemond has loved and secretly claimed you for himself since the day you were born. losing his eye changed him, but maybe it did not affect his feelings for you as much as he thought it had

warnings: english is not my first language, angst, fluff, shy reader, unclexniece, possesive aemond, everybody adores reader in this

let me know what you think!! reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are highly appreciated <33

You didn't know what you had expected when you imagined looking into his face again. a smile maybe? A hint of the boy he used to be? Well - you surely did not get whatever it was you had expected. 

He looked at you with a piercing but very bored look, before he let his eye drift again to your little brother. You nervously looked from your little brother to your older one. Jacerys tried to send you a reassuring look, or maybe it was just one that screamed “I told you so”. 

Before leaving Dragonstone he and your mother told you not to expect any kindness from the rest of your family. You were disappointed that they seemed to be right and that the little hope Daemon gave you when he talked about your friendship as children flew away with the wind. 

You had missed him dearly. Your Aemond. But maybe this was not him. His hair had grown longer, although not as long as yours, and laid pin straight against his back. The black eyepatch he wore made him look almost forbidden. It made him look dangerous. But your Aemond was not a dangerous boy. But then again - this was not him. 

Your Aemond used to read in books, spend his days learning, dreaming and talking about Dragons. Teaching you about them. This Aemond looked like he was ready - had dreamed and talked about feeding you to them. 

The Queen's eyes held a little bit more warmth when she met your gaze. Sometimes she thought you looked more like her daughter than Rhaenryas but then again, your eyes held the same fire as your mothers.

The reason for your visit was a sad one, sure, who would be the heir of driftmark was important, not for you, but for your boys. You would be married off, no matter what Daemon claimed, if an alliance with House Winterfell was needed, Cregan would be the first to take your hand. You liked him. He was a kind man. A strong one too, but your relationship held no meaning, no feelings, no friendship. 

Standing with your shoulders straight and your chin held high, you listened to Vaemond.”Don´t you dare tell me, who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”  You could see the rage forming in his eyes. “Allow it?”, your sick grandfather questioned. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

The first time you flinched, was when he raised his voice, pointing at Lucerys. “That- is no true Velaryon- and certainly no nephew of mine.”

Your mother tried calming the situation, after quickly looking at her only daughter. “Go to your chambers, you have said enough.” 

“Lucerys is my trueborn grandson.”

“You may run your house as you see fit. but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the doom.” 

You really wished for someone to hold your hand. Stand in front of you, protect you from the eyes in the room that bore into your golden skin, but there was just your family and you in your flame red dress. 

“And a thousand trigulatons besides.”. “And Gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this -” 

You and your little brother were similar in some ways, in ways like anxious behavior. In ways like his hands trembling just as much as yours behind his back.  “Say it.”, whispered Daemon, making your knees feel weak for what was about to come. You were no fighter. No ruler. Just a woman. And a brutally soft one too. “Her children are Bastards!!”Vaemond yelled into the room, at the king, making you slightly flinch at the sudden loudness of his voice. 

“And she, and her daughter, are whores.”

Your eyes widened, while people let out gasps. Insulting your mother, married and with children was one thing, insulting you, a girl who had not even earned a kiss to her cheek yet, was something entirely else. You were not even promised yet. 

Unknown to you, Aemonds eye had locked onto your form the moment Vaemond stepped closer to you. His gasp was a short one, a quiet too, but he could not believe someone dared insulting you. Yes, you may have shared the features of your brothers, even though you were much more beautiful to him, but your eyes were the purest purple he had seen in his house. There was no way someone could doubt where you belonged. 

In his opinion, you would always belong right next to him. He wished he could have shielded you from harsh words and glances, but he could not forget who you stood next to, the boy who took his eye and the woman who wanted the throne. 

His fists clenched behind his back, he watched his father stand up, heavy breathing. “I- will have your tongue for that.”

You had heard Daemon lifting his sword, and you had seen it from the corner of your eye, but still you did not stop looking at anything but Haelenas dress. His blood flooded in front of your feet. “He can keep his tongue.” Daemon shot you a look. Looking for tears on your face as usual, but no, you seemed to be somewhere else. 

Aemond looked at his uncle with appreciation. He wished he would be bold enough, could show his care for you openly enough to chop a head off, but he couldn't have done it yet, not in front of everyone else at least.

Part 3

[redtrack]

fogo e noite | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!portuguese!reader

summary: two similar but still different cultures clash. how would charles leclerc, a monégasque f1 driver, react to having a portuguese girlfriend?

author’s note: a bit of a self insert here but nothing serious! i thought that it would be adequate to make my first ever work close to home. vamos, portugal! this is quite short since i’m only experimenting, but let me know what you think!

warnings: usage of y/n, mentions of fem! reader, reader has a previously defined nationality, some cursing, english is not my native language :( i used some photos from pinterest so the rights go to their rightful owners, user alexandra as a faceclaim on the last post

twitter

charles e carlos reagem a comentários parte 2 — by shell v-power

(charles and carlos react to comments part 2)

comments on twitter

instagram

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, yourbestfriend and 167,000 more

yourusername tinha que o levar ao dragão (sorry for the yelling baby ❤️)

(had to take him to dragão's football stadium)

tagged charles_leclerc

see 3 401 comments

charles_leclerc it's okay, mon ange 🤍 (why were you wearing another man's name on your back, though?)

