#every word can have two meanings even Joy can be changed in a flash

[optimisticcheesecakecupcake]

[corroded-hellfire]

Reader is Eddie’s first relationship & they have an argument. He thinks they’re gonna break up, but she introduces him to the joys of makeup sex. You. Are. Welcome.

xoxoxoxo, @munson-blurbs 💚

Thank. You. Anything for you, my darlin’ 💜

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f receiving

Words: 2.5k

“Eddie, I swear to God, you need to stop being so dramatic about this! I love your theatrics but now you’re just making shit up in your head!”

“In my head? In my head? Seeing the two of you whispering together in the library was not in my head.”

“For Christ’s sake!” you shout, your hands coming up to rake through your hair. “We had to whisper; it was a fucking library!”

“I don’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie says, hands coming to rest on his hips as his jaw clenches. Your groan reverberates within the trailer walls.

“I can’t help the way he looks at me! If he’s even looking at me in some way at all. But I’m not looking at him in any way. We’re partners on a project, that’s it!”

“I don’t want you to be his partner anymore,” Eddie says, shrugging as if this is a reasonable request.

“Eddie, I didn’t pick him as my partner. O’Donnell assigned them. And we’re almost done with our project! I’m not asking to change now.”

“Even if it makes your boyfriend uncomfortable?” Eddie hisses. 

“What, so I’m supposed to get a bad grade just because you’re jealous? Fuck that. I plan on passing O’Donell’s class the first time.” It’s a low blow and you know it. But his jealousy is driving you up the wall and you can’t help but snap. 

“Maybe wear a goddamn shirt that you don’t have to pull up every thirty seconds then. You’re giving everyone at school a fucking show every day.”

“So, I just want everyone in the whole damn school to sleep with me, huh? Is that it?”

“That’s not what I fucking said,” Eddie spits out. 

“Then what are you saying? By saying that I’m cozying up to Kevin? By saying I’m flashing my tits to everyone at school?”

Eddie smacks his hand against the kitchen counter and turns his back to you. 

“Eddie,” you say with a sigh, shaking your head. “I need a break. I need a fucking break.” You grab your boyfriend’s pack of cigarettes from the counter and head towards the front door so you can grab a smoke.

“So, that’s it, huh?” 

The wobble in Eddie’s voice has you stopping in your tracks. When you turn to face him, you see him watching you with a set jaw, angry facade spoiled by the unshed tears building up in his eyes.

“What?” you ask.

“Need a break?” Eddie scoffs and shakes his head. “Fine. Go ahead.” 

“Eddie,” you say with a frown. “I’m going for a smoke break. What’s the big deal? I forgot my own pack, so I grabbed yours. You don’t want me to use ‘em? Fine.” You toss the pack back on the counter and rest your hands on your hips.

“Wait,” Eddie says. His face changes from angry to open and vulnerable. “Y-You’re not…breaking up with me?” The tear that slides down his face has your heart cracking in your chest.

“Baby, what?” you ask, taking a few steps closer to him. “Why would you think I’m breaking up with you?”

“You, um.” Eddie pauses and sniffs. Quickly, he wipes at his eyes. “You said you needed a break.”

“From the fight,” you tell him. “Not from you, Eddie. Sweetheart, I love you. I’m not breaking up with you.”

Eddie nods his head, but you can tell he’s still scared. “Hey…” You step forward and cup his face in your hands. “Eddie, it’s just a fight. They happen, it’s normal. That doesn’t mean we break up over it.”

“I’ve never, um…never,” Eddie trails off before clearing his throat. “This is new to me. My first relationship.”

“I know.” You slip your arms around his lithe waist and rest your head on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me going anywhere though, baby. S’just a fight.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around you as well.

“It’s okay, you just misunderstood me,” you say.

“No, I-I meant for what I said before. About what you wear and being partners with Kevin. I was being an asshole.” 

“I should’ve been more considerate of your feelings,” you say, tilting your head to press a kiss to his neck.

“No, I should’ve done that with you.”

“We can both be in the wrong,” you say. 

“I love you,” Eddie says. The words still make you smile, no matter how many times you’ve heard them before.

“I love you, too. And now…” You pick your head up and give your boyfriend a salacious smirk. “I get to introduce you to another part of relationships.”

“What’s that?” Eddie asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

You slide your hands down to his and tug him as you walk backwards towards his room.

“Make up sex.”

“Oh?” Eddie’s voice takes on a higher pitch as both of his eyebrows jettison into his hair. “Is this different than other sex?”

“Well, when we’re done, you can tell me.” 

You pull your hands out from his, bringing them to the hem of your shirt and whipping it off over your head. Eddie groans and lunges at you, grabbing your hips and tossing you over his shoulder. The only sound is your ferocious giggling as you’re carried over and plopped down on the bed. Instantly, you’re reaching up and pulling Eddie’s mouth down onto yours. He moans as he sinks into the kiss, lowering his body onto yours, pressing you between him and the mattress. Your fingers wind their way into your boyfriend’s curls, scratching at his scalp and gently tugging at the roots. This spurs Eddie on, rolling his hips against yours, the denim of his jeans rubbing the denim of yours. 

“Need you,” Eddie says, voice low and gruff, as he separates his mouth from yours. Fingers digging into your sides, Eddie presses hot kisses against your jaw. The sensation of his heavy body on top of yours and his dizzying kisses down your neck has you arching your back. It makes your bra-clad breasts brush against Eddie’s shirt. 

“Take this off,” you pant, tugging at the worn material of his Dio tee. 

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie whispers against your skin. He pushes himself up, a knee bracketing each side of your thighs. No matter how many times you’ve seen him strip his shirt off, it still gives you butterflies and makes you all giggly. 

“You’re so sexy,” you say as you slide your hands up his bare chest. The smirk that he gazes down at you with makes him even sexier.

Eddie grabs one of your hands and presses a kiss to your palm. “Not as sexy as you, my love.” Reluctantly letting go of you, he slides down your body and pops the buttons on your jeans. The pace at which he drags them down your legs is agonizing. Assisting him by kicking them off, Eddie quickly yanks your panties off and tosses them to fall somewhere behind him. 

“Jesus, I need to taste you, baby.” Eddie pushes your legs apart as he slowly lowers himself down to rest on his elbows. 

“Please do,” you whine, dropping your head back on the pillow. 

Licking his lips and eyes gleaming like he’s looking at a pile of presents on Christmas morning, Eddie leans in and licks a stripe up your folds. A whimper is punched from your chest as Eddie nudges your clit with his nose. 

“Eddie, yes.”

The way you say his name has his painfully hard cock twitching in his pants. Desperate for some friction, Eddie ruts his hips against the mattress as he dives in for another taste of your drenched pussy.

“So fucking wet,” Eddie mumbles. “All for me.”

“All f’you,” you echo, eyes drifting closed. “You make me soaked, Eds.”

“Mm,” Eddie hums against you, sending the vibrations up your core. “Taste so sweet, baby. How’s such a pretty pussy also taste so damn good?”

Eddie knows talking about your pussy only turns you on even further, and he’s determined to get you as wet as he can. The sound of your whimpering has him smirking against your folds. He pushes your legs open even further so he can press his face deeper into your heat. His tongue makes its way from your entrance up to your clit. 

“Fuck,” you whine. 

Encouraged by the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips, Eddie sucks your sensitive nub into his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you fisting his cream colored sheets between your delicate fingers. Your thighs tense up beneath his hands and Eddie knows what you’re going to say before you even open your mouth. 

“M’close.”

Humming encouragingly around your clit, your boyfriend slips one hand down between your legs and slides two fingers inside of you. It’s exactly what you need—and he knows this. Back arching off the bed, your thighs close around Eddie’s head as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes practically roll into the back of your skull as Eddie pumps his fingers in time with his sucking. 

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room and Eddie pulls his mouth from you as your back falls back down to the sheets. You tilt your head down to watch Eddie push himself up, licking over his lips that are covered in your slick. His chin is soaked as well, and the sight already has the area between your legs throbbing again. 

“How was that, baby?” Eddie asks as he crawls back up your body. 

“Holy shit,” you pant out between breaths. Your mind searches for the words to express how amazing he just made you feel, but you come up empty. A self-satisfied smirk grows on Eddie’s face at your inability to speak.

“Mm, my pretty girl,” Eddie hums, running his nose up to the sensitive spot behind your ear. “Love hearing all those noises you make.”

“Make me feel so good, Eds,” you moan. “Need you in me.”

Eddie places a trail of kisses down your neck as he slips his hand beneath you to pop open your bra. His deft fingers pick the clasp and you’re quick to fling the offending material off the side of the bed. 

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Eddie growls against your skin. Your hands bump into his as both of you reach down to unbuckle his belt. He huffs a laugh as he rests his forehead against yours, letting you take care of the belt while he pops the button of his jeans. As eager as you are to have him inside of you, Eddie’s quick to shuck off the pants and align his hips with yours. 

Agonizingly slowly, he pushes inside of you, the stretch burning a fire low in your belly. Eddie braces a forearm on either side of your head and dives in to envelop your mouth with his own. The two of you moan and whimper into one another’s mouths as Eddie bottoms out. When he pulls his hips back and slams into you again, your hands come up to grip at his shoulders. Your fingers dig so hard into his pale skin that you’re sure he’s going to have ten small bruises there tomorrow. 

“God, I’ll never get over how tight you are,” Eddie mumbles against your mouth. He’s starting to understand what you meant about makeup sex. The adrenaline is still pumping through his body from being angry. The love he feels for you is overwhelming, glad the two of you have made up. But there’s still that touch of possessiveness from his earlier jealousy that has him pounding into you hard enough that you’ll remember who you belong to. 

“Oh! Fuck! Right there, Eddie.”

The way you say his name is music to his ears and he wants to make you scream it over and over again. He picks up the pace of his hips, hitting that special spot inside of you with each thrust. 

“Come on, baby,” Eddie taunts. “I want the whole damn trailer park to know who’s making you feel this good.”

“You, Eddie. Fuck, you.”

“That’s right,” he groans. 

“Baby,” you whine, “wanna be on top. Wanna ride you.”

“Whatever you want, angel.”

Eddie pulls out of you and flops down next to you on his back. Neither of you wanting to be separated for too long, you hurry to climb on top of him and lower yourself onto his cock. When you’re fully seated on him, you start to rock your hips back and forth. The new angle lets you feel him in a new way and the friction of the coarse curls at his base against your clit makes you dizzy with pleasure. 

Watching you ride him, your hips moving back and forth, your tits bouncing with the motion, has Eddie biting his lip to keep his impending release back. He doesn’t want this to end yet; but you feel so damn good. 

“Shit, baby, please tell me you’re close,” Eddie pleads.

“Uh huh,” you hum, nodding your head. “S-So close.”

“Fuck,” he grumbles.

You rest your hands on Eddie’s chest as you move your hips against his. With each rock you feel yourself coming closer to tipping over the edge. Little whines and whimpers start to spill from your mouth, and it has Eddie gripping your hips as if his hands were a vice. 

“E-Eddie… Gonna cum.”

“Let go for me, baby girl. Cream my cock,” Eddie goads through clenched teeth. His hands begin to help move your hips and the added pressure of your clit dragging against his body is all you need. 

“Shit,” you cry, throwing your head back as your second orgasm of the night strikes. Your walls clench around Eddie, which is all it takes to have him spilling inside of you.

“Jesus Christ, yes,” he groans, hips bucking wildly up into you. Stars dance in his vision as he empties himself in your pussy. Your bodies rock together, riding out your highs.

“Holy fuck,” you sigh out, flopping forward onto Eddie’s chest. Both of your sweat melds together as he wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Eddie rasps, trying to catch his breath.

You tilt your head so you’re looking up at your boyfriend. He meets your eyes and it’s impossible for you not to give him a goofy grin. It’s just the effect Eddie has on you.

“So, what do you think of makeup sex?” you ask.

Eddie sighs and rubs a hand up and down your back. “I’m torn. I hate fighting with you…but shit that was hot.” 

Giggles bubble out of you, and you bury your face into his sticky chest. 

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you, too.” He tilts your chin up so he can press a soft kiss against your lips.

“I promise the next time I piss you off—because it’s impossible that there won’t be a next time—I’ll make sure the sex is worth it.”

“You say that like all sex with you isn’t worth it,” Eddie says with a scoff.

“Mm, fine,” you say, pushing yourself up off his chest. “Guess I’ll just have to buy some lingerie or something then.”

Eddie’s eyes widen and it takes all your strength to hold in your laughter.

“Okay, now baby, I’m not saying I want you to piss me off… Hey! What’d you bite me for?”

[eustasskidagenda]

hello im so excited that your ask box is open and youre taking requests! i dont request things often, so this might be a but of a weird concept, and i apologize if its too detailed. however the idea literally wont leave me alone. orz;;

maybe eustass kid has a crush on a somewhat reserved reader whose slow to open up and he hasnt quite realized thats what hes feeling until they stop on an island and meet readers childhood friend. they show a whole new side of themself with said friend by laughing openly, making stupid jokes, being much more physically affectionate. basically reader acts close with an old friend and kid gets jealous about it.

i dont mind if you do a oneshot, drabble, or headcanon, im just curious about your thoughts on this :3 thank you so much and i hope you have a great day!

Hello dear anon! Sure, I'm always happy to write for my pookie. It was fun to write, and it makes me smile a bit because Kid is such a mess, I love this angry tulip. Hope it will match your expectations. ☆

☆Kid with a s/o slow to open up

CW : g/n reader, a bit of cursing but fluff overall

WC : 700

Kid has always been loud. Whenever he's angry, he needs to shoot at someone. What can he say? His heart is filled with emotions, boiling and exploding like a thousand sparks. That's why you're a mystery. Always calm. Not letting others know what's on your mind. What makes you so quiet? He can't tell. 

Just like the moon and the sun, you are polar opposites. And yet, as the sun always chases the moon, he's always looking after you. And he's everything, but not discreet. Asking loudly for almost all of his crew what they think about you and why you are so reserved. 

Sure, he's used to introverted folks. Killer is one of them. But here's the difference: he can second-guess every word, thought, and breath of his best friend. He could probably achieve all of his sentences. And even through the mask, Kid could also guess the exact expression on Killer's face. 

Killer, who is likely aware that Kid has a small crush on you.

Kid is genuinely frustrated. Loudly frustrated, obviously. He needs to feel in control of everything and hates when he doesn’t have a full-understanding. Usually, he fails to notice reserved people because he's taking all the attention. But there's something about you: your slight smiles, the flash in your eyes, the way you're always listening to others but never talk about yourself. He can't tell why, but it keeps his mind alert. 

Perhaps you pose a bit of a challenge. Kid would never give two flying fucks about you if you were easy to see through. He's always looking after you because you're still a mystery. Sure, at the beginning, it was just to try to figure out who you really are. But now, it turned into something bigger. He hasn't noticed it yet, that’s all. Kid sucks with feelings. Feelings are actually something he hates because they make him feel weak. It puts his loved one in danger. Showing your weaknesses to enemies is a foolish move, Kid knows that perfectly.

However, everything is about to change. He decided to stop on that island for the day. For the first time, you asked to avoid robbery or harming anyone around. 

"Ugh, we're pirates, y/n" Kid doesn't want to look like a nice guy. He's a tough, rude pirate. He has a reputation to uphold. For him, the only good way to open a path is by violent means. Kindness? For what? If he's still alive today, it's because he toughened up and decided to never show mercy to anyone. 

"Fine, fine, I won't kill those people." Heavy sighs. But he wants to understand. He needs to understand. And finally, he's about to understand. 

Because suddenly, you're smiling heartily and running towards those scumbag strangers. What. The. Fuck. It's like seeing the sun after an eternity of blizzards and grey clouds. You're a bright light, a true sunshine. A burst of joy. You're joking, laughing, talking, and talking a lot. You never said more than two sentences in front of him, and now you're chatting endlessly with those strangers and hugging all of them. 

He's pissed off. Are those random people with terrible sense of style and ugly make-up better than him? The great Eustass "Captain" Kid? No way. 

"Guys, here's my captain, Kid. Kid, here are my childhood best friends."

Kid's face is a mess of angry scowls and boiling with frustration when they say hello. Why aren't you smiling as warmly when you're with him? Why is his heart pounding so hard, almost painfully in his chest? And damn, is it the cold or are his cheeks completely red? 

Poor Kid is both flushed and flustered. His first reflex is always exploding when he feels something. "Do you have a problem with me?" Barking through gritted teeth. 

He's ruining the happy-shitty mood and he doesn't care. 

So now, try to explain that you don't have a problem with him. Good luck, he's very stubborn. But once he's more or less calmed (because he's still pissed off), he still can't understand why his heart is racing at the sight of your soft, warm smile.

