#He's so stressed out! And sad! And small!!

[pacofprunes]

THIS GIRLS JUST GOTTA BE KISSED

SUMMARY — you stress over him due to how stupid he can be sometimes. you express this to him but his ears aren’t on. all he can do is think how badly he has to kiss you.

watch this to understand the kiss.

PAIRING — daegil x reader (tazza hidden card)

WARNINGS — this is fluff! there’s like one mention of death and use of the word suicide but it’s not sad.

“gosh daegil, you’re so…”

“handsome?”

“i was going to say stupid.”

he pouts at you before going back to playing with his lighter.

“i’ll be done soon, okay? i just gotta close some ties first…”

“and when will that be, daegil? when you’re laying in your coffin from getting too involved with this stupid gambling shit?”

he stills, pausing his flicking of his lighter and you drop your head on the table. you close your eyes against the cold table and mess with your hair in one hand. the bang from your head meeting the table causes daegil to snap his head up.

“i don’t want you to die over some money.”

you mumbled that. you hear steps being taken toward you before a hand meets your shoulder, causing you to lift your head and make eye contact with daegil. he rubs his hand on your shoulder before giving you a small smile.

“i promise i’ll quit soon.”

you just sigh and look back down. soon wasn’t good enough. he had so many people praying on his downfall. he could die tomorrow just by going on a walk to the store. he lets out a huff before kicking the leg of the chair that you were sitting in, almost making it tip over before you grip the table and pull yourself back up.

“what the heck daegil?”

he lets out a laugh. his laugh was definitely a funny one, very contagious. it was a silly childish laugh that had you holding in your own and finally you let it out, your own laugh following his.

“it’s good to have validation that you think i’m funny.”

“no, but your laugh is.”

he crosses his arms over each other and sends a pout your way and you wave him off before standing and moving past him to go outside and get some air and he follows quickly behind you. for a moment you just stare into the sky before turning around to look up at him and you sigh, moving your hands to your hips.

“you ever think i maybe wanted some space?”

“do you own the sky?”

you give him a small laugh and look down at his chest.

“you know you didn’t come out here to look at the sky.”

you feel him shift a little and you lift your head from his chest see him looking up at the sky before he put his head down to see you looking up at him.

“i just was though, wasn’t i?”

you just roll your eyes and turn around, your back facing him again and he moves to stand beside you, the wind sending chills up his back and he shakes his head a little. his normally calm hair looking messy. he looks over at you now and oh god, you were absolutely stunning. standing in the moonlight with your hair blowing through the wind, he wishes he could take a picture. you feel his hand glide against your cheek as he moves your face over to look at him. oh how your eyes were so pretty, especially in this lighting. he could get lost in them.

“is there something you need sir?”

he scoffs before dropping his hand from your cheek and looking at you like you’re crazy.

“sir?”

you ignore him and change the topic quickly.

“i’m not happy with you right now which is why i came outside, you can go now.”

you give him a sarcastic smile, raising your eyebrows before turning away from him again, facing the street now. after a long while of silence you speak up again.

“you can be a ‘hustler’ without being an idiot on a suicide mission.”

“so it’s still about that?”

you let out a groan and just ignore him. he was clearly incapable of understanding how you felt. he looks up at the sky before scoffing and shaking his head, thinking of his next move. he knew he wasn’t going to listen to you and he knew he wasn’t going to stop gambling right now. he couldn’t, so you’d be mad at him for awhile. he hums to himself in thought and you look over to try and get a good look at him before he catches notice of you, but he immediately snaps his head over your way and smirks, causing you to look the other way. a light blush paints your cheeks.

“your pupils were pretty big there. you must think i’m just great.”

he’s found a new mission. if you’re just going to stay angry and bicker with him or ignore him, he’s just going to make you talk to him. he looks back at the sky hoping for an idea of what he should do next, and that’s when the idea comes to his head. when you’re not looking he looks over at you a little and smirks.

he looks back up at the sky, mouthing thank you to the stars as if they gave him his idea and he turns his body to you and you look up at him with confusion before he pulls you into his arms and presses a kiss to your lips. he bends his knees as he dips you, having a hold on the back of your head. you have to gather yourself before you can even reciprocate back. cupping the side of his face and pressing your forehead to his. he moves his lips away from yours but still has you dipped low to the ground. as you open your eyes, your sparkling orbs meet his, causing his heart to pause its motion before a shy yet cheeky grin forms on his face.

“you can’t be too mad at me now.”

you roll your eyes and bite the inside of your cheek before you start to blush a little, suddenly embarrassed at the proximity. you look directly into his eyes and it causes him to gain an even deeper blush on his. he pulls you up from the dip, but still has a hold on you, keeping you close to him and you press your face against his chest as you hold onto the sides of his arms.

“i really can be mad still.”

he frowns before you look up at him and you cup his cheek again.

“but i guesssss for now i’ll leave it be.”

he presses another kiss against your lips and you can feel his smile against you before he finally pulls away and pulls you back into him for a tight suffocating hug.

“you just can’t stay mad at me, can you?”

you pull away and give him a warning look before he starts spewing out apologies and patting your back and you just laugh. there was a lot of things you two needed to fix, and a lot of things to be mad at him for, but you can’t dwell on things forever. for now you’ll indulge in him instead of staying so mad. besides, why would you punish yourself for his stupid actions? just because he doesn’t know how to make smart decisions doesn’t mean you have to deprive yourself from his touch. you feel like a babysitter sometimes and honestly, he’s probably taking years off of your life from his stupidity and childlike antics. but at least they’ll be some of the best years you’d ever have.

[lvrslvt3]

Hey girl! Could you possibly do some headcannons for dating willne?? Love your work xx

main masterlist | willne masterlist | yt masterlist

౨ৎ    everytime you go on a night out will waits up for you, no matter what. he has food, water and medicine and your favourite hoodie of his on standby.

౨ৎ he waits until your doing the dishies to sneakily add his, giggling when it sets you off while apologing with kisses as u cleaned.

౨ৎ he wakes you up when he returns from a late night of editing, kissing ur forehead. when you rise, disheveled looking, he chuckles at the sleepiness evident in your appearance. “what’re you laughing at?” “you’re cute when you’re half asleep.”

౨ৎ you teach him how to blow dry your hair so after you shower you sit on the floor and lean into his leg as he does your hair, fighting sleep.

౨ৎ you keeping him up with stupid, mindless convorsation. “"do you think we'd still be a couple in an alternate universe?" "go to bed." "what if we already got married and have five kids?” "go to bed." “what if we were cousins?”

౨ৎ when having movie nights on the couch you always fall asleep, and when will wakes you to go to bed you pout until he carries you. but ofcourse, he is thanked with lots of kisses and another pout until he got your water aswell. will pretends to hate it but he secretly loves it.

౨ৎ him dealing with you drunk. “you’re too good for me, look at your face.” you cry out as he ushers out of the pub at the end of the night, a cheeky grin on his face.

౨ৎ jokingly calls you clingy, but always has to have a part of him touching you, wether it’s a hug or simply a hand on ur back.

౨ৎ everytime you mention liking a food or drink he will bulk buy it so that you always have it. when you make a big deal of it he gets sheepish and shrugs you off to hide the blush that overtakes his cheeks.

౨ৎ you make tiktoks to promote james’s songs with will, and fans make sad edits of you being the ‘other woman.’

౨ৎ when he’s up before you he will make his side of the bed, give you’re forehead a kiss before tucking you in and sending you a nice text message to wake up to if he is leaving your flat

౨ৎ sometimes when you go on tangents will kisses you to quiet you down so you don’t get stressed.

౨ৎ walks into your room and moves your phone from ur hands so he can lay on top of you, sighing intently as you play with his hair and begging for you to tickle his back so that he can take a nap.

౨ৎ you do the same when he’s on the couch, putting all your weight on top of him as he sprawles out on the small space. he puts the blankets of you and massages ur head as u watch tv until you fall asleep.

౨ৎ you would both accidentally win, even though neither of you were trying that hard, at your friends game nights. “we did it! oh my god, I could kiss you.” “well don’t be shy.”

౨ৎ whenever he makes you food he always gives you the large portions possible

[himluv]

The Incident, pt. 2

Impossibly, this is Chapter 30(?!?!?!) of my Rookanis fic Say My Name (Say it Twice). Thank you to everyone who's been reading along and leaving such wonderful comments. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Read The Incident, pt. 1

Read from the beginning

With Embria sky-high on gingerwort truffle tea, Lucanis's night has been thoroughly derailed. But... is that really such a bad thing?

The trip through the Crossroads was slow, and stressful. For the most part Rook was in a good mood, marveling at the magic all around them, and laughing at things Lucanis could neither see nor hear. But Spite was furious, spitting and hissing and shouting the whole way about her being poisoned. It did nothing to help Lucanis focus on helping her. And then she burst into tears as he tried to get her into the Caretaker’s boat.

“I can’t swim,” she cried over and over. 

“I know, Embria, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” She sniffled. “It’s embarrassing! What kind of person doesn’t know how to swim?”

He shrugged. “Plenty of people.”

She looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Do you know how to swim?”

He winced. “Yes.”

Her face crumpled and two delicate tears fell, one down each cheek. He tried to guide her into the boat, but she just shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Dweller,” the Caretaker said in its soothing voice. “You are safe here.”

She sniffed and wiped at her face. She looked at the spirit for a long moment, as if she couldn’t see it correctly, then she looked back to the boat and stepped right in. 

Lucanis sighed and thanked the Caretaker as he sat down next to her. She instantly put her head on his shoulder and sniffled some more. 

“What’s happening to me?”

His heart clenched at how small and frightened she sounded. “The gingerwort truffle tea, remember?”

She chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Worms.” She snorted. “Creators, Assan is so funny.”

He had never heard her use the Elven gods as a curse, or even invoke them in reverence. She’d given that up when it became clear the Evanuris were not the benevolent beings the Dalish had always believed. So, Lucanis knew she was very, very impaired for it to fall off her tongue so easily, and without notice. 

Mierda, he was going to kill Davrin. 

“Lucanis?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

He peered down at her, frowning. “For what?”

She heaved a disappointed sigh. “I don’t think we’re going to meet in the music room tonight, after all.”

He chuckled at that. “No, probably not.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pressed the corner of his mouth to her forehead. “But, that’s all right.”

She peered up at him, her pupils still so, so wide. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Embria, I’m sure.”

They were quiet for a moment, the Caretaker rowing them through the Fade. It was almost peaceful, until Rook sniffled and wiped at her face. 

Rook. Is crying! Again?! Spite howled. He was handling Embria’s impairment much worse than she was. 

Lucanis froze, momentarily unsure what to do. Then he gently rubbed his hand up and down her back. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…” She shuddered and shook her head. “I’m sad.”

He took a deep breath, knowing this was going to be a long evening. “About what?”

Her face crumpled as a fresh wave of tears overwhelmed her. “I really wanted to see you tonight.”

He smiled, but bit back his chuckle. It wouldn’t do to hurt her feelings now. “I know,” he said. “But, I’m here, now.”

She sat up so she could look right at him. She was a mess, her cheeks wet and blotched red from crying. Her eyes were swollen and her chin wobbled with the force of her frown. “Will you stay with me?”

He blinked at her for a moment, not comprehending the question. Did she think this little incident would chase him away from her? “What do you mean?”

She sniffled. “When we get to the Lighthouse,” she said. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He let out a relieved sigh. “Of course,” he said. He’d already planned to stay by her side – she could not be left on her own like this. 

The Caretaker brought the boat up to the dock at Beacon Island without a word. Lucanis helped Rook up and carefully guided her back onto solid ground. Her grip on his elbow was so tight, he knew that, if not for his leathers, she’d leave bruises. 

Only when they stepped through into the Lighthouse, did Lucanis think about where to take Rook. She was right, he couldn’t leave her alone in this condition. The Lighthouse was a perilous place on a normal day – he couldn’t imagine navigating it while hallucinating. 

But, he also knew he couldn’t sit with her in her chambers. Not even two weeks ago that room had unraveled him completely. And while he was improving daily, he wasn’t ready to spend hours facing that wall of water and its pale, shimmering blue light. 

There was the music room, but there wasn’t anywhere comfortable to lay, and he knew Rook would need to sleep this off eventually. Which left the pantry. His room. His cot. 

His mouth went dry at the thought. He’d fantasized about bringing her to his room, about retrying that mortifying almost-kiss, and where that might lead now that they were together. But, he had never imagined her in his room like this.

Spite settled now that they were back in the Lighthouse, the demon’s anger relegated to faint hissing and growls. He circled Rook protectively as Lucanis led her through the library and out into the courtyard. They were lucky, for once, and no one was outside. The last thing he wanted was to explain to the others what had happened, and where he was taking her. 

He led her into his room without incident, but once he closed the door, she stopped and blinked around the room. 

“This is the pantry,” she said.

“It is,” he said. He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to leave you alone like this.”

Embria smiled at him, slow and sweet. “Thank you, Lucanis.”

He nodded, then ducked down to grab the spare blankets from under his cot. He laid them out and made an attempt to fluff the thin, sad pillow he sometimes used. His bed was uncomfortable by design, to make it hard to fall asleep. But it would have to do for now. 

“Get comfortable,” he said. “Have you eaten since breakfast?”

She nodded, shrugging out of her Halla leather overcoat. “There were snacks with tea.”

He did not even want to try to imagine what Davrin thought passed for snacks to pair with his atrocious tea. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head, and now that her tears had subsided, Lucanis thought she looked a little pale. Right. Strife had suggested a bucket, and he should probably get a carafe of cool water and a washcloth. Just in case.  

“I’m going to get us some water, all right? I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, but it was a slow, dazed motion. He was not at all sure she’d heard him, but he needed to get that bucket, so he stepped out quickly and gathered some supplies. When he returned to the pantry Rook stood bent over a basket, her arms elbow deep in coffee beans. She was giggling and swirling her hands through the beans, and her pants were on the floor. 

Lucanis stood and stared for a long moment, processing the sight before him. 

She still wore her long-sleeved linen tunic, which was long enough to reach her mid-thigh. Though, the slits at the hip showed a hint of the brown fabric of the shorts she wore underneath. She wasn’t technically indecent, but he was certainly not prepared to see so much of her skin. 

He might be taller than her, but Embria carried more weight, her body full and curved. Her legs were pale and looked so smooth and, Maker help him, there was no gap between her thighs when she stood upright. He desperately wanted to run a hand up the inside of her leg, to know how soft and warm her skin would be just beneath the hem of her tunic. 

And these were wildly inappropriate thoughts to have about her at this moment. She was impaired, as good as poisoned by one of Viago’s concoctions. She was vulnerable, and he would never take advantage of that. 

