#that they’d LOVE to know more about it but it’s just too hard :((( impossible for them to learn more no matter what :((((((

[chewwytwee]

The perception that classical music is somehow more arcane and esoteric than any other kind of music is 90% of the reason people are so totally uninterested in it. Most people seem to have just decided that there’s no way they’ll ever understand or enjoy classical music, so the second it comes up they turn their brain off and refuse to even try to engage with the material because it’s ‘boring and too hard’. It’s the same shit with math, or physics, or any other ‘difficult’ subject that people arbitrarily hate cuz it’s ‘RelAtAbLe’ to not understand it.

You literally might as well talk to a brick wall because people are obstinate that 1: they’re incapable of learning difficult things and 2: even if they could learn a difficult thing it wouldn’t be worth their time and effort because the subject matter isn’t cool enough to justify spending time on

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love Part 2

It’s hard to listen to Eddie talk about this guy the same way Steve wished he did about him. Eddie, already so full of life and words, doesn’t seem to need to take a breather between his praises.

“Can’t believe this guy is actually into me, did you see him? Oh my god!” He groans and smacks his palms against the steering wheel, literally bouncing in his seat.

The van swerves a bit to the left.

“He’s just my type, too. Those eyes, prettiest eyes that have ever graced human existence, and they were looking at me. Me! Wow! The darkest green— I don’t think there’s any precious stone that can compare actually.”

He beams at him and Steve’s traitorous heart still flutters like a wounded bird helplessly flapping its broken wing. Eddie is smiling so hard his cheeks must hurt, eyes crinkled at the corners and teeth on full display.

Steve will close his eyes at night and replay these words, pretending that this excitement and instant adoration is about him. That Eddie’s love-struck smile is for him.

“And, to top it off, he’s a geek. A fucking nerd. He actually knows DnD! What are the chances, Stevie? I’m no religious man, but an angel must have heard mine desperate pleas.”

His name is Adiel, Eddie’s perfect guy.

Steve spends that night feeling the need to cry, the hurt is right there at the base of his throat refusing to spill.

Steve kind of wishes he did, maybe letting everything out would leave him feeling empty instead impossibly full of heartache.

Adiel is blond, a dirty blonde that means he must’ve had light locks as a kid. Face slim and cheek bones prominent, but his features are soften by button nose. Maybe Eddie is right, he looks like the angels depicted in stained church windows, but whereas angels are depicted in white, Adiel wore exclusively black.

He wasn’t decorated in rings and chains like Ed, only a few silver piercings in his ears and a couple on his lips. But it was evident they had much in common, even just by looks. More than Steve could ever say about him and Eddie.

Over the next couple of weeks they share their music, intrinsically understanding what it means to one another.

Getting it.

Getting it the way that Steve never could, even with hours of Eddie breaking it down for him. Maybe Steve never understood, but he loved those moments shared between them. Wonders if Adiel cherishes those moments too. If he takes it for granted.

They share everything with each other and Steve hears every little detail gushed between sickly sweet sighs. He’s trying to be a good friend, to listen and share Eddie’s happiness, but something inside him grows bitter. Angry. He hates feeling this way.

“I met his friends already, they’re a really cool bunch. I really think you guys would get along. They know all the best spots for people like us. There’s a whole world out there, Stevie—“

Stevie. His breath stutters.

“Of people like us with places for us. We could take Robin and Vicky and be surrounded by people that won’t, that won’t think we’re… wrong. And who knows,” he nudges Steve’s side with a suggestive smile, “maybe you’ll meet the one there, huh Stevie?”

“Stop. Just, just stop!”

Steve doesn’t mean to yell. He just can’t take it anymore. Everything that has been building up inside him has reached a point where he just can’t. He pushes Eddie away from him who looks startled. Offended and bothered and confused.

“I don’t want to meet his friends, or least of all him. I don’t get it, okay! I thought—“

What did he think? That one day he would confess to Eddie or vice versa? That they’d kiss and go on double dates with Robin and Vicky? That he would fall asleep each night in love and loved? It seemed plausible at some point. That’s what hurts the most.

“Hey, Stevie—“

“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

“What? Your name? You don’t want me to call you by your name?”

A bitter laugh, “yeah. My name from your mouth.”

“I, You’re not making any sense!”

Steve knows. He knows. But Stevie, Big boy, Ozzy… even his own name, can’t bear to hear them. Not from him. Can’t bare the way his heart squeezes.

Eddie’s looking at Steve with furrowed brows and down turned lips, standing still. Has Eddie ever been still before in his life?

Once. When he was still and pale and red. His chest gone quiet for the most terrifying seconds of Steve’s life.

Steve looks at him, his eyes burn. Steve’s breath from his own chest brought Eddie back to them. Eddie’s lungs still carry his desperation. His ribs healed but the cracks must still be there from the palm of his hands. He’s tasted Eddie’s blood before from his mouth—

He’s kissing him. Steve, dumb stupid in-love Steve, has his lips on Eddie’s once more, but this time they’re warm and full of life and his ringed hands are on him and,

They’re pushing him. Away.

“Eddie,” his sight is blurry, eyes hot, and breath stuttered. “I, it hurts. You with him. I can’t—I just can’t.

And Eddie looks, terrified, dark eyes searching Steve’s face. For what, he does not know. Sincerity, maybe. Truth. Maybe looking to see if he’s really shattered inside.

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t…I don’t…”

And Steve?

Steve smiles. It’s watery and his lips quiver.

“I know.” And that’s the problem, isn’t it. It’s always the problem. “I know, Eddie. I’m sorry. It’s, it’s okay.”

Eddie leaves Steve there in the living room.

There’s still two cans of Coke half full on the coffee table but only one person left in the room.

Part one < 💛 > Part 3

Tagged: @bananahoneycomb @margaglitterdeath

[irndad]

hii dollface, would u write smtg abt hotch being jealous?

like he's trying to hide it from making the team notices when he saw some officer flirting with r?

no pressure in writing, lovey. change it however u want or ignore it if u dont feel like writing it (i completely understands u 🤍)

my love this has lived in my brain so relentlessly <3 i hope you love it!!!! thank you for requesting!! wc: 1.7k

It is incredibly easy to like her.

She’s charismatic in a way that’s almost universally appealing, and he’s memorized the shape of her wide grin. She smiles with her whole face, and Aaron hasn’t really spent too much time trying to make people smile. He’s had success in some ways, but when she smiles at him there’s something in his chest that burns in achingly lovely way. 

At first, he had assumed her kindness was a way to win him over. In her first week, she had noticed there was a rip in his tie (which he’s not sure how could even happen) and she’d whipped out a pocket sewing kit, repairing it. 

He tries not to think about the fact that she’s beautiful. She is, though, in spirit and in appearance. He’s an expert in controlled presentation, but to some extent she must know that’s he’s fond of her. 

When they’d first met (which he can still picture in his minds’ eye- her oversized sweater tucked into her tailored pants, the purple lipstick adorning her beautiful smile) he’d tried to keep his distance. It’s easy to romanticize her, and being her friend felt a little impossible when seeing her as more felt so inevitable.

This plan did not go well, and Aaron had officially tossed it when one day, the babysitter for Jack fell through when he was halfway around the world. She’d picked him up from school and tended to him, and Aaron had come home to a blanket fort on his kitchen floor, and a happy little boy who wanted her to come over every day. 

So it's a little hard to ignore how much he adores her. 

She doesn’t normally want to come out to the scene and they usually don’t require it, but they’re going out to a place she spent most of her twenties, and she knew people in the local PD, so Aaron had asked her to come. 

She’d done so without complaint, although he knows she doesn’t sleep well on the jet. No one knows where the nicer pillows and blankets came from, and Aaron would prefer it that way. 

Anyway. 

The bullpen of this department is chaotic and a certain caretaking is living at the edge of Aaron’s consciousness, a protective desire to keep her from the loudness and violence that she’s typically protected from. 

He’s still thinking this, when he hears her voice over the chaotic hum of the department. 

“Oh my god, Logan!”

Her voice is joyful, and when Aaron turns to see who she’s looking at, it’s an agent. He can tell that he’s not a police officer for many reasons- the fact that he’s got a long, shaggy haircut and a 5 o clock shadow and a leather jacket on his shoulders. The local police would be too strict, and he must be some kind of different authority to be allowed to be here.

He hears the stranger call her name back, and they hug. 

It’s a quick thing, but imbued with deep fondness. Aaron’s not sure he’s ever hugged her for more than a second- just a congratulations when his commendation came in. She’d smelled like roses. 

Now, she’s hugging Logan. 

“Hotch,” she says, a smile still in her voice, “This is Logan! We went to graduate school together. He’s brilliant, I can’t believe he’s down here.”

Her voice is seeped in admiration, and Aaron feels an ugly amount of what can only be described as jealousy. 

“Great to meet you. You’re the unit chief, yeah?”

“SSA Aaron Hotchner,” he offers the man a curt nod, “Have you met the team?”

He goes through the motions of introducing him to the team- he greets Reid with a warm smile and tells him that he’s read his papers. Logan compliments Emily’s shirt, and Morgan’s watch. 

He’s incredibly charismatic.

Is Aaron charismatic? He doesn’t think so. His team, who probably adore him as much as anyone could, still note that he can be harsh, prickly. He never smiles, he knows. He lacks expressiveness. Logan is all fluid movement and easy conversation, and when he takes the jacket off, Aaron sees a great deal of tattoos on his forearm, his sweater sleeves slid up. 

He’d smile for her. 

What should be a good thing, but hurts- Logan is an excellent consultant profiler. He’s thoughtful and helpful and she has an easy rapport with him. Aaron- he’s so bad at talking to women. 

She makes Aaron feel like he’s good at it though. When they drive together, the conversation is easy and feels nice. It’s like sunbathing, basking in the light of her attention and intention. 

With the help of the man that Aaron has decided he hates, the case is finished up quickly. 

He can’t shake the thought they’ve probably dated. It’s not his business- this crush, although this word feels inadequate for the intensity of the way she makes him feel. It’s a private thing he’s never going to act on- he’s older and her superior, and besides- 9 stab wounds and a lifetime worth of issues is a million times less appealing than someone like Logan. Young, exuberant probably not too afraid to ask for what he wants.

“Drink tonight?” Logan asks the team, and a chorus of yes’s and please’s echo through the emptying bullpen. 

“Raincheck,” she says to Logan, “I’ll see you next time I’m in town, yeah?” She beams at him, hugging him in a quick-but-too-long-for-Aaron’s-taste motion, and the string in Aaron’s chest that feels like it’s been pulled all week threatens to pull him under.

After everyone files out, she offers to help him fill out paperwork in his office. It’s just like her, so kind and sweet. Spending her free time filling out reports to make his workload go easier.

About a half hour of amenable silence passes, before Aaron chooses to speak.

“So, you and Logan.”

“He’s great, right?”

Regrettably, Aaron agrees.

“He seems very kind.”

“Yeah, he and his fiancee are really fun. They travel all over, kite-board and do tons of adventure stuff, he’s pretty awesome.”

A moment passes.

It’s like a balloon losing air, the feeling of relief taking the place of panic.

“I thought you two were romantically involved.” He doesn’t know how to verbalize things casually. If he lets it up, he might do something dangerous like tell her that he wants to be someone who romances her, wants to be the person who kisses her after dates and holds an umbrella over her head when she’s caught in the rain. He wants to be what she comes homes to, and it’s a confession living in the back of his throat, threatening to escape at every moment. 

She sucks in a harsh breath, and he wonders if it’s a misstep to have told her- it’s not a confession, really. It sounds like one though- why would he care? What makes it his business?

“Not that that’s relevant to me,” he stammers, “You’re free to engage with whoever you’d like-“

“I know, Hotch.” She doesn’t grace him with his first name, but her voice is fond and warm, her doe eyes meeting his. He likes it, he decides. 

“I’m not seeing him,” she continues, her body shifting to face him, “I think he’s a little…casual for me.”

He thinks of Logan’s leather jacket and unshaven face, rugged appearance and compares it to how he presents himself- clean cut and sharp lines, his suits tailed to fit him like a glove. 

“You prefer something a little more…dignified?” He hears himself say with more confidence then he feels- her implication is clear, but he wonders if he’s mishearing it. 

She tips her head back and he hears her lovely laugh ring through the air like something sacred, and he waits to hear her response. 

“I don’t know, I just know that I’ve been liking this guy for a while,” she muses, looking down at her fingernails, “But he hasn’t seemed to pick up on any of my hints.”

On one of his braver days, he’d told her that he liked that purple lipstick. He hasn’t seen her without it since. She’d always been so kind to everyone that it was hard to notice when her treatment towards him was special, but he thinks it might be. How quick she offers to help with Jack- gives away a Saturday evening to spend with him, even though she sees too much of his face at work.

Her friend from grad school offered to get drinks, and she’s here, telling him what she looks for in a guy.

He tries to be logical about the whole thing, but it’s a bit hard- she’s funny and warm and Aaron loves being around her- loves her company enough to maybe ask for more of it. 

“If this ‘guy’ did like you,” he murmurs, intentionally not meeting her gaze, the precision of which is boring a hole into the side of his head, “How would he go about that?”

He’s not sure what the point of being coy is now, but he can’t seem to stop. He does look down to her and meet her eyes. 

“I think I’d probably corner him,” she says breathlessly. They’re quite close together, now. He wonders if she likes his aftershave. She tugs a hundred through her hair, a nervous but incredibly attractive gesture, “Y’know, if everyone we worked with went to get drinks, and it was just us. If he was amenable to that.”

“If he was amenable to that.”

A rush of emotion licks up his spine- it’s fun, flirting with her. The creep of warmth on her cheek, how her fingers are brushing hers. 

“I think he might be.”

Purple lipstick, rose perfume mixing with the scent of expensive aftershave- he thinks he might be able to kiss her, now. He’s never been good at knowing when to take the jump, but this is something he can do. He can let her know that he wants it. 

She reads him well enough, it turns out, and she kisses him. It’s a surprise and he is so rusty at this and yet- his hand stand on the small of her back, pulling her in and he can feel her lovely smile against him. She’s warm and joyful and she’d kissed him, and all he could do was lean in-

“I think he might be too.” She says, significantly less color on her lips, and more on his, he imagines.

She doesn’t have to wonder, though. When Aaron kisses her again, he decides- he will make her incredibly certain of his affections. 

[rsatoru]

bbzzzz bzzzzzztttt...

your phone has been buzzing over the coffee table for two minutes. two minutes and 14 seconds.

sigh

you rise from the table—the very table overflowing with godforsaken paperwork the godforsaken higher-ups have assigned you to finish. you’re trying to focus and get everything finished as soon as possible, but the obnoxiously person trying to call you on the phone wouldn’t let you right now.

͏͏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀toruru !! ^_^ (ate ur cookies) (do not answer.)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ringing . . . ✆ ⠀⠀⠀ 1:27 pm⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀answer ၊ decline

of course, it’s no other than your idiot of a boyfriend

clicking the answer button, cause who are you to resist him anyways? . . . “satoru.” you say unimpressed. “baby!! :D” the cheerful voice on the other side exclaims.

“aren’t you supposed to be on a mission right now?”

“uhuh,” satoru scoffs, “’m on the same mission you forced me to go because you hate me so much!”

“satoru, sigh it’s your job, your responsibility. you can’t just ditch an order from principle yaga because you wanna stay at home cuddling me.” you respond

“can’t a man just have some quality time with his dearest girlfriend in peace?” satoru whines over the phone

“toru, baby,”

“fine.. :(” oh, you were so sure you could almost hear his smile turn into a frown. that being said, “why’d you call?” asking, looking back over at your unfinished paperwork, oh the higher ups might just beat your ass.

dating satoru means also having to deal with his long phone calls. you’re aware you could easily just hang up on him, but unfortunately for you, sometimes you don’t even realize you got too caught up in the moment. you love him too much, too much you can effortlessly handle his obnoxiously long phone calls—and he doesn’t even talk about anything important or necessary! and you think, maybe, you’re just as down bad as he is for you.