He wants to see that side of you more often. He wants to be part of those privileged people allowed to know the real you.

Yes, maybe he has a crush on you.

[jay-ce01]

"Love Beyond the Lines"

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Warnings : none, mostly fluff

Words : 1288

Y/N had been Wanda Maximoff’s best friend for years. From the first time they met, there was an unspoken connection that grew into an unbreakable bond. They had shared countless memories, fought side by side in the heat of battle, and found solace in each other’s presence during quiet moments.

Y/N had always admired Wanda, not just for her incredible powers, but for her unwavering loyalty and kind heart. Over time, admiration blossomed into love, a deep and consuming affection that Y/N kept hidden. She couldn't risk their friendship by revealing her true feelings, especially when Wanda’s heart seemed to belong to someone else.

Vision was a remarkable being, both human and not, and Y/N saw how he and Wanda complemented each other. Their connection was palpable, and Y/N often found herself torn between supporting her friend's happiness and grappling with her own unrequited love. She watched from the sidelines, her heart aching with every shared smile and tender glance between Wanda and Vision.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting mission, Wanda and Y/N found themselves alone in the quiet of the common room. The rest of the Avengers had retired for the night, leaving the two friends in a rare moment of solitude.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Wanda asked, noticing the faraway look in her friend's eyes. "You seemed distracted today."

Y/N forced a smile, trying to mask her inner turmoil. "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long day.”

Wanda nodded, but she wasn't convinced. She knew Y/N better than anyone, and she could sense that something was amiss. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

Y/N hesitated, her heart pounding. She wanted to confide in Wanda, to pour out her feelings and confess the love she had kept bottled up for so long. But the thought of losing her friend's trust, of disrupting the harmony they had built, was too great a risk.

"I'm fine, really," Y/N lied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just a lot on my mind."

Wanda reached out and took Y/N's hand, her touch warm and reassuring. "You don't have to carry it alone, whatever it is."

The sincerity in Wanda's eyes almost broke Y/N’s resolve. She wanted so badly to tell Wanda everything, but the image of Vision's face flashed in her mind, and she pulled back, the moment slipping away.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N continued to wrestle with her feelings. She watched as Wanda and Vision's relationship deepened, each interaction a reminder of what she could never have. The pain of unspoken love weighed heavily on her, but she kept her feelings hidden, choosing friendship over the risk of rejection.

Then, one night, everything changed. Y/N and Wanda were sitting on the balcony of the Avengers' headquarters, the city lights twinkling below. Wanda seemed unusually quiet, lost in thought.

"Wanda, is something wrong?" Y/N asked, concern etching her features.

Wanda sighed, her eyes distant. "I've been thinking a lot lately. About us, about Vision, about... everything."

Y/N's heart raced, fear and hope mingling in her chest. "What do you mean?"

Wanda turned to face her, her eyes searching Y/N's. "I've been trying to figure out what I really want, what makes me happy. And I realized that I've been ignoring something important."

Y/N held her breath, afraid to hope. "What's that?"

Wanda took a deep breath, her voice steady but soft. "You. I care about Vision, but it's different with you. You're the one who understands me, who has always been there for me. And I think... I think I've been in love with you for a long time."

Y/N's eyes widened, tears welling up as relief and joy washed over her. "Wanda, I've loved you for years. I just didn't think I could have you because of Vision."

Wanda reached out, gently cupping Y/N's face in her hands. "You don't have to think that anymore. It's you I want, Y/N. It's always been you."

In that moment, the barriers that had kept them apart crumbled, leaving only the truth of their feelings. As they leaned in for their first kiss, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of their love and the promise of a new beginning.

The kiss was everything Y/N had dreamed of and more—gentle yet electrifying, filled with years of unspoken emotions finally finding their voice. As their lips parted, Y/N gazed into Wanda's eyes, her heart overflowing with a mixture of relief, happiness, and love.

Wanda smiled, a sense of peace settling over her. "I've been so afraid to confront my feelings, thinking it might hurt Vision or complicate things. But I can't ignore my heart anymore."

Y/N nodded, understanding the complexity of Wanda's situation. "What about Vision? How will we handle this?"

Wanda sighed, her expression turning serious. "I need to talk to him, to be honest about how I feel. He deserves to know the truth, and I owe him that much. But I know he'll understand. He's always been compassionate and rational."

The next day, Wanda took a deep breath and approached Vision. They sat down together in the quiet confines of the living room, the air heavy with unspoken words.

"Vision, there's something I need to tell you," Wanda began, her voice steady but soft. "I've realized that my heart belongs to someone else. It's Y/N. I love her."

Vision listened intently, his face composed but thoughtful. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "I had sensed something was different, Wanda. Your happiness is what matters most to me. If Y/N is the one who brings you that happiness, then I support you both."

Wanda's eyes filled with gratitude and relief. "Thank you, Vision. Your understanding means the world to me."

With Vision's blessing, Wanda and Y/N allowed themselves to embrace their newfound love without hesitation. They spent every possible moment together, discovering the depths of their connection beyond the bounds of friendship.

One crisp autumn evening, they decided to visit the park where they had first met. The leaves crunched beneath their feet as they walked hand in hand, the colors of fall painting a beautiful backdrop for their blossoming romance.

"I can't believe how far we've come," Y/N said, glancing at Wanda with a smile. "It feels like a dream."

Wanda squeezed her hand, her eyes sparkling with affection. "It's our reality now, Y/N. And I wouldn't want it any other way."

As they reached a secluded bench, Y/N paused, her heart pounding with anticipation. "Wanda, there's something I've been wanting to ask you."

Wanda turned to her, curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto Wanda's. "Will you be mine, officially? Will you be my partner in everything, my love?"

Wanda's smile was radiant, her heart swelling with joy. "Yes, Y/N. A thousand times yes."

They sealed their promise with a kiss, the world around them fading into insignificance. In each other's arms, they found the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that their love was a beacon of hope and resilience.

From that day forward, Wanda and Y/N were inseparable, their love growing stronger with each passing moment. They navigated the complexities of their lives with grace and unwavering support for each other, proving that true love could conquer any obstacle.

And as they stood together on the threshold of their future, they knew that their story was only just beginning, a tale of love and friendship that would endure for all time.

[taegularities]

I MISS CMI SO BADLY CMI 11 IS A PRAYER CHANT I SAY EVERY NIGHT BEFORE I SLEEP

and for that.. cmi jungkook! If there’s a last thing you want to say to oc (lets say when they’re old and grey), what is it?

"there was a time when you took me here, so i could see the real stars. look how they haven't changed," you say, squinting, fighting the weak eyesight to inhale all of the night sky. "but we have, haven't we?"

"i don't think you'll ever change to me."

maybe he's right. since the twilight of your days, he's remained the same, too. as you sit on your bench on a delicate spring day, you think back to the sunsets you've seen with him so far.

at the beach. over wide fields. through the open window.

you've surely woven a masterpiece of a life together; it used to be far worse. but the two of you have indeed not changed. in fact, you don't even need to be here. the stars in his eyes are still the same, too.

a wrinkly hand reaches out to yours, enveloping your pale skin to lift it to his lips. there's a tenderness in his touch you never quite got used to. the words he uttered always carried the same beauty as stardust, drenched in understanding, affection and gentleness.

like now.

"sometimes i still don't understand," he whispers, "how a mind can be so constant. sometimes i see you eating the same favourite snack you loved so long ago, or talking about the stories to me that you wrote when i first fell for you. how are you so constant?"

"how are you?" you nudge his shoulder; he flashes the smirk you know, though weaker now. a thumb rubs the back of your hand – an old habit, too. "how do sad movies still make you cry?"

"i'm not a monster. and i only cry about movies." pause. "and you."

"me, yes?"

"you. out of sadness, out of joy."

he blinks slowly, his movements matching the pace. he gulps and licks his lips, producing saliva, and then looks into your eyes with a stare you know from years and years ago.

god. was it just yesterday that you fell in love? that you waded through heartbreak, found solace in each other, fought the universe and built a home not in your four walls, but in each other, too.

he still paints the same gorgeous lines on the canvas. still floods you with the same colours; you've left the grey world far, far behind.

"i wish we could stay here a bit longer, angel," he mutters, hiding your hand in both of his. "i want to see more sunrises with you. whatever the hell happens, i hope you're still there in a hundred years, okay? might sound very stupid, but. i'll make sure to find you again."

you're tearing up. you tear up all the time these days.

you understand what he meant when he said you were the salty liquid collecting in his waterline. out of sadness, out of joy. out of comfort.

"tae would be calling you cheesy. in fact, i do, too," you whisper, leaning in until your shoulders and knees touch. "then again, i'll be mad if you don't, kook. find me, i mean."

"munchkin, do i ever lie?" he beams, smile reaching wide. shit, he looks so young again. "thank you. for the life you gave, and keep giving me while i'm alive. just… one more thing, okay?"

you already know. so you guess, "you want me to stay with you?"

the nod is gentle. the sparkles in his pupils similar to the ones above. a lifetime echoes in them when he confirms–

"stay."

-

a/n: ah lol, i'm actually crying? this took a while bc i kept sobbing wtf :') not the last thing he says to her, but one of the last for sure <3 i miss them so much too… doing my absolute best with the next part, love <3

[insomanic-fanfication]

🌹🍃The Sound of Silence: Wally West x Mute Reader🍃🌹

[Wally West (Kid flash) Young justice (2010)]

Authors note: This wasn't a request, just something that popped up in my mind, as I go mute. But still feel the need to mask it a lot. So I just want to write a vent about myself, masking, with a character I love.

Many team members were a little wary of you at first; it wasn't anything you did wrong. It was more that they didn't know you or realize your mentor either.

Dick and Tim immediately noticed that you were autistic or at least some type of neurodivergent, mainly due to having Bruce as their father figure, being around Damian, and also Tim being autistic. With all the changes, they ensured you got accommodations to make you feel more comfortable, though they also stayed manageable. Not holding your hand but giving you that safety net.

It was Wally that actually first tried making friends with you, him being the most friendly out of your teammates. Besides Kon, that is, Wally was more enthusiastic. Wanting to make sure you feel welcome. He quickly realized that you couldn't talk; he was confused about why. He found out why through Dick and during the Team being mind linked.

After a while of you two being friends, you and Wally communicated through some basic ASL and some of your stims. He actually nicked his favorite stim of yours, named Happy jazz hands. Another was a vocal stim you picked up while being around him. That being, you mimicking the sound of him using the speed force.

Though, being Autistic, there were downs along with the upsides. Occasionally, having meltdowns or panic attacks due to touching a particular texture or something causes you to change your routine. Wally started regularly helping when you were going through them, helping you calm down. Wither that was helping you get to your room, getting you away from the texture or situation, letting you cuddle into him, or holding his hand.

The rest of your teammates did warm up to you at their own pace, but you stick to Wally like glue. Which did cause Dick to tease his redheaded friend. Especially when you two were holding hands or cuddling on the sofa. You didn't pick up on the social cues of why Dick was teasing him.

At some point, Wally couldn't figure out when his soft spot for you turned into deeper feelings. He didn't know that you definitely felt the same. Though you were hypervigilant, you never tried making a further move, just in case you were reading into things wrong.

During one of your meltdowns, College life, hero work, and every goddamn noise made you feel static and frustrated. Wally carefully approached you, helping you get to your room. This time, however, you asked him to stay with you. Signing: [You visit], which Wally agreed to, sitting on your bed with you.

Resting your head on his chest, though, typical for you both, there was some extra tension for Wally. He loved helping you calm down, even when he was more drained. It means you trust him immensely, but he feels he's tainting that trust by not telling you his true feelings. So he promises to tell you tonight after you've calmed down fully.

'Hey, [name]? Can I tell you something?.' the worried tone made your mouth dry. Does he find me annoying? Did I do something wrong? Sign: [Yes], you knocked twice on an invisible table motion to tell him yes. With a sigh, he continued, 'I don't know when the feelings started,' he paused to word the next ones better, 'but I've grown to really like you, more than just a friend.' The last part, his voice wavering with nervousness.

He finally turned his eyes to you when he felt your weight shift over him. [I. Like. You] was what you signed with a smile, which encouraged a smile to form on the Speedster's. 'I'm so glad,' he laughs with joy when you pull him into a hug.

_______________________________________________

Tumblr decided to be a bitch and post this before I was done, so I quickly edited it to have an ending. I'm mad because I was still working on how I wanted to describe ASL! {Edited on 1 May 2023}

[sasa-writes-fandom-things]

SCARY LOVE - Chapter Two

Pairing: Matt Murdock x f!Reader

Warnings: mention of emotions, fluff at the end

Word count: 3.6k (18 minutes reading time)

a/n: I am back! Ugh I missed writing so much but work got the better of me. But now that I have some days off I couldn’t wait to write this. ♡

Synopsis: You managed to save your savior. And things progress with your neighbor, but a shared secret bears always risks.

Previously on Scary Love:

“Don’t die, please. Oh goddess, please don’t let him die!” You pleaded into the dark sky. With his last breath you send out a desperate prayer to any deity that would listen.

Please don’t let him die. Take me instead.

Hot white light blinded you and for a second, you thought that the thug had got you too. But after your eyes adjusted to the brightness and the light faded, a familiar figure greeted you in the emptiness.

“Sister?”

Disbelieve mixed with uncertainty dwelled inside of you. In front of you stood a tall woman dressed in a white robe with a hood over her hair. You squinted to get a better look at the woman’s face, your sight were still a bit blurry from the flash. Under her pure white hood a streak of turquoise hair peeked out. You remembered fondly how you envied your sister for such a unique color and how much you loved to play with it when you were little. There was no mistake, the woman before you was your sister, your older - dead - sister.

“Welcome, my little butterfly.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes and overcome with joy you stepped towards her. “Nei-nei! What by the Goddesses are you doing here?” Your otherworldly sister opened her arms and hugged you tight. “I heard your wish, little butterfly”, she chuckled heartily.

“But tell me, do you really wish to trade your life for his?” She sighed, her mood completely changed in mere seconds. When you separated, she grabbed your shoulders and looked past you. Behind you laid your savior, bloody and pale. You followed her gaze and forgotten was the joy of seeing your sister again. Guilt sunk deep in your stomach like a heavy stone that would crush you any minute.

“I am, Nei-nei.” You wriggled out of her grasp and stepped towards the man. “He saved me, if there is any chance I can save him now,” you sighed with a resolute smile. “I have to take it, even when it means that my life would end here.” Your sister followed you to the lifeless body. “My beautiful little sister. Always ready to sacrifice herself - even for a mere human.”

You smiled up at her, as you had been kneeling beside the man, ready to accept your destiny. A sad smile appeared on the other woman’s lips and the next thing you saw, was your ceiling in a pitch black bedroom.

Confused you sat up in your bed. You bent your legs and wrapped your arms around them, a hundred thoughts circling in your head, they took you on a roller coaster and clouded your thinking. What had happened? Was the fact that you lived proof that your savior had died? But why else did your sister answer your prayer? She had never been cruel, so she wouldn’t answered you just to show how powerless you were. Nausea mixed with uncertainty spread across your body. Scowlingly you surrendered to the maelstrom of your gloomy thoughts, rocking back and forth in your bed to cope somehow.

Meanwhile in the apartment upstairs, Matt woke up in his bed, confused and startled. The last thing he remembered was shielding you from the gunshot and then everything went black. He noticed that he wasn’t wearing his black mask and suit anymore and the wound was gone too.

“You should be grateful that the Great Healer has such a soft spot for earthlings.”

Matt couldn’t believe his ears. Every sense told him that the black cat next to him just spoke - but that couldn’t be true, could it? His whole body was in flight or fight mode, all tensed up. “No need to be alert. I am not here to hurt you. I am just here to deliver the news. Don’t you humans have a saying for it? Something like not to kill the messenger?” Salem got up, stretched his body and trotted towards the open bedroom door. “Anyway don’t fret it. You got a second chance. Use it wisely, human.” And with that he literally shifted through the ground.

Now alone with his thoughts, Matt tilted his head to the left, listening for you. He led out a breath he was holding, when he sensed you. You were rocking back and forth in your bed. He shifted his thoughts towards you. Were you alright? Did you know what had happened to him? How was he still alive? And why on earth could your cat talk? So many questions, so little answers. But for the moment, Matt was just happy to know you save and sound in your apartment. He could feel your nervousness and discomfort and he would’ve loved to come down and comforted you, but he couldn’t. Not without revealing who he was and what he did. So he had to be content with the way it was now.

The minutes ticked by and the sun drove the dark clouds away, New York woke up to a sunny winter morning.

Still stirred up both, you and Matt, got ready for the day. After all you both had jobs to go to. Dawn was creeping steadily into your apartment, illuminating the room and somewhat your clouded mind. A hot shower and a stop by Mrs. Puddifoot, that’s what you needed after last night.

