#I don't know why I put a period at the end of that but I’m to lazy to change it

[julymusings]

dark chocolate cherry

i want to bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

or; your boyfriend shows up when you just want some alone time [3.2k]

jason todd x fem!reader; reader gets her period and describes painful symptoms; just fluff; jason "words don't come easy so here's acts of service" todd this is earlier in the relationship which is why he's still a little shy but she knows he's red hood? idk man. i was just going with it; can you guess what inspired this? (everything is awful)

The day started at 2 AM when you woke to shooting pains in your abdomen and blood everywhere. It continued until 2:45 while you cleaned yourself, changed clothes, put on a fresh pad, took some painkillers, and changed the sheets. It paused for about an hour until you woke up again at 4:00, courtesy of Gotham’s patented night-life that had taught you to completely tune out the sound of police sirens. Tonight, however, they weren’t tuning out.

The sirens quieted at 4:10, by which angry tears collected in the corners of your eyes as you flopped around in bed in an attempt to get comfortable. No matter what you did, there was always something wrong; the pillow was too hard, the blanket was too scratchy, the position hurt your arm.

From 4:11 to 4:12, you screamed into your pillow.

By 4:15 you had settled in front of the TV with a bowl of dry cereal (it took everything in you not to cry over the lack of milk in your fridge), a heating pad, and your favorite comfort show queued up.

At 8 AM you managed to drag yourself to work, where you half-assed the day’s tasks, took a 15-minute break to cry in your car, then dipped out a half-hour early.

Now, at 5 PM on a Friday evening, you’re curled into the fetal position in front of your TV with your comfort show resumed and your trusty heating pad cranked to the highest setting. Prepared to spend the entire night here, you already changed into pajamas and kept a couple blankets within reach. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, and you stretch to reach it, careful not to lose your comfortable position or roll off the couch.

Jason About to leave Be there in 20

You groan out loud. You want to throw your phone across the room, but decide against it because no amount of hormones from hell are worth six hundred dollars. You’re still angry, though, for being so stupid as to forget about the date you had planned for tonight. Scrolling up to earlier messages, you see another text from today wishing you a good morning and telling you he was excited to see you tonight. But, too down to bother checking any messages today, you had missed it.

You I can’t tonight anymore I’m sorry I don’t feel great

After hitting send, you place your phone on the ground, not even having the energy to reach for the coffee table again. Or the energy to lift your arm back up, apparently, given how it hangs limply over the edge of the couch. You feel guilty about cancelling, but you are in no state to go out tonight. You’re used to the symptoms of your period hitting so hard. As much as you and Jason care about each other, you’re not sure you’re ready for him to see you like this. You’ve managed to plan your relationship around your hormone cycle so far, but today it came early.

Your phone’s buzzing is muffled by the rug, and you almost don’t hear it. Jason’s photo is displayed on the screen.

Your hanging hand clicks ‘answer’ and puts it on speaker so you can take the call without moving from how you're curled up.

“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine, I just don’t feel up for going out tonight. I’d rather stay home.”

“Did something happen?”

“No, I just got my period so I’m not really in the mood.”

“Okay, we can stay in tonight. What do you feel like eating? I can pick something up.”

“No, Jason…I want to stay home alone tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line.

“Okay…did I do something?” His voice comes out a little smaller.

“No, you’re fine, I promise. I just don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.”

“…Not even me?”

Your hand presses against your temples to soothe the building tension headache. The self-doubt in his tone brings the anguish of the entire day bubbling up your throat. You feel like the worst person in the world. Exactly how you don’t want him to see you.

“Jason…it’s not you. I just…I feel like shit right now, honestly. Everything hurts, I’m miserable and sad and angry at everything, I’m breaking out all over.” You feel yourself welling up at all these little stresses coming out. “I’m craving everything but feel too sick to eat anything…I feel pretty disgusting right now, and frankly, I don’t want you to see me like this.” You finish your rant with a sniffle. You wipe your nose, trying to hold back the sob that’s threatening to break through. But at his silence, your worst, most improbable fears claw their way to the surface: he hates you now. You scared him away. You exhale heavily into your sleeve as more tears spill.

The phone is quiet for a long moment.  Then; “I could never find you disgusting,” he says, gently. “But if that’s what you want, then we’ll reschedule.”

“Thank you. And sorry.”

He speaks with a tone you can’t quite parse. “Don’t apologize. Just feel better.”

-

-

-

It’s one hour after your phone call, and at the first knock, you know who it is. Who else could it be? With that soft, somewhat hesitant, one-knuckle rap on the door. Only one person knocks on your door like that.

“Jason, I told you not to come here,” you say a little more cutting than you intend to, but your back and shoulders feel like they’re about to snap under a phantom pressure and the frustration of your request being outright ignored leaves a burning bitterness that channels itself into a violent wrenching open of the door.

He jumps a little at the abruptness of your greeting. One look at your face and he visibly deflates.

“I’m sorry…I know you said not to come, but…” his gaze casts downward to his hands. You follow; he’s clutching a reusable grocery bag. Peeking out of the top is a gallon of Neapolitan ice cream. The ice cream carton’s condensation seeped through a small patch of the cloth bag and dripped onto the other items; a bushel of greens, among some other fruits and vegetables, as well as a parcel of brown paper that was fastened closed with a twine string. You return your gaze to his face.

“I think—” he cuts himself off, free hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Then he drops his hand and sighs. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea. You told me not to come here and I ignored you, but I thought…” he trails off, probably hoping you’ll say something so he can gauge your reaction.

You just stare at him.

He shifts his weight back and forth. His hand twitches.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll—”

Then, you burst into tears.

Jason’s eyes widen. He reaches out to touch you, then stops himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, this was stupid. Please stop crying, I’m so sorry—” He’s panicked, trying to calm you down with apologies and soothing assurances that he will leave immediately and never go against your wishes again. All the while you stand in the doorway, blubbering like a toddler with a skinned knee, new tears forming faster than you can wipe the old ones away.

He once again raises a hand towards you, before it stutters, then clenches into a fist as if it takes all his strength to fight against the instinct to be close to you, fighting against the string that tethers him to you. He drags his hand down his face, then it falls back to his side.

“Okay, I—I’m leaving now. I’m leaving. Do you…want this?” He holds the bag out to you.

With it now in front of you, its further contents are visible. You manage to tamp down your tears enough to get a few words out.

“Did you—hic—buy me groceries?”

“Yeah…” There’s a wince in his tone, as if he’s only now realizing that his gesture is not translating as he intended.

You look back up at him with pursed lips and knitted brows, sniffling. Sure, the ice cream you can understand, but…you have no idea what to make of the rest.

The bag drops back to his side. “I figured…it’s just— it’s the stuff that you’re supposed to—” He strokes his palm over his mouth, eyes screwing shut for a moment. He huffs at himself, then continues. “I mean I’m sure you already know all of this, so maybe you already have all these things, and now I’m realizing how unnecessary all this was, and I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Jason,” you say. Your upset has since been overshadowed by something else, though you can’t tell what it is. And your crying has stopped, but its lingering effects have you feeling congested and a little foggy. You’re half expecting this to be a fever dream that you’re moments away from waking up from in a cold sweat.

“—because obviously you know what helps you feel better much more than I do—”

“Jason.”

“And you— yeah?” His eyes are a little harried when they find yours again. But off your tired and still-confused look, he gets the message and collects himself.

“Right, yeah, I just thought that…maybe I could bring you some of the stuff with all those minerals that are supposed to help women when they’re…menstruating.” He briefly breaks eye contact at the end of his sentence, red rouge creeping up his neck.

You can’t help it; you start to giggle. You can’t remember the last time you heard a man use the term ‘menstruating’ in a non-medical context. And the fact that he’s so shy about it— upset as you may be (though not at him), there’s no denying how adorable your boyfriend is. His head shoots back to you as your laughter intensifies. He blushes harder.

“It’s not that funny,” he mutters.

You step away from the door, finally closing the space between you, and wrap your arms around his torso. Your head nestles into his chest. He gently drops the grocery bag on the ground and reciprocates your hug. He rests his chin on your head, which fits perfectly under his. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. You breathe him in.

“Sorry I’m such a mess,” you murmur into his shirt.

He breathes into your hair. “You have nothing to apologize for. And you’re not a mess.”

You look up, chin resting in the space between his collarbones. He looks down at you with a small smile, but some wariness is still etched into his features. Fear of unwittingly upsetting you again. He brings up a hand to push some hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. His hand remains there, toying with the hair that falls below your shoulder.

"Thank you for the food,” you whisper. The moment feels too intimate to speak any other way.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I just…” He imitates your quietness, like his admission is also too vulnerable to say loudly. “I really wanted to see you. And I hated the idea of you feeling bad about yourself, or being in pain. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your eyes feel wet again. The first instinct is to hide your face, maybe press it to his chest once more. But, for some reason, you don’t. You want him to see you like this, messy and emotional and upset. You want him to see every part of you, and you want to see every part of him, the good and the bad.

“You didn’t.” A tear slips past the effort to keep it at bay. He shows no reaction to it, eyes never leaving yours, other than a quick swiping away with his thumb. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. That’s why I was crying. Not because you showed up.”

“That doesn’t seem right. This is nothing. You deserve even more.”

With no words to fully, adequately communicate the blooming in your chest, you stand on your toes, reaching up to him for a kiss. But given his stature, your lips only reach his chin and brush over its underside.

At your quiet whine, he chuckles and leans down to meet you in the middle. The kiss is soft; filled with the innocence of fresh blossoms in the spring, and the sweetness of its borne fruit.

You pull away when a vicious cramp roots you back to the present. Your limps tighten around Jason with a groan.

“I need to go back inside. I’ve been away from my heating pad for too long.”

His shoulders sag when you step away from him. “Oh, um…do you still…want me to leave?”

With a simple exhale of humorous disbelief, you grasp his hand in yours and tug him to your front door. He’s like an excited puppy, eyes brightened and perking up as he grabs the grocery bag and happily trails after you.

He goes straight to the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the counter for you to settle into, then sets the bag on the counter. The ice cream carton has dampened most of the cloth by now, and likely the rest of its contents, but rather than attending to the groceries, his first action is retrieving your heating pad from where it rests on the couch. He unplugs it from the wall outlet and brings it to you. You curl up on the chair with it pressed flat against your lower stomach. It only takes a minute for the pressure in your hips to abate.

Then he moves to the groceries. The ice cream immediately goes in the freezer, and he unloads what’s remaining onto the counter, one by one, and you take note of each item. There’s spinach, carrots, apples, oranges, dark chocolate, some kind of meat wrapped in brown paper, and, strangely enough, an entire block of cheese.

You give him a quizzical look, picking it up to read the label. “You got me…cheddar cheese?”

He retrieves a cutting board and knife from its spot next to the sink, then takes the cheese from you. “Good for certain symptoms.” He slices open the plastic wrapping and cuts out some cubes with skilled efficiency. He does the same with an apple. “They all are,” he says, referring to his entire haul. He completes the makeshift charcuterie board with a couple squares of dark chocolate and slides it across the counter.

You look down at the cutting board, thinking about everything he’s done for you; everything you never even had to ask for. The words sit on your tongue, encaged by your clenched teeth; an admission that coils itself around your spine and squeezes tight, restricts your breathing and pumps your heart at thrice its speed. But you feel yourself welling up again, and the first bout of tears already exhausted you so much that all you can manage is, “I don’t know what to do with all this. I don’t have the energy to make anything good.”

But he just smiles and says, “That’s what I’m here for, honey. Can I make you something?”

You nod. He gets to work. The immediacy of his actions, how he takes no time to decide on a dish or find a recipe, makes you think his previously stated intentions of ‘just dropping this off’ were less genuine than he lead you to believe. Nevertheless, you munch on the snacks he laid out for you and watch him work. The cheese and apples are a surprisingly cohesive combination, the meshing of sweet crispiness and savory creaminess eliciting a contented sigh from you. You try to ignore the way Jason smirks in the corner of your periphery. The chocolate is incredible, yet unfamiliar. You read the label on the packaging: 80% Dark Chocolate with Cherry and Almond Filling. Even if you hadn’t tasted it yet, the quality of the packaging itself would have been enough to let you know that this chocolate is extremely high-quality. Like, special-order-from-Europe quality. Not stop-at-the-grocery-store-on-the-way-home quality.

“Where is this from? Did you buy this today?” You ask him through a mouthful of the rich, melting chocolate.

He doesn’t look up from the carrots he’s dicing. “Uh…no.”

Anyone else would attribute his avoidance of eye-contact to standard kitchen-knife caution. You are not anyone else. You could blindfold him, spin him around ten times, put a sharp knife in his hand, and he could still pull off a perfect julienne. You look closer. His cheeks are dusted with pink.

You let out a laugh. “Jason, you’re not embarrassed about liking fancy chocolate, are you?”

“No! Not at all,” he says, ceasing his chopping. He looks up, but not quite at you.

“Then?”

“��Then’ what?” He asks.

“Then why are you being so shifty right now?” You try to catch his gaze.

“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just chocolate! Do you like it? I’ll bring you more.” He’s stealthy with the way he avoids your eyes; you almost can’t notice how hard he’s trying not to make eye contact.

“Jason!” You reach across the counter, having to rise off the chair slightly, and take his face in your hands, making him look at you. When he does, he wears a sheepish smile.

“It’s…” His removes your hands from his face, holding them in his. He mumbles something, turning his head to the side. But you catch the tail end of it, a goading grin already creeping up your face.

“What was that?” You tilt your ear towards him, exaggerating the action.

“It’s Bruce’s.” He, in turn, exaggerates the enunciation, rolling his eyes at your simpering. “I…found it. In his pantry one day. And I liked it, so I took it. And then I…kept taking it. Every time I visited.”

You pout teasingly. “And you’re ashamed to admit that you think he has good taste in something?”

He doesn’t say anything, only hiding his face in his shoulder. You pull on your intertwined hands and he gets the message, skirting around the kitchen counter to come closer.

“You are so adorable, you know that?” You say. You reach up and pinch his cheeks. He swats your hands away, but there’s no mistaking his broad, childish grin for anything but affection.

He breaks off another square from the chocolate bar and holds it to your lips. You bite off a small portion, then push it back to him. He takes the remaining piece in his mouth and his eyes close for a brief moment as he savors the sweet, tart, and nutty flavors. You simply watch, entranced by him. Then, he kisses you. You lean into it, hands sliding up his shirt to grip the fabric and bring him even closer. His hold finds your waist.

He tastes like cherries and dark chocolate.

He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead on yours, and you want to tell him that. That, and so much more. But from the look on his face, the way his eyes find yours and the tips of his ears have a similar heat to the one in your chest, you can tell he already knows.

when it comes to jason's post-pit-repressed-teenager characterization (aka despite being older he's still as inexperienced and confused and insecure about the world outside of vigilantism and w/ women as a 15 y/o would be) (aka my favorite characterization tee hee), i think that he's mature about periods, knows they're normal and not gross or shameful etc, but still gets shy about saying the actual word, for no other reason than the 'shy around women' part always makes me giggle

also bruce is keeping the chocolate stocked specifically because he knows jason likes it and will keep taking it because he loves his son even if his son doesn't love him (he does he's just in his angsty teen 'i hate this family you don't understand me' phase rn)

divider is from here

quote at the beginning is pablo neruda <3

[amethystarachnid]

Hello, I’d love to request something for you

It’s for Tony and female reader, they are friends with benefits and she ends up getting pregnant, she’s afraid to tell Tony and afraid of his reaction because their arrangement doesn’t involve feelings (but they are so deeply in love with each other already) so she starts getting a little cold with him and Tony gets sad, until one day they decide to talk and reader tells him that she’s pregnant and that she understands if he doesn’t want the baby but Tony is so happy to be a father and to be a father of a baby with the woman he loves 🤍 after the news they will turn into a real couple and be so happy together. Thank you! 🤍

ACCIDENTS HAPPEN - part I

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: spicy, some mixed angst and fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 9k

ᯓ★ Summary: Accidents happen, right? That's what you keep telling yourself the days after the condom broke while you and Tony were...together. Your period doesn't come but you lie to Tony and tell him it as, because he surely doesn't want a kid, right?

ᯓ★ TW(s): a small spicy scene, condom breaks

ᯓ★ Part II

ᯓ★ I love family man Tony so much, matter of fact, I love every character seen as a family man I don't know why lol.

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The fluorescent lights of the Stark Tower kitchen are glaring, but not as much as Tony Stark’s smirk. He’s leaning against the counter, casually sipping coffee like he doesn’t have a single care in the world. But you know better. You see the faint twitch of his lips, the amused glint in his eyes that’s practically begging you to break the silence.

“You’re being weird,” you say, crossing your arms as you lean against the fridge.

“Weird?” he repeats, mock-offended. “I’m drinking coffee in my own kitchen. What’s weird about that?”

You raise an eyebrow. “The way you’re looking at me. Like... like you’re picturing something.”

Tony doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh, I’m definitely picturing something.” He tilts his head, eyes roaming over you in a way that’s anything but subtle. “Something that happened roughly seven hours ago, give or take.”

Heat rushes to your face, and you quickly avert your gaze. Seven hours ago, you’d been in Tony’s bed—or rather, sprawled across it while his hands did things you’re not entirely sure you’ll ever recover from. It’s supposed to be casual, the thing you have with him. No feelings, no strings. Just… stress relief, as Tony had so eloquently put it when this arrangement started.

But Tony Stark has a way of making casual feel like a loaded gun, just waiting to go off.

“Keep it down,” you hiss, glancing toward the door. “Do you want the others to hear?”

Tony raises his eyebrows in mock innocence. “What others? I’m pretty sure we’re alone.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. Instead, you grab an apple from the counter, pretending to be far more interested in it than the infuriating man in front of you. Tony doesn’t move. He just keeps looking at you with that stupid smirk that makes your stomach flip in a way that’s both exhilarating and dangerous.

“You know,” he says after a beat, “if you keep trying to play the ‘nothing to see here’ card, it’s going to make things more obvious.”

“Obvious?” You scoff. “There’s nothing to make obvious.”

Tony sets his mug down and closes the distance between you in two easy steps. You barely have time to react before he’s towering over you, his arms boxing you in against the fridge. His cologne—some kind of absurdly expensive blend that probably costs more than your rent—wraps around you like a second skin.

“Sweetheart,” he says, voice low enough to send shivers down your spine. “I’m a genius. You think I don’t notice the way you look at me when you think no one’s watching?”

“I don’t—”

“Oh, you do.” His lips curve into a smug grin, and damn it, why does he have to look so good doing it? “And let’s not forget how you can’t seem to keep your hands to yourself when we’re alone.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he cuts you off, his voice dropping another octave. “Don’t worry. I like it. But you might want to work on your poker face, darling, because if I can tell, you can bet your ass the others will.”

The implication makes your stomach twist. “They don’t know.”

“Not yet,” Tony agrees. “But I wouldn’t underestimate Romanoff. Or Rogers, for that matter. The guy might be old-fashioned, but he’s not blind.”

You groan, pushing against his chest to create some distance. “This is exactly why we need to keep things… professional in public.”

Tony chuckles, stepping back just enough to let you breathe. “Sure. Professional. That’s exactly the vibe we give off.”

You glare at him. “I’m serious, Tony. If this gets out—”

He interrupts you with a finger pressed to your lips. “Relax. I’m not exactly running my mouth about it. What we do—” He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “—or don’t do—is nobody’s business.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and you hate how easily he gets to you. You know you should say something, maybe call him out for being so infuriatingly cocky, but the words catch in your throat when his hand brushes against your hip, his touch just light enough to make you ache for more.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter.

“And yet, here you are,” he quips, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

Before you can respond—or do something stupid, like kiss him—the sound of footsteps echoes down the hallway. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you shove Tony away, nearly knocking the apple off the counter in your haste to look casual.

The door swings open, and Steve Rogers walks in, his expression as neutral as ever.

“Morning,” he says, nodding at the two of you.

“Morning,” you reply, your voice a little too high-pitched for comfort.

Tony, of course, is the picture of nonchalance. “Cap,” he says, raising his mug in a mock salute. “How’s it going?”

Steve gives him a once-over, his gaze lingering just long enough to make you sweat. But if he notices anything unusual, he doesn’t comment. Instead, he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and heads for the door.

“Training in ten,” he says over his shoulder. “Don’t be late.”

As soon as he’s gone, you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “See? This is why we need to be more careful.”

Tony shrugs, unbothered. “Relax. If anyone could smell trouble, it’d be Rogers. And he didn’t say a word.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t suspect something.”

Tony smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe. But then again, maybe he just thinks you can’t resist my charm.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet…” He steps closer, his voice dropping to that dangerously seductive tone that makes your knees weak. “You keep coming back.”

Before you can respond, he’s gone, sauntering out of the kitchen like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You, on the other hand, are left standing there, your heart racing and your head spinning.

This is going to be harder than you thought.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Tony’s fingers tangle in your hair, his lips trailing hot, demanding kisses down your neck as your back hits the soft sheets of his bed. The city lights outside cast long, flickering shadows across the room, but you barely notice. You’re far too focused on the way Tony’s hands roam your body like he’s memorizing every inch of you, the rough pads of his fingers igniting fire wherever they touch.

"You're incredible," he mutters, his voice thick with reverence and hunger as he leans back to look at you. His gaze rakes over you like you're the most exquisite thing he's ever laid eyes on, and for a moment, you're lost in the intensity of his expression. It's almost too much. Almost.

"You're not so bad yourself," you tease, though your voice comes out breathier than you'd like. It doesn’t matter. Tony doesn’t need words to know what he does to you.

He smirks at your reply, his trademark arrogance mingling with a rawness he rarely lets anyone see. He dives back in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that leaves you dizzy and aching. Everything about him is overwhelming in the best possible way—the taste of his mouth, the scrape of his stubble against your skin, the way his hands grip your hips like he can’t bear the thought of letting you go.

The night is a blur of heated whispers, tangled sheets, and the sound of your name falling from his lips like a prayer. By the time you both collapse back onto the bed, spent and panting, the world feels a little hazier, a little quieter. His arm is draped lazily over your waist, his body warm against yours as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“You’re something else,” he murmurs, his voice soft but edged with that familiar playful lilt.

“So I’ve been told,” you reply, your heart still racing as you close your eyes, letting the moment wash over you.

But then, his hand stills on your hip. There’s a beat of silence, followed by a quiet curse under his breath.

“What?” you ask, your voice sharp with alarm as you sit up slightly to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

Tony doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulls back just enough to inspect the condom in his hand—what’s left of it, anyway. The air between you shifts instantly, the charged intimacy replaced by something colder. His jaw tightens, his gaze flickering to yours, and you don’t need him to say anything to understand.

It broke.

Your stomach twists, panic creeping in around the edges of your mind. You know what this means. You know the risks, the possibilities. And judging by the way Tony is staring at you, his usual confidence momentarily stripped away, he knows too.

“Okay,” you say quickly, sitting up fully and reaching for his hand. “It’s fine. We’ll handle this.”

“Handle it?” he echoes, his tone sharp. His fingers curl into a fist around the useless piece of latex, his frustration evident. “Do you have any idea—”

“Yes,” you interrupt firmly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I know. But freaking out isn’t going to help.”

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his messy hair. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

You place your hand over his, squeezing gently. “I know. But it did, and we’ll deal with it.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his dark eyes searching your face like he’s trying to find something—reassurance, maybe, or some kind of solution to a problem neither of you can undo. Finally, he nods, though his jaw is still tight.

“I’ll take care of it,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm and steady. “I’ll get the pill tomorrow morning. It’s not a big deal.”

His eyebrows shoot up, his expression a mixture of skepticism and concern. “Not a big deal? Y/N—”

“Tony,” you cut him off, your tone firmer now. “I’m serious. It’s fine. These things happen. That’s why emergency contraception exists.”

He doesn’t look convinced. If anything, he looks more agitated, his mind no doubt racing through every worst-case scenario. You can practically see the calculations happening behind his eyes, his genius brain working overtime to solve a problem that can’t be solved with tech or money or wit.

“Hey,” you say softly, reaching up to cup his face. His stubble is rough against your palm, but his skin is warm, grounding. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, he does, his eyes locking with yours. There’s a vulnerability there, buried beneath the layers of charm and bravado he wears like armor. It’s a side of him he rarely lets anyone see, and it makes your chest ache.

“It’s going to be okay,” you say, your voice steady. “I promise.”

He exhales slowly, some of the tension in his shoulders easing at your words. He places his hand over yours, holding it against his cheek like he’s drawing strength from your touch.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” he murmurs, his tone softer now. “This is my fault.”

“It’s not anyone’s fault,” you say firmly. “It just happened. And it’s not the end of the world.”

He studies you for a moment, his gaze searching yours like he’s trying to gauge whether you really believe what you’re saying. You hold his gaze, willing him to see that you’re not afraid—that you’re in control, even if the situation feels precarious.

Finally, he nods again, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Alright,” he says quietly. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you reply, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Now, stop overthinking it and come back to bed.”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re bossy, you know that?”

“Someone has to be,” you tease, lying back down and pulling him with you. He goes willingly, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid to let go.

As you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you feel the tension slowly drain from his body. He still holds you a little tighter than usual, and you know the worry is still there, lurking beneath the surface. But for now, you’re both safe in the quiet cocoon of his bed, and that’s enough.