But, mierda. She looked good. 

He closed the door behind him and pointedly did not look at her as he stepped past to set the bucket beside the bed. He pulled a carafe of water, a bowl, a washcloth, and two glasses out of the bucket and set them on the side table nearest the cot. He poured some of the water into the bowl, and soaked the washcloth in it. Then he poured her a glass of water. Only then did he clear his throat and turn to face her. 

She was still playing with the coffee beans, a wide grin on her face, but her eyelids drooped and her skin was quickly losing color. 

“Embria,” he said. “Do you want to lay down?”

Her brow furrowed as she considered his words. Then she nodded, and tottered over to him. Lucanis was very, very careful to keep his eyes on her face as she approached him. He expected her to sit on the cot, to perhaps even collapse onto it as her exhaustion caught up to her. But, Embria did neither of those things.

She stepped up to stand before him, her gaze fixed on his mouth. She was so close, he could feel the heat from her body. She was always so warm. And she still wasn’t wearing any pants.

“Embria.” Her name was hardly a whisper off his tongue. He felt transfixed, rooted in place with nowhere to run. No desire to run.

She lifted her hand and traced her index finger along his bottom lip. “I never noticed this scar before,” she said. There was no heat in her voice, no intent. She sounded in awe of the the little echo of the slice on his lip. He’d bore it for so long he didn’t even remember how he’d got it. 

Maker, he was trembling. A deliciously vicious mix of anticipation, worry, and lust rattled through him. He needed to stop her, now. 

“Rook,” he said, his voice low and sharp.

She blinked and looked up at him. Her eyes went wide and she drew her hand back from his face. “Oh! Oh no. Lucanis, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean–”

“It’s all right,” he said. “Just–” he exhaled. “Just drink this–” he handed her the glass of water “–then lay down.”

She took the glass and sat on the cot. She took careful sips until the cup was empty. He took it from her, refilled it, and left it on the table within her reach. She let down her hair from its usual half-up, half-down bun, running her fingers through it and sighing. Her tunic lifted dangerously with the motion, baring just a little more of her thighs.

Lucanis cursed under his breath and shook his head. This night was going to be a special brand of torture. Then he helped her slide under the blankets and settle in to rest. 

He crouched beside the cot to look her in the eye. “If you start to feel sick, there’s a bucket right here,” he said. 

She scrunched her nose at the idea, but nodded. “Thank you.”

He smiled at her and brushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. “I’m happy to care for you,” he said. And it was the truth. This wasn’t how he’d expected this evening to go, but he was happy to share it with her regardless. “Now, sleep,” he said. “You should feel better when you wake up.”

He stood and made to go, but she took his hand in hers. “Will you lay down with me?” She whispered, as if she was afraid to ask. She winced. “Just until I fall asleep?”

Lucanis sighed. He knew he shouldn’t. His self-control had already been put to the test tonight, but her eyes were heavy with sleep and glimmered in the candlelight. He knew he could never tell her no.

He blew out some of the candles, dimming the light in the room, and quickly changed from his leathers into his usual shirt and slacks. He skipped the vest and boots, then he climbed onto the cot behind her, his back to the wall. 

It was a small, uncomfortable cot when he was alone. Sharing it with Rook was an improvement, even with the blanket firmly between them, but there was no way to lay together without his front pressed to her back. They lay curled together, her under the blankets while he stayed on top of them, and Lucanis marveled at how naturally his body fit around hers.

It would be such an easy thing to bury his face in her hair, to press a gentle kiss to the back of her neck. He wanted to, just as he wanted to wrap his arm around her waist and breathe her in. Lucanis had not shared a bed with someone since he and Illario were boys. He’d forgotten how comforting it could be, knowing he wasn’t alone.

 She was so warm, even through the blanket, and the rhythm of her breathing was as soothing as the sound of water lapping in the canals back home. In the quiet, half-dark of the pantry, Lucanis listened to Embria breathe, and imagined a lifetime of nights of just that. He smiled at the thought, and it didn’t take long for him to doze. 

He didn’t know how long they’d laid there, if he’d even really fallen asleep, when she moaned. Instantly, he was awake and alert.

She moaned again, lurched, and then heaved over the side of the cot and into the bucket. 

He sat up and swept her hair back from her face as she heaved again. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, something he remembered his mother doing when he’d been sick as a boy. He didn’t know if it actually helped ease the sickness, but he knew it felt good. 

It took a few moments, and Rook’s retching was not quick or efficient – each heave seemed to take tremendous effort – but eventually, the sickness passed. She lay panting, her face hanging off the cot, over the bucket as she spat the last of the sick from her mouth. 

“Fuck,” she groaned. She rolled onto her back, one bare leg off the cot with her foot firmly planted on the floor. 

Lucanis reached over her for the glass of water. “Here,” he said. “Little sips,” he reminded her as she took it. He watched her take a few swallows, then took it back and set it down. Then he wrung the washcloth out into the bowl, and laid it across her forehead. 

She sighed. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“How’re you feeling?” Her whole body quivered from the exertion of expelling Davrin’s terrible tea, but her voice sounded clearer. More like herself.

“Uh,” she said. “Better? I’m not seeing things anymore.” She blinked, then frowned at him. “We’re lying in your bed.”

He smirked. “Don’t worry, Rook,” he said. “I’ve been a perfect gentleman.”

She snorted. “Of course you have,” she said. “I’m more worried I haven’t been very ladylike.” She shifted under the blankets, then froze, her eyes going wide. “Lucanis?”

“Embria.”

“Where are my pants?”

His smile widened. “Somewhere by the coffee beans.”

She glanced around, then put a hand to her head. “What the fuck was in that tea?”

He frowned. “How much do you remember?”

She scowled, but wouldn’t look at him. After a moment she said, “all of it.”  She covered her face with both hands. “Lucanis, I am so sorry.” She made to get up, but he pressed her shoulder back down. 

“You need to rest,” he said. 

But, she wasn’t listening. “You asked for slow and a week later I’m half-naked in your bed? Puking?! What is wrong with me?!”

“Rook,” he said, again using that low, sharp tone.

She looked at him, her eyes wide and her brow pulled low with concern. 

“Enough,” he said. “Let’s go back to sleep.” He removed the washcloth from her forehead, setting it back in the bowl. 

She watched him, her eyes shining in the candlelight. “Okay,” she whispered. She rolled away from him, onto her side with her back pressed flush against his front. 

This time, Lucanis brushed the hair away from her face and pressed a gentle kiss to the crook of her neck. This time, he let his arm drape over her waist and she laced her fingers through his over her stomach. This time, it was perfection 

“Goodnight, Embria,” he whispered against her neck. 

“Goodnight, Lucanis.” Her voice was thick, but he couldn’t tell if it was sleep or emotion that made it so. Either way, he pulled her closer, breathed in that smoky-sweet scent of her hair, and smiled. Sleep came quickly after that, for them both. 

Sniiiiiifff. Faint stink of sour dirt. Sick. Poison. Gone. Now, smoke and berries. Salt and coffee. Together. Rook is soft. So soft. Hair between fingers, against his face. Our face. Smells good. Smells nice. Like FREEDOM. Like home.

Hmmmmm. Take care. Never hurt. Our Rook. 

Rook sleeps. Lucanis sleeps. Spite rests and will watch. 

Always. Take care of. Our Rook.

[xoxorealitygalore]

Trust and Believe VIII

summary: Keyshia and Joe had a seemingly perfect life together after marrying in 2010. However, as their careers grew, so did the strain on their relationship. When Joe cheats on Keyshia. The emotional fallout from the incident leaves their relationship hanging in the balance, with Keyshia questioning if they could ever recover from the betrayal.

Keyshia Anoa’i Spotted at Miami Recording Studio

Grammy-winning singer Keyshia Anoa’i was spotted heading into a recording studio in Miami on Saturday morning.

The R&B icon was seen arriving at the studio in the early hours, dressed in a sleek floor-length black coat with red hearts all over it, paired with black lounge attire, a bucket hat, and a stylish Birkin handbag. Her casual yet fashionable look drew attention, especially as she stepped into the studio building.

Keyshia had never been one for surprises. At least, not ones that caught her off guard in such a profound way. The recording studio was the one place where she felt in control of everything. Her voice, her creativity, her emotions. But this time, the air felt different.

It was heavy with a mix of exhaustion and anticipation, the weight of finishing her tenth album hanging over her like a cloud. She’d spent countless hours in that studio, lost in melodies and lyrics, trying to capture something raw, something real.

But today, she was tired. Her body had long ago given up on rest, the demands of her label, the pressure of deadlines, and the constant buzz of public expectation had worn her thin. She missed her kids. She missed Joe.

As the final notes of the track they’d been working on reverberated through the speakers, Keyshia sighed deeply. The music had come together, but there was still something missing. Maybe it was just her. Maybe she needed more than just success; she needed peace.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall. Almost six in the morning.

Keyshia’s eyes flicked toward the door just as it opened, and she froze. Standing there, silhouetted by the dim light, was Joe. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not today. She was too stressed out to think about what was happening with their marriage.

They’d talked about their marriage. They’d agreed they needed to fix things, to rebuild what had been broken, but this? This felt unexpected. Joe had never been the type to just show up at her studio sessions. That had been one of the things that had faded away over time, like so many other small gestures that used to matter, small moments they shared that slowly slipped away without them even realizing it.

She blinked, staring at him, trying to make sense of it. When was the last time he’d shown up for her like this? The thought nagged at her for a moment. Then it hit her. When did they stop being there for each other long before things went south? She couldn’t excuse his actions, couldn’t forget the betrayal, but in this moment, she understood something about them that she hadn’t fully grasped before: they’d stopped showing up for each other.

Keyshia shook her head slightly, pushing those thoughts away as she walked out of the booth and gestured for her producers to leave the room. It was only then that she realized how long it had been since she had been truly alone with Joe.

"Hey," she said softly, standing in front of him. He seemed a little nervous, a little uncertain, but his eyes never left hers. He held out a breakfast platter from Waffle House.

Keyshia blinked, caught off guard by the gesture.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the food, though her mind was elsewhere. She glanced at the clock again.

"What are you doing here, Joe?" she asked, her voice quiet but laced with confusion. "Is everything okay with the kids? Where are they?"

Joe smiled, a small, reassuring gesture, but his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.

"The kids are fine. They’re with my mom. I just… wanted to check up on you."

Keyshia nodded, her heart softening slightly. It was rare for Joe to be so thoughtful, so direct in his intentions. But the smile faded quickly, replaced by a knot of anxiety in her stomach.

"Okay," she replied, her voice distant as she sat down. She picked at her food, though the question still lingered in the air between them. What was Joe really doing here?

After a few moments, Joe broke the silence. "How’s the album coming along?"

"Almost done," Keyshia answered, though she didn’t quite feel the satisfaction of finishing it. She didn’t feel anything, really, but tired. "It’s coming together. Sooner than expected."

Joe nodded, but there was something in his expression, a quiet determination that made Keyshia look up from her food.

"Do you think you could leave right now?" he asked, his voice steady, but with an edge of urgency she hadn’t expected.

"Where do you want to go?" Keyshia asked, curiosity piquing in her voice.

Joe didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stood up, and she followed his lead, calling her producers back into the room to inform them that she would be leaving for the day. The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she couldn’t quite find the words to protest. Something about Joe’s presence now felt different like an unspoken promise, even if it was just a fleeting moment. Maybe they weren’t lost entirely.

Joe led her out of the recording studio, and they climbed into his car, the silence between them filling the space in ways that words never could. As the car made its way through the streets of Miami, Keyshia’s mind wandered, but it was a struggle to focus. There was too much on her plate, too much weighing her down.

"Where are we going, Joe?" she asked again, unable to keep the questions bottled up.

"You’ll see," Joe replied, his voice calm, but there was an unspoken anticipation there, a feeling of something changing. She could sense it, even if she didn’t quite understand it.

Minutes passed, and soon they were entering a gated community. Keyshia frowned, her thoughts racing. What was going on? Why did Joe want to bring her here? Her confusion only grew when they pulled into the driveway of a massive, pristine house that almost seemed to shimmer in the soft morning light. It was… well, it was something else entirely.

She turned to Joe, her voice low with disbelief. "Why are we here?"

Joe took a deep breath, his hand resting on the door handle as he looked at her, the weight of the moment pressing in on both of them.

"I sold the penthouse," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "I realized it was part of our problem. The penthouse, the things, the stuff that didn’t matter… I thought it would fix things, but it didn’t. So I bought this house for us. The house you wanted in the first place. The one I was too stubborn to get."

Keyshia’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the house, her mind struggling to process the enormity of the gesture. It was everything she had dreamed of, everything she had imagined, a vast, modern masterpiece perched on the edge of Miami Beach, offering sweeping views of the open bay, the skyline, and everything in between. It was stunning. It was breathtaking.

But it was also a commitment. A commitment to something bigger than just a house. It was a statement. A promise that Joe wanted a fresh start. A clean slate.

They got out of the car, and Joe unlocked the front door, inviting Keyshia into the house. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. The space was beyond anything she could have ever envisioned.

The walls seemed to pulse with possibilities. The entire home was a work of art. From the sprawling 10 bedrooms and 11.5 baths to the fully automated smart systems that controlled everything from the lights to the temperature, it felt like stepping into another world. The high ceilings, the wide-open spaces, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offered endless views of the bay. It was all too much.

Joe gave her a tour, showing her the staff suite, the luxurious chef’s kitchen, and the massive master bedroom. She followed him numbly, her thoughts in a whirlwind, trying to come to terms with what was happening. She could see the changes Joe had made, the effort he had put into creating something that felt like home.

Finally, they reached the backyard, and Keyshia stepped out onto the patio. The view was nothing short of mesmerizing, the open bay stretched out before her, the water reflecting the glow of the fading dawn. Joe stood beside her, waiting for her response.

"So?" Joe asked, his voice soft but filled with hope. "What do you think?"

Keyshia looked out at the horizon, her heart a mix of emotions. She loved the house, but the magnitude of what it represented was overwhelming. The house was a symbol of everything they had, everything they could have, but also a reminder of everything they had lost.

"I love it," she said, her voice uncertain. "But… Joe, this is a huge commitment. We’re still working through things. This house… feels like so much more than just a house. It feels like… it feels like it’s supposed to fix us."

Joe turned to her, his expression softening. "I don’t expect it to fix us. But maybe it’s a start. A fresh start. Something that feels right. For us. For our family."

Keyshia felt a pang in her chest. A fresh start. That was all she’d ever wanted. But could this house really be the answer to everything? Could this be the first step toward healing, or would it just be another reminder of all the things they had yet to rebuild?