The incident from last night was constantly playing on loop in your mind and more often than not you caught yourself flinching at the imaginary gunshot going off. The fact that you met your sister almost overshadowed the fact that a man just died because of you. If you dwelled too long on that thought, you wouldn’t stop crying for days. But you pushed those thoughts deep, deep down. Now was not the time to think. In that matter you and your upstairs neighbor had a lot in common.

Wondering where your black companion went off to, you locked your front door and turned towards the staircase. So lost in thoughts, you didn’t see Matt coming down from his floor. He was greeting you with tender words and a warm smile. But you paid him no attention, only when he touched your arm, you snapped out of your trance.

“Sorry Matt. I didn’t see you.”

“That’s usually my line.”

He tried to lighten the mood a bit, but you only could muster a lopsided smile. You felt like on autopilot, feeling everything a bit duller. Matt sensed something was off with you this morning. Your eyes were puffy, your demeanor was stiff and your voice sounded defeated and sad. Of course he knew why you were in such a state but he couldn’t say anything, so he had to pretend and just act like the concerned neighbor.

“Everything okay?” He asked cautiously while you both made your way downstairs. You didn’t want to talk about last night but one part of you wanted - no, needed - someone to confine in and comfort you. Telling you that this wasn’t your fault and there wasn’t anything you could’ve done to save the man in black. You felt utterly numb. As you recalled the unpleasant memories and told Matt what happened you reached the lobby.

“I was saved”, you looked up towards the dirty ceiling, almost if you sent another prayer. “But my savior wasn’t. He was shot after he took down the thug.” Your eyes lost focus, your voice emotionless. Matt listened patiently the whole time. Something in you died along with him last night. He could feel it in the air around you and in your body language. He could almost hear the sound of glass shattering. Two sides fought inside the dark haired vigilante. Torn inside, he threatened to choke on his conflicting feelings.

In fact, he cared for you. True you only knew each other briefly but something about you eased his senses, made him feel calm. Whenever you talked to him he had the feeling of being healed from within. He couldn’t help it but search for your presence. He made sure to leave the house each morning when you did, even if that meant being way too early at his office. He made sure to listen to your heartbeat and steady breathing when he came home from his nightly duty. Feeling a bit creeping but at the same time so relaxed that he fell asleep almost instantly.

You cleared your throat and drew his focus back to you. A sliver of hope glinted in your eyes and an idea formed in your head. “You’re friends with this police officer, right?” You didn’t wait for Matt to answer. “Can you please, please, ask him if … I dunno, the man with the black mask was brought in by ambulance or”, you gulped trying to get rid off the lump in your throat, “Admitted to the morgue?” You held onto his arm, the feeling of something firm beneath your fingertips calmed you. Matt withdraw his arm, catching your wandering hand with his. He squeezed it firmly. “I’ll have a word with Brett.” He smiled the smile that made your heart went a little bit faster. “If you want some company tonight. I’m always up for Thai.” This time you returned his smile with an honest one. “I’d love that.” With that you parted ways and went to your respective offices.

The evening came not fast enough and then too fast for your liking. Foggy wasn’t very happy, when Matt told him, that he wouldn’t join them at Josie’s for some afterwork drinks but as soon as Matt mentioned your name, Foggy couldn’t help, but tease him non stop. Saying things like “of course we can’t compare to a nice meal with your favorite /female/ neighbor.” Matt thought it was silly. The thing between you two wasn’t like that - some part of him, the one he tried to silence, wished it was. But although he knew what kind of effect he had on you, he was sure it was all physical attraction. If you knew what he did at night, when he let the devil out, you would not want him. The things he had to do, apart from the saving, were something he wasn’t proud of. Only God could forgive those sins, so what was one more, when he thought of you under the shower.

The streets in Hell’s Kitchen changed their colors, when the sun sank behind those tall skyscrapers. Normally you loved to stroll through the buzzing streets but tonight felt different. The attack too fresh in your mind. You hesitated for a moment when Rebecca offered you a lift home. But she would have to do a detour and you didn’t want to be a bother to your coworker. So you took the underground home, like always and like always you would walk the last part to your apartment. But tonight every little sound made you jump and you lost count of how many times you turned to make sure no one was following you. Hyper aware of your surroundings you hurried over the old pavement. You almost forgot to pick up the Thai food you ordered, stopping by the small restaurant on the last minute. It was a save haven. All the different smells invading your senses felt like a break and your racing heart could go back to its normal rate.

Finally home, you let out a shaky breath. “Salem?” You called into the dark apartment. A purring echoed through the dark and a warm body was pressed against your legs. You chuckled humorless. “Sometimes you really behave like a cat.” Salem stopped brushing against your legs. “I thought that you needed some comfort tonight.” His voice nonchalant as ever but you knew him long enough that you could hear his concerns for you. You stooped down and ruffled his fur. “How exceedingly thoughtful of you.” He purred again. “I have my moments.” You just quickly stepped into your bedroom to put on something more comfortable, conscious of the hot food getting colder and after minutes you rushed out again.

“I’m gonna head down to Matt. Try and don’t miss me too much.” You ruffled Salem’s fur a last time, then grabbed the takeaway and your keys and made your way downstairs.

Waiting for your neighbor to open the door, you recalled the first time you knocked on his door. The way he opened it in only his boxer briefs. His hair all ruffled and a sheepish grin on his lips. You fell for him that day and you fell hard. First it was only physical attraction but now after getting to know him, you couldn’t help the crush you developed. Your thoughts were cut short, when said crush opened the door. You held the bags of Thai up and smiled. “Got our dinner.” He returned the smile and stepped to the side so you could enter.

Settled on the couch with a bottle of wine and the fast food containers, you sat next to him. Seeing him in blue sweatpants and a normal shirt was so different than seeing him in a suit and tie. It was a nice change, made you feel strangely familiar. You snorted, what a silly thought. It was still normal lounge wear, but still it had something intimate. You decided that Matt looked good in everything, even in sweatpants and t-shirt. “What’s so funny?” His deep timbre filled the air and you didn’t realize that you chuckled audibly.

“Eeh, nothing. Really.” You could feel his questioning look even behind his glasses. “It’s just … seeing you in something else than a suit and tie is… kinda strange?” You shrugged and took a sip of your wine. “You have seen me in something else than my work attire.” Of course he was referring to your first meeting, that sneaky bastard. Matt knew that the sheer mention of it got your heart beating a bit faster and your cheeks a bit warmer. And today wasn’t any different. You groaned embarrassed. “Why do you have to bring it up every time?! As if me interrupting your fun time wasn’t embarrassing enough.”

Matt chuckled and put down his empty box. The mood shifted into something playful and flirty. Matt would’ve loved to keep it that light but he promised to talk to Brett and he did, well he would tell you he did, but ultimately he didn’t had to. He wanted to ask you if you healed him and if so how did you do it. And he wanted to ask you about your cat! Definitely a pout Salem. This shook him more than the fact, that he died and came back from the dead apparently. But he couldn’t ask all those question.

This dilemma gnawed at him for the whole day. His conflicting emotions were flittering over his face for a second, not long enough for you to notice but for him to put a stop to his running thoughts. He needed to focus on something else - so he did by shifting his entire focus on you. The way your body dented his couch or how the scent of cardamom from your curry still lingered on your lips. Or the way you brushed through your hair, when you couldn’t stand the tingle of it on your skin anymore. Or the way you held the wine glass with your dominant hand but switched it occasionally just to put your hand on his when he said something funny. Or how your heart rate was always a bit higher than usual when you were near him.

This wasn’t helping at all! Thank God you saved him from his spiraling thoughts by asking him about his research. “What did your police friend say?” You nippled on your bottom lip. Not ready to hear the answer. Matt searched for your hand and you feared the worst. “There wasn’t a body in either the hospital or the morgue that would’ve fit your description.” You exhaled loudly, relieved that your savior was still alive. But then… your mind was racing. This meant that your sister saved him after all. Tears pricked your eyes and you sniffled lightly. The fountain that had been buried since this morning burst open and all the suppressed emotions gushed out. “I’m so glad.” You put your glass down and wiped over your face. “It’s silly isn’t it?” You let out a dry laugh, wiping away more tears. “I don’t even know who he is and still…” Matt shook his head. “It’s not silly. Not at all.” He patted your arm compassionately.

He opened his arms, offering a hug. You half hiccuped, half laughed before you leaned in.

The first thing you noticed was his warmth. The comfort of his embrace seeped into your very being. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck. Content with the feeling of his hands on your back. The second thing you noticed was his quick heartbeat that echoed through your chest and danced with your own quickened pulse.

After what felt like a long time you pulled apart. “Thank you, Matt. Really.” You emphasized each word with a meaningful look. “Anytime, (Y/N).” He still held onto your hands, drawing small circles with his thumb over them. It felt nice, safe and naturally. You drank in his appearance, now being so close to him. He didn’t wear his glasses and you could see his brown - unmoving - eyes, you always wondered what he could pick up with his other senses. His hair was still s bit damp from the shower he took earlier and as you were scanning over his features you noticed small cuts and bruises over his jaw and on the side of his neck. Without thought you traced over the wounds.

“What happened there?”

“Ran into an open cupboard door at the office. It’s nothing.”

“And what about here?”

You traced over the big bruise that extended from his neck to his shoulder, moving his shirt out of the way a little. He caught your wandering hand. “I’m blind, (Y/N). Sometimes I overlook things and then I stumble.” You couldn’t help but feel bad. Matt got so defensive and you had the feeling that he didn’t wanted to talk about the real reason. Maybe you overstepped. Matt must’ve sensed your inner struggle, as he began caressing your hands again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off so snappy.” You stopped him with a wave of your hand. “And I shouldn’t have pried.” You freed your hand from his, reluctantly. “Here let me show you something.” Matt knitted his brows together, a questioning look on his face. “Just trust me and hold still for a second.” With that you put your hand on his bruised jaw, closing your eyes and focusing on his wound.

Heat radiated from your hands and his world on flames glowed a bit brighter. A humming filled the air, it built up, peaked, and ebbed away. After a minute or so you opened your eyes again and removed your hand from his face - now fully healed. “You forgot to sing: Flower gleam and glow, Let your power shine.” Matt tried to comprehend what just happened. With aliens falling through a whole in Midtown and literal Gods flying by, he shouldn’t be surprised that you could heal wounds. Now he was certain that he owed you his life.

“I don’t have magic hair.” You nudged him into his shoulder. “I have never shown that to anyone…” your eyes skittered over his apartment. “To tell the truth, I’m not aloud to use my powers and I’m 99% sure that S.H.I.E.L.D will burst through your door any minute.” You laughed nervously. What were you thinking? You couldn’t take this back, what if they would do something to Matt just because he knew. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid heart, never listens to the head.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” He crossed his heart over-dramatically. You shoved at him playfully. Taking advantage of the momentum, he pulled you with him, so that you both were using the full length of the couch. “I promise!” He breathed while he was rubbing his thumb across your lower lip. Your gaze wandered towards his lips. Anticipation made itself known. He closed his eyes, leaning closer, so close that your noses almost touched. You could feel his breath fan over your face. Your eyes fluttered close and with a soft smile, you leaned fully into him.

He was careful, not demanding or anything. He kissed you with a tenderness that made you feel like the floor was swept away under your feet. Your lips parted and met several times and never did you feel an urge behind his actions. It was all sweet and tender movements. Almost innocent. Matt was a good kisser, the way he pulled you closer to him, so that you were fully laying on top of him was in stark contracts to the way he kissed you. When your lips parted again, this time for good, all you could do was exist and not think a single thought. A quick glaze towards the man under you, revealed that he was having the same trouble. Never had he thought that he would feel so light hearted, so content. And all this from just mere kisses.

“Wow.”

He chuckled lightly.

“Yes, wow.”

After a few blissed out moments you shifted your weight, laying comfortably on his chest. Silent fell over you. Not an uneasy or awkward one. No, it was so easy with Matt. There were no need for words. It was a spurt of the moment. You both enjoyed each others company, both were lost in their own thoughts. There was much to discuss but not tonight and probably not tomorrow. But soon, that was sure.

[keikakudori]

(KICKS YOUR DOOR DOWN) HEY LU, talk about how aizen felt when gin first got his bankai back in the day and became a captain, with a focus on how -- at the time -- gin has achieved bankai when aizen couldn't/didn't. we know this timeframe for them was rather rough due to the fact that gin was essentially now fully capable of murdering aizen, their reiatsu essentially equaling out, but we also need to talk about aizen coming to terms with the fact that gin just did something he cannot do.

out.

One of these days I'm going to make you replace my door, Cas-- but seriously, this is such a good question. After all, this is one of those very significant moments that passed between Aizen and Gin. I mean, after all, this is the moment where their dynamic shifted because, as you said, Aizen realizing that Gin reaching his Bankai meant that there was every chance he could be killed --- but it goes deeper than that with them, as it always, always does. And, boy, this is one of those ... I want to say defining moments in their relationship where nothing changed and yet everything changed.

So let's get into the meta, shall we?

First, to cover how Aizen felt the first time he saw Gin's Bankai.

The word that comes to mind always when I think about it is excited. The pride is a very close second, but those are the two emotions that come forth the most when I think on it. Aizen is excited over what Gin's done. He's proud that Gin's accomplished what is arguably the pinnacle of a Shinigami's power. He's achieved Bankai. He's grown skilled enough and kept it secret enough from Aizen that it's honestly this openly delightful surprise for him. He can't help but feel that and he wanted to celebrate it. Forget for the moment the way Gin can seethe at him. For the moment, forget about the flashes of sheer murderous intent that have flared from time to time. Forget all of that. That's not what's on Aizen's mind when this happens.

He's proud of Gin. He's proud and he's not shy about showing it. He's excited and it's almost boyish.

The roughness comes later, after Gin's achieved the haori, but on that particular day? Yeah, it was nothing but the glowing pride and delight as the initial reaction, an excitement, even a downright exuberance that was what Gin was given.

Realization came second, however, in the period of time after Gin's display ( and after that pair of Aizen's glasses was cut off his face ) and that's probably the moment when Aizen realized that things had changed. Captains are not exactly required to have a Bankai to be a captain, yet it is a qualifier for it and Aizen realized that too. He understood that Gin had taken a step that put him much closer to Aizen's own level and it was something that was both thrilling to him and while I won't say terrifying ... it left him ... anticipatory.

All because he understood that things between them had changed.

I won't say that Aizen didn't have some kind of darker excitement because it meant that the line in the sand, that one line that he refused to step over for years ( because someone was a little shit who enjoyed teasing the hell out of his captain to the point where there were broken armrests and brush handles from said captain restraining himself. ) was suddenly much less deeply embedded now.

That was one of the largest changes between them because Aizen had been firmly insistent on keeping things from progressing too far in their flirtation and attraction; kisses, touches, but nothing too far beyond that. Of course, that was always plenty of room to play around in. And that was probably the change that had the largest impact between them. After all, there was that silent demand from Aizen that he wanted Gin to be his equal before they ever did progress to being completely intimate and that demand was fulfilled in that instant that Gin displayed his power to his captain. It was more than fulfilled and thus the excitement, the joy, the pride.

But the other major change was that awareness, that thought: Gin is capable of killing me. At some point, we'll have to sit and nail down exactly when those discussions took place, the ones where it gave Gin that oh so wonderful line of "you're going to die with a hole in your heart, just like you always wanted." because literally what the fuck did Aizen and Gin talk about that led to him saying that? And that's the change that I would argue won out above all the other changes. The awareness. The danger that Gin carried now with a Bankai named the way it was, but Aizen didn't see that it was aimed at himself. Yet that was a new lethal edge that Gin had to him and it thrilled Aizen.

What might surprise people is that Aizen didn't resent the fact that he didn't have a Bankai; Aizen had consciously and consistently made the choice to refuse learning Bankai himself every time that Kyoka Suigetsu offered it to him, after all. He repeatedly turned away from learning the power of his Bankai because Aizen never wanted that power for himself. Plenty of his life was dictated by how much power he had, how much he refused it.

After all, Aizen admits that he has at least twice the power of a regular Shinigami captain; while we don't know what the baseline is for a captain's strength, he is one of the most powerful characters in the entire series, if not the most powerful after the Blood War. Yet, that's still years off from the time when Gin displayed his Bankai for the first time. At that point, Aizen understood that there were changes in what happened. No matter that he had no Bankai of his own, no matter what he thought about himself, this change thrilled him. It thrilled him because Gin was becoming, finally, what it was that Aizen wanted in someone: Gin was becoming his equal. Or rather, he was rising as an equal openly, visibly; the Bankai only proved that.

Add that upon the realization that he felt this thrill over the understanding the danger that was presented by Gin's new level of power and, honestly, Aizen found it rather erotic.