“oh yeah! heh, sorry babe, your voice made my mind go blank.” — “you’ll never guess what kind of technique these so called first grade cursed spirits have!” and he asks you to turn your camera on—in which you did-

revealing a bunch of cats spawning and jumping everywhere “look at the kind of domain expansion this guy has!” satoru was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. satoru called you to show he was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. because he knew.

“oh my gosh.” you say in shock. staring at whatever is happening in your screen. “toru toru! bring me one! maybe that one or or-” the cats were so cute. you absolutely loved cats. you adored them, each and every one you’ve ever seen. whether they were strays on the street or pampered pets, they were all just so adorable.

because he knew you absolutely loved cats.

these cats though, were aggressive. aggressively cute though—trying so hard to scratch your boyfriend which was impossible, all attacks were effortlessly blocked by his infinity.

“uhhh, uhhh.. no can do sweets. just look at these sly pussies trying to scratch my glorious face! i can’t let them do that to your even-more-glorious face. they’re dangerous! can’t let them hurt my baby.” he responses.

“uhm, no. you’re just rambling satoru. they’d love me.” you retort. satoru was more of a dog person—he doesn’t know such shit about cats. he doesn’t like them. but you teach him anyways; how to properly hold them, what kind food you shouldn’t feed them, etc etc,

and he actually listens.

“no baby! anyways, you know that guy over there? yeah, him. he can create pizza with cursed energy and throw it at me! it’s surprisingly strong to be fair.. but y’know they stand no chance against me.” there goes his ego as always.

“anyways—what kind of pizza do you want? tell me which toppings and i gotchu baby.”

“so you’re telling me, you’d rather get me pizza, imbued with cursed energy, which you say is pretty strong, but not cats?” you hiss, raising a brow over the phone.

“uhhhh... yeah? ( ' ⩊ '𖦹)”

this is so dumb tbh but i jst had pizza for dinner i couldn’t not think about my glorious king

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Someone You Loved

I'm a mess since I finished Xavier's myth and my period came early so now I'm just sad and can't focus on anything else. Headcanons for the men when MC breaks up with them. Warnings: None, but lots of angst because everything SUCKS. Love and Deepspace. Hmph. More like Love and Deep Depression.

In the darkness, Zayne wakes suddenly, his hands instinctively reaching out to pull you to him; only for his grasp to curl into cold sheets and emptiness.

How long had it been? Since he’d slept peacefully? The nightmares never seemed to plague him when you were asleep beside him in his bed, your breath softly ghosting the crook of his neck. He glances up at the ceiling trying to calm his breath. The little dreamcatcher you’d hung so long ago sways slightly and his heart clenches. The bed felt too big for just him. Before meeting you he slept in the middle; now he can’t bring himself to take back your half, leaving it empty, remembering the way your curled form occupied it.

The only time he saw you was when you came in for your checkup. And you seemed fine, which was good, but a part of him is haunted by the possibility that maybe something about him had made you leave him. You had insisted it wasn’t but he can’t help but run scenarios over and over in mind, swirling like a mess of ink in water.

Perhaps his reticent nature had finally driven you away. Or his sarcasm. Or maybe the scars on his hands. Women didn’t like scarred men, did they? He’d wondered about that for too long before Greyson, catching him staring at his hands, said, “Your hands are healing Dr. Zayne. Why do you look at them so doubtfully?”

After those words had been spoken, Zayne had thrown himself into his work. He’d always been a workaholic of course, but it had amplified to a point where he couldn’t go home. It was on purpose. He slept in his office until his superior had caught him, insisting he can’t sleep here.

No one was checking in on him. No one to remind him to take a break or to coax him into taking a nap in between patients. No one waking him up with a smile and a slice of cake that they’d picked up on their way to his place.

The nightmares started after he tried sleeping at home. He hates himself for feeling like a little boy, unable to sleep without a security blanket. But he needed you. The way all living things needed air and sunlight to thrive, he needed you in such a poignant way that it almost stops his blood knowing you’re not in his life anymore.

He knows he needs to sleep. Silently, because that’s what he’d grown accustomed to, silently rolling out to bed so as to not disturb you, he pads over to his closet and pulls out a t-shirt, far too small to be one of his own.

The t-shirt had somehow survived the purge, the day you’d taken all your stuff out of his apartment. It was strange to look at his apartment now because all he sees are the empty spaces you left behind. The spots on the windowsill where your little planters used to be. The blank space on the nightstand on your side of the bed where your phone, earbuds, and hand lotion used to once sit. The cup in the bathroom now holds only one toothbrush.

He brings the t-shirt to his nose and instantly your scent fills his being. He’s thankful he didn’t return it to you as he’d initially planned. The piece of fabric that retained the wonderful smell of your shampoo and the fresh scent of your skin. It calmed him. Cradling it against his cheek, he makes his way back to the bed, laying the t-shirt on his pillow and burying his nose into it as he tries to find a comfortable position.

The t-shirt works its magic, eventually lulling him into a dreamless sleep. The only peace he’s ever known was when he was with you.

It was hard to avoid Xavier no matter where you went. His being your upstairs neighbor and your mission partner made it impossible not to see him. His chest ached whenever he saw you but he masked it with a smile. He never stopped looking out for you. Because he had promised, hadn’t he? So many centuries ago, in a different lifetime, that he’d always be there for you no matter what?

The day of the breakup is always a blur to him. He can’t recall any of the details, but he remembers your face with clarity, remembers the pained expression in your eyes. He had soothingly embraced you, encouraging you to talk to him about what was bothering you, because even his deepest worries never fathomed the idea of you leaving him.

Xavier had frozen when you had tearfully whispered that you wanted to break up. Surely he had misheard you? But no, he hadn’t. You had tried, in vain, to get him to explain where he disappeared to. It bothered you when Xavier disappeared and it didn’t matter if he came back each time. You told him you wanted the truth, and nothing less than that would convince you to stay. Xavier had faltered; he knew he owed it to you, but he didn’t know where to begin.

Philos was a distant dream, probably lost to time and deepspace but he couldn’t help it. The possibility of returning to his own timeline weighed down on him, a heavy burden of duty. If it had been just him, he would have gladly given up months ago, content to stay here with you. But the crew that had accompanied him, dedicated to his cause, stuck here because of his decisions deserved the chance, and he couldn’t give up on them.

Knowing he would never be able to explain without hurting you, he had given you a sad smile, his blue eyes growing misty as he tried to put conviction into his words. “I hope you find someone more worthy.” The feeling of your hands leaving his felt like a rift had divided his heart into two, a chasm separating you both. You left his apartment, and he spent the night on his balcony, listening to your sobs carrying through the air, not knowing how he could take away your pain. 

With much trial and error, Xavier now had a cordial relationship with you. He accompanied you whenever you asked. He still hung out with you at the arcade and came out for hot pot whenever you asked. Because hadn’t he promised to love you even when you weren’t his?

Xavier watches you talking to Tara and when you finally catch his eye, you give him a smile and wave, which he returns. Although he wishes you weren’t broken up, it always brings him relief to see you smiling. He had felt the satisfaction of watching you become a happier person, seeing you grow and eventually finding joy around you. And that would have to be enough. 

He would settle for having you in his life any way he could, even if you decided you didn’t love him. Because after losing you twice, he’d take anything to cut his losses. 

Thomas follows Rafayel around his studio. He can see the state Rafayel is in, the dark bags under his eyes, and the unkempt hair and clothes.

“Rafayel, I think some rest-”

“I don’t need it.” Rafayel picks up a paintbrush, which is already messy from the various hues it was dipped into previously and begins to put strokes onto his canvas. Across the room are scattered paintings and unfinished sculptures, all half-done and looking rather gloomy. 

Thomas tries again. “I can book you a weekend at your favorite onsen. Perhaps a massage. It’ll help clear your head.”

Rafayel glares at him, anger in his lavender eyes. “I said I don’t need it. I have work to do. You know where the door is.”

Signing, Thomas takes his dismissal and the studio is plunged into silence. Rafayel tries again to finish his painting then grits his teeth and hurls the paintbrush away. Droplets of paint drip across the marble floor as it clatters some feet away.

It had been a while since you had broken up with him and Rafayel feels like he’s stuck in time. All his works are incomplete, becoming a neverending list of things that he might never actually pay attention to again.  

Of late, he’s obsessed with trying to paint you, but each time he recalls your face, something or the other feels off. The shape of your eyes, too slanted to be accurate, the curve of your nose, too round to be correct, haunt him as he gazes at the canvas before him. It was you, yet it wasn’t you. 

There’s panic growing in his chest at the idea that he might be forgetting what you look like. His hands and memory seem to be at odds with each other, unable to communicate and translate what he was remembering onto paper. 

He traces the edge of your face, the paint smearing his fingertips, frustration welling up in his heart. He feels disappointed in himself. Hadn’t he said to himself that even if you forgot, he’d remember for the both of you? Yet now, he can’t recall the features of your face, like the image of you in his head was behind a pixelated curtain, and all he could recollect were rough features that somewhat resembled you.

He might put himself into a manic state. He hasn’t slept, haunted by the possibility that he may never paint your portrait accurately again. Rafayel pulls out his phone, the light illuminating his tired face and he desperately looks through his photos. A few days after the breakup, in a fit of rage, he’d deleted all your photos off his phone, an action he now regretted.

“Please…please…there’s gotta be at least one…” he prays as he swipes through the pictures. As he’s about to give up, he finally comes across a single photo, a group picture, taken from his art exhibition some time ago. And there you are, all your features coming back to him with painful clarity. With a sigh, he picks up a fresh paintbrush and tries again, feeling relief flood him as your familiar face finally begins to bloom onto the canvas. 

Luke and Kieran looked in concern at the closed door of Sylus’s room. Sylus wasn't the type to conduct business remotely. Even with all the henchmen at his disposal, he still preferred going out into the N109 zone to ensure his armories and money accounts were secure. But after the breakup, he had been delegating more and mingling with his associates less. 

The missing bottles of whiskey hadn’t gone unnoticed by their keen eyes, and the twins carefully crack open his bedroom door a fraction. He’s slumped over the large desk made of fine oak wood, a liquor bottle cracked open, and a glass in his hand. 

His ruby eyes are hazy and it’s clear he’s intoxicated. The little grumpy crow plushie was sitting on his desk, and his unfocused eyes were gazing in reminiscence at it while Mephisto glared at the soft toy in objection. 

“Boss?” Luke dares to approach him, and Sylus looks up sharply. 

“What?” The irritation in his voice is evident. 

“Um…Your meeting with the protocore dealer. He just left a message saying he hasn’t been able to get in touch with you and…” His voice falters as Sylus’s eyes glow like embers in a fireplace.

“He can wait.” The words are snarled as he downs the whiskey in a single gulp before pouring more. “Get out.”

Luke and Kieran retreat but they glance at each other despairingly. This was the N109 zone after all. Dealings with mafia leaders didn’t just get put on hold without consequences.

“Damn it all,” Sylus murmurs. He swirls the whiskey in his glass, and all he sees are your eyes, fixated on him in horror. He was used to the erratic atmospheric changes in the N109 zone but the night you left, it felt like he was being choked by the air, not a drop of oxygen left for him to breathe in. He knew he’d overdone it when threatening the merchant, knew he should have controlled himself from using his evol as cruelly as he had. But he needed the upper hand and the only way knew how to assert himself was through violence.  

He’d never hurt you. His precious little dove, his whole heart. But what you’d witnessed had left you terrified of him and his ominous abilities. Sylus had begged; his pride wasn’t so great as to risk losing you. He’d fallen to his knees, his arms locked around your waist, his cheek resting on your chest, listening to the way your heart was beating in your ribcage. It was hard to say how long the two of you had remained that way until you had gently disengaged from his grip, bid him goodbye, and left. He wasn’t deterred at first, calling and texting you desperately, sending gifts and bouquets to your door until you had called him and told him to stop. 

He drinks, feeling the heat and the sting of the whiskey as it goes down his throat, the only thing that helped with the pain. You were the sunlight in this dark world and without you, Sylus feels nothing except coldness. You were gone, the only blessing he’d ever received.

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

[aealzx]

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Update Post

Prologue | AO3

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Despite not being comatose anymore, Danny’s health still wasn’t the greatest. After getting introductions for who everyone was they had started to explain to him what had happened. Only for him to fall asleep again before they got very far. After being assured by Bruce and Leslie that it was normal for those who had been in a coma to not be able to stay awake very long in the beginning, the others had found ways to entertain themselves while letting him rest more. When he woke up again hours later they let him orient himself again before trying to pick up where they’d left off. They had to repeat the same sequence again two more times before they got through the entire two months worth of events.

The hardest part of catching Danny up on everything had been admitting they didn’t know what had happened to Maddie and Jack. During the third time of being awake Danny had asked where they were, being confused why they hadn’t shown up to see him yet despite everything. And when Jazz had finally admitted it was because they weren’t there, and they didn’t even know if they were okay, Danny had panicked slightly. If he’d been in better health Jazz knew she wouldn’t have been able to stop him from running out into the city to try and find them himself. Yet at this point he couldn’t even push himself upright without help, and changing forms or even floating seemed impossible. Which had left him collapsed in Jazz’s lap, sobbing, “You don’t get it, Jazz! None of this matters at ALL if the people I care about aren’t alive! That includes mom and dad! None of this matters if they’re not okay too!”

Jazz knew that Danny really only fought to keep certain people happy. He’d protect everyone, sure. But the reason he kept going, the only real motivation he had for throwing himself in harm's way all the time, was to protect his friends and family. He did a lot of crazy heroic things, but he didn’t want to be some big time famous hero like she had learned Batman and Superman were. It was hard to not be able to tell him that he hadn’t failed. Only Sam, Tucker, and Danielle had been able to get him to calm down by reminding him how resilient Jack and Maddie were. Despite all the fights they got in, it was very rare that those two got hurt. So odds were they were still just fine after this disaster too. It had been enough to calm him down at least enough to stop crying, and allow himself to rest more. But his words still rang in Jazz’s head the next day.

Throughout the days Leslie was present more, checking Danny’s vitals, drawing a little more blood for another panel, bringing him room temperature water to sip in the afternoon. She strangely didn’t try to get Danny to eat anything until the next day. When Jazz asked about it Leslie had explained that while Danny definitely needed to eat again, there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to handle it just yet. While the cryo stasis had helped him not deteriorate as much as anyone else would have over a two month coma, he still had. He was underweight, malnourished, and easily fatigued. And that included his digestive system. She tried to help by giving Danny another vitamin IV with a slightly different formula. But even with that the first time she’d let him try eating two plain crackers he’d ended up throwing up less than an hour later.

That was when Bruce happened to come check on them. With the biggest hurdles for now having been taken care of, most of his kids had gone back to their own homes, as they usually did. It was hard to keep them around for more than a few days, and while there was still the task of getting these displaced kids back home they all knew that could wait until Danny was feeling better. Especially after learning through bits and pieces of information that there was a government team back there that would just love to hunt him down the first chance they got. So with Duke and Damian currently at school that left the house rather empty, and Bruce found himself taking charge of checking on their visitors. He had learned a lot about them in the past two days. The kids were obviously used to helping patch Danny back up, without the help of any adults. But they still relied on Danny being okay to feel secure. Danny was the one that protected them. Danny was the one they relied on being okay to judge whether or not everything else was okay. When Danny was cracking jokes the others were at ease. But when Danny couldn’t force himself to reassure them, there was a harsh spike in their anxiety. And usually Jazz was the one that took charge, trying to keep them all calm and reassured.