She didn’t know. Not yet. Sometimes, fresh starts don’t come with all the answers.

They came with a leap of faith.

The air in the therapist’s office felt thick, a kind of charged silence hanging over Keyshia and Joe as they sat across from Dr. Malin, their newest therapist.

Keyshia swallowed, glancing at Joe before looking down at her hands. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for anymore. She wasn’t even sure she knew who she was anymore.

She had always prided herself on being a strong, independent woman who knew her worth and would never tolerate betrayal. But now, as she sat across from Joe and their new therapist, she felt torn in ways she had never imagined possible.

The weight of everything they had been through hung in the air. The long hours spent in silence, the shouting matches, the endless questions that had no clear answers, and the steady, painful unraveling of what they once had. Keyshia was terrified. Not just of losing Joe, but of losing herself.

The therapist, a middle-aged woman with soft eyes and a calm demeanor, had been recommended by their previous counselor, a person who had been there when things started to fall apart, and now, perhaps, someone who could help them rebuild. But as Keyshia sat there, her fingers gripping the arms of the chair, she felt unsure of the path ahead. Every word that left her mouth felt like an admission of weakness, like she was betraying her own strength, her own identity.

She had always been the woman who walked away. The one who didn’t tolerate disrespect. The one who set boundaries and never let anyone cross them. But here she was, sitting in front of a stranger, discussing the most intimate, painful part of her life: Joe’s betrayal. And instead of walking away, she was still sitting here, trying to make sense of it all.

"Keyshia," the therapist said gently, her voice a soft anchor in the storm of thoughts swirling in Keyshia’s mind, "can you tell me what you’re feeling right now?"

Keyshia took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, her gaze dropping to her hands. The space between her thoughts seemed infinite. She had to be honest with herself, but the truth felt like a weight too heavy to bear.

"I’m... struggling," Keyshia began, her voice quiet but steady. "I don't know how to feel. Part of me wants to walk away, but part of me still wants to make this work. I’m torn between what I stand for and what I want. It’s... it’s an inner battle."

She looked up at the therapist, her eyes filled with frustration and pain. "I’ve always prided myself on being the woman who doesn’t put up with shit. You know? I’ve always been the one who would walk away if someone disrespected me. But now... I don’t know if I’m being weak by staying or strong for trying to fight for my family."

The therapist nodded thoughtfully, her gaze never wavering from Keyshia. "It sounds like you're facing a deep internal conflict. You want to protect your sense of self, but you also want to protect your family and your marriage. That’s a difficult place to be."

Keyshia nodded, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Yeah, and I thought I knew who I was. But now, I feel like I’m betraying everything I thought I stood for."

Joe shifted uncomfortably beside her, his eyes locked on the floor. He had been quiet for most of the session, his fingers tapping nervously against the armrest of his chair. He hated seeing Keyshia like this, but he knew he had to own up to his mistakes. He had to explain himself, no matter how hard it was.

The therapist turned her attention to Joe, her voice kind but firm. "Joe, we’ve heard from Keyshia about her struggles, but I’d like to hear from you. Can you tell me why you cheated?"

Joe looked up, his face tense with shame. He hadn’t been prepared for this moment, but he knew it was coming. He had to answer. There was no running from the truth anymore.

"I... I cheated because I was selfish," Joe admitted, his voice thick with regret. "I wasn’t thinking about Keyshia, or our family, or the consequences of my actions. I was just thinking about myself. What I wanted. What I needed. It was a terrible, selfish mistake."

Keyshia’s heart tightened in her chest as she listened to his words. She had heard them before, but hearing them again didn’t make them any easier to swallow. There was a part of her that wanted to scream at him, to accuse him of being heartless. But another part of her, the part that still loved him, that still wanted their family to work, understood that it wasn’t as simple as just anger or betrayal.

Joe continued, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. "I regretted it the moment it happened. And every day since then, I’ve been ashamed of myself. I hurt her. I hurt the person I love most in this world. And I can never take that back."

The therapist listened quietly, allowing Joe the space to speak. There was no judgment in her gaze, only the soft presence of someone who had heard stories like this before. Her role wasn’t to condemn or absolve, but to help them unpack the layers of pain and misunderstanding that had accumulated between them.

Joe's eyes never left Keyshia’s face as he spoke. He could see the pain there, the cracks that had appeared in her once unbreakable resolve. And it tore him apart. He wished he could take it all back, undo every moment that had led them to this point, but he couldn’t. All he could do was try, every day, to prove to her that he was worth the second chance.

Keyshia stayed silent for a long moment, her thoughts whirling. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust that he was genuinely remorseful. But the pain of his betrayal, of the lies, the secrets, the woman he had slept with was still fresh in her heart. She wanted to forgive him. She wanted to believe that they could move forward, but something inside of her, some primal part of her was terrified.

"I started drinking more," she finally said, her voice soft but matter-of-fact. "It didn’t get out of hand, but it was my way of numbing everything. Of shutting it all out, you know? But I stopped before it got too far. I can’t afford to make any more mistakes. I’ve already been to jail for beating up the woman you cheated with. I don’t want anything else on my record."

The therapist nodded again, her eyes filled with understanding. "It sounds like you're carrying a lot of weight, Keyshia. And it’s not just the betrayal you’re dealing with, but also the fear of losing control. You’re trying to protect yourself, your family, and your reputation. But it's also clear that you're struggling with how to move forward. There’s a lot of emotional turmoil here."

Keyshia nodded, swallowing hard. "I just don’t know how to forgive him. How do I get past the hurt? How do I get past the fact that he... he chose someone else?" Her voice broke on the last word, and she wiped away a stray tear, trying to hold it together. "I’m just... so scared. What if I can’t ever trust him again? What if this is the beginning of the end?"

Joe’s eyes filled with tears, and he reached for her hand. "I don’t have all the answers, Keyshia. I don’t. But I’m here. I’m here, and I want to work through this with you. I want us to heal. I love you. I know I’ve hurt you, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it right."

Keyshia met his gaze, her heart a confusing mix of emotions. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that he was truly remorseful and that they could heal together. But the fear of being hurt again, of opening herself up to him only to be let down, felt like an impossible mountain to climb.

The therapist looked at them both, her voice gentle but firm. "It’s clear that both of you want this to work. But healing takes time. Trust has to be rebuilt, and that doesn’t happen overnight. You both have to be patient with each other and with yourselves. It’s not easy, but it is possible. You have to keep communicating, keep showing up for each other. It’s going to be hard, but if you’re both willing to put in the effort, you can start to rebuild what’s been broken."

Joe squeezed Keyshia’s hand, his grip steady. "I’m in this. For real. Whatever it takes."

Keyshia met his gaze, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She wasn’t sure where this journey would lead. But as she looked at Joe, his tears, his vulnerability, his desperation to make things right, something stirred inside her. Maybe they didn’t have all the answers. Maybe they didn’t know exactly how to heal yet. But there was one thing she did know: they weren’t done. Not yet.

The session lasted for hours, each moment filled with pain, regret, and raw emotion. But as the clock ticked on and the sun began to dip lower outside, there was a quiet, fragile sense of hope between them.

keyshiaanoai 1h

The evening air in Miami was humid but warm, the kind of evening that felt both comforting and suffocating in its weight. The glow of the city’s skyline mirrored the restless energy inside Keyshia. She sat across from Joe at a dimly lit, trendy restaurant by the water, her fingers lightly tapping on her glass as the silence between them stretched a little longer than either of them anticipated.

They had just finished their therapy session, the rawness of the conversation still hanging between them. Keyshia’s mind was a whirl of emotions, confusion, anger, exhaustion, but also the smallest flicker of hope. She wasn’t sure what she expected out of tonight, but a quiet dinner seemed like as good a way as any to unwind, to talk more if they needed to, or maybe just to be together without the weight of their history pressing in on them. But now, with every passing minute, the unease was creeping back in.

Joe, seemingly still processing the session, wasn’t speaking much either. His hands rested on the table, his gaze distant. He had apologized again, promised to do better, but Keyshia couldn’t shake the feeling that their lives were being pulled in different directions. Her thoughts circled back to the things they’d said in therapy, about forgiveness, about the future and every time she thought about it, the questions mounted in her mind. Could she really forgive him? Was she ready to move forward, to let go of the past and rebuild their family?

The waiter arrived, setting down their plates with a soft smile, but Keyshia hardly noticed. She barely touched her food, not because she wasn’t hungry but because something felt off.

Joe noticed too. His eyes flicked from his plate to her face, studying her for a moment. “You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice soft, trying to gauge her mood without pressing too much.

Keyshia looked at him, her eyes searching his face as if trying to make sense of everything. “Yeah,” she said, though she didn’t feel it. She wasn’t sure if she could pinpoint exactly what was bothering her, but she couldn’t shake the tension in her chest. “Just... tired, I guess.”

Joe nodded, though he clearly wasn’t convinced. Before he could respond, Keyshia’s gaze shifted to the entrance of the restaurant. Her heart froze in her chest. The world seemed to slow down as a familiar face appeared in the doorway.

It was Tyson.

Her ex-boyfriend. The one she had been with before Joe, the one she thought she’d marry before everything had fallen apart. The one who had left her heartbroken in ways she hadn’t even fully understood until years later, when Joe came into her life and showed her what real love could look like. Tyson had been a part of her past, a chapter she had closed, one she never thought she’d have to revisit.

But here he was, standing in the doorway, and he wasn’t alone.

Tyson was with her.

The woman. The one Joe had cheated on her with. The one whose name had burned into Keyshia’s mind like a scar since she found out about the affair. Her eyes narrowed instinctively, her chest tightening. The woman who had played a role in tearing apart everything Keyshia had worked for, the woman who had become the face of the betrayal.

Keyshia’s stomach churned with a mixture of anger and disbelief. She could feel her blood start to simmer beneath her skin, the old feelings rising like a tidal wave, ready to crash over her. For a split second, she wondered if it was some twisted coincidence, but as Tyson laughed and the woman smiled up at him with that too-familiar affection, there was no denying the reality.

Joe followed her gaze, and the tension in his shoulders stiffened. He didn’t need to ask; he could see it in her eyes. Her face flushed with a mix of rage and humiliation. She could feel the heat of their presence like a physical weight pressing on her chest, suffocating her. It was too much, all of it—the therapy, the rawness of their conversation, the cracks in their marriage and now this.

She wanted to get up, leave, and pretend this moment wasn’t happening, but the feeling of betrayal was too strong. It wasn’t just about Joe anymore. It was about everything, about her dignity, her self-respect, the promise she’d made to herself that she would never, never let anyone make her feel small again.

Without thinking, without even looking at Joe, Keyshia pushed her chair back. The sound of it scraping against the floor felt like a warning shot to the room.

"Keyshia—" Joe’s voice was tentative, but she didn’t wait. She stood up abruptly, the sharpness of her movements causing a few heads to turn. She didn’t even glance back at him. She couldn’t. She needed to escape. She needed air.

She walked briskly past the table, her heart hammering in her chest. The clinking of glasses, the chatter of other patrons, it all felt distant, like she was submerged underwater. Her breath came quick and shallow as she reached the exit.

“Keyshia, wait!” Joe called after her, his voice strained, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop.

She was already outside the restaurant, stepping into the humid Miami night. The sound of the door swinging closed behind her echoed in her ears, but she didn’t look back.

Keyshia’s mind was a whirlwind as she walked down the sidewalk, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement. Her hands trembled slightly, but she forced herself to stay steady. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she couldn’t be near that scene any longer. The sight of Tyson and the woman had pushed her to her breaking point.

Her breath came in ragged bursts, her heart pounding in her chest. How was it possible that after everything she’d been through with Joe, after everything they’d said in therapy, after all the pain and the hope, she was still here, haunted by ghosts of the past?

She didn’t want to feel this way anymore. She didn’t want to carry this anger. She didn’t want to feel like the victim in her own story. But right now, with the weight of Marcus and the woman pressing on her, she couldn’t help it. The past wasn’t just haunting her, it was suffocating her. And for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t sure if she could bear it anymore.

She was halfway down the block when she heard footsteps behind her. Joe. Of course, it was him. She hadn’t expected anything different.

“Keyshia, please.” His voice was softer now, more pleading. His breath was labored, as if he’d been running to catch up to her. “You don’t have to do this. Please, let’s just talk.”

She stopped but didn’t turn to face him. She didn’t want to see him. She couldn’t. “I don’t need to talk right now, Joe. I need space. I need air. I need to think.”

“Please, don’t shut me out,” Joe said, his voice cracking slightly. “I know I’ve messed up, but I’m here, I’m trying. I’m sorry. I just—” He trailed off, clearly struggling to find the words.

Keyshia finally turned to face him, her eyes cold, her expression unreadable. “You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice was low but laced with a pain she hadn’t fully realized she’d been carrying. “I’m not just angry at you. I’m angry at me. I’m angry that I’ve let myself stay in this mess. That I’ve let myself be made to feel like I’m not enough. That I let you make me feel small. I’m angry that every time I think I’m over it, it’s like I’m hit with a wave that knocks me back down.”

Joe took a step toward her, his eyes filled with remorse, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Joe. I really don’t. But I need to get away from this for a while. I can’t… I can’t keep doing this.”

Without waiting for him to respond, Keyshia turned and walked away, her pace quickening as she put more distance between herself and the restaurant, more distance between herself and everything that had hurt her. She didn’t know what the future held, or if she could truly forgive Joe. But for now, she needed to be alone.

She needed to breathe. To remember who she was before the chaos of it all swept her under.

[formula-ghost]

Small Oscar comfort drabble below the cut because I’m lonely, depressed, and need to be held:

The first thing you noticed when you walked in the door was the smell of something warm and fragrant simmering in a pot on the stove of your shared apartment. Oscar stood in the kitchen stirring the pot’s contents before carefully placing the lid on top and turning down the heat, exiting the kitchen to come and greet you, his girlfriend, after a long day.

You had texted him earlier that day wanting that it had been a rough one. Usually the sound of a simmering dish in the midst of cooking brought you all the comfort you need; the warm food, infused with the love of your boyfriend, was all you needed to de-stress after a texting day or God knows what.

But not today. Even a hand prepared 5 Michelin star meal wouldn’t help.

Oscar didn’t know that, though. He threw a hand towel over his shoulder and you slumped your bag into the couch, letting it flop onto the cushion and land awkwardly. You didn’t even acknowledge him, instead going straight back to your bedroom to undress.

Oscar wasn’t the type to back down, though. He followed you as you tried to take off your jacket and shoes, only to get your foot stuck in the complicated lacing of your boot. Though you tugged it wouldn’t budge.

That was the last straw. You collapsed on the bed and let out a frustrated grunt that turned into tears.