The morning sunlight spills into the bedroom, cutting through the blinds in thin golden slats. You wake up before Tony, which isn’t unusual. His arm is slung lazily over your waist, and his face is relaxed in a way that makes him look younger, softer—like he’s let go of the weight of the world, if only for a few precious hours.

You slip out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake him. Your feet hit the cold hardwood floor, and you grab one of his shirts from the edge of the bed, slipping it over your bare skin before padding out of the room. The small box you picked up from the pharmacy the night before sits on the kitchen counter, unopened. Your stomach twists as you pick it up, the weight of it heavier than it should be.

It’s not the first time you’ve taken the pill, and logically, you know what to expect. It’s supposed to be a fail-safe, a last resort. But something about the circumstances makes your chest tighten as you swallow the pill with a sip of water. The air feels thicker this morning, heavy with an unspoken tension that you can’t quite shake.

By the time Tony joins you, freshly showered and looking far too put-together for someone who stayed up so late, you’ve shoved the box deep into the trash and plastered on your best neutral expression. He doesn’t mention the pill. He doesn’t ask if you took it, though you know he’s probably been thinking about it. Instead, he leans casually against the counter and makes a joke about the kitchen being out of coffee, his easy demeanor doing little to mask the faint tension in his voice.

You don’t call him out on it. The last thing you want is to drag the conversation back into that same spiral of worry. Instead, you focus on normalcy—breakfast, half-hearted banter, the comforting rhythm of your strange, secret dynamic.

Days pass. A week. Maybe more. At first, you’re fine, brushing off the gnawing anxiety at the back of your mind. But when the calendar flips over to a new month and your period is nowhere to be found, the panic starts to creep in.

You check your phone obsessively, googling every possible explanation that isn’t what you’re afraid of. Stress, you tell yourself. Hormonal shifts. The pill can do this, right? Throw off your cycle? It’s not like your body works on a perfect schedule anyway.

And yet, as the days continue to pass, your chest tightens a little more every morning. The thought of telling Tony lingers at the edge of your mind, a shadow that grows darker every time you push it away. You think back to the night it happened, to the way he looked at you when the condom broke. The frustration, the fear—it’s all burned into your memory, and you’re not sure you can bear to see that look again.

So you don’t tell him.

When he asks casually a week later if “everything’s sorted,” you force yourself to smile and nod. “Yeah,” you say, your voice far steadier than you feel. “It was just a big scare. Everything’s fine now.”

The relief that washes over his face makes your heart sink. He leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as his lips curve into an easy grin. “Good. That’s good.”

He doesn’t realize the way your stomach twists when he says it. He doesn’t notice the faint tremor in your hands as you reach for your coffee cup, your fingers brushing against the ceramic edge like it’s the only thing grounding you.

Tony doesn’t dwell on it after that. He’s good at compartmentalizing—too good, sometimes. Once he’s reassured, the topic is filed away in whatever mental vault he keeps for things he doesn’t want to think about.

But for you, it lingers.

You try to push it down, to bury it beneath layers of distraction. Missions, training, pretending that the world hasn’t shifted beneath your feet. But every time you’re alone, the weight of the lie presses against your chest, making it harder to breathe.

You catch yourself staring at him sometimes, wondering what he would say if you told him the truth. Would he panic? Shut down? Or would he surprise you, the way he sometimes does, with a level of vulnerability that makes your heart ache? You don’t know, and the uncertainty is almost worse than the fear itself.

One night, as the two of you sit curled up on the couch watching some old black-and-white movie he insisted you’d love, you feel the words bubbling up in your throat. The urge to tell him is almost overwhelming, the silence between you stretching thin and taut like a thread about to snap.

“Tony—” you start, but he cuts you off with a lazy smirk, his hand brushing against your thigh.

“You’re not actually paying attention, are you?” he teases, nodding toward the screen.

The moment slips through your fingers like water, and you force a laugh, shaking your head. “Not really,” you admit, though the words feel hollow in your mouth.

He grins, leaning in to kiss your temple. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The warmth of his touch should be comforting, but all you feel is the gnawing guilt in the pit of your stomach.

Days turn into weeks. You’ve never been particularly religious, but you find yourself silently praying every night, begging for some kind of resolution that doesn’t involve your entire world unraveling. You know you can’t keep this up forever. Sooner or later, the truth will come out, whether you want it to or not.

But for now, you cling to the fragile illusion of normalcy, pretending that everything is fine, that the ache in your chest isn’t growing louder with every passing day.

It’s late one evening when the weight of it all finally becomes too much. You’re standing in the bathroom, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your skin looks paler than usual, your eyes shadowed with exhaustion. You press a hand to your stomach, your fingers trembling as you let out a shaky breath.

You can’t do this. You can’t keep pretending.

But when you step out of the bathroom and find Tony sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through something on his tablet with an easy smile on his face, the words die in your throat. He looks so… unburdened, so relieved.

You sit down beside him, your movements stiff and robotic. He glances at you, his expression softening as he sets the tablet aside. “Hey,” he says, his voice low and warm. “You okay?”

You nod, forcing a small smile. “Yeah,” you lie. “I’m fine.”

It’s not fine. None of this is fine. But as Tony wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, you let yourself fall into the comfort of his embrace, even if it feels like it’s built on a crumbling foundation.

Because right now, it’s easier to let him believe the lie than to face the truth.

And for better or worse, you’re not ready to let go of the fragile peace that lie has created. Not yet.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The bathroom feels colder than usual, the air thick with a kind of tension you can almost taste. You’re sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, staring at the small white stick on the sink like it’s a bomb waiting to go off. Your heart pounds so loudly in your chest that it drowns out everything else—the hum of the air conditioning, the distant city sounds drifting through the window, even your own breath.

You’ve been here for what feels like an eternity, though it’s probably only been a few minutes. The instructions on the box said three minutes, but you’re too scared to look. Too scared to confirm what your body has already been hinting at for days.

Your period is ten days late. Ten.

You’ve always been irregular—stress, missions, even the pill you took that morning can throw your cycle off—but ten days? That’s more than a delay. That’s a sign.

You’re holding your breath, your hands clenched tightly around the fabric of your pajama pants. You want to stand up, to take that final step and see the result, but your legs won’t move. You’re frozen, caught between the urge to know and the overwhelming fear of what you might find.

When you finally gather the courage to stand, your knees feel shaky, like they might buckle under you. You lean over the sink, your trembling hand reaching for the pregnancy test. It takes everything in you to flip it over, to look at the little window that holds the answer to the question you’ve been too terrified to ask.

Two lines.

Positive.

You blink, your breath catching in your throat as the reality of it sinks in. For a moment, you feel like the ground beneath you has shifted, like the whole world has tilted on its axis. This can’t be real. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

And yet, as you stare at those two little lines, a strange, unexpected feeling blooms in your chest. It’s faint, fragile, but it’s there—happiness.

Your hand flies to your mouth as tears spill down your cheeks. You don’t even know why you’re crying. Is it shock? Fear? Joy? Maybe it’s all of it, a tangled knot of emotions you can’t begin to unravel.

You sink to the floor, your back against the cold bathroom tile, clutching the test in your hands like it’s a lifeline. Tears blur your vision, but you don’t wipe them away. You just sit there, letting the wave of emotions crash over you.

You love him. That’s the thought that breaks through the chaos in your mind, clear and undeniable. You love Tony Stark. Of course, you do. You’ve loved him for longer than you care to admit, longer than this arrangement of yours has been going on. And now, you’re carrying a piece of him inside you—a tiny, fragile piece that terrifies you and fills you with a strange, aching kind of hope all at once.

But then the fear creeps back in, sharp and insistent.

You think about the way he reacted that morning after the condom broke, the tension in his shoulders, the way he’d paced like he was trying to solve an unsolvable equation. You think about the relief that washed over his face when you lied and told him your period had come.

He doesn’t want this.

The thought makes your chest ache, the tears coming faster now. You know Tony. You know the walls he’s built around himself, the way he keeps people at arm’s length, even when he’s letting them into his bed. You know how hard he fights to keep control over his life, his world, his emotions.

A baby? That’s not part of his plan. Hell, you’re not even part of his plan. You’re supposed to be casual, no strings, no complications. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

And yet, here you are, clutching a pregnancy test and crying alone in the bathroom, trying to figure out how you’re supposed to navigate this new reality.

You can’t tell him. The thought hits you like a punch to the gut, but you know it’s true. You can’t tell Tony. Not now. Not when you can still see the relief in his eyes from the last time you reassured him that everything was fine.

He’ll leave. The thought makes your stomach twist painfully, but you can’t shake it. If you tell him, he’ll panic. He’ll shut down, pull away, and you’ll lose him completely. And as much as the idea of raising a child on your own terrifies you, the thought of losing Tony is worse.

So you don’t tell him.

You wipe your tears, setting the test on the counter with shaking hands. Your reflection in the mirror looks haunted, your eyes red and puffy, your cheeks streaked with tears. You take a deep breath, splashing cold water on your face in a futile attempt to calm yourself. You need to pull it together. You need to figure out what comes next.

But for now, all you can do is stand there, staring at your reflection, trying to reconcile the life you thought you had with the one that’s suddenly, irrevocably changed.

The door to the bedroom creaks open, and your heart leaps into your throat. You scramble to compose yourself, swiping at your eyes and plastering on a shaky smile just as Tony’s voice drifts into the bathroom.

“Hey, you alright in there?” he asks, his tone casual but laced with concern.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to sound normal. “Yeah,” you call back, your voice only wavering slightly. “Just… needed a minute.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he hums softly, like he’s satisfied with your answer. “Well, don’t take too long. I ordered breakfast, and you know how I feel about eating alone.”

You let out a weak laugh, your chest tightening at the sound of his voice. “Be right there.”

When you step out of the bathroom a few minutes later, your face freshly washed and your expression carefully neutral, Tony’s already sprawled on the bed with a plate of food balanced precariously on his lap. He grins when he sees you, patting the spot beside him like nothing’s changed.

And for now, you let yourself fall into the illusion of normalcy, even as the weight of your secret presses heavily against your chest.

The air between you and Tony shifts subtly at first—so small, so gradual, that neither of you comments on it. Nights that once burned hot now fizzle out before they even begin. The once-electric tension, the playful banter that led to tangled sheets and breathless laughter, is replaced by something colder. It’s you who pulls away first. At first, it’s subtle—an excuse here, a brush-off there. “I’m not in the mood tonight,” you say, avoiding his eyes as you sit on the edge of the bed, a little too far from him.

Tony lets it go. He always does.

He’s not the type to push, and you know he’s trying to respect your space. But as the days stretch into weeks, your distance becomes harder to ignore. Every time he reaches for you, his touch hesitant but hopeful, you step just a little further out of his reach. It’s not that you don’t want him—god, you want him more than ever. But every time he’s close, every time his lips brush against your skin or his voice drops into that low, teasing tone that always used to make you weak, you feel the weight of your secret pressing down on you like a stone.

You don’t know how to face him, how to look him in the eye without feeling like a liar. So you pull away.

Tony notices. Of course he notices.

At first, he thinks it’s stress. You’ve been juggling missions, the chaos of your lives, the constant push and pull of being in the public eye while trying to keep your relationship—whatever it is—a secret. Stress makes sense. It’s logical, explainable. But as time goes on, and your coldness toward him hardens into something sharper, something unrelenting, the doubts creep in.

It’s late one night, and Tony’s lying in bed alone, staring up at the ceiling as the soft glow of the arc reactor casts faint, shifting patterns on the walls. You’re not there. You’d excused yourself earlier, claiming you were tired, but instead of lying down beside him like you used to, you’d retreated to the living room.

He wants to follow you, to ask what’s wrong, to tell you he misses you even though he knows it’s not the kind of thing you say to someone who’s supposed to be a casual fling. But he doesn’t. He stays in bed, his chest tight, his mind spinning with every possible explanation for your sudden distance.

Maybe you’re over him. The thought sends a sharp pang through his chest, but he doesn’t let himself dwell on it. People lose interest all the time. It’s normal. Expected.

But then there’s another thought, one that he tries to push down but can’t quite ignore: Maybe there’s someone else.

He hates the idea of it. Hates the way his stomach twists every time it crosses his mind. But the way you’ve been avoiding him, the way you’ve stopped laughing at his jokes, stopped touching him, stopped letting him touch you—it all feels like proof that he’s losing you.

The thing is, Tony Stark isn’t good at feelings. He’s spent his whole life hiding behind sarcasm, distractions, and whatever shiny piece of tech he can throw together to keep people from seeing the cracks beneath the surface. But you? You’ve always been different. You’re the one person who makes him feel like he doesn’t have to pretend, like he doesn’t have to be “Iron Man” all the time.

And that scares him. Because if he loses you, he doesn’t know how to go back to the person he was before.

He tries to bridge the gap one night. It’s been weeks since you let him touch you the way he used to, weeks since the warmth of your body pressed against his in the dark. So he decides to take a chance.

“Y/N,” he says softly, his voice tentative as he steps into the living room where you’re curled up on the couch, your knees drawn to your chest.

You glance up at him, your expression guarded, and his chest tightens.

“Hey,” he continues, trying to keep his tone light, casual, like he’s not unraveling inside. “I was thinking we could—” He hesitates, the words catching in his throat. “You know. Watch a movie or something.”

You smile faintly, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m not really in the mood, Tony.”

It’s the same excuse you’ve been giving him for weeks now, and it stings just as much as it did the first time. He nods, stepping back like he’s been burned.

“Right,” he says, his voice clipped. “Of course. You’re… busy.”

You feel the weight of his disappointment, and it makes your stomach twist with guilt. You want to reach out, to tell him the truth, but the words won’t come. You’re too scared—scared of what he’ll say, scared of what he won’t say.

Tony doesn’t press the issue. He never does. Instead, he retreats back to the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. But you know him well enough to know he’s hurting. You’ve seen the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes anymore, the way he avoids looking at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

You hate it. You hate yourself for causing it.

But every time you think about telling him the truth, about letting him into the tangled mess of emotions you’re drowning in, the memory of his relief when he thought everything was fine stops you. You can’t bear the thought of seeing that same relief again, of watching him pull away from you because this—whatever this is—was never supposed to be more than just sex.

The problem is, it’s so much more for you. It always has been. And the thought of him not feeling the same way, of him walking away when he finds out about the baby, is enough to keep you silent.

So you stay distant, building walls around yourself even as your heart breaks every time you see him. And Tony, for all his brilliance, doesn’t know how to break through them.

It’s late when Tony finally breaks. The night air is cool, flowing in through the windows of the lab as he works, tinkering with something that doesn’t need fixing but still allows him to focus on something other than the gnawing feeling that’s been growing in his gut for the past few weeks.

He can’t ignore it any longer.

You’ve been so distant, so closed off. Every time he reaches for you, you pull away, your smile strained, your touch hesitant. He knows something’s wrong. You’ve been avoiding him—more than usual—and it’s like the light that once sparked in your eyes when you were around him has dimmed. You’re still there, physically, but emotionally? Mentally? He’s losing you, and he doesn’t know why.

At first, he thought it was just stress. You’ve both been running at full speed with everything going on in your lives—missions, the Avengers, the constant media circus that surrounds everything you do. But as the weeks have stretched on, and you’ve pulled further into yourself, Tony’s mind starts to wonder. He tries to brush it off, tries to tell himself that maybe you’re just going through something, or maybe you’ve just gotten tired of the arrangement you two have been navigating.

But that would mean he’s losing you, and the thought of that makes his chest ache.

He’s pacing now, a strange sense of urgency growing inside him. He can’t keep pretending everything’s fine. He can’t pretend he hasn’t noticed the way you flinch when he touches you, how you go out of your way to make excuses not to be close, to keep that emotional distance between you. It hurts. It cuts deeper than any physical wound he’s had, and if he doesn’t get to the bottom of it, he feels like he might lose himself entirely.

Without thinking, Tony heads toward the living room, his footsteps heavy as he approaches the place you’ve been hiding out in for the past hour. He’s not sure what he expects when he opens the door, but he knows he needs answers.

When you look up at him from the couch, curled up with a book in your hands, he sees it again—the sadness behind your eyes, the coldness in the way you hold yourself. It’s been so long since you’ve looked at him like that, and it hurts more than he’s willing to admit.

“Y/N,” he starts, his voice more strained than he meant it to be, “We need to talk.”

You blink at him, like you were expecting him to say something else, something easier to hear. But instead, you set the book down, letting out a long breath. “What about?”

Tony steps closer, his brow furrowed in frustration, eyes searching yours for any sign of the woman he once knew. “You’re not fine. I know you’re not. And I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay between us when it’s not.”

You open your mouth as if you’re about to say something, but the words die on your tongue. You’re not ready to tell him, not yet, but Tony’s insistent stare makes you feel like you don’t have a choice.

“Please, just tell me what’s going on. I—” He cuts himself off, not sure if he’s about to confess something he isn’t ready for. “I hate this distance between us. I hate how you’ve been avoiding me, and I’m not going to let you shut me out. Not when I know something’s wrong. So please, just tell me.”

You stand slowly, turning away from him, eyes cast down to the floor as you try to steady your breathing. You know you can’t keep this secret any longer. He deserves to know, but you’re terrified of his reaction. Terrified that he’ll leave, or worse, that he’ll shut you out just like you’ve been doing to him.

“I—” you start, your voice cracking slightly as you turn back to face him, your words hanging in the air like a fragile glass balloon ready to pop. “Tony, I’m… I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, the room feels impossibly still. The sound of your heart pounding in your chest is louder than anything else. Tony’s face doesn’t change immediately, and for a second, you wonder if he’s even heard you. Maybe he didn’t catch it, didn’t really understand what you just said.

But then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the shock flicker across his face, his mouth opening as if he’s about to speak but nothing comes out.

The silence between you both stretches, and you hate it. You hate the tension that fills the space where once there was laughter, banter, comfort. You take a deep breath, the weight of your confession settling on your shoulders like an anchor, and you brace yourself for his response.

“I know you don’t want this,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I saw the way you reacted when I told you my period had come. You were relieved, and I know that means you don’t want a kid. And I—”

But Tony doesn’t let you finish. He’s already moved toward you, his expression softening, and before you even realize it, his hand is gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear you didn’t know had fallen.

“Y/N,” he interrupts, his voice quieter now, but his words are firm, like he’s trying to make you understand something important. “I wasn’t relieved because I didn’t want the baby. I was relieved because I remember you saying you didn’t want kids right now.” He lets out a shaky laugh, almost embarrassed by the way his own words feel in his mouth. “I guess I got scared for a second, thinking this was all happening too fast, but it wasn’t about not wanting a kid. It was about… us. About where we are in life. I wasn’t sure if you were ready for this, for everything that comes with it.”

You stare at him, blinking as the shock of his words sinks in. For a moment, all you can do is stand there, trying to process what he’s saying. He’s not angry. He’s not freaking out. He’s—he’s relieved? And then the smile that spreads across his face is one you’ve never seen before. It’s so full of hope, of joy, that it almost knocks the wind out of you.

“You’re happy?” you whisper, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to sound steady.

Tony’s grin widens, and his eyes are shining with something so genuine, so raw, that it’s impossible for you to look away. “You have no idea,” he says, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “I’ve wanted this. I’ve wanted to be a dad for a while now. I’m happy, Y/N. I’m so happy.”

The air between you both changes instantly. The heavy weight that’s been pressing down on your chest—your fear, your anxiety—lifts just a little. You feel like you can breathe again, the walls you’d built around yourself crumbling with every word he speaks.

You look up at him, your own smile breaking through the uncertainty, and before you can stop it, the words spill out. “I think I’m happy too, Tony.”

Tony’s expression softens, his eyes softening as he reaches for you, pulling you into an embrace so tight it almost feels like he’s never letting you go. You bury your face in his chest, your heart racing with a mix of emotions—relief, happiness, fear, but most of all, love.

“You’re not alone in this,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “We’re doing this together. Okay?”

You nod against him, your arms wrapping around his waist as if you never want to let go. “Okay,” you whisper, a quiet laugh escaping you as the weight of the moment finally settles in. “Together.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself believe it. You let yourself believe that no matter what comes next, you won’t be facing it alone.

Later that night, after the quiet joy of shared smiles and whispered promises had filled the room, the weight of the moment seemed to settle in more than ever. The excitement, the relief, the joy of the baby—all of that felt real now. But there was still one thing neither of you had addressed. The question that hung in the air just as heavily as it always had: What are we?

You weren’t sure when it started. When the blurred lines between “friends with benefits” and something more had begun to form, but you knew it was there now. It had always been there, from the moment his lips had first brushed against yours, from the first time you’d shared something deeper than just casual touch. The emotional attachment had crept in slowly, quietly, and for a long time, you had tried to ignore it.

But now, with a baby on the way and the delicate balance of your secret relationship on the verge of shifting, there was no denying it any longer.

Tony had been unusually quiet after the rush of emotions had faded, after you both had settled into your shared space on the couch, your legs tangled beneath a blanket. You’d both exchanged small touches, playful nudges, and soft words of reassurance, but as the night wore on, the air between you thickened again, and you both knew what was coming.

Tony wasn’t the type to shy away from hard conversations, especially not when it came to the things that mattered most to him. And now, with the future of your relationship hanging in the balance, he had to know: where do you two stand?

“Y/N,” he starts, breaking the comfortable silence that had wrapped itself around the two of you, his voice low, hesitant. “We need to talk about… us.”

You glance up at him, your heart picking up speed at the seriousness in his tone. He’s not looking at you now, not like before, when his eyes had been filled with a bright, carefree joy. No, now his gaze is intense, studying you in a way that makes you feel exposed. Vulnerable.

“I know,” you reply softly, the words almost a whisper, your fingers absently tracing the edge of the blanket. You’re nervous now, your chest tight, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. After everything that’s happened, after the whirlwind of emotions surrounding the pregnancy, now comes the quiet storm that you’ve been avoiding. The talk about what your relationship is—what it could be.

Tony shifts, his body language tense. “We’ve been doing this for a while now—casual, no strings, no commitment. But now… this changes everything.” He lets out a breath, rubbing his hands over his face as if trying to wipe away the uncertainty. “I can’t help but wonder if we’ve been fooling ourselves, pretending we’re just two people with a little arrangement. I need to know if you feel the same way I do.”

Your stomach flips at the sincerity in his voice. The seriousness of it all hits you in a way you weren’t expecting. You’ve always been good at keeping things light, at pretending that this thing between you both was just about fun, just about the thrill of being together without the complications of a real relationship. But now, with the baby coming, everything has changed.

Tony continues, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t know about you, but… I’m not just some guy you hook up with and then move on from. That’s not what I want anymore. I never thought I’d say this, but I—I want more than that with you. I think I’ve wanted more for a long time, even before we got here, and now… with the baby, I don’t know how to act like we’re just two friends. I can’t.”

You swallow, the knot in your throat tightening, making it harder to speak. You want to say the right thing, but you don’t even know what that is anymore. For so long, you’ve kept the walls up, kept yourself detached from him, from the idea of ever needing more than just him in your bed, in your life.

But now, after everything that’s happened—the broken condom, the shock of the pregnancy test, the tenderness of his touch, the way he looks at you now—you can’t pretend anymore. You know what you feel. You’ve known for a while.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice trembling. You can’t stop the truth from slipping out, and for the first time in a long while, you let yourself be honest with him. “I’ve been so scared, Tony. I was scared to let myself feel more than just… this. I didn’t want to be vulnerable. I didn’t want to fall for you, but I did. And now, with this… I don’t know what that means for us.”

He leans in, his hand coming to rest gently on your knee, grounding you with the warmth of his touch. “It means we figure it out. Together.”

You meet his gaze then, really look at him, and for the first time since all of this started, you feel the fear melt away, replaced by something that feels like hope, like relief. Maybe it’s too soon to figure everything out—maybe the fear will still be there tomorrow, when you wake up and face the reality of being parents together. But right now, in this moment, you realize that whatever comes next, you’re not alone.

“I’ve never wanted anything more than this,” Tony murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want us, Y/N. I want this—whatever it is—if it’s with you.”

Tears well in your eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. “Are you sure? Because, Tony, this is… a lot. We’re talking about everything changing. Our whole lives—”

“I know,” he interrupts, cutting you off softly. “But that’s the thing, Y/N. It’s supposed to change. It’s supposed to be big. And it’s gonna be scary. But I’d rather be scared with you than pretend we’re okay with something less.”

You smile, the tears now flowing freely down your cheeks, but they’re not tears of fear anymore. They’re tears of relief, of joy. “I feel the same,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want anything else either. I want us.”

The air shifts around you both. The weight of everything that’s been left unsaid, the uncertainty, the fear, all of it starts to dissipate in the wake of your words. In the silence that follows, there’s a quiet understanding that passes between you, something unspoken but deep. You’re not just two friends anymore. You’re something more. Something real. Something that might still be terrifying, but you’re willing to take that step together.

Tony leans in, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “We’re gonna figure this out, Y/N. We’ll do it together, okay? All of it. No more running from it. No more pretending.”

You nod, closing your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the peace of knowing that he feels the same way. For the first time, you don’t feel the need to guard yourself, to hold back. Whatever happens next, you know you’ll face it with him by your side.