The truth of the matter is that Gin's Bankai changed things between them in the best and, perhaps, the worst of ways. There was the dawning realization in those minutes after his exuberance that one day, Gin really would try to kill him. There was the understanding that he outright expected it from the young man who had become his lieutenant in the wake of what he'd done; after all, it was something that they had both understood for years, since nearly from the start of their lives blending together, even before then when Gin witnessed what it was that he had been doing on a cool night when men knelt before him. But there was also a brighter side to that moment, no matter the darker undertone in that few minutes. That brighter side? Aizen was realizing that he had found what he'd searched so long for in Gin and Gin had gained the power, the ability, to be able to kill him. The consequence came later in the evolution of their relationship with one another, yet that remained years off in the future.

In the first moments? It was the pride in Gin's power that touched Aizen first. It was the understanding, the wanting, the excitement that Gin had progressed so far with his power that filled him with delight and joy. Tying everything else together was the realization, the understanding, that Gin was no longer the boy he'd met underneath that moonlight with blood gleaming slick and black on his face. In that moment, in that instance, Aizen realized something else; Ichimaru Gin had become a man and that stirred a fresh new hunger in him that took a little longer to pay out.

Truthfully, Aizen hadn't expected such a strong response in himself for feeling that way, but he didn't try to hide it either from the younger man. He saw no reason to hide it. He wanted to show that to Gin. He wanted to show him that he was, indeed, proud of what it was that he witnessed on that day. I think that's what Aizen holds onto the most -- his pride in what he witnessed. His pride in how far that the younger man had come. For such a young Shinigami, he had come quite far; Aizen knew that Gin could go farther still. But yes; it's the pride he enjoys holding onto, more than the darker realization.

He's proud of Gin.

He always will be.

[fallinallincurls]

A Heart of Love & Pride

this is a short but super sweet blurb for @stroopwaffle8​ who sent me the soft thought last night. i had a lot of fun writing this and hope you love it. congrats again!!