“Baby,” Oscar said, “let me.” He kneeled down and gently touched your leg, pulling his fingers at the laces to loosen them before removing the shoe. You sniffled in silence as he removed the other as well.

“Thank you,” you whispered, running your fingers through his soft brown curls as he stayed knelt before you.

“That bad, huh?” he said, giving you a sad smile. You were already holding back tears, and his comment released the floodgates.

You let out a pained gasp as you tried and failed to hold in your emotion. Oscar just wordlessly sat next to you and bundled you up in his arms. You were enveloped in his strong muscles, comforted by the soft fabric of his hoodie and the familiar scene of his cologne. He ran his hands up and down your back, softly murmuring to you. “It’s okay,” he said, “I’m here, it’s alright, let it all out.”

You felt as feeble as a child. Maybe tomorrow morning you’d be embarrassed by your vulnerability. But right now this was the only place you felt safe, like nothing in the world could get to you. You buried your head deeper into his chest, sobbing against him until you had no more tears left within you.

He kept rubbing gentle circles into your back until you finally slowed down, your wails now reduced to soft sniffles and a pounding headache. “I’m sorry,” you said, reaching up to wipe away your tears.

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “This is what I’m here for.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Then don’t think about it. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you,” you said, the tears welling back up at Oscar’s tenderness with you.

“I love you too,” he replied, reaching out to wipe away your tears and kiss your cheek. “This seems like more than just a bad day, babe.”

You looked away, embarrassed to admit that he was right. “It’s getting bad again.”

He gently cupped your chin to force you to make eye contact with him. “Talk to me. I’m here to listen.”

“I just… I’m so scared. Everything in the world is awful. I’m angry at everyone, and I’m tired all the time, and I don’t see any hope for the future. I feel so alone. I know that I’m not,” you said, looking up at him, “I know I’m not alone, But I feel like I am. And I’m scared that at any second I could lose everything.”

“Oh, love,” Oscar said, running his hands through your hair, “that’s a heavy burden to carry.”

If you had any tears left in you, they would have come bursting through in that moment. You loved Oscar for this very reason; he listened, he tried to understand, he didn’t tell you that your feelings were wrong.

He continued, “You don’t have to be strong all the time. And I don’t care how bad it is, I am always gonna be here with you. We get through the bad times together, okay?”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do. Because you’re kind and funny and beautiful and the strongest woman I know.” He rested his hands around your waist. “But you don’t have to go through this alone. Never again.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, a silent signal that his words were more than just words. And here, skin to skin with the love of your life, you let yourself believe, even if just for a moment, that he was right. You would never be alone again, and everything would be okay.

“Why don’t we go get the food, yeah? Have some dinner and a cuddle?”

You silently nodded, exhausted from your crying. You didn’t need words anymore to communicate. You knew your heart had found a safe home.

[theartsynebulawhodoodles]

Killer Sans and Color Sans Head-Canons

[Angst, Themes regarding mental health struggles and sensory sensitivity]

Color has naturally shaky hands and can’t handle some textures. It makes them sad and frustrated quite often. But with their shaky hands, they began to make art with shakier lines. Seeing the beauty of it made them feel better about their shaky hands. And using softer paper with less smoothness feels better for them.

Color has issues with their back being touched due to sensory sensitivity. Each touch feels extremely uncomfortable to the point of painful.

Color can’t handle loud noises often and it stresses them out, so they carry around noise cancelling headphones just in case.

Killer doesn’t like to show his chest without a top on, as his ribcage has damage to it and he feels ashamed of it.

Killer is not the best at handling embarrassment. It overwhelms him and makes him too ashamed to show himself again. Even if it was just a silly accident that isn’t a big deal. It makes him feel so small and stupid.

Killer, despite how he shows himself, is quite sensitive and experiences stress and anxiety often. He stresses over things others don’t see or see as something to stress over and it makes him feel insignificant.

Killer goes through periods of depression that can range from weeks to months. During those times he can’t do the things he likes, and it’s hard for him to go through a single day without having a moment of spiraling through negative thoughts.

[Dividers belong to either sister Lucifer or dividers that were reblog/like to use or free to use, killer sans belongs to Rahafwabas, color sans belongs to superyoumna]

[xotoru]

Hey!!! I was listening to a song and felt sad, so i was wondering if you could write any character's reaction to y/n singing to a knee dropping, sliding down a wall type of song (f.x. 'y si fuera ella' by Jonghyun 🙏🏼)

( im literally crying while typing this because I'm listening to it)

you could make it fluff or angst it doesn't matter, your writing is always good 🤭🫶🏼

Sorry for rambling too much 😅

thank you nonie for giving me an excuse to write about my shitty music taste <3

Angelic Voice

Synopsis:req!

Warnings: Gn!reader, mentions of stress and depression, angsty, not that well proofread, 2.3k wrds

Who: Shoot.T - Hanta.S - Hitoshi.S

I am waiting, I have been waiting

Shoto heard you sing lightly under your breath from where you sat at your desk.he never really heard you sing so it was a bit of a surprise to him to hear this.you were completely oblivious to his intense stares at the back of you as you worked on some paper you had to finish soon. it was almost like your voice was keeping his eyes laser focused on you. He did this often, just kind of staring at you when you didn't realize.

I was born waiting, For that something...Just one something

you guys didn’t listen to the same music by any means but from being around you so often he recognized the song after a bit. it was one of your favorites.as soon as he realized that he also came to the conclusion that it was an extremely sad song. Were you sad? Did something happen? Were you upset and he didn’t notice? a million questions ran through his head as you continued singing from across the room at your desk.

There is a light in me, But only, It seems, When the dark surrounds me

he bit his lip in frustration as he tried to think of your day together.you guys had been out together all day so if anything did happen that would make you upset, it would’ve been because of him?he broke from his thoughts as you turned around to ask him something, a bit stunned to see him not only already staring at you but seemingly like he was trying to read every thought you had ever had.

“sorry what did you say?” he asked as he sat up on your bed.a bit more alert and aware of your facial expressions and what they may mean.

you notice the way his eyes narrow in focus just a bit, but brush it off quickly.chalking it up to just him being tired or something. “I said I'm done with my work, do you wanna watch a movie?” you asked as you spun around in your chair to fully face him. shutting the laptop with a sigh as you did so.

“yeah...yeah of course” he answered as he began to move over so you could sit with him on the bed. happily you did just that. plopping down on your soft bed and getting under the warm covers with ease. 

Eventually you guys picked a movie to watch. you were very much into the movie playing the screen but for some reason he couldn’t shake the thought that something was wrong with you. yea it was just you singing a song you liked, but even small things like that could easily bother him, especially when it came to you.

his arm was around your shoulder yet you were both silent. only the silence was abruptly cut short as his voice shot through the airy sound coming from your tv speakers. “Are you...happy?”. His words confused you more than the movie you were watching at the moment. you blinked a bit in confusion at his sudden question.

“Why- yes of course i'm happy.” you spoke reassuringly. You really had no idea what was going on inside his head at the moment but judging by how he kept scanning over every part of you that he could see, and how he bit his lip nervously before a word could even leave your lips, something was on his mind and weighing pretty heavy.

The rest of the movie passed by, the two of you now sat comfortably interlinked. his arm was snaked around your waist as he held you close while you scrolled through your phone mindlessly.you assumed he was watching along with you but he truly was in a different place. his overthinking clouding his tired mind. He wanted to think of a way to bring up earlier while still making sense.

“You're a good singer...” he mumbled into your hair.if the noise coming from your phone was even a single decibel higher you probably wouldn’t have been able to hear him. him being so stoic and indifferent most of the time made moments like this weirdly special for the both of you.

what he meant earlier finally clicked in your head. He thought you were sad because of the song you were singing along to while studying. anyone else would say that's a huge stretch and that if that was in fact the case then he's being dramatic. but knowing him for as long as you have and knowing his every thought and feeling inside out caused not a single alarm to go off in your head. only the one that made you blush at his comment

Hanta.S  Moon Song - Phoebe Bridgers

It had been a stressful week to say the least. a large villain had been running through the city for days and you guys had just managed to restrain him. you would normally sigh of relief the second you got home. But when you turn on the TV to see people criticizing you on the news for not handling the situation faster you feel as if you can’t escape any of it. nonetheless your boyfriend was even home to distract you, just you and your thoughts.

This was exactly how you found yourself heading over to the grocery store. hoping to get some stress out of your mind through baking, an old habit of yours that you had dropped once hero work piled up too much in order to keep it all under wraps. as you strolled through the isles and looked for things you assumed you didn’t have at home, you felt someone calling your hero name down the aisle.

a few more voices bloomed as the one began. you whipped your head up from the two different flours you had been inspecting. looking over to see a small crowd of people coming towards you. you slapped a smile on your face as they all started asking for autographs and pictures. yet in your head the whole time you're going. “please kill me”. it's not that you hated your fans or even taking pictures, but after the day you had you wanted to just get in and get out of the stuffy grocery store.

once you had taken what seemed like a million pictures and smiled till your face felt numb. you found yourself grabbing everything you thought you needed in a rush and booking it out the store once you had paid. The cashiers and people outside were definitely giving you strange looks but that really didn't matter to you.

a sense of relief and familiarity washed over you once you pulled into the driveway of your house. you noticed your boyfriend was now home but didn’t seem to mind too much. he was probably the only one you could be around at times like this and not scream.you came into the house exasperated. setting the full brown paper bags down the kitchen table with a sigh. your boyfriend in the living room picked his head up at the sound of you coming in the door.

he shouted a greeting at you from where he sat on the couch. you responded tiredly as you set all your ingredients down on the large counter of you guys apartment. ready to clear your mind and just bake like you used to. you quickly got to work.pulling out your old recipe book from under the cabinet and dusting it off before flipping to one of your favorites.

Hanta picked up on the sound of bowls clashing and batter being scraped even through the sound of his movie playing. He noticed you were baking because you always sang when you baked. He didn’t even think it was something you noticed yourself but he always had.

subtly he turned down the volume of the tv, wanting to hear you a bit. He hadn’t heard you sing for some time. you were so lost in your own world that you didn’t even realize the difference in volume from his movie suddenly. checking about a million times to make sure you had the right amount of baking soda in the small spoon.

But now, I am dreaming and your singing at my birthday

he hadn’t even noticed what song you were singing until he stopped to listen. If it was anything else he would just say that it was a song on your mind at the moment. but this was different. anytime you weren’t in the best headspace or just weren’t doing good overall, you would ask him to take you for a drive. and of course Hanta being the man he is, he always let you on aux whenever you were in his car. but it was only on these specific nights when you counted on it and wanted him to drive you, that would always be on the song you played.

And I've never seen you smiling so big

unbeknownst to yourself, the stress you had been feeling for the past few weeks was the exact reason you were singing this song. it was basically your “sad song”. your boyfriend sat on the living room couch, out of your view as your back was turned to him, grew beyond worried. as nonchalant and goofy he liked to act, in reality he was very worrisome when it came to you. any time you mentioned the slightest bit of pain or maybe we were just having a gloomy day, he was the first one to question every little detail about the issue. That's just how he was.

It's nautical themed and there's something I'm supposed to say

before he even knew it he was getting up from his spot on the couch. stepping into the kitchen quietly and planting himself behind you as he enveloped you in his arms. The sudden hug made you jolt a bit, but you quickly relaxed into his touch as you continued to decorate the cupcakes that had just come out of the oven. “keep singing. wan’ hear your voice” he said quietly. his head rested on your shoulder lazily as you obliged. singing lightly under your breath as you were just a moment ago.

And if I could give you the moon, I would give you the moon

his breath tickled your neck as you continued to pipe light pink and white frosting on the chocolate cupcakes in your hand. the rise and fall of his chest against your back felt so light, like a ghost.his delicate fingers tapped at the sides of your hips as his eyes gently closed. no matter how stressful things got or how terrible you were feeling, there would always be 2 things for you to fall on. your boyfriend and baking.

Hitoshi.S the child is gone - Fiona apple

you guys had been hanging out for the past few hours and it now got to that part in the hangout where you both just kind of sit there and listen to music. It was basically tradition for everytime you guys hung out at each other's houses. it was your turn to play the music this time and you just weren’t having the best day, so of course like anyone else you,d you put your sad playlist on.

you both sat on your bed in practical silence. just enjoying the comfort of one another. your head found its way to his braid shoulder tiredly.slouching down into the bed as his thumb ran over your hand which was intertwined with yours.

Darling give me your absence tonight

you sang under your breath. The silence of the room besides your ghostly voice and rhetoric light music coming from the speaker of your computer made it easy for the purple haired boy to hear you singing. He queried his brow as his head turned to face you ever so slightly, yet you acted like this was normal.

Take the shade from the canvas and leave me the white

Your voice sent a light blush to his pale cheeks. He Never really heard you sing and the sound of your soft gentle voice was making him want to only hear more.The sound of you talking, screaming, whispering or laughing was beyond music to his ears. Just the sheer sound of your honey dripping voice could soothe any sore throat he had. With this new found sound, he felt absolutely enamored with the situation.

Let me sink in the silence that echoes inside

The only source of light coming from the few lit candles around your room and the screen of your computer made everything all the more comfortable. both of your bodies sank into the mattress underneath you. you hadn’t even noticed the slight gaze on you as you sang or how it seemed his demeanor switched the second you opened your pretty lips.

And don’t bother leaving the light on...

“I like your singing,” he said quietly. his voice piercing through the silence while oh so hushed. if he had said it any quieter you were sure you soundly have heard it. your head turned to face him.lips now closed and singing paused while the song continued to fade into the background. you swear if his hand wasn’t holding yours like a lifeline you would have floated away. the softness of his voice as they fell into the tender air made you feel like you were sitting on cloud 9.

slowly you brought a hand to the cheek of his milky face.your fingers brushed over his face with such airily care.with a rushing sense of fervor you pulled him closer to you, pushing your lips against his soft ones. The kiss was tender. his lips moved against your slowly. almost as if he was scared of breaking you, treating you like a doll made of porcelain.

his hand moved to grab the underside of your thigh.the feeling of his fingers ghosting over a part of you that isn’t often touched sends shivers down your spine.his cold slender fingers bring goosebumps to the warm plush skin he taints with his hand.you sling a leg over his waist lazily as you deepen the kiss.one hand still rested on his cheek while the other is planted on his shoulder for support.you never would have been able to anticipate the sheer affect your angel-like sining would have on him.

I would just like to say I wrote the end of this while listening to euphoria by kendrick lamar. also sorry if shinso’ seems rushed, thats cause it is.

[quartergremlin]

2.5: saving the world

prev/next

[shadowed-yet-vibrant]

Wow turns out there's a reason every lawyer I'd ever met told me "don't be a lawyer."