And for the first time in months, you allow yourself to feel the hope that the future might not be so terrifying after all.

“Together,” you whisper back, your voice full of resolve.

“Together,” Tony agrees, his smile softening as he leans back into the couch beside you. You both sit there for a long moment, the world outside forgotten, the future uncertain but no longer so intimidating. With each other, you feel ready for whatever comes next.

The decision to tell the Avengers comes surprisingly easy, though Tony initially overcomplicates it—as is his style. He drafts no fewer than six different ways to break the news, each one more elaborate than the last, from a staged press conference to a spontaneous "Oops, did we drop a clue?" moment during dinner. Ultimately, it’s you who insists on something simple: just sitting everyone down and saying it outright.

The team gathers in the common area after a particularly grueling mission briefing. Steve sits on one side, arms crossed in casual curiosity, while Natasha and Clint exchange knowing looks, as if they’ve already pieced together whatever you’re about to say. Thor leans back with an air of amused disinterest, and Bruce glances between you and Tony with a subtle frown, clearly trying to deduce what’s happening.

Tony clears his throat, standing with his hands shoved into his pockets—a nervous habit you’ve grown to recognize. You sit beside him, trying not to laugh at the way he fidgets like a kid preparing to confess he’s broken something.

“So,” Tony begins, his voice smooth but a little too loud, “we’ve got some news. Something big, something life-altering. Not world-ending, don’t worry—though it is arguably more exciting than an alien invasion or a helicarrier falling out of the sky.”

“Get to the point,” Natasha cuts in, raising an eyebrow, though her smirk betrays her amusement.

Tony glances at you, and you take his hand, offering him a reassuring squeeze. You look at the group, your heart racing but a soft smile playing on your lips. “We’re together,” you say simply, “and… we’re having a baby.”

The room falls silent for a beat, and then chaos ensues.

Clint immediately lets out a loud, theatrical “Called it!” while Thor booms a congratulatory cheer, clapping Tony on the back so hard he almost topples forward. Natasha simply smirks, her sharp eyes flickering with something close to approval. Steve blinks once, then twice, before nodding with a small smile. “Well,” he says, “it’s about time.”

Bruce, for his part, is the most measured. “Congratulations,” he says warmly, his expression soft as he looks between the two of you. “That’s… big news. You’ll both be great parents.”

Tony, who thrives on reactions, looks around at the mix of responses, a crooked grin spreading across his face. “Wait, that’s it? No one’s shocked? No dramatic gasps? No ‘Tony Stark, settling down, what has the world come to?’”

Natasha tilts her head. “We’re not blind, Tony.”

“And you’re not exactly subtle,” Clint adds with a laugh. “The sneaking around was cute at first, but come on. The looks? The way you guys act around each other? It was only a matter of time.”

You laugh, leaning into Tony’s side as he rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it. He doesn’t care if they saw it coming—he only cares that you’re here, by his side, sharing this moment with him.

As the weeks pass and your belly starts to grow, Tony’s excitement becomes something of a full-time personality trait. He’s protective in a way that sometimes makes you laugh and sometimes makes you roll your eyes—like when he insists on scanning the ingredients of every snack you eat or hovering too closely while you climb the stairs.

“Tony, I’m pregnant, not fragile,” you remind him one evening when he’s fussing over your attempt to carry a laundry basket up from the bedroom.

“Yeah, well, you’re carrying my kid,” he retorts, taking the basket from your hands with a flourish. “And I’m not taking any chances.”

But it’s not just the protectiveness. There’s something else, something deeper. Every day, he seems more in love—not just with you, but with the idea of the life you’re building together. He tells you often how beautiful you are, how the so-called “pregnancy glow” makes you shine brighter than any reactor core he’s ever built. And when he’s not busy marveling at you, he’s completely, utterly enchanted by the baby growing inside you.

Tony spends hours talking to your belly, as if the baby can already hear and understand him. He lays his head against your stomach whenever he can, his voice soft and full of wonder as he murmurs stories about the world, about your life together, about the adventures waiting for the little one.

“You know,” he says one evening, his hand resting gently on your belly as he leans in close, “you’ve got it pretty good in there, kid. Mom’s amazing. She’s brilliant, and funny, and stubborn as hell—you’ll learn that soon enough. And me? Well, I’m not so bad either. We’re gonna be a great team, the three of us.”

You watch him, your heart swelling at the sight of the man who, not so long ago, had been the epitome of carefree, refusing to be tied down. Now, he’s the man who can’t wait to be a dad, who looks at you like you’re his entire world.

“I think they’ll be lucky to have you,” you say softly, running your fingers through his hair as he continues to talk to your belly.

Tony looks up at you, his expression tender. “Nah,” he replies, his voice teasing but warm. “They’ll be lucky to have you. I’m just along for the ride.”

You laugh, leaning down to kiss him, and he smiles against your lips, his hand never leaving your belly. Moments like this are becoming your new normal—quiet, intimate, filled with the kind of love that feels like it’s been there all along, waiting for the right time to bloom.

As the baby kicks for the first time a few weeks later, Tony’s excitement is nothing short of infectious. He whoops loudly, startling you for a moment before his hand immediately presses against your stomach again, his grin wide and boyish.

“Did you feel that?” he exclaims, his eyes lighting up as he looks at you.

You nod, tears springing to your eyes as you smile. “Yeah,” you whisper, your hand covering his. “I felt it.”

“That’s my kid,” he says proudly, leaning down to kiss your belly. “Already making an entrance.”

You can’t help but laugh, your heart full to bursting. In moments like this, it’s hard to remember why you ever doubted this—why you ever doubted him. Tony Stark, for all his flaws, is everything you never knew you needed. And now, as you prepare to welcome the biggest adventure of your lives together, you know one thing for sure: you’re in this together, every step of the way.

[fireinmoonshot]

“You always know the exact temperature I like my baths at.” would be so cute with joaquin

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Reader Warnings: Reader has a period, mentions of cramps and painkillers and also mentions of food. Word Count: 557 A/N: I used to write little drabbles like this based on dialogue prompts ages ago and I thought it might be fun to do it again for when I don't feel like doing a longer fic or finding photos to use as a header 😅 Thank you for sending in this request. I reblogged a bunch of dialogue prompts earlier if anyone else wants to request anything! I also still have requests open for other requests.

By the end of your work day, you’re exhausted. Having to deal with other peoples issues all day and hearing your coworkers argue in the break room has taken all energy out of you. The fact that you’re on your period makes it even more unbearable.

You’re thankful, at least, for your boyfriend.

The second you walk in the front door, kicking off your shoes, he’s in front of you, pulling you into his arms and giving you a hug. He presses his lips to your forehead before pulling away. Even from just the look on your face he can tell that you’ve had a bad day.

Joaquin’s intuitive nature is one of your favourite things about him. It’s why you’re not really surprised when he takes one of your hands in his and starts dragging you down the hallway towards your bedroom, then through it to your bathroom.

“I just had a feeling,” he explains as he shows you the full bath tub. “I just finished running it like two seconds before you walked in the front door so it wouldn’t get cold.”

You look up at him, sticking your bottom lip out a bit. “You didn’t have to do this…”

He wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his forehead on your shoulder and placing his hands on your stomach where he knows you’re suffering from cramps despite the painkillers you’d taken for them.

“Angel, you’ve been at work all day and dealing with pain that I know would probably knock me to my knees if it were me feeling it,” he murmurs in your ear. “The least I can do is run you a hot bath to relax at the end of your day. Oh, and I just put some apple empanadas in the oven as we speak. They should be out by the time you’re done.”

You turn around into his arms, burying your face into his chest. He chuckles, rubbing his hands up and down your back. He’s missed the feeling of hugging you while you’ve been at work all day. If he could bottle up a feeling, it’d be this one. 

“I love you,” you mutter as you pull away from his arms and step towards the bath.

“I love you too, angel.”

You shrug off your coat and hand it to Joaquin so you can dip your hand in the water and not get the sleeve of it wet. The feeling of the warm water on your skin makes you even more thankful for Joaquin. “You always know the exact temperature I like my baths at…”

He smiles over at you as you start getting undressed so you can enjoy your bath and be ready for the empanadas once they’re done cooking. “That bath thermometer I bought is coming in handy, hey?” 

Joaquin picks up your clothes as you shed them on the floor and watches as you sink into the bath. He almost wishes he could join you, but if he did he’s sure the empanadas would burn and he’s also sure you want your alone time after the day you’ve had.

“Just call out if you need me, okay?” He says, stepping towards you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m gonna go put on a load of washing and check on dessert.”

[byechristopher]

hellooo can you write a fic where reader and chris have a pregnancy scare?

what could be.

Author's note: thank you for the request, and sorry for being so late, pft. I hope you like it anon, here is an angsty/fluffy fic with Chris. Him and babies make me giddy fr. Don't copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: uhm, none. But y'all.. use protection always. Didn't proofread!

⠀

It started with a simple sentence, one that hung in the air like a grenade waiting to go off.

"My period’s a week late."

Chris froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. The casual dinner we were having, sitting on the couch like we always did, suddenly felt like something fragile, ready to shatter. His face went pale as he put his fork down, staring at me like he hadn’t quite understood what I’d just said.

"What?" His voice was flat, cold.

I shifted uncomfortably, already regretting saying anything. "I’m late, Chris. A week late."

He sat back, his eyes narrowing as if he could will this entire conversation out of existence. "Are you serious?"

I nodded. "I thought it was just stress at first, but…"

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, running a hand through his hair, the frustration already palpable. "How could this happen?"

The way he said it — like it was some personal failure, like this was my fault, made my blood run cold.

"Uhm, now I don't mean to break it to you.." I snapped, my voice rising defensively, "but we were both there, remember?"

"Yeah, well, you’re the one who keeps track of this stuff, right? Shouldn’t you have known?" His voice was sharp, accusatory, and it stung.

I stood up from the couch, the tension in my body rising like a tidal wave, "what the actual fuck are you even saying? You think I want this to be happening? You think this is something I wanted to deal with right now?"

Chris got up too, pacing in the small living room, his hands clenched at his sides, "no, I don’t know what the hell you want! All I know is, we’re not ready for this. We can’t be dealing with a fucking baby right now."

I felt the familiar lump forming in my throat, but I swallowed it down, refusing to let him see how much his words hurt. "Chris, we’re in this together, okay? Why are you acting like I did something wrong?"

"Because this is—" He stopped, running his hands over his face. "This changes everything, okay? Everything we’ve been working for. All our plans, all our.. us!"

"What, and a baby ruins all that?" I cut him off, my voice shaking with anger. "Is that what you think? That this would ruin everything?"

He didn’t answer right away, and the silence that followed was louder than any argument we’d ever had. He just stood there, staring at the floor, and I couldn’t tell if he was thinking or trying to come up with a way to end this conversation without making it worse.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "Yeah. I think it would."

I blinked, feeling like I’d been slapped. I could feel my heart racing, the adrenaline pushing through me, making me feel sick. "Wow," I whispered, stepping back like I needed space from him, like I couldn’t stand being near him right now. "That’s really how you fucking feel?"

He looked up, his face tight with frustration. "We’re not ready for this. You know that. You’ve got your career just starting to take off, I’m still figuring things out. It’s not the right time."

"You don’t get to decide that for both of us," I shot back, my voice cracking under the weight of the argument. "This is happening, whether you like it or not. What are you going to do if I am pregnant? Walk away?"

Chris’s eyes flashed with something—maybe guilt, maybe regret, I couldn’t tell. "I’m not walking away," he said through gritted teeth, "but I’m not going to pretend like I’m okay with this either."

I didn’t say anything else. I couldn’t. The hurt and anger tangled up inside me was too much, and if I opened my mouth again, I didn’t trust what would come out. Instead, I turned and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, his silence chasing me as I went.

For the next day and a half, we barely spoke. Every interaction was charged, electric with the weight of what had been said and left unsaid. He slept on the couch that night, and I didn’t bother asking him to come back to bed. I wasn’t sure I wanted him there.

The test sat on the bathroom counter, waiting for me, taunting me with the unknown. I couldn’t bring myself to take it, not when things between us felt so raw, so fragile. But after another restless night of tossing and turning, I couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore. I had to know.

When I walked into the living room that morning, Chris was sitting on the couch, staring blankly at his phone. He looked up when I entered, and for a second, there was something in his eyes—regret, maybe. Or guilt. I couldn’t tell.

"I’m taking the test," I said, my voice flat.

He stood up, nodding stiffly. "I’ll come with you."

"Yeah, you don't fucking have to." I said, but he followed me either way.

We walked to the bathroom in silence, and I grabbed the box off the counter with shaking hands. Chris stood by the door, watching me, his expression unreadable. I couldn’t even look at him as I went through the motions, my stomach twisting into knots.

When it was done, we sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the result. The timer on my phone ticked down, each second stretching out longer than the last.

"I’ve been thinking," Chris said suddenly, his voice softer than it had been in days. I glanced at him, unsure of what to expect.

"About what?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "About everything. About what I said… how I reacted."

I remained silent.

He hesitated before continuing, "I was scared, okay? I still am. I’m terrified, actually. But… I’ve been thinking. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing."

I blinked, surprised. "What?"

He looked at me, his expression softer now, more open. "I’m not saying it’d be easy. But if you are pregnant, I mean… we’d figure it out, right? We’d get through it."

For the first time in days, I felt a tiny flicker of hope. "You really think so?"

He nodded, his gaze steady on mine. "Yeah. I don’t want to be that guy who just freaks out and runs away. If it happens, I want to be there for you. For both of you."

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. Maybe we’d been fighting, maybe we were scared, but hearing him say that made me feel like we could actually do this, if we had to.

"And if I really think about it.." he continued, his thumb on my cheek caressing the skin so gently, as if I was a porcelain doll, "the idea of having a little baby with you that looks just like their mom.. yeah, I think I'm fine with that." he teased with a little smile and that's all I needed to hear.

The timer went off, the sharp beep cutting through the air. We both froze, looking at each other.

"Do you want to…?" Chris asked, nodding toward the bathroom.

I shook my head. "You can look."

He stood up, walking over to the counter, his movements slow and hesitant. I watched him as he picked up the test, his face unreadable. For a moment, he just stared at it, not saying anything.

Finally, he looked up at me, his expression a mixture of relief and something else I couldn’t quite place. "It’s negative."

I let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the world lift off my shoulders. "Negative?"

He nodded, setting the test down and walking back over to me. "Yeah. You’re not pregnant."

Relief washed over me, but there was something else too. Something that felt almost like disappointment. I pushed it down, not wanting to think too much about it.

Chris sat down beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I’m sorry," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "For how I acted. I didn’t handle any of this well."

I leaned into him, closing my eyes as I let the warmth of his embrace chase away the last remnants of fear. "It’s okay," I murmured. "We’re okay."

"Is it crazy that I've started to warm up to the idea?" he whispered against my hair and even though I didn't want a baby, I still felt giddy hearing him say that.

"Your mood swings are acting up." I teased and buried my face into the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss there, "although.. so did I." I whispered.

[leighsartworks216]

Christmas Suprises

Zayne x AFAB!Reader

When I say I don't enjoy pregnancy fics or proposal fics, I NEED you to believe me cuz WHY did this fester in my brain until I put it down in a doc

Warnings: Christmas, fluff, domestic fluff, unplanned pregnancy, marriage proposal, crying, literal sleeping together, cuddling, anxiety

Word Count: 2,514

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You stare down at the little white stick, mouth falling open in shock. You can’t even hear the grating alarm of your phone going off anymore, or the eager knocking on the bathroom door. It’s like your mind hasn’t caught up to your body yet. You don’t think about reaching out and opening the door; your body just does it.

“Well?” Tara asks excitedly. “Yes or no?”

The world around you comes back into focus. You blindly paw at your phone screen to hit the button to shut up its alarm. You think your hand is shaking when you look up at your friend.

“It says… I’m pregnant.”

She squeals and throws her arms around your neck, bouncing on her feet, bursting with joy. “Congratulations! Oh, I’m so happy for you!”

You cling onto her. She doesn’t seem to mind, even as you wipe your eyes over her shoulder and sniffle by her ear.

You can’t believe it. You’re actually pregnant. You really, really are. You’re going to have a baby. You’re going to have a baby.

Tara pulls away with a gasp. “How are you gonna tell him?” she asks conspiratorially.

“God, I have no idea.” You stare at the two pink lines on the stick. Pregnant. “He doesn’t even know I’m late for my period, Tara. How am I-?”

“Oh, oh, I know! Tell him on Christmas!”

“On Christmas? Are you sure? I mean, what if he doesn’t want kids? We’ve never talked about it before.” You scoff, rubbing your eyes at the mounting worry welling up within you. It swirls around in your stomach, growing larger and larger as your panic bleeds into it. “We’re not even married! What’re his parents going to think? Shit, what about his career?!” You grab Tara’s shoulders, jostling her slightly with the force. “What if his reputation is ruined because he had a kid without being married?!”

Tara grabs your shoulders in turn, rubbing them sympathetically. “Calm down first, okay? You don’t have to do my idea, but I think you’re overthinking this.”

You sigh. Slowly, you let go of her. “No, no, you’re right. I- I’ll think about it. Thank you for helping me out, Tara.”

“Of course! Just keep me updated, okay?” She giggles. “I need to know how he reacts!”

Even as you’re led to her couch and offered a soothing cup of tea, the panic doesn’t untwist from your guts.

-

You’re awake first. This doesn’t usually happen, but it’s only fitting that the anxiety that kept you from falling asleep easily last night also wakes you up earlier than needed. You study Zayne’s face in the dim moonlight.

He looks utterly at peace. There’s no tension in his brow. His eyes are relaxed, fluttering under his eyelids to watch a dream play out. Lips slightly parted with soft breaths.

His parents called yesterday, wishing they could be here and apologizing for their gifts being sent late due to the inclement weather where they’re stationed. Zayne always got this childlike sweetness to his expression whenever they were involved, smiling without restraint and allowing himself to be more outwardly affectionate. You’d seen it before when you recorded a video of him on his birthday to send to his parents, but seeing it now, picturing that same happiness on his face with his own child… He’d caught you staring at one point. You’d smiled and tried to play it off. You’re not sure he bought it, but he didn’t say anything about it after the call ended.

You really can’t sleep now. Your heart is beating too fast, tight in your chest with worry. You slowly roll onto your back. The white ceiling stares down at you. You stare right back, chewing mindlessly on your bottom lip.

Time passes by in a blur. You’re not sure how much has gone by when a finger carefully frees your lip from your teeth’s assault. You turn your head to see a freshly-woken Zayne. His hand falls to rest on the bed between you.

“What has you so worried?” His voice has a quiet rasp to it in the morning, especially when he whispers. You could listen to it for hours.

You shift to lay on your side, facing him once again. You distract yourself by playing with his fingers. “Nothing,” you lie with a placating smile. “I’m just hoping you’ll like the gifts I got you.”

He hums, but he doesn’t say anything for a minute. Instead, he captures your restless hand and brings it to his lips. Those pretty hazel green eyes of his close with the kiss he places on your knuckles. “I’m sure you chose the best gifts,” he says. “You know me too well to get me something I wouldn’t like.”

“True…”

He guides your hand to rest on his face. He’s warm from sleep, the barest hint of stubble starting to come in along his jaw.

“Can we open the gifts first today?” He opens his eyes to look at you again. You can feel the way he studies you. You try not to falter as you add, “I know we usually have breakfast first, but…”

A flicker of confusion, gone in a flash. “Of course. But it’s still early. You should try to get some more sleep.”

Maybe he can sense the exhaustion underneath your anxiety, or maybe he can see the bags under your eyes in the dim light. Or maybe he just knows you better than you think he does.

He reaches under the blankets to grab your hip, drawing you toward him like he has on so many restless nights before. You’re powerless to refuse the silent request. So you scoot closer, forming yourself to fit perfectly against his chest. He slips his arm under your head, letting you use his bicep as a pillow. You tuck your head under his chin and press your face against his neck.

Arms wrapped around each other, holding one another close before the breaking dawn of Christmas Day. He traces soothing shapes against your spine. You count his heartbeat as it thumbs by your ear. Somehow, you’re able to find sleep again.

-

Wrapping paper - neatly undone or carelessly torn - sit in a pile on the floor. Various gifts sit stacked or folded in neat piles on the coffee table, organized by Zayne. There aren’t many gifts in all. Really, you both had most everything you could ever wish for.

But now it’s time for the final gift. You jump up from the couch with a smile. “I have one more gift. Lemme go grab it.”

He shoots you a look. “And why isn’t it under the tree?” he teases.

You wish that simple question didn’t pour gasoline into the firepit of anxiety in your stomach. You wave him off, covering up your uncertainty with playfulness. “It was too important to go under there. I’ll only be a second.”

He hums, but doesn’t say anything more about it, watching silently as you retreat back into the bedroom. You pull the present out from your nightstand drawer. Is it the most secure place to keep something? Well, there’s nothing else really in there; nothing you’d need on a daily basis, anyway. And Zayne would never go in here without your permission. So, you trusted it more than your other idea of hiding it in your jacket pocket.

You hold the box tightly to your chest. God, please, please, please, let this go well.

You almost want to curse Tara for convincing you to go through with this. If the news ends up ruining Christmas and your relationship with Zayne, you’re going to unleash hellfire down on her.

With one last, steadying breath, you head back out to the living room.

Zayne is still waiting patiently, taking this opportunity to look at the cases of the games you got him. He sets them back down when you round the couch and sit down beside him once more. You hope he doesn’t notice your hands shaking when you pass it over.

The gift is small and thin, rectangular and lightweight, he turns it over to find where you’ve taped the decorative paper down to begin unwrapping it. You readjust to sit on your feet with your knees to your chest. Your body screams for you to hide, to escape all the possible outcomes of this situation you’ve forced yourself into. But you want to watch. You need to see his reaction.

He pauses in his unwrapping to look at you. “Are you alright?” he asks, frowning as he wraps a hand loosely around your ankle to rub soothing circles into the jutting bone there.

You force a smile you hope isn’t as strained as it feels and nod. “I’m okay,” you lie. You nod toward the present. “Open it.”

He doesn’t let go right away. You think for a moment he may not even continue. But, thankfully, he pulls away to finish removing the paper. He drops it onto the pile with the rest.

The box itself is a blank white. There are no marks, no labels, no details of any kind that could give away what lay inside.

You hug your legs to yourself. You can’t bear to look away from his face, not even to watch as he unfolds the tab at one end and slides the little stick out. It’s ultimately more rewarding, you think, to see the way his eyes widen ever so slightly. To see him lean forward as he flips the test over in order to read the results. To see the way his mouth falls open with a quiet breath.

He turns his whole body to face you. “You’re pregnant…?”

You nod shyly. “Are you upset?”

He sets the test on the table quickly, but as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world, before holding your face in both of his hands. “Why would I be upset?”

God, he looks at you so earnestly, so tenderly, you’re tearing up before you can stop yourself. Choking up over words that have suffocated you since you were hiding away in Tara’s bathroom.

“‘Cause we never talked about it before and-” A whimpering sob cuts through your words. You inhale shakily. “And we’re not even married or anything, and your job-”

“Hey, shhh.” He brushes away your tears with his thumbs. He leans forward to brush a soft kiss to your forehead, ducking down to stay close to you as he meets your eyes once more. “I have one last present for you, too,” he whispers. “Can I go get it?”

You sniffle and wipe your face with your sweater sleeve. You probably look like such a mess; you can’t seem to get the tears to stop now that they’ve started. “Why isn’t it under the tree?” you tease.

He smiles. “It was too special. Wait here, okay?”

You nod. He presses another kiss to your head before he gets up and disappears down the hall.

While he’s gone, you try to collect yourself. You lower your knees, wipe your eyes until they burn from the friction, and try to even your breathing. Right now, each breath comes in little hiccups, jittery and broken up and unproductive. You haven’t improved much by the time he gets back.

He sits down close to you, wrapping a warm arm around your shoulders to pull you even closer into his side. A small velveteen box rests in his hand. He offers it to you. “I didn’t expect to be giving it to you today,” he admits bashfully, resting his cheek against your head. “But I can’t think of a better time than right now.”

You don’t have to open it to know what’s inside. All the fear that suffocated you for the last couple weeks goes up in a puff of smoke. Instead, it’s like a soothing orb of light has taken its place, healing the burns left behind and filling you with immense happiness. You turn your body into his and wrap your arms tightly around him. He rubs his thumb methodically over your shoulder.

“Should we start talking about children now?” He kisses your head. “Assuming you agree to my proposal.”

A choked, relieved laugh jostles out from your chest. Your tears get on his shirt as you nod stupidly against him. “Of course I agree!” You pull away just enough to meet his eyes. “You’re really okay with this? You… want kids with me?”

He smiles warmly, openly, as if his parents have just called and he’s already given them the news of your engagement. “I couldn’t imagine a better partner to raise a family with.” He brushes the back of his fingers across your cheek, still holding the ring box. “Are you okay with it?” he asks softly, brows pinching together slightly and eyes sharpening. “We never did talk about it. Are you comfortable with carrying a child to term?”

“It’s scary,” you admit. “But… I want this. I want a family, with you.” Your smile feels sure and solid as you whisper, “I love you.”