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 948

~~~~~

It’s only an email. But you know the moment the little notification is cleared and you look at the contents of whatever that simple email may say, your life is going to be changed for better or for worse.

Over the last several months, you’ve been putting in countless hours of work to apply to nursing school. It had always been a dream of yours and while sending the application in was only half the battle, the anticipation and hope that has been building over the past two weeks has only made finding out feel even more significant.

And now it’s here. The long awaited email.

You’ve been pacing the living room for half an hour, but it feels like an eternity. A million thoughts race through your mind as you keep a tight grasp on your phone. Nate’s at practice, one of the last few before the finals, so despite how you’d prefer him to be here with you for this, you push away the idea of calling him. He’s this close to reaching his own dream which means your support and love is necessary for him more than ever.

But before you have a chance to think any further on the decision, the front door opens and there’s your boyfriend. He’s home early, not that you’ll complain because the timing couldn’t be any better. 

“Hey, babe.” Nate says, flashing the crooked smile reserved only for you. A sense of relief washes over you at the sight of him. He looks unbelievably cozy in his hoodie and joggers, blonde hair perfectly tousled and blue eyes sparkling with happiness. As long as Nate’s here, nothing can go wrong. In no time, he’s wrapping you up in a tight embrace and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. There’s nothing but love flowing through your veins, but Nate immediately picks up on the anxiety still evident. “What’s going on?” He asks, one hand cradling your cheek.

“I got the email about nursing school.” 

“And?” Nate questions, excitement seeping into the single word. He swears you have nothing to worry about. There’s no one smarter or more deserving of this than you.

“And I haven’t opened it yet. It’s a little terrifying.” You admit, leaning into your sturdy boyfriend for a moment of comfort.

“Let’s do it together then.” Nate suggests before pulling you to the couch, making both of you giggle uncontrollably. You settle on his lap and he keeps his arms wrapped around your waist as you unlock your phone. His eyes flicker between your face and the way you navigate to your email app, warmth filling his chest. It doesn’t matter if you got in or not, he’s still going to be incredibly proud of you.

The little blue dot and words seem to be taunting you from the screen, making the anxiety bubble even more. With a deep breath, you speak again which surprises Nate a little bit.

“Can you open it? I’ll read it, obviously, but I think it would be better if you actually opened it.” Nate nods before you’re even done speaking and he kisses your temple before murmuring sweet words that make you feel slightly less nervous.

“Okay,” Nate breathes out, finger hovering over the phone screen. “Ready?” This time, you nod and Nate doesn’t hesitate to click open the unread email. Immediately, your eyes are scanning over the many tiny words and your heart stops when you find the most important line. 

“Holy shit, Y/N! You did it, ohmygod!!” Nate exclaims, a bright smile blossoming across his lips. 

“I got in! I got in!” You almost scream with joy, turning to squeeze Nate in a big hug. His chuckle fills the air as he secures you close to his body and stands from the couch, only to spin you around in a circle. You can’t help but laugh, trying your best to memorize every detail of this exact moment.

You did it. You really did it. All the hard work paid off. 

When your feet touch the ground again, Nate’s blue eyes meet yours and he kisses you as if there aren’t enough words to express how amazed he is. He breaks away too soon for your liking, but pulls you close in a hug that warms your chest like nothing else.

“I knew you could do it, baby. You have no idea how proud I am of you.” Nate whispers, each word dripping with genuine adoration and happiness as he peppers your face with little kisses.

“Couldn’t do it without you, bubs. You know that.”

“We have to celebrate! This is a huge deal.” 

“What are you thinking?” You tease when that familiar look crosses over his face. The one that means he’s putting together some kind of plan.

“Dinner at your favorite place, celebratory ice cream and a few surprises for the bedroom later.” Nate smirks, kissing your forehead. “Now, go get ready. We can’t be wasting so much time for something so important.”

A string of giggles fall from your lips as you head towards the bedroom with a heart full of love, thanks to your boyfriend, and pride, knowing that you got into nursing school which is one step closer to your dream.

“Y/N?” Nate calls out suddenly, making you turn around to face him again. A deep blush colors his cheeks and that smile you love so much is still in place. “I’m really proud of you. I can’t say it enough.”

And with that, you know no matter how hard things may get going forward to reach the end result of what this decision means, you’ll get there with Nate by your side.

[sukirichi]

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one  ✘  two  ✘  three 

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

taglist OPEN: @sixeyesgojo @bongofrito @7tsumurai @aphnyoturkey​ @stuckindreamland06​ @dogsarenyspiritanimal​ @thebeardedmoon​ @lildreamer93​ @pizzaspirits​ @q-the-rockaholic​ @rogueofbullshit​ @ladywaifuuwrites​ @flochsgirl​ @hamsa-mage @sonic-and-songs​ @vsvwi @misslovingpearl | bolded users can’t be tagged 

[juyeoniemyhoney]

make you feel my love

Losing means nothing to Ishikawa when he has you.

pairing: ishikawa yuki x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: i don’t think there’s any!

word count: 2074 words

A/N: i honestly dont know who wants to read this but im just gonna post it anyways HAHA so here all you ishikawa simps pls enjoy<3

--------

It all happens at once.

The noise— screams of all pitches and encouragements of all sorts, forming a raucous cacophony in the large gymnasium— halts almost immediately; like a vacuum has sucked it all up and the only thing that is left is an eerie stillness as everyone waits in antsy anticipation for the player to serve.

And then he is running up, throwing the ball great lengths into the air and jumping to meet it halfway, hitting the ball with such force and determination you can almost feel the impact yourself. The ball hurtles through the air and crosses the net with such speed you almost don't see it.

But the Japanese team does. Their libero, Yamamoto, crosses the court in a flash and bumps the ball up so high up it gives his teammates half a second to breathe before they are rushing to connect it, the setter, Sekita, tossing the ball higher in the air for Ishikawa to hit it.

The tall Brazilians loom over him like a curse, like bad karma, as determined as the Japanese are, but not nearly as desperate. Ishikawa does not mind them and he bravely hits the ball with as much strength as his worn out body allows him, sending every last bit of energy into this spike, hoping, praying, practically begging for it to work, for the ball to hit the other side of the court with such violence that the Brazilians would not be able to even react before it hits the floor.

The next thing you know, the ball hits the hands of the Brazilians and is spindling down towards the floor at breakneck speed. Yamamoto, Sekita and Ishikawa (when he lands), all throw themselves to the floor in a desperate bid to save it, to not let it touch the floor, to not let all their hard work be washed down into a drain. But to no avail.

The ball hits the floor with a resounding thud. The whistle blows and all at once, the Brazilian supporters leap from their seats and yell and scream and shout with unadulterated joy. Because they have won! They have won the game! And the Japanese have lost. The Japanese team and their supporters are quiet in the wake of their loss. You do not move, almost as if if you did, the bleachers would crack open, the earth beneath the gymnasium would cave in and you would be falling to the floor, through the soil and to the core of the earth.

The three men lift themselves up from the floor with the weight of defeat on their shoulders and their teammates pat their backs silently, looking solemn but trying to be as encouraging as possible. The team gathers at the end line of the court and another whistle blows, signalling both teams to bow. When Ishikawa's eyes hit the floor, so do the tears.

He cries in silent agony, somehow feeling like it is all his fault. He is the captain, he should have led them better than this. He is the ace, he should have been able to hit pass those blocks. He knew hitting hard was risky, he should have been more careful. He should have moved faster, reacted faster, gotten to the ball faster. He should have been sharper, more alert, better. He should have been better.

His teammates shed a few tears too, but not quite nearly as much as Ishikawa. It's unrelenting— his tears. It doesn't want to stop, even when Ishikawa roughly wipes at his eyes in frustration, desperately wanting the raw showing of emotion to stop. Everyone can see him cry in this moment and he hates it.

When Ishikawa and his team begin to move off the court, is when you break from your stunned daze. Quite frankly, you were shocked speechless. You knew Brazil was a tough opponent but your faith in your boys would always trump any form of doubt. You knew they could do it. You knew they would be able to do it. Until they didn't.

You do not see the tears from quite so far away, but when you do, you are ripping yourself from your seat with such great speed, the people around you jump in surprise. You do not care, you do not even really notice before you are sprinting down the stairs, leaping from each flight, ignoring the desperate calls of your best friend and the shocked expressions directed at you as you race to the exit of the court.

"Ishikawa Yuki!" you yell just in case you don't catch them in time. You know you could just call him or meet him at his house but you came as a surprise, and though you'd wish you could surprise him after his victory, you think that surprising him and being able to comfort him in his loss will mean just as much.

At the sound of your voice, his head whips around, eyes wide in shock as he desperately searches the people for your face, eyes glassy with unshed tears and vision slightly blurry. You jump off the rest of the stairs, running to him with flailing arms. And when Ishikawa sees you, you swear you see his lips pout, eyes glossing over as tears run down his face.

You grin and run to him and he drops everything, his water bottle, his towel, his jacket, everything, so that he can hold his arms open for you to run into and give him a big hug. And you do exactly that. You run straight into his arms, wrapping your arms around his torso and shoving your face into his chest, not caring at all that he is drenched in sweat (and possibly tears), not caring at all that almost the whole gymnasium full of people can see the two of you have such an intimate moment, not caring at all because Ishikawa Yuki, the love of your life, is in tears and you have to do everything in your power to stop that.

Ishikawa's arms wrap around you too, holding you so tight and dear to him, you swear the both of you stop breathing. And with you in his arms, he finally crumbles to the floor, tears spilling from his eyes and sobs escaping his throat in ugly, high-pitched hiccups. But he doesn't care, you don't care, he's safe as long as you're here.

"When did you get here? I thought you were only going to touchdown tomorrow," he whispers in between sobs, his shaking, swollen hand coming up to your hair and entangling his fingers with the strands messily. You pull away slightly and pull Ishikawa down so that your chin rests on his shoulder and he can bury his face into your neck, your hand coming up to his sweaty hair to run your fingers through the corse, tangled strands as Ishikawa continues to cry in your arms. This position is so incredibly uncomfortable. After all, Ishikawa is insanely tall and the top of your head doesn't even really reach his neck, and you're sure Ishikawa's back is going to hurt a little later but he doesn't seem to mind at all at the position change, indulging in you as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, hot breaths that tickle your skin, coming out in pants as he struggles to control his sobs.

"I wanted to surprise you," you say with a fond smile, the hand that was idle on his back coming up to send a wave to his teammates when your eyes meet, even sending one to his coach, who just smiles bitterly at you. His teammates send you rueful smiles and thumbs-ups of approval before they make their way back to the locker rooms, leaving you and Ishikawa to continue embracing at the exit of the court.

Ishikawa lets out a tearful laugh, saying, "Well, I'm surprised alright. I was just thinking about you when you called my name. I almost thought I was seeing things.".

You laugh but do not reply, allowing a comfortable silence to take over as Ishikawa lets all his emotions out in the form of hot, regretful tears. Your hand continues to soothe him with pats and strokes to his back and your hand remains in his hair. Ishikawa's large hands fist your shirt at your waist as his tears and sweat seep into your shirt. You don't mind. Of course, if this were anyone else you would. But this is Ishikawa Yuki, and you love him more than anything else in this world.

"You played so well," you whisper after a while of silence. You can feel Ishikawa wanting to pull away from you but you do not allow him, knowing full well that he wants to pull away to argue with you, to debunk your words with his incessant humility, so you do not allow him. You do not allow him to deny himself the praise he very much deserves because he's worked hard for this, no matter the outcome, he and his teammates have worked his ass off for this, and the least you can do is praise him.

"Yuki, you played very well. Don't try and deny it," you say with a firm voice, hand on his head keeping his chin to your shoulder. At this, he finally laughs and you loosen your grip, allowing him to pull out of your embrace just enough for him to see your face.

His cheeks are tear-stained and his eyes are beginning to puff up with all his crying, red beginning to bloom at the corner of his eyes, slowly taking over the white. His smile is nothing short of breathtaking, swollen eyes and red lips curled up brilliantly, smile lines and the corners of his eyes creasing sweetly. You can't help but grin back when you see his smile, nose souring with endearment.

"You know me so well," he comments, fingers coming up to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear, fingers trailing down your jaw to your chin, tilting your face up just a little bit more. His fingers guide your head just slightly forward before he is meeting you halfway in a sweet kiss, grinning immediately after your lips meet his.

Ishikawa's eyes trace over your every feature, observing, remembering, ingraining; tracing over the curve of your eyes, the slope of your nose, the perk of your lips, the peak of your eyebrows, and the line of your jaw, fingers ghosting over each feature along with his eyes, all the while maintaining the smile on his lips.

Then, he is giving your forehead a sweet kiss before pulling out of your embrace fully, turning around to pick up the things he had dropped when you came running into his arms. He brushes off his jacket and drapes it across your shoulders, holding open the jacket for you to slip your arms into the sleeves, to which you do, before he is hooking the zip and zipping it all the way up to your chin.

In his mind, he laughs at the way you are dwarfed by his jacket. Your hands can barely be seen, only the tips of your fingers peeking out from the sleeves, and the jacket, where it usually ends at his hip, ends almost at your knees. Unconsciously, he smiles and has to physically restrain himself from pinching your cheeks.

After he zips up his jacket, he bends down to pick up his towel, draping it over his shoulder before he is bending down once again to pick up his water bottle, having set them down to help you put on his jacket. Then, without a word but with the largest, goofiest grin, he takes your hand in his and leads you out of the court and to the locker rooms in a comfortable silence, fingers intertwined with yours.

For a second there, he almost forgets that they lost the game and are not able to proceed to the quarter-finals. For a second there, he almost completely forgets about his regrets and anger and frustration. And it's all because of you. And of course, he is eternally grateful to you. After all, what on earth would he do without you? He would still be crying his ass off, that's what, though he would never admit it out loud. And it is because of this reason— though he would do it without a reason at all— that he kisses you a little longer, hugs you a little tighter, loves you a little more.

[duckprintspress]

How to Edit an Over-Length Story Down to a Specific Word Count

One of the most wonderful things about writing as a hobby is that you never have to worry about the length of your story. You can be as self-indulgent as you want, make your prose the royalist of purples, include every single side story and extra thought that strikes your fancy. It’s your story, with no limits, and you can proceed with it as you wish.

When transitioning from casual writing to a more professional writing milieu, this changes. If you want to publish, odds are, you’ll need to write to a word count. If a flash fiction serial says, “1,000 words or less,” your story can’t be 1,025 and still qualify. If a website says, “we accept novellas ranging from 20,000 to 40,000 words,” your story will need to fall into that window. Even when you consider novel-length works, stories are expected to be a certain word count to fit neatly into specific genres - romance is usually around 80,000 words, young adult usually 50,000 to 80,000, debut novels usually have to be 100,000 words or less regardless of genre, etc. If you self-publish or work with a small press, you may be able to get away with breaking these “rules,” but it’s still worthwhile to learn to read your own writing critically with length in mind and learn to recognize what you do and do not need to make your story work - and then, if length isn’t an issue in your publishing setting, you can always decide after figuring out what’s non-essential to just keep everything anyway.

If you’re writing for fun? You literally never have to worry about your word count (well, except for sometimes in specific challenges that have minimum and/or maximum word counts), and as such, this post is probably not for you.

But, if you’re used to writing in the “throw in everything and the kitchen sink” way that’s common in fandom fanfiction circles, and you’re trying to transition only to be suddenly confronted with the reality that you’ve written 6,000 words for a short story project with a maximum word count of 5,000...well, we at Duck Prints Press have been there, we are in fact there right now, as we finish our stories for our upcoming anthology Add Magic to Taste and many of us wrote first drafts that were well over the maximum word count.

So, based on our experiences, here are our suggestions on approaches to help your story shorter...without losing the story you wanted to tell!

Cut weasel words (we wrote a whole post to help you learn how to do that!) such as unnecessary adverbs and adjectives, the “was ~ing” sentence structure, redundant time words such as “a moment later,” and many others.

When reviewing dialog, keep an eye out for “uh,” “er,” “I mean,” “well,” and other casual extra words. A small amount of that kind of language usage can make dialog more realistic, but a little goes a long way, and often a fair number of words can be removed by cutting these words, without negatively impacting your story at all.

Active voice almost always uses fewer words than passive voice, so try to use active voice more (but don’t forget that passive voice is important for varying up your sentence structures and keeping your story interesting, so don’t only write in active voice!).

Look for places where you can replace phrases with single words that mean the same thing. You can often save a lot of words by switching out phrases like “come back” for “return” and seeking out other places where one word can do the work of many.

Cut sentences that add atmosphere but don't forward the plot or grow your characters. (Obviously, use your judgement. Don't cut ALL the flavor, but start by going - I’ve got two sentences that are mostly flavor text - which adds more? And then delete the other, or combine them into one shorter sentence.)

Remove superfluous dialog tags. If it’s clear who’s talking, especially if it’s a conversation between only two people, you can cut all the he saids, she saids.

Look for places where you've written repetitively - at the most basic level, “ ‘hahaha,’ he laughed,” is an example, but repetition is often more subtle, like instances where you give information in once sentence, and then rephrase part or all of that sentence in the next one - it’s better to poke at the two sentences until you think of an effective, and more concise, way to make them into only one sentence. This also goes for scenes - if you’ve got two scenes that tend towards accomplishing the same plot-related goal, consider combining them into one scene.

Have a reason for every sentence, and even every sentence clause (as in, every comma insertion, every part of the sentence, every em dashed inclusion, that kind of thing). Ask yourself - what function does this serve? Have I met that function somewhere else? If it serves no function, or if it’s duplicative, consider cutting it. Or, the answer may be “none,” and you may choose to save it anyway - because it adds flavor, or is very in character for your PoV person, or any of a number of reasons. But if you’re saving it, make sure you’ve done so intentionally. It's important to be aware of what you're trying to do with your words, or else how can you recognize what to cut, and what not to cut?

Likewise, have a reason for every scene. They should all move the story along - whatever the story is, it doesn’t have to be “the end of the world,” your story can be simple and straightforward and sequential...but if you’re working to a word count, your scenes should still forward the story toward that end point. If the scene doesn’t contribute...you may not need them, or you may be able to fold it in with another scene, as suggested in item 6.

Review the worldbuilding you’ve included, and consider what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. A bit of worldbuilding outside of the bare essentials makes a story feel fleshed out, but again, a little can go a long way. If you’ve got lots of “fun” worldbuilding bits that don’t actually forward your plot and aren’t relevant to your characters, cut them. You can always put them as extras in your blog later, but they’ll just make your story clunky if you have a lot of them.

Beware of info-dumps. Often finding a more natural way to integrate that information - showing instead of telling in bits throughout the story - can help reduce word count.

Alternatively - if you over-show, and never tell, this will vastly increase your word count, so consider if there are any places in your story where you can gloss over the details in favor of a shorter more “tell-y” description. You don’t need to go into a minute description of every smile and laugh - sometimes it’s fine to just say, “she was happy” or “she frowned” without going into a long description of their reaction that makes the reader infer that they were happy. (Anyone who unconditionally says “show, don’t tell,” is giving you bad writing advice. It’s much more important to learn to recognize when showing is more appropriate, and when telling is more appropriate, because no story will function as a cohesive whole if it’s all one or all the other.)

If you’ve got long paragraphs, they’re often prime places to look for entire sentences to cut. Read them critically and consider what’s actually helping your story instead of just adding word count chonk.

Try reading some or all of the dialog out loud; if it gets boring, repetitive, or unnecessary, end your scene wherever you start to lose interest, and cut the dialog that came after. If necessary, add a sentence or two of description at the end to make sure the transition is abrupt, but honestly, you often won’t even need to do so - scenes that end at the final punchy point in a discussion often work very well.

Create a specific goal for a scene or chapter. Maybe it’s revealing a specific piece of information, or having a character discover a specific thing, or having a specific unexpected event occur, but, whatever it is, make sure you can say, “this scene/chapter is supposed to accomplish this.” Once you know what you’re trying to do, check if the scene met that goal, make any necessary changes to ensure it does, and cut things that don’t help the scene meet that goal.

Building on the previous one, you can do the same thing, but for your entire story. Starting from the beginning, re-outline the story scene-by-scene and/or chapter-by-chapter, picking out what the main “beats” and most important themes are, and then re-read your draft and make sure you’re hitting those clearly. Consider cutting out the pieces of your story that don’t contribute to those, and definitely cut the pieces that distract from those key moments (unless, of course, the distraction is the point.)

Re-read a section you think could be cut and see if any sentences snag your attention. Poke at that bit until you figure out why - often, it’s because the sentence is unnecessary, poorly worded, unclear, or otherwise superfluous. You can often rewrite the sentence to be clearer, or cut the sentence completely without negatively impacting your work.

Be prepared to cut your darlings; even if you love a sentence or dialog exchange or paragraph, if you are working to a strict word count and it doesn't add anything, it may have to go, and that's okay...even though yes, it will hurt, always, no matter how experienced a writer you are. (Tip? Save your original draft, and/or make a new word doc where you safely tuck your darlings in for the future. Second tip? If you really, really love it...find a way to save it, but understand that to do so, you’ll have to cut something else. It’s often wise to pick one or two favorites and sacrifice the rest to save the best ones. We are not saying “always cut your darlings.” That is terrible writing advice. Don’t always cut your darlings. Writing, and reading your own writing, should bring you joy, even when you’re doing it professionally.)

If you’re having trouble recognizing what in your own work CAN be cut, try implementing the above strategies in different places - cut things, and then re-read, and see how it works, and if it works at all. Sometimes, you’ll realize...you didn’t need any of what you cut. Other times, you’ll realize...it no longer feels like the story you were trying to tell. Fiddle with it until you figure out what you need for it to still feel like your story, and practice that kind of cutting until you get better at recognizing what can and can’t go without having to do as much tweaking.

Lastly...along the lines of the previous...understand that sometimes, cutting your story down to a certain word count will just be impossible. Some stories simply can’t be made very short, and others simply can’t be told at length. If you’re really struggling, it’s important to consider that your story just...isn’t going to work at that word count. And that’s okay. Go back to the drawing board, and try again - you’ll also get better at learning what stories you can tell, in your style, using your own writing voice, at different word counts. It’s not something you’ll just know how to do - that kind of estimating is a skill, just like all other writing abilities.

As with all our writing advice - there’s no one way to tackle cutting stories for length, and also, which of these strategies is most appropriate will depend on what kind of story you’re writing, how much over-length it is, what your target market is, your characters, and your personal writing style. Try different ones, and see which work for you - the most important aspect is to learn to read your own writing critically enough that you are able to recognize what you can cut, and then from that standpoint, use your expertise to decide what you should cut, which is definitely not always the same thing. Lots of details can be cut - but a story with all of the flavor and individuality removed should never be your goal.

Contributions to this post were made by @unforth, @jhoomwrites, @alecjmarsh, @shealynn88, @foxymoley, @willablythe, and @owlishintergalactic, and their input has been used with their knowledge and explicit permission. Thanks, everyone, for helping us consider different ways to shorten stories!

[jikookiekosmos]

Use My Best Colors For Your Portrait || jjk

➥Pairing: best friend!jungkook/reader, boyfriend!jungkook/reader, artist!jungkook

➥Summary: After surprising Jungkook with his own studio room for his paintings, he couldn’t be any more over the moon. All’s well and good until he’s struggling to find inspiration...which you happily provide him with. He’s ecstatic to find his muse in you, and painting your portrait brings him so much joy. Things take a turn however, when he suddenly realizes what else he wants to paint.

➥Genre: established relationship, tiny bit of angst if you squint, fluff, smut

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.9k (small drabbles don’t exist for me apparently, oops)

➥Content warnings: most of this at the beginning is just cute fluff domestic times (finally not much angst!), blonde jungkook, jk ties his hair up at some point (my weakness), jk puts paints on the reader, making out, slight hair pulling, cursing, shower sex times, jungkook has a big dick, oral (m. receiving), very slight mouth fucking, dirty talk, fingering (very brief), unprotected sex (safe sex is great sex), biting, cumming inside, cute times in the shower, jungkook is actually the sweetest, reader and jk are so in love with each other it hurts, also jk saying ‘only for you’ is a thing i started and can’t stop now oops

A/N: hello! This is part of my Only for You (OFY) Drabble series, but it can be read as a stand-alone! Their relationship will make a lot more sense though if you’ve read OFY beforehand. This fic takes place roughly around six months after the events of OFY (so in between that and the dream drabble I also posted).

Once again, thank you to @dntaewithluv​ for her endless support and always giving me feedback, I forever appreciate you and your friendship is more than I could ever ask for 💜

I’ve written a few other drabbles and will list them below, along with a general timeline:

When I Dream of You - ~1 year after OFY

Stay With Me - a few months after the dream drabble

Also, I hope that if you read this, you enjoy it~

➥OFY Spotify Playlist (songs I listened to for inspo)

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn​

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You would do absolutely anything in the world for Jeon Jungkook.

Seeing him happy had to be at the top of your list of favorite things in the world, as it had been for many years as his best friend, and now in the several months since the two of you started dating. Some things just never changed, you guessed.

Which is why you took it upon yourself to change one of the spare rooms in the house you two were renting into a space where he could thrive as the artist he was. Initially, the two of you thought it would be nice to use that space as a work area for you, since your job required you to sometimes do work from home. And for a little while, that’s exactly what you did.

But ever since you found out Jungkook liked to paint – scratch that, he loved to paint, and had been doing so for longer than you thought – the gears started turning in your head.

The current space he was using to create his art was definitely less than ideal. The house had a decent sized garage area, so there was enough room for him to store his supplies and be able to paint without it being too much of an issue. The downside, though, was it was cramped and even though Jungkook said he didn’t mind it, you still couldn’t help the frown from masking your features whenever you saw him huddled up so close to his easel.

For the last few weeks, and with lots of help from internet searches, you’d been slowly converting your space into something like a studio. You didn’t have to worry about Jungkook finding out, either, since he very rarely went into that room seeing as he had no reason to. He respected your privacy the same as you respected his, so this made everything infinitely easier for you in the long run.

The day had finally arrived where you would show the new space to Jungkook. Everything was set up as perfect as you could manage it – at least you hoped so – and you were dying of excitement to show him as soon as possible.

You were also, however, incredibly nervous at the same time. What if he didn’t like it? Even worse, what if he hated it?

