#there is just so much life and emotion in this piece and it warms my heart | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

respectfulrebel · 21 hours ago

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LEVI AND SAKURA??????? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I will never ever get over this story. It will forever be etched in my heart and soul. As if samurai!noah wasn’t already the perfect man, dad samurai!noah?????????? 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I lost count how many times I went AWWWWWW 🥺🥺🥺🥺 while reading this.

Those two have been through literal hell to be together and to fight for their love and build this beautiful family and seeing them so happy and fulfilled is literally healing my soul. Reading this chapter was like a warm embrace, like sunshine on my skin during a warm spring day, like the smell of flowers walking through a rose garden, like the most delicious and comforting cup of tea 🥺 Pure happiness.

And naturally with the wholesome happiness, come the tears

I had given him happiness, the kind he'd been raised to believe he'd never deserve.

I can’t even articulate the emotions this one sentence pulled from me. There is nothing more heartbreakingly beautiful than a tortured soul finally getting their happy ending and believing they deserve the happiness they’ve been given.

…my soldier, my warrior.

My Samurai.

I will need some time to recover from this.

I will never get tired of telling you how talanted you are and how grateful I am that you share your stories with us. Thank you for providing a little piece of sanctuary to escape to for a couple of hours when the whirlwind of life starts to feel a little too overwhelming 🤍

P.S. Okay I lied, I will share some of the moments that made me go AWWWWWW 🥺🥺🥺

"Strawberry?" he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

"Strawberry," I confirmed, smiling. I brought the fruit to his mouth, and he took a small, eager bite, juice dribbling down his chin. I wiped it away with my thumb. "One more?" | offered, holding up another.

He nodded, this time more vigorously as he leaned in for a second bite, his tiny hands grabbing at mine to get the strawberry faster into his mouth.

🥺

"Prettiest girl l've ever seen."

The callback to that moment years ago on the training ground????? 🥺🥺🥺

"Me?

"You," Noah began, poking her cheek, "are the prettiest babygirl l've ever seen."

🥺

"You look beautiful today," he whispered.

"You said that yesterday," I retorted, but the grin spread through my face nonetheless.

Noah shrugged, still leaning to me.

"I am merely stating facts."

🥺

Sakura seemed to sense this as well, for she paused midway and tilted her head to peer toward the open kitchen, where her Papa was busy pouring tea. Cleverly, she veered toward a cabinet, hoping to slip out of his sight. It was a smart tactic, but despite her stealth, the soft patter of her tiny hands and knees on the wooden floor soon caught Noah's attention. Pausing, he raised his brows at the suspicious sound. The noise came again, like a small animal sneaking through the room, then silence. A grin tugged at Noah's lips.

Moments later, a tiny hand peeked out from behind a piece of furniture, and Noah stifled a laugh as he resumed his work with the tea.

Without looking up, he said, "I can see you."

The instant he spoke, Sakura knew she'd been discovered. Her hands slapped the floor with renewed urgency as she crawled faster.

Setting down the kettle on the kitchen island, Noah stepped out and scooped her up just before she could make her grand escape. Her little body squirmed in his arms.

I loved this scene soooo much 🥺🥺🥺 her determination 😭😭😭

As the adults chatted, I didn't notice when Levi, responding to Sakura's insistent whispers, dipped his finger into my tea to offer her a few more drops.

Little angel 😭🥺

"Papa!" he called. Then announced proudly, "I Samurai!"

Sakura, his biggest fan, started clapping her hands as she sat on the grass, hair messy and her face alight with admiration for her brother. Noah chuckled, kneeling down beside Levi, his own eyes twinkling.

🥺🥺🥺

Once she was fed and fully awake, I reminded her that Levi was still asleep, so I carried her with me back to the master bedroom, where Noah was still tangled in the sheets, lying on his stomach, shirtless, with one hand tucked beneath a pillow.

"Papa," Sakura called.

Just hearing her say his name was enough to coax a smile from him, even with his eyes still closed. I let her climb onto the bed, and she crawled right over to him, nudging his tattooed shoulder with a soft insistence.

So soft 🥺

"Pretty good with belts and knots, aren't I?"

Not in front of grandma 🤭🤭🤭

With his arms wrapped around me, he held a box of berries in front of us and began feeding both of us, occasionally rubbing a blueberry over my lips to tease me, pulling it back with before I could catch it. When I gave his thigh a playful pinch, he yelped, and I turned my head to meet his gaze with a glare that said, "You deserved that."

🥺

"They've witnessed far filthier things than that, done by you," he teased right back.