It was an unfair, but understandable situation that didn’t allow for Danny to truly rest. And that was what motivated Bruce to enter the room and approach the kids this time, stopping by the connected bathroom to grab a soft towel first. Jazz was once again the only one sitting on the bed while the other three hovered nearby, waiting to be directed. Her hands were on Danny’s back and arm as he was curled over the bucket Leslie had made sure was left just in case, coughing and half heaving despite there being nothing left in his stomach. Bruce couldn’t imagine how much stress it must be to have an audience, so decided the first thing he’d do would be to get the others to disperse. When he raised his hand to Tucker’s shoulder he couldn’t blame Tucker for jumping in startle.

“D’dude! You scared me,” Tucker protested shakily.

“He’ll be alright,” Bruce chose to assure instead of apologizing for inevitably sneaking up on the kids. “Can you three go work with Alfred to find a change of clothes and bedding?”

The three almost jumped on being given something to do, a series of affirmatives before they scurried from the room. Bruce sent Alfred a text to request he keep the three of them occupied for a while then knelt down next to the bed and offered the towel to Danny. It seemed his stomach had decided to stop throwing a fit for now, and as Danny took the towel and buried his face in it Bruce relocated the bucket to the nightstand. He didn’t need to wipe his entire face, but from that angle Bruce hadn’t missed the tears, and realized Danny was hiding.

“Jazz, can you join the others?” Bruce requested on Danny’s behalf. “And find Leslie to help waterproof his injuries so he can have a bath?” Not only would that give Danny some time away from the others, but he actually really needed one too. A fact Bruce realized when he’d reached up to help pull Danny’s hair out of his face. He’d probably feel a little better after getting fully cleaned up for once too.

Jazz seemed reluctant to leave, but at least seemed to know when her presence was a detriment more than comfort. She knew her brother well, and after leaning down to give Danny a peck on the head and whisper a quick ‘I love you’ she headed out the door.

“...Am I even allowed to have a bath?” Danny’s question came after he was sure Jazz was gone, raising his head and looking and sounding as miserable and pathetic as he probably felt.

“Of course you are,” Bruce assured, using his thumb to brush away another tear that escaped when Danny blinked. “We’ll just have to waterproof your injuries and IV site. But then you should be fine to take one for as long as you want.”

“...Really?”

“Yes.”

The idea of getting some time to himself was welcomed, but after realizing what he was thinking Danny’s expression crumpled again, and Bruce had to raise a little to catch him as we swayed. He was a little surprised when Danny actually curled into him then, his form shaking.

“Sorry,” Danny whimpered, and Bruce couldn’t keep himself from gathering the boy up in a tight hug. “...I’m not okay.”

That sounded like it had been incredibly hard to say, and Bruce had to wonder if it was something someone had been working on with him. He’d heard from Jason that it was relatively recent that Danny’s parents even knew what he was, let alone what he’d been going through. Perhaps one of them had been the one to talk him into letting them know when he wasn’t doing well.

“...I know,” Bruce responded quietly as he moved to sit on the bed and pull Danny into a ball. Everyone knew Danny wasn’t doing well physically. But Bruce knew he wasn’t just talking about that part of his health this time. “You’re going to be okay though.”

It felt good to be held by someone he didn’t have to protect. Someone that he didn’t have to pretend he knew what he was doing for. Act like he was just fine and nothing fazed him. It had been something he had just started getting after his parents got involved with all aspects of his life, and he hadn’t realized how much he would miss it until they weren’t there to give him that comfort. Jazz had a habit of calling out the fact that he was just a kid, but she was too, and couldn’t quite give him what he needed. But Bruce was an adult. And someone who seemed to have also lived through similar injuries. Hearing him say he’d be alright felt like a stated fact instead of just a confident reassurance.

It didn’t take long for Leslie to arrive and expertly shoo Jazz away again to help Alfred with the others. She wasn’t surprised at all to hear that Danny had thrown up, and instead just assured him he was going to be okay, and to think of it like having the stomach flu. The comparison did wonders in helping Danny calm down more, to the point he was only sniffling quietly as she took care of dressing his wounds in a waterproof covering.

“Don’t scrub too hard on the edges of the bandages when you’re washing up, okay?” Leslie directed while rubbing the said edges of the last bandage she was placing around his arm to encase the temporarily detached IV. She’d taken some time to clean the sites that would be covered so Danny would be able to feel completely clean after his bath, and was pleased to see he was healing a lot faster now that he wasn’t in some sort of stasis mode. She wouldn’t be surprised if his wounds were completely healed by the end of next week at this rate.

Danny gave a small hum in acknowledgement, understanding that he couldn’t break the seal if the bandages were going to work properly. The desire for an actual bath was strong enough that he was willing to comply with their conditions, even if it meant he had to have Bruce in the bathroom with him, just in case. It made sense considering he couldn’t go to the toilet on his own just yet, but at least Bruce had promised to stay facing towards the door as long as he could. He also had his phone with him to work on his own projects, so wouldn’t even try to get Danny to talk to him.

It was exhausting, but Danny also didn’t realize just how much it would feel good to be clean. To not have his scalp itch, and skin feel like a layer of grime was coating it. And also just to lounge in the warm water, in the silence and almost complete isolation. He was there for a little over an hour - dang fancy rich people's tubs and their ability to keep the water just right - before it became uncomfortably apparent he wasn’t just imagining the aching starting to get worse. Which led him to reluctantly using his foot to nudge the plug out to allow the water to drain and reaching out to knock his hand against Bruce’s shoulder.

“Done already?” Bruce asked easily, glancing over his shoulder halfway.

“Morphine is wearing off,” Danny admitted with a grimace, resting against the side of the tub.

“Ah,” Bruce nodded in unfortunate complete understanding, turning his phone screen off and tucking it into his pocket while grabbing the towel and soft robe to hand to Danny. “Let me know if you need help.”

Danny hummed once again to acknowledge what was said, but stubbornly took care of at least getting the bathrobe on himself on his own once the water had drained. Unfortunately he had to ask for help to get out of the tub, still too weak to lift himself up or stand. But Bruce didn’t react differently towards this than if Danny had simply asked for help opening a jar or something. It was nice.

Alfred had already brought a pair of soft pajama pants and fluffy socks when he’d returned to change the bedding as well. And once Danny was dressed Bruce had carried him back to the edge of the bed where Leslie could double check that the bandages had worked, get the IV reattached and another dose of morphine going. He found he was so worn out from the simple task, but also found that once the morphine did its job taking away the aches and pain he did feel a lot better than before. Enough that Duke pausing in the doorway while returning home from school didn’t make him feel too wary.

“Oh- First post injury bath?” Duke asked, pointing a finger at Danny as he noticed the bathrobe on the bed and Danny’s still damp hair. When Bruce nodded, Duke grinned. “Nice! Those always feel amazing somehow. You should take him to the couch next.”

“The couch?” Danny couldn’t help asking. Was it just the family room couch or something different?

“In the study. It’s quiet in there, and being stuck in bed sucks,” Duke explained. “I bet he was actually already planning on taking you there. After living here I came to find out Bruce is actually really good at helping people feel better. Even though he’s not perfect, no one is, he still makes a nice dad-”

“Duke,” Bruce interrupted, a slight scowl hiding his embarrassment. “Make sure you have enough time to finish your homework before patrol.”

Other people may have been put off by the glower, but Duke just laughed. “Sure sure. I’ll meet you in the study?”

It took Danny a moment to realize Duke was talking to him, and couldn’t keep his shoulders from drooping. He didn’t really want to entertain people yet, he was already feeling physically drained on top of emotionally.

Surprisingly Duke picked up on the mood easily. “I’ll keep quiet. Promise. But trust me when I say it’s really nice,” he offered, easily picking up Danny’s anti-social vibes.

“...Sure. We can try,” Danny accepted, figuring he could at least attempt the idea since Duke didn’t seem to want to spend the time talking.

It was just a few more minutes for Leslie to finish giving him another routine checkup and add an anti nausea patch behind his ear before allowing Bruce to pick him up again. Danny inevitably felt tiny as Bruce was able to carry him with just one arm, leaving the other free to bring the IV pole with them. But he found he didn’t mind. It had only been two days of him being awake in that bedroom, but Danny found getting to leave the room was nice. The study was quite a ways down the hall, and when they reached it Alfred was already there.

“I’ve provided the usual snacks for Master Duke and Master Damian. There’s also a thermos of warm broth that Dr. Thompkins has approved for Master Danny to try if he’s up for it. I will continue to keep the rest of the children occupied until supper,” Alfred informed, bringing their attention to the mentioned food on the low table in front of the very plush couch.

“Thank you Alfred,” Bruce responded simply, heading further in the room to get settled.

There was a fire crackling gently in the fireplace, keeping the room pleasantly warm despite the autumn chill outside. There was already a slight frost on the windows, but the glass was the only thing that reflected that cold. All the colors of the room were warm, and the faux fur blanket Bruce grabbed to help bundle Danny up in only increased the cozy feeling the room had. It was quiet, as Duke had said, and comfortable. Even when Duke and Damian joined them to work on their homework they rarely spoke. And when they did it was in low voices, and to each other about their homework or school day.

Danny had accepted being brought there with the thought that he’d have to end up asking to go back to the bedroom later. But after having spent some time quietly looking around the room his gaze had settled on watching the fire. And slowly the crackle of the wood, soft scratch of pens and pencils, rustling of paper and quiet taps of technology muddled into a soft haze. Eventually Danny’s eyes drooped closed as the soft sounds and comforting warmth became a lullaby coaxing him to sleep. 

Duke was right. The couch was pretty nice.

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This entire chapter was unplanned X'DD but I ain't complaining.

Bruce was as hard to draw as Dick was 8 | my art style is too cute coded for these rugged american comic characters.

Also I am extremely distracted translating a manga that not available in english just so I can know the story |D updates might be a little slower.

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@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, 

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

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@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics, @ehobep, @paranoid-ira

[pigeonpeach]

Mother and Father moments.

Aka more mommy reader x Arlecchino! This time with comfort!

Perhaps you sometimes forget your husband is a harbinger. She’s just so kind to the chikdren at times. Your presence has helped her become more patient and gentle with them. You had been with her for awhile now. Lynette and Lyney had grown up into full on adults, going on missions leaving you to worry. But they came back each time. As your original set of kids grew so did the dangers. You knew they were raised for this yet your heart still hurts at the thought. Unfortunately some didn’t make it. Some may think its hard to care for so many children emotionally but it didn’t matter to you, you felt hurt when they were. Each and every one of them you raised and cared for became your child in their eyes. Lucky your husband despite not being the most emotional vulnerable still let you cry over each. Her gentle whispers reassuring that it was not your fault.

She knows your heart, she knows its that empathy and vulnerability that strengthens your bond with the children, sometimes she envies that. But she still tries to make up for it to the best she can.

So when The twins and Freminet were imprisoned you became worrisome. She with held that it was for a mission because she knew you would demand to join them. Still she held you.

“Could I send tea bags to Lynette? Letters? Oh god poor Freminet he always loves diving! He can’t dive anywhere!” You paced as you were planning a gift to be sent. She watched you with a smile.

“I assure you they will be fine. They’re barely serving a few months for a petty crime that likely won’t end up on their record. They have each other afterall. You know Lyney, he will not let any of them get hurt.” She said calmly,

“Still he’s my boy and I worry about him!” You say panicked.

“And the prophecy! Oh god they’re so far down underwater they wouldn’t have a way out!” You paced even more as her smile faded.

“My love,” she held you in her arms making you still, “I assure you, everything will be okay. They’ll be back when their sentence is over, and they’ll have all sorts of stories to tell. Freminet can handle himself, and Lyney is a good protector of the two. They will be fine. As for the prophecy, I have my own methods ready.” She said kissing the back of your neck. You sighed as you finally calmed down.

“You’re right. I need to relax..” you say melting into her touch. “I just… oh I can’t help it. Lyney was the first to call me mom.” Arlecchino smiled as you looked at one of the baby pictures of the twins.

“You’re always their mother. With you waiting here I’m sure they’ll strive to make it back.” She says calmly.

“They better.” You huff. “That Wriothesley better be kind to my kids otherwise-“

“Relax dear. Don’t think anymore about the impossible. Besides, I’m sure they’ll be treated as any other prisoner is. Afterall, Fontaine is currently under alot of pressure, I’m sure he wouldn’t be confident enough to pull a stunt like that.” She says. “And if he did, then I’ll handle it.” You sigh in relief as she holds you closer to herself.

“You’re right I know I know.”

“If you would like you can send them a letter. Of course you can’t send any gifts but you’re more than welcome to wri-“ Arlecchino stopped as she watched you pick up a pen and looked for a piece of paper. “Here.” She handed you a piece. Quickly you started to write down your thoughts as she smiled behind you. “You should slow down. They might not be able to read your writing otherwise.”

“You’re sure i can’t send gifts? Not even a blanket? Oh Lynette hates being cold! That place must be so cold too, so far down under the sea.. oh my poor baby.” You moped.

“I’m certain there’s accomdations for such. I doubt they’d let their staff down their freeze. Besides I hear it can actually get too hot down there.”

“But what about Freminet then! He isn’t good handling intense heat. He burnt his hand on the kettle once and he’s never trusted them since. He always uses a oven mitt or glove even when its not necessary.” Your fingers tapped worriedly.

“Darling please try to not assume the worst. Our children are not hostages right now. They simply are being disciplined for a small amount of time. Their sentences are only two or so months.” She repeated trying to soothe you. You pouted even more.

“Still I’ll miss them. I even bought a new dessert book to try and make some for Lynette. She always comes by to visit when I even imply there’s new desserts. She’s become my little taste tester.” You smile. “She doesn’t smile but her tail wags impatiently when she sees me preparing a new sweet.”

“You know them so well.” She smiles and brushes your hair, helping to alleviate some tension held within your shoulders. “I’m sure they miss you too. You know they wouldn’t want you to worry so much about them.”

“I’m aware. Still I love them all so much.. it hurts that I cannot protect them all from everything in life.” You lift your head to look at her as her arm rests on your waist.

“I know my dear. Its why you’re the finest choice for me.” She kisses you. “Now just relax and I’ll write the letter for you.”

[abbyromanoff]

Hi 👋🏻 could u write gpWanda x reader x gpNatasha where Wanda is r gf and she doesn't know how to fuck reader properly so she ask Nat for help and N fuck r while W is watching?

I'm sorry if there are mistakes, english isn't my first language

ACQUAINTED

PAIRINGS: Wanda x reader, Wanda x Nat, Nat x reader

WORD COUNT: 3,697

WARNINGS: therapist/patient relationship, perv!Nat, nat and Wanda have dicks, subby!Wanda, Miss (N), threesome, exhibition, voyerisum, degrading, praising, breeding, therapist!Natasha, pet names, smut (obvi), pining, cunnilingus, dry-humping (kinda), bottom!R, top!Nat, Nat treating R like an object,

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Wanda sat on the couch with Natasha in front of her, sitting at her desk with a notebook in hand. The walls were painted a soothing gray, only adorning a few pieces of artwork. She had been seeing Ms. Romanoff for close to a year now after you suggested the idea of therapy, already having one of your own.

“I don’t know, it’s just hard I guess. I mean, I love them so much and I see myself having a future with them, but-” She paused, rubbing the back of her neck and adjusting her potion. Nat hummed, waiting for a response but speaking up when receiving none.