yourusername last time i checked you didn't play for porto

user5 CLOCK HIM !!!

charles_leclerc watch me sign with them next season

user81 a queen é portista obrigada deus 🙏🙏 (the queen supports porto thank you god) liked by author

yourusername 💙

user31 y/n taking charles to a football game in her city is so them coded for some reason

user16 exposing him to the good stuff

yourbestfriend you always go a bit crazy on game day

yourusername leave me alone omg i’m worse on race days liked by charles_leclerc

user14 she’s so us omg 😭

user98 FORÇA PORTO ALEEE !!! (GO PORTO!!!) liked by author

charles’s interview for gq magazine

Q: You have recently made your relationship with the Portuguese model Y/N Y/LN public. How do you two manage a multi-cultural love?

Charles: I must admit that I was quite scared at the beginning. (laughs) We come from different cultures and grew up a thousand miles apart.

Thankfully, we both speak english quite fluently and my Y/N has picked up some french from her education in Portugal. I love it when we speak in french. (laughs)

The hardest part was probably meeting her family. They’re quite diverse when it comes to age, so at first I was only able to communicate with the ones close to our without Y/N translating everything, since the oldest and the youngest generations don’t speak english at all.

When I first met her dad, he was super friendly, but I understood that he would change languages every time he spoke to Y/N about me. She later reassured me that it wasn’t anything bad. (laughs)

Despite everything, they have always been extremely welcoming and friendly to me and I truly feel like a part of the family whenever we come to visit.

Q: We take it as you have her family’s blessing, then?

Charles: I hope so! (laughs)

Both of her parents are long time fans of the sport, just like my Y/N, so I think that really helped. And my charm. (laughs)

Q: How about your family? What was their reaction when meeting Y/N?

Charles: My Maman was very excited. (laughs)

I had already talked a lot about Y/N to my mother and brothers, so it kinda felt like they knew her for ages.

It was a really special night for us. Y/N had been away from home for a while. She was extremely home-sick, but still insisted in meeting my family. I was really touched.

I told my Maman about it, so that we could avoid certain topics during dinner not to make Y/N uncomfortable. But when we got there, we found out that my mother had attempted to cook some of my Y/N’s favorite home dishes to make her feel better. She spent the rest of the night hugging Maman while crying and thanking her a million times. (laughs)

I fell in love with her a bit more after that day.

Q: You two seem like a very romantic couple.

Charles: We are. I absolutely love her with my whole heart and I know it goes both ways.

comments on twitter

instagram

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and 1,3M others

charles_leclerc this picture was taken in the very first few hours of 2025 somewhere in Portugal with my baby.

happy new year everyone 😘

tagged yourusername

see 4 307 comments

yourusername happy new year charlie 💓

charles_leclerc feliz ano novo, mon ange 🤍

pierregasly already spending new year's with her family i see

charles_leclerc you did the same with kika though

user54 ate him up omg

user81 watching their relationship grow in front of my eyes make me cry

user43 they're my favorite couple

user67 oh he travelled to spend new year's with her and her family i'm sick

user21 i love them sm

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, yourbestfriend and 198 720 others

yourusername eu, o meu monegasco e o meu porto para sempre ❤️

(me, my monégasque and my porto forever)

tagged charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc ❤️

[waitimcomingtoo]

Come Morning Light

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: you and Peeta spend a lazy day together, baking bread and drawing. takes place after first games before cf

After learning from Effie that you had a rare day off, you made your way over to Peeta’s house in the Victors Village. Things had been weird between you since returning from the games and you wanted a chance to spend some time with him to settle things. You knocked on his door and when you found it open, you made your way inside.

“Oh. Hey.” He smiled when you found him in his kitchen.

“Hey. Did I hear correctly that we actually have the day off?”

“We do. And Effie made it very clear we’re not getting another one anytime soon. So we better enjoy it.”

“How are you gonna spend it?” You asked as you leaned against his kitchen table.

“I’m just gonna bake some bread and watch the rain. All boring stuff.” Peeta said with a soft smile. Peeta thought you would leave after that, but you didn’t budge.

“Why? What were you gonna do?” He asked curiously.

“Bother you.” You shrugged with a coy smile. Peeta returned the smile when he realized you wanted to hang out but didn’t know how to ask.

“Impossible. You never bother me.” He declared.

“Never? Even after all the times I’ve woken you up screaming?”

“No. Because when I hear screaming, I know that means I get to hold you. So no, you’re never a bother.” Peeta said as if it were the most simple thing in the world. You looked down to hide the smile that he always managed to put on your face. He could never know how much you missed that reassurance that he would always be there for you when you had your nightmares.

“You know, Haymitch once told me I could live a thousand lives and never deserve you.” You told him.

“Oh, did he?” Peeta smirked and folded his arms.

“I think it may have been one of the rare times he was right about something.” You said playfully. Peeta felt ecstatic to hear you say this, but played it cool.

“Well. Even a broken clock is right twice a day.” He replied. You smiled at him before going over to where he had his baking supplies set up.

“So what kind of bread are we making today?” You asked as you picked up his apron. He playfully snatched it from you and tied it around it waist. You pretended to be offended for a second, but he was quick to provide you with a matching apron. You didn’t know why he had two if he lived alone, but you didn’t question it. You just held out hope that maybe it was for you.