🤭🤭🤭

the unmaking of a warrior | epilogue pt. 2

word count: 10k | reading time: 40mins. aprox. | series masterpost | my works ✨

Tags & trigger warnings: this takes place 2 years after the events that took place in epilogue part 1. Established relationship, dad!noah, angst, fluff, pregnancy, birth giving (flashback), mentions/descriptions of blood, sexual innuendos regarding bondage/rope play, skinny dipping, sexual content including oral sex (fem. rec.), p. in v. unprotected, creampie). Fluff, fluff, and a lot of fluff because dad!noah dad!noah dad!noah 🥹 can't get enough of him. I've wanted to write dad!noah for ages and he's finally here. And again, I've never given birth, i've never been pregnant, so excuse my lack of accuracy on that matter. If there's anything I've missed, please let me know. x

Nearly two years later

Winter had lingered longer than usual, but at last, spring had arrived, bringing with it a burst of color and warmth. The sun was gentle, neither too hot nor too faint, while a soft breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers.

As soon as the weather brightened, Noah and I began spending more time outdoors—whether it was venturing deep into the valley, lounging by the river’s edge, or simply relaxing in our garden.

This morning, I sat on a blanket spread across the grass in the front yard, with Trouble resting behind me. Her large, furry body made for a perfect backrest as I watched Levi carefully pick flowers and place them all over Trouble’s fur. At first, Trouble lay still, tolerating Levi’s enthusiastic flower-decorating, but as the pile of blooms grew, she huffed in mild protest. Once, she even let out a low growl, and I gently reminded her that he was just a baby, before telling Levi to give her a little break.

“But she looks so pretty!” he insisted, his version of “pretty” sounding more like “piuti”.

“She’s already got enough flowers on her,” I said. “Why don’t you put some on Mommy instead?”

“Yes!” he shouted, delighted by the idea. He wobbled over to me on unsteady legs, and began placing the flowers carefully on my hair.

His shoulder-length brown hair, which we had only trimmed a couple of times since he was born, had been neatly tied up in a bun earlier that morning. But after hours of running and playing a few soft strands had escaped and now hung loosely, framing his sun-kissed face. He looked so much like Noah.

When one of the flowers fell into my lap, I picked it up and held it out to him.

“Do you know what this one is called?”

He took a quick glance and shook his head before resuming his task of adorning my hair.

“It’s a daisy,” I told him.

“Daisy,” he repeated slowly.

I reached for the basket sitting nearby, filled with a mix of toys and snacks. Levi’s attention was quickly diverted when I picked a box that contained fresh strawberries cut into tiny pieces. Their sweet fragance filled the air when I removed the lid. I picked one out and held it out to him.

“Strawberry?” he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Strawberry,” I confirmed, smiling. I brought the fruit to his mouth, and he took a small, eager bite, juice dribbling down his chin. I wiped it away with my thumb. “One more?” I offered, holding up another.

He nodded, this time more vigorously as he leaned in for a second bite, his tiny hands grabbing at mine to get the strawberry faster into his mouth.

With a full mouth, he mumbled something incoherent, his eyes darting to the basket, no doubt looking for more treats. I reached inside and handed him one of his toys. He eagerly accepted a wooden cart and started to roll it back and forth over my legs. At least that was better than him rolling it on Trouble’s fur and igniting her fury.

I spotted movement on the path leading from the village. A tall and slender figure made itself visible as it approached us, and that familiar flutter in my stomach came back. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of my husband.

Noah was walking toward us. He looked so effortlessly striking wearing all black, his katana at his side and a radiant smile meant just for us. His hair, tied back in a loose bun, was longer than it’d ever been, and one loose strand was swaying gently with the breeze.

He wasn’t alone.

Nestled against his hip was Sakura, one of her small hands on his shoulder, grapping tightly at his clothing. Though she was Levi’s twin and nearly two, she couldn’t yet walk, but that didn’t slow her down—she was happy to crawl everywhere. Her brown hair was tied up in a tiny bun to match her Papa’s, and it gave her an air of determination and pride. She loved mimicking him in everything. She was a courageous and bold little one, just like Levi.

“Look who’s coming,” I said to Levi, drawing his attention toward the path.

Levi’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face as he spotted Noah and his sister.

“Papa!” he called out, his small body bouncing with excitement. He started to run toward his father but stopped when I pulled him back toward the blanket, keeping him close.

As Noah reached us, he bent down just as Sakura squirmed in his arms, extending her body and arms toward me. I scooped her up, cradling her close and planting a kiss on her cheek, her little nuzzle against my chest filling my heart.