“But, what?”

“I- I want to- well, we don’t really-” She didn’t know why she was so nervous all of the sudden, she had been able to tell Nat almost everything but this seemed to be different.

“Trust me, I’ve most likely heard much worse here, whatever you say is confidential and free of judgment. Just take your time.” Wanda sighed and nodded, trying to figure out the words in her mind before speaking.

“I guess I just want to spice things up, you know? And don’t get me wrong, the sex is great but- but they were the first person I’ve ever done it with. I’m just scared they’re not satisfied and it worries me to think that I’m nowhere near as good as their past boyfriends or girlfriends.” She shrugged as if it wasn’t anything serious, but it was to her. She was a giving person, all she wanted was for you to be happy and well-pleasured, she wanted to impress you. But there was nothing to show off with, she had no skills in that aspect, that’s what she thought at least.

“Okay, that’s understandable.” Nat started. “Have you ever tried, say, having a conversation with them about this? I know you’re not great with communication but maybe just asking them what are some of the things they like or maybe even expressing your worries, I’m sure they’d listen.” She knew you would, but the idea of bringing such a thing up felt uncomfortable. She didn’t hate the thought of sex, but she hated the thought of talking about it. It felt like watching a sex scene on the television with your parents right next to you.

“I know they’d listen, I just don’t know how to, like, bring it up.” Wanda watched as Natasha moved her pen gently against the piece of paper, writing something down that she wished she could see.

“Alright, well, what if you invited them to a session, possibly our next one? We can bring up our discussion and your worries and maybe it could help ease them.” She spoke with such gentleness that it always made Wanda even more nervous. You had picked up on the way she’d always come home with a blush and a small smile after her appointments, but you just assumed she was happy to see you. And she was, but that wasn’t the full reason for her expressions.

“So it would be like couple’s therapy?”

“Yes, pretty much. I’ll have you two both share your sides and your feelings and we go from there.” Wanda could do that, she hoped so.

The one hour ended in what seemed like a few minutes as Nat said her goodbye’s to the woman, watching her leave as her eyes trailed down to her ass. The jeans fit her ass perfectly, it was impossible to stop the biting of her lip and the long sigh.

Truth be told, she had been planning this moment for too long. She remembered when she first ever saw you, Wanda showed her the picture she kept in her wallet of the two of you holding hands that were pointed to the camera with your lips attached in a sweet kiss. Before, she had been slightly upset when finding out that her client had a partner, even with the knowledge that it would ruin her career if she did anything. But then there was you, she didn’t expect you to be so beautiful.

The moment her last client left she went searching through your accounts, using your name to find anything on you. She was embarrassed to say she had stroked herself to multiple orgasms while scrolling through both you and your girlfriend’s photos. She was beyond ecstatic about next week’s visit, she could only hope you’d agree to go.

Luckily, you did. It took a little bit of convincing, when Wanda brought the idea up to you, you were frightened that you did something to upset her, but she quickly rushed that thought out of your mind. She didn’t tell you what exactly it was for, although you assumed it would be nice. You knew Natasha was an amazing therapist, she helped Wanda with all the things you struggled to help with. You were only human, and you didn’t have a degree like Nat, but your moral support meant just as much to your girlfriend.

“Wanda?” Her head shot up at the sound of Natasha’s voice, she quickly grabbed your hand and the two of you walked into her office. She closed the door behind you, her eyes catching a quick glimpse of your body. You were even better than the photos, she couldn’t wait.

“And you must be Y/N if I’m correct.” You nodded and shook her hand, giving her a warm smile as you removed your coat. Wanda did the same, grabbing yours and placing it on the coat rack in the corner of the room.

“So, I’m assuming Wanda has told you why you’re here?” When she looked down at her knees where her fingers rested, nervously picking the skin off of them, she knew her answer.

“Uh, not really. I was a little bit hesitant about this, but she told me there was nothing to worry about, so I’m hoping it’s nothing bad.” You shied away from Nat’s eyes, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks at the woman’s clear attractiveness. You didn’t exactly know what her therapist looked like, but now you wished you had done your research beforehand. She was stunning, breathtaking.

“Well, I can assure you that you have done nothing wrong, honey, there are just some topics we’d like to approach if that’s alright with you.” You nodded and interlaced your hand with Wanda’s, giving a small squeeze to assure her you weren’t upset. She had been planning what to bring up since the moment she left last week, but it seemingly all vanished by now.

“Do you have a therapist or a counselor of your own, Y/N?” It started off with simple questions, ones that you’d expect. That was until she started asking about your relationship and prior ones too. You shifted in your seat as she continued, feeling the immense pressure with both of their eyes on you.

“Now, tell me, Y/N, do you feel satisfied with Wanda?”

“Of course, I do. She’s such a great woman and I can really feel her love, I haven’t ever had someone like her.” You could see Wanda smiling next to you and you joined her. You truly loved this woman more than anything, you wanted to marry her someday and you hoped she thought the same.

“And sexually? Do you feel sexually satisfied with Wanda?” You nearly choked on your spit from her words, nervously chuckling in hopes to redeem yourself. She noticed your expressions and tried reassuring you, holding back as best she could when she patted your knee.

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, trust me. It’s normal to feel a sense of discomfort in these situations, but I promise that everything here stays confidential.” Her voice was able to soothe you and calm your nerves.

“Uhm, I’d say so, yeah. Obviously, there are some…things I’d like to try, but we haven’t approached that.” She nodded, as if she wanted you to go on. You didn’t know what to say, your words were stuck in your throat. You were experienced with the topic, but it wasn’t one you openly shared or talked about with others.

“Would you say your sex life is more vanilla than you want it to be?” You loved Wanda, you really did, but she wasn’t the greatest when it came to your intimate moments. You could feel her love through it, but you wanted to see her rougher side, you knew she was holding back on you.

“To be honest, yeah. I kind of like things to be a bit more..kinky, you know?” You could see the redness on Wanda’s cheeks and the tip of her ears as she shuffled her feet around. You felt sorry for making her embarrassed, but that’s why she brought you here in the first place.

“What would you consider kinky, darling?” Her pet name had your lips quivering ever-so-slightly before you came up with a response.

“I guess I just wish she was a bit more rough with me. And don’t get me wrong, I love that I can really feel her care for me but sometimes I just want her to, like, use me.” Nat scooted her desk chair closer to you two, placing her hand on your thigh softly. Wanda was still silent, she was probably too scared to speak up.

“You want to be used, Y/N?” You nodded slowly, feeling your eyes drift to her lips. You felt so dirty looking at her the way you did your girlfriend, but you also knew she was doing the same.

“Hm, who knew such a sweet little thing could be so dirty?” You could feel her hand rubbing small circles on your covered skin, her eyes staring deeply into yours. She trailed them over your body, taking all of you in.

“Does this turn you on, honey?” You nodded once again. “Yeah? Me touching you while your girlfriend watches, that makes you wet?” You gulped down your arousal as you felt her thumb teasing your clit through the fabric, your legs instinctively opening for more.

“Kiss them for me, Wanda; act like I’m not even here.” You looked in the brunette's direction, watching as she snuck glances between the two of you. She placed one hand on your cheek and the other on your lower back as you leaned in for her lips to meet yours. You moaned into the kiss as Nat rid you of your pants, dragging her fingers across your panties and smiling at the wet patch adorning them. The noise allowed Wanda’s tongue to slip into your mouth, the intrusion causing you to groan in pleasure.

Your fingers ran through Nat’s hair, pleading her to come closer. You could feel her hot breath teasing your slit as she slid your panties to the side, small kisses being pressed against your clit.

“Please, Ms. Romanoff.” You pulled away from Wanda to catch your breath, your head resting on her shoulder. Your eyes landed on her crotch as you noticed her palming herself, her hips bucking into her hand.

“You’re such a good girl. Say, why don’t we give Wanda a little lesson, okay?” She smiled when you complied without a thought in your mind. She stood up, guiding you to join her as she removed your shirt, grinning when she took notice of your lacey bra.

“It’s Wanda’s favorite, I was going to surprise her tonight.” She huffed out a chuckle and reached around behind you to unclasp it, shuddering as it fell and you were left in nothing but your panties.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, baby. Now I can finally get my hands on you.” She had been so desperate to be alone in her office with the both of you, she wanted nothing more than to mark you both as hers.

She led you to her desk, her kisses trailing from your neck to your chest where her lips wrapped around your hardened bud. Your back was met with the wooden table as she lifted you to sit on it, her palms lingering on your soft thighs after she guided your last piece of clothing off of you. She parted them, dropping to her knees in front of you and staring up at you with lust in her eyes.

“Watch closely, Wanda.” You looked over to the woman at the mention of her name, biting your lip with hunger as you noticed her unbuttoned pants and her hand hidden inside of her boxers. She shuddered when you cupped your breast, using Nat’s saliva to help create a small rhythm.

Nat blew a teasing breath onto your pulsing clit before leaning in, taking the bud into her mouth. She sucked delicately, soaking in your moans and twitches. She was too engrossed in your taste to take notice of her growing erection in her pants.

“Oh, you look so pretty on your knees for me, Miss.” It was clear that she was still the one in charge, but her need for you was so great, she couldn’t care if she seemed weak. Wanda, while feeling a pang of jealousy, couldn’t deny the heat that was growing in her stomach. She felt as though she would burst any second, but she was trying to hold back. Her thumb would occasionally brush over her tip, causing her eyes to squeeze shut.

“Look at me, Wands; watch me.” She pried her eyelids open willingly, nearly whining when she saw you wrap your legs around her therapist’s head. You grinded into her face as her tongue tortured your hole, diving in and out repeatedly. She groped your ass in order to push you closer into her, her nose poking at your clit.

“Fuck! Fuck- right there, yes!” You covered your mouth with your hand in order to silence yourself, becoming ashamed of how loud you were. Neither of them were complaining though, they thrived off of your noises; it brought satisfaction knowing that they were the reason you were in such a deep state of pleasure.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum.” Nat smirked into your cunt as you were brought over the edge, your head falling back and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your silent screams filled the room as Nat continued to lap up your juices, Wanda watching with the wish that she was the one tasting you. You were addicting, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. Every sway of your hips, every lick of your lips, every noise, and every word that left that sweet mouth was so alluring.

You were suddenly pushed to lie down, feeling the lumber underneath you bruise your back. You leaned up on your elbows to admire the woman as she undressed herself, running her hand through her short hair once as to fix what you tugged.

“Tell me, love, have you ever heard of breeding?” You nodded, receiving a slap to your cheek. Wanda widened her eyes at both the words and the rough contact, is this what you meant? Is this how you wanted her to treat you, like you were some no-good slut?

“Yes, Miss, I have.” She hummed, guiding her tip through your slit and gathering the wetness as a replacement for lube.

“When was the last time you ever pleaded to milk Wanda dry, hm? Beg her to slap you ‘till your skin turned black and blue? Or, better yet, when was the last time you got on your knees and asked her in that sweet little tone of yours to treat you like the dirty whore you are?” Your chest rose and fell with every breath you took, each one not feeling like it was enough.

“Never.” You shook your head as you answered, your eyes not being able to meet hers. She gripped your chin roughly, pulling you in close so her nose was practically touching yours.

“What was that?” She asked again, even if she had already heard you well enough.

“Never.” You repeated, this time louder. She clicked her tongue and shot you a disapproving glance.

“Mm, there’s always two sides to the matter. Here Wanda was not knowing what to do because you couldn’t communicate, do you think that’s fair on her?” The way she spoke, the light rasp to her voice was what caused the wetness already coating your thighs to increase.

“N-no, Miss.” She turned your head to face Wanda and she blushed in the moment you caught her. You could notice the stains now coating her boxers and the shameful look on her face; she had peaked with you. You didn’t know how you didn’t hear her, she was usually the louder one of you both. But you guessed that you were too far into your orgasm to care for anything else.

“Apologize to your girlfriend, Y/N, and tell her how sorry you are.”

“I’m sorry, Wanda, I’m sorry for not- not talking about my needs and wants when I should’ve. I’m sorry.” You stuttered over your words as you felt Nat’s cock prodding at your hole, her tip breaking way and creating a small stretch.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry too.” She spoke up, and for the first time this entire session, you were able to hear her voice. It was coated thickly with her Sokovian accent seeing as she had just moved here nearly eight months ago. You hoped it would never go away, no matter how long she lived in this country.

“See? You’re both already doing such a good job.” You both smiled at the praises, seeming to fish for them from the woman at bay. You sent a small ‘I love you’ to Wanda from across the room, although it was only mouthed out. Nat grabbed hold of your waist, pulling you towards her and causing her length to fill you up almost entirely. You gasped at the intrusion, crying out in pain as you clawed at the desk.

She continued to slowly lead you further, moaning to herself as your warmth clamped around her. Your tears only brought more delight to her heart, she could only grin when seeing them.

“You’ve been begging for Wanda to use you yet you can barely even take me? Aren’t you just a pathetic fucking slut.” Her fingertips ran along your face, her thumb rubbing gentle circles as a faux sense of comfort. She then brought them down to your neck, wrapping her palm around it and cutting off your airways. The only thing you could manage to get out were choked sobs and moans. The burning discomfort slowly eased into one of satisfaction as Nat slowly thrusted her hips into you, the sounds of skin clapping together ringing through all three of you guys’ ears.

“Did you know your girl likes to be choked, Wanda?”

“N-no, ma’am.” She chuckled at the title given to her. Her breasts bounced with every movement of her hips, her cock hitting your womb. There was a small yet noticeable bulge carved out on your stomach making her groan, she was so big compared to you.

“Hm, maybe in our next session we can teach Y/N a lesson too, what do you say?” She didn’t need another opinion to decide her answer, it was final. It wasn’t just the brunette at fault, you were required to voice your wants too, even if she’d have to force it out of you.

“Please-” You managed to get out when her hand removed itself from your bruising neck and found a spot on your waist, pressing down harder than before. She was practically resting her weight on top of you, causing the bone to struggle in holding her up.

“Shut your dirty fucking mouth, I don’t want to hear another word from you.” You were close, so close, and so was she. She was forcing her body to hold back, ensuring that you were to finish first.

Wanda’s erection only grew after her orgasm, her greed making her yearn for another. You were the only one who had ever been able to make her cum, she assumed there was no better. Shyly, she walked forward, her soiled clothing still masking her bottom half. She gave Nat a look, asking for permission to which she was granted.

“Don’t ask, sweetheart, force it.” She was so used to constantly asking if it was okay to do something to your body, after all, it wasn’t her choice. Every time you’d say yes, but there was always a nagging fear that you’d not want it and she had forgotten to ask. The thought made her sick, who would ever think to do such a thing?

“They want it, Wanda. Just rub yourself against them- perfect, just like that.” She praised when Wanda held you by the back of your neck and rutted her bulge against your face, the fabric rubbing against her hard length. She whimpered when your hand came up to rub her balls, your mouth peppering kisses over her cock.

“You close, baby?” You didn’t know who she was asking, but you both agreed. You continued to gently suckle while wishing you were able to truly feel her instead of the wrinkles in her trousers.

“Ah! S-shit, cum with me.” You followed her orders and let the coil in your stomach snap as you soaked her cock, feeling her release shoot deep inside of you.

You nuzzled against Wanda as you felt her twitching, only to notice a wet patch forming on her pants. She had leaked through her underwear while itching for more, the knowledge only fueled your pride.

You mewled as Nat pulled out of you, watching as the cum dripped down your cunt, some landing on the desk while other droplets fell to the floor. She didn’t bother looking for her clothes, instead pulling the younger girl in for a kiss before doing the same with you. It was passionate, both kisses were. You could sense the longing and the emotions in it that she tried to mask, only making you chase after her lips for more once she leaned back.