The seriousness in his expression fades away, replaced with contented joy. This conversation isn’t over, not by a long shot. You know there are still so many things to ask about. Questions about your future together. But they can wait a few more hours.

He sets the ring aside, right next to the pregnancy test. Both hands free, he pulls you into a secure hug, head lowered to rest on your shoulder, cheek to cheek with you. He absolutely envelops you. All you can see, feel and hear is Zayne.

He presses a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. It’s not feverish and seeking. It’s soft, reverent, grateful. It pours out every emotion that wells up inside of him that can’t seem to fully escape. “I love you, too,” he whispers back.

You slide a hand along his back until you can tangle your fingers in the soft hair at the back of his head. He releases a shuddering breath, heavy with the relief that this is real.

Struck with an idea, you drag your other hand from his back down his arm, gently coaxing him to let go of you. Even in his confusion, he does what you want, slipping his hand from around your body. You guide it to rest over your belly, holding it there with your own. He buries his face further into your neck with a shaky sigh. “How long have you known?”

“If I tell you, you’re going to go into Dr. Zayne mode,” you tease. You press a sweet kiss beside his ear where you can reach.

You feel the grin that curves his lips. “Alright,” he relents quietly. “I’ll stay in fiancé Zayne mode for a bit longer.”

You release his hair in favor of wrapping your arm around his upper back, squeezing him closer, as if such a thing is even possible with how you’re already holding one another. “I’d like that.”

He squeezes you gently in return. “Me, too.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi

[ereawrites]

Hey gurl✨ I’m in my wife era rn so maybe some Shisui and/or Tobirama husband/jealous husband hcs?🫣 I loooovee your writing and tbh your thoughts are my thoughts so no pressure😩 If you not feeling it feel free to ignore me babe🧚🏻‍♀️

YOU HAVE FED ME SO GOOD MISS GIRL! under the cut for length

shisui

this isn't too relevant but I have to include it. it's too cute. I definitely see shisui getting married pretty young, like early 20s. if he finds his person he's going for it. probably gets a lot of shit for it from his family, but he doesn't care

loooong honeymoon period. in part because they're still a young couple but also... shisui is just a really devoted husband. he loves the married life. insists on kissing her goodbye every morning, eating together every night, stuff like that

LOVES DECORATING THEIR HOUSE are u kidding me. let's say they get a kinda shitty place right after they get married, and put a tonne of work into doing it up. he gets so into painting, building the furniture, even starts up a little herb garden in their kitchen

finds so many ways to drop his wife into conversation lol. he's down bad even after the honeymoon period ends, so he wants to show her off. his FAV is when she swings by his workplace to bring him his 'forgotten' lunch. he turns around to the rest of the guys like. yeah. that's my WIFE. isn't she hot.

very much a believer in keeping the romance alive. he wants to keep making the effort with her until the day he dies. veryyyy good at remembering anniversaries, scheduling regular date nights, etc. always makes sure she has fresh flowers in the house

obviously it isn't all perfect though. especially while they're young (and presumably both still active, high-ranking shinobi) their schedules keep them apart a lot. and this hits shisui really hard tbh. he hates coming back to an empty home after a long mission, knowing he might not even see his wife before he has to leave again

work is probably where most of their arguments stem from, actually. I don't see it being a regular thing, but it's easy for resentment to build in those kinds of situations. shisui is very torn between his love for his village, and his love for his wife, and the fact he can't prioritise both. thankfully shisui is a good communicator so they make things work.

in terms of jealousy... I don't see it being a common thing. maybe before they get married he tends towards it a bit more, but once she's his wife, why would he worry? she's his entire world and he knows she loves him just as much

the only way I rly see him getting jealous at all is if they're going through a bit of a rough patch for the reasons mentioned above. maybe they haven't seen each other in weeks, and they both get back from a mission on the same day. and there's some kind of event/function that evening that they have to attend

so they barely have a chance to acknowledge each other, before they're pulled apart again by the crowd. so if shisui sees some random guy getting a little too close and flirty with her, he gets more annoyed than he'd like to admit

even then though.. he's not necessarily jealous as much as he is upset. like goddamn just let this poor man have his beloved wife to himself for a night. in this situation he's more likely to behave more rashly than usual, and he might just make some excuses and take her home lol. he gets a little bit pouty until she gives him some attention

overall, though, he's very chill. he trusts her implicitly, and expects the same from her. they need to have a very honest, respectful relationship if he's going to wife her up

god okay and in old age they're so cute together. I bet they have a bunch of kids (probably accidentally tbh lol) so then they end up with a whole squadron of grandchildren. he's that fun grandpa who sneaks them sweets when the parents aren't looking. all the grandbabies want to sleep over at their house. and they LOVE it.

to sum up: very good husband. very relaxed, communicates well, makes her feel loved every day. why did he have to die I want to throw myself off a bridge.

tobirama

first of all. good job to this woman. wrangling tobirama into marriage is not an easy job. he's so fucking ANNOYING. it probably takes him years to confess he even has feelings for her, let alone ask for her hand in marriage

but once he gets there. it's pretty cute. he doesn't really act very differently for the most part - he'd already decided his heart belonged to her well before they married, and wholly committed. so his behaviour doesn't change much, and there isn't much of a honeymoon period. sorry. he's like marriage is just a contractual agreement why would it change anything between us

he does make a few little indulgences though. he gets this smug little look every time he introduces her as his wife. he's actually just a lot more prone to 'showing her off' in general, and more likely to show some physical affection in public. for tobirama that's maybe a peck on the cheek lol. but it's progress

he's definitely a lot.... gentler?idk. with her once they're married as well. he makes an effort to be more patient and less snippy, and shows his appreciation for her in a lot of quiet little ways. for example, he'll be sure to leave work on time no matter how busy it is if he knows she's putting a lot of effort into dinner that night. or if she spends a second too long looking at a new dress in the store, he's buying it for her

on that note. tobirama is such a provider once they're married. he does have that traditional idea of providing for his wife. he'll probably ask her if she wants to become a stay at home wife tbh. if she says yes, he still expects her to get out in the community of course. he'd love if she did volunteering work, maybe at the hospital or with kids or something. but he's also equally happy for her to keep working. power couple vibes very strong

they have a nice, quiet little house away from the village where no one bothers then and they loooove it. especially tobirama, his wife and their home are his sanctuary. everyone else gtfo

other than that, not much is really different from before their marriage. they probably actually lead quite independent lives, to the point where people don't even know they're married until tobirama drops it into conversation a few months later. they're very private and lowkey.

unfortunately for her, tobirama's paranoia also persists. he's a bit delulu sometimes lol and she knows this going in. but it does inevitably cause some issues, especially if she's headstrong (which is definitely the type of woman he ends up with)

he trusts his wife more than anything. he would never doubt her for a second. but other men? the enemy. not to be trusted. they're all dogs. it drives him absolutely batshit crazy to watch them ogling her, or god forbid trying to flirt with her. which is actually kinda common bc they're such a lowkey couple, so people assume she's single

tobirama isn't one to make a scene per se, but this definitely leads to a few awkward situations in public, and she probably ends up embarrassed a few times. and there's 10000% arguments behind closed doors. I don't see either of them being good with this lol. he acts like she's his political enemy he's ridiculous

but because he loves her so much, and he actually really wants to put work into the longevity of their marriage, he'll come around. he's a lot softer and more willing to compromise when it comes to her. but she can't point that out because he's mortified

over time, he chills out a lot more. they're one of those couples that just get stronger and better with time. they grow a lot together, and although they probably continue to disagree a lot throughout their marriage, it's always in a way that leaves their relationship stronger. and he only gets softer for her. people (hashirama) even start to point out how devoted he is and he can't even deny it. cute

overall a kind of difficult husband, because he is an exceptionally difficult man, but my god he loves her so much. he would do anything to make her happy.

[bitchface24-7]

Hi V! I was wondering if you felt comfortable doing a fluff fic of reader x viktor or jayce comforting reader on her period ?

All goods if you can't!!

I really enjoy your writing and I live all the attention to detail you put into your stories !!

THIS SUCKS… - VIKTOR & JAYCE X READER

synopsis: you're on your period, you feel bloated, agitated, and your stomach hurts. You can't tell if you're hungry, if you're cramping, or if you really need to shit. Your lovely boyfriend sees you struggling, and takes care of you the best he can.

warnings: menstruation (obviously), pain, fluffy fluff of our boys taking care of us.

genre: m/f or gn/m

p.s. I'm going to write this in the style of bullet points. Also, why not get both? This isn't Jayvik, so if you prefer one over the other, you can just read one part. Love ya! ❤️

VIKTOR X READER

You dread everytime your menstrual cycle hits you. It's painful, messy, and makes you agitated at the littlest things.

It makes you unintentionally be snippy with Viktor, something that upsets you even more since he hasn't done anything to deserve that treatment.

He's incredibly understanding. As someone who deals with chronic pain he understands that pain can make you act in ways that you typically wouldn’t.

Your pain may not be 24/7, but he knows it comes once a month for a week straight.

He has pain killers, a heated weighted blanket, and light food that surprisingly fills you up ready for you.

He’ll even make you sweet milk when you ask for it.

You typically do parallel play, he’ll continue to work, but he’ll make sure he's in the same room as you.

More times than not, he's cuddled up with you in bed, your pleading eyes and pouty lips will be his downfall. He can never say no to you.

Viktor makes this part of your life so much easier, and you can't thank him enough for it.

(its actually his way of thanking you. You take care of him all the time. Adjusting his spinal brace, his leg brace, making sure he has his cane. Helping him take off his assistive devices when he asks. Making sure he eats, he sleeps. He appreciates your care and love more than you'll ever know. So he tries his best to help you when you need it.)

JAYCE X READER

Jayce has a good idea how to take care of menstruation aches and pains. He's practically Cait’s older brother. He was around when she went through puberty.

It was not a pretty sight.

He knows you'll crave sweets, chips, sushi, fried chicken, really anything super flavourful and bad for you.

He knows teas help with cramps, so do heating pads, and lightly massaging your lower abdomen.

He knows you'll alternate between wanting to be alone, and being cuddled.

He knows you'll accidentally get snippy, feel bad, and want to hug him.

He knows it all.

It’s like it was ingrained into him on how to take care of you. He just appreciates that the hellish years he had to deal with a pubescent Cait paid off in the end.

(no he swears she was going to kill him at one point)

Being able to cook delicious food because of his mama makes it even better. He’ll make so much food you honestly wont know where to start. But they'll for sure be something there you can stomach.

They'll always be there to take care of you ❤️

Hi Anon! Thank you for the compliment! Sorry this is much shorter than you probably expected, I just don't deal with my period often? I go like one to three months in-between cycles and I just take care of myself when it happens. I medicate myself and essentially sleep away the pain for a day and a half, then I'm back to normal, I’m just bleeding now as well.

The longest time I went without a period was six months back in 2022 (I was 20 and had gotten it in November after my assumption of extremely early onset menopause LMAO, after that I got a tracker app to help me remember when I get it) and no I was not pregnant. Unless I’m Mother Mary reborn, that wouldn’t be possible.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 30/12✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@pandorainabox ha chiesto: Hope this isn't a dumb question,but do you plan to/already are posting the bio parents ah anywhere where it can be viewed all in one piece? With the between posts in tumblr,it gets confusing and I still don't quite know how to navigate it so I was curious if I could binge read it anywhere all in one clean read? (I constantly want to re-read it lmao,it brings me so much joy,its so damn cute!!) Anyway apologies for the random question!! I love your work,you're doing so good and I hope you have an absolutely wonderful rest of your day/night! Thank you so much for taking your time to read and respond if you do so!! 💚💚🌙

i mean… I THINK the masterpost is the easiest way to read it for now (and once you read one chapter you press “NEXT” at the end of it.)

if I would put it, let’s say, on Webtoon (which I can’t) it kind of would be the same thing. A list if chapters, when you click on one it opens the chapter with the 10-20 panels and then you click the “next” to go to the next one.

i don’t think putting all chapters from one part would be nice since it would be a super duper long list of panels (and the page would take a lot to load with so many medias) and one Part of the comic contains multiple arcs.

i’m open to suggestions though!

@robinpika ha chiesto: I was just wondering why is wukong kaiju form unstable? What inspired you to go that route

it was an headcanon of my of why we never see it in the show, even though it is present in JTTW AND war forms are… well normal in LMK, so I figured he must have a reason why he didn’t use it, considering it could have spare them a lot of trouble giving its power.

@imafluffycupcakey ha chiesto: I can't find the option to ask anonymously oof— Enyway this is Tumblr and that's what I'm here for. Ever made a design for a Red son and MK kid? From your AU I mean (ignoring every nature law for a second). Also, where did you got that name for MK from? Is something from Jurney to the west? Mainly thanks to your AU I am going to try and read that book (has more them a 1000 pages :') )

we all subconsciously agreed that the spicynoodle lovechild is Kai from lego ninjago and MK real name is his name in the chinese dub.

@avencaeheng ha chiesto: Can you reccomend any websites to watch lmk? 🙏

You can find MOST of the episodes on youtube. BUT you need also the specials to understand the story. If I link you a site in 2 weeks it will be down. The best is that you join the Lego Monkie Kid Fanspace discord. They have links to see the show and they update them every once in a while.

@astro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: Another silly headcanon <3 Since MK unlocked he’s monkey form he started teething like a baby monkey but… adult. I don’t know how baby monkey teethe but when dogs teethe they get a lot more bite-y and the bites hurt a lot more than before teething. I can imagineMK getting a lot more bitey with things, like chewing food longer then needed be and maybe when he’s play fighting with the baby monkeys he bites one and it chirps and Wukong is like: ! One of my children is in need! And he discovers MK is teething and does something idk yet. After having given my evidence… Do you think this would happen? Does MK have fangs in his human form like how some people draw him?

hi! I guess he did have a period in which he had a little teething.

no, his human form doesn’t have fangs, because his human form is just a kind of glamour/shapeshift. In the AU the monkey form became his normal form (since it always has been his original form to begin with)

toomanylegos ha chiesto: Hey, I just want to say I absolutely adore your ShadowPeach comic and the beautiful art with it. I went through nasal surgery on the 19th, and seeing an update from you really helped soothe my nerves about it, so thank you! I can't wait to see more updates throughout my recovery :D burry-penguin ha chiesto: As a spicynoodle shipper I love your work sm and what ur doing for this community KEEPING US FEED FOR DAYSSS!! 🔥🍜 🔥🍜 You’re so amazing and keep doing what you’re doing because you’re a damn good story teller and artist. You’ll go so far someday! You’ve helped put a smile on my face on my best and worst days just from seeing each new update and going absolutely fuckin feral over it and I thank you for that 🫶 imafluffycupcakey ha chiesto: Not really a ask. I would just like to say I inhaled your AU comic like a vacum cleaner in less them a day, also big fan of the art style. Anonimo ha chiesto: I'm recovering from a toxic relationship and the shadowpeach bio parents au is helping me think through everything ,, The love these monkies show me how relationships are supposed to make you feel good... thank u

turtlewearingclothes ha chiesto: Howdy! I just wanted to say thank you for making your amazing comic, and being the reason I got into Lego Monkie Kid. I've heard of the show, but I never watched it. Then I came across your comic like, 2-3 weeks ago? And after binging it, I decided to watch the show, and now I'm obsessed lol. Thank you!

AWWWW THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE!!!♥️♥️♥️

@selfdestructivecat ha chiesto: Hey so I recently binged your LMK comic because I absolutely fell in love with your ISAT x COTL comic and knew anything you made would be amazing. I’ve never seen LMK though so I’m sure I lost some of the context (it was still so good though, I’m really rooting for everything to work out for the characters!) But I decided to give the actual series a try because of the comic! And here was where I planned on writing you a message after a few episodes to thank you for getting me into a new series, but… I’m on episode one. I only watched the intro. Dude. IM ABSOLUTELY HOOKED. THE ANIMATION! THE STYLE! THE CHARACTERS! I’m so so excited to watch more (which I’m gonna do now!) but thank you so much for bringing this series to my attention!!!

ahaha welcome to the club!, now you can enjoy both comics!

@therivergirl ha chiesto: I remember back in the beggining of eclipse arc you mentioned that Mac feels insecure about his body being part of the reason he's hesitant to take of his clothes even in front of Wukong and it being part of the reason (aside from basic decency) that Wukong looked away. And now in this part Mac appears butt-naked to help Wukong out, adding yet another layer of vulnerability...gah! (Maybe I should finally watch LMK because I feel I would be doubly obsessed with this comic then...)

For Mac being exposed was the last of his issues considering that what he was seeing was Wukong at his lowest and most naked. Now excuse me while I cry.

@astro-lmk-enjoyer ha chiesto: You probably know Chang’E’s story from LMK, but did you know there is a second version of her story that I like better? In the second version Chang’E and her husband(I forgot his name), are getting used to living as mortals after being kicked out of heaven. But someone hears of the immortal elixir they have and try to steel it while Chang’E’s husband is out hunting. After getting beat up a bit she decides to drink the elixir so the robber couldn’t get it. But she instead went to the moon so she could be closer to her lover. Her husband dies because he’s still mortal, and Chang’E is left be herself. I have silly little headcanon the day MK and the others went to the moon was her and her husband’s anniversary 🙃 Bye <3

AH. OK.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do you think that wukong and macaque act like cats?

as in they would purr? I moslty think Wukong wants to cuddle and stroke his head on Mac neck like a cat, while Mac is that one cat that sometime is annoyed when people touch him but eventually let them do it.

Anonimo ha chiesto: ✨Hear me out :3✨ MK can hear the past. He heard the fight of of prentice and held his eye like he was getting hurt by Wukong and not Macaque. So now picture this: MK has a vision again, his this time it is about how the monk used the circlet on him :3

AHAH. NOW HE CAN’T SEE TANG THE SAME WAY AGAIN. FUCK.

Anonimo ha chiesto: When I first found your comic in your TikTok account, I thought it was something very silly... How very VERY wrong I was.(As I get shot 57 times.) I hope you are taking very good care of yourself because when I downloaded Tumblr to keep myself updated to your comics(which was somewhere around 13-16 December probably) there are a LOT of panels. I enjoyed the newest and most recent parts of the shadowpeach bio parent au and can't wait for the next!!! Don't work yourself to the bone too much! Remember to take mental and physical breaks.

AGHDMHSMFYS THANK YOU!!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Are there others who flirt with MK ? He looks good, is very powerful and has a sunshine personality. I bet there are others who are interested in him

I guess there haven’t been any for NOW.

Anonimo ha chiesto: After reading the post about swk's circlet, I srsly want him to look at mk and say "oh, hey we're matching!" ... "OH SHIT WHY ARE WE'RE MATCHING?!"

NOOOOOO!!

@delightfulcupquakequeen ha chiesto: Hey there!!! Been awhile sincenI've written an ask, just wanted to send love and being greatful that you are doig this amazing AU!!!! Appreciating ever pannel you make and gosh dammit hitting me right in the korokoro!!!! Keep being your fabulous self!!! Until next time!

THANK YOUUUUU

@l1br4rycrypt1d ha chiesto: Feel free to ignore this if it's spoilers for the comic, but are we gonna get to see the Gold Star of Venus? Just curious, since you reblogged the meme post that mentioned him during the takeover

There will be a small space for them as well, yes.

@kaothedemon ha chiesto: Fun fact, while I doubt Pigsy has all of Zhu Bajie's powers, his ancestor did have a kaiju form, which he could use if he ate a fuckton I'm sure it's not gonna appear in the story, but the idea of Heaven having to deal with 3 Kaiju dads (+ theoretically a sworn uncle) is extremely funny to me (picture courtesy of OSP's latest JTTW episode cause even when I read the book there weren't any illustrations of this)

I SAW THAT!! Man now they must add it to the show. Yeah I don't think he has ALL of Zhu Bajie's powers (I don't think he would ever want to have them) but it would be interesting if it was a high stake situation

@roseltelle ha chiesto: I think Macaque would actually enjoy working/ volunteering at the playhouse specifically doing shadow plays. But he does regular plays as well. His favorite days are when classes of children come in for field trips. Wukong often paints the backdrops, scenery, and other items for plays. They both enjoy their hobbies.

Awwwww yeah I think Macaque would totally love that.

@lmk4ever ha chiesto: Can you imagine Wukong just being out of it after he distracted the celestials for too long in his war form?

I think that as soon as he sees Macaque again he immediately switch back and become behaved again.

@peach-fury ha chiesto: I think I know the answer but theoretically... Who's war form/kajiu is stronger Wukongs or Macaque's and how would it go? I don't know it started as a thought. Now I can't stop laughing.

Wukong's is stronger.

blbllblblblll ha chiesto: do you know the pronunciation of xiaotian? ive been stuck on how to say his name for so long 😭

I know that the "Qi" is pronunced "Chi" and I think "xiao" is pronunced the same as you would read it, while I THINK the "t" in "tian" is more of a mix between a t and a c/k? I aint chinese and the way I pronounce things or read them is probably different from u cause I'm italian.

eerieqloss ha chiesto: Okay question, is Wukong's war form bigger/taller than MK's?

it's taller.

@elliboom ha chiesto: I was wondering, will Erlang Shen ever appear in the Shadowpeach parent series? (And questa domanda la scrivo in italiano giusto per levarmi un’altra curiosità in futuro, preferisci che le domande vengono scritte solo in inglese o vanno bene anche in italiano? So che non ci sono molti italiani ad essere fan di LMK e JTTW, posso capire la scelta di scriverli solo in inglese per rispetto e far capire ai altri fan, e generalmente per scrivere le domande uso google translate, perché faccio pena con la grammatica inglese, mi scuso se in futuro farò domande con qualche errore 🥲🥲)

Si apparirà. Manda pure in italiano shalla ahah.

[annadiplosis]

A few months ago I posted a couple photos of my index cards, saying I still didn’t know how and where I’d keep them, and I’ve since developed an Archiving System that combines the cards with a digital spreadsheet and has taken more hours than I will ever admit.

So, since I don’t have a “notebook system” to speak of, I'd like to share the way I archive my journals / sketchbooks / whatever you wanna call them, because I’m very proud of it, and who knows, someone might find it helpful :)

WHY I NEED AN ARCHIVING SYSTEM

The reason I don’t have a notebook system is because I use my books for absolutely everything, from sketches to grocery lists and journaling. It is crucial to me to not have any restrictions or expectations when it comes to my books, and that’s how I’ve managed to fill 43 of them over the years.

But of course, when you’ve been using notebooks without a system for most of your life and you want to read a specific entry, you can easily spend a full hour flipping through a sea of paper until you stumble upon those notes on the Bubonic Plague you took in 2011 or whatever you were trying to find.

SO HERE’S WHAT I DO

When I finish a notebook, I try to determine what its most important contents are: stuff I might want to reference in the future (project ideas, meeting notes) or is very characteristic of a period in my life (friends' drawings, travel logs). Every single page contributes to making the notebook what it is and gives it a unique personality, but not all of them are gonna be keepers, and that's fine (I'd even say fundamental, at least in my case).

These are the extremely generic categories I sort my Chosen Entries into. It's similar to the dot system so many people use, just applied retroactively:

🟣 Study notes 🔵 Work 🟢 Personal 🟡 Projects 🔴 Misc

And here's where the real archiving begins. This info goes into:

1. THE INDEX CARDS

(I always write them in Catalan; this one's a mockup and most of these are not real entries)

A little piece of cardboard with the notebook number, its start and end dates, and most important contents. I keep each index card inside its corresponding notebook, either in its own backpocket or an adhesive one I stick there myself.

This way, whenever I want to take a quick look through the book, I get a general idea of its contents at first glance. Sometimes, just holding it in my hand and reading the index card brings me back to the time when I was keeping it, and that time-travel feeling gives me a rush like no other. I don't know if you can tell, but I'm crazy about my notebooks.

2. THE SPREADSHEET

Same as before, just a couple more pieces of info (number of months, physical description) added to a file with the rest of my notebooks' data. Again, these are not real entries for privacy and language reasons, but they're very similar to the kind of stuff I do keep. The spreadsheet helps me find specific entries with a simple ctrl+f, and it's also a bird's-eye view of my progress through the years as a notebook keeper. I can see when my interests shift, how long some of my most important projects took to come to fruition, and even similar types of entries that repeat every few years which I wasn't even aware of before putting it all together. Absolutely fascinating stuff.

I hope this was useful, or interesting at the very least! If you’re a notebook keeper trying to find their own archiving system, my main advice would be to start early so you don’t have to deal with almost two decades of material like I did :’)

If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask.

Good luck 🖤

[dollyyun]

DKP 7.4, FINALE (incomplete draft)

note: this is not proofread, so what you're about to read is the finale in its raw form with horrendous typos, grammatical errors and some paragraphs and even dialogues that don't make sense so don't expect much.

also way below are spoilers/details of the unwritten scenes (also in its raw form aka messy af) again i’m sorry if they don’t make any sense. i promise the revamped will be better. do send asks if you have anything to clarify!

wc: 11.9K

Time eventually became a valuable essence you began appreciating more, as well as cultivating your career, your friendships, your familial ties, and most especially your relationship with the guys that continues to blossom, because days turned into weeks, and weeks slipped into months just like how time slipped between your fingers before you could even grasp onto it a little longer.