[pxlpanic]

lil rant in the tags

will delete later jsbdjs

ps. didnt know there were max 30 tags wow

[suksatoru]

sukuna and you got into a fight after you had a near death experience. when you're in need of comfort—he's hostile and enraged. you're hurt tenfold and overcome with sadness after his outburst. going to bed after fighting with sukuna is a war all in itself–but one day, you'll be able to see just how hard he works to be a good lover to you. pairing: sukunaxfem!reader ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

Sukuna is silent as he changes, save for the quiet grunts and sighs that leave his lips every now and then. The dim lamp lit on his side of the bed creates shards of gold that glisten and shine in his eyes, and he regards you quietly as he slips out of his formal robes and into a simple pair of pants.

He could be so mean sometimes. You were never one to take his insults to heart, they were always empty words he muttered out to mask his true feelings. You know Sukuna is bad at communication, you are all he's had and ever will have. There was no one before you, and there will be no one after you. So, Sukuna has to learn to go through all the hard stages that come packaged with a relationship alongside you.

Your back is turned to him as you lay in bed, your body tense and shoved so far towards the edge of the bed, he's sure you'll fall off if you shift even just the slightest bit. You're so desperate to stay away from him, and a small part of Sukuna's chest squeezes painfully at the sight.

He doesn't know how the argument started—you were always so level headed. He could come to you fuming, enraged from his duties and the stress he has to endure everyday—but your fingers raking through the pink tufts of his hair never failed to calm him.

Except today.

Because today—today he was mad at you.

You didn't mean to upset him, those were the words that tumbled from your lips as you weeped into his lap—begging for forgiveness. Your lashes clumped together with glistening tears, and all you wanted was to be comforted by him. But Sukuna scolded you instead, berating and belittling you with the cruelest of words that only made you cry harder by the end of the entire ordeal. He wasn't mad, he was fucking furious.

He told you to stay away from his estate's river whenever it's raining. But you ventured outside anyways, mindlessly and stupidly and almost died. He warned you how strong the currents were, told you how he'd lost so many idiot servants to the river's ruthlessness.

He thought you had died. It was the single, most terrifying moment of his entire life. Because when he pulled you out of the water, you were shaking like a leaf and your pulse was barely there. And when they took you to the medical wing, the doctors were brought to near tears as they tried to keep you alive. Because if you died, if they couldn't bring you back to consciousness safely—then Sukuna would probably kill everyone in a mile radius just from pure rage.

But you're here. Stubborn and alive, arms crossed over your chest as you curl up into a little ball. He slides under the blanket eventually, turning off the lamp as darkness finally envelops his room. The rain still goes on quietly outside, pitter pattering against his window softly.

He presses his lips onto your shoulder blades, pulling your back against his chest and frowning a little once he feels how stiff you are in his grasp. He doesn't want to speak the words—doesn't even want to acknowledge them, but he knows he has to. Or your tear stricken face was sure to haunt him and keep him awake the entire night

His lips are rough against your skin, and you let out a huff—before elbowing him, the King of Curses, in the gut.

He sucks in a hiss from between his teeth, before biting down on your shoulder in retaliation as you yelp

"You bast–"

You're turning around to tell him off, brows scrunched together and lips pulled back in a wobbly scowl, and he takes the opportunity to shut you up when his lips collide with yours

You would have expected the kiss to be rough—angry and hard and mean. But his lips brush yours gently as you pause, before his warm mouth presses softly onto yours

Sorry. He mumbles the word quietly against your lips as he wraps a single arm around your waist, turning you around and over him before securing you on top of his chest with a deep sigh. His irises are lined with a ring of ruby, and you watch him gaze at you through half lidded eyes.

The moonlight barely illuminates his face, but you can see the sheen in his gaze as he peers up at you

Thought I lost you. He murmurs when you suck in a cry, and he rubs your back whispering I know, I know.

Ryomen Sukuna wasn't gentle, no one would describe him as gentle. But the manner he's rubbing your back in has you sinking into his skin as you soak up all the comfort he offered—the one you so desperately craved.

"It was so scary. I-I was just—" And you hiccup on a sob as he coos quietly, curling his large palm around the back of your head as he presses your face into his chest, mumbling sweet nothings into your hair as his hand rubs up and down the slope of your spine

" 'm here now. Rest, you're safe with me. You know that, don't you?" He questions, and you nod, sniffling as your small hands wrap around his neck, legs locking around his waist as you breathe him in.

No, he wasn't the best at managing his emotions. He was quick to anger, and, simply put, the biggest asshole to walk the earth. But he feels. He loves and he hurts and he knows that there is only one person who can accept him and his broken heart as it is—you.

[starkeysbunny]

something about you.

pairing - rafe cameron x kook!reader

summary - rafe and reader have been in a friends with benefits relationship for months now. it’s been slowly killing both of them, but they’re both too afraid to say anything. it gets to a point and rafe can’t take it anymore. he can’t stop thinking about you.

warnings - fluffy as hell literally throwing up it’s too sweet

my eyes were closed, my lips slightly parted as i let out a huff against my pillow. it was friday. rafe would usually text me on fridays. he’d ask me to come over, stressed out from work, a long week—whatever it was. i didn’t care.

he needed me.

it was friday, at eleven pm, radio silence. not a word from him. i felt a gnawing at my insides. this man had a grip on every fold of my brain. and we weren’t even together. it was pathetic. but i couldn’t stop.

if i couldn’t have more of him, i’d take this. being his for a couple hours a week. all his attention on me, like it was real. for a couple hours, i get to pretend it’s real.

i turn and stare at my ceiling, hoping i’ll hear my phone ping. i was getting tired. but if he texted, i’d go.

it’s pretty sad. i know. my friends have told me to get up, so many times. shake his hold. but i can’t. i’ll take any parts of him he’ll give me.

ping.

i practically fall over as i reach for my phone, frantically checking the notification.

rafe

hey.

hey? i huff, my head plopping against my pillow. another ping.

can you come over?

i stare at the message, taking a deep breath. it was nearly midnight. i should get up. i should say no. say i’m sick of the casual bullshit.

but soon, i find myself slipping my hoodie over my head, sliding into my uggs.

yeah.

is all i say. i didn’t need to say more. there was nothing more i could say. another ping.

i’ll pick you up. it’s late. don’t want you driving.

my eyebrows furrow. he’s gonna pick me up? he’s never done that.. it’s always the same routine. he texts me, i go over. and sometimes he makes me spend the night, whether i want to or not, because he doesn’t want me driving so late.

but he’s never picked me up.

i don’t say anything, heading to my living room and sitting on the couch in my empty apartment. i recently moved out of my parents, and i’d like to say it’s just a coincidence i moved into the complex only seven minutes from tannyhill.

it wasn’t.

my nails nervously pick at the hem of my hoodie as i wait. it was the longest seven minutes of my life. my mind kept racing. something about tonight felt different. he’s picking me up. and it’s so late. it’s usually never this late.

ping.

i’m here.

i swallow roughly and rub my eyes, standing up. i slide my phone into the pocket of my sleep shorts. the only sound in my quiet apartment is the shuffling of my slippers against the hardwood as i walk toward the door. i grab my keys and slide them into my other pocket, heading for the door. i lock it behind me and walk down the stairs, spotting the blaring headlights from rafe’s truck.

i walk towards it, shivering slightly from the cold air hitting my skin. i look up and see him get out, rounding the truck to the passenger side. he opens my door as i approach.

“hey.” i say softly.

he was in a hoodie and sweats, more relaxed from his usual appearance. which contained a white button up, usually unbuttoned by the time i see him, paired with some kind of dress pants.

“hey.” he whispers. his eyes drift down my appearance. “why’re you wearing shorts? it’s freezing, are you crazy?” he sighs, running a hand over his buzzed hair. his hand comes to the small of my back, not even allowing me to respond before he ushers me in his truck. he shuts the passenger door and rounds the vehicle again to his side.

he gets in, the engine humming as he starts it. he glances over at me and sighs, reaching his arm back to the backseat. he grabs a blanket, gently laying it out over my lap.

“nearly thirty fuckin’ degrees, and you’re sleepin’ in shorts.” he sighs, muttered under his breath.

i swallow roughly, looking down as his hands gently linger over the tops of my thighs as he lays down the blanket. “thanks.” i whisper.

“mhm.” he hums, his hands moving to grip the steering wheel as he peels out of the driveway.

the drive to his house was short, and quiet. the heater gently enveloped me, quickly changing my shivering form from earlier to warmth. my eyes stay looking out the window as i feel the occasional glances from rafe to my side. his eyes were like blades, puncturing into my skin at every glance with a sting.

i feel the truck come to a stop as we pull into the driveway. rafe had taken over tannyhill after his dad died, and sarah moved in with the pogues. so, it was always quiet here. sometimes i wonder if he brings anyone else over ever. or just me.

i watch as he gets out of the drivers seat, rounding the truck to my side. he sticks his hand out for me to grab as i step out of the truck. my hand fits in his warm palm, his hand cradling the small of my back as i step out.

i stand by his side as we walk up to the house. i look up at him, my eyes soft. “r-rafe..?”

“hm?” he hums as we approach the door, he fishes through his pockets for the keys.

“um.. are we…” i trail off.

he pauses as he finds the keys, his eyes flicking to me. his gaze runs over my face as he lets out a breath. “no.” he whispers.

so this was something else. i swallow roughly as i feel my stomach drop. was he ending things? i don’t say anything more and he opens the door, allowing me to walk in first

whenever i was in tannyhill, i felt out of place. it was a huge, beautiful mansion. but it carried a darkness to it. i could hardly imagine how rafe lived here alone. it would eat me up. just as i stand in the foyer, i feel small and inferior in the big space.

“hey.” he whispers. his voice snaps me out of my thoughts, his hand coming to the small of my back. i follow him as he guides me toward the living room. my eyes sift over the space and he guides us to a window seat, outfacing the backyard.

he sits and gestures his hand out for me to sit. i nervously pull my legs into my chest as i slip off my slippers.

“rafe.. why-why’d you text me?” i ask softly.

he leans back against the window with a soft sigh, his hand coming up to run over the stubble against his jaw. he chuckles softly, throwing his hands up. “been asking myself the same shit.” he sighs, looking over at me. he presses his lips together, his eyes wandering over me as he thinks. “i’ve been-“ he sighs. “i’ve been thinking.”

i furrow my eyebrows. “okay.. about..?” i ask softly.

he runs a hand over his face. “everything.” he whispers. “i-i’ve been really stressed.” he huffs. “cameron development, all that bullshit. i just have so much pressure on me, y’know?”

i nod gently. “yeah.” i whisper. “i-i get that. but rafe, you’re so much more than that.” sigh.

he chuckles, his tongue sticking to the inside of his cheek as he raises his eyebrows. he turns his gaze to look at me. “i appreciate that. you’re faith in me, i mean..” he trails off. “it’s nice. nobody else has it.”

my eyes narrow at him slightly. “well, i mean it, rafe.” i whisper softly, my hand gently coming to rest on his knee.

he looks down at my hand, letting out a sigh and leaning his head back against the window. he looks back at me, his gaze holding mine. but there’s something different about it this time. an intensity in his eyes i’d never seen before.

his hand comes to rest over my wrist, his thumb gently tracing in my skin. “y/n.. i-“ he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

my eyes blink up at him, my eyebrows knitted together softly. “yeah..?” i whisper.

he’s hesitant. like whatever he wants to say is stuck in a knot in his throat. he takes a deep breath, searching for the words. he swallows roughly. “look, i-i know i’m no good for you.” he whispers. “but there’s.. there’s somethin’ about you, just can’t fuckin’ get you outta my head.” he sighs and pauses before speaking his next words.

“i-i want us to be.. more. than just this. i-i can’t stop thinking about you, y/n.”

my stomach drops. my eyes widen slightly and my lips part. “i- what..?” i whisper, stunned.

he presses his lips together and i see the nerves bubble in his eyes. “i-i know we agreed to be friends with benefits and nothin’ more but-“ he runs his hand over his buzzed head, a satire chuckle escaping his lips. “i can’t fuckin’ do this shit, okay? i-i can’t keep texting you just to fuck and pretending you don’t mean fuckin’ everything to me. i can’t stand the thought of you being with other people i-“ he huffs, leaning back.

“‘m fucking obsessed with you, alright?” he whispers.

my eyes blink slowly, my lips parting. i couldn’t believe it. he felt the same way i did? every time he’d hold me after we’d hook up, a part of me hurt inside. knowing it was temporary. knowing, that i’d never really have him.

and that whole time—he was thinking the same thing.

“rafe, i-i want that too.” i whisper.

his eyes snap over to me, they scan over my features. almost trying to see if i was telling the truth. “really?” he whispers.

“yeah.” i say breathlessly. “i-i’ve wanted so much more. i was just scared that you didn’t. and that if i said anything, i’d lose you completely. so i was just.. settling for what i could get.”

he swallows roughly, his lips parting. his hand comes up to my cheek, his thumb gently stroking the skin. “i wanna give you everything.” he whispers. “i-i don’t deserve you. i’m fucked up, and i get angry and i’m selfish. wanting you is probably the most selfish thing i’ve ever done. but i-i can’t get you out of my head.” he sighs softly, his hand gently cradling my face.

“i may be all of those things.” he whispers. “but i’m gonna work so damn hard to deserve you. i’m gonna be better, i wanna be better every time i’m near you, baby.”

i shake my head gently. “you don’t need to be better.”

he smiles softly. “this is what i’m talkin’ about. too sweet for your own good, baby.”

“so.. you wanna be.. real?” i ask softly, my voice cautious. “like.. official and exclusive?”

he grins, nodding softly. “mhm.” he hums. “want you to be my girl. just mine.”

i smile softly, my stomach swarming at his words. “yeah?”

he chuckles lowly. “yeah, sweetheart.”

i can’t help the grin that creeps up on my lips. i scoot closer, burying my face in his neck. “okay.” i whisper, my arms wrapping around his broad shoulders.

his beefy arms immediately encapsulate me, holding my close. “yeah? you my girl, sweetheart?”

i grin, my cheeks heating up this words. “yeah, ‘m your girl.”

he grins, chuckling lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to my jaw. “‘m sorry i didn’t say anything sooner. made you think i was stringing you along.”

“no..” i shake my head softly. “‘m just glad i have you now.” i whisper. “in every way.”

he smiles, tugging me impossibly closer. “in every way.” he promises.

-

sickeningly sweet 🙂‍↕️ i’m a sucker for fluff srryyyy

[sttoru]

‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’

☀︎｜tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!

satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.

ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.

though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.