“I’m making challah bread. You can just sit there and look pretty.” Peeta nodded towards his kitchen table as he tied your apron around your waist.

“Peeta, I won the Hunger Games with nothing but a bow and some berries. What makes you think I can’t make bread?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I know you can’t make bread.” He insisted. “And I know that because before you win the game, you fed me disgusting soup.”

“You said you liked my cave soup.” You gasped.

“I was trying to spare your feelings.” He said with a cheeky smile. You pretended to be offended again and threw some flour at his face.

“Wow, Peeta. Next time you get injured, don’t come to me for help.”

“Well I definitely won’t come to you for food.” He said out of the corner of his mouth. You gasped and tried to throw more flour at him but he caught your wrist and spun you around. You smiled at the gesture before playfully shoving him away.

“Please let me help. I’ll do better then the cave soup. I promise.”

“Fine. You can mix this.” Peeta said as he poured two cups of something into a mixing bowl and handed it to you. You smiled proudly and mixed the contents of the bowl with a wooden spatula.

“Is this important? Am I being helpful?” You asked as you mixed.

“No. That was just two cups of flour. You didn’t actually mix anything.” Peeta admitted. You looked up at him in surprise and he was armed and ready with a handful of flour. He tossed it at your face and laughed as you coughed.

“Peeta. Let me help.” You whined as you cleaned your face.

“Just leave the baking to the baker, all right? I don’t show up in the woods and try to hunt.” He teased as he folded some eggs into his dough.

You watched him expertly mix the dough until a light and fluffy consistency was left in the bowl. You couldn’t help but admire the way he worked, moving as if with muscle memory. To get a better look, you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder. Peeta stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into you.

“There’s no cameras in here, you know. You don’t have to pretend.” He said quietly. You were surprised by this comment and pressed your cheek against his shoulder.

“I’m not pretending anything.” You told him. “I just wanted to hold you.”

“So you’re not acting? You really want to help me bake bread?” Peeta asked skeptically as he turned around in your arms. You toyed with the strings of his apron for a second before looking up into his eyes.

“I really do.” You answered honestly. “We never get to do anything normal together. I just wanted one day where we can just be us.”

Peeta stared into your eyes for a while as he tried to decide whether he should believe you or not. He so badly wanted to, but could never fully let his guard down around you after you revealed the way you acted in the first games was partially an act.

“Okay. Come here. We have to knead the bread.” Peeta said once he decided he was satisfied with your answer. He pulled you by the hand and placed you in front of him before wrapping both arms around you.

“Oh no.” You chuckled dryly, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Oh yes. I’m a romantic. This is how we teach.” Peeta said as he put his hands over yours and began to knead the bread. You had seen this scene play out in old romantic movies that sometimes played on your TV and you knew Peeta must’ve seen them too. It was stupid, but it made you feel good inside.

“Do you teach everyone to knead bread like this?” You looked over your shoulder to question him.

“I don’t exactly go around teaching people how to make bread.” Peeta chuckled.

“Oh. I must be special then.” You smiled coyly and made eye contact with him over your shoulder. He was so close that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck and it sent tingles down your spine.

“Must be.” Peeta mumbled in your ear. You gulped and felt your face heat up, feeling grateful Peeta was behind you so he couldn’t see what he was doing to you. He continued to use his strong hands to make yours knead the bread.

“I hate the way this feels.” You said to break the silence.

“Then you’re gonna hate to hear that we have to do this for at least ten minutes.” Peeta laughed as you groaned.

“Peeta.” You whined but didn’t try to stop.

“You’re the one who wanted to stay and make bread. You could’ve run off into the forest to hunt with Gale, but you chose to spend your day off with me.” He reminded you.

“You’re right. I did.” You agreed with him as you squished the bread between your fingers.

“Where is Gale, anyway?” Peeta asked, and you could tell his intentions no matter how cool he tried to play it. He wanted to know if you were only with him today because Gale was busy.

“Probably at the Hob or something.” You shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”

“You don’t know where he is? Aren’t you guys always together?”

“Not always. I’m with you.” You said and looked over your shoulder at him. Peeta smiled timidly as he looked into your eyes.

“You’re with me?” He asked hopefully.

“Yeah. I’m with you.” You smiled at him before returned your attention to the bread.

“I can’t help but wonder for how long.” Peeta said softly. There was no self-pity in his voice, just an honest expression. You stared into the dough and felt guilty pile up in your stomach.

“I know it’s confusing. I know I’m confusing. I wish I had more answers to give you.” You said quietly without looking at him.

“It’s okay. I’m happy just doing this.” Peeta answered honestly.

“So am I.” You realized and leaned back into him.

You continued to knead the bread in comfortable silence as a gentle rain patter hit the windows. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt peace like this, peace only Peeta could give you.

“Is it done yet because it’s seriously grossing me out.” You said after a minute of the silence.

“It’s done.” Peeta chuckled. “You’re free.”

You slipped your hands out of his and quickly ran to the sink to rinse them.

“Ew, ew, ew.” You grimaced as you cleaned your hands. “That was grosser than when I had to clean out your leg wound.”

“Really? This is more disgusting than that?” Peeta laughed in surprise.