With his arms now free, Noah crouched lower and scratched Trouble’s fur.

“What happened to you?” He teased. “You look more colorful than usual.”

Trouble huffed, but as soon as Noah was laughing, she lifted her head to lick his hand. Noah smiled, rubbing her head before turning his focus to Levi.

“Hey, little warrior,” he said warmly. “How you doing?” He swept Levi up with ease and tossed him into the air, eliciting shrieks of joy. Levi giggled uncontrollably, his laughter filling the air as Noah caught him and repeated the throw.

Once Levi settled, he pointed excitedly at Trouble, his eyes sparkling.

“Look, Papa! I put flowers on her.”

“I saw it. That’s a ton of flowers.”

Levi beamed proudly, then, as if remembering something important, pointed to me.

“I put flowers on Mommy, too!”

Noah’s eyes shifted, softening as they landed on me. I was holding Sakura in my arms, who was eagerly nibbling on a piece of strawberry now. Our gazes met, and in that moment, for just a couple of seconds, everything else faded. The warmth in Noah’s eyes was as if it had just struck him again how lucky he was to have me by his side, as his wife. His gaze held mine, filled with both admiration and love, and I felt the familiar heat rise to my cheeks.

“She looks soooo priti!” Levi shouted, his voice high with excitement.

Noah’s lips parted.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

His words sent a rush of warmth through me, and despite all the years we’d spent together, I still found myself flushing under his brown eyes.

But the spell was broken by Sakura’s small voice. She raised her hand and waved it, her tiny fingers catching Noah’s attention.

“Me?!”

Noah sat down beside me on the blanket, letting Levi wander off to pick more flowers.

“You,” Noah began, poking her cheek, “are the prettiest babygirl I’ve ever seen.”

Content, Sakura gave him one satisfied smile, a bit shy at her Papa’s compliment as her cheeks tinted pink and she defleated in my lap.

Noah laughed. I would never get tired of the way he smiled at our children—of the joy they brought him.

A couple of minutes later, distracted by her brother’s doings, Sakura crawled out of my arms and followed Levi, and Noah and I both watched our twins explore their little world.

“Was she okay?” I asked Noah without taking my eyes of the children.

“She was as good as ever,” he told me. “Sat still on her spot during most of the training session, clapping everytime someone lifted their sword. Pretty sure she’s ready for a nap now.”

Seeing her playing lively with Levi raised some doubts.

When I turned to look at Noah, I caught him staring intently at me. A second after, he was leaning over me, tucking some hairs behind my ear and kissing the corner of my mouth.

“You look beautiful today,” he whispered.

“You said that yesterday,” I retorted, but the grin spread through my face nonetheless.

Noah shrugged, still leaning to me.

“I am merely stating facts.”

I tsked my tongue and placed a hand on Noah’s jaw to bring him to me and kiss him on the lips. Right as I was doing so, we heard a yelp.

Sakura, who had been crawling with purpose, always trying to catch up with her more mobile brother, had stopped by a bush. With her tiny hands she had tried to reach up for a flower perched higher than she could comfortably grasp. And as she tried to stand on wobbling legs, she toppled over, a small gasp escaping her as she fell back onto the grass.

Noah was up in an instant, rushing to her side before I could even react, his speed startling in its swiftness. Levi stopped what he was doing to look between his baby sister and his father with wide eyes,

I exhaled, seeing Noah scoop Sakura up into his arms, checking her. She wasn’t hurt, just surprised. I watched Noah’s face contorn in concern, and I was suddenly thrown back in time, to the day the twins were born.

We hadn’t known I was carrying two babies. After I had given birth to Sakura earlier than expected, we thought the ordeal was over. I had been sore, exhausted, and overwhelmed with joy as I held our daughter in our arms and then when I passed her to Noah. But before I could relish much in the moment, my screams pierced through the room, Sakura had been taken out from Noah’s arms, and he’d been ushered out.

To this day, it was still the worst and best day of Noah’s life.

He thought he was going to lose me, unaware that the pain that was seizing me had to do with the fact that there was still another baby inside me, desperate to come into the world. Levi had been bigger than Sakura from birth. Noah held this belief that he’d been taking care of his sister inside my womb and he had been a gentleman and let her out first. However, the contractions that came with him were at full force. The surprise and intensity of it all left me feeling drained, my body struggling to cope. The second birth had been arduous, and by the time Levi was born, I was too weak to stay conscious. I had also lost a lot of blood.