Of course, you knew deep down that there was no way Jungkook could hate anything you ever did, unless it was something horrible, but you worried about everything because that’s just how you were. So, when the two of you were sitting at the dinner table one night, you tried hard to swallow the lump in your throat as you listened to Jungkook talk about his newest work.

“I really think you’re gonna like how this one turns out, angel.” Jungkook was offering you a sweet smile as he went to grab another bite of food from his plate. You managed to smile back, despite the hammering of your heart against your chest. He was basically handing you the perfect opening for you to segue the conversation!

“I know I’ll love it, Koo.” You watched as his small smile turned into a full grin, his nose scrunching up in that adorable way that had you falling in love with him all over again every time you saw it.

“Speaking of your paintings,” you started off, clearing your throat while he swallowed down his food. He looked at you with his undivided attention and it made your heart skip a beat.

Ok let’s be real, every damn thing this man did made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah? What about them?” He twirled more of the noodles around his fork while he waited on your answer.

You gulped. “Wouldn’t you like it if you had more space?”

Jungkook chuckled and placed his fork down, shaking his head as he placed on hand on top of yours that was still resting by your plate. You’d barely touched your food and he noticed.

“Baby,” he started, “as much as I would love to have a bigger space, what I have now is just fine. I know you think it’s stifling my creativity in there, but I’m still creating things and am comfortable.” He squeezed you hand gently before returning to his food.

“I get that you think the garage is fine but what if I told you that- that you could have a bigger workspace.” You finally picked up your fork and were poking around at your own food now, avoiding his gaze. You could feel his stare boring into you regardless, though.

“I mean – yeah, hypothetically I could have more space, but it’s not in the cards for us right now and that’s ok, too. Maybe one day.”

The way he always was optimistic about your future together made you feel warm all over. Jungkook liked to look on the bright side of every situation, and it’s been enough to help you keep your own wits about yourself numerous times now.

But this time you wanted to show him that the future could be closer than he realized.

“Koo, can you come with me real quick? I have something I want to show you.”

You didn’t miss the confused look that flashed across his face for a second before his calm demeanor took over again.

“Of course.” He hopped up from the table, that smile you adored now plastered on his face. “Lead the way.”

“Ok but I also need you to close your eyes.” You reached out to take his hand and were rewarded with an eyebrow raise.

He hummed thoughtfully but did as you asked, closing his eyes and grasping your hand tighter so you could lead him wherever you planned to.

You walked through the house pulling him behind you, feeling your heartbeat quicken with every step to where its pace was almost concerning. Whether or not it was mostly from excitement or nervousness, you weren’t sure.

You finally reached your destination and let go of his hand so you could open the door.

“Keep your eyes closed, ok,” you asked. Jungkook simply nodded and you saw a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He had no idea what you were about to show him, but knowing you and how much he loved pretty much anything you did, he was sure it’d probably make him happy.

And he couldn’t have been more correct in his assumption.

At the quiet sound of you telling him he could open his eyes he did so, slowly at first, blinking to adjust to the light the now flooded over the both of you. It took him several seconds to register exactly what he was seeing, and when he did he couldn’t speak. All he could do was stare around the room, mouth agape.

Decorating the walls were the paintings he had given you, beautiful works of various sizes and themes. Alongside the far wall was a tall shelf that housed all his supplies (how had you managed to get them past him without him noticing?), and even some new things like paints he’d been eyeing for a while and other tools he hadn’t had a chance to get himself yet.

But in the middle of the room stood his easel and chair, set up in the similar fashion as it had been in the garage. His apron was draped across the back of the chair, and there was even tarp laid out underneath the workspace. You research had paid off because everything was set up in such a way that it created the perfect atmosphere for Jungkook’s creativity to shine through in ways it hadn’t been able to before.

You weren’t aware of this yet, however, because you were still watching Jungkook’s reaction. He still hadn’t said anything, and as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, you started to wonder if this was the right call-

Strong arms were pulling you up from the ground and spinning you around before you could process it, making you squeal with delight as Jungkook twirled you before bringing you back down to pepper kisses all over you face.

“Angel, I can’t believe this, you did all this for me?” He was still holding onto your hips tightly, beaming as he looked down at you. Your nod and giggle was all the confirmation he needed before he pulled you into another kiss, this one slightly more heated than the ones before.

“Do you like it,” you questioned when the both of you pulled away to breathe. Jungkook laughed before taking your face in his hands and brushing his nose along yours.

“Do I like it? Baby, I love it. It’s perfect! Thank you so much.” Another kiss. “I love it and I love you, I love you so fucking much.”

His happiness made your heart soar and you definitely knew that you’d do something like this an infinite amount of times if it meant he’d keep that smile on his face.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

A few weeks passed by and Jungkook had been using his new studio nearly everyday at this point. His creations had been increasing in numbers and he was starting to receive commissions from others thanks to his small online shop he’d set up with your help. He still worked at the bar as his primary job, but he was also grateful to have a hobby on the side that could potentially yield something lucrative.

Of course, Jungkook’s increase in his time spent on his art still didn’t take away from his time with you. If anything, it gave the both of you another way to spend time together, since now there was enough space for you to sit in and observe him paint when you couldn’t before. You often sat quietly and either did some of your own work or engaged in your own hobbies while he painted, and it was always peaceful.

There came a day, though, that you never thought you’d experience: Jungkook had run out of inspiration. He’d hit his first real artist’s block and it was taking a bigger toll on him than he would’ve liked.

You rubbed his shoulders as he sat in front of his easel one night, groaning in frustration about his current work. “It’s not turning out at all like I want it to. I’ve been struggling with finding new inspiration and it clearly shows in whatever this is.” He vaguely gestured to the canvas, prompting you to place a kiss on his cheek as you ran your hand through his pretty blonde hair. You knew that always helped to calm him down and this case was no exception.

Jungkook sighed heavily, turning to place a kiss on your palm that was still lingering around his face. “Sorry, I don’t mean to get worked up. It just sucks, you know? I’d been on this really good streak of creating things and now I just…can’t. It’s weird and I don’t like it.” He pouted slightly and the sight made you giggle.

“I know, baby, but you’ll figure something out. You always do.” You placed a kiss on top of his head before you walked around to sit on his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and one of his hands cradled your waist to steady you.

He was humming thoughtfully as he looked you up and down, your hands now playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“What are you thinking about?”

He smiled slyly. “You.”

You rolled you eyes before returning the smile. “Ok, what about me? I’m curious.”

His hand was rubbing up and down your side. “Nothing in particular, just usually looking at you can help me with inspiration.”

His confession made you gasp. “Really?”

He nodded and smiled wider. “Really. You inspire me a lot.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before sighing again. “This time though it’s not really working like I’d hoped.”

You watched his eyes close and his brows furrow before an idea popped into your head. “Hey,” you reached down to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you, “It might be a long shot, but: have you ever considered painting portraits?”

He pursed his lips as he thought about it. The simple act made you want to kiss him but now wasn’t the time.

“Honestly…no. I’ve never thought about it before because I usually prefer to paint scenery.”

You searched his eyes as you asked your next question. “Well, if you want to try, maybe you could paint me? Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, maybe it can help spark a new idea or something?”

You watched as his eyes slowly lit up at your suggestion, his face morphing into a smile that you mirrored.

“That’s a great idea! It’s something new and it also includes you, so I already love it.” You chuckled in his lap as he hugged you closer, placing a small kiss on your neck. “Thank you.”

You ran your hands through his hair again before leaning back. “Anything for you. Do you want to start now?”

He thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, we can do that. Is there, uh – was there something specific you wanted to wear for it?”

You wiggled your eyebrows suggestively. “Are you suggesting you want to paint a nude portrait?”

Even though Jungkook knew your body better than you did at this point, your words still managed to make him blush as he groaned. “No, I wasn’t thinking that- not that I’d mind of course just you know, whatever makes you comfortable-”

You laughed at his flustered nature before hopping off his lap. “You’re so cute. I’ll go find something to change into, it shouldn’t take long.”

“R-right,” he stuttered, still clearly somewhat affected by what you had said. You shook your head with amusement as you went to your bedroom to find something to wear. You settled for a purple dress that you knew Jungkook loved, and considering a lot of his paintings involved shades of purple and blue, you figured it would be perfect.

You knew you made the right choice when you stepped back into the room and saw Jungkook’s face when his eyes fell on you. He looked like he’d never seen someone so beautiful (he looked at you like that a lot and it always did something to you) and your lips curled upwards into a smile before you could realize it.

You stopped in the doorway and twirled, giving him a full view of the dress. “Is this ok?”

You already knew the answer, but it was always nice to hear him say it.

He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s perfect. You can, uh, you can take a seat whenever you’re ready.”

While you were changing, Jungkook had pulled one of the loveseats from the living room into the space so you’d have somewhere to sit or lay while he painted you. The loveseat was a dark blue color and it contrasted beautifully against the color of your dress. You decided to lay on it in a comfortable pose, and you couldn’t help the small giggle you let out at Jungkook’s reaction to your choice.

You had laid an arm behind your head, turning your face so you were looking at him while the rest of your body was sprawled out on the loveseat. One of your legs dangled over the side, making the skirt of your dress hike up somewhat. You were very comfortable, and Jungkook was very happy with your pose.

“Make it pretty, ok,” you joked with him. He smirked at your comment.

“You know I will. I’ll use my best colors, just for you.”

“Wow, I feel special,” you quipped back. You were rewarded with the sound of his beautiful laughter as it echoed off the walls.

“You’re the most special,” he admitted honestly. You gave him a brilliant smile and he felt his heart stutter.

With the way you were looking at him, Jungkook thought that if he didn’t start painting, he may never start. So, he forced himself to tear his eyes away from you so he could find the paints he needed to get started. He tied up his hair, a few of the blonde strands escaped and framed his face but he didn’t seem to mind it too much as he got to work.

Thankfully, since you’d chosen a good position, the process was easier than you thought it would be. You just had to lie there and watch him work, which you happily did. You enjoyed watching his face scrunch up in concentration before relaxing again as he brushed stroke after stroke onto the canvas.

You were so beyond proud of him that it made your heart swell inside your chest.

Jungkook had been painting for a little over half an hour before he announced it was time to take a break. He could paint for hours on end without stopping, but that was when he didn’t have a live subject he was working with. He walked over to you with a bottle of water so you could sip from it without having to disturb your position too much.

You sat up slightly so you could drink, and while you did so, one of your dress straps started falling down your arm. Jungkook immediately went to move it back into place, but as he did, he couldn’t help but stare at the dark contrast of the purple satin against your skin. He thought it was so pretty, and his mind started wandering to how the paint itself might look-

He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He may have been covered in paint himself, but that didn’t mean he needed to go putting paint on you.

When you were re-situated on the loveseat once more, Jungkook strolled back over to this easel. Unfortunately, since that thought of you covered in paint first took up residence inside his head, he now found it hard to focus on anything else. While he stared at you to try and resume your portrait, he just kept picturing you with painted streaks covering your skin instead.

You must have noticed he was distracted because soon you were calling over to him. “Kook? Is something wrong?”

He gulped and shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong! You’re doing great, baby.”

“Do you need me some other way?”

Such a simple statement and yet it was stirring something inside of him. Asking him if he needed you a certain way ignited that desire to once again paint you and he found himself unable to hold back from asking anymore.

“Yeah, I uh, I wanted to try something.” You were confused when he got up and started walking toward you, only carrying his paint supplies. At first you thought maybe he just wanted to get closer, but he didn’t bring the easel with him.

“What are you wanting to try,” your voice was laced with curiosity. He gave you a shy smile.

“I was just thinking about how pretty it would be,” he looked down at the floor then back up at your face before he continued, “if I used you as a canvas instead.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the request. Jungkook was asking to paint you, not paint you on a portrait, but to paint you. The suggestion intrigued you a lot more than you thought it would, which is ultimately what led to you nodding your agreement. “I think I’d like to try that, too.”

Jungkook’s face broke into such a dazzling smile that excited you to no end. You watched as he pulled his chair close to you, as well as some tarp to place around the area. When he was situated where he wanted to be, he dipped his brush into some of the purple paint on his palette and gently lifted your arm. The feeling of the paint as it brushed along your arm was foreign but not unwelcome. There was something about it that was almost calming.

You were now also recalling all the times you’d told Jungkook how pretty he looked even covered in paint. The pretty colors contrasting with his beautiful, golden skin tone never failed to take your breath away no matter how many times you saw it. You wondered briefly if this is what he was experiencing now as he took his time painting your skin.

He was focusing on your with such intensity and taking great care to only get the paint where he wanted it, so as to not stain certain parts of you or your dress. The sight of his caution made that familiar warmth bloom in your chest again.

He took his time painting beautiful designs along your arm before moving down to paint on your thighs and legs. He was alternating between purple and blue hues now, and the swirling patterns reminded you a lot of his tattoos that you adored. You had spent many nights lying next to him in bed, tracing the lines of his tattoos until you were too sleepy to keep it up. Seeing the patterns against your own skin briefly made you think about if you would ever want to get a tattoo. Before you put too much thought into it, your attention was pulled back to Jungkook who was sitting up now and admiring his work.

The time had passed by much quicker than you anticipated, and it was starting to get dark outside as the light was no longer filtering in through the windows of the room.

He seemed satisfied as he nodded and smiled. “Wait here, I’ll be right back. Stay just like this,” he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaving the room. When he returned, he had his coveted polaroid camera in his hands. Jungkook was also big into photography, and every one of his hobbies suited him perfectly in some way.

“Is it ok if I take a photo of you, baby?”

You grinned and nodded, being careful not to move too much from your current position. He snapped the photo and the polaroid was printing immediately after. When he pulled it from the camera, he laid it down on the table next to his easel so it could develop properly.

Jungkook wiped his hands off on his apron before taking it off and drawing his attention back to you. He could stare at you like this all day, but he knew it would probably be best to get you both cleaned up and paint-free.

He offered a hand for you so he could help pull you off the loveseat. When you were up fully, he wrapped his arms around you, careful to not get any of his exposed, paint-covered skin on your dress.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured softly, brushing some of your hair out of your face as his eyes scanned up and down your body to admire his creation. “And as much as I love seeing it, we should probably get this paint off soon. When it dries too much, it can be a bitch to scrub off, and I don’t want that for you.”

You chuckled at that and simply nodded your head. You’d been lying there for nearly 2 hours at this point, so you were pretty tired and ready to just relax for the night.

The two of you hopped into the shower shortly after, helping each other rid your bodies of the remnants of paint covering you both. You always loved taking showers with Jungkook, because whether or not it was a short, regular shower, or one shared after a night of intimacy, these moments were some that you cherished the most and wouldn’t change for the world.

You got lost in the feeling of Jungkook scrubbing shampoo into your hair, letting out soft noises as your eyes slipped closed.

Your noises always threatened to drive Jungkook crazy, and this time was no exception. He couldn’t deny the stirring of his cock as he listened to the little moans slipping from your mouth at such a simple action.

Of course, since he was so close to you, there was no way you didn’t feel him. His cock was hardening against your thigh, and the fact that you were turning him on by not doing much turned you on.

You could feel the wetness start to slip past your folds, but you decided to not make any moves yet, wondering how far you could take this before either of you snapped. You knew that teasing him was one of the quickest ways to get Jungkook riled up.

“Feels so good, Koo,” you shamelessly moaned out as he kept massaging the shampoo into your hair. You heard him let out a small grunt at your deliberate words, feeling him twitch against your thigh as he got harder.

You leaned your head back to give him a better view of your neck, since you knew he loved to mark you up there. His hands were starting to tangle in your hair, but he took care to not pull too hard as he brought his attention back to the task(s) at hand.

He was currently focusing on two things: 1) getting the rest of the shampoo out of your hair, and 2) not fucking you up against the shower wall. Doing the first thing was currently keeping him from acting on the second, but you certainly weren’t helping with that.

Your head lolled around on your neck, your eyes still closed as your sounds got louder. He knew you were messing with him now, so as retaliation he pulled on your hair a little tighter, making you gasp.

“You’re doing this on purpose, angel,” you could hear the dark tone of his voice over the waterfall in the shower clearly, and it just made you more aroused. You chanced opening your eyes to look at him, and the sight you were met with made you moan louder, this time without trying.

Jungkook was staring at you, mouth slightly parted as he let out pants of his own, his blonde, soaked tresses falling in his face and covering his eyes. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he tugged on your hair again, making you reach out to place your hands on his chest.

“You’re teasing me to get me worked up, hm?” All you could do was nod, his husky voice and the feeling of his hand wrapped in your hair making you wetter by the second. There was no use in playing coy any longer. You wanted him, and he wanted you.

The question now was: who would make the first move?

You realized that you wanted to be the one to make the first move, so you did.

“So, what if I am,” you asked sweetly, wrapping your hand around his length and pumping him slowly. His eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, fingers now digging into your waist.

“You know what happens when you do that,” Jungkook warned. You absolutely knew what happened, and you definitely wanted it to happen.

“Hmm, I don’t know, maybe you should enlighten me.” You teased him as you gently nibbled on his earlobe, increasing your pace as you continued to stroke him. You heard him let out a soft moan against your shoulder as he placed a kiss there.

With no more hesitation, you turned him slightly and sank down to your knees in front of him, delighted by how his cock jerked in your hold when you steadied it with your hand.

Jungkook stared at you wide-eyed as you started moving your hand around his shaft before placing a gentle kiss on his tip, the prettiest groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N, are you sure you want to do this?”

You peeked up at him as you fluttered your eyelashes, knowing that seeing you like this always aroused him beyond belief. You continued moving your hand in slow, languid strokes, and he was almost fully hard now.

He let his head hit the wall behind him, soft curses and praises for you tumbling from his mouth. 

Seeing him like this had to be near the top of the list of your favorite sights to ever witness. And right then is when you figured it’d be the perfect time to surprise him. Without a warning you opened your mouth and took all of him in that you could reach.

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate.

“Hey wait what are y- oh my God, fuck.” His loud moan echoed off the walls of the room, causing a fresh wave of arousal to pool between your thighs. You sucked harder as you hollowed out your cheeks, ignoring the way your throat constricted around him.

“Y/N, shit, you feel so good, your mouth- fuck, angel, I don’t want to hurt you,” Jungkook was panting hard above you, eyes shut and brows furrowed, jaw slack as he unabashedly continued to moan at your actions. He was reaching behind him to try and hold something, but the smooth wall had nothing to offer him. His fingers were slipping against the tile, so he gave up and instead settled for clenching and unclenching his fists.

You pulled off him with a pop, a string of saliva left in your wake. You smiled up at him as you kept stroking him, not wanting his pleasure to disappear in the slightest.

“You won’t hurt me, Koo,” you reassured him, earning another groan from the man falling apart under your touch. He twitched in your hold, and you stuck your tongue out again to run it along the underside of his length. 

Jungkook chanced looking down at you, only to look up at the ceiling a moment later while he muttered a strained “holy shit.” 

“C’mon baby, don’t you want to look at me,” you taunted him as your tongue played with the head of his cock, swirling around him. The low groans coming from above you let you know that he enjoyed that a lot.

“Fuck, angel, I-” Jungkook’s sentence died as a moan ripped itself from his throat when you surged back down to take all of him in again. This time you continued moving, feeling the tears in the corners of your eyes but not stopping.

It wasn’t like you’d never sucked him off like this before, seeing as it was one of your favorite activities, after all. But it was a rare occasion where Jungkook would let you take all of him in one go for fear of hurting you. So, you took these chances whenever they presented themselves, and the reward was always, always worth it.

Tears along with the water droplets from the shower were coating your face but you didn’t care. All of your focus was on Jungkook and how he was trying so hard to restrain himself above you. You watched his fists clench and unclench and you could feel himself struggle to keep his hips from moving forward so he didn’t fuck your mouth.

Yeah, you weren’t having that. You wanted him to let go, wanted him to know that it was ok, that you wanted this. You reached out to grab one of his hands and placed it in your hair, relishing in the way his fingers immediately tangled themselves into the wet strands. You pulled your mouth off of him again, but not before letting your tongue drag slowly across every inch of him.

You looked up at him again as you pumped him leisurely, waiting until he brought his gaze down to stare at you, only for him to quickly close his eyes again.

“God, I can’t look at you, like I want to, fuck do I want to, but you look so fucking good like this, I’m not gonna last-”

You always found his stammering to be cute and you didn’t want to torture him too much longer. Deciding that you’d teased him enough, you took all of him into your mouth again, intertwining your fingers with his unoccupied hand and giving it a squeeze. The intimacy of this particular action was always enough to get both of you going, and it had Jungkook’s hips stuttering as you sucked hard.

“Fuck, baby, always take me so good like this. Always so good for me, I love you, fuck,” he was groaning as his head hit the wall behind him again, his hold in your hair tightening the same moment you felt him buck his hips like you’d been wanting all this time.

Unfortunately, for you, whenever Jungkook would fuck your mouth, no matter how much you wanted to sit there and take it without issue, his size always proved to be too big for you to handle and it had you coughing around his length in no time. Which, of course, always made Jungkook stop what he was doing before either of you had the chance to enjoy it much.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” Jungkook pulled you up while you kept coughing, brushing the wet strands of hair out of your face and looking at you with worry. You nodded and tried to reassure him, wanting to get back on your knees for him, but he held you in place.

“You don’t want me to continue,” you asked, your voice a little more hoarse than usual thanks to what your throat had just endured.

Jungkook shook his head. “No, angel, it’s not that. If you do keep going, I’ll cum in no time.” He brushed some of the water away from under your eyes, not knowing if it was tears or from the shower. He bent down to place a rough kiss on your lips, such a contrast from how his hands caressed your face.

“I want to be inside of you when that happens,” he murmured against you, gently biting down on your bottom lip and pulling a whine from you, in turn causing more wetness to gush between your legs. “If you’ll let me, of course.”

You almost laughed. “Koo, you know I’ll let you do anything at this point.”

He chuckled. “That’s a dangerous admission, baby. You sure about that?”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Of course I’m sure. I’d let you do anything you want because I trust you. Because I love you,” it was your turn to kiss him this time, and it was filled with so much passion it nearly made him dizzy. Jungkook could never get tired of the feeling of your lips against his, of hearing you say that you loved him, of feeling your skin pressed against each other during times like these.

Jungkook was hooked on you and he never wanted to go back to a time where he wasn’t.

You pulled him out of his thoughts as you tugged on some of his hair, earning a delicious sounding grunt from him. You whispered your next snarky comment right by his ear.

“You gonna fuck me now, baby?”

Your bluntness had his cock quickly stirring back to life after it had softened some during your coughing incident. He growled low and dark as he started placing love bites on your collarbone.

“Sure you don’t want me to return the favor first, angel?” He was marking up your skin while he asked this, so you almost didn’t realize what he was asking specifically but then it dawned on you.

“As much I love seeing you with your head between my legs,” you responded, tugging on his hair again, “I’d rather have you fuck me up against this wall.”

He moaned against your collarbone, the action vibrating your skin. He pulled off of you and brought your lips to his in a filthy kiss. “Your wish is my command.”

Jungkook lifted you up then by placing his hands under your ass and you got the message, wrapping your legs around him as he held you up. He turned so your back was against the wall, the only things now holding you up being his strong arms and the smooth tile behind you.

He first plunged two fingers inside you without a warning, making you let out a silent scream. He smirked at the way you clenched around his fingers, scissoring them before pulling them out again. You whined at the loss and he shushed you with a gentle kiss on your nose.

“Had to make sure you’re ready, baby.” He had one arm wrapped around your waist, trapped in between your back and the shower wall. With his now free hand, he lined himself up with your entrance, moaning when the tip of his cock was sucked in by your velvety walls.

“Fuck, you already feel so good and I’m barely in yet,” he clenched his jaw as he sank further into you inch by inch. When he finally bottomed out and was filling you up in the best way possible, you clenched around him to tease him further, making him curse.

“Watch it, angel,” he growled. “You’re gonna make it very hard for me to not blow it if you keep doing that, and I want you there with me when I do.”

“Then I guess you’d better start moving,” you teased, wrapping your arms more tightly around his neck. You knew what was coming next; Jungkook would put you exactly in your place, just like you wanted. And for that you needed to hold on tight for dear life because that man could rock you like nothing ever had before.

Jungkook grabbed your hips firmly in his hold as he fucked up into you, making sure you were held against the wall and weren’t in danger of falling down as he did so. Despite this, each thrust had you sliding more up the wall until he would bring you back down again. When he found a pace that was he was sure he could resume without either of you getting hurt, he finally let go.

To say you saw stars would be an understatement. Jungkook was fucking you with so much vigor that you weren’t just seeing stars, you were sure you were seeing entire galaxies. Your sounds kept dying out on your tongue because the feeling was so overwhelming and it had your trembling around him in no time.

“Can’t make any sounds when I’m fucking you this good, angel?” Jungkook was taunting you now and quite frankly, he was right, he was fucking you so good that you were finding it hard to say anything. And the mixture of his dirty words with the sweet pet name you adored had you clenching even tighter around him, causing him to groan loudly and grip your waist tighter.

You eventually found your voice again when Jungkook hit a certain spot inside of you, pulling an embarrassingly loud whine from your throat. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, tears almost brimming in your eyes once again at how good he felt.

“Fuck, Jungkook, feels so good, oh my God-” your praises made him twitch inside you as he moved his hands now from your waist to hold you up by cupping your ass, squeezing tightly in time with his thrusts. He was bouncing you up and down on his cock now with his strength alone, and the thought of it made your orgasm start to approach at an alarmingly fast rate.

“I love feeling you so close like this, I love you, so fucking much, shit-” Jungkook cut himself off as threw his head back to get his hair out of his face, careful not to let his balance falter or his grip slip on you. He had to do it though because his hair was keeping him from seeing your face now that you were leaning your head back against the wall, and he couldn’t have that.