“Yes. I don’t know how you do it.” You stuck your tongue out as you dried your hands.

“I’m a baker. It’s my passion. I don’t know how you skin animals and don’t throw up.” Peeta remarked as he tossed the dough around a little and worked his hands into it. You shamelessly watched him do this for a second before snapping out of it.

“I’m a hunter. It’s my passion.” You humored him. Peeta looked at you fondly as he let out a laugh.

“You’re funny when you want to be.” He remarked as he put the loaf in the oven.

“Not you, though. You’re always funny. Even in the most life threatening situations, you’ve still made me laugh. And nobody can make me laugh.”

“I’ve noticed that. That nobody else can do it. Maybe that’s why I try so hard to be the one who can.” He admitted as he stared at you with that ever present fondness.

“Well it works.” You shrugged and held his gaze. You stared at each other for a moment before looking away in embarrassment.

“So how long does that bake for?” You asked him.

“30 minutes. Then we test it to see if it’s risen.”

“Hm. What should we do for the next 30 minutes?”

“Actually, there is something I’ve always wanted to do.” Peeta said with a timid smile.

“Uh oh. What’s that?” You asked coyly.

“Draw you. If that’s okay.”

“Haven’t you drawn me before?” You asked, knowing you’d caught glimpses of his sketches every now and then.

“Yes. But they’re all side profiles because I draw you when you aren’t looking. I want one of you facing front.”

“Okay.” You agreed as your face heated up from the request. Peeta grinned and went to grab his sketchbook as you sat on his couch. You felt the almost untouched furniture and felt sad that he lived in this great big house all by himself. When he came back, he positioned himself across from you and looked up eagerly.

“How should I pose?” You asked and raised your arms in a dramatic way you’d seen people in The Capital pose.

“Just relax. Sit how you would normally sit.” Peeta chuckled and began to sketch out your face.

“Well I don’t remember how to do that anymore.” You realized as you awkwardly shifted in your seat.

“Then just pick a way to sit and stay like that.” Peeta laughed again. You obliged and relaxed into his couch as you stared at him. He sketched the outline of your head while you studied his face closely. The sun was beginning to dim below the horizon, making Peeta’s foyer his favorite color, a soft orange. The way the light hit him made his blonde hair and eyelashes appear golden.

“Your eyelashes are so blond.” You commented without thinking.

“What?” Peeta looked up as his entire face turned red.

“I’ve never noticed that before. They’re so blond and shiny. They look almost golden from here. Like Effie’s hair.”

“This place gets really good lighting. It’s a shame I’m the only one who knows that.” Peeta said with a sad smile.

“Now you’re one of two who knows.” You replied, making his smile go from sad to lovelorn.

“That’s true.” He said softly. You exchanged a smile before he went back to drawing you. You felt like you were spying on him from his closely you were watching him but you never got to see him this peaceful. You studied the way his hands moved around his sketchbook and admired how they somehow knew exactly where to go.

“What are you staring at?” Peeta asked, catching you in the act. You gulped and knew you were caught, so you just came clean.

“Your hands.” You admitted and didn’t meet his eyes.

“Why?” He asked, face still in a rose blush.

“I can’t talk. I’m posing.” You said in an attempt to change the subject with a joke.

“You’re all done posing, actually. Come take a look.” Peeta said. You got up from your couch and leaned over him to look at what he had drawn. On his sketch pad was a perfect little charcoal drawing of you. You hadn’t posed for him yet he managed to perfectly capture your most neutral expression. You knew he most likely drew it from memory since you were definitely no help while posing.

“Peeta. That’s beautiful.” You gasped and looked into his eyes. Peeta looked up at you as you leaned over him and blinked slowly.

“Yeah. You are.” He spoke softly. You looked into Peeta’s eyes before letting your gaze drop down to his lips. Before you could psych yourself out, you leaned down to kiss him. Your lips had merely brushed his when the timer went off, making you jump at the sound.

“The bread is-“

Peeta cut your sentence off by tilting his chin the rest of the way up to kiss you. He sat up on his knees and slipped a hand behind your head to properly kiss you as the timer continued to go off in the background. When he pulled away, you were left breathless while he moved some hair off your forehead.

“Sorry. I wasn’t about to miss out on that kiss for bread.” Peeta smirked as he got off the couch. You watched him walk back into the kitchen and touched your fingertips to your lips. You were still buzzing from the kiss as you walked into the kitchen.

“It smells amazing. I can’t wait to try it.” You smiled politely while Peeta took the bread out of the oven. Once it cooled, you took a knife and went to cut into it.

“Woah woah, what are you doing?” Peeta stopped you.

“Cutting the bread?”

“You can’t just hack into it. There is an art to cutting bread, my dear. Here. Let me show you.” Peeta said as he wrapped his arms around you from behind again.

“Oh boy. Here we go.” You playfully rolled your eyes but didn’t protest.

“It’s like this. Yeah?” He said into your ear. You stayed silent as you watched his hands work over yours to cut the bread into perfect diagonal slices.

“You staring at my hands again?” He asked suddenly, making you freeze.

“Maybe.”

“Why do you keep doing that?” He chuckled softly in your ear.

“I don’t know. Maybe I just like them and can’t really explain why.”