After Levi’s birth, Rika had rushed to find Noah.

“What happened?” Noah had asked, frozen as they placed his babygirl back in his arms, but the familiar cry he heard didn’t come from the baby he was holding. His mind was racing. He looked around. Then, he spotted Milla not too far. She was holding his babygirl. In a heartbeat, the truth hit him. He was holding a boy. There were two babies. Twins.

His gaze flickered back to me immediately, terrified of what he would see. He spotted me, pale and unmoving on the futon. Panic filled his chest as he stared at the blood beneath me.

“She is… She’s going to be okay, right?” he asked, because there was no other possible question—or outcome. His voice had barely been steady as he held our son close, unable to tear his eyes from my motionless form.

Rika reassured him.

“She’s going to be okay. She lost a lot of blood, but she’ll recover. She just needs time. In the meantime, you need to be with your children.”

As she said this, Rika placed Sakura into Noah’s free arm. He stood there, arms full, cradling both babies at once. He looked down at them, their tiny faces nestled against his chest, his long arms able to hold both of them securely. His heart swelled with joy at the sight of his twins—one boy, one girl—but worry gnawed at him because I wasn’t there to share the moment.

Noah carried them over to where I lay, sinking down beside me on the futon. He sat quietly, overwhelmed by this mixture of happiness and fear. Our children drifted into sleep, their little breaths soft and steady. Soon, we were alone. The four of us—my family.

Hours passed, and eventually, I began to stir. My body ached, and my vision was blurry at first. I blinked, trying to focus, my head heavy on the pillow. The first thing I saw was Noah, sitting by my side, his face drawn with exhaustion and relief. He was whispering softly, his voice low and calming, but it wasn’t until I tilted my head slightly that I realized who he was speaking to.

There, lying beside me on white blankets, were two wide-eyed babies. Both were staring up at their Papa, their small bodies wrapped in soft cloth. The boy yawned, his tiny hands stretching out as he blinked at the world. Sakura’s dark eyes were fixed on Noah’s face, her little fingers twitching as if already reaching for him.

I blinked, disbelief flooding my mind. Two. There were two.

“Noah...?”

He turned to me, relief spreading through him like a soothing balm as he realized I was awake. His smile was tender, and though his words were quiet, the weight of them was heavy with love.

“We have twins,” he said, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it himself. “We have two of them.”

As Noah sat back down beside me, holding Sakura close, Levi resumed his flower hunt, and I cherished the fact that our children had been born in a safe space where they could explore and grow to be who they wanted to be. Noah’s presence beside me had always felt like an anchor, always there when I needed him, but since he’d become a father, his attention and support had doubled. He caught my eye and smiled, as if reading my thoughts. I smiled back, feeling that familiar tug of affection, the one that never seemed to fade, even after everything we’d been through.

Just as I reached over to brush a stray petal from Levi’s hair, a soft rustling behind us caught our attention and I saw Rika approaching.

Noah stiffened slightly, always on alert. Rika smiled warmly, hands clasped together as she approached the front yard.

“There’s someone here to see you,” she announced. She lingered just long enough for my heart to stutter with curiosity—and a hint of worry. Sensing the suspense, she quickly added, “It’s your grandmother.”

The tension eased from my shoulders. Beside me, Noah chuckled, shaking his head.

“Always keeping us on our toes,” he said with a grin, glancing down at Sakura, who perked up at the mention of a visitor, at the same time as Trouble thumped her tail excitedly.

Grandma had always been a frequent visitor, long before Noah and I were even married. I’d tried to convince her to move into the Sanctuary, but she loved her little house in the village too much. It wasn’t far, and she promised to visit often—and she did. Her visits had only become more frequent after learning she would soon be a great-grandmother, a title that seemed to fill her with boundless happiness.

Noah stood, settling Sakura back onto the blanket next to me.

“I’ll go give her a hand,” he offered, knowing Grandma could use the extra support these days, now that she leaned on a walking stick. She’d probably appreciate Noah’s arm to hold onto.

As Noah walked toward the path from the center of the Sanctuary to greet her, I leaned back on my hands, watching him go. He moved with that quiet strength, always so sure of himself, even when the world around us felt uncertain. It was hard to believe how far we’d come since the chaos of the twins’ birth—the exhaustion, the fear, and then the joy that had followed. Now, here we were, with two vibrant, curious children and the life we’d always dreamed of.

Sakura, back to her usual determined self, began to crawl toward Levi, her hands gripping the grass as she tried to keep up with him. Levi, busy with his bouquet of freshly picked flowers, spotted her coming and toddled over to meet her halfway, offering a dandelion he’d plucked from the ground.