“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”

you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.

“mama, go! mama go papa.”

satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.

your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.

you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.

however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.

“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”

even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.

“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.

satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.

“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”

your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.

you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.

it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.

your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.

“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.

“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”

you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.

“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.

your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.

he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.

“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”

the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.

“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”

you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.

it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.

[mggslover]

No Strings Attached

In which reader is on a mission to get her boss to relieve some stress, not realizing he'd end up doing the same for her.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: smut (18+) x fluff Content warnings: porn with plot, jessica and jack make an appearance, no mention of haley, hotch smiling (lol), reader being sad and a bit insecure bc she hasn't got laid in a while, mentions of drinking wine, no strings attached (but not really bc they're obsessed with each other), soft!dom hotch, praise, breast play, ass worship, oral (f receiving), p in v sex Word count: 4,7k A/n: first time writing a fic dedicated to Hotch and i fear i'm obsessed... also i had to do some acrobatics to make sure these positions work (they do) so give me a heart for the effort your feedback and support are highly appreciated!

Aaron Hotchner is a busy man. And these days, even more so. The responsibilities of being Unit Chief were always demanding, but they seemed to multiply now that he was balancing the weight of single parenthood as well.

As a profiler it was obvious to you how much he struggled with juggling between these professions, even though he always tried to hide it from the team. You noticed his slightly furrowed brow when he thought no one was watching, and the slow drag of his steps as he moved between meetings and paperwork.

Since you’d joined the team, you'd developed a deep respect for Aaron. Where others saw a hard-nosed, no-nonsense boss—a “drill sergeant” in Morgan’s words—you saw a man who held himself and his team to incredibly high standards because he believed in their potential. You saw a man who cared deeply, even when his personal life was slowly suffocating beneath the pressure of it all.

Even if he would never admit it, no human being can go through the difficulties he goes through without ever catching a break, without getting any help. So tonight, as you passed his office, a light still flickering inside, you decided to do something about it.

Your knuckle made contact with the door, knocking three times as you waited. When there was no immediate response, you quietly creaked the door open.

The sight of him behind the desk was familiar. His shoulders were hunched and his brows furrowed in concentration, as he scanned the endless stacks of paperwork that seemed to breed faster than he could handle them.

"Hey," you greeted softly, offering a small smile as you stepped into the room.

Hotch looked up from the pile in front of him, his gaze flicking from the documents to you. There was a slight exhaustion behind his eyes that he didn’t try to mask.

"Hey.” His eyes dropped to his wristwatch for just a moment, his lips curling into a subtle frown. "It’s late. Why haven’t you gone home yet?"

You waved off his concern. "I’m about to. Had to send a few more emails for the lab reports."

He nodded, but didn’t immediately return to his work. Instead, he watched you with that signature intensity of his, silently observing you.

"I- uh, I wanted to ask you something.” You hesitated for a moment as you moved further into the room, the door gently clicking shut behind you.

His brows rose slightly, an almost imperceptible shift of interest in his posture. "Go on."

You cleared your throat, your hands instinctively clasping behind your back. "You’ve been working a lot of late nights."

“That’s not a question.” He stated in an amused tone.

A small smile played on your lips. "I know, but it’s a… concern," you said. "And I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help you out."

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. His hands folded neatly in his lap, and he leaned back in his chair. It was hard to tell whether he was considering your offer or mentally debating the logistics of it.

"You want to help me out?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

“Yes.”

Aaron grabbed a stack of papers, knocking them into a neat pile on his desk, then looked back at you. "So, this is something you’re interested in?" His tone was laced with amusement as he nodded down at the amount of paperwork in his hands.

You winced at the sight of it. "Uh... not exactly," you said, trying to keep your tone light. "I was thinking more along the lines of taking care of Jack," you added, raising your voice slightly on the last part, unsure of how he’d react to your suggestion.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Taking care of Jack?"

"Yeah.” You met his gaze, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty creeping in. "Just on the days we don’t have a case. I could go to your place and stay with him until you get home."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You know Jessica’s there," he said, referring to his ex-sister-in-law who had taken on the role of taking care of Jack when he had to work.

“Don’t you think she deserves a break every once in a while?”

His expression shifted, becoming slightly defensive. "She offered to take care of him.”

"I know," you responded quickly, knowing he’d never force her into it. "But I’m offering too. I babysat all through university, I know what I’m doing."

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, his eyes flicking back to the papers in front of him. "That’s not necessary, but thank you," he said, his tone closing the conversation.

You weren’t ready to let it go yet. You stepped closer to his desk, hoping to draw his attention back. "Please? I want to help you."

He didn’t look up. "I don’t need any help," he stubbornly replied, his eyes still glued to the paperwork.

“Then let me put it this way,” you pressed on. "I want to help the team, because no offense, your stress is affecting all of us. And on top of that, I want to help Jack."

He glanced up at you, the wheels in his mind turning, and you showed him your best puppy eyes.

"Did you learn that from Reid?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Is it working?" you grinned back.

He chuckled breathlessly. "Alright, fine. One night. Let’s see how it goes."

You fought back a victorious grin. “Good. Just you wait, Hotchner. Once you see how great I am with kids, you’ll never let me go."

—

A week later, Hotch took you up on your offer. Jessica had a wedding to attend, and you’d agreed to look after Jack for the evening.

Though you’d spent plenty of time with Jack when he visited his dad at the office or at events outside of work, Hotch insisted on driving you to his place for a proper handoff.

He held the door open for you as you entered his apartment. You were immediately greeted by Jessica, dressed in a stunning outfit with a purse ready in hand.

"I’m late, I’m late!" she panicked, almost running as she headed for the door. But when she saw you, her demeanor softened.

“There’s my saving grace,” she said with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

You waved her off with a grin. “It’s my pleasure. You look amazing, go have fun.”

She offered a final smile, then said her goodbyes to Hotch before quickly heading out.

“Hi, Dad!” Jack’s voice rang out as he bounced into the living room, his excitement palpable. You smiled, watching the little boy as he ran toward his father.

“Hey, buddy.” Hotch lifted him into his arms with a small groan. “You’re getting bigger every day.”

Your heart warmed at the exchange. Hotch was a completely different man when he was at home—more relaxed, more playful, the kind of father who carefully kept work and family separate.

He put Jack down, introducing you to him.

“I know who she is, Dad. We colored together. She’s really good at drawing Spider-Man.”

Hotch raised an intrigued eyebrow at you.

"I have more hidden talents than you know,” you playfully shrugged.

You turned to Jack, crouching down to his level. "Want to grab the crayons? We can make some more drawings."

Jack’s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he scampered off in search of his favorite colors, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll find the red one!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm and straightened up, turning back to Hotch. “You’ve got a sweet kid,”

Hotch’s eyes followed Jack as he rummaged through the drawer. There was pride in the way he looked at his son, but you could see the hint of anxiety that always seemed to lurk beneath the surface when it came to Jack.

You placed a reassuring hand on his arm, giving him a small, comforting squeeze. “He’s in good hands, Hotch. You don’t have to worry.”

He met your eyes, and for a brief moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift. His gaze softened with unspoken gratitude. “I trust you,” he spoke sincerely.

“Good.” You gave him a small smile and gave his bicep a final, reassuring pat. “Now get some work done. You might be able to make it in time for dinner.”

With a final glance at Jack, he turned to leave. The door clicked softly behind him, and you were left on your own with the mini version of him, who was already showing off his new crayons.

—

That evening marked the first of many. When you weren’t out on a case, you found yourself naturally heading to Hotch's after work—sometimes taking over from Jessica for the day or picking up Jack from school yourself. You often stayed well into the evening, even after Hotch came home, enjoying dinner together, playing games, or simply talking. There were even times where you stayed the night, sharing a quiet drink after putting Jack to bed. He’d insist you sleep in his bed while he took the couch. In the mornings, the three of you would share breakfast, with Hotch always ensuring the fridge was stocked with your favorite foods and knowing exactly how you liked your eggs.

You knew your colleagues would lose their minds if they’d ever find out, but for you, it never felt strange. It felt right. Comfortable. And whenever you were back on the field, you’d slip back into your professional roles—the accidental first-name slips the only sign of the bond you shared.

Being at their place made you realize how much your work had tangled itself into every aspect of your life. You’d moved away from family, struggled to maintain a personal life, and watched every attempt at dating falter because of your job. Despite how fulfilling your work at the BAU was, you’d forgotten just how deeply you craved a sense of belonging—a place where you were appreciated for more than just your professional skills or your ability to handle a weapon. Around Aaron and Jack, you could simply let go and be yourself.

Today was another day at the Hotchner house. You had spent the entire afternoon with Jack playing soccer in a nearby park until he was utterly exhausted, you practically had to drag him home. This time you didn’t mind though. Today has been a painful reminder of how single you were. The park had been filled with happy couples—some picnicking, some feeding the ducks, and others nervously sharing their first kiss.

You were grateful for how Aaron had allowed you to wiggle your way into his little family on days like these, but still it wasn’t yours. You still longed for one to call your own one day.

So, here you were—alone on the couch, watching a rom-com wishing you were starring in it, and finding comfort in the warmth of his house and the glass of wine in your hand.

You were so absorbed in the movie that you didn’t notice the door unlocking until Hotch stepped inside.

“Hey,” you greeted, reaching for the remote to pause the film.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, putting down his bag and hanging up his jacket. He loosened his tie and walked over to the couch, settling on the opposite end.

“Sorry, I opened a new bottle of wine”

He waved it off. “I’m glad that you did. It would’ve just collected dust on the shelf.”

You take another sip. “It’s a good one. Rossi’s?”

“You know it,” he replied with a soft smile, getting comfortable in the cushions as you put the movie back on.

The screen flickered with a romantic scene: a couple dancing in the rain, the male lead spinning the woman around in circles as they laughed.

“I miss that,” you murmured, a wistful smile tugging at your lips as you watched them.

Hotch glanced at you, a smirk forming. “It’s raining outside. Be my guest.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully dismissing the comment. “That’s not what I meant. Just look, Aaron,” you pointed at the TV, where the couple gazed at each other lovingly, before he pulled her in for a passionate kiss. “I don’t remember the last time someone looked at me like that.”

“Sometimes, I feel so desperate that I think about saying yes to the first guy who comes along, just to feel wanted again.”

Hotch straightened, concern flickering in his eyes. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“I know, Dad,” you teased, trying to ease the tension. “I’m unfortunately fully aware of the creeps out there.”

“On top of that, I’m not even sure anyone would take me up on it,” you added with a breathless laugh, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. “I haven’t exactly gotten much attention since joining the team. Maybe I’m not considered attractive anymore.”

“People can tell you know how to handle yourself,” he profiled. “Some find that intimidating. But you’re just as attractive—if not more so—than before you joined the team.”

You almost spilled your wine at his confession, the sudden heat in your cheeks betraying the flutter in your stomach.

“You don’t have to say that,” you mumbled, not wanting him to feel pity for you.

“Am I lying?” he asked, his voice steady. You met his gaze—his posture was open, his shoulders relaxed, and his eye contact was unwavering. It was textbook honesty.

“No,” you admitted quietly, feeling the truth of his words sink in.

“I don’t think you need some stranger or a serious relationship to get what you’re after.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him right. “No?”

Hotch leaned in just a little, his voice lower now. “I think we could give each other what we need... without it being complicated.”

Your heart skipped, and you tried to process what he was suggesting. Your mind raced, the words hanging in the air between you.

“Are you suggesting a no-strings-attached relationship with me?”

He gave a small, wry smile. “I’m trying to be subtle about it, but it’s not going so well.”

You laughed, caught off guard, trying to mask your surprise as you saw the seriousness in his expression.

“How will this work?”

The corners of his lips lifted as you acknowledged thinking this through. “We would just… enjoy ourselves. Just when we’re here. Just when it’s the two of us.”

Enjoying yourself with Aaron Hotchner definitely wasn’t how you’d imagined this night going.

You stayed quiet, thinking it over. After a moment you slowly nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, waiting for confirmation.

“Yes. I am,” you responded, the words coming easier now.

You licked your lips nervously as he moved closer to you. His cologne enveloped you, making your pulse quicken.

As he continued gazing into your eyes, you decided it was your turn to make the next move. Carefully, you reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble against the palm of your hand. A small prayer passed through your mind, hoping you wouldn’t regret your next decision.

Then you kissed him.

The moment his lips met yours, the cliché of “fireworks” suddenly made sense—the feeling was intense, electric, a rush that left you breathless. His hands moved to the sides of your waist, pulling you closer. Before you could think, you were settled on his lap, the world around you narrowing to the heat of his touch.

A small, desperate whimper escaped you as his tongue brushed against yours. It had been so long since someone touched you this way—especially someone as strong and attractive as Aaron. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips as your hand slid over his chest, the other wrapping around his neck. He deepened the kiss, and the feeling was so overwhelming that it almost made you cry in relief.

He brushed his hands over the smooth curve of your waist and down the swell of your thighs, digging his fingers into the clothed skin.

Your soft moans were swallowed by your kisses, and you couldn’t help yourself as you moved your hips against his, feeling yourself get more aroused with each movement against the thin fabric of his slacks.

He let out a low grunt as you repeatedly rolled your hips against the hardening bulge in his pants. His large hands roamed up beneath your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You placed your hands over his, ready to take your shirt off, but just as quickly his hands closed around your wrists, stopping you gently.

“Not here,” he warned. “Let’s move to the bedroom.”

His words sent a rush of desire to your core, and though your legs trembled, you stood from his lap and followed him across the room. As he moved, Hotch unbuckled his belt with one swift, effortless motion. You paused mid-step, breath catching at the sight of the leather coiled in his hand, hypnotised by how seductive the image looked. You blinked a couple of times to get out of your trance, before hurrying after him, your legs trying to catch up to his confident pace.

You stepped into the bedroom, moving until you stood at the foot of the bed as he locked the door behind you. A flutter of nerves stirred in your stomach at the reality of what was about to happen.

Hotch walked toward you, slowly closing the distance. His eyes were dark as they took you in with a look of pure lust—one you’d previously never seen on him.

“Turn around for me.”

Maybe it was because you were so accustomed to his authority in the field, or perhaps it was the undeniable fact that you'd let him do anything to you at this point, but without a second thought, you obeyed, turning your back toward him.

His hands reached out to rub over your shoulders in slow circles. You instinctively leaned into him, your eyes closing as you let yourself melt into the comfort of his touch. He presses in closer, his chin resting against your shoulder.

“What is it that you’ve been longing for?” His voice is a soft, sensual whisper, his breath warm against your skin.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as his hands delicately trail over your collarbones, carefully moving lower, inching toward your breasts. The moment his palms cup them, your nipples harden.