“I know the feeling.” He whispered in your ear after a beat of silence. Peeta let go of one of your hands and used it to touch your side braid.

“Your braid is on a different side today.”

“Oh. Yeah. It is.” You gulped as he toyed with the end of your braid. His hand moved to your shoulder as he placed a kiss on the side of your neck that your braid wasn’t on. It sent shivers down your spine and you didn’t want him to stop.

“I like it.” He whispered against your skin and placed another kiss on your neck.

“You noticed that it was different?” You asked as you turned around in his arms.

“I notice everything about you.” Peeta said simply. You looked into his eyes and smiled before taking hand hand. You brought two prices of bread over to his front door and opened it. You sat across from each other and watched the late afternoon rain that drizzled through the dimming sunshine. You bit into the warm bread and listened the rain falling while Peeta just watched you. When you noticed him staring, you gave him a pointed look and nudged his shoe with your foot.

“You know, Effie told me there’s a stove on the train.” You told him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe you can show me how to make cake tomorrow?” You asked, making Peeta’s smile grow.

“Sure.” He nodded. “Anything you want.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Self Control.

Javi keeps refusing himself what he wants. One night puts everything into perspective.

Pairing - Javier Peña x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, mentions of blood and death

Word Count - 3429

Author's Note - hello lovely people, hope you're all well. i've been a huge fan of pedro pascal since his narcos days, so all of this love for him happening currently is making me very happy. javier peña is perhaps my favourite tv character of all time, so i'm very excited to share this story with you. i'd always love to write more javi stuff, so if you ever have any thoughts, please send them my way. i'm happy to write for all pedro characters actually!! as always, much love x

Masterlist. Requests.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. 

It was supposed to be simple. A routine raid. Get the information and go. 

How did it all go so wrong? 

Gunshots. Blood. A sea of green uniforms scattering the ground. Escobar had somehow known about it. He was taking no prisoners. 

The Search Bloc had lost men. The Colombian Police had lost men. You were just praying that you hadn't. 

Javier Peña and Steve Murphy were still out there. You had no idea if they were okay. They could be shot, bleeding out. Kidnapped. Or worse. 

No. 

You're driving yourself insane thinking of all the possible worse case scenarios. Your mind can't help but go there. It's instinct. 

You're sat waiting. Hoping. Praying. You've made your home at Javi and Steve's desks - they're more central to the action than your own. You're watching the front doors, sat in Javi's chair. It smells like cigarette smoke, and musk, and him. You let the familiar scent envelope you, allowing it to bring you comfort. You breathe him in. He'll be here soon. You know he will.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Javier Peña was a complicated man. An enigma. He was tough, but gentle. Rugged, but tender. Commanding, but reserved. He was one big juxtaposition. Impossible to read. 

Or so he thought. 

You came along, and challenged every single one of his existing beliefs. You turned him soft - more understanding, more empathetic. He'll tell you he hates it. He lies. 

You weren't supposed to be here. Not really. You'd followed your brother, a DEA agent, all the way from Texas to Colombia. He'd told you he was being sent to South America to assist with the Pablo Escobar situation, and you'd packed your bags without a second thought. You had no one else. Wherever he goes, you go. Except one place. 

He'd died two months into the job. Shot dead by Escobar's men, in a situation that he shouldn't have even been in. And all of a sudden, you were alone. Alone in an unfamiliar place. Alone in the world. 

Javier made sure that wasn't true. He took you under his wing like an injured baby bird, slowly but surely nursing you back to health. He'd been there, when Carrillo had told you the fate of your brother. He'd caught you in his arms when your knees had given out, held you like he was scared you were going to shatter into a thousand pieces. He was holding you together. He has been, ever since. 

You were just a secretary. The odd one out. The only woman. Looked down on. People pitied you, really. You heard the things they said. Even if you didn't understand, you heard. You could take a guess. 

The world was a terrifying place for a woman. It was a terrifying place in general. But it seemed to be less scary knowing that Javier and Steve were at their desks just across the precinct every day. Your safety blankets. Your protectors. Which is exactly why the thought of losing either of them was currently ripping you apart from the inside out.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your eyes shot up every time the door opened. Slowly but surely, members of the Search Bloc filtered in - many of them bloody, and injured, but alive. You weren't taking your eyes off the entrance to the precinct. Not for a second. Not when any minute, Peña and Murphy could walk in, and everything would be okay again. Any minute now, you reassure yourself. Any minute now. 

You hear steel toe boots on the linoleum floor, and your breath hitches… but it’s Colonel Carrillo. He spots you from across the room and strides over, ignoring any pleas for his attention from the Search Bloc guys. He envelopes you in a hug - professionalism be damned.

“Are you okay?”, you ask when he pulls back. “What happened? I’ve been going insane listening over the radio.”

“I’m okay, mi amor. We’re still trying to figure out what went wrong. He knew, someone had to have told him.”

You’re just about to ask him about Murphy and Peña when he says,

“We got separated in the chaos. I don’t know where they are, but I’m sure they’re fine. Try not to panic, okay?”

He’s looking at you carefully, and you’re nodding, but you know you aren’t going to take his advice. If anything, now you’re panicking more. Men are filtering through the door every minute, but none of them are the two you’re looking for. Anxiety creeps into your stomach, wraps its claws around your insides. You can’t shake it. You feel like you’re being swallowed by dread - it’s all too familiar. You know exactly what it’s like to have someone you love go into the field and not return.