“Shall we plan your next appointment then?”

[jjkeremika]

AoT men confess their love for you

i.e., how i think they’d tell you they love you

reader x Eren, Jean, Armin, Reiner, Porco, Erwin, Levi, Zeke, Bertoldt

*unspecified gender reader*

Eren - blurts it out during sex and you can’t convince me otherwise

You and Eren weren’t really dating, per se… more like… hooking up behind your best friend’s back. The fact that Mikasa was his sister and your best friend was enough to keep both your urges at bay for a few months, but when she left for summer camp and he stayed behind, leaving just you two to keep each other company… well… things took on a life of their own.

So for the whole summer you and Eren gallivanted around the districts over, going on unlabelled dates and hiding from those (Armin, Jean) who just might tell Mikasa about the tryst, because maybe telling her was just too fast or too complicated for the easy and noncommittal situationship.

Which felt like exactly that… until you were bouncing on his cock in the back of his car, his mouth attached to your neck and your fingers curled in his hair. He thrusted upwards, evoking a loud moan from you, when Eren suddenly blurted out, “I think I love you,” with a hearty breath, his hips never stuttering as he kept the motion, his mouth compensating for the words by pressing to your neck.

Maybe it was time to call your best friend.

Jean - it slips out and he tries to deflect it but you already knew

You met Jean during volunteer community service, where you and the awkwardly-tall brunette would leisurely walk around the districts and collect litter. The first day everyone was set off in pairs, you two randomly assigned to wander the same district, and you both actively decided to group together every time after that.

Your conversations were rarely of any importance, mostly letting it serve as either a way to pass time or to express feelings and opinions about people the other doesn't know. At first, he talked an awfully lot about some woman who you weren't sure from his stories if she even knew he existed. Over the months of service together, he stopped bringing her up and started talking about this other person of interest instead.

His cheeks and ears turned bright pink whenever you'd ask about how he met this person, usually providing some vague and nondeterministic answer that honestly left you more confused than before. Some stuttered-out answers and a few too-similar-to-your-own interests later, you had a deep suspicion and debated how to delve it out of him.

It wasn't very hard. One week before the holiday break you two were wandering around, discussing future plans with friends and family for the upcoming holiday. "Are you excited for the break?" you asked, nudging his side with your elbow. "Huh?" he responded curiously, "Oh, I... Yeah, I guess." You snorted in response, "Sounds like it. C'mon, the holiday is a time for being with your love ones! Isn't that exciting?"

"But I only see them not on break, during volunteerin--" It was almost like he'd forgotten who he was speaking to, and his entire face erupted in various shades of pinks and reds, maybe even a light purple from the lack of breathing. He was internally kicking himself, berating himself for being so loose and stupid around you, for always struggling to think around you. He was oblivious to the smile on your face. "I, uh, because, I... love volunteering... so much."

Armin - tells you he's in love with you because you've changed his life (he’s poetic without meaning to be)

Armin was unusual from other men you’ve dated. Height aside, he was very in touch with his emotions, intelligent, and capable; but he tormented himself with baseless insecurities and unfounded truths until all of his perks were equally weighed down by his shortcomings. He’d bring himself down until he was impossibly low, until his opinion of himself couldn’t get lower.

He was depressed when you first met, his friends warning you that maybe it was beyond you, that it wasn’t your responsibility anyway. You knew that, of course, but it was Armin, and it’s difficult to watch sunshine be forced behind endless seas of clouds. So you’d remind him as much as possible to be kinder to himself, to speak to himself positively since he’s the only one who he will spend forever with.

It wasn’t a surprise when your relationship advanced; the effort and care you put in him nurtured feelings beyond friendship. The warmth spread inside him like a wildfire from a lit match in dry brush, and he found himself favoring you over any form of logic or reason.

It was a random weekday when he pulled you aside, trying to make time for a brief 5 minute date between lessons. He seemed nervous, which wasn’t necessarily odd, but he’d become significantly more comfortable around you over the years. “I, uh,” he started unsurely, hesitantly, “You mean so much to me. I can't imagine this life without you. I..." He crossed his forearm over his stomach as he anchored his shaky hand on the inside of his other arm's elbow, holding it tightly to stop his body from shaking as he angelically stared into your eyes. "I’m in love with you. And I don’t mean that poetically or sexually or theoretically or logically or figuratively or ideologically or any of that. I mean it literally. I am in love with you.”

Reiner - tried to act like he didn’t care but he was really invested in your response

You had been casually dating around when you first met Reiner, the tall bulky blond with the bordering-arrogant demeanor having approached you at the bar while your date was in the bathroom. He had a confident smirk plastered across his cheeks as he said, “You know, my wallet has been itching to buy the most stunning person in this room a drink, and, well, I think I’ve found them.”

It shouldn’t have worked but you’d had a few drinks already and a new heat burned in your abdomen and he was significantly more attractive than your current date, so you accepted his invitation to buy you a new drink and take the seat. A second first date of the night, completed with a quick fuck in the bathroom and at home.

Your relationship progressed smoothly from then on, with a heavy positive emphasis in the bedroom. And while neither of you ever clarified the relationship and asked if it was official, your eyes and lips and privates were so glued to each other there was no peripheral for any one else. Which was why, while Reiner never explicitly stated how he felt for you aside from daily comments--"My god, baby, you are so sexy,"; "Mmf, you make me feel too fucking good, darlin', fuck,"; "Sexiest person alive, yeah. you already know I'm speaking about you and your smart sexy ass,"--you were never really that worried anyway.

So when you two were laying on your backs in the bed, side-by-side, chest heaving to catch your breaths, and the words slipped from his mouth post-coitus, "Fuck, darlin', I love you," you were shocked, and a, "What did you say?" slipped from your mouth before you could process. He bit the inside of his lip and felt a nervous weightlessness erupt in his stomach. Reiner shrugged and sat upright, blocking his face from your view with his back. "Huh? Didn't hear me?" Reiner asked, forcing his voice to remain confident and steady, and turned to look at you briefly before stirring to stand up. He shrugged, the inside of his cheek rough and chewed up like a dog-toy. "I just said I love you. It's not a... big deal."

Porco - says it like a joke so you aren’t totally sure if he means it

Galliard was your best guy friend, joining you anywhere you didn’t want to go alone and cracking jokes to lighten the mood. He was really good at that, making you laugh, and he couldn’t deny that the sound was like music to his ears, magical notes strung together to create the most beautiful song he’d ever heard.

It was exactly because of how close you two were that both of you feared doing exactly what you wanted the other to do—make the first move. And because it was the other one, every flirty touch or suggestive comments were stripped of all intention, because there’s just no way the best friend would ever be into them too. Instead, it was personally replaced with sarcastic or playful undertones and purposeful reminders of feelings that didn’t exist.

You had convinced him to go to the lake with you, which your friends conveniently bailed on so that it really was just you two. Porco had hopped into your kayak from the dock, taking you by surprise and fearing a capsize. “Porco!” you screamed, giggling, holding onto the edge of the kayak, “What’s wrong with your own kayak? Desperately trying to get close to me?”

You watched the adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed intently, like he was carefully choosing when to breathe and what to say. “Haha, yeah,” he settled on, forcing himself to chuckle lightly, his voice littered with nuanced feelings he couldn’t bring himself to say confidently, “because I’m definitely in love with you…” You noticed Porco’s lack of eye contact, that he was now looking far off into the distance. “Or something like that,” he joked nervously, wiping his sweaty palms against his thighs as he sat down behind you, hoping you couldn’t see through his charade.

Erwin (age gap) - planned it out but everything didn’t go to plan

After six months together, Erwin already knew how strongly he felt towards you. You were everything he could’ve hoped for and everything he’d waited for. He already knew he wanted you as his future spouse (eventually, he knew you weren’t ready to marry). And so he wanted the moment he told you how he felt to be special to you, to be as special as you were to him.

Erwin had your six-month anniversary date planned out to the T: first, a leisurely walk around the park; second, a quick stop at a couple of your favorite shops nearby to browse and buy you a gift (or gifts, really, he’d buy whatever you wanted); third, stop in at the new bistro you’ve been dying to try—“Ooh, Winnie, look, look! We have to go there!”; fourth, walk around and watch the stars until your feet were sore and he could carry you home.

A sudden rainstorm ruined the walk, forcing both of you to run for cover under some trees for quite some time until it passed. Once the rain finally stopped, it was too close to the dinner reservation time to stop in at the shops, and he shuttled you to the bistro. You were both sat next to a loud family with screaming children, barely able to hear the other speak the entire time, staring at each other with morose smiles while munching on mediocre food. The stars hid behind thick dark clouds as you both walked home, and Erwin felt too defeated to ask to carry you because you were finally enjoying that brisk walk.

At your doorstep, when he profusely apologized for ruining your anniversary date—“Ernie, seriously? Stop apologizing! You can’t control the weather! And the restaurant was my idea anyway.” The frown lines on his face deepened and twisted in morose. “No, that’s not…” he sighed, upset that nothing had gone to plan, “I wanted everything to be the perfect night for my perfect person, a wonderful night solely for the one I love…” he added in a whisper, “…and I messed it all up.”

Inviting him felt like the only way to reverse his thoughts, to make him realize that, despite everything he considered so wrong, it was all so correctly wrong to you it may as well have been perfect.

Levi - thinks it should be obvious since he’s still with you

It was about subtlety when dating Levi. At least, that’s what you’d figured out in the year you’ve been together. His face was relatively expressionless, so you’d learned to read his body language, but you honestly worried you’d never be fluent, because you still questioned the presence or validity of his feelings for you on some days.

He said it once, that he felt deeply for you on the day he asked you out. He repeated it on your six-month anniversary, when you asked if he still felt that way and he answered with a monotoned, “Well, yeah. Obviously. I thought it was implied since we’re together and all.”

Your favorite version of him was when he was sleepy, when he was too tired to keep his protective walls up, because he was cuddly and cozy and craved nothing but your presence and warmth and actively showered you with soft kisses.

It was when his guard was down like this that you asked him, on your one-year, if he still felt the same—shielding the fear of his answer by joking that you’ll ask him every six months—and he rolled his eyes playfully and chuckled, wrapping his arm tighter around you, kissing your cheek, and muttering, “Yes, love, and I’ll give you the same answer six months, six years, and six centuries from now.”

Zeke - writes you a love letter (unlike armin he tries to be poetic)

Zeke was into you well before you even started to reciprocate those feelings. There was something so enigmatic about you, a light airy aura that made him feel buoyant, that unchained him from the burden of his father’s wants and wishes. In his eyes, you saved him.

For a debt he felt he could never repay, he always brought you flowers and sweets and gifts; he wrote long poems detailing that your beauty was beyond all beholders, that you put the sun to shame, that you were the spark to start his supernova; he sent you good morning beautiful and sweet dreams baby texts, hoping you started and ended your day with a smile.

After a couple months of exclusive dating, he wrote you a love letter, expressing the extent of what you meant to him—the burning shape of you etched permanently in his heart—, handing it to you with a deep red stretched across his face and asking you to read it privately, to share it with no one.

My dearest beloved, I write as I know my tongue will fail me, reminiscent of all previous attempts where my lips part and only whimsy air escapes. Remember those moments, my dear? How you'd don a concerned expression and question me in my flustered state. Oh, how futile the intention feels when my spiritual body abandons me, rendering my physical body utterly useless in translation as my stoic invulnerability precedes me. Oh, how I yearn for you the way broken skin stitches itself back together, the way fibers of a wire stretch to hold on, to come together and remain as one. Oh, how you complete me the manner punctuation consummates these phrases, embedding the lines with a flourish no words could elicit. All your self-proclaimed flaws are null to the universe, your soul culminating as the true embodiment of pure perfection with flavorful cracks in the profile, cracks that you've offered to my pitiful soul, pristine ledges to hold on to as humanity crumbles from your grace. Oh, how if what you provide me with is god-like pity, how I want nothing more than for that bliss to fuel my burning heart, to further engulf my being with this feverish love, to only be quenched by your will.

Bertoldt - he’s shy, so his friends tell you for him

Look, really, no offense to Bertoldt, but, well, he never said a word. Which, like, what the hell? You could tell—or rather, you were pretty sure—he was into you by the way he tensed up when you were around, by the longing glances he’d cast your direction when you were nearby.

Holding conversations was difficult in an endearing way, because he was shy—painfully shy—around you, making small comments with a smile and pink cheeks, stuttering out small compliments and avoiding eye contact like he’d crossed a line (honestly you wished he’d crossed more).

You were starting to lose hope after months of talking led to little improvements, him still awkward around you, still not telling you how he really feels, if he likes you in that way. And like, how could you really be sure that he did if his hints were shit?

One day you receive a video message from Reiner, in it depicting Bertoldt and Porco sitting on a leather couch and talking—well, Porco wasn’t. Bertoldt was talking. A lot. About you. Talking about how you make him so nervous he freezes, how he finds you so attractive his body doesn’t know how to react, how he gets goosebumps on his neck at just the sound of your voice, how the secret love he had for you took up so much volume in his throat he couldn’t even speak or breathe near you.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Ray, more of the Assassination Classroom Fem!Tsuna hit. This is entirely your fault, so you get to deal with it.

Tsuna has a sinking feeling in her gut the first day of middle school. She gets turned around and mixed up, and somehow she ends up on a bus, and she’s racing through the woods and into a classroom full of strangers. She’s too embarrassed to say anything so she slinks into a seat in a corner. She’s in the wrong school, the senpai at Namimori Middle have her in entirely the wrong town. Even a dame like her can recognize Kunugigaoka uniforms. Hibari-senpai is going to be so angry with her.

Nothing could have prepared her for Koro-sensei. — Tsuna is petrified. She’s too young for this. After all the ruckus, everyone’s attempts, that’s all that rings in her head. She’s too young for this. She’s not even supposed to be here. — Tsuna is stuck. She can’t afford to take the bus, or the time to take the bus, from Namimori everyday. In retrospect, she really does have to hand it to her old senpai. They’d gotten up early to ‘walk her to school’ and paid to get her on the bus. But it’s coming close to the end of the day, they’ve come no closer to assassinating Koro-sensei, and she doesn’t have bus fare home anyway. She’s not even sure Mama would be able to keep it together long enough to come get her.

Everyone in Namimori knows her Mama needs, help sometimes. Everyone is glad to give it to her. Tsuna just doesn’t trust that anyone would think helping her Mama help Tsuna would be a good thing. — Trembling, Tsuna stays in her seat at the end of the day. What should she do? What can she do? She’s just Dame-Tsuna, in the wrong grade, in the wrong class, in the wrong school, in the wrong town. She keeps her head tilted down to allow everyone to ignore her tears.

A gentle touch to her shoulder makes her flinch. She tilts her head up to see Koro-sensei standing at her shoulder. — Calling Mama was useless, just like Tsuna knew it would be. She’s just thrilled that her “Dame-Tsuna” managed to get into the prestigious Kunugigao despite her, everything. Tsuna loves her mama, she does. But sometimes Tsuna thinks she could hate her a little too. Karasuma-sensei and Koro-sensei are both very angry.

Tsuna wants to cry that it’s not her fault. Mama tries to love her and pay attention to her, but Mama is sick. Something doesn’t work right in Mama’s head, like something doesn’t work right in Tsuna’s. But while whatever went wrong in Mama’s head means that she has a hard time remembering things if she doesn’t see them, whatever’s wrong with Tsuna is just everything. — They get her an apartment. It’s close to the school and a market. It’s basic and bare and empty and tiny, but Tsuna supposes she’s tiny so that makes sense. Karasuma-sensei is her neighbor, but she’s left to basically make it on her own. She gets a small stipend, the only one in class to do so. It’s not much, but it should be enough for groceries.