He hummed, still awaiting a response.

“You,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible through the thick need.

You feel the faint curve of a teasing smile against your skin. “You already have me,” he murmured. “Tell me how I can make you feel good.”

His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you arch your back into him, feeling the solid press of his body against yours, the hardness in his pants meeting you once again.

“It’s been a while since-” your words dissolve into a moan as his fingers pinch your nipples.

“Since what?” he teased, his lips tracing the curve of your neck, each kiss setting your skin alight.

You swallowed. “Since… since someone’s gone down on me.”

“Is that so?” he hummed, the sound rich with interest. His tongue slides up your neck, before turning it into a kiss.

“Aaron, please,” you begged, grinding your hips into him.

“How can someone like you have been deprived of pleasure for so long?” he thought out loud, and he finally grabbed the material of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

His hands glide softly over your back, before he unclasps your bra with one smooth motion. Your breasts spill free, and he immediately cups them in his hands, holding them as if he wants to keep you warm and covered. The pleasure is even more delicious now that the contact is skin-to-skin.

His hands roam over your stomach, until he reaches the button of your pants, undoing it. He sinks to his knees behind you, his fingers curling around the waistband of your pants and panties, easing them down. A low curse escapes him as the fabric slides over your ass and down your thighs, revealing more of you inch by inch.

You held onto his shoulder for support, as he steadied your leg, guiding you to step out of your pants. The second he tossed the fabric to the side, he placed his hands steadily on your thighs, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your ass. You let out a moan, bucking forward, but he holds you firmly in place as his lips trail wet, lingering kisses over your cheeks.

“Place your knee on the bed for me,” he tenderly instructs.

You followed his order, lifting one knee onto the bed, your upper body arching slightly as it hovers just above the mattress. The cool air brushes over your exposed pussy as you’re displayed in front of him.

A loud moan leaves your mouth, as his tongue makes contact with your folds. The pressure is just right, each flick of his tongue drawing a sharp gasp from you as he licks up and down in a deliberate rhythm.

“You taste like heaven,” he groans, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through you as he speaks, “dripping down your thighs already.” His lips trail lower, and he laps up the wetness that has gathered on your inner thighs, his stubble tickling against your sensitive skin. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold on to.

Aaron’s tongue returns to your pussy, the tip of it firmly pushing inside, curling upward as he slides in and out, hitting all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each thrust makes you cry out.

You let out a small whine as his tongue retreats, pressing a delicate kiss to the tender skin. “Don’t get me wrong,” he starts, licking his lips clean, “I love hearing you, but you can’t be too loud.”

You silently nodded, your breath hitching as his finger unhurriedly traced your sensitive folds. Just as he was about to enter you, you stopped him.

“I- I need your cock,” you whined, your hips pushing back toward him, desperate for more.

“Yeah? You need it that bad?” he teased, as he rose to his feet behind you.

You crawled onto the bed, glancing back at him. His lips still glistened with the trace of you, and his eyes were locked onto yours, filled with predatory focus.

“I need it, Aaron,” you repeated, biting your bottom lip as your gaze lingered on the hard outline of his length pressed against his thigh.

He groaned, his hands quickly pulling at his tie, tossing it aside before he began unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were confident—like a private performance just for you. You leaned back on your arms, your feet planted on the bed, allowing him to see just how much he was making you ache for him.

As he removed his shirt, the muscles in his broad shoulder flexed, and the trail of dark hair down his stomach led your eyes straight to what you craved.

He wasn’t shy as he pulled his pants down, eager to show you just how worked up you’d made him. His length stood hard, the tip flushed red and glistening with precum. You instinctively pressed your thighs together, giving you a soft release of tension.

He joined you on the bed, lying on his side and pulling you flush against his chest, spooning you. His lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss, his groans vibrating against your mouth. His hand explored your front, squeezing your breasts, while his arousal pressed insistently against your ass.

You moaned, your leg draping over his as you shifted, opening yourself up to him. He reached down, gripping his length, positioning it against you before slowly pushing inside, stretching you inch by inch.

You took a sharp breath, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. His cock throbbed, as if begging for you to move. Slowly, you rolled your hips, taking more of him in, and Hotch’s low growl rumbled in your ear.

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with pleasure. “Taking me so well.”

He was fully inside you now, filling you completely, and his hand slid down to your exposed clit, his fingers moving in slow, rhythmic circles. His thrusts matched the pace, deep and deliberate.

Every movement sent shockwaves through your body, your breath quickening as the familiar knot of pleasure tightened in your stomach.

“I’m close, Aaron,” you whimpered, and he moaned in response, placing soft kisses along your jaw before sucking at your neck, marking you.

His fingers moved faster, pushing you closer to the edge, and your body twitched as your orgasm crashed over you. His arms held you tight, anchoring you as the sensations slowly subsided.

When he withdrew his hand from your clit, it slid down to your knee, bending your leg to spread you even wider. Without warning, he began pounding into you, the sudden change in speed making you cry out, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips.

“Be quiet for me. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warned. You involuntarily moaned at the way he commanded you, and he grunted in response.

With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, your body pressed flat against the bed. A sharp gasp escaped you as he grabbed your thighs, lifting them to raise your ass in the air, before entering you again.

One hand pressed firmly into your shoulder, holding you down, while the other gripped your hips, forcing you to meet each of his thrusts. The new position did its job—your moans were muffled into the pillow, leaving only the wet slap of skin and the sound of Hotch’s deep, guttural grunts with each push of his hips.

“They're so stupid for not wanting you,” he groaned. “You have me now. I’ll give you everything you want.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. After feeling this, you knew you wouldn’t ever be satisfied by anyone else. You would want no one but him.

“I’m going to come inside of you,” he breathed, bending over so his chest pressed against your back, his warmth enveloping you.

“Oh-“ Your breath caught as the sensation in your core tightened again. “Yes, please. Inside of me, please.” You couldn’t form a full sentence as the heat inside of your core builds up again.

He reaches under you to touch your clit, and the instant his fingers make contact, you come undone. Your legs tremble, giving way beneath you as the rush of pleasure takes over. Hotch pushes into you two more times before you feel him spill inside, the sensation sending you into another, deeper orgasm.

He presses soft, tender kisses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “I’m sorry I got a little carried away.”

You hum in satisfaction, a pleased smile tugging at your lips. “I’m glad you did.”

—

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you had a quick shower together—Hotch giving you one more orgasm—and were now laying in bed, your clean bodies tangled under his sheets.

“Will you stay the night?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as he held you close.

It was endearing how gentle and shy he sounded, a stark contrast to what the two of you had just shared.

“Only if you promise to not move to the couch,” you mumbled sleepily, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

You turned your head to him, noticing the quiet that had settled between you both.

“What is it?” you asked, tracing absent patterns to his skin.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I was thinking… maybe we can attach those strings a bit more.”

You chuckled. “Maybe,” you playfully teased, pressing a final kiss to his lips.

[churipu]

SAY "DADA" 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento x fem! reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. toji cries but he doesn't admit it bye

note. i just spent a good hour watching the "glimpse of us" parents-baby trend, it's so cute. i just had to make something family themed for the jjk men :( i'm so sorry for the lack of updates, i just finished work and boy— it was stressful.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"come on, little guy . . . say dada, da . . . da!" gojo nodded his head slowly, in his grasp stood his one year old son.

all he got in return was a loud strained laugh from the little boy, "it's okay, baby. take it slow, come on, dada . . . da . . ." the blue eyed male softly spells out the word.

"satoru, you've been trying for an hour now." you informed him, eyeing the father-son duo every now and then, "he's going to get it eventually . . ."

gojo chuckled, "i know, baby. 'm just so excited, what if he said his first words when 'm out on a mission," a sad smile etched onto his lips as he cradled the baby in his hold.

"dada!"

it took gojo a few seconds to process what his son just uttered in excitement. slowly, the corner of his lips tugged upwards in happiness — gojo cheers loudly, nuzzling his face into your son's little belly, making him craze out in pure euphoria.

"you just said your first word, good job, buddy! 'm so proud of you," gojo muffled out into the baby's tummy, "daddy's so proud of you."

gojo then faced you, "his first word is dada, i'm going to cry . . ."

to which he did, sniffling loudly — making the little boy imitate him, scrunching his face into a big frown before wailing out a loud cry. hearing your baby cry, gojo softly hushed him, patting his back, "no, no, baby. daddy's crying of happiness, not sadness, please don't cry."

"aren't you two just the cutest?" you asked, kissing the baby on his chubby cheek — calming him down almost immediately. his loud cries ceasing down under your touch.

"we are." gojo chuckled, nose raging red from sniffling mucus.

"please get rid of your snot, satoru . . ."

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

"come on, dada. say it." toji mutters, pulling on megumi's little cheek — gently, and the baby seemingly annoyed, swats off his father's giant fingers.

toji scoffed, "huh, wonder where y' got that attitude from."

you eyed him, "what do you mean? megumi's exactly just like you — i carry him for nine months and he ends up being a copy of you," you chuckled, ruffling megumi's hair.

the young ten month old baby crawled his way over to you, settling himself on his lap, eyeing his father sharply, "what're y'looking at, huh?"

instinctively you hit toji's bicep gently, "stop that."

"'m not doing anything . . ." toji replies back, rolling his eyes before crossing his arms, "stupid baby."

"dada!" megumi shrieks out, pointing his small finger accusingly at toji, a cute glare looming over his dark eyes, "dada!"

toji blinked once. twice. thrice, and he ended up scoffing, looking away from both you and megumi, "he said his first word, and it's me," toji mutters into his skin, clamping his palm over his lips as his elbow propped down onto the couch's hand rest.

"good job, 'gumi!" you cheered, raising the boy up in the air, kissing his cheek which made the baby erupt in small laughter.

megumi crunched his legs happily, yelling out gibberish with a mix of "dada dada!"

"that's right, dada!" you parrot happily, gently hopping with megumi in your arms. eyeing toji who had been silent, "toji, are you okay?"

he grunted, brushing his face with his hands, "do i not look okay?"

"did you cry?" you ask.

toji grunted yet again in disdain, "why would i cry because the brat said his first word?" he did.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami sat on the floor cross-legged with his eleven month old daughter on his lap as he scanned the newspaper. at every page, his daughter didn't miss every spot on the dull colored paper, pointing at the paper and muttering out incoherent words.

"mhm, that's terrible news, isn't it?" he replies, sipping on his coffee mug.

you emerged from behind the bedroom door, hair disheveled, "good morning," you mumble out, wiping the back of your finger over your eyes.

"dada!"

you froze and eyed your daughter, and nanami did too. his head looked down onto the young girl in amusement, his gaze softening, "your first word . . ." he whispers, carrying the baby into his strong arms.

"you just said your first word, baby!" your raspy morning voice chirped, it was as if your exhaustion had disappeared in a heap of moments and you trotted down the ground, approaching the father-daughter.

"i'm so proud of you," nanami gently placed a kiss on top of his daughter's head, cradling her small body.

you were pulled into a hug by nanami, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and he pulled you to his side — his cheek leaning on your head in content, "good morning."

"dada dada!" your daughter cheered happily, patting nanami's face with her small hands.

"mhm, i'm dada, baby." he mumbles, letting the young girl do as she likes. you cooed softly at the sight, wrapping an arm around his waist.

a good morning it is.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When they call you clingy, so you distance yourself | Hyung Line Pt. 2

Warnings: Cursing

Pt1, Pt3 Maknaeline

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BANGCHAN|

Chris groaned and put his head into his hands. He stared at the the screen in front of him.

8:28

He had decided to make today an early morning so he could call it an early night, but he wasn't even able to work on what he had actually intended to do because a trainee's mistake. Although he was heated in the moment he had apologized when he had run into the frightened guy in the canteen. It was an honest mistake when laptops looked exactly the same.

He had also realized that he was heated in the moment when you had come to visit him.

His fingers itched to text you an apology but he knew this was something that he needed to apologize for in person. So he shut his laptop and tucked it into his bag and decided to head home rather than starting a new project.

It was eating at his consciousness, the way he brushed you off so easily earlier just because of stress that had nothing to do with you. He reached over the couch in his studio to flick off the light.

A soft ruffling of fabric startled him slightly and he looked down to see your black coat draped over the couch of the same color.

"Its freezing." He mumbled grabbing it and quickly heading out of the building.

I was such a dick. She was so distraught she walked home in this weather without a coat.

Chris drove over to your apartment and parked haphazardly on the street. It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and a small part of him was worried about having something happen to his car, but he couldn't focus on that when he needed to focus on fixing things with you.

He pulled out his keys and found the small silver spare to your apartment.

"Baby?" Chris called out. He slipped off his shoes and he walked from the foyer into your kitchen, his black socks slipping a little on your freshly swept floors.

"Y/N?" Chris called out, flipping the light on in the kitchen. The box of trash bags was sitting on the counter and he placed them back under the sink. "Baby?"

Something was off. Chris felt it in his bones. He tried to steady his heart. Maybe you were asleep? If it wasn't to him, you tended to turn to your bed for comfort when you were sad.

He reached for your door handle out of habit of strolling into the guys room but paused to knock.

"Love?" He called out. He knocked for another minute or two, before turning the handle softly in case you were sleeping. "Baby, I don't know if your asleep but I'm coming in okay?"

Your room was empty, and the fairy lights you always kept on were off.

He flipped on the light and he felt his heart sink to his feet.

He immediately rushed out of your room and started looking through the cabinets and drawers and nooks and crannys of every other space.

Your apartment was bare minus the essentials.

In your guest room you had boxes neatly stacked in various places.

Chris felt tears crawl at his throat.

"Baby?" He tried calling out again. "Y/N this isn't funny! Say something!" He cried out.

He fumbled to grab his phone from his pocket.

His fingers shook as he called you.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

"No," He mumbled.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

"No," Chris mumbled. "No," He said again.

He felt his heart jump through his throat and he couldn't breathe.

His hands were shaking as he dialed up another number.

"Oi, Chris you coming home soon-"

"Fe-Felix." He choked out. He couldn't even continue without hyperventilating. "Fe-Felix I-I can't breathe. I-I can't-"

"I'm coming to you alright? I have your location I'll be there okay? Okay just try and calm down okay? I'll be there soon." Chris could hear the jingling of keys and the slamming of the door and Minho's voice in the background as Felix panted running to the car. "Stay on the phone Channie-hyung okay, I'll be right there."

"I-I can't breathe." He cried out.

"It'll be okay, I'll be right there hyung." Felix slammed his fist down on his car horn and yelled a string of profanities as another car blared their horn in the distance as well.

By the time Felix had arrived at your house Chris was an absolute mess.