Just thinking about the journey you sailed throughout those periods has you breaking into a soft grin while the upturned shape of your lips can be felt on his shoulder, prompting him to cast a quick glance down at you with a raised eyebrow. It is as though the past recollections are a memorable playback in your mind with waves of nostalgia descending on you benignly. 

It has been three months since you agreed to and established a polyamorous relationship with the guys, but it certainly was not all sunshine and rainbows ─ not saying that you often had arguments with them or that your relationship was all toxic. In fact, the guys genuinely and solemnly stayed true to their words in regards to treating you better than they did before.

But at the end of the day, they’re humans too, so flaws were inevitable. There were moments when you got into minor disputes with them and felt infuriated by their actions that ticked you off the same way they felt towards yours. However, a clear rule had been established that was deemed important in your relationship: listen and hear each other out before proceeding to the communication stage, followed by any needed consolation.

Those moments were rare, but they happened, and it is cliché to say this, but after every argument or petty dispute, your relationship seemed to improve significantly each time, and you slowly began to understand each other’s flaws and complexities better with open minds. You also acknowledged that not once did they ever raise their voice or hand at you during arguments, even if anger brimmed in their veins, and you appreciated that, just as you began to appreciate every little thing they did.

To the guys, their love for you outweighs anything else, and they treasure you more than you will ever know, which is why their anger would always be short-lived, as all that mattered to them was you running and seeking comfort and home in their arms at the end of the day. All in all, they had been nothing but amazing lovers in spite of their flaws and differences.

Speaking of differences, the dynamic flow in your relationship is oddly smooth, considering that each of them has a primal instinct of possessiveness towards you, but somehow, they make it work, and no schedule is needed when it comes to the fairness of spending time with you individually. Likewise, how being in a relationship with four guys didn’t feel as awkward to you as it was in the very beginning.

Plus, your friends in Milan were informed of your new relationship status, and they were more than accepting that you’re a taken woman. Initially, you did have some lingering worries about your friend’s differing opinions despite being accepting, but they treated you just the same, only putting a little more distance now with Eunwoo and Wooseok. The two older guys have known and seen how possessive your boyfriends could get, and so they respected your boyfriends enough to establish more boundaries between you and them. But to you, the two men probably wanted to save their hide from your lovers, who are more than capable of doing any form of harm.

As for Jennifer, she still doesn't particularly like your boyfriends, but after seeing how evidently happier you are compared to the years she spent with you, she couldn’t deny that your being in a relationship with them was right and meant to be. Of course, she gave a strict warning to your boyfriends, albeit they didn’t feel threatened by her, about breaking your heart again and taking good care of you on the day she, along with her father and your boyfriends, helped you in moving out.

Moving out of your apartment, especially when it was Jennifer’s father who generously gifted your once-humble abode to you, was honestly a challenging decision because even though you were totally psyched about living with your boyfriends, your apartment held both bittersweet memories of both hardships and ease.

As for Jennifer’s father, aka Mr. Huh, his reaction was not what you expected, albeit he looked a tad astounded after he had been told of your polyamorous relationship. Since he took you under his wing for quite a period of time and regarded you like his second daughter, it was natural for you to feel obliged to formally introduce your boyfriends to him, and you couldn’t lie about how nervous you were for them because Mr. Huh is an austere man who is fiercely protective towards his loved ones and has high standards, but much to your surprise, he seemed accepting and amiable enough to welcome them to the family on behalf of your parents.

Upon watching the interaction between your father figure and the loves of your life, you couldn’t help with the guilt pulling at your heartstrings of making the decision to move out of your apartment as you felt incredibly indebted to Mr. Huh for everything he had done and for supporting you when you had nothing in the beginning of your new journey here. You consulted about living with your boyfriends permanently with both Jennifer and Mr. Huh, and you even apologised to him profusely with tears filling your waterline, but the elder reassured you that he understood your decision and remained a supportive father figure till this day. 

Both Jennifer and Mr. Huh wanted you to worry less about such trivial matters and instead, they genuinely wanted you to be happy with your life and your blooming relationship because you deserved it after going through different stages of tribulation. Just like your boyfriends, your comfort and happiness matter the most to the father-daughter duo.

On the other hand, the guys moved into the mansion two weeks before the actual date of their lease termination over the penthouse that also held memories you made with them. They refused to do it at the very last minute, and plus, it would be convenient for them in advance as they wanted to focus on helping you with packing and moving out after dealing with paperwork and other vital issues at hand.

Moving in was the easiest part, considering you had more help than you would’ve thought, but to unpack your stuff from the boxes was simply gruelling that you had to take a day to take a breather before resuming it on the day after instead. Thankfully, your room had already been meticulously furnished by them, so it lessened your burden as you only needed to unpack and organise your stuff; even so, you felt easily fatigued.

When you first stepped into your designated bedroom, a wave of nostalgia hit you like whiplash in the face while you were in awe at how similar the design and layout were to your old bedroom back at the palace in Seoul ─ the walls were painted in cream that made the room more spacious than it already was, a queen-sized bed with upholstered bedframe that looked like puffs of clouds pressing up against the wall where the windows were nearly situated and by the window sill had ample space for at least four people to sit on top of the white fleecy cushion, your very own personalised makeup vanity corner with a full-length mirror next to it, and a fairly big walk-in closet for your clothes and other storage.

You felt the sincerity and love in their efforts in the way they organised and designed your room, rendering you overwhelmed and tearing up as you felt deeply touched. The guys panicked when a single tear rolled down your cheeks, but you chuckled and reassured them that you were being melodramatic. Of course, you didn’t forget to deliver your utmost gratitude to them even though they insisted that it was nothing and that they were simply doing their job as your lovers.

Frankly, it took you almost a week to finally settle in with the help of the guys, even though they had work obligations to fulfil during the daytime, but that also meant depriving you of being intimate with them. Hence, you took the liberty to organise and create schedules for each of them who would be having individual appointments on different days with you.

The sensation of warm, soft lips pressing into your cheek pulls you out of your reverie as you blink your eyes repeatedly before looking at Jake, who has been observing you with curious eyes. “What got you smiling like that, sweetheart?” He asks with an amused smile, placing his hands on your bare thighs and rubbing them in soothing motions as you are perched comfortably on his lap with your folded legs encasing his outer thighs while he is seated on his computer chair.

“Nothing much. Just thinking about our love-life,” You say lightly with a sheepish smile on your lips, eliciting a breathy yet fond chuckle from him as he leans back into his chair leisurely, his posture no longer as tense as earlier. You take a glance over your shoulder, looking back to see his computer screen that displays data and code that you are unable to decipher while a frown slowly tugs at the corners of your lips. “Are you still not done with work yet?”

You don’t want to sound like a whiny, clingy girlfriend, but this time, impatience is absent from within you. Unfortunately, Jake’s appointment with you clashed with his impromptu work schedule that required him to complete his follow-up tasks. Despite the disappointment, you understood that he must attend and fulfil his work obligation since he’s the head of the security team after all.

So you decided to hang around his personalised office room, but boredom eventually struck you, and your patience was running thin as you watched him in his element. Though it had been half an hour since you settled in his office, you chose to admire his handsomeness that nearly enticed you to pounce on him like an untamed animal to kill the time, but it was ineffective to your boredom. Somehow, Jake was able to sense your dampened, sulky temperament as his work forced him to neglect you for more than it should, and so he beckoned you over to sit on his lap while waiting for him to finish. 

You obviously felt keen and rushed to him, nearly tripping over some wires that had him chuckling at your clumsiness. Your short pleated skirt allowed easy access for you to settle your thighs over the sides of his as you managed to perch on his lap comfortably with your arms around him, to which he didn't mind and instead adjusted his seating position for your arms to wrap comfortably around him.

Every so often, you would rest your chin on top of his broad shoulder and give him tender kisses on his neck in an attempt to ease him whenever you felt his body tense up while listening to the sound of keyboards being pressed behind you. Of course, you did not miss the opportunity to bury your nose into his chest, nuzzling and inhaling his scent that offered you solace with his warmth cocooning you like a safety blanket. Despite being focused on his work, he would smile or press a tender kiss on your crown at your every action that he finds endearing.

Seeing the adorable pout on your kissable lips, Jake chuckles breathily as he grabs your hand before pressing a tender kiss on your knuckle in apology. “I’m finally done with my last task. I’m sorry you had to wait for so long.” He leans back against his chair, his head tilting lightly yet adorably while he gives you a boyish grin that sends familiar flutters to your beating heart. “I’m all yours now, lovely. So what do you want to do?”

“Honestly, I just want to cuddle with you and be close to you like this.” You tell him rather bashfully while his eyes soften as he gazes at you with an unmistakable fondness, knowing that you haven’t gotten the chance to be closely intimate with him alone ever since you settled in the mansion for a week now. “We can also watch some movies after cuddling or make something in the kitchen. Plus, I’m kind of craving s'mores.”

Jake nods his head meaningfully before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. “Anything my girl wants,” His voice is laced with affection, and his eyes are gazing at you adoringly, which has you feeling all giddy. “You said you want to cuddle, right? We can cuddle comfortably there.”

Holding your thighs securely, Jake rises from the computer chair as he carries you with ease while you instinctively wrap your arms around him with your legs locking around his waist securely. He proceeds to amble across the other side of his office room. “We can do it like this.” He suggests with a mischievous grin, letting himself fall backward while squeals leave your lips as you hold onto him tight, embracing yourself for the incoming impact before he finally lands on the beanbag with a grunt that sounds huskily low and has you feeling something else straight in your lower stomach.

As the last of your giggles wane, you feel a palpable shift in the air around you, something rather raw yet intimate, before noticing the way Jake gazes at you with intense yet adoring fondness as he strokes the back of your head gently with his fingers playing intermittently at your strands. “I’d love to cuddle with you more than anything, but I feel a little tired, sweetheart. Plus it feels nice to hug you like this. What if I fall asleep?”

“Then sleep. You deserve it. Besides, you’ve been working for over two hours." You reassure him, smiling softly as you see how his eyelids are getting heavier with each passing second. You lift your head up for a bit to place a tender kiss on his lips before murmuring. “I love you, Sim Jaeyun.”

Jake smiles lazily against your lips, and just before you can pull away, he cradles the back of your head with his palm and presses your lips into his, kissing you deeply. The kiss feels sensual yet so innocent, his lips moving with yours tenderly in an unfamiliar dance, but soon enough, you feel something hard poking your lower abdomen that has you gasping softly into the kiss. Just like that, the last traces of sleep dissipate as his kisses begin to feel ravenous in the way his lips devour yours, utterly insatiable.

“Jaeyun,” You utter his name breathlessly as he pulls away from your lips, only to be startled when he switches position before you find yourself leaning on the beanbag with your legs being forcefully spread by his frame, barely giving you time to process the change of once tender atmosphere when he leans down and captures your lips in a kiss that demonstrates his desperation for you.

“Change of plans, sweetheart,” Jake rasps against your parted lips as you pant for air. He gives you no opportunity to recover from the nearly heated makeout session when he moves down to assault your bare neck with his ravenous lips, kissing and sucking your skin that forms a new hickey while your breaths become rapid with breathy moans leaving your lips as you buck up your hips, causing your clit to throb incessantly at the sensation of his hard bulge grinding directly at your clothed cunt.

“Are you not tired?” You manage to ask breathily despite your head spinning with desire for this insatiable man. You feel his hand moving underneath the material of your shorts and panties while your heart pounds harder in anticipation as his fingers nearly reach your throbbing clit.

“I’m feeling rather famished for something else,” His husky voice sounds heavenly in your ear, and there is an unmistakable desire in the cadence of his voice, borderline ravenous, that you feel giddy at the thought of him devouring you until you are reduced to nothing. He pulls away, only to meet your eyes and smirk down at you as he sees the utter want in your pretty eyes. His smirk melts into a soft grin for a fleeting moment, murmuring gently. “I love you more, my sweetheart."

Loving Sim Jaeyun is so easy, and you always find yourself falling in love with him over and over again. He is annoyingly mischievous at times, but he never does anything to upset you and tries his best. Even when you have already known that he is the most volatile with his emotions and his past diagnosis with borderline personality disorder, your love for him only grows as days pass. Although you also trust the other guys, you find it most comfortable to confide in Jake about any concerns, just like how you did back in Seoul.

As for sleeping arrangements, well, you don’t really have one with them, but on some nights Jake abandons his own bed just to head over to yours and sleep with you with his head on your chest as he listens to your steady heartbeat, simply because he wants to make sure your heart remains beating. You know that he fears losing you, and so it has become a habit for him to listen to your heartbeat whenever he lies on top of you, anchoring himself to you to reassure his paranoid mind that you’re real.

After Jake’s appointment is Sunghoon’s, but instead of you taking charge in planning leisure activities for the two of you, Sunghoon takes an insistent initiative, as according to him, he has been planning this surprise for weeks now, even before your settlement in the mansion.

Though Sunghoon is confident that you will love the surprise, he can’t lie about how nervous he feels, facing you as he carefully guides you to the awaited location of the surprise with his hands gripping yours, albeit the surprise is in the mansion itself, while your eyes are wrapped with a blindfold.

“Hoonie, this is so silly.” You remark with chuckles leaving your upturned lips, your eyes unable to see anything but the warmth of his hands providing you comfort, and his firm reassures you that he wouldn’t let you walk into a wall or bump into any object. “Why must I wear a blindfold when I could just close my eyes instead?”

“Because knowing you, you’d attempt to peek,” Sunghoon counters knowingly as a smirk touches his lips at your lips jutting into a pout. He intervenes before you can even make another comeback at him. “Don’t ruin the fun now, princess. Besides, we’re almost there. Just a few more steps.”

Sunghoon stays true to his words, because just a few more steps, you find yourself stopping in your tracks at the same time he does. He slowly lets go of your hands while you are shortly occupied by a fresh scent of something so familiar yet unfamiliar as it infiltrates your senses. “Okay, you can remove your blindfold now.” He instructs gently, his eyes remaining fixed on you.

You do as he told you, your fingers curling around the blindfold before pulling it down. Your eyes immediately adjust to the luminance encompassing the entire place, and after blinking for a few more times, your breath hitches in your throat at the pleasant surprise of his.

“Sunghoon…” You are at a loss for words, and maybe you are being melodramatic, but you can’t deny the whirlwind of emotions within you that threaten to overwhelm you. To others, the surprise is probably not a big deal, but to you? This has to be one of your memorable surprises.

For once, Sunghoon is unable to decipher the emotions swimming in your eyes and your impassive countenance—are you happy? disappointed? Or are you even surprised at all? He has no fucking clue, but the tension in his nerves becomes tenfold as he waits impatiently for your utterance. He desires your approval and satisfaction, and if he fails at pleasing you, it also means that he fails at being your lover.

“I know it’s not the surprise that you expected it to be,” Sunghoon finds himself needing to explain, albeit in a ramble, as the persisting silence from you unnerves him, but little does he know that you are simply occupied in admiring the sight before you. He tries his best to be subtle, but the nervousness in his voice is painfully evident in his ears. “I mean, you’ve already seen the library at the palace in Seoul back then, and the libraries we’ve been to in Milan are monumental, so this is probably nothing much.”

Sunghoon is silenced by your lips slamming into his parted ones with your arms thrown over his neck to pull him down just slightly, and he instantly wraps his arms around your waist, kissing you back with equal fervour, but there is a shared tenderness as your lips move against his slowly. Before you can get too carried away, you pull away from his lips, managing a soft, toothy smile at him while he swears he is falling in love with you over and over again. 

“You have no idea how much I love it. Thank you so much for the surprise,” You say with utmost sincerity and gratitude that has his heart swelling. Your eyes soften as you see a rare display of his vulnerability in his eye, prompting you to place another kiss on his lips. “I love you, Park Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon feels like he’s on cloud nine at the irrevocable love and devotion in your beautiful, sparkling eyes as you look at him. All the hours he spent planning and designing the entire place to make it look similar to the one in Seoul, as well as his efforts in working together with the contractors, are all paid off. He would do it again just to make you happy like this.

Sunghoon feels a tug at his wrist before looking down at your hand. “Explore the library with me.” You say in a demand that has him breaking into chuckles before letting you navigate the library on your own with your fingers intertwined.

Even though the mansion’s library is not as monumental as the one in Seoul, it still looks beautiful and royally elegant with its interior design and opulence. It makes you feel like you’re a real princess with your very own royal library. So how can you not love his surprise and him? 

No matter how tough and callous his demeanour is, you have always known that he is a softie at heart as you observe his every nuance before noticing the tip of his ears turning red, eliciting soft chuckles from you. The fact that Park Sunghoon, who you once knew, was never a man of romance and gifts, gifted you a place where you can explore different genres of fiction books that are filled to the brim on each shelf and read to your heart’s content is more romantic than he thinks.

Now, when it comes to Jay’s, you lack ideas of what to do and how you intend to spend the entire day with him, but fortunately for you, Jay loves to take charge and to be the one who plans your dates, not wanting his angel baby to think and worry incessantly. Apart from spoiling you with gifts, planning dates is part of his love language too.

Initially, you assume that he will be bringing you out to a more fancy date, but when he tells you to dress up in proper safety gear, you have a strong inkling that he will be bringing you out to a ride somewhere, and so you do as he tells you, donning black jeans and a leather jacket over your tight-fitting tee. 

The next thing you know, you are perched behind him on his motorbike with your arms wrapped around him for security as he speeds on the broad road where there are towering boulevard trees on each side of the road. 

You have no idea where Jay intends to bring you, but you trust him and his plans. Besides, you don’t mind riding all the way till night as you get to be this close with him, and so you enjoy this much-needed closeness with your arms hugging him tight enough that has him smiling behind the dark-tinted visor of his helmet. Turns out, the date not only includes bringing you out for a ride, but also exploring a street where you have never been as well as dining at a restaurant for lunch and trying out delectable pastries.

After the whole food adventure, Jay resumes bringing you for a ride with a fixed destination he intends to head to, and soon enough, you find yourselves entering a nearly empty yet broad parking lot with the beautiful orange hues of the impending sunset as a backdrop.

“So what are you planning on doing, exactly?” You ask with keen curiosity as you remain seated on his bike, your eyes following his movement and watching him as he presses the record button on his phone screen that is set up in a tripod stand, which he retrieved from your thigh bag.

Jay pushes up his visor to meet your eyes, and you see the way his eyes soften amidst the optimism. “I had this idea for a while now, and I’ve decided to capture moments of us on camera often from now on, whether they’re silly ones or not,” Just by the shape of his eyes alone, you can tell that he is smiling. “Because I want to show them to our child in the future; at least the glimpses of our love and dynamic.”

Your heart beats in a cadence that sounds symphonic in your ears while your eyes widen slightly at his statement. “Jay….” Your voice trembles with emotions with tears prickling in the corner of your eyes before you blink them away. You already know that he has the intention of marrying you one day, but to hear the two words of ‘Our child’ from his mouth hits you in the gut in a good way.

Jay’s chuckles through your helmet’s intercom send you butterflies all over as he extends his hand to you. “Come here, angel. We should say hello to our baby.” He beckons you over, and you proceed to dismount his motorbike before gravitating towards him and placing your hand on his, only to be startled when he swiftly pulls you in for a back hug and faces his recording phone. “Hi, baby. This is your parents.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh at how awkward the introduction was. “That’s not how you're supposed to do it, babe,” You tell him in between chuckles as you look at him with crescent-shaped eyes while he narrows his eyes in return. You redirect your focus on the camera and wave your hand at it. “Hi baby! This is Mummy!" You add a little yet dramatic flair to your introduction before gesturing your hand to Jay behind you. “And this is Daddy! We can’t wait to welcome you and hold you in our arms one day!”

Soon enough, the flow feels natural as you and Jay continue to give content to the recording camera—yapping off, teasing, and chasing after each other around the parking lot that is within the camera frame, and just being yourselves around one another without caring that you two may look like idiots in public, but at least no one is around. Plus, you get to see a new playful side of Jay.

After another round of chase, the two of you return nearer to the tripod stand while you pant lightly from all the running and laughing. Jay faces you, and as though you understand his telepathic message, you step a little closer before throwing your arms around his neck at the same time he hoists you up, prompting your legs to lock around his waist. 

You are too caught up in the moment to notice that the timestamp nearly reaches fifty minutes with a rare, vulnerable intimacy wrapping around you and him as he gazes fondly into your eyes. “I love you, Y/N Kang.” He says, his voice sounding deeper and slightly muffled, and you initiate the helmet kiss in return before breaking into fits of giggles. Just like that, the two of you end off the first content that will be saved in a folder for your child in the near future.

Finally, the long-awaited day to spend alone time with Heeseung beckons, and it starts off with you dragging him to the newly furnished arcade room that has been ready to use since two days ago. Since the other guys are also out of the household, you plan to spend the entire day playing with him to your heart’s content.

You are not a fan of arcade games, really, but you can’t deny the thrilling rush of competitiveness as you challenge Heeseug in a race where the two of you are now at the motorcycle racing simulator. But just like the previous games, you can see how he deliberately loses against you, as though he is letting you win when you know it yourself that Lee Heeseung hates losing.

You have no idea whether to be annoyed at him for letting you win so easily or not, especially whenever he innocently shrugs his shoulders or grins boyishly at your accusatory glares, but the undeniable flutters you feel in your chest are all you need to know that you are falling head over heels for him again.

“I know that you’ve been losing on purpose, but can you please not go easy this time?” You implore him with your fingers intertwined as you stand in front of the two basketball machines.

Heeseung simply smirks at you as he slowly releases your hand. “As you wish, my love. Just don’t sulk when I win.” He acquiesces, and the confidence exuding from him fuses the competitive tension in the air around you as he rolls his shoulders to the back before pressing the start button simultaneously with you.

As soon as the balls drop, you waste no time grabbing one and launching it into the hoop before doing it repeatedly despite missing the net. You can’t help but take a glance at Heeseung, in awe at how he is doing it with ease yet expertly and the fact that the balls he launched managed to swish through the net while maintaining a cool demeanour.

You can’t even be mad that by the time the countdown eventually stops, you have lost against him with a huge difference in the scores, because damn it, your man looks distractingly attractive in his competitive element. Even he has been aware of your eyes on him almost throughout the game.

“You didn’t even try to win, love,” Heeseung chuckles as he grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him, his dark eyes drinking in how you look prettily flustered under the intensity of his gaze. “Was I too handsome for you to find it hard to look away?”

Warmth weaves across your cheeks as you smile bashfully and nod your head in response. His eyes soften with adoration for you, but there is something else present in them, as though he has more to say to you in his mind. A fleeting hesitancy flickers in his gaze before he leans in to place a chaste kiss on your lips while cradling your face with his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. “Where to next, my love?”

In response, you break into a roguish grin before grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the arcade room. Not too long later, Heeseung finds himself strolling around the outer part of the stupendous mansion with you, his fingers intertwined with yours while he listens to your rambles attentively and gives his remark whenever appropriate. Honestly, he doesn’t mind spending the rest of your day like this, as it is what he needed after not being able to have more time alone with you except sleeping with you in his room at night because over the course of weeks, he had other important matters to deal with.

Soon enough, the two of you are seated on the water fountain ledge, which is situated in the backyard, with you yapping off nonsensically until an abrupt silence from you draws Heeseung’s attention. The loss of your warmth as you slip your hand from his prompts him to look at you, his eyebrow raising as he becomes intrigued at the stark mischief written across your features with a devilish smile on your lips.

“Beloved, what are you doing?” Heeseung asks slowly, his sharp eyes watching you with scrutiny as you remove your sandals before rising from your seat and dipping your bare foot inside the water fountain. Eventually, the lower region of your white dress is completely drenched, with the entirety of you now in the water fountain. “Sweetheart, you’ll get cold─”

In a blink of an eye, Heeseung feels an instant yet abrupt chilling sensation hitting him in the face, but wet before quickly comprehending that you just splashed a handful of water on him, rendering him nearly drenched with his white shirt visibly soaked and his hair wet. 

That was definitely done on impulse, but you meant to do it anyway. You can’t help it with laughter leaving your lips, even if there is a chance he is pissed at your playful antics. You splash water at him again, but he abandons his seat and turns to you with a scowl on his handsome face, and yet the corner of his lips twitches into a menacing smirk.

“You’re so gonna get it, pretty girl,” Heeseung growls out at the same time you let out a squeal, unrelentingly marching towards you as he is now in the same fountain as you, unbothered by the water soaking the untouched part of his clothes. 

Your gleeful shrieks and laughter echoing in the air create a euphonious symphony of pure delight that is both infectious and dear to him as he wholeheartedly entertains you, chasing and splashing water at you the same way you do to him.

“Don’t let me catch you, love,” Heeseung says, stopping midway as the two of you decide to take a moment of respite from the battle in the fountain, standing further apart opposite each other. “Or I’ll devour you like a predator does to its prey.” He grins deviously as he takes steps forward, intensifying the trepidation in you that propels you to jump over the ledge.

The chase prolongs even when the skies are painted in dusk, and you are now running barefoot and trying to elude Heeseung, but the latter seems to be guiding you in an unknown yet intended direction that eventually leads you further away from the backyard. Nevertheless, you play along, because being with Heeseung always seems to summon your inner child to come out.

Something nudges you to turn to the right, and you do, but your pace decreases and your smile falters, feeling mildly confused yet intrigued upon seeing pavement of cemented flagstones that seem to lead you somewhere with the beautiful hedges of greens and flowers on each side. 