She doesn’t know how to cook. She never learned how to do what her homework is asking her to do. At least she can tell herself it’s because it’s work two grades above her and not just because she’s dame. — Karasuma-sensei is kind enough to get her to school the next day. He’s also nice enough not to say anything about her still red eyes, or how long she sobbed last night. He just handed her a handkerchief.

Tsunami can’t remember the last time someone was so kind to her. She waits for the ridicule to start, but it never comes. — After a few days, when it becomes obvious and impossible to ignore that she’s just as stuck here as the rest of them, Nagisa-senpai gives her a girl’s uniform. It’s big on her, but at least she doesn’t stand out this way. As much.

Tsuna pricks her fingers bloody, and her stitches are crooked, and the seams are bulky, but at least it kind of fits her a little better now.

[donutz]

— *🎩 Mach x reader headcanons!!

Mach x reader headcanons

— Before relationship

She enjoys your company

Why wouldn’t she?

Other than Pilby, she doesn’t really have anybody else to talk to

Minus family members

You’re a very entertaining person

“Do you use your banhammer to exercise?”

“... No.”

“Oh, so you use just normal exercising equipment?”

“No.”

“...”

She finds your conversation starters to be interesting

Because of her tall height(excluding her hat) she enjoys how small you are to her

Unless you’re her exact height or taller than her, seeing you all tiny makes her… She doesn’t know— Powerful? Yeah, maybe it makes her feel powerful.

She doesn’t feel that way with Pilby, so why is it different with you?

She really appreciates you respecting her boundaries

If you’re more of a touchy person, she can visibly see you trying not to hug her

When she sees this happening, she’ll open up her arms and say, “Here.” As if she’s inviting you to hug her

You run into her arms, all giddy and cheery

As she’s slightly blushing

Making her cold tempered body, more warm rather than chilly

Hm.

Physical affection with you makes her feel vulnerable, especially in a public setting, which is less likely to happen.

Her favorite part of physical touch with you is holding hands

If you’re smaller than her, she likes the size comparison between your hand and hers

Holding and hugging you is… Nice. She enjoys your company.

— In Love

She notices how her slow beating heart beats a little faster when she sees you

Strange.

That’s never happened before.

Not even in wars or battles.

What a strange person you are.

Seeing you happy makes her happy, and seeing you sad makes her sad.

She sometimes catches herself internally happy at you being overly excited

She doesn’t catch herself smiling, no, because it’s kind of.. Impossible.

Or I guess, within my view, out of character.

She writes it down in her very much personal journal

Lately over the days, she’s been writing about you.

Well why shouldn’t she? You make her feel something new almost everyday!

She’s chuckled at your behavior, hugged you, thought about you quite a lot and— Oh my the list goes on!

She’s even told Pilby about you

They very much appreciate Mach telling them such things, and are happy for her

But- Pilby let one thing slip between their lips

And that thing is…

You like Mach too!

Mach went silent, staring at Pilby for a good five seconds

Before she notices Pilby starting to cry.

She reassures them, saying that it was okay

That she’ll go to you to make sure Pilby was right

Pilby just stood there, worried and disappointed in themselves for letting out such a personal secret.

Pilby my baby :O(

— Confessing..♡︎

A letter, no, maybe words?

Though, actions do speak louder than words.

I think they’d find it more serious if I spoke it myself.

Mach takes you to her office to, “Discuss a topic”.

“I, myself, have considered something about you. A feeling. A feeling that makes me feel warm and happy.”

“...”

“That feeling is one I’ve never felt before. I enjoy your company and your nonexistence causes me worry at times.”

“Though you might have figured it out already, my feelings for you are immense. In words that may be hard to say, I love you.”

Hearing those words really made you go silent. Even if your feelings were the same, saying words wasn’t available.

“... Your silence tells me that you are surprised.”

“Oh— Sorry! I do return your feelings!! I was just taken off guard…”

Hearing your words makes my eyebrows raise, and the muscles within my jaw slightly part my lips.

You stare at her, worried you’d put her in a state of shock or something.

“I. Appreciate your reciprocated feelings..” Mach turns her head away when she sees your clueless expression.

I let out a breath, collecting the courage to ask, “Would you.. Like to receive the label as “My partner”?”

You smile at her nervousness, “Ya! Would you like to be my—”

She hugs you, hiding her face away from your view

“Yes. I do.”

It seems she’s too shy to hear the word, “Girlfriend”.

— Together <3

It’s… Awkward between you two.

It doesn’t really seem awkward for Mach, but you’re even more nervous around her presence, as if you two were just strangers!

But you don’t avoid her of course, why would you do that?

Mach enjoys quality time, physical touch isn’t her strong suit— But for you she doesn’t mind♡︎

Most of the quality time you two spend together is you checking out the obbies she creates

If you want to try them, she slightly hesitates but says yes

She watches over you very carefully, making sure to catch you the second after you fall

She’ll never get disappointed at you failing to complete her obbies

At first she doesn’t turn on the fire wall, but if you’re up for a challenge, she turns it on.

She’s smiled at you enjoying her obby many times

If you do complete it, she instantly praises you and talks about your skills

Her favorite times is when you both are watching other players play her obby

She does enjoy cuddling with you, quite a lot actually.

Doesn’t matter if you’re bigger than her, she’s the big spoon

Looking at you sleeping so peacefully is like listening to cat purrs, calming.

Though she doesn’t sleep much, you sleeping somehow convinces her brain to shut off(half of it) for a few hours

If you struggle with sleeping, she’s always there to comfort you

Insomniac? Hey, that’s probably her too

She really can’t judge

She’d never judge you

Most likely anyways, it depends on the situation.

Baking is an activity that she loves to see you do specifically, but baking with you just might be even better.

“Oh— You have some frosting on yer nose!”

She looks at you,

You gesture to lean her head down, as she is quite the tall woman

You lightly grab her face, using your thumb to wipe off the frosting

Then giving her nose a kiss

“There!”

You go back to whipping the frosting, as Mach stands there.

She also goes back to whipping the frosting, looking at the ground so you don’t see her very much red face.

A/N|| I apologize if this is ooc! I was looking at Mach's interaction dialogue and found out she wasn't as serious as I thought.. (-ω-、)

[vintageshanny]

For the First Time

Content: 18+ This is a one-shot about Elvis losing his virginity. I do not claim to be an expert on the details of this. I have heard different rumors, and this is, to me, one possibility of how things might have happened. There is smut in this, but I’m more focused on how he might have been feeling at this time. As always, my tender little heart bleeds with love for him and everything he went through in his life. I would very much appreciate any feedback. ❤️

Thank you @lookingforrainbows for talking me through ideas on this and letting me know it didn’t sound ridiculous. You are a beautiful soul. ❤️ 😘

Fall 1954

Elvis ran his fingers over the outline of the condom package that Scotty had slipped into his pocket at the beginning of the tour. “I know ya got a girl, EP, but put it in your wallet man, just in case. Ya don’t wanna come back with more people than ya left with,” he’d added with a wink. Somehow rubbing his fingers over the rough edges calmed Elvis’ ragged nerves a little bit.

His mind drifted to Dixie and the promises they’d made to each other. To wait. To wait until they were married to consummate their relationship. Sure, they were affectionate with each other, always hugging and kissing, but whenever Elvis tried to sneak his hand up under her skirt or unbutton a couple buttons on her dress, she’d firmly push him away and say, “That’s for our wedding night, silly.” Sometimes when they were kissing, she’d let him grind against her through their clothes, and he’d get so worked up that he needed to make an excuse to go to the bathroom so he could relieve the amount of passion coursing through his entire body.

The promise to wait had seemed so much easier six months ago when they talked about it. Now, it was damn near impossible. He saw the way these girls looked at him after the shows. He was dying to know what it felt like to explore every part of a woman. He thought maybe if he just got this out of his system, the waiting with Dixie wouldn’t be so hard. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was a man after all, and she didn’t need to know about this. He could experience this on the road and be good for her at home. He just needed to find a way to make sure everyone was happy and taken care of, like he’d always tried to do.

Dropping the condom onto the rumpled bedspread, he rose from the edge of the bed and started pacing the hotel room, the voices floating up from the courtyard below making his heart thud in his chest.

“Maria! You came!” Scotty’s reedy voice rang out.

“That’s the idea,” Bill added, only slightly under his breath.

“You should head right up! Elvis should be waitin’ for ya. He’s been waitin’ a looong time.”

Elvis cringed at Scotty’s words as he looked out the window and saw the two of them clink beer bottles and laugh.

Maria paused and turned to look at them, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What’s that supposed ta mean?”

Elvis held his breath, willing Scotty not to divulge too much. He’d never come right out and told the guys he was a virgin, but he saw the way they nudged each other and smirked whenever he was talking to a girl after the show. He slowly exhaled as Scotty responded.

“Aw nothin’, honey, I just hope you two have fun on your date.”

Maria rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs, carefully ascending them in her white kitten heels. She took a deep breath, smoothed out her pale yellow sundress, and tried to brace herself for what was on the other side of that door. She had been with a handful of other men, but this was a bona fide star. He probably invited a different girl up every night. Maybe that’s what the other guys had been joking about. She hoped she would live up to his expectations, especially after her bold proclamation earlier. The conversation replayed in her head as she lifted her hand to knock on the door.

“Hey baby, I could see ya dancin’ from up on that stage. Looks like ya really enjoyed the show.”

“I sure did. Maybe I can return the favor with a show of my own.” A sense of satisfaction had consumed her when he unexpectedly blushed at her advances.

Maria’s mind snapped back to the present as Elvis flung open the door. He was wearing black dress pants with a pink jacket open to the naval. As he rested one hand slightly below his hip, she took note of his long slender fingers, nails chewed down to the nub, and the fuzzy little trail of hair leading down from his belly button. Up close, and in the fluorescent lighting of the hotel, she could see he had a pimple on his chin and another close to his collarbone. The entire scene was absolutely intoxicating.

“Maria, I was startin’ ta think ya were gonna stand me up, baby.” Elvis flashed a crooked little grin and stepped aside to let her in the room. He quickly kicked a stray sock under the bed where he’d hidden the rest of his dirty clothes. After sniffing each pair of socks, he had decided it was best to just stay barefoot after his shower. His toes scrunched up at the feel of the rough carpet under his feet.

“No, of course not,” Maria giggled nervously. “I suppose I just took too long tryin’ ta look nice for ya.”

“Well ya sure do look nice, honey,” Elvis whispered lowly as he closed the door and grabbed her by the waist, feeling the soft flesh of her hips. He leaned in and smushed his lips into hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth when she let out a little gasp.

“Wow, you don’t waste no time gettin’ to the action, hmm?” she laughed a little bit when he finally pulled back for some air, his eyes closed. His hands had moved up a little bit, his thumb gently rubbing at the side of her breast.

“I-I-I thought that’s what ya wanted, baby,” Elvis stammered out, trying to read her expression. “If you’d rather just sit and talk, that’s okay.” He led her over toward the bed, and they both spotted the condom at the same moment. Elvis’ face turned bright red as he snatched it up. “Oh, I-I-I’m sorry baby, I d-d-didn’t mean ta leave that there like that. We really ain’t gotta do nothin’, I-I-I mean-”

Maria just laughed and pushed him gently backward until he was sitting on the bed. “It’s okay, Elvis.” She unbuttoned his jacket the rest of the way and slipped it off his shoulders. “I always make good on my promises.”

Elvis stared in awe as she reached behind herself and unzipped the yellow dress, letting it fall to the ground, revealing a silky pink bra and panties. Elvis gulped nervously as he stared at her body. The material was so thin and sheer, he could see the outline of her nipples and the little mound of hair down below. He stifled a groan as he could feel his cock growing hard, straining against the briefs that he now wished he’d forgone.

“You’re really gonna make me put on a show for ya, huh?” Maria teased as Elvis just sat there studying her. “I thought ya might join in.” She reached back and unclasped her bra, her perky breasts now on full display for him.

“I-I-I’m sorry honey, ya jus’ got me a little speechless here. I’ll join in,” Elvis murmured as he pulled her closer to him. He tentatively leaned in and took one of her nipples in his mouth, caressing it with his warm tongue.

“Mmm, that’s more like it,” she whispered. “You can touch me anywhere, Elvis.” As she grabbed his hand to guide it toward her panties, she realized he was literally shaking with nerves. “Elvis? Are ya okay?” As she looked at him with concern, the meaning of Scotty’s “He’s been waitin’ a long time” suddenly hit her. “Are you, I mean, is this your, um, first time?” she asked softly.

“Wh-wh-what?” Elvis exclaimed, jerking his trembling hand away. “N-n-no baby, I-I-I’ve been with plenty of girls. I-I-I jus’, um, I mean, n-n-none as beautiful as you, that’s all,” he stammered out, trying to distract her with a compliment.

Maria wanted to tell him it was okay, that she was flattered, that he didn’t need to be nervous, but she decided it was best to just drop it and help him relax. She smiled and nodded. “You’re sweet, Elvis. I wanna see if ya taste sweet too.” She dropped down to her knees and unbuttoned his pants.

“Wh-wh-what are ya doin’ honey? Ya ain’t gotta do all that.” Elvis heard the words come out of his mouth, but somehow his body’s desire betrayed him by lifting slightly off the bed so Maria could pull off his pants. His heart raced anxiously as she reached inside of his briefs. He knew from being in the locker rooms back in school that not everyone had a sheath of foreskin covering their dick, and he hoped she wouldn’t mock him the way some of his classmates had.

Maria could feel her panties getting wetter by the second as she wrapped her hand around something thick and warm inside Elvis’ briefs. “We should just get these outta the way,” she murmured, pulling them down his legs and watching as he sprang free from the confinement. Her eyes widened with surprise when she realized he was not…well, not like the other guys she’d been with. There was something extra wrapped around him. She liked the way it felt as she pumped it with her hand.

Elvis squinched his eyes shut, too afraid he’d see a look of disgust before she jumped up and ran off. Instead, he felt something warm and wet wrap around his hard dick. He opened his eyes to see Maria taking him deep in her mouth, and the moan he let out made him kick himself for not closing the window tight. The whole hotel must know what’s going on in here. Her tongue traced its way around his shaft before taking special care of his sensitive tip. Elvis thought he might explode right on the spot as she sucked on him.

“You do taste good y’know,” Maria said with a little wink as she pulled off him and stood up again. She slid her dampened panties down and stepped out of them, so they were both totally naked. “Do you wanna check if I’m ready for ya?” Elvis nodded and this time let her guide his hand between her legs.

“Baby, it’s so wet down there,” he murmured as Maria started moaning. He found her entrance and slipped a finger inside of her, moving it in a way that felt natural. She felt so soft and silky, he thought he could just play with her pussy for hours. But Maria wanted more than a finger.

“You should slide right in then,” she whispered as she moved his hand and laid down on the bed next to him. He grabbed the condom again and opened it, rolling it onto himself, hoping Maria couldn’t tell he’d never done this before. Maria smiled at the awkward way he put on the condom, and noticed that she could feel him trembling again. “I want it so bad, Elvis,” she reassured him, pulling him on top of her.

“Me too, baby, me too.” Elvis reached down and guided his dick toward her slick opening. Once he’d gently pushed in a couple inches, he thrusted in the rest of the way, her wet pussy consuming his entire length. “Oh, goddamn,” he moaned out, unprepared for the feeling of something so tight and wet wrapped around him, clenching at him. He tried to take it slow, tried to make it last, but the pleasure was overpowering. He thrust a few times before his orgasm completely took over, leaving him panting on top of Maria, his sweaty hair dripping down onto her forehead.