“I love you, Jungkook, I’m close, fuck,” you were breathing hard as you couldn’t control your moans any longer, eyes squeezed shut and tears falling from just how much pleasure you were receiving and also how much you loved this man. Jungkook was the man you’d loved for so many years before you were finally able to call him yours. He always took care of you in every aspect of life, and you reciprocated it as best you could. And it was because of this kind of love you two had for each other that made these intimate times all the more meaningful. You were sitting here, back up against a shower wall in the arms of the man you loved while he rearranged your guts, and it was such an emotional experience alongside being a pleasurable one that the tears actually made sense.

Jungkook bit down on your shoulder and pulled you out of your reverie, making you cry out as he muffled his own sounds against your skin. You could tell by his thrusts that he was getting close now, his grunts happening more frequently and louder, echoing off the tiled shower walls. The water had already started to get cold but neither of you cared. Nothing outside of the two of you existed in this moment, and that was exactly how you liked it.

“Touch yourself for me, baby, I’m close, want you to be there with me,” Jungkook breathed out, his grip on your ass harsher now and you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow. You loved it when he marked you up, and even though he always felt slightly bad about it, you knew Jungkook loved seeing the marks, too.

You obeyed his command and reached down to rub your clit, nearly shrieking at the new wave of pleasure that washed over you. The sensations on your clit, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you, the way he was holding you, and all the things he was saying to you was enough to finally push you over the edge.

“Jungkook, I’m cumming, fuck-” you barely had time to utter out your warning before you were cumming hard around his length, your body spasming as he held you through it.

He sped up then, chasing his own high now, the feeling of your walls clenching around him making his eyes roll back. “Fuck, I can feel you, always so perfect for me, I’m close-”

His eyes were closed now so he didn’t see you reach for him. You pulled him closer so you could kiss him, hoping to help him along this way, swallowing down every beautiful sound he was making. “C’mon Koo, cum for me, wanna feel you fill me up.”

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned out, loud and long as that was the last thing he needed to get him there. His hips stuttered a few more times before you felt him twitch and fill you up, just like you wanted. Because gravity was working against you due to your current position, you could feel some of it dripping out of you despite Jungkook still being inside of you. The feeling made you scrunch up your nose, and the action made Jungkook laugh and mumble out ‘cute’ as he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He pulled out of you carefully before moving you away from the wall so he could set you down on your feet. Your legs were a little wobbly, so he let you brace yourself against him as he helped you clean up.

The water was nearing a very uncomfortable cold temperature, but the both of you would rather endure that than leave the shower without cleaning off completely. After the workout you both had, there was nothing more you wanted than to curl up with each other in the bed.

After helping each other get clean again, and stealing quite a few kisses while doing so, Jungkook helped you out of the shower since you still didn’t trust your legs and dried you off before taking care of himself. Your heart swelled at the sight of him as it always did when he would take care of you like this.

You just hoped that you were taking care of him in all the ways he needed as well. You were certainly trying your best and would continue to do so for the rest of your life.

Once you were both snuggled into bed, him with an arm under you and you with your face nuzzling against his chest, you broke the silence first.

“If that’s what happens when I let you put paint on me, we should do that more often.”

Jungkook, who was tracing invisible patterns on your back in between your shoulder blades, laughed so hard you shook along with him. When he finally calmed down, he was able to answer you. “I totally agree. Although, I don’t think that happened because I painted you. It happened because you-” he booped you on the nose “-teased me, knowing full well what happens when you do.”

You shrugged as best you could with his arms around you. “You love it, though.”

Jungkook chuckled. “Indeed I do.” He placed a kiss on the top of your head and resumed his earlier soothing tracing of patterns on your skin. You rested your cheek against his chest and could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. The combined actions of his hands and the steady thrum of his heartbeat was enough to have slumber calling your name in a matter of minutes.

Jungkook had something more to say, however.

“Hey,” he called gently, making you look up at him with groggy eyes. He smiled at the sight. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For helping me. For being my muse. I’ve got more ideas now about what else to create, and I don’t think I could’ve gotten there without your help.”

You smiled at him before you placed your head down again and shut your eyes once more, breathing deeply. “You would’ve eventually. That’s just how you are. Maybe I sped up the process, but you would’ve done fine.”

“Perhaps,” he sighed and looked at the ceiling. His glance travelled down to look at your nearly sleeping form, laying on him calm and unbothered. Moments like these topped his list of favorite things, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.

“Goodnight, angel,” he murmured softly, not sure if you were asleep or not yet. You muttered something unintelligible back, but he knew you were telling him goodnight all the same, and it brought a smile to his face.

Jungkook wanted to tackle life with you, the good, the bad, all of it; he wanted to do it with you by his side. He wanted to make sure every day of your life from here on out was filled with happiness and love and everything you deserved in the world, just as you wanted to do the same for him. He knew you’d do anything for him, and he’d do anything for you.

Only for you.

[awindylife-writes]

His Death

Relationship: 10th Doctor x reader

Summary: you get kidnapped and the Doctor gets shot. You both think the other is dead, but things work out very well. (Not an established relationship)

Warnings: mentions of your and his death but not graphic

Genre: hurt and comfort

You struggled. You bit and scratched and kicked and screamed, anything to get those mercyless hands off of you. The Doctor was running towards you, screaming your name in desparation with his coat billowing around him.

When you looked at him, everything in you froze. There was someone behind the Doctor, and they were holding what was unmistakeably a gun. Alien, big and shining silver, but a gun nonetheless. You opened your mouth to scream, to warn him, but there was a flash of light and the time was up.

The Doctor fell. This wouldn't mean anything if he got up, but he didn't. You could see he wasn't breathing, even though they were dragging you away from him. He laid limp where he'd fallen, and then you caught a sight of his eyes.

His eyes were open, and they were empty. The sound that tore out of you wasn't human.

~

You didn't know how long you had screamed. You didn't know when you had stopped. There had been slaps after that, and hits, but you didn't feel the pain. You didn't feel anything.

They hooked you up to the machine and some part of you knew it hurt, knew it wasn't right. But that part was far away, drowned in the great white nothingness that had consumed everything when he fell.

There was no point to anything now.

~

Maybe you would have woken up on your own eventually, or maybe you wouldn't have. The point is you didn't have to find out.

~

There was shouting, and sparks and terror, but you didn't hear any of it.

Then there was a face, a beloved face swimming in your vision, and the world came back into focus.

"Y/N!!! Y/N!!! Answer me!!!" The Doctor's terrified brown eyes were staring into yours. His hand was on your cheek. Warm.

"You're alive," you breathed, and the dam burst.

"You're-alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-you're-alive-" You surged around his neck and his arms immediately clutched you back.

"I'm here. I'm here. I've got you," his pained voice joined your chanting. "I've got you..."

When you ran out of breath, you noticed you were shaking, and crying and holding onto him for dear life. Then you noticed he was too.

"I thought I'd lost you," he confessed into your shoulder in that moment of silence. He sounded so broken and you hated it. He was still shaking in your arms. You both had tears on your shoulders and you were holding each other with the same desparation coursing through your veins.

After who knows how long, you finally smelled smoke in the air. You didn't want to let go, but it was time.

"Let's get out of here," you murmured to the Doctor. He begrudgingly let you go, immediately taking hold of your hand. That was when you looked around the room for the first time, and-

"What happened?"  you gasped in disbelief.

The corner you were standing in was like an island in a sea of wreckage.

The computer wall was on fire but one part was still managing to throw sparks. The large table in the middle had been broken in three parts and its legs were nowhere to be found. There was so much burnt paper, shards of glass and parts of machinery littering the floor you wondered how you would get to either of the doors. The medical-technical thing you had been tied into was turned on its side with its innards spilling out. You finally noticed the shouts down one of the halls.

You turned to the Doctor, eyebrows raised in question, but before you asked, he simply repeated, "I thought I'd lost you." His voice was quiet but tight with pain. When he finally met your eyes, you saw the terror hadn't left his, but you were glad to find relief in there too. You squeezed his hand.

He continued in harder tone, "And the people who helped me had lost a lot too."

You nodded, "Alright." You wouldn't ask about the violence it took him to get there, and most of you didn't care. They had hurt him. They had tried to kill him. His empty gaze flashed before your eyes and your whole body flinched at the memory.

"Y/N?!!" There was terror in his voice as he franctically looked you over for injuries again.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," you reassured him while your hands found his shoulders. You made sure to catch his gaze as you asserted, "I'm okay."

When tension left his frame, your palms settled on his chest, right above his hearts. Your eyes followed them. You took in a shaky breath. "I just remembered how you looked-" Damn it you were NOT going to cry again.

"I'm here. I'm alright." He gently tilted your chin with one hand while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Now it was his gaze searching yours. "I'm alright."

There was so much care in his deep brown eyes as he offered you a small smile, your heart ached at the sight. You just breathed deeply and nodded, then slipped your hand back into his. "Which way?"

You just had to suck it up until you were both back in the TARDIS. There would be enough time to have breakdowns later.

He got the message, and off you went.

~

The TARDIS hummed when he unlocked the door and let you in first. You held hands until it was time for the Doctor to start the dematerialization process.

As soon as you were in the Vortex, he turned to you with fear still in his eyes. With open arms, he softly asked, "Can I?"

You wrapped yourself around him and he clung to you just as desperately. You thought neither of you planned on letting go, you would just stand there and breathe until the stars blinked out of existence. That sounded like a good idea.

~

(If either of you noticed you kept touching more than ever, you sure as hell didn't bring it up. Considering you both had thought the other was dead, it wasn't that surprising. You were too shaken to stay apart, needing the comfort of each other's presence more than ever.)

(And friends did this, right? Friends who had just seen their friend die? It wasn't like it meant anything more?)

(You knew you two had entered into an emotionally uncharted territory a long time ago. That was at the same time both beyond dangerous and calming - there could be so many missteps and each one could hurt or break you, but this thing here that you'd built with him felt so good, so unimaginably good you wouldn't have parted with it for anything.)

Eventually you did break apart. You felt like you could have fallen sleep standing up, but the thought of wearing the smelly clothes on your back any longer disagreed with you. The Doctor let you go, but did not look happy about it. You took hold of his hand, not wanting to lose the comfort either.

"Fifteen minutes," you began. He raised his eyebrewos in confusion and you went on. "Fifteen minutes to shower and change, then we meet in my room to have a sleepover. Sound good?"

He looked relieved. "Yes. Very," he nodded gratefully and you smiled.

"Good. Let's go."

~

(You didn't want to ask how he'd survived; you hadn't even thought to. You didn't need or want to know, you just clung to the fact that he had.)

You almost fell asleep in the shower, but the thought of the Doctor, alone, was enough to make you move. Finally comfortable in your pajamas you stepped out of your bathroom.

He was sitting on your bed, looking a bit lost. The scene was so domestic it struck you as odd, and it came with that little sting of knowing he didn't love you like you loved him. But that was the least of today's pains and you let it go. He's alive.

He turned around at the sound of the door opening and found your eyes. Now the softness in the sight of him wrapped around you like a blanket and you never wanted it to end. You smiled and walked to the bed.

"Come on," you said to the Doctor as you pulled the covers back. The lights turned off and you welcomed the darkness.

You were reaching for each other before you even laid down. He ended up with his head on your chest, his arms hugging your middle. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair with the other hand around his shoulders. You were grateful for the Doctor's warmth, the weight of him, the feel of his breath on your skin. You clung to these reminders.

You thought he was listening to your heartbeat in the same way.

"You weren't there when I came to," he said into the dark, his voice distant and quiet, as if he would awaken a monster if he spoke any louder. "The last thing I remembered was you screaming as they dragged you away. You screaming for me." It turned harsh as he tried to keep emotion at bay.

"And I wasn't there. I didn't do anything and you were gone." His raw pain and self-loathing came like blood out of a wound and you pulled him even closer. You tried to reassure him but he continued before you could speak. "I knew what they wanted from you. And I knew I was out of time." Despair was loud and final now, that had been the end of him. You felt hot tears seep into your shirt.

"I was out of time, but l was alive. I couldn't even die properly." Amused bitterness seeped into his voice and your hand fisted the cloth on his shoulder.

"No," you shook your head into his hair. "Please no. Never that," you told him, willing him to understand.

The Doctor took a shuddering breath and went on, almost a whisper. "That's how the others found me. But they needed help, they were desparate and a part of me could go on on that. So I did. Just went where they wanted me to and opened doors."

"And there you were," you felt the Doctor smile into your shirt as disbelieving joy filled his voice. "There you were, hooked up to the energy compressor but breathing." He seemed to have trouble doing that now.

"You're alive," and oh, the light in his voice could outshine stars.

"Yes," you answered with a smile. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I've got you," your words echoed his.

He sighed. Tension slowly leeked out of his body as the fact that danger had passed sank in. The Doctor relaxed against you, every inch of you touching. He nuzzled his cheek into your shirt and the silence that followed was welcome.

You didn't know how much time had passed when he spoke again. "You're prescious," he said softly and you forgot how to breathe. "You are so, so prescious to me and I don't-" his words ran out. The Doctor was an eloquent speaker, so you were astonished that an emotion for you had made him speechless.

"I can't lose you." His admission was raw, as if imprinted on the fabric of the universe, a fact. The dark echoed with it.

"You won't," you said and your voice was final. "You wont." You had made a decision and the universe would bloody listen. You would make it listen.

You held him to you tighter, as if you could keep the two of you together just by doing that. "Doctor, since I've started travelling with you, l've seen lives, worlds, destinies turn and change on one person's words, on one being's choice," you whispered to him. "And this is it. You keep me and l keep you and that is final."

You could feel him smile into your shirt, and you were glad your words had managed to calm him.

"Yeah?" he breathed and you grinned in turn.

"Yeah."

He giggled, actually giggled, nuzzling his cheek  your shirt. The sound made your heart dance.

He sighed in content and together, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

[yandere-sins]

Charred

Horrortober Day 7: Shock “You look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

Ah yes. Angels. Complicated beings, I love them. Randomizer sure gave me an interesting combination for this day, but I am not complaining :D Also, if you are one of the people leaving a comment on my posts, please just know you are everything. I love you ♥ Even if they are in the tags, I am so happy to read your thoughts and feelings, it really helps so much to stay positive and motivated! ;;

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Corrupted Angel, Mild violent outburst Characters: Simeon x Reader

Angels aren't human.

How could you have forgotten?

Running through this godforsaken hallway, you were constantly blinded by lights. Little remnants of Simeon's power, one you didn't know he had. "I should have known better," you thought as you shielded your eyes from another flash caused by an orb to your left. If only the holy magic Simeon was able to use wasn't that harmful to your vision. If only he wouldn't use it on you. If only you never let it come this far.

But how could you have known? You thought you two were friends and like-minded people when you got closer to Simeon as you two attended RAD as exchange students. You weren't that kind of sinner; you never gave yourself hope there could be anything beyond friendship. And you weren't looking for it either. But to dismiss his exalted status as well, that one was on you. Of course he could use magic that was dangerous to you, especially with how little Simeon could understand human emotions.

Sure, he could crack a smile at a joke, show sadness, and give comfort, but he only did what he learned to do, feigning his sympathy. He didn't mean to hurt anyone with it, but it just wasn't in him to feel as humans do, or else it was threatening to defile them. Angels aren't human, they couldn't feel emotions like you did, and when they did, well, this is what happened.

Simeon was a mess. He was beside himself, trying to figure out what was wrenching his body. Ironically, it had been Lucifer who warned you about this. He kept himself brief when talking about angels and corruption, not wanting to open his own wounds. But he still made a point to tell you that it was overwhelming and maddening to have lived for centuries and only then regaining an emotional conscience. It war pain. Suffering. A change that would take months and years to overcome.

And it was all the scarier how quiet it made Simeon.

He didn't tell you what was happening, and you didn't notice it, busy with your duties and the brothers. You should have seen it! You blamed yourself for not being more careful as his friend, but it was already too late. When he started to demand more of your time and attention, glaring at the others for taking up his space by your side, it should have rung some alarm bells. It was almost painfully obvious that him getting more touchy when you were together and antsy when you pulled away was a warning of what was to come. Maybe you chose to ignore it. Perhaps you thought your friendship could survive him being irrational and angry, snapping at you and others at times.

But by the time Simeon became what he wasn't supposed to be, he had already kidnapped you somewhere strange and magical, just as twisted and scary as he was now. It was like an endless dark, ancient castle. Rooms with high ceilings and tall windows looking into the nothingness around the building. The insides were decorated, but the colors everywhere were constantly shifting, nauseatingly so. Sometimes white, sometimes grey. Gold accents, then copper. The temperature was hot when you were awake and cold when you slept. You knew it was magical and tied to Simeon, but that made it all the more uncomfortable and scary. You didn't want to experience this. You never asked for it! Part of you knew what was going on, and it made the realization worse.

There had been moments of clarity in his eyes when you pleaded with him to get a grip, but they fogged over with emotions an angel shouldn't have. When you tried to reason with him, he got jealous over the argument that others would come looking at you. "You're mine!" he screamed, and then his eyes cleared as he regretted his words, leaving you alone abruptly before you could say another word. He was ashamed and scared, you had seen it in his expression, but he still came back as if nothing happened.

On the surface, he was still the Simeon you knew. The one you loved. But he was so quickly offended and angered by now that you only grew more worried every day. Suddenly he started locking your room or would sit and watch you sleep, and you were scared of this angel that wasn't an angel anymore.

So… you ran.

At the first opportunity, you ran. The hallway seemed endless, and you didn't know where you were going. Flashes went off every few steps, and you ran into a few amenities blindly. Even if it was pure madness and wouldn't help either of you, you couldn't do this. The longer you stayed, the worse Simeon got. You needed to find help for him—and for you. That was the only way. The others would know what to do! They could do something for Simeon that you weren't able to, give him stability and support him in these hard times. You were just a human and didn't know if Simeon could remain an angel after all that happened, but if he could, that's what you wished for him from the bottom of your heart. You never intended any of this to happen, and secretly, you didn't want to be the reason for it.

"AH!" with a loud shriek, you were caught by a slice of light right in front of you. It was like a slit opening up, but even brighter than the orbs that had exploded before that. You could recognize magic when you saw it by now. Simeon's magic. Flashy, dazzling, unbefitting of the tumult he was going through. Simeon was far stronger than you expected him to be, but you realized now that you took his calm and sweet demeanor for weakness, when really, it was mercy.

Tumbling backwards, you landed on your side, your arm throbbing as you slowly tried to get up again. It should have shocked you more to see the person slowly stepping out of the light, but you could barely see anyway, only recognizing the voice as he spoke up. "My, you look like a deer caught in the headlights."

Finally, the light shining at you terrifyingly bright vanished, leaving only you two behind in the warped hallway. It took you a few blinks to recover from it, tiny sparks flying through your vision when you looked up at Simeon. Other than the dark corridor, Simeon was wearing his pristine, white clothes. Pure and amiable. Nothing like the inner tumult he was battling, and still, he looked nothing like the Simeon you knew. The kind Simeon. The one you loved.

You feared he was already gone.

Around you, the colors of the castle shifted to nightmarish black while accents turned into a deep red, all while you and Simeon never broke eye contact. He was walking towards you, hand on his chest and smiling in greeting. You once loved his reassuring smiles, the encouraging message they delivered. But this one was menacing and cold, as was his voice when he spoke up again.

"Where are you going?" he asked curtly, right to the point. Biting your lip, you only looked away. You wanted to argue, but good could come out of that? When you cracked your room's lock, you thought it would take him longer to find out. Long enough for you to form a plan, but it only now crossed your minds that the lights you encountered could have been like security cameras for Simeon to check in the case you ever did break out.

"There is no leaving this place, my dove. You know this. Why are you testing me."

"Why are you keeping me here?" you asked the same question he ignored so many times. Though this time, he indeed had something to say to it.

"It's dangerous out there. Demons will get to you, blemish your skin with their marks and rob you of your life. Aren't you worried at all?"

"I'd like to see for myself what I can do out there," you retorted firmly. "I think you're losing it, Simeon. You are nothing like you were when we were students."

Confronting him may not have been the best idea as his once so kind eyes turned moody, smile turning into a frown as you mentioned the past. "No, I am better. I can protect you now. I take care of you. You owe me more respect if you think I've gone mad. The only thing making me mad is you!"

Gulping, you looked at him. He was prideful now too. It was painful for you.

Simeon was slipping further and further. Every passing second was destroying him.

"Simeon, please," you whispered, pleading with him from the bottom of your heart. "I want to help you! B-But I don't know how! I need help to help you, I need to get out!"

"You're not going anywhere," he decided, cutting his hand through the air in a gesture signaling finality to his word. Kneeling down before you, he pulled you roughly into his chest, pressing your head against him. If there was any good that came out of the change, perhaps it was how open he was now to touches. You longed for this, for something longer than just a hug when you two met. But your heart was throbbing out of devastation now, rather than jumping from joy.

"Please get help," you pleaded, gripping his clothes. "I won't leave you, but please ask the brothers or Lord Diavolo for help, Simeon!"

"Never say their names again," he hissed at you, an unfamiliar hostility in his voice that brought you to tears. But Simeon held you as you cried into his chest. His comfort wasn't helpful, but what else did you have to cling to? If not for him, you would be alone and abandoned in this realm, and you had to painfully admit that he was indeed taking care of you. Good care. In his own, twisted way.

While you were still crying, Simeon carried you back to your room, laid you in your bed, and tugged you in. He did so with a frown deeply lodged on his beautiful face, the wrinkles so unfitting for an angel. But a small hope remained inside of you that you crying would make him see reason. Instead, he sat by your bedside as you two stared at each other, eventually muttering that he was going to get you some food before leaning down and kissing your forehead. You hated this affection. Actually, you hated that it was under these circumstances.

When Simeon got up, he left you without another look back over his shoulders, and you sniffled, the tears never drying out as you looked after him. So cold, so… lonely. He was in pain too, he must have been. If only there was a way to reverse it. To make him see reason and to calm his aching. You wished you could have helped him, at least a little bit. As a human, was there nothing you could do? Maybe just take some of the sins he was living through! As normal as they were for you, they were killing him from the inside.

The intense light from before flashed up as he opened the door to your room, blinding and stinging in your eyes. Still, you were already crying, and it was hard to avoid your gaze from Simeon even now. It was the first time you noticed his wings, usually concealed by magic, but as he used them, they came into plain view. You had believed until the last second that maybe there was a way to help him. To save him from this. But you were a little wiser as you looked at the feathers sprouting from his back. His beautiful, large wings. 

Charred-black.

[dakarimainink]

Babybump

WARNING: Fluff, a hint of angst, cute

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x You (Reader)

Wordcount: 1.4K

Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own.

"Hey, I love you writing and I was wondering if you can do a Pedro imagine where the reader is pregnant and like they didn’t announce it or anything and no one knew about it till they were seen in public. You can change it up if you want! Xx✨"

Okay, I am a slut, not even gonna try and hide it. As this was a request, I wasn't sure if you wanted smut or not, so that's why it is in two parts. Part one is pure fluff and no smut. Part two however is a smutty scene for those of you who wants to read about how they conceived the baby.

Enjoy! 💛

Part 2

Masterlist

You are nervous. It is obvious by the way you cling to Pedro in the backseat on your way to the gala. Your fingers intertwined into his big hand as you fiddle with the hem of his suit jacket.

He is nervous too, not because people will probably speculate, but he worries about you. The news is big, but neither of you like it when the media tries to poke into your private life before you are both ready to reveal it. It will come out eventually, but you want it to be from you and not rumours and pictures roaming about.

Your family and closest friends know. You chose to break the news three weeks ago. You remember the tears in your mother’s eyes and the warmest hug from Pedro’s father. But what truly stuck with you, was the moment you confirmed it to Pedro.

You knew for about five days without telling anyone. Pedro was away filming but had managed to squeeze in a night with you on a rainy Saturday. You had planned to go out for dinner, but in the last minute, chose to have a pizza and movie night. Cleaning the dishes from the pizza and preparing some snacks in the kitchen, you decide it was time.

You turned to him, biting your lower lip and he knew there was something immediately. At first, worry painted his face and he had walked over to you and wrapped you in his arms, kissing your forehead softly and asking what was wrong.

Tears were prickling in your eyes and as you looked up at him, more worry grew and you couldn’t help but feel happiness fill your chest, knowing this man was the father to your child.

A smile stretched across your face as tears escaped the corners of your eyes and you told him.

He was frozen, scanning your face and he went through all kinds of emotions before his eyes crinkled up into a bright beam. He pulled you in, holding you tight to him while murmuring all kinds of sweet words. Kneeling, he snuck his hand under your t-shirt and spread his hand across your belly, warmth filling you up. “Our baby.” He had whispered before looking up at you with tear-filled eyes.

You had made sweet and passionate love that night, his focus on purely satisfying you over and over and over again.

Pedro catches your chin and tilts it up to meet your eyes. He notices the worry in your eyes and gives you a gentle smile. Carefully sliding his hand further up, he graces your cheek with his thumb before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You look perfect.” He smiles.

You smile back at him, feeling a lump of worry surge in your belly. You know you could leave whenever you want to, Pedro had even offered to not go at all. A part of you wants everyone to know, but another wants to keep it a secret for as long as you can.

The car stops and your heart skips a beat as our stomach feels with dread. Your fingers grasp onto his hand, you almost missed the worried look on his face, his eyes scanning your features.

“We don’t have to, my love.” He whispers, gently stroking the back of your hand.

You shake your head. “I know, but I can’t avoid it forever.” You gulp, staring into his eyes. They crinkle at the gentle smile. He leans forward gently peck your lips, leaving a lingering touch on you.

As you give him a nod, he opens the door and gracefully climbs out before holding out his hand to assist you out. You place your hand in his and plant your feet on the ground before he pulls you gently out.

As soon as you were both outside, flashes and yells from the paparazzi filled your ears. Trusting Pedro to lead the way, he guides you onto the carpet and pulls you close to him, his hand resting on your side as you both face the paparazzi. From all the comments, none of them mention the tiny bump on your belly.

You sigh out in relief and feel more confident in your posture, straightening your back.

Pedro immediately notices and glances down at you with nothing but love in his eyes. His fingers twitch into your flesh before his thumb strokes up and down, bringing you more comfort.