The chase with Heeseung has long been forgotten in your mind as you become immensely intrigued as you continue to advance forward, your feet stepping on the cold flagstones while Heeseung follows you from behind quietly yet stealthily with his hands tucked in his pockets, his features softening with unmistakable fondness.

Your face contorts into confusion as you begin to notice glowing radiance that flows faintly through an unbarred entrance with embellishment of elm leaves all over. Your steps hasten, feeling an undeniable sense of keenness at what may await you, and before you know it, the sight before your very eyes knocks the breath out of you. 

Your eyes go wide while your lips go parted, in complete awe at the beauty of this seemingly secret garden that you had no idea existed. The adornment of fairy lights hanging intricately on the towering tree branches above you encompasses this newfound wonderland, making it appear as though you have entered a magical realm. 

As you venture just a little deeper, you begin to notice some child-friendly amenities in some parts of the area: swings that are authentically crafted from slabs of wood for seats and affixed with thick ropes that are tethered to the stout branches, an impressive treehouse that looks sturdy with a scoop-designed slide, a cute playhouse painted in beige, and mini wooden benches.

The rustle from behind you pulls the trance that you are in, drawing your attention to Heeseung, who has been observing you with fond eyes, and you find yourself being rooted to the ground. “Heeseung, what….” You can’t seem to articulate your feelings that are jumbled into words while cacophonous questions clamour in the confines of your mind.

Heeseung briefly assesses your surroundings rather meaningfully as he ambles forward. “It isn’t much yet, but I do have plans on adding more amenities that are safe and fun for our kids in the near future.” He divulges the surprise he has been preparing for a while now.

You remain silent, feeling a whirlwind of emotions within you that threaten to sweep you away, and your heart continues to pound harder against your chest. He meets your eyes, and for the first time, his coolly collected demeanour cracks with the subtle yet sheepish smile unfurling on his lips as he rubs his nape. “I had some help from the guys and a contractor friend of Wooseok to come over to supervise the final condition of the amenities for safety reasons, but I crafted and assembled the swings on my own. Besides, it’s my idea in the first place.”

Your heart swells with so much affection as he takes pride in his hard work in the way he speaks confidently and takes the rightful credit. Just then, something clicks in your mind as you recall. “Is that why it was always so hard to see your face on most days since two weeks ago? Because you were busy planning and working on this beautiful wonderland?” You ask, your voice trembling with emotions.

You can’t lie that you are on the verge of bursting into a torrent of tears even though your waterline is void of tears as you think about how hard he has been working that even on the nights you slept with him, you noticed faint lines of exhaustion on his countenance. It deeply touches the depth of your heart, most especially when he thought of your future kids.

His eyes soften as he notices the way yours seem to glisten yet so beautifully under these fairy lights. “Yes, and it was all worth it for our future kids.” He says softly, his hand cradling your face with his thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. “I know it’s way too early to build a fun sanctuary for our kids, and I’m not even sure if you ever want kids, but that’s okay because this place is for you too. You can come here anytime and whenever.”

“I do want to have kids with you, Hee. More than anything.” Emotions manage to seep through the crack in your voice as you look into his eyes with unconcealing sentiment. You place your hand above his and lean into his touch, not realising a single teardrop manages to escape the corner of your eye as it rolls down your cheek that prompts him to wipe it away with his thumb. “Thank you for your hard work and this beautiful gift for our kids.”

Heeseung smiles in return before dipping his head and pressing his lips into yours, kissing you slowly with a careful gentleness, but you can feel his love pouring into the kiss as you reciprocate. You don’t even complain when the kiss lasts shortly as he pulls away first before resting his forehead against yours, basking in the serenity and tender intimacy that wraps around you.

“I love you, Y/N Kang,” He whispers affectionately before placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened in my life.”

“I love you too, Hee,” You reciprocate, your eyes roaming around his chiselled yet beautiful features and burning them into your memory. You grab his hand and tug at it, a silent permission of wanting him to follow you around to explore. “Can we─”

“Of course, we can.” Heeseung says with a warm smile before you proceed to drag him with you, your pace and demeanour displaying exuberance. 

You begin your exploration in every part of the beautiful sanctuary with unbridled enthusiasm while Heeseung only watches and chuckles fondly at you, but he is attentive enough to prevent you from potentially falling or hurting yourself when you climb up the treehouse to explore and try out the slide or when he pushes you as you sit on the swing. You even carve out your initials on the tree trunk just below the treehouse with him, as well as the date, wanting it to be a permanent engraving for your future kids to see.

“Thank you for today.” You break the comfortable silence as you are now lying on the ground with him, facing the starry night with your head resting on his arm and attached to his side, seeking each other’s body warmth despite your still drenched clothes. You adjust your position, turning your body sideways to face him with your arm hugging him comfortably as if he’s your bolster. “I love everything that you have done, and…”

Your words become mushy as exhaustion begins to dawn on you, eliciting a chuckle from him, seeing the way your eyelids are struggling to stay open. “You can go to sleep, my love.” He murmurs, stroking your cheek gently as you drift off to your dreamland. It isn’t long until Heeseung is tempted as well, facing you with his eyes closed and his arms cocooning you, sleeping under the glinting stars.

But of course, just when you think that everything is all well and good, you receive texts from your best friends in Seoul to remind you of the monthly FaceTime tonight, and that is when realisation hits you that they haven’t been informed of your established relationship yet. You also doubt that Jennifer told them because if she did, the other two would have already bombarded your notifications.

Though you have no reason to fret over the outcome of revealing your relationship to Wonyoung and Karina since they were understanding and giving you advice a few months back when they were here, still, you can’t help with your overthinking mind of the worst possible outcome, worrying that they may not be as accepting as Jennifer.

“Hey, babes,” You greet your beautiful best friends right after they accept your call. You decide to settle in the living room, seated on the floor with your back rested against the large sectional sofa and your laptop on the coffee table while the guys are nowhere to be seen.

You try your best not to sound nervous, mustering a small smile at your best friends on your laptop screen. Jennifer must have noticed it first in the way she looks at you with knowing eyes while her pink lips twitch into a faint smirk.

Just when you intend to give her a glare, you are interrupted by Karina, her tone sounding astonished. “Girl, is that a whole new living room I see in your background? It looks massive.” 

“Since when did you move into a new apartment?” Wonyoung asks with genuine curiosity, her eyes narrowing at you with the slightest suspicion that has you swallowing your spit hard.

“The thing is, I’m living with the guys now, and it’s permanent,” You go straight to the point without beating around the bush as you want to get this over with. You curl your fingers into fists to prevent them from trembling while your resolve is teetering in the way your pupils shake, feeling unnerved by their unreadable expressions except Jennifer’s. “Which also means that I’m in a relationship with them. Yes, the four of them all at once. We’ve been together for three months or so.”

There is a pregnant pause with a rather painful silence emanating from them, as though they need some time to process this revelation, and you wince visibly, only to be taken by surprise at the positive change in their countenance.

“Details, Y/N! You know we love details, especially the juicy ones!” Karina demands in a whine, her sharp eyes displaying genuine interest that has your frayed nerves allayed. “There is absolutely no way you’re getting away without telling us how it happened.”

You groan out half-playfully as you rub your face, because as much as you want to, it feels repetitive to let them know what you told Jennifer back then and the fact that you have to rack through your memory. “It’s a long story.” 

“Summarise it for us, then.” Wonyoung is just as insistent as Karina, their eyes displaying impatience and expectation, and you know that you cannot refuse them, and so you begin to divulge to them, albeit keeping some details concealed.

“I mean, if you are happy with them, then we’re fine with it,” Wonyoung gives her conclusion as soon as you finish, and while you are more than glad that they’re accepting, you become easily distracted by four familiar yet handsome figures sauntering into the living room. “But tell your boyfriends that if they ever hurt you again, we’ll hunt them down and chop off their dicks.”

“Wony!” You exclaim, appalled and in disbelief by her warning that is uttered calmly while her face displays no remorse for the vulgarity that left her mouth, but more importantly, the guys heard her loud and clear, as evident in the look on their faces.

“Yeah, you heard that, guys?” Karina adds fuel to the fire as she quickly grasps the embarrassment on your face that your lovers are in the same room as you. “You’ll have us to deal with again if you dare to hurt our precious Y/N.”

“I can assure you that they wouldn’t do anything to hurt me,” You affirm assertively despite the warm temperature persisting in your cheeks as you ignore their amusing gaze on your face. “I’m sorry to cut our FaceTime short, but I’ll catch up with you girls in our next session. Love you.”

After bidding your goodbyes, you close your laptop, still refusing to meet their eyes. “Well, that certainly was something.” Jay speaks up, and you can’t resist looking at him just because of the attractive drawl in his voice. Your cheeks flush even more as he smirks at you, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. 

“Sorry, they’re still protective over me,” You tell them sheepishly as you rise from the floor and gravitate towards them, unable to resist the magnetic pull before Sunghoon grasps the first opportunity to hold you in his possession. You look up at him with your arms around his body, your lips forming into a small pout. “But I swear they won’t chop off your dicks. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Of course, you’ll make sure of that, or else we’ll be experiencing another brat moment of you being deprived of our dicks.” Jake remarks with a chuckle, his lips adorning a devilish grin that has you groaning out in embarrassment before you bury your face into Sunghoon’s chest while the rest join in to tease you the same.

“Don’t worry, princess. We’re not in the slightest feeling threatened by them.” Sunghoon chuckles breathily, his hands cradling your face with the sulky pout that remains adorned on your lips to which he can’t resist giving you a smooch. “Besides, why would we feel threatened when we made a promise to always protect and cherish you?”

“I know, Hoonie,” You say softly, your eyes gazing tenderly at him and the others while your heart swells with irrevocable affection and trust. You sigh softly before beaming with a smile, deciding to dismiss the air of melancholy around you. “Anyway, shall we start preparing snacks for our game and movie night?”

With that, Sunghoon whisks you off to the kitchen with Jay trailing behind you while Heeseung and Jake proceed to convert the modular sofa into a reversible sleeper chaise bed that is rather massive to fit six people in for movie night later, and thus your first weekly Friday fun night begins ─ the fun part consists of you preparing snacks and baking last-minute sweet goods with Jay while Sunghoon every so often clings to you and distracts you with kisses, earning him a glare from his best friend.

And so, the remainder of your night is nothing short of bliss, having to spend more quality time with four of your boyfriends at once. You are not even fazed by the fact that you lost four times in a row against time, your laughter being accompanied by their playful banter and finding great joy in being in the presence of the ones who occupied your heart, and before you know it, time flies fast as movie night commences.

The movie that is still playing on the massive television has lost its essence in keeping you captivated as your eyes begin to wander elsewhere. Presently, the five of you are nestled in the sofa with a fleecy duvet shielding your bodies from the cold temperature and pillows supporting the back of your heads, which isn’t necessary for you, considering you are being cocooned in both Jake and Jay’s arms as you are right in the middle, not that you have any complaints.

“This is the happiest I’ve been in months,” You break the comfortable silence, feeling awfully sentimental as tears are wetting in your waterline while a soft smile touches your lips. You look at them, noticing their eyes attentively on you with equal fondness. “I’m glad that you all didn’t give up on me, even when you thought that finding me would be impossible.”

“Well, we have Sunghoon to thank for that,” Jake murmurs, his hand reaching up to cradle your face while Jay soothes you with an affectionate rub on your tummy. 

“Why are you tearing up, my love?” Heeseung asks gently, drawing your attention to him. Just the tenderness in his eyes is enough to make you burst into a rivulet of tears, feeling overwhelmed by their unconditional love, but you hold back the dams.

“I’m just happy,” You manage to utter, your voice trembling with emotions while a tear escapes the corner of your eye. “Thank you for loving me.”

“No, baby, thank you for accepting us back,” Jay insists softly as he grabs your hand and places a kiss on your palm, a gesture of affection that always has your heart flutter.

“You do know that you’re not stuck with us forever, even if you decide to change your mind?” Jake chuckles breathily, pressing a kiss on your temple, but you are no fool to dismiss the darkness that belies his light-hearted tone.

“I would love nothing more,” You say with a smile, baring your heart and soul, which are theirs to cherish forever. “I love you guys.”

“We love you too, princess,” Sunghoon reciprocates, and with a few more words exchanged mindlessly, the animation on the bright screen is forgotten and neglected, and soon enough, the five of you have inevitably drifted off to the same dreamland.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

In the serene confines of your room, the gradual evening sunray filters through your window, painting delicate tapestry across the ceiling. Humming a familiar tune, you sift through your wardrobe, your eyes and hands meticulously searching for the dress you had prepared and ironed three days in advance.

A delicate smile touches your lips as soon as you find the dress before grabbing it with your fingers, careful enough not to crease the ironed fabric. After slipping on the dress, you exit your wardrobe, and the way you move with grace has got a certain someone hypnotised as he stands by the doorway before deciding to watch you in a silent admiration, leaning sideways against the frame with his hands tucked in his pockets.

But you are too preoccupied to notice his presence as you are seated in front of the vanity mirror to apply the appropriate make-up that is not too glamorous but enough to enhance your features. Completing the touch with a cherry red lip tint and your favourite perfume, you move over to the full-length mirror to marvel at the final transformation with a small satisfied smile on your lips.

The black dress holds a blend of elegance and allure as it accentuates your contours perfectly while the low-cut flaunts your cleavage with the familiar platinum ring necklace resting delicately below your clavicle. You decide to let loose your natural locks as they cascade down your shoulders. Just when you think you are ready, you forgot about a pair of earrings that Jay gifted you last night.

The whole process of beautifying yourself probably took an hour, but it is a necessity since tonight is a little special. Unfortunately, it is not a date night, but rather, Jay’s company is hosting a private event tonight, and the rest of your boyfriends, including you, are part of the exclusive guests ─ of course, having been personally invited by Jay himself.

Initially, you refused to go even after being relentlessly coaxed by your boyfriends, but you couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in Jay’s eyes any longer, and so you begrudgingly agreed. Your intention is to be a good girlfriend and moral support to your boyfriend. Plus there will be free food and drinks.

As you examine yourself for another time, your eyes trail to the figure decked out in a black blouse with the sleeves rolled up to his veiny arms that also display his tattoos, who has been standing and watching you by the doorway with dark, attentive eyes.

“Jay, you scared me.” You chuckle nervously as your heart continues to beat erratically, watching him in the mirror as he ambles towards you with his dark eyes looking as though they are about to devour you whole. “How long have you been watching me?”

“For a while now,” Jay admits nonchalantly, his dark eyes scanning you from head to toe appreciatively with a tinge of fondness, but there is an unmistakable lust swirling in them, affecting you right in the core. “You got me fully mesmerised, baby.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as Jay stops directly behind you, leaving no space in between your bodies as his warmth melds with yours. You watch him silently in the mirror, his hands abandoning your hips to wrap around your waist, which feels like a sensual hug in the way his body is feeling you up and his dark eyes flicker to meet yours in the mirror.

“You’re in the mood,” You point out rather breathlessly, feeling dizzy at the intoxicating fuse of his strong cologne and his body heat. With his lips pressing down on your shoulder, you can’t help but melt against him as you tilt your neck to allow more easy access for him to assault you with sensual kisses. 

“Babygirl, I’m always in the mood whenever I’m around you. How can I not be when you look truly exquisite?” He says lowly, his husky voice igniting the heat pooling in your core dangerously and his warm breath hitting your skin. He presses one last kiss on the sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting a mewl from you before he returns his dark gaze to the mirror with a suggestive smirk playing on his lips. “You have no idea how badly I need to ruin you now.”

“Jay, we can’t─” You gasp softly at the sensation of his prominent bulge pressing into your bums that intensifies the heat pooling in your core. Your pulse drums in your ears while your eyes follow his tattooed hand sliding down your tummy, heading straight for your throbbing heat. “You can have me after the event or tomorrow. Just not now, please?” “I don’t think I can wait that much longer, angel baby.” Jay smirks, seeing the emotions in your hooded eyes contradict your words and your staggering breaths as his hand gets closer to the intended journey, but too caught up in the nearly blissful erotica that wraps around you like an intoxicating haze, you fail to realise another figure entering your room.

“So this is what the two of you have been doing,” Sunghoon accuses with a disbelieving scoff, and yet amusement is evident in his tone, prompting you to switch your position to view both of your dashing lovers better. “Might want to reconsider fucking around. Our chauffeur is arriving anytime soon now, so we better get going─”

The moment Sunghoon lays his eyes on you, he stops dead in his tracks while he feels his throat going dry at the gorgeous sight of you. He quickly recovers himself, clearing his throat. “Damn, princess, you look─” His heart races at a ridiculous speed upon seeing the shyness written all over your beautiful face, and he can’t seem to find a fitting word to describe your divine beauty, utterly speechless.

Despite your shyness, you flutter your curled eyelashes at him in a sly manner. Sunghoon recognises before meeting his eyes that seem to darken with a familiar desire. The corners of your lips curve into a small yet mischievous smile as you fiddle at the fabric of Jay’s collar mindlessly. “I believe that the word you are looking for is beautiful?” You say so slyly, and fuck, Sunghoon feels undeniably turned on by you.

Sunghoon takes two steps forward before extending his hand out to you. “Come here, princess.” He orders, and there is a discernible crack in his voice mid-sentence before he covers up with a cough, but not quick enough as he sees the way you break into a fit of chuckles while Jay watches the entire thing with a smirk.

Sunghoon lets out a frustrating sound between a growl and a gruff, displaying his impatience and annoyance in the way Jay is still teasing him with a smirk on his lips, whereas you seem to join the latter as you take your sweet time in moving towards him and accepting his extended hand.

Sunghoon catches you off guard when he takes a big step forward and wastes no time in grabbing your hand firmly before pulling you into him eagerly while you let out a startled squeal. He dives straight into your neck, unable to stave off the temptation, and places a lingering kiss on your skin. His desire becomes tenfold as your sweet yet exquisite perfume hits his nostril.

You gasp softly as he nips at your skin, and you arch your neck submissively to him on instinct, fluttering your eyes closed at the pleasurable sensation of him kissing and licking your neck. Your clit throbs once again when he presses his body against yours with his arms caging you, making you feel his prominent bulge.

“Maybe we should ditch the private event. I’d rather spend all night buried into you,” Sunghoon nearly growls out his words, his voice gravelly deep, and it feels like he has no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

But thankfully, you still have some rationality left in you. “Sunghoon!” You gasp at his words before attempting to push him away but fail miserably when you melt against his warmth. You sigh softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You know we can’t. It’s important for us to be there for Jay.”

Jay shoots his best friend a smug look while the latter rolls his eyes in return. Sunghoon reluctantly pulls away from you, but not before giving you a peck on the lips. He smirks down at you. “If you say so, princess. But the offer still stands even after the event, yeah?”

Before you can retort, another pair of footsteps can be heard outside of your opened door, prompting the three of you to look at the incomer. “Hey, guys. We really need to get going. Our chauffeur has just arrived, and Heeseung is waiting downstairs─” 

Jake pauses abruptly at the same time he barges into your room, and unlike Sunghoon, he continues to walk slowly towards you with his widened eyes fixated on you despite the fact that he is speechless, utterly in awe of your stunning beauty. “Holy fuck, sweetheart?” He says so breathlessly.

“Jaeyun,” You utter his name softly, your lips curving into a smile while your eyes soften at the way his features soften with a familiar sentiment as he examines you with clear appreciation. You feel Sunghoon’s arms loosen around you, as though he is permitting you to go to Jake, and so you naturally gravitate to him.

“My beautiful girl, you never cease to amaze me.” Jake breathes out in awe as soon as you stand in front of him, but he seems to be examining you for another time, as if the woman in his view is indeed a goddess. His Goddess, damn right. The warmth of his palms feels comforting as he cups your cheeks. A chuckle escapes you when his face twists into a playful scowl, but the possessiveness glinting in his eyes is not lost on you. “I’d hate for the others to look at you when you’re dolled up gorgeously like this.”

Jake captures your lips in a kiss, a short-lived one, and yet you can feel his burning desire even after he pulls away, but his lips remain grazing against yours, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I should hunt down and kill whoever dared to glance in your way after the private event.” He says softly, and you have no idea whether or not his words were meant to be playful.

“You look handsome, Jaeyun.” You compliment him earnestly as you marvel at his striking handsomeness, decked out in a suit similar to Jay and Sunghoon’s while his hair is gelled to the back with only a few strands falling over his chiselled forehead. The butterflies in your tummy are practically fluttering intensely as you look at your three lovers to appreciate their handsomeness for another time. “You all do.”

Before Jake can go in for another kiss, Jay’s stern voice cuts through the air. “Alright, let’s get going before we have another love fest here.”

“Fuck fest, you mean?” Sunghoon chuckles as the four of you proceed to depart from your room while you walk hand in hand with Jake, his warmth encasing you.

“You’re not entirely wrong, mate,” Jake shoots Sunghoon a mischievous grin, whereas Jay shakes his head, but a small smirk plays at the corner of his lips. Jake looks at you, and this time, you can feel his heated gaze that is burning with insatiable hunger for you as he licks his lips. “Our wife looks delicious enough to be devoured right here and now.”

“I’m not your wife yet, Jaeyun.” You remind him for the umpteenth time with a short huff, and yet it affects you just the same as you feel your cheeks warming rapidly the same way your heart races.

Initially, when they started to refer to you as their wife, every wire in your system went short-circuited, and you had no idea how to react. Sure, the five of you have been heavily involved in a serious discussion about tying the knots with you legally and officially in the near future, and the guys were determined to make it happen, but to you it was too soon for them to be referring to you as their wife and throw the term around so carelessly.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to be our wife.” Jay adds nonchalantly, draping his arm around your shoulder while you remain hand-locked with Jake. Despite shooting the three men the same glare, you can’t ignore the tension that has been building up ever since they came into your room.

You release a shaky breath as you decide to focus on the view in front of you, but it turns out to be a mistake, because one moment you’re descending the stairs, and then the next, you lock eyes with the only lover who hasn’t seen you until now.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you shamelessly examine him from head to toe. The all-black ensemble fits his toned physique perfectly, and his black hair is neatly parted so his forehead can be seen. Your heart swells with love as you see the familiar ring necklace that rests below his clavicle. When your eyes return to meet him, you swear you can feel your womanhood clenching with arousal as you notice the way his eyes darken with palpable desire despite the nonchalance in his demeanour.

His dark eyes continue to greedily drinking you in even as you finally stand in front of him. A soft smirk ghosts on his lips momentarily before he gives you a small smile and extends his hand out to you in a gentlemanly manner. “Shall we, my beloved?” Heeseung asks gently, even waiting patiently as you slowly unclasp your hand from Jake’s to take Heeseung’s, only for him to press a kiss on your knuckles while he maintains eye contact with you. “You look breathtaking, pretty girl.”

“Thank you,” You mumble, feeling utterly diffident as you are now being surrounded by four deadly yet dashing men, even though you have always been surrounded by them 24/7. You hope that your palm is not sweating just yet from all the nervousness as you busily cast Heeseung a small smile. “You look handsome, Hee.”

Heeseung reciprocates with a dashing grin before he begins to assist you on the way to the chauffeur, with the three musketeers following closely behind you rather protectively, as though posing as your bodyguard. Your eyes sparkle with fascination upon seeing the view of the sleek black stretch limousine parked directly outside of the entrance door, waiting for you.

As though the routine is rehearsed, Sunghoon takes the initiative to open the door for you before Heeseung assists you inside, to which you bend down your height slightly as you proceed to walk in. Your lips part open, and your eyes widen at the luxury of the entirety of the interior of the limousine, nearly bumping your head if it weren't for Heeseung’s hand cradling the back of your head before you continue to move further in until you finally settle on the leather seat.

For some reason, you resort to silence as you watch your lovers settling in, hyper aware of the previous tension that has resumed its course in the enclosed space. Your heart hammers harder as soon as Sunghoon sits next to your right while Heeseung is on your left. Not too long after, the limousine begins to accelerate, and the guys proceed to converse on a topic you don’t understand.

But the tension remains, thickening every second that has you finding yourself suffocated. It doesn’t even help that the intoxicating mixture of their strong cologne has your head spinning while you attempt to repress your burning desire in the way you squeeze your thighs together. You bite down on your lip harder, feeling your cunt throbbing with incessant need. Thankfully, you brought your emergency make-up kit so you can reapply your lipstick on your lips again.

However, throughout the ride, you fail to notice that Heeseung has been observing you from time to time, noticing the familiar pattern in your body language, bringing a discreet smirk to his lips. 

“Pretty girl, what’s wrong?” Your heart skips a beat when Heeseung places his hand on your exposed thigh, and despite the gentleness in his tone, you can discern a familiar deception that has you anticipating both with excitement and fear.

It isn’t exactly that you fear them, but with the thick tension hanging in the air and waiting to snap, the enclosed space of the limousine, the intoxication of their cologne, as well as the predatory gazes at your figure, you fear that the immaculate state of the limousine might turn into a sullied mess.

“Nothing,” You answer him, your voice sounding quiet, and yet it sounds loud to their ears, prompting the four men to exchange looks.