“Oh wow, baby, you are amazing.” Elvis slowly pulled out and rolled to his side. He carefully peeled off the condom and tossed it into the trash can by the bed. “I-I-I’m sorry, I usually l-l-last longer, I jus’, uh, got so excited,” he tried to explain, his face turning red from the lies and the exertion.

Maria just smiled and patted his chest. “That’s okay, I thought your excitement was very sweet.” She hesitated, then added, “Do ya think you could, um, help me get there though? Your fingers felt magical inside me,” she admitted with a blush.

“Really?” Elvis perked up at the compliment. “I mean, of course baby.” He reached over between her legs and started playing with her pussy again, taking mental note of what seemed to work the best. She moaned deeply when he put a finger inside her, but he noticed that her toes curled up and she could barely even function when he rubbed at her little button. I wonder what both at once would do. He kneeled next to her and put two fingers from one hand inside of her while his thumb on the other hand worked that little nub.

“Oh, God!” she cried out in ecstasy, her legs shaking, her arousal leaking out onto his fingers. “Oh Elvis, I c-c-can’t take it,” she moaned, begging him to stop. Elvis removed his fingers and smiled, very pleased with his ability as he leaned down to kiss her soft lips.

“Was that magical enough?” he whispered in her ear.

“Pure magic.” Maria pulled him in for another passionate kiss.

“C-c-can I ask ya somethin’, honey?” Elvis gently stroked Maria’s arm with his fingertips. “After talkin’ to ya, ya seem like such a nice sweet girl. Wh-wh-why did ya do this with me?”

Maria tried to sort out the thoughts in her head, wondering how much she should share. “You seem like a nice sweet guy. Why did you do it?” she finally asked.

“W-w-well, that’s different, I mean, I…I wanted ta feel good I guess,” Elvis stumbled over his explanation, unable to really articulate what he was feeling at that exact moment.

“So did I,” Maria responded. “Elvis, I’ve been through some really bad experiences. I suppose at heart I’m just lonely and this is a way to feel close to someone, to feel connected and cared for, even if just for a little while. Ya know what I mean?”

Elvis swallowed a lump in his throat. It was like she had put his exact thoughts into words. “I know exactly what ya mean, honey. Does it work? Ta make ya feel close ta someone, I mean?”

Maria let out a little sigh. “Sometimes. Sometimes not so much. But we all just try the best we can, I suppose.”

Elvis nodded as Maria stood up to get dressed. “I should get home. My mama will worry and wonder where I’ve been.”

“What will you tell her?” Elvis asked as he pulled his clothes back on.

“That I was having a deep conversation with a friend,” Maria laughed. “Y’know, not really a lie, but not the whole truth. Not everyone needs ta know everything.”

“Will I, uh, will I see ya again at another show?”

Maria smiled and hugged him tight. “Maybe. But maybe we were just the connection the other needed in this moment.”

Maria paused at the door and looked back. “Elvis?”

“Yeah, honey?” Elvis’ mind was a muddle of confused emotions right now.

“You are very sweet and very special. Never let anyone make ya feel like that ain’t enough.” That crooked little smile would be burned into her mind forever.

Twenty minutes later, Elvis descended the steps to the courtyard, wondering what the guys were up to. Scotty and Bill were playing cards when they saw him approaching and started a round of applause. “There he is!” Scotty yelled out. “I told ya that condom would come in handy.”

“Aw quit it,” Elvis snapped, but he couldn’t deny feeling a tiny surge of pride at being considered “one of the guys” for the first time in his life. He couldn’t see it now, but over the years ahead, he’d sacrifice so much for the desire to fit in, to connect with people, to wish they could understand him. What he’d give for just one person to really understand what he was going through. To understand his heart.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone

[shitsndgiggs]

Hello there i am new here and love your work so much, this is my first ever request so i hope you could consider writing when you have time.

So the oc and Kenan have know each other since child and their family are also close. Oc have a huge crush on Kenan so did him, but oc is not afraid of showing it so everyone around them friends and family knew about it. They never confess but their actions shows. Kenan have lots of girls pursuing him so oc have moments where she is vey jealous because Kenan is a kind hearted person and talks nicely to them, but Kenan somehow make up to it(?). But.. one day she saw him kiss a beautiful influencer and assume they are dating and oc distance herself from Kenan's life. And Kenan try go win her back and confess to each other.

A little angst with fluff and happy ending please. Thank you <3

JUST US - KENAN YILDIZ

… idk what to write here

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Growing up in a small town, the lines between family and friendship were often blurred. My family and Kenan’s were the epitome of that.

From playdates to family dinners, our lives were intertwined in ways that made it impossible to separate one from the other.

We were always together, whether we liked it or not. But as we grew older, what started as innocent childhood companionship evolved into something more complex—at least, for me.

I don’t remember the exact moment I realized I had a crush on Kenan. Maybe it was when he defended me against a playground bully in third grade, or when he spent a whole weekend helping me finish a school project that was due on Monday.

Or perhaps it was the way he always had this stupid grin on his face whenever he saw me, like seeing me was the best part of his day. Whatever it was, my crush on him grew slowly, steadily, until it became impossible to ignore.

Unlike most people with a secret crush, I didn’t exactly try to hide it. I couldn’t help but blush whenever he was near, and I’d make up the most ridiculous excuses just to spend more time with him.

My friends teased me about it constantly, and our families noticed, too.

They’d exchange knowing looks whenever I gazed a little too long at him, or when I found some flimsy reason to sit next to him at the dinner table. It wasn’t a secret to anyone—except Kenan himself.

Despite my obvious affections, Kenan remained blissfully unaware. He was kind-hearted and warm, with an easygoing nature that drew people to him, especially girls.

And that was the problem.

Even though everyone knew how I felt about him, Kenan never seemed to catch on, or maybe he just didn’t feel the same way.

It didn’t help that there were always girls pursuing him, drawn in by his charm and good looks. He never shied away from them, always speaking kindly, his warm nature making him a magnet for attention. I hated it.

Jealousy wasn’t a feeling I was proud of, but it was hard to avoid when Kenan seemed to have a new admirer every week.

He was nice to them, of course—too nice, in my opinion—and I often found myself seething silently as I watched him chat and laugh with girls who were far prettier and more confident than I was.

But just when I’d start to spiral into insecurity, Kenan would do something small but meaningful, like sending me a text to check in or inviting me over to hang out. It was his way of showing he still cared about me, even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted.

One time, after I had been particularly distant during a group outing, Kenan surprised me by showing up at my house with my favorite snacks and a dumb movie he knew I loved. We spent the entire evening on my couch, laughing until our sides hurt.

In those moments, it was easy to believe that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way about me. But then I’d see him with another girl, and the doubts would creep back in.

The worst of it happened a few months ago. We were at a mutual friend’s birthday party when I saw him talking to a beautiful influencer who had recently moved to our town.

She was everything I wasn’t—gorgeous, sophisticated, and exuding a confidence that seemed effortless. I tried to stay away, to not let it bother me, but when I saw them kissing in a corner of the backyard, it felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest.

I don’t remember much of what happened next. I left the party as quickly as I could, my mind reeling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. The next few weeks were a blur. I distanced myself from Kenan, avoiding him at all costs.

He tried to reach out multiple times, but I either ignored his calls or gave him the cold shoulder whenever he tried to talk to me in person. My heart couldn’t take it. If he had moved on with someone else, then I needed to let him go, even if it hurt like hell.

Kenan, however, was persistent. He’d show up at my house with lame excuses, like borrowing a book or asking for advice on something trivial.

Each time, I’d keep my answers short, making it clear that I didn’t want to talk. But he didn’t give up. It was like he couldn’t understand why I was pulling away, and the frustration was evident on his face.

Finally, one evening, I couldn’t take it anymore. He had shown up at my door again, this time with a sad smile and an apology for not calling ahead. I could see the concern etched on his face, but I was too exhausted to pretend everything was fine.

“Kenan, I really don’t have time for this,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“What happened, Y/N? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. Did I do something wrong?”

His voice was laced with genuine confusion and concern, and it broke my heart even more.

I wanted to scream, to tell him everything, but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I just shook my head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just… I need some space.”

His expression softened as he took a step closer. “Is this about that party? The one where I… kissed that girl?”

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of it, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Why would that matter to me? You’re free to do whatever you want, Kenan.”

“But it does matter to you, doesn’t it?” he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The truth was too painful to admit.

Kenan sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you. That kiss… it didn’t mean anything. I was just trying to be polite. It’s nothing compared to what I feel for you.”

My eyes snapped up to meet his. “What?”

He took a deep breath, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between us. “Y/N, I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you. And then you started avoiding me, and I thought I’d lost my chance.”

I stared at him in disbelief, my mind struggling to process what he was saying. “You… you like me?”

Kenan’s gaze was intense as he nodded. “Yes, I do. More than you know. And seeing you pull away from me has been killing me. I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I never did.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as the weight of his words finally hit me. All this time, I had been doubting his feelings, assuming the worst, when in reality, he had felt the same way about me all along.

“But… you never said anything,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his own voice breaking slightly. “Scared that I wasn’t good enough for you, that you’d realize you could do better. And then when you started pulling away, I thought maybe I was right.”

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They spilled down my cheeks as I closed the gap between us, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug. “You idiot,” I sobbed into his chest. “I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Kenan’s arms tightened around me, holding me close as if he never wanted to let go. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t important to me. You’re the most important person in my life.”

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, just holding each other, letting the years of unspoken feelings and misunderstandings melt away.

When we finally pulled back, Kenan cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away my tears.

“I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore,” he said softly, his eyes locked on mine. “I love you, Y/N. And I’m going to spend every day proving it to you, if you’ll let me.”

My heart swelled with emotion as I nodded, a smile breaking through the tears. “I love you too, Kenan.”

He leaned in then, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was soft and tender, yet filled with all the passion and love we had kept buried for so long.

It was a kiss that spoke of promises and new beginnings, of a future where we no longer had to hide our feelings from each other.

When we finally pulled apart, Kenan rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips.

I laughed softly, the sound light and carefree. “Probably as long as I’ve wanted you to.”

He chuckled, pulling me back into his arms. “Well, now we don’t have to wait anymore. We’re in this together, okay? No more hiding, no more misunderstandings. Just us.”

“Just us,” I repeated, feeling a sense of peace and happiness that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

[bagopucks]

J. Hughes - Can’t Break Up Now [Old Dominion & Megan Moroney]

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Fem!reader

Word Count: 904

Warning(s): talk of major fight, self deprecating thoughts, thoughts of self harm

I promise this fic will not hit the same if you don’t listen to the song while reading. This song quickly became my favorite as soon as I heard it, and I knew it just had to be a Jack fic.

—————————————

You know the color of my coffee

Too many t-shirts in my closet that you bought me

At this point, I can't unlearn the things you've taught me

About myself

It was our biggest fight yet. Jack and I had both said things we didn’t mean. We were scared of the unknown. Scared of a disagreement with our future. Jack had merely said he could easily see himself leaving the city if he ever got traded. But I had a stable job and family here. I couldn’t leave…

I had been frozen in shock when the door slammed shut. He’d left. Perhaps rightfully so. I’d called him horrible things. I broke down on the carpet in the bedroom when he left.

You pick the music when I'm driving

Your mama always takes my side when you fight me

And these days, my dog likes you more than he likes me

You can just tell

Jack hadn’t thought the answer through, and in the end he got too defensive to admit how wrong he was. When he left he didn’t know where he was headed. Jack just knew he was going somewhere. The yelling, the accusations, the hateful words spoken… they’d all been too much.

Jack gripped the steering wheel of his car impossibly tighter than before. His knuckles were white. He wanted to pull the wheel and turn himself into oncoming traffic. He wanted to spend his life with this woman. What had he done?

So what am I supposed to, unlisten to every song written?

Take you out of every melody?

You know my secrets, my demons, and I know your weaknesses

All of your doubts and your dreams

Jack knew she was alone, just as he was. Crying, panicking, asking herself what to do. He just couldn’t bring himself to go back. He didn’t know how to face her. But where were they supposed to go from here? The only way to know was if they could talk it out. Jack knew if they didn’t talk, it had a 100% chance of ending badly. Maybe if they spoke they could fix it.

So we

Can't break up now

No, we

Can't break up now

Four years. Four solid years of loving and growing. There for each other in every scenario. Every rise and fall. Every accomplishment and failure. There was such a deep history, how could they end things?

I hate the thought of starting over

If you left, I know I'd never get closure

Can't imagine letting anyone get closer

Than you are to me, oh

I flicked through photos in my phone, scaling back too many years. If I deleted them, four years of my life would be gone. Four years of so much effort. How could I leave him? I folded my legs beneath myself on our bed. Our bed. I needed Jack. The photos on the wall? His clothes? His towels in my bathroom. His dishes in my cabinets. His movies, his gaming consoles, his furniture. Everything would be gone.

Yeah, I'll battle this out all night 'till we fix it

If the ship's going down, I'm going down with it

Time alone did nothing to ease either mind. So perhaps it was better to be together.

Your friends are my friends

Jack turned his car around the moment he knew what he wanted.

I start where you end

I stood from the bed to leave the room. I decided I’d leave the front door unlocked. Yet when I got there, I couldn’t gain the courage to actually unlock it. Instead I sat against the wall next to the door, waiting to hear his knock. His voice.

We've got too much history

This was the right choice.

So we

Can't break up now

No, we

Can't break up now

We've come too far and we're in too deep

We love too hard just to let it go

So we

Can't break up now, oh

It didn’t take Jack long to drive back to the apartment. Mostly because he was speeding. He’d tried to fix his disheveled appearance before knocking on the door, plastered with fake gold numbers that clacked every time the door shook.

So what am I supposed to, unlisten to every song written?

Take you out of every melody?

I shot up at the sound, no hesitation in my body this time as I unlocked the door and opened it. We were met with one another’s faces, silent, blank. Where would this go?

No, we

Can't break up now

No, we

Can't break up now

“I’m so sorry..” Jack’s broken voice reached my ears. “I love you so much.”

No, we

Can't break up now

No, we

Can't break up now

“God Jack I never should have said any of that.” I fell into his arms, quiet sobs falling from our lips as we held each other tightly.

We've come too far and we're in too deep

We love too hard just to let it go

“Please let me in,” Jack whispered against my neck. It wasn’t even a question as to whether I would or not.

So we

Can't break up now

“Come in, honey.. let’s sit down.” I held onto his hand as I ushered him in, tears streaming down both of our faces.

No, we

Can't break up now, oh

It was better to heal together than alone.

Can't break up now

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[storiesofsvu]

Prince Charming

Anthony DiNozzo x fem!reader Warnings: language, smut eluded to, maybe a tiny hint of insecurity but not really, just anxiety in a brand new relationship. Love Tony? Get added to the taglist here!

At the shrill sound of your alarm your hand darted out faster than you could think, quietly smacking the device to silence it. Doing your best not to shift the bed too much, you cracked an eye open, looking over to Tony in the darkness of the room, watching him for a couple of minutes. He was still sound asleep, laying on his side, arm reaching out to where you’d been cuddled up and he looked unbelievably peaceful. Most unfair of all was just how cute he looked, not needing a single moment of touching up or priming to be his normal dreamy self, completely unlike you.

Which is of course, why you were up early and setting that extra alarm just to make sure you didn’t miss your chance. Moving impossibly slow you slipped from under the blanket, forgoing slippers to not make any extra noise as you tip toed from the bed and into the en suite, silently closing the door behind you. Letting out a soft breath of relief of making it this far, you flicked on one of the small lamps as to not draw attention to yourself yet. As your eyes adjusted and you were met with your reflection you grimaced, not wanting to be bare faced in front of your new boyfriend yet you’d slept in your makeup, a rookie mistake. On any regular night that was bad enough, but considering the activities prior to sleeping the night before, you were incredibly thankful Tony wasn’t seeing you like this.