Felix was instantly able to tell what was wrong with Chan when he saw the boxes and Chan desperately trying to unpack them.

"Hey-hey Chris calm down." Felix said as he grabbed onto his hyung's shoulders.

"S-She's leaving me." He cried out. "Felix, she's leaving me. She can't leave me. My heart -my heart can't take it. I don't want-want her to leave m-me."

Felix didn't know what to do as he watched his best friend completely shatter in front of him.

"Hyung I'm sure she is-"

"I-I called her clingy. I told her to leave me alone. I don't want to be alone." He whimpered. "I didn't mean it Felix. I didn't m-mean it." He whimpered his voice cracking. "I-I was stressed and-and I yelled- I called her ob-obsess- Felix, she can't leave me. I don't want to be alone."

Felix pulled out his phone and dialed your number. "Hyung calm down I'm sure she's just angry at the moment, it'll blow over. It'll blow over." He repeated as if convincing himself as well. He chewed on the edge of his thumbnail as your phone rang. Chris was collapsed on his and Felix pet his hair.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

Felix looked at the broken man in front of him and swallowed.

"It'll be fine. Y/N wouldn't break up with you over something like that, right?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

MINHO|

"Do you really think it was necessary to yell at her?" Changbin asked as the guys were walking through the market. You had opted not to join and rather hang out with some of the girls from TWICE who were also in Paris for the same event the Kids had came for. The only problem was you had opted to do that for the entire week. You all were flying home tomorrow and Minho hadn't seen more than a glimpse of you other than a few pictures the girls had posted on their fake accounts, and the few pictures you had posted on your private account.

"Why would it not be necessary?" Minho asked.

"Because you're pissed at something that wasn't even her fault." The shorter male said and he picked up a random little trinket to look at, it was a little heavy so he used it as a makeshift dumbell for a second.

"Ya, she quite literally ruined my entire plan."

Changbin looked at Minho like he had grown a second head. "How the hell was she supposed to know you were trying to propose to her?!"

Minho pursed his lips and turned away and started walking.

Changbin moved his tiny legs to catch up with the cat eyed member.

Felix crossed paths with them and joined the conversation.

"Minho-Hyung you've been miserable all week. Just swallow your pride and apologize."

"I have nothing to apologize fo-"

"Ya! No offense Hyung but you're being a fucking idiot!" Felix said. The two Hyungs of Felix recoiled and looked at the sunshiny Aussie. "Sorry for my tone Hyung but it's true. All she wanted to do was spend time with you because she loves you. And to her it seems like you got upset because you didn't to spend time with you. And you got upset with her because you planned a super elaborate and flamboyant proposal because you love her and you weren't able to execute it. So basically, you are both pissed at each other because you love each other more than anything in this world. So tell me how that makes sense at all?"

Changbin nodded. "He's not wrong at all you're kind of an idiot."

Minho sighed and pouted.

"Which means you need to be the one to apologize because Y/N-ie actually has reason to be mad."

Minho's pout became even more noticeable.

Ugh...apologizing.

Felix seemed to read his elder's mind.

"Its either apologize or ruin your relationship. While it is super easy to replan a propsal, it sure as hell won't be able to replan your future if she walks out on you."

Minho felt that hit his heart hard, but still wanted to be stubborn. "What do you mean easy to replan a proposal? I spent months planning the one I intended to do."

Changbin rolled his eyes. "Ya! Y/N might be your girlfriend but you seem to forget she was all of our friend first. And I sure as hell know she would not care how you proposed to her. Even if you just did it the traditional and plain way of getting down on one knee and saying 'Y/N...will you marry me?" Changbin said mimicking Minho's voice.

Felix shook his head. "No it'd be more like 'Y/N marry me. You have no choice."

"No- 'Y/N, my cats need a mom. You are now their mom.'"

"'Y/N, our wedding is next Friday. Don't be late. Wear white." The happy boy mimicked with a deadpan face.

Changbin and Felix's antics were the thing that made Minho laugh all week. And the levity he felt now was what he felt with you always. And that made the absence of you hit him even harder.

"Can we go back to the hotel? I want- no I need to apologize." He said suddenly.

Changbin sputtered. "Never thought I'd hear that come out of your mouth ever."

Minho playfully shoved Changbin into Felix as they headed back in the direction of the hotel.

"So how do you think you'll propos-"

"Minho-ssi!" The guys stopped and they noticed Chaeyoung running towards them.

Minho felt his heart dip for a second. "What is it?"

"I-I went to get Y/N-ie for a girls night out but she wasn't in her room so I figured maybe she just stepped out to the convenience store with Tzuyu or Momo but she wasn't with them when they came back and Tzuyu said the last time she saw her was this morning after we had brunch." Chaeyoung tried to steady her voice. "And I called her but my calls aren't going throu-"

Minho didn't give Chaeyoung time to finish before he started running.

He didn't know where he was going, he didn't even really know where to find you.

All he knew is that he had to.

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CHANGBIN|

"Y/N." Changbin said. "Jagiya!" You ignored Changbin as you walked into your apartment.

He followed ensuite and was pouting. "Jagiya please talk to me. It's been three weeks."

"Mmmm. Nah. I don't feel like being clingy today." You said as you set your purse down and headed towards your bedroom.

"C'mon please? It was a stupid argument. I'm sorry. I was just upset."

"Hmm. And I'm upset right now too." You said as you started digging through your closest. You pulled out a cute yet sleek dress.

The same dress you had worn on your first date with Changbin oh so long ago.

"Babe?" Changbin asked as he saw you rummage through things on your vanity.

"Red or Pink?" You asked allowed. "Or I guess the question is should I do a matte red or a glossy red?" You turned to Changbin and gave an innocent look at him. "I don't know which one makes me look better."

"Stop that! Thats not funny. At all." Changbin said as he followed you into the bathroom. He stayed planted in the same spot even as you changed, shutting his eyes respectfully until you finished changing.

"Where are you going? Why are you getting dressed up."

You pulled your hair out of the braided updo you had it in and let it fall over your shoulders in a beautiful mix of loose curls and evem looser waves.

Changbin couldn't help but admire just how beautiful you looked right now. Matter of fact you always looked beautiful, but Changbin couldn't help but stare. Since this was the longest he had seen you in the past three weeks.

And seeing you get ready and dolled up worried him. It sparked a jealousy in him that he found himself all too familiar with these past few weeks. It was partly the reason he had snapped at you in the first place.

He had thought it was just a stupid argument but right now it seemed like it was so much more than that.

And it was slowly killing him. Had he really hurt you that bad?

"Jagiya where are you going?"

You ignored Changbin as you touched up your makeup slightly, wiping off the clear gloss you had and favoring a glossy red lip instead. You grabbed your favorite perfume - and Changbin's favorite on you - and sprayed it delicately over yourself.

You looked at your watch and looked up at Changbin. "I have to go I'm meeting someone at five."

You grabbed your purse and Changbin grabbed your wrist.

"W-What do you mean you're meeting someone?" You snatched your wrist away from him gently and made your way towards your car.

"W-Wait Y/N it's not a date is it? You're not going on a date? Wait please tell me you aren't."

"Changbin I have to go. It would be a bad first impression if I was late."

"Can you please at least tell me where you are going?"

You huffed. "I'm going to that one coffee shop next to the karaoke bar? The one we always used to go to when you had first asked me out." You said as you were strapping on a pair of heels.

Changbin felt like his world was collapsing.

"No. We aren't breaking up you're not allowed to do that."

You looked at Changbin with a confused - what the fuck are you on - type look.

"Changbin you realize people have the free will to do whatever they want right? Thats like me telling you you're not allowed to go to the gym anymore."

"You're not breaking up with me Y/N." He said his voice starting to waver. "You can't."

"Yup, Bin." You said as you opened the door and walked to your car. "Lock the door behind you, would ya?" You called out over your shoulder.

The muscular man quickly locked your door and came to the drivers side.

"Y/N," He said tapping on your window.

"Changbin can you make this quick? Like I said being late is a bad first impression."

"Who cares about first impressions! Y/N you can't date someone else!" He cries. "It was an argument! Are you really breaking up with me over this-"

"Damn Changbin I'm no-" Your phones started to ring and you answered it.

Changbin pouted at you as you spoke. Trying his best to listen to the conversation.

"Hello..." Why'd she say hello like that? So nicely... "Yes, I'm on my way right now just leaving my house..." She's already on the stage of letting him know her whereabouts? "Haha no no of course not...yeah....haha!" What could he possibly be saying to make her laugh that much? Only I can make her laugh like that...well I guess Jisung too but mainly me! "Uh I'll just get an iced vanilla latte with all my modifications- just ask Jiwon she'll know...." They have mutuals? "Yeah I'll be there soon....Yep! Can't wait to meet you either...mkay bye!"

Changbin felt his heart constrict as he watched you hang up and start your car.

You gave Changbin a small wave and pulled off, your tires screeching a little as you drove.

He quickly went to follow you. You wouldn't leave him. He wouldn't let you. Because you meant the world to him.

And without his world he would be nothing.

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HYUNJIN|

It had been a few days since Hyunjin had felt like he had spent time with you.

Because while you had been in his presence physically he felt like you had something on your mind.

You weren't all up on him like you usually were. And he missed that. He also missed you asking him if he liked your outfits. He missed the little twirl you would do asking if you looked okay; he missed being able to look at you lovingly while you did so; he missed being able to wait a little bit before he could comment how striking you looked; that little pause in time just to assure that he would be the one who could see you in that specific outfit longer than anyone else you would run into or hang out with, even if it was mere seconds more.

The way every part of you took up every aspect of his life was something he was so used to that he longed for it when he couldn't have it.

And for the past eleven days he longed for it.

So bad.

He missed you.

"Do you think I did something wrong?" Hyunjin asked Jisung as they sat down enjoying a cup of coffee together.

"I'm assuming so because she's treating me just fine. We actually just went to the movies the other day. Some random guy tried to hit on her and she made a comment about his hairline and how it showed his age and that shut him down real quick. It was actually fucking hilarious the way-"

"Did she say anything about me upsetting her?" Hyunjin asked, interuppting Jisung's tangent about his trip with the most loved girl of the band.

"Mm...now that I think about it, she made a comment about some other idol. I forget who she was talking about but I remembered her saying you were talking to them because she was just standing there waiting for you to finish and thats why she decided to drink that one drink. Because she didn't want to...how did she put it...look pathetic? Yeah, I think thats what she said. And she said it was no use because she looked pathetic throwing up all over Bangchan." He took a sip of his coffee. "I actually thought it was funny because Chan was saying he was trying to find an excuse to not have to wear that one suit jacket anymore because it was-"

"Jisung you're getting off topic." Hyunjin sighed. "Did she seem upset when she said that?"

Jisung shook his head. "I wouldn't say she seemed upset when she was talking about finding a use for her hands. I think she looked...off afterwards though. Especially whenever your name came up in ocnversation." He looked at Hyunjin pointedly. "But that wasn't that often. She may be your girlfriend but she is my soulmate so we have our own issues to discuss." He said taking another sip of his coffee. "Like all the drama in Hybe right now. Did you see- wait I'm getting off topic."

Hyunjin frowned. "So it was something I did..." He mumbled.

Jisung sniffed once. "Yeah probably." He said scratching his ear. "I can ask her if you'd like me to."

"No I thinks it okay, I'll find time to talk to her."

"Well they say there is no better time than the present because look who just walked in." The chubby cheeked boy nodded his head somewhere behind Hyunjin.

He turned around and saw you walking in with Felix. You walked up to the counter but didn't notice Hyunjin or Jisung sitting there.

Felix greeted the barista and ordered himself a drink while you looked at the menu.

Hyunjin felt the tiniest - the most miniscule pang of jealousy but it was quickly washed away because he knew that you only had eyes for him. You guys hadn't celebrated your first anniversary yet - it was in four days -but he knew just how much you loved him and he loved you.

And just that - he knew how in love you were with each other.

And thats why it hurt him so much to think he had hurt you.

Felix finished ordering and turned to you. Hyunjin had expected you to tell him your order and for Felix to relay it back to the barista but instead you spoke in Korean - hesitantly - but still with an immense amount of effort and obvious intermediate skill.

Felix corrected you on a couple of words, but after a few motivational words from the barista - words you obviously understood - you shined a bright smile and laughed.

"Y/N doesn't speak Korean." Hyunjin turned to Jisung, and the small quokka like boy pouted slightly. "Jisung."

"I walked in on Y/N-ie and Felix-" He blurted out. "God, I've been keeping that secret so long." He let out a breath and looked at Hyunjin's shocked face.

"Walked...in...?"

Jisung put a hand to his forehead. "Sorry I didn't finish my thought. I meant that I like...walked in on them while he was giving her secret korean lessons." He said wiggling his eyebrows.

"Jisung you're not helping my paranoia."

"I was wiggling my eyebrows because of the reason. She said she wanted to learn Korean so when it came time to meet your family she would be able to communicate well with them. It seems like she's actually pretty damn good at it too. Shes a fast learner according to Felix."

Hyunjin groaned. "She's so fucking cute but of all people in our groups she decided to get lessons from Lix? Did she never watch the survival show." He chuckled.

"Yeah...I guess that means I can tell you the actual reason she's upset with you now right?" Jisung said.

Hyunjin's head shot up and he looked at the younger boy expectantly.

"She overheard you calling her clingy. With the idol and his girlfriend..." He looked down and his voice dropped a little. "Its been eating at her a lot. Especially the girl's comment about foreigners and stuff. She was a total bitch for saying that because now it's been making her rethink everything. Because she seems to be convinced that it would be best for your reputation and your future if she ended things with you."

Hyunjin felt his throat constrict slightly. "S-she didn't mean that. She doesn't mean that. She can't."

Jisung hmmed in acknowledgment. "Hyung...she has it rough you know? The pedestal people in our industry put you on - and even in other industries and other countries -is the pedestal you're put on by the same people she consistently is surrounded by when accompanying you. The same people who write all those hateful comments about her on your posts and send even more hateful comments to her private account."

Hyunjin's eyes widened, and his fingers twitched slightly. "What comments? She hasn't told me about any...hate...comments..."

Jisung sighed. "She doesn't want to worry you. And I think she believes those comments too...she can't think of anything else to believe."

Hyunjin felt a knot place itself in his throat to stay as he walked you watch out the coffee shop with Felix trailing you. The thought of your insecurities bothered him immensely. The thought of you thinking you weren't worthy of him when it was the complete opposite; when it was him who wasn't worthy of you. He wished you could see yourself the way he saw you.

And he wished you believed him when he said all the things said.

Believe me when I call you beautiful. When I say I love you...

And if you don't want to in me...

Believe in us.