“Don’t lie to me, love,” Heeseung squeezes the flesh of your thigh, a warning you recognise, and yet you feel an unwise temptation to display your defiance to him, just a little, because the desire that is throbbing in every part of you desperately implores you to be released. “Tell me, what do you want?” His soft voice carries an undertone of dark sensuality, and you know that his question is an invitation.

“Speak up, princess,” Sunghoon joins in, adding fuel to the fire as he presses his body against yours, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. He grabs you by the chin firmly enough to force you to look at Heeseung in the eyes, and in doing so, allows you to catch the familiar hunger on Jay and Jake’s features as they also wear the same smirk on their lips. “Tell Heeseung exactly what you want. You know what you want, princess.”

It’s so mean, the way they all seem to be tag-teaming you, and how mean Sunghoon sounds, how Heeseung’s dark eyes are penetrating into you as though he is able to read your twisted mind, but if anything, everything seems to turn you on further, throwing you into the abysmal to the point of no return. Subconsciously, you bite down on your lower lip while your eyes become glossy with terrible need, drawing Heeseung’s attention to your bitten lip.

“I need you so bad.” You shamelessly admit with shaky breaths, feeling utterly humiliated by the knowing smirks they collectively wear on their lips, but you don’t give a fuck anymore. You allow your eyes to roam around his body and bite down your lips once more on purpose, knowing that Heeseung hates it when he isn’t the one doing it. “It doesn’t even help that you look hot in a suit.” You purr with an irresistible seduction that they can never resist.

“You heard her. Give what the wife wants, Heeseung,” Jay says loudly, leaning against the leather seat comfortably with his legs spread open while his clasped hands support the back of his head, as if the view in front of him is a show. “Driver, close the partition.”

On cue, the driver heeds Jay’s command, and in doing so, aids the now heated atmosphere with the partition finally closed. The next thing you know, you are being manhandled and immediately find yourself perched on top of Heeseung, causing your dress to hike up way past your thighs.

-from this point onwards would be the smut part but didn’t get to continue </3

unwritten scene 1 (the smut part in the limousine)

unwritten scene 2:

unwritten scene 3(the ending):

[sportswriters]

tsunami - w. eklund

pairing: william eklund x reader | fluff, slight angst, a bit suggestive at the end | friends to lovers | wc: 3k+ | warnings: one of the main characters got cheated on in the past | namu's notes: i was WILLING to write a smut for this one but i'm struggling to do it, so i'll post it before ella reads the open ending (she might actually k*ll me). yeah, byeee!!

i'm going under storm, lightning, thunder i'm drowning in the deepest of truths fuck, i think i'm falling for you — tsunami, by niki zefanya

it happened during a gathering with your friends. well, they weren’t around at the time, some of them lost the game you played to decide who would run to the grocery store before the second period started. you and william were left alone in the living room, your legs over his lap on the couch, which he was mindless tracing his fingers on your skin. the commercial playing on tv was something about taking your lover to one of the most beautiful places on earth — valentine’s day was close by. the invitation got lost on the tip of your tongue, that’s when you realized.

"oh gosh."

"what?" he looked at you.

"i like you!"

"you what?"

"i think i'm falling in love with you!"

you were terrifyingly excited over something so sensitive, that’s why william kept his eyes on you, waiting for the laugh telling him it was a joke. but what he got was a shy giggle as you jumped off the couch, covering your face.

he knew you were aware of his issues with romantic feelings, he knew you were aware of his past relationship. what just happened?

"y/n..."

“goodness, this is so fun! i know you're emotionally unavailable, don't worry,” you pointed.

"it’s not that— listen, you just confessed out of nowhere and it looks like i just proposed to you!"

"yes! i finally know how it feels! isn't it great?!"

william frowned, utterly confused by your reaction. he couldn’t get why you were so happy when you knew he didn’t feel the same. his first girlfriend was his first love back in sweden, but things got messy when he got drafted to the nhl. that was when her behavior started to make sense; how she kept on shaming him for being romantic, that he didn’t have to be so performative about his love — even in private. “that’s not the aura of a professional athlete, okay? you’re so charming, try being more cooler towards me, that’ll keep me interested,” she used to say. he was so blinded by his feelings for her that he didn’t realize how alarming that was. he molded his behavior to please her, just to be cheated on with a guy that was cooler than him, the ideal man to just have fun and enjoy popularity. william didn’t know he was molding himself to become a ladder. then when other women looking for fun started showing up in his life, he came to terms with the environment he would live in from that moment on.

“y/n, i’m not ready for this. we talked about it before."

"listen," you paused to look at the door, lowering your voice so you wouldn’t get caught by your friends. "it’s like an experiment."

"what the hell? what's that supposed to mean? you're scaring me." william put a hand over his chest.

you sat by his side once again, as ready as you would be for a business presentation.

"i want to experience this. i want to give you my feelings and enjoy this while i can. since you won't feel the same, i can easily get over you later."

"that's not how it works, dear."

"i will make it work."

william covered his face and groaned. damn, she’s adorable, he thought.

"please, please, please!" you begged. "this is such a big moment for me, you know i’ve never been in love before."

"and why would you like me?" he stared, making you gulp.

"i have a lot of nice things to tell you, but only if you agree. i'd never do something to make you uncomfortable."

the longest william pondered, the longest you scanned his face — and the need to kiss him all over was strong. he noticed when you got lost in your own thoughts and squinted, holding a smile to himself.

“alright, let’s do this.”

the touch of his hand on your cheek brought you back, making a radiant grin flash on your lips. you went to hug him, but stopped mid action, silently asking for permission. when he crossed his arms around your waist, everything made sense. the scent of his cologne was usually the one that got stuck on your clothes because not only you were always together, but william used to be the last one to hug you goodbye after taking you home. the warmth of his body was also responsible for everything you were feeling in that moment, which kind of hurt to think that you wouldn’t be able to be this close anymore without making it weird for him.

later, you got home and did your night routine, excited about your team’s win and for the realization about your feelings. william wasn’t allowed to take you home that night, “i might not be able to hold myself from kissing you, so let me get my uber in peace.” you didn’t realize how he had to turn around so you wouldn’t see him blush.

you: permission to be corny eky: sighs- permission granted you: i hope you show up in my dreams tonight, hopefully it won’t be weird i won’t tell you if it is eky: and if it’s sexy? you: do not flirt with a woman in love if you’re not willing to give her what she wants eky: my lips are sealed. you: i like them, btw eky: my lips? you: yeah, love when you smirk trying to pretend i’m not the funniest person you know and i love when you laugh out loud, even when i can hear from a distance i love how it makes your nose wrinkle, it’s adorable eky: i’m not adorable, but thank you you: you are to me i’m so excited to be cheeky when i notice all the things that made me feel like this eky: glad you’re having a good time you: sorry you don’t feel good about romance anymore, thank you for not being weird about me eky: it’s okay, you deserve to know how it feels i’ll try to be a great first love for you you: oh my heartbeat is speeding up right now, gotta blast eky: cute sweet dreams you: goodnight, eky

you took a long time to sleep, your racing thoughts didn’t give you a break. your mind kept replaying the events and planning everything for the next day. one of them was telling one of your closest friends, so she would prevent you from going crazy when necessary. the following days, you worked with a silly smile on your face, dismissing your colleagues that teased you about it. you spent some of your breaks writing love letters, giggling like a high school girl because of how exciting everything was. the butterflies on your stomach, the scenarios playing in your brain, the chills every time you thought about william’s touch. you allowed yourself to be delusional, to enjoy every sensation of pure joy that love delivered.

“how will he talk about other girls if he knows you like him? it’s not like he can keep acting normal,” lena said after you spilled what was going on.

“he already didn’t before, so.” you shrugged. “have you seen him with someone lately?”

“no, but that’s not the point. you want to enjoy the feeling of being in love, but you need to be realistic that it will hurt because it’s unrequited.”

“yeah, he’ll keep on living his life…”

“i love it for you, it’s such a beautiful feeling.” she held your hand. “i need you to be careful, don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“i get it, thank you for helping me back down a little,” you said, a tight smile on your lips. “i’ll be seeing him tonight, i’ll give him the love letters i wrote.”

“love letters?” she gasped and started laughing. “girl, you’re down bad!”

“i am!” you admitted, covering your face. “i’m wondering if this is considered some kind of love bombing because i’ll have to get into a lockdown at work for the next week.”

“well, depending on his reaction to your actions, he might show up at your door just to spend time with you,” she suggested. “you know eky is a romantic, he’s just been through a lot.”

“yeah, don’t want to scare him off,” you worried. “well, once last month i wasn’t responding enough so he showed up with groceries and nagged at me until i took a break.”

your friend squinted her eyes, suspicious.

“have you ever considered how comfortable eky is with you in comparison with the rest of us?”

“i didn’t, it’s just that i’m more of a touchy person, but he has other love languages with everybody.”

“i agree, i love my quality time with him, but i sense it’s so different from what i see between you two.”

“okay, don’t do this. i’m already struggling not to jump on him, i don’t want to think of the possibility of any truth in his flirting.”

“he flirts with you?!”

“yeah, well, he has these witty responses to my confessions. you know how cocky he can be.”

“y/n, my love, i need you to be so serious right now.”

“it’s enough that he’s letting me enjoy this first love thing, i won’t go further than that. period.”

“okay, okay. once again, be careful, but pay a little more attention. i might not be overreacting here.”

you arrived at william’s place with your heart in your sleeve. that could be a metaphor or simply all the words you wrote in those journal pages, mixed with cute doodles and printed pictures of you two. you were focusing on not being embarrassed when he opened the door. william looked like the cuddliest human being on earth, his soft cologne taking up your senses when he immediately hugged you.

“hey, dear. craving sushi tonight? it might be here at any moment.”

“sushi is nice,” you agreed, throwing yourself on his couch.

“how was work today?”

“pretty calm right now, to be honest. but we’ll be locking down for the next week to step up in the research of this new found element.”

“oh, are we talking about nasa classified shit?”

“no!” you burst out laughing. “it’s just that we need to have a lot ready for the seminar at the end of the month, so i’ll be working even at home.”

“got it. so i won’t be seeing you for a whole week?”

your eyes softened instantly.

“i think so. i don’t know how i can make it work, lena already said she’ll be texting every three hours to check if i’m taking care of myself.”

“well, i can do that in person. did that before, no?”

“yes, indeed. but what about the games?”

“i can’t accept that you won’t watch them, so i gotta show up and talk about each of them. i’ll be resting as well, so don’t worry about me.”

“okay, you know where the key is.” you smiled. “now tell me how you’re expecting the next matches.”

couple hours later, after you and william devoured the japanese food, he put on the highlights of a game you missed recently. he ended up as one of the top stars, skating around and scoring like he owned the opponent’s ice. at some point, though, your focus changed from the tv to his face, expressions immersed in every aspect of his story.

“y/n.”

“i can’t stop looking at you, what the hell,” you muttered, regretting as soon as it came out.

“kinda creepy,” he teased.

“i know!” you admitted, averting your gaze. “i just like seeing you happy, that’s all.”

his eyebrows raised, william couldn’t hold back the grin hearing you be so forward with your words. he liked watching you be in love, although he still didn’t know how to deal with the fact that he was the one you were in love with.

the silence didn’t go unnoticed by you, which suddenly made you self conscious.

“too far?”

“hm?” william was brought back. “no, don’t worry.”

“now i’m thinking back on giving you the love letters i wrote.”

william gulped, turning his whole body towards you.

“you wrote me love letters?”

“you don’t have to read them, to be honest. it was good for me to reflect on what made me like you romantically when i already loved you as a friend.” unable to hold his gaze, you looked back to the tv now paused in a random player. “and it’s been kind of hard not to touch you like usual or feeling all the time that i’m making you uncomfortable or how you can’t talk to me about other women because you don’t want to hurt me.”

william held your hand, stopping your ramble.

“dear, look at me.” he touched your cheek. “i love you, alright? nothing’s changing that. i feel honored to be your first love, i don’t feel uncomfortable at all. and there’s no other women to talk about.”

you tilted your head and chuckled, making his hand drop from holding your cheek.

“thank you for reassuring me, eky.”

“well, there’s actually a woman that’s been writing me love letters and i still haven't had the chance to read them. i’ll update you when i do, though.”

you laughed, biting your lower lip to hold a gasp when you noticed he was closer than before, his other hand still holding yours. his warm touch was making you dizzy.

“i saw you sighing and licking your lips, dear. you’re not subtle at all,” he said, finding hilarious how he could watch you be a mess in front of him. he was loving every second of it.

“i wasn’t trying to be. i’m more focused on thinking of something else.”

“yeah? like what?”

“like how i’ll hide my spare key so you won’t actually see me for a week,” you whispered. “i need time away from your touch, ‘cause right now it feels like we both want the same thing.”

you noticed when his eyes quickly dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“and what do you want right now?” he whispered back, a haze starting to grow in his eyes.

“i want to go home and hopefully not dream of you tonight,” you said, standing up mid sentence. it confused you to see william seemingly disappointed with your reaction. “this week will be good for us, i mean, i can’t wait to go back to normal.”

william hummed quietly, his body defeated against the couch’s backrest. he was exactly the opposite of you, his eyes wouldn’t leave you for a second.

“i’ll be counting the days ‘till i see you.”

“william!”

his eyes went wide when your tone raised.

“the past week has been fun, but i’m starting to feel sorry for myself.” you bit the inside of your cheek. “i’m in love with you, that’s nice, now it’s time to start getting over it so i can be you dear friend again.”

william frowned, but no words came out of his mouth.

“i think i exposed myself enough, so i won’t give you the letters. i’ll take them as memories of a good time,” you decided, a smile tinged with sadness. “in the future, when it happens again, i’ll recognize it easily enough to do something about it sooner.”

“dear, i’m really sorry.”

“no, it’s my fault. i know what you went through, i know your reasons, that’s why it needs to stop now.” you nodded. “i don’t feel bad about liking you, though, it’s not that. i’m glad my heart made the right choice, it was just not the right timing.”

you got your purse and headed for the door. you heard a frustrated sound coming from him, but you didn’t look back.

“förbaskat, this is not fair,” he muttered, standing up to catch you before you opened the door. “y/n, wait.”

“yeah?”

“i can’t stop myself from living a real love story just because someone else hurt me. i don’t know why my mind got so blurred when i know i’m happy with you, it’s freaking dumb to let you go when i feel the same.”

you didn’t dare to interrupt his train of thought — too shocked to do that, honestly.

“i want to read all your letters, to hear all your confessions, i want to write you my own as well, to tell you beautiful words even though they won’t be as poetic as yours. being loved by you is amazing, loving you is amazing. i don’t know how different it can be from what i already feel. i want you emotionally and physically, i want to be the one you're still in love in the future. so please don’t give up on me yet, let me try to be the boyfriend you deserve.”

william waited, almost out of breath. you just stared back at him, thoughts going crazy around your head.

“eky,” you whispered.

“yes, dear.”

“i have this need right now to kiss the hell out of you. all the touches i held the past week are tingling my skin for having you so close.”

“i can take you, baby. just say the word.”

your purse dropped to the floor, you took a step closer to him.

shake my earth, suck the air out, burn me down it's like you've known me through all my past lives what an evil thought wreck my plans, stop me dead, kiss me now

“your love, give it to me. don’t hold back.”

his hands were all over you in a second. it seemed like william was doing his best to be delicate with the first kiss, but your enthusiasm matched his, which turned everything too intense. your hands went down his sweatshirt, the warmness of his skin against your hands gripped a moan out of the both of you. he reached the back of your thighs and picked you up without warning, ripping a small scream from you, which made you both laugh.

“that was freaking sexy, but don’t scare me like that.”

“sorry,” he pampered you with kisses all over your face. “promise to be more vocal from now on.”

“oh, i expect you to.”

“you’re a freak, dear. hope you’re ready for me.”

[masonmontz]

hey hey hey, hope you like :) 

word count: 1,5k  angst/fluff

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

The house has been silent since Mason left two days ago. And not because he's going to travel with the team, he left because you had a fight.

The wedding took place two months ago, but you had been living together for a few months before that, that's why some stupid arguments were common and soon things were always resolved. 

You and Mason argued because he used to leave the wet towel on the bed, he used your expensive shampoo, the television was too loud, he took all the blankets for himself at night, but always out of nonsense and in the end you were laughing at what you were saying.

But this time Mason was stressed about the terrible season he had at Manchester United, you were stressed because your boss bothered you all day with things that were out of your control and you said terrible things to each other. 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Mason, can you please put your dirty dishes in the kitchen? I cleaned the house today.” You said as you passed him in the living room and saw that he was lying on the couch watching an old Man U match, he had two plates in front of him and a dirty glass. “Clean up any crumbs you dropped.” 

“Oh my God, Y/N, I heard you, please stop being annoying.” He said in an irritated tone, probably because it's the third time you've asked him to take the dirty dishes off the coffee table. “If it's bothering you that much, take it off. When the game is over I'll take it to the kitchen.” 

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” You said angrily and stopped next to the sofa, waiting for Mason to look at you, but he ignored you. “I’m talking to you Mason.” 

“Why do you ask me to do things over and over again?  I heard it the first time, but I don't need to do it the first second after you ask.” 

“I asked you to do this an hour ago.” 

“Because you can't keep anything organized at home. If Rose came to help us every day of the week, we still wouldn't be able to keep the house organized because you leave everything out of place.” You said angrily and Mason rolled his eyes at you, which made you furious. “Don't roll your eyes at me.” 

“Please stop talking for a bit, I need to watch this match for the next game.” 

You laughed in disbelief and couldn't believe Mason was being an asshole. He was in a terrible mood the whole week, it was like male PMS, even you weren't that annoying during your period. 

But instead of letting him watch the game, you did the most childish thing you could, you turned off the television and stood in front of it. Mason looked at you in disbelief and now he was furious with you too. 

“What the hell?” 

“Am I boring? So I can be more. Pick up those dirty dishes and take them to the kitchen. Now.”  

“This is so childish, how old are you? Fifteen?” Mason spoke loudly as he got up from the couch and picked up the dirty dishes from the coffee table. 

“Yes, I'm fifteen years old Mason, and you're probably ten years old since you can't help me at all with cleaning the house.” 

“I pay someone to do this, why do I have to worry about cleaning?” 

“That's the stupidest thing you've ever said.” 

“Know what? I'm fed up with you and this marriage.” 

You couldn't answer Mason when you heard what he said. Mason didn't look at you and went upstairs while you stood in the living room watching him.

Fed up with you? It definitely hurt you more than the fight. 

Mason came down the stairs two minutes later with a backpack and you already had tears in your eyes, but he only looked at you once before leaving.

“I'm leaving.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“To some place where I can be alone and away from you.” 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

You sent him some messages and he didn't respond, but you saw on Manchester United's Instagram that he was going to training normally. 

And you were inconsolable. Just two days were enough for you to miss Mason terribly, and the silent house was sadder than you ever imagined. 

You were sitting on the couch with ice cream watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days for the thousandth time, no tears because you've already cried all afternoon.

The rain falling outside made everything sadder, because you and Mason liked to stay at home on rainy days watching movies together or cooking. Almost every day was good and you were fulfilled after marrying the love of your life, but Mason never told you the things that bothered him. 

Rainy days make you think of calm days, because Mason was the one who brought you calm and peace.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Why did we decide to go out to dinner today?” Mason asked as soon as you both got into the car, panting from running because of the heavy rain. 

“Because I couldn't wait to eat pizza at that Italian restaurant.” You said as you tried to dry off the water with the coat Mason lent you. “Sorry for that.” 

“It’s fine, you know how much I love to go out to dinner with you.” He said, and before he started the car, you threw your arms around his neck, leaving some kisses and making Mason smile. “Hmm, you always know how to make me happy.”

“I always want to make you happy babe.” You said and whispered in his ear, seeing Mason shiver because of your touch. “Perhaps we should have a movie night?”

“You know me so well, Y/N.” 

The way home was quick and soon you and Mason were in comfortable clothes and lying on the huge bed in your bedroom. Mason brought several snacks to the room and even though he knew you didn't like eating in bed because of the dirt, this time you were so happy for him to be with you after a bad week that you didn't even mind. 

“What kind of cliché romcom do you want to watch today?” He asked when he turned on the TV.

“I think today you can choose a movie for us.”

“Oh my god, it's a miracle, I bet tomorrow will be the sunniest day in England.” He joked with you, making you laugh and hug him. 

“Shut up, I always let you choose the film for us.” 

“Yes honey, twice a year.” He rolled his eyes and left a kiss on your forehead. “Just kidding, I love it when you pick a movie for us.”

“And I love you.” You whispered, but he heard you and smiled. 

“And I love you much more, even if you make me watch those cliché romance movies.”

“Our romance is cliché.”

“And it's my favorite, that's why I don't like the others.”

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

Debbie sent you a message with videos of Summer and Mila as they spent the day with their grandparents, so you realized that Mason hadn't told her that he had left home. You didn't even know where he was for the last two days, you didn't know if he was at a friend's house or a hotel. You texted him asking where he was, asking him to come home, but only received silence in response.

You were lost in thought and didn't notice that Mason was standing in the doorway, wet from the rain and with the same backpack he left with two days ago. You only noticed he was home when he coughed on purpose.

You stood up scared when you saw him there, and tears fell when you ran to him and hugged him. Mason held you tightly against him, smelling your perfume that he had been missing. 

“I missed you so much, where have you been?” You cried as you hugged him.

“I was at Mainoo. Oh, I missed you so much, Y/N.” He said and looked at you, wiping your tears. “We will never fight again. Never again, you hear?” 

“I'm sorry for being a pain in the ass, I promise I'll try better.”

“You’re a pain in the ass but you’re my pain in the ass, okay? I don't care if you fight with me for leaving the towel wet or the dishes dirty, I just want you to do all this with me and not with someone else. I'm sorry for leaving, I was childish.”

“I can't believe you left me for two days.”

“Believe me, in the first ten minutes I was already missing you.” He said and kissed you. “And just so you know, I'm going to take a shower and use your expensive shampoo one more time.”

“I'm going to take a shower with you and we're both going to use my expensive shampoo.”

“Can we please have a movie night later? I didn't like watching movies with Mainoo, he's not soft and hot like you.”

“I'm glad to hear that, husband.”

“Mrs. Mount, you know you're the only one for me.”

[bunnisanblog]

a/n: TW!mentions of bleeding, smut, kinda fluffy towards the end because I’m a slut for soft!toji 🙂‍↕️

summary: In contrast to his rigid and intimidating appearance, I think Toji is a huge softie when it comes to you - especially when he goes too rough and he sees blood when he pulls his fingers out of you.

He was being very handsy with you throughout the day, part of it is because just being around you puts him in the mood, but he also wanted to be a little annoying tease to see just how turned on he can make you. "F-Fuck Toji... harder, please don't stop," you whimper, your face twisted in pleasure. At this point, he's ramming his fingers into your soaking wet pussy and curling it at just the right spot, making you squeeze your eyes shut because of how good it felt. Toji groans at the sight before him - you, a moaning mess with bright red cheeks, just begging for him to fuck you even harder. He smirks down at you. “You want me to fuck this slutty pussy of yours?” You desperately nod up at him and scream when he adds another finger. Your head is spinning; you don’t know if you should focus on how damn good his fingers are pumping into you or how hard his cock is getting. He licks his lips and stares at how messy he’s making you. “Let me get your pretty little pussy ready for—” He stops mid-sentence and looks at his fingers in shock. This causes you to sit up and look at him with concern. “What’s wrong? Why did you…” You ask, still dazed and disheveled from your fingerfuck session. “Babe, I’m sorry, I think I went a little too rough,” he shyly confesses while being quick on his feet to grab a towel for you. You look down and notice tiny droplets of blood on your bedsheet that’s not enough for a period. Toji notices you up, and his demeanor completely shifts into a much softer and gentler one. He sits in front of you and lightly pushes you down on your back. “It’s okay princess, just relax and let me take care of you properly,” he says in a worried tone, followed by a string of apologies and questions if you’re feeling okay or if anything hurts. His sudden change makes you giggle, which makes him raise an eyebrow at you as if asking why. “You know, for a ruthless, seasoned assassin, did tiny trickles of blood really do a number on you?” You tease. He rolls his eyes but can’t hide his smile, “Not if it’s your blood on my hands.” He makes it a point to place soft kisses all around your face and all over your body, jokingly addressing your abused cunt and saying sorry to her. He ignores your overdramatic pleas that it actually felt so good and that you didn’t hurt at all. And you wanted him to do it again. And again. You reach over and cup his face with your hand, squishing his cheeks in the process. “Hey, don’t apologize for a good time~”

[eyesthatroll]

TOUCH

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: after game care

warning(s): none i believe, didn’t really hardcore edit this, though.

word count: 1.1k

author’s note: is this cringe..? who knows. title is random, couldn’t really think of one. i kind of like this, though, i don’t know. as always, reblogs + constructive criticism are always appreciated. hope you all are doing well, thank you all for 700 followers! that is absolutely bonkers —mari <3

Jack turns the polished doorknob with a gentle, almost reverent touch. The door creaks open just wide enough for him to slip inside, his steps like whispers against the hardwood floor. He carefully eases the door closed, each inch moving with silent precision to preserve the serenity of the room.