Carrillo strokes your cheekbone with his thumb gently, and leaves to attend to his men. You sit back down in Javi’s chair, trying to burrow into his scent, the warmth of the leather. You can imagine his big strong arms wrapping themselves around you, the way he nuzzles his nose into the crown of your head when he hugs you, how he traces patterns on your back when he holds you when you’re particularly upset. 

You think about Steve, and the way he winks at you when you catch eye contact across the room, or how he throws an arm around your shoulders whenever he sidles over to your desk to bother you. He’s always stealing candy from your top drawer, and then acting innocent when you call him out on it. You feign annoyance, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You know you’re lucky to have the two of them looking out for you. You know you’re lucky to have Carrillo on your side too - life would be undoubtedly more difficult without his protection. They make you feel less vulnerable, more equal. You no longer feel like a lamb at the slaughter every time you walk into work. 

Drops of water hit your lap, and you realize you’re crying. Warm, wet tears slide down your cheeks, taking streaks of your mascara with them. Your lipstick has smudged where you’ve been peeling at the skin of your lips, and your nail polish has been incessantly picked at for hours. You know you look just as much of a mess on the outside as you feel on the inside. You close your eyes, and take a deep breath. Calm down, you tell yourself. You’d know if something bad had happened to them. You’d feel it. 

It’s as if time has become molten - sticky, warm molasses. Minutes feel like hours. The world is moving in slow motion, and it’s making you dizzy. Your breath is coming in short, sharp pants, and the urge to curl up into a ball grows stronger by the second. If the boys don’t show up soon, you’re convinced you’re going to crumble into a thousand pieces. You feel like you’re shattering, splitting apart at the seams. Fear sits on your chest like an ugly, relentless creature, choking you with each passing minute. The world is getting colder, darker, and you’re defenseless.

And just like that, your sun appears. Battered, bruised, bloody, but alive. Standing in the doorway, panting and breathless, is Javier Peña. Before you can register what’s happening, you’re leaping out of his chair, and practically running to close the distance between you. You collide with the solid mass of a man, and he wraps his arms around you like it’s second nature. He smells like cigarettes and musk and gunpowder and the outdoors and smoke and home. Relief fills your body, and the weight of it almost knocks you off your feet. You settle further into his chest like you belong there, pressing your nose into him and inhaling. 

You pull away, and notice that his chest is damp. The tears from before are back with a vengeance, sprinting their way down your cheeks, forming puddles wherever they can reach. You’re not sure if you’re crying due to happiness, or fear, or relief - perhaps a mixture of all three. You’re both still panting, looking at each other in disbelief. You fist your hands into the front of his shirt, as if to ground yourself to him. Checking he’s real. In the flesh.

“Don’t cry, cariño. I’m here. I’m okay. We’re okay.” 

He’s murmuring quietly to you, as if you’re the only two people in the room. He reaches out, and gently uses his thumbs to swipe away the tears that are still escaping. Cradling your face in his big, calloused hands, he looks at you earnestly.

“I’ll always come back, bonita. You know I will. Just like I promised.”

He presses his forehead to yours, and for the first time in hours, you relax. You stay pressed together like that for what feels like an eternity, until you hear familiar footsteps approaching. 

You break away from Javier to get a good look at Steve. He too is battered and bruised - hair mussed, shirt torn, blood staining his jeans and his hands. But he’s alive. That’s all that matters.

“Murphy,” you breathe, before wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You’d go out there and take down Escobar yourself if you could. If it meant you didn’t have to see your friends in pain anymore. This job is killing you all from the inside out, slowly but surely. You’re all shells of yourselves. You wonder how much longer you’re all going to be able to cope before you snap. You have a feeling that these two men in front of you are closer to their breaking points than you think. 

“God, I need to shower. I’ve never sweat this much in my life,” Steve remarks, and now that you’re looking at him, you can’t help but agree. You nod, smirk etched on your face, and the corners of his lips turn up. A slight smile from Steve. That’s a win.

A voice rumbles from behind you in response to Murphy’s statement. Jesus, Javi was closer to you than you thought.

“Yeah, me too. You go. I’ll drive her home.” He places a hand on the small of your back, and you can feel the warmth of him seeping through his palm.  He always runs so hot, you think to yourself. Your sun.

Murphy squeezes your arm and heads out the door, leaving you and Javier standing in the middle of the precinct. Everyone seems to be heading home, the room becoming increasingly quiet. You figure the two of you should follow suit. You gesture at Javi to give you a minute, and make your way over to the Colonel’s office, popping your head in the doorway. 

“You should go home, Carrillo,” you say softly. “You need to sleep just as much as the rest of us.”

He smiles at you tentatively, his face dampened with worry. You can see clear as day that he’s blaming himself for the events of the evening. You also know that there’s nothing you can say to make it better.

“I will, querida. I will.”

And with that, you grab your things from your desk, and make your way over to where Javi is waiting for you. He returns his hand to the small of your back, and guides you to his car.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your hands are shaking when you try to unlock the front door to your apartment. You can’t quite get the key in the lock, and it’s becoming frustrating. Why are you acting like you were the one being shot at tonight? All you had to do was sit at your desk and wait. Get a grip, you tell yourself. You’ve had it the easiest.