There was an internal debate over make up wipe versus fully washing your face, part of your brain thinking the water would be too loud, the other half arguing opening a new pack of wipes would be just as bad. In the end you had to settle for both, washing away the dirt and grime while using the wipe to get rid of the smudged eyeliner in the creases of your eyes. Letting your skin dry you quickly pulled a comb through your hair, getting rid of any of the big knots and finger combing through a couple of curls in hopes that they’d be practically perfect beach waves in a moments time. You certainly weren’t going to forget about brushing your teeth, scrubbing as hard and quick as you could to make sure your breath was perfectly fresh before swiping on fresh deodorant. You glanced toward the bedroom, pausing your tasks for a moment to listen and thankfully all you could hear were Tony’s soft snores. You had just enough time to wipe on some tinted moisturizer, hiding the couple of blemishes that were already coming in from sleeping in your makeup and a quick coat of mascara to brighten up your eyes. Finally you grabbed the bralette and matching panties you’d stashed in a drawer before your date, slipping into them, tugging the lacy fabric until it was perfect and with a satisfied smile, you flicked out the light.

Opening the door you hesitated in the doorway, listening to the sound of silence before tip toeing back across the room and sliding back into your side of the bed. As carefully as you could you nestled in beside Tony on your side, adjusting the pillow so your hair wasn’t a rats nest and you could ‘wake up’ facing him looking closer to perfect. You slipped under his outstretched hand and he let out a quiet grunt, arm wrapping tighter around you and pulling you toward him. Your breath caught in your throat for a second until a hint of his cologne hit you and your entire body relaxed, a small smile on your cheeks.

Just as your eyes fluttered shut and you thought you might actually fall back asleep again his lips brushed your forehead, feather light once, and then a second time more firmly. His hand came to brush back a few pieces of your hair, trailing down the side of your face to cup your cheek, thumb stroking across your skin before he kissed you gently.

“You know, you don’t have to do that.” He murmured, voice thick with sleep.

“What?” You feigned a yawn, letting out a soft sigh as you opened your eyes, catching him gazing down at you with a happy grin and you felt a heat creeping into your cheeks.

“Well for starters I’m pretty sure I got you fully naked last night.” His fingers snuck under the strap of your bralette, free hand shifting the blanket down around your waist, “though I will admit I do like the look of this.”

“Got up to pee, felt weird walking around naked.” You fibbed with a shrug and he chuckled, leaving another kiss on your forehead.

“Fixed your make up too.” This time his lips landed on yours again, humming into the kiss, “and I believe I detect hints of peppermint.”

“Ugh. Fine.” You grumbled, swatting against his bare chest, “just stop.”

“Hmm?” He asked, lips pressing against the corner of your mouth, “you want me to stop kissing you? My oh so beautiful girlfriend?”

“I look a mess in the mornings.” You groaned, rolling over in his arms and his grip tightened around you, yanking you back to him.

“No, I’m not letting you go, its too early to get out of bed.” He rubbed his stubble against your neck and you shivered, scrunching up your shoulders in an attempt to get away from him, “absolutely not, you’re stuck here now.” He insisted, his fingers beginning to tickle at your sides, pulling small laughs from you as you struggled in his arms.

“I need to pee!” You squealed, trying to grab hold of at least one of his hands so you could dart from the bed.

“Okay, okay, okay.” He finally surrendered when you got a nice elbow into his ribs and you darted from the bed.

You could feel his eyes on you as you crossed back through the room, lingering on your lace covered frame before you slipped back under the covers and snuggled back into him. Tony eagerly wrapped an arm back around you, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

“Better?” He asked and you giggled.

“Much.”

“Why didn’t you just pee when you were up earlier?” He asked, shifting his head back to look at you and you grimaced.

“I didn’t want to risk waking you up.” You shrugged, chewing on your lip.

“Hey..” his voice softened as his finger curled under your chin, tilting your gaze back up to his eyes, “what’s goin’ on with you this morning? All this being sneaky, cute underwear, minty fresh teeth?”

“I already told you; I look a mess in the mornings.”

“So what? It’s not like I look like prince charming.”

You let out a huff, burrowing your face into his chest, “somehow you always look like prince charming.”

Tony laughed softly, his hand cupping the back of your head, fingertips scratching your scalp soothingly, “I’ll accept the compliment but I really don’t think that’s accurate, you’ve got rose tinted glasses on.”

“Exactly!” You huffed again, “everything’s so new and fresh and fantastic and without any flaws. I couldn’t risk waking up with my face all smeared, messy hair looking like a troll. That’d scare you away.”

“Oh sweetheart….” His hand curled around your cheek, turning your face up to see his smiling one, “I don’t care if you think you look like Godzilla when you wake up, you’re my beautiful Godzilla.”

“Nice analogy.” You half grumbled and he laughed.

“I mean it.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” He kissed the tip of your nose, “baby you have me completely and totally wrapped around your finger, you know that? I don’t care if I wake up and you’re snoring away with drool crusted in the corners of your mouth, I’m still smitten.”

“Ew..” Your nose crinkled and he laughed.

“I mean it.” He caressed your cheek softly, gazing down at you and you felt yourself utterly melt at the admiration pouring from his eyes, he wasn’t kidding, he was completely smitten and nothing else mattered but waking up next to you.

“You’re such a softie.” You giggled, leaning up to kiss him as your lips curved into a grin, a sense of joy spreading through you as you felt his lips do the same.

“And this softie meant it, it’s way too early to get out of bed.” He wrapped a sturdy arm around you, pulling you tight to him and you let out a little squeal as he practically crushed you into his chest.

“Well I’m awake already…” you mumbled against his torso, feeling the vibration as he laughed, rolling over to grab the tv remote.

“Pick something.” He suggested, handing it over to you as he let his grip relax a little bit.

You let out a happy sigh, half curled into his side as his arm stayed around you and you began to flick through the channels until you found something satisfactory. Tony’s hand trailed up and down your back, occasionally fidgeting with the lace of the bralette, twisting it around his fingers before letting it go and moving his hand upwards to play with your hair.

“I could get used to mornings like this.” He murmured softly and you hummed happily, turning your face to his.

“Me too.” You smiled and his hand cupped your cheek again, moving in to kiss you tenderly, his lips moving with grace against your own until you pulled away and his brow furrowed.

“What?”

“You may look like prince charming… but you have terrible morning breath.” You winced slightly and then burst out into a giggle and the feigned aghast expression on his face.

“Oh come on, the one time I forget to brush before bed.”

“Hey, dentists orders, twice daily.”

“I was a little distracted.” He smirked, free hand gently groping at your ass, “how was I supposed to be thinking of teeth health with someone as stunning as you next to me.” He leant in for another kiss but was met with your finger tip pressing him away.

“Tony….”

“Fine.” He playfully rolled his eyes, choosing instead to leave a kiss on the top of your head before heading to the bathroom to take care of the situation. The sound of running water echoed into the room and you let out a very happy sigh, sinking deeper down into the pillows as happiness radiated through your entire body.

Yes, you certainly could get used to mornings like these.

_______________________

@fandom-princess-forevermore @cabotfan42 @alexxavicry @rainbowelshrhian @princessgemini98 @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @hbkswife @heidss @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @happygirl-0408 @boimlers-gonna-boim @tinyprettyangel @happygirl-0408 @winchesterbeau @alexxavicry @deanwinchestersgirl87

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ASTRONAUT! GOJO x MISSION CONTROL! FEM READER

Your job description entails taking care of one (1) astronaut on his way to Mars. It doesn’t say anything about falling in love with him. 

wc — 1.6k

tags — the beauty of space (and Gojo Satoru), rom com, fluff

When you’re assigned to Gojo Satoru, the first thing you hear is ‘good luck’. It’s Nanami who says it. You suppose he would have strong feelings, being one of the few men who were going up there with him. 

They’re in the news constantly now. Of course they would be - brave pioneers of the new frontier. The first men to attempt a Mars landing.

Even for you, who sees them every day, it’s hard not to get caught up in the mythos of it. Glory burns bright and beautiful around them, a halo born of the knowledge that they’ll someday be in history books. Maybe you’ll be there too, a footnote riding on the coattails of their fame. 

They take care of humanity’s future, and you take care of them. Mission Control doesn’t have the esteem the astronauts do, but your jobs are just as important. You’re proud of the work you do. 

Though sometimes, your work is just silly. He is, anyway. 

“Helloooooo? Mission Control, come in.” 

“You’re not supposed to use the main line for personal matters, Satoru,” you remind him, a smile twitching at your lips. Director Utahime thinks you’re too soft on him, but you can’t help it. It must be terrible to be stuck up there for months, even if he says he loves it. 

You’ve seen his interviews. Gojo Satoru, golden boy of the astrophysics department at one of the most prestigious universities in the world. A prodigy, the youngest ever Nobel laureate for his work in quantum particles and space time. 

When he first declared that he would be going on the Mars mission, the world erupted in an uproar. He had transformed an esoteric field of dusty archives and chalk formulas into something real people cared about and tuned into his radio show to hear, even if it originally started because people loved his charming face. 

It was too risky. No one wanted to lose such a young talent to the vast and uncaring cruelty of space. 

Gojo heard these concerns, shut down his radio show, and appeared outside headquarters the next day without an appointment.  

Some say he’s pushy. Some say he’s determined. Whatever they think, one thing is true. Gojo Satoru gets results, which is why administration always lets things slide when it comes to him. Even when he clutters up the main communication line trying to talk to you. 

“If you wanted to get me alone, you could just say so,” he jokes, before he switches over to your private comm. 

“Mhm,” you hum. You’re distracted, doing your daily check on his vitals. 

“Looking at my heart again?” 

“Yep! All good, though I’m going to ask you to take a double dose of vitamin c tomorrow.” 

“Come on,” he moans. “They’re terrible. You’d think with all the scientists we have they’d manage to make it taste a little more like actual oranges.” 

“You know how hard it is to make things that last in space,” you tell him. 

The thing about Gojo’s genius is that it’s hard for him to understand others. He can do anything if he puts his mind to it, so hearing ‘no’ and ‘it’s impossible’ simply doesn’t compute to him. It’s why he started his radio show, or so he told you. He dreams of teaching people to see the world through his eyes. 

His beautiful eyes. 

Your cheeks heat. That’s not something you should be thinking about, but lately, it’s been getting harder and harder. You spent almost all your time with him, after all. 

As much as you try to be professional, you’re not immune to his stunning beauty. You know the voice on the other end of the line belongs to an man whose features are nothing short of otherworldly. He could be a model if he wasn’t an astronaut. He could be anything, actually, but you know why he chose this. 

The first time you heard Gojo speak on space, you fell in love a little bit. With him and with the cosmos. 

He’s the one who teaches you that the stars we see are already dead and gone. That light and time are intertwined in ways you didn’t understand before, that the little pinpricks of gold in the distance have fizzled out years ago and are reaching you now only as a eulogy. 

You tuned into his radio show on a whim, wanting to get to know the man you’ll be working with better. You stayed because his love for the universe is magnetic. 

Gojo’s favorite thing about space is infinity. He was a proud supporter of the alien theory. There had to be some life out there, in that great vastness. Anything is possible in space, he says. There might even be a planet where he can float or unleash devastating destruction with just a flick of his fingers. 

Before long, you were listening to his voice explain worm holes and cosmic inflation any spare moment you got. He was with you on the commute to work and in the shower while you scrubbed your hair. It was Gojo’s voice that lulled you to sleep every night, slow and relaxing in his special bedtime series. 

So you’d known him long before you met him. In your first real interaction, where he was so quintessentially Gojo in a way that completely put Utahime off, you laughed. His eyes widened, surprised by your reaction, then his lips split in a toothy smile. 

“At least one of you has a sense of humor,” he quipped, making a lifelong enemy of Utahime and a lifelong friend of you. 

You’re the only one who can put up with him, so when Gojo had been chosen for Project Ares, you landed an adjacent job as his handler in Mission Control. You’d known you’d work on Project Ares for a while now, but not that you’d be working so closely with him, or that it would feel so right. 

Of course you would be his handler. It was as natural as Gojo becoming an astronaut, which you’d always known he’d manage. It’s Gojo, after all. He would go change the future of humanity, and you’d keep him tethered to Earth. 

It had been a relatively easy few years, for a space mission anyway. Anything short of death was considered optimal in those conditions. You hadn’t realized you’d miss him like this, however. All this time, and so much of it was only his voice. In a way, it was reminiscent of the days before you’d met, hearing a beautiful mind work through the radio. 

“Oh, Houston?” Gojo calls through the line, singsong. “We have a problem.” 

His lighthearted tone doesn’t deceive you. You’re up in a second. 

“Satoru? Satoru? Come on, talk to me. What is it? You okay up there?” 

“I’m experiencing heart pains,” he says, letting out a low grunt of pain. “Palpitations.” 

Your blood runs cold. 

Space is Gojo’s passion. You’re happy he gets to pursue it. But in these moments, you wish he’d never heard of astrophysics because in space, you can’t reach him. If he gets hurt, all you can do is talk to him. 

He’s said he appreciates it. 

“It’s nice, you know? Gives me something to listen to other than the voices already in my head.” 

“Should I schedule a virtual visit to the psychiatrist, Satoru?” 

You joke around, but you know that’s all you can be for him. A voice in his helmet. 

Your hands are creeping towards the switch that’ll open your communication line to Nanami. At least if something happens, Nanami can actually get to him. 

“Fuck,” Gojo whispers. You freeze. You’ve never heard him talk like this, his voice low and raspy with pain. “It hurts.” 

“Tell me where it hurts, honey,” you murmur back, your voice instinctively lowering into something syrupy and sweet. Comfort comes naturally to you. You’ve always been a doting personality. It’s part of why they chose you for this assignment, other than, as you learn later, Gojo’s insistence that you be his line to Earth. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“It aches, sort of?” Gojo says. “Happens when I hear- ugh.”

“Hear? Hear what? If you can’t tell me, I can’t help you, sweetheart.” You have no idea where these pet names are coming from, but they just burst out of your mouth, as if tenderness for him is uncontrollable. Is it because you’re scared it’ll end like this? The chance of whatever you feel for him dying unspoken terrifies you. You wish you’d told him sooner. 

“Happens when I hear your voice,” he says. Is that nervousness you detect in his voice? 

Suddenly you have a very clear idea of what he’s playing at. 

“Satoru,” you say very calmly. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to call Nanami and you can explain it to him.” 

A flurry of panicked noises on the other end. “No, wait, no, don’t do that! I can explain. Just. Give me a second.” 

Ragged breathing. 

“Okay,” he admits. “I didn’t think this through.”

“Satoru.” 

“I’m sorry! You know how I am!” 

You do. Which is why you’re not immediately calling Utahime over to reprimand him. 

“I was going to wait,” he says. “This isn’t very romantic.” 

“I would say that’s more because I thought you were going to die from a heart attack in space than anything else, but go on.” 

“Sorry,” he says. “I love you.”

You were half-expecting it. After all, he’s right - you do know him. Somehow his straightforwardness still catches you off guard so badly your knee jerks and slams right into your desk. It’ll leave a nasty bruise when you check in the shower later. Most things are too soft to be picked up by your mic, but that was definitely loud enough. 

“…You okay?” Gojo asks, hesitantly. 

“When you come back to Earth,” you explain to him in clipped tones, “I am going to gut you. Then we are going to go on a date.”