His cautious efforts, however, seem almost futile as he enters the dimly lit space. The soft glow of a vintage lamp casts a warm, golden hue across the room, creating a cocoon of muted comfort. In the far corner of the cozy living room, there you were, curled up on the soft leather sectional, your presence barely stirring in the tranquil air. You were wrapped in a world of your own, ensnared by the allure of the latest book you had bought.

With a quiet sigh, he drops his bags by the door, kicking off his shoes, which land on the floor with a soft thud. Only then, did you finally lift your gaze, your awareness slowly dawning like the first light of day.

Pushing your glasses up to rest atop your head, your book becomes momentarily abandoned, your focus shifting toward your boyfriend. A tender smile graces your lips as you greet him, your voice carrying the warmth of affection, 'Hi, my love.'"

He offers you a small smile, his movements deliberate as he limps over to you, a testament to his eagerness to share a proper greeting despite the discomfort from his leg. Leaning in, he tilts his head downward, and his lips tenderly meet yours. He brings his calloused hands up to your face, cradling your cheeks with a delicate touch as his lips become one with yours.

The kiss lasts only for a few moments, before you're pulling away. As you draw back, a subtle frown creases your features, communicating your concern without uttering a word.

In the silent exchange of your expressions, Jack, attuned to your every nuance, shakes his head, discerning your worry. "Don't worry, I'm fine."

He attempts to offer you reassurance, but the subtle hesitation in the way he avoids putting his full weight on his left leg as he moves doesn't align with his words. "What happened to your foot?"

You had witnessed him take a harsh hit against the boards toward the end of the second period. And despite getting back up seemingly unscathed and returning for the third period, the discrepancy in his gait now raises questions.

"My knee," he clarifies, his voice gruff as he steps into the kitchen. He begins to rummage through the refrigerator until his fingers locate a chilled water bottle.

"Did you tell someone?"

Jack's stubbornness and unwavering commitment to hockey, even in the face of injuries, was well-known. He had a tendency to push himself beyond reasonable limits, insisting that he possessed an innate understanding of his body well enough to avoid serious harm. That sentiment did nothing to alleviate your persistent worry.

“No.”

Exhaling a sigh, you shake your head to yourself. “Jack, why n–”

“Leave it alone, baby, please. I’m tired, my body hurts, and I just want to go to bed.”

“Fine.” Dropping your hands in surrender, you end the conversation there. You knew that pushing the conversation any further would only fan the flames of an argument that you had no energy to occupy.

Jack trudges sluggishly upstairs, and you steal a few moments to gather wits about you, before closing your book, leaving it to rest on the coffee table, extinguishing the warm glow of the lamp before heading upstairs.

Upon entering your shared bedroom, you find Jack sitting at the edge of the bed, midway through the process of undressing. He struggles to remove his shirt, wincing in discomfort before abruptly halting.

"Your shoulder too?" You ask, closing the distance between the two of you. As you approach, he subtly spreads his legs to make room for you, and you slip into the space in between them with ease. With a gentle touch, your right hand rises, tucking away the stray, overgrown brown locks that obscure his face.

“Yeah.”

Wordlessly, you take hold of the bottom hem of his shirt, carefully drawing it up and over his head. A hiss of discomfort escapes his lips as his arms are lifted above his head, revealing the pain he had been silently enduring.

"Do you want me to run a bath for you?" you ask, your voice carrying a tender note as you tilted your head slightly at him.

He shakes his head. "Will you rub my back?"

Your teeth graze over your bottom lip.

"Of course I will. Let me grab some lotion, okay?" You assure him with a small smile, leaning in to plant a quick, reassuring kiss against his forehead. Stepping out of his grasp, you make your way to your ensuite bathroom, where you retrieve a bottle of lotion from the counter beside the sink.

Upon your return to the bedroom, you find Jack laying on his stomach, his pants discarded, leaving him clad in only his boxer shorts. Quietly, you cross over to his side of the bed, and with a gentle grace, you mount his legs, straddling him intimately with your own legs positioned on either side.

Gazing down at him, your fingers delicately traverse the landscape of overwhelming redness that adorns his back. A sympathetic ache washes over you as you thought of the pain he must be enduring.

Reaching for the lotion bottle at your side, you squeeze a generous amount into the palm of your hand. Rubbing your hands together, you diligently work the lotion into a softened lather before gingerly pressing your palms onto his back. With a mindful touch, you apply moderate pressure, your nimble fingers skillfully working to unravel the knots of tension that had taken up residence along the contours of his back.

"Are you okay? I don't wanna hurt you," you murmur, with genuine concern. In response, a soft groan escapes his lips, and his hand reaches out to give your thigh a reassuring squeeze, conveying both his appreciation and trust in your touch.

A half an hour unfolds as you devotedly work your skilled hands across his back, your focus honed on the stubborn kinks in his shoulders. Your touch becomes more assertive, a firm pressure applied to those strained areas, eliciting soft grunts of relief from Jack.

It's not until you reach for more lotion that you notice the steady rise and fall of his chest, a sign that he had drifted off to sleep.

With a slowed motion, you lean forward, your lips softly gracing the middle of his shoulder blades with a soft kiss. A sweet, wordless expression of your affection.

[my-darling-boy]

Hey bb, I am in need of costume help! I am searching for some long bloomers for a photoshoot. I'm gonna make my guy friend wear armor, bloomers and put on lipstick. It's gonna be great, I just don't know what the correct name of long bloomers would be? Or where to find them for men. He's a long boy (for context).

Hi! Sounds like a fun shoot! Undergarment terms are confusing but you’ve a few options to look up! (Note: I’m not sure if you’re looking for something medieval as per the armour or something around the time of bloomers so I’ll just yap and hopefully something helps)

“Bloomers” is a specifically Victorian-era coined word and garment but probably refers to the thing you have in mind, and probably the only thing Etsy or google will recognise to show you results. It’s complicated, but bloomers weren’t necessarily ladies “underpants” in the way we’d understand them. They were initially more akin to long, ballooned trousers and gathered at the ankle, meant to be visible below a dress or otherwise. As time went on, it started to refer to any ballooned trouser-like women’s garment that ended somewhere between the knee and ankle. Because of this, some drawers (rightmost photo) were referred to as bloomers no matter if plain or frilly/embroidered simply because they were puffy even if they weren’t worn exposed. The important difference is that Bloomers in the trouser sense were a fashion response in the fight for women’s rights, the term Bloomer came from their eventual association with the Victorian social advocate Amelia Bloomer.

They were different from pantaloons. Pantaloons were an early 19th c. men’s item, longer, and figure hugging ending at about the ankle and they replaced 18th c. breeches which fastened just below the knee (Left pic: breeches, right pic: pantaloons). Funnily enough, when searching images of “pantaloons” you’ll get a variety of women’s Victorian and Edwardian drawers, but pantaloons are the men’s garment, I’m not sure why it’s also used to refer to women’s underpants now.

Pantalettes were a type of women’s undergarment meant to be slightly seen and are generally slimmer and less balloony than bloomers (which didn’t technically exist yet) and were lightly frilled/embroidered and usually reached about the mid calf or ankle. Though their origins are quite old, they were most prevalent in the early-mid 19th century, stayed a bit longer for children’s fashion, then kinda fell out of fashion, not that any trouser-like underpants were popular and widely accepted with western women’s fashion to begin with. (Pantalettes below)

Then you have the word “drawers” which sort of refers to any period underpants in general. For women, drawers used to be just a fairly plain linen or cotton pair of short trousers starting somewhere in the 14th-15th c. but were also not widely adopted outside of specific regions, modesty occasions, or sport until the late 19th century, until they eventually became a staple for Edwardian women’s undergarments and became quite frilly in French designs. The term now loosely encompasses any women’s long underpants, so both bloomers and pantalettes and a variety of other underpants are all “drawers”. A lot of women’s drawers were also split-crotch, you didn’t tend to see them completely sewn closed as it made it easier to use the toilet.

I know I’ve referenced mainly women’s clothes here but there are some men’s clothing that has a slightly similar look to Victorian drawers. A basic pair of linen or cotton open leg drawers would suffice, you might look at 18th c. Western European underpants that looked very similar to drawstring linen breeches. If you want something more medieval to compliment the armour, I might also suggest Braies which were essentially just lower waisted breeches (Braies below)

Point is, because of the overlap and appearance, you’ll see bloomers that are technically pantalettes, pantalettes labelled as pantaloons, drawers that are bloomers, it’s all a bit confusing, but I hope that narrows down what you might be looking for.

As for where to find any of these for someone very tall, your best bet might be to get your hands on a pattern for Victorian drawers (I’ve seen some off Etsy or EBay) and see if it’s possible to attach the split legs if it has them and allow for some extra length in the legs for height as they may end more at the knees on a tall person rather than the mid calves. Or have a look about medieval reproduction sites for the Braies style. The good news is that because drawers are basically just plain pants made from white fabric, they’re quite a simple thing to cobble together and have it still be clear it’s old drawers.

Best of luck to your photoshoot!

[rusalka52]

Tell me I’m pretty

↝completed

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Summary: It’s time for your detention with Sirius! What sort of tomfoolery will he get up to now?!

cw: Sirius is a bit of a fiend, mention of smoking, blood-purist attitudes

3.5k words

A/N: sorry for the late update I got sick during the week and was simultaneously fighting and losing in the trenches of the “idgaf about my situationship” war but we pulled through!! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and don't forget to like reblog etc etc and let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list !!!!

The rest of your week went by fairly quickly, filled with your regular routine along with stress because of the upcoming exams and your daily, demanding classes.

After completing your assigned homework, your entire Tuesday afternoon was spent cleaning the mess in the bathroom with Barty, since he was one of the perpetrators alongside you. The stains on the mirror were so set in that not even magic could remove them so you had to resort to regular muggle cleaning products.

Wednesday was spent watching the Ravenclaw quidditch team practice for their upcoming tournament while Barty was gossiping with you about each player on the team. Who had a crush on who, who shagged who’s sister and so on. After the team finished you and Barty started gathering your things and were about to head to the library along with one of Barty’s friends when the Gryffindor team took to the field. You were halfway through the pitch on your way out when your eyes accidentally landed on Sirius’ toned arms as he was passing the quaffle to James. You might have stared a bit too long at the veins running along his arm and the way his muscles flexed when he caught the ball because you ended up walking right into Barty. You quickly regained your composure and prayed to Merlin that a blush wasn’t tinting your cheeks.

“He’s not even in the team, why is he on the field?” You complained to your friend.

“Why are you staring at him?” Barty teased. You huff and walk faster towards the castle.

On Thursday you taught Regulus how to roll cigarettes behind the herbology greenhouses.

“Now, Regulus, put the tobacco leaves in the rolling paper. No, no- stop. You have to leave space for the filter!”

“I can’t figure it out. I’ll just get the normal cigarettes, they taste better anyway.” He says sitting up.

“No! That’s not the point!!!” You whine, pulling him back down.

Your last class of the day on Friday -Charms, double period no less- was cancelled thankfully because Flitwick had a cold or something you didn’t really pay attention to the announcement. You sat under the enormous oak tree in the courtyard with the Slytherin girls from your year, discussing the upcoming Hogsmeade trip the next day.

“Ugh, I still haven’t figured out what I’m going to wear tomorrow!” You groan, thinking about the clothes you packed from home.

“Umm, you’re not going, remember?” A catty brunette girl from your year, who’s name you can never seem to recall, chimes in.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You spit back annoyed, she was always causing trouble with anyone and everyone for no reason. She was itching for a fight.

“Did you forget what you have tomorrow?” She giggles, side-eyeing her friends.

“Wha- Ohh… yeah… I remember.” You groan, hiding your face in your arms. The detention with Sirius had completely slipped your mind. It felt like it was assigned ages ago!

“Hmph, I really don’t understand why you’re complaining. I’d give anything to be locked in a room with the Sirius Black for an hour.” She snickers. “He might be a blood traitor but at least he’s a sexy one!”

You look at her with a disgusted expression as the conversation goes back to Hogsmeade.

~

At 1:30pm on Saturday you arrive at the classroom you were told to wait at for McGonagall and push open the wooden door. As you enter Sirius is already sat at one of the desks near the back and he makes eye contact with you, a smirk rising to his lips.

“Hello, love.” He says in a sing-song voice.

“Hi, Black.” You respond monotonously.

“Aww, why are we back to last name basis, what happened to pretty-boy?”

You grimace as the concert night escapade comes to memory. Choosing to ignore the question you sit down at a desk away from him and near the blackboard in the front of the classroom.

Sirius was about to protest and move closer to you but before he could do that McGonagall opens the door and enters the room holding in her hands a stack of papers.

“Sit down both of you and stay quiet.” She says. “I have a few more assignments left to correct and then we will continue to your detention.” She sits down at the desk in the front of the classroom, dropping the massive stack of papers with a loud thud.

“Excuse me, professor,” you whisper quietly trying to not disturb her, “but what will our detention be?” You have to prepare mentally for whatever task you’ll have to complete. If you have to clean the bedpans in the hospital wing without the use of magic again you might as well fake being sick to get out of it.

“Professor Slughorn is running low on potion ingredients so you will have to pluck some plant leaves and organise them in jars in the potions store room, without magic of course. More than a fair detention considering that you two did not bring your assignments two weeks in a row! Don’t you think?”

“Yes, professor…” You two say in unison.

“Good, now be quiet.” She picks up her quill, dipping it in the red ink and continues correcting. You begin zoning out thinking about all the assignments you have to get done, the exams you need to study for, what your friends are doing at Hogsmeade right now, are they even thinking of you? Will they bring you the chocolate frog you asked for?

Not even 5 minutes go by when suddenly you feel a crumpled piece of parchment hit the back of your head and fall to the ground. You look back at Sirius -bloody hell with an aim like that he should try out for chaser or beater- and glance at McGonagall making sure that she’s not paying attention to you. She hates it when students pass notes amongst one another and has no hesitation reading them out loud in front of the entire class. You remember one time last yeaf when she caught Dorcas red handed passing a note to Marlene. You can still clearly see Dorcas’ and Marlene’s faces get 5 shades redder as McGonagall read “your bum looks amazing in your skirt, Marls, winky face” aloud for everyone to hear and you shudder.

You drop your pencil next to the note as a distraction and swiftly pick up both of them.

“Hogsmeade, tomorrow, you + me = <3

What do you say?

-pretty-boy S.O.B”

You read Sirius’ neat handwritten note and roll your eyes. It must be a Black trait to have nice handwriting, they definitely took calligraphy classes in their youth you imagine. You decide to humour him seeing as you don’t really have anything more interesting to do and McGonagall was still busy with the grading.

“What do you have to offer me if I decide to go?

P.s. you’re not that pretty”

You scribble back right underneath his question and toss the paper back towards him. The answer to the question was of course going to be no but it’s important to see what he’s offering.

A second goes by when you hear a ‘psst’ behind you. You turn your head and the paper ball hits you right in the face and see him suppressing a giggle. You tut in annoyance but nevertheless you still bend down to pick it up.

“I can offer you my cock my love :)

P.s. that’s not what you said last Friday...”

You groan. He is so unbelievably haughty and arrogant. You are about to write back a response when McGonagall clears her throat and stands up. You quickly shove the paper in your pocket and stand up. She looks at you disapprovingly, shit she probably saw you scribbling something but thankfully decided to ignore it. Your dignity would not be able to take it if anyone else saw the vile things Black was writing to you.

“Come, follow me.” She announces as she exits the classroom.

You and Sirius follow behind her as she makes her way down to the dungeons towards the potions store room. As you’re walking you suddenly feel Sirius nudge your shoulder but you choose to ignore him.

“How about I show you my… um… love now that we’re going to be left alone.” He whispers in your ear making the hair on your body stand up. He’s obviously referencing the note he sent you a few minutes ago and you subconsciously tighten your first around the parchment paper still in your pocket. You snap your head towards him.

“Shut up!” You walk faster almost right next to McGonagall. You try to ignore the irritable expression that crosses Sirius’ face at your rejection.

~

You arrive in front of the potions store room and she turns back to look at you two.

“You will need to dittany leaves since professor Slughorn is running low on his supply, be careful to not get burned. Afterwards, sort them in jars and put them in the correct spot.” She instructs while outstretching her hand. “Give me your wands, you will need to do this task without magic. You can have your wands back after you are done.” You comply with her request, albeit a bit hesitant. You always feel uneasy going anywhere without your wand. How do muggles do it!?

The door to the potions store room closes behind you and you’re left alone with Sirius. You approach the desk in the middle of the room and sit on the stool on the left while Sirius sits next to you.

You attempt to break the ice and ignore the tension that arose between you two a few moments ago after you ignored his advances in the hallway. He’s just trying to make you feel guilty for not wanting him, you think to yourself.

“I mean, I guess it beats polishing trophies.” You say, making casual small talk. You can’t handle the awkward tension in the air especially considering the massive pile of dittany leaves you have to pluck. “It is just flowers at the end of the day.”

“They’re not just flowers. If you use them in a mixture with silver it helps cure werewolf bites, you know. It prevents the victim from bleeding to death, but it doesn’t cure them of lycanthropy of course… Plus they sometimes release flammable vapours, so be careful” He replies, still sulking. His mood changes were making you dizzy. One moment he’s cheery and flirty and in an instant, as if a switch flipped inside of him, he starts moping around at the smallest hint of criticism.

“You seem to know a lot about lycanthropy.” You muse, attempting to lighten the mood which clearly didn’t work as he just lets out a “Hm” as a response. Whatever, if he doesn’t want to talk you’re not going to bend over backwards to get him to make conversation.

~

Around 15 minutes pass of you quietly picking the leaves off the stem and dropping them in the correct jars in total silence, something that was rare for Sirius Black. You hear him huffing and puffing next to you, pushing his long raven curls away from his face and trying to, unsuccessfully, tuck them behind his ears. You are not about to offer him your pink hair tie around your wrist after he completely iced you out moments ago. If he wants it, he can ask for it.

“Can I borrow your hair tie?” He finally relents as if on queue after realising you’re not about to offer yours.

“No.” You respond, not taking your eyes off the plant. “I’ve seen how you treat hair ties. You completely stretch them out and toss them away. I’m not going to give you mine as well. You continue. He snorts in response.

“What’s so funny?” You question, turning to look at him.

“Are we still talking about hair ties or..?” He answers with a smirk on his face.

“Yes!” You slap his arm suppressing a giggle. You’re not going to laugh at his stupid innuendos. “I was not being allegorical, you freak, although I suppose that applies too.” He chuckles.

“Please.” He whines tapping your arm. He is seemingly back to his teasing mood. “I will give it back to you after we’re done, I promise!”

“No.”

“Please.” He’s shaking your arm now. You look at him and he’s giving you his best puppy-dog eyes. There really is some puppy-like quality to him that you can’t quite point out.

“Ugh, fine! Turn around.” You acquiesce.

“Oh, kinky! Why? What are you gonna do?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, his voice dropping an octave.

“So I can tie your hair up!” You roll your eyes at him, grabbing his shoulders and roughly pushing him to turn around in an attempt to hide the smile that you involuntarily broke into.

“Love, if you wanted to touch my hair so badly you could have just asked! I would have gladly let you, no need for all this scheming!” He announces, turning around in his chair, mirth lacing his voice.

“Merlin, Black, how did you figure it out!? That is all I’ve ever wanted, thank you so so so much!” You reply sarcastically, smile evident in your words. His hair really is soft, no wonder he takes so much pride in it. As you pull the ponytail through the loop of the hair tie you catch a whiff of his shampoo, vanilla, and you breathe in. Shit, he really does smell good. You quickly exhale hoping he didn’t notice.

“Although, from the back, your hair is almost identical to Snape’s!” You tease as you finish tying up his hair and tapping his shoulder. He spins around, mouth hanging open in shock and playful offence.

“How could you say that!” He gasps dramatically.

“It’s true! I’ve even gotten you two mixed up more times than I can count.” Your smile broadens as you go back to plucking leaves off the plant. Only a couple more branches left.

“Oh, now I know you’re lying! My bum is way sexier than Snivellus’ and you know it!”

“Hm, I suppose it is.” You giggle.

“Huh? What did you say? Can you repeat that one more time, just a bit louder, I didn’t quite hear you?”

You’re about to tell him to piss off when a sudden heat erupts from the plant, scorching your index and middle finger.

“Ow!” You exclaim in pain looking down at your burned fingers. It was the very last leaf on the branch that burned you as well! Just your luck.

Sirius quickly looks over at you, eyebrows raised in concern.

“Fuck, are you okay? Just- wait a second.” He says standing up and walking over to his bag. He swiftly returns to the desk with a roll of bandages and kneels in front of you, pushing your knees slightly apart to make room for himself.

“Give me your hand.” You comply and he gently takes your hand in his, bandaging up the burn. It didn’t even hurt that much anymore; you were just interested to see this side of Sirius. This was completely different from the usual bad boy facade he put on. He was caring, almost nurturing as he bandaged each finger tenderly, careful to not hurt you.

“Does it still hurt?” He looks up at you through his eyelashes, your hands still in his. You nod in response.

He then raises your injured hand up towards his face kissing each finger, not breaking eye contact with you. His eyes seem to glaze over as he continues to kiss up your hand and your breathing quickens. You’re almost panting as you look at him placing delicate kisses to your wrist. You suddenly pull your arm away from him, unable to contain your urges anymore. You cup his face in your hands and pull him roughly against your lips. He takes a second to register what’s happening and he reciprocates the kiss immediately, with as much fervor and intensity as you. He stands up from his kneeling position between your legs, pulling you up with him and pushing you back slightly against the stacked potion shelves. You can hear the jars and vials filled with various potion-making ingredients clatter above you as he pulls away for air, finally trapping you against the shelves with his arms. Your hands reach up and grip his ponytail, pulling him closer towards you.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting all week to taste you again.” He whispers against your lips. “You’re even better than I remember, I’m so glad I’m sober this time.” His lips crash into yours once more and he deepens the kiss. He nips at your bottom lip making you gasp, allowing his tongue to freely explore your mouth.

He’s first to pull away for much needed air after the kiss and as you're about to lean into him again when he pulls back even further. You whine in response, he's being so unfair!

“If you want me to call you pretty again, it’s not happening.” You huff, realising what he wanted to hear you say. “You're not as pretty as all those girls make you out to be and I stand by that .”

“Really?” He leans in once more to tease you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His tongue darts out to flicker at your ear before he nips at it with his sharp teeth, making you shudder.

“No.” You whisper with a smirk on your face as you slip underneath his arms that were holding in place against the shelves, returning back to your seat. You truly did not want to pull away, relishing in the attention he was giving you, but you would rather avoid having McGonagall find you with Sirius’ tongue down your throat and your work unfinished. Godric knows how many house points she would deduct and the consequences you’d have to suffer after that.

“Wha-?”

“Come on now we still have work to do.” You interrupt his protest as he looks back at you, lips parted and swollen, his appearance not much dissimilar to your own. “If you're a good boy and we finish on time I might even reward you!”

“Yes, ma’am!” He exclaims returning to his seat excitedly immediately and picking up the jars of dittany again.

You continue with the few branches you have left, working silently and ignoring the longing, almost hungry, glances he shoots your way. As you’re finishing up McGonagall opens the door, signifying the end of your detention, right on time.

“Very well, here are your wands, you are free to go.” She says after thoroughly inspecting your work. You exit the store room and McGonagall disappears into the hall, headed towards her office no doubt. Sirius lingers next to you.

“Soooo… about that reward you promised…”

“I said I might reward you, I didn’t promise anything.” You respond to him slyly.

“But I was a good boy! And we finished on time!” He whines.

“I’ll think about your reward next Saturday on our date to Hogsmeade, okay?” You say as you walk past him towards the Slytherin common room, brushing against his shoulder.

“I- um, y-yeah okay!” he stutters behind you. You just made the Sirius Black stutter. Unheard of!

He better not make you regret this.

~

You walk through the arching snake statue and into the Slyherin common room with an involuntary smile on your face. This is the first time you return from detention in a cheery mood so it’s not difficult for someone to deduce that something positive happened. You greet Regulus who was splayed out on the couch with a fiction book resting in his lap.

“You smell like him.” Regulus comments not even bothering to lift his head from his book as you walk past him towards your dorm. You stop dead in your tracks behind the head of the dark brown leather couch and your smile drops.

“Well duh, we just had detention together.” You try to play it off. “Anyway, what's the book you're reading about?”

“Was your detention to snog him for an hour?” He questions, completely disregarding your poor attempt of changing the subject.

“I did not snog your brother, Reg, drop it, we just had to pick dittany leaves.” You roll your eyes.

“And did the leaves make you smile so broadly or..?” You smack the back of his head and run up to your dorm before he can argue. You’ll have to tell him about your date with Sirius one of these days or risk having him find out through the numerous Hogwarts gossips.

~

“WAKE UP TWATS, WE’RE GOING ON A DATE NEXT SATURDAY!” Sirius exclaims as he bursts through the doors of his dorm room, scaring the rest of the boys.

“Are you jealous, Prongs?” he winks, teasing his friend.

Before he can even think about continuing his jibes he is interrupted by a pillow hitting him square in the face, courtesy of James.

tags: @gastroentred @beekeepingageissome @is-it-better-to-speak-or-todie @lolalleins

Likes and reblogs help a lot! If anyone wants to be added to tag list for the fourth part just let me know!!

Requests: open :D