~~~~~

You lay peacefully in Pedro’s arms, the morning sun peeking in between the curtains and a stripe of warmth licks your leg as it rests over Pedro’s hip. You listen to each other’s slow and steady breathing.

He had apologised for waking you up when he pulled you to him that morning, but you didn’t mind at all. It is where you belong, close to him. He left a few soft kisses on your forehead while you lay there resting, enjoying the calm morning. But the calm is interrupted as both of your phones won’t stop buzzing.

Pedro sighs, knowing exactly what all the texts are about. He had peeked at his phone before pulling you in, several messages commenting on today’s news. He had hoped it wouldn’t turn into something, but here you both lay, you – wondering what it all is about, him – wanting to shield you from the storm.

“Pedro?” You breathe, your eyes looking up at him from behind your eyelashes. “What is going on?” You have a feeling this is about last night’s appearance, but you wait for him to confirm it.

He looks down at you, a calm smile painting his lips. “Nothing we have to care about for now, my love.” He presses his lips to your forehead and nuzzles you closer to him.

You sigh out and drift off in his protective arms, knowing whatever is going on right now, didn’t need your attention.

~~~~~

He looks handsome, his calmness and confidence match great with his casual outfit. His hair slightly tussled from dragging his fingers through it again and again. You like his natural curls mixed with his grey peppered beard.

His eyes are resting on the woman sitting in front of him, but every time he glances at you, it fills you with butterflies. It’s not too obvious he is looking at you, as you’re standing a few strides behind the woman, listening to the ongoing interview of his newest movie.

“So, for some other big news, which I hope you can confirm for us, Pedro. A month ago, the internet went crazy over some new photos and headlines of you and your fiancé. Speculations of a potential new family member surged through several social medias. Could you perhaps talk a bit about that? Is it true?”

You knew the question would be asked, Pedro’s agent had agreed upon it before the interview took place. Pedro had asked you several times, if you wanted to go out with the news. You were a bit hesitant at first, but then again, might as well get it over with.

He gives the woman a smile before his eyes immediately seeks out yours, nothing but love is filled within his gaze. “It is with great pride and joy I can confirm my beautiful fiancé is carrying our future child. She is doing an amazing job and I can’t wait to become a father and see her be the mother of our baby.”

Your heart beats faster, tears brimming in your eyes as he speaks warmly of your future family. You know he is looking forward to it, but to see him like this, confirming the news and not leaving your sight, makes you warm from head to toe. You want to rush over to him, hold him close to you, but knowing interrupting the interview is not a good idea.

You wait patiently until the woman thanks Pedro for the interview. He immediately gets up from his chair and walks up to you, wrapping his arms around you. He kisses the top of your head several times and you wrap your arms around him.

“I will forever mean it, my love. I can’t wait to see you be the mother of our child, to carry them, to feed them, to help them grow up. I know you’ll be the best at it and every obstacle we face, we will face them together.”

You pull him tighter to you, a tear escaping the corner of your eye. “I love you.” You mumble into his chest.

He buries his nose in your hair. “I love you too.” He whispers.

(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)

@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @xoxo-callie, @mamacitapascal, @thewaythisis, @greeneyedblondie44, @stevie75, @mswarriorbabe80, @anaaaispunk