Javi can see you’re struggling, so he reaches out and opens the door for you. You step inside, immediately kicking off your heels and throwing down your purse. You turn on the lamp in the corner of the living room, and draw the blinds. All the while, Javi stands in the doorway, watching you complete your nightly rituals. It’s disarming to see you like this, he thinks. So domestic. So at peace.

He clears his throat awkwardly, and places his hand on the doorknob.

“Let me leave you alone, cariño. You need to rest. The adrenaline of tonight is going to wear off any minute, and we’re all gonna crash.”

He takes a step, but you lunge forward in his direction to stop him.

“Wait! Wait. I - I don’t… I can’t - please.” You can’t find the right words. In fact, you’re not even sure what you’re asking for.

He steps back inside your apartment, and shuts the door behind him gently, making sure to lock the deadbolt. He’s never been a man to take stupid chances when it comes to your safety. When it comes to you.

“What is it, mi amor?”, he asks carefully. “What do you need?”

“You,” you answer without a second thought. “Please don’t leave. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight if you leave.”

He looks at you for a moment - carefully surveying. He takes in your appearance, the pain in your eyes, the way you look so small and fearful standing in front of him. It’s not even a question.

He kicks off his boots, and takes his wallet and his cigarettes out from the back pocket of his jeans, placing them on the counter. Then, he strides over, across the room, and smothers you in a hug that he’s convinced he probably needs more than you. 

You stand like that, embraced in each other, for what feels like forever. Two people breathing each other in, trying to absorb the other person. If you could crawl into Javier’s chest, bury yourself into his ribcage, you would. No hug is ever close enough. Never enough. It’s never enough.

“I’ll stay,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’ll always stay.”

You pull back to gaze into those big brown eyes, warm and sweet like chocolate. He looks serene, peaceful, almost. You don’t get to see him like this very often.

“You should shower,” you tell him quietly. You’re worried that you’re going to spook one another, so you both keep the volume to a minimum. “I’ll make us some tea.”

He nods gently, and makes his way to your bathroom. Moments later, you hear the water running, so you begin to boil the kettle, reaching for two mugs from your cabinet.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You place a mug of tea on each nightstand either side of your bed, and slip out of your skirt and blouse. You opt for a tank top and shorts - the Colombian heat still unrelenting, even in the early hours of the morning. The sun will be up soon, you think. A new day.

Javi stands in the doorway of your bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips. Droplets of water are journeying down his chest, and your eyes follow, as if on instinct. He smirks when he catches you, watching your face heat up slightly.

“Cute bedsheets,” he remarks. “I like the love hearts.”

He’s still smirking, so you get up to smack him on the arm.

“Shut up, Javier,” you threaten, with no real malice. “Your tea is on the nightstand.”

You turn your back when he changes back into his black boxers, which only amuses him further. He can’t help but admire you from his place across the room. The way your hair blows slightly with the breeze from the opened window, the band of skin between where your tank top ends and your shorts begin, the sweat at the nape of your neck. He knows you’d taste like salt and sugar simultaneously. It takes everything in him not to run his tongue up your spine. You shiver from your spot on the edge of the bed, as if you can read his mind.

“I’m dressed, querida,” he almost whispers. You turn around, and shamelessly let your eyes rake over his golden skin, wishing so badly to reach out and touch him. He’s wearing significantly less clothes than you expected. Not that you’re complaining.

He lays down carefully on one side of your bed, stretching himself out on his back. You turn off the lamp on the nightstand, and lay down on the other side, careful to keep some distance between the two of you. You thought that having him here would relax you, but it seems to be doing the opposite. You feel like your nerve endings are on fire - the room is too warm, you can’t seem to get your lungs to fill with air, you’re hyper aware of every little movement in the room. You’re on edge.

Javi’s breathing is deep, calculated. He’s trying to keep calm. Everything in him is screaming to reach out and touch you, to throw an arm around your waist, to tangle his legs in between yours. He’s not sure he’s ever shown this level of self control.

“Javi,” you breathe. “Relax, please. I can feel how tense you are from here.”

He takes a deep breath before he answers you.

“Sorry, mi vida. I’m just - I’m… I’m trying.”

“Trying?”

“Trying to use every inch of restraint that I have.”

Your breath hitches, and he hears it, clear as day.

“What for?” you whisper.

“To resist the urge to touch you.”

You’re breathing quicker now, and so is he. The air in the room is thick with tension - it’s a miracle you’re both still conscious. 

“You’ve never really been one to deny yourself of the things you want, Javi," you whisper. "You’re not usually the patron saint of self control.” 

And with that, he snaps. He grabs your hips, and uses effortless strength to pull you so you’re straddling him, settled in his lap. He sits up to bring your faces level, and presses his forehead into yours, just like he did mere hours ago in the precinct. 

You know that tonight has changed everything for the two of you. You also know there’s no going back from this - you can’t uncross this line. The friendship that exists between you and Javi, a relationship that’s been so carefully built on trust and support and boundaries - permanently altered if you continue. You just can’t seem to find it in you to care. Not really. You want Javier Peña for all he is, all he has. Consequences be damned.

“I love you, cariño,” he breathes into your mouth. “Fuck, I love you.”

You’re convinced that any minute, you’re going to wake up from this beautiful dream. But for now, you make the most of it.

“I love you, Javier Peña. I love you so much it hurts.”

And with that, he’s kissing you. It’s desperate, and it’s needy, and it’s so full of love you’re worried that you’re going to pass out. His lips are on your lips, and he’s got one hand firmly at the nape of your neck, holding you in place. As if I’m going anywhere, you think. I’d happily stay here forever.

You’re so lost in each other that you don’t notice the sunrise. Dawn hits the window, casting an orange hue across the room. Javi looks like he’s glowing, the sunlight glinting off his hair. Golden boy.

He pulls off your shirt, and presses his chest to yours. He’s convinced you’re tethered to each other - he can feel the connection through your skin. It almost makes him want to cry, this feeling. It’s never felt like this before. It never will again. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, ensuring that there isn’t a centimeter of space between you. You don’t know what today holds. You know it won’t be easy. But you’re comforted by the fact that you know Javi will be right there beside you. No matter what happens from this moment on, Javi is always going to be right there beside you.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you breathe into his mouth.

“I love you, mi alma,” he breathes back. “Mi corazón, mi alma.”

My heart, my soul. It’s as if he took the words right out of your mouth. 

Mi corazón, mi alma.

My heart, my soul.

[talaofthevalley]

Wonder what woulda happened if Ai hadn't interrupted here.

Cause like, Yusaku and Spectre are like mirrors of each other, this episode establishes that pretty clearly. And even though Playmaker starts out thinking every victim thought the incident was alike to hell, you do see signs that he's trying to understand Spectre's perspective. He asks Spectre questions, and interestingly Spectre answers, honestly at that.

Playmaker asks, and listens, and it seems like he's on the verge of something when Ai interrupts the conversation.

I don't exactly think Ai was wrong to pull this, they had no time and Ai is correct that it's pointless to talk to Spectre right now, since nothing except for Revolver's word would have made him let Playmaker pass. But the more interesting part for me comes from what he says after;

Beyond showcasing Ai's ability to manipulate, if Ai meant this seriously and thought it would play a big part in putting Yusaku into complete duel mode, then Ai doesn't understand Yusaku very well.

He says Yusaku and Spectre are nothing alike, which a normal watcher who's paid attention can pretty easily dispute. Playmaker doesn't acknowledge this claim, only realises they're on a time limit and they need to move. It's the reminder that the Tower of Hanoi is activating that gets him moving. Being told they're nothing alike isn't reassuring for Yusaku, because he's already realised him and Spectre are alike.

It's those similarities that make Yusaku understand Spectre a little, relate to him in a way he couldn't with any other Knight of Hanoi. But even when Yusaku relates or understands his opponent, it doesn't stop him from fighting. Yusaku's thrown from meeting someone with such a opposite perspective on the incident that ruined his life, but still possess such large similarities to him.

While Yusaku cannot comprehend enjoying the incident like Spectre did, I think he understands and relates to some of what Spectre describes here.

What little we know of Yusaku's life post-Lost Incident is that he recieved treatment for what he went through, tried to forget the incident and live a normal life. When we're shown flashbacks of young Yusaku after the incident, he's notably distant from everyone, if not physically then in his expression.

A big empty room filled with toys. No reaction to a kind-looking woman gently holding his hand. Introduced to what seems to be a new class of kids he doesn't know. Sat at the back, apart from the rest. Even if Yusaku was treated nicer than Spectre was, it was obviously not enough and came with its own hardships. And if he couldn't even talk about his experiences like Spectre, it would make adjusting even harder and the distance between him and others larger.

I'm especially honing in on the comment Spectre makes about Yusaku's life before the incident.

"If the incident hurt you, you must've led a happy a happy life before."

Spectre doesn't know that, he's drawing a conclusion based on observation and the information he has. But it's a conclusion Yusaku can't affirm or deny, because he doesn't have any memories of his life before the incident. The idea that the reason it affected him so much being because he was happy beforehand might not have even crossed his mind.

And then we have this fun little tidbit;

A place to belong. Something we in retrospect knows Yusaku feels he doesn't have, but wants. He can understand that desire very well. And if Spectre feels he has found that place with Revolver, then who is Yusaku to tell him he's wrong?

This framing tells a thousand words I think, cause we have Playmaker and Spectre in the same shot, but the focus is on Playmaker's face. It's hard to read his expression, but to me it comes off as thoughtful, still serious but he's considering Spectre's words and conviction here like he would any other opponent. It's like watching Yusaku building an understanding towards Spectre in real time.

Yusaku can understand that kind of loyalty. That unwavering dedication to someone who saved your soul when you needed it the most.

There are so many moments in S1 where Yusaku pulls on the memory of that person to gather strenght, to accomplish his goal of not only defeating Hanoi and learn the truth, but to meet that person again and save them if they are still in danger. Yusaku has survived this far on the memory of that kind voice that reached out to him at his lowest. He's dedicated in a way that, if he ever came to learn of the details, I think Spectre would similarly relate to.

dunno man it's fun to think about. I still have the rest of the duel to rewatch so who knows maybe my brain will be tickled even further or I've said something super contradicting that will be shown in just the following episode. The amount this show can give me to gnaw on in a single episode is kind of amasing.