Inside the house, the air was warm and filled with the comforting scent of tea brewing. Noah was in the kitchen, preparing cups for everyone while the children played on the floor. I sat across from my grandmother, listening to her stories, her voice like a soothing melody.

Before long, Sakura set her sights on Noah’s katana, which hung temptingly on its stand by the entrance. Her little body wobbled on all fours as she began her mission and crawled toward it, her eyes gleaming with determination. I watched her from my seat, knowing Noah wouldn’t let her get far. Sakura seemed to sense this as well, for she paused midway and tilted her head to peer toward the open kitchen, where her Papa was busy pouring tea. Cleverly, she veered toward a cabinet, hoping to slip out of his sight. It was a smart tactic, but despite her stealth, the soft patter of her tiny hands and knees on the wooden floor soon caught Noah’s attention. Pausing, he raised his brows at the suspicious sound. The noise came again, like a small animal sneaking through the room, then silence. A grin tugged at Noah’s lips.

Moments later, a tiny hand peeked out from behind a piece of furniture, and Noah stifled a laugh as he resumed his work with the tea.

Without looking up, he said, “I can see you.”

The instant he spoke, Sakura knew she’d been discovered. Her hands slapped the floor with renewed urgency as she crawled faster.

Setting down the kettle on the kitchen island, Noah stepped out and scooped her up just before she could make her grand escape. Her little body squirmed in his arms.

“Not so fast,” he teased, tickling her belly.

Sakura’s giggles echoed through the room, filling it with a joyful energy that made all of us smile. Her small hands immediately reached towards his katana again, her fingers curling in the air toward the glimmering handle as she babbled the word: “Kitana, kitana!”

“That’s Papa’s. You’ll have to wait a little longer.”

Noah bounced her in his arms as he carried her back to the living room.

Grandma, who had been pleasantly observing, had a spark in her wrinkled eyes as she laughed.

“She’s going to learn her way with a katana before she learns to walk, isn’t she?”

I couldn’t say no to that, looking at our daughter, whose fascination with her father’s sword was growing by the day. Noah set Sakura on my lap, her tiny hands still making grabby motions toward the weapon in the distance. She was relentless.

“She’s got a strong will, that’s for sure,” Noah said, watching her as she tried to wiggle free from my grasp to make another attempt for the katana. “Just like her Mama,” Noah added, casting me a glance before heading back to the kitchen to retrieve the tray with tea and snacks.

“With a father like you, it’s no wonder she’s drawn to swords,” I teased back.

Noah chuckled and finished preparing the tea, the soft, floral scent of jasmine filling the air as he brought the tray over to the low table in the center of the room. The sliding doors were open, and a breeze swept through the space, carrying with it the scent of the garden and the occasional sound of Trouble chasing chickens outside.

“Levi, come sit with us and Grandma,” I called softly, watching Levi abandon the block tower he was building. He ran over with his usual burst of energy, his brown hair messy and strands hanging loose from his earlier play.

Sakura was already seated beside Noah, nestled against big pillows that propped her up comfortably. Her eyes were wide with curiosity as she watched her Papa take a sip from his tea. Noah handed me my cup. He smiled knowingly as he passed a cup to Grandma, then turned his attention to Sakura.

“You want some?” he asked. Immediately, he dipped his index finger into his cup and offered her a tiny drop.

Sakura leaned forward, her tiny pink lips pursing as she tasted the warm tea from the tip of his finger. Her eyes lit up, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course she loved it—she was my daughter after all.

Noah glanced at me.

“Just like her Mama.”

After a while, with Levi nestled between Sakura and me, enjoying some snacks, I kept an eye on them, waiting for any sign they might be ready for a nap. Despite the day’s activities, however, both twins seemed wide awake. As the adults chatted, I didn’t notice when Levi, responding to Sakura’s insistent whispers, dipped his finger into my tea to offer her a few more drops.

It was Noah who caught him.

With a slight frown, he said, “Levi, stop giving tea to your sister.”

“But she likes it,” Levi replied earnestly.

“You won’t like it when she gets all wired and keeps you up later,” Noah warned gently.

Levi blinked, likely not fully understanding his father’s point, but he obediently wiped his finger on his shirt and muttered a soft, sweet “Papa says no more” to Sakura, who looked at him with hopeful eyes.

A while later, with the twins still wide awake and showing no signs of tiring, Noah decided to take them out to the garden to burn off some energy.

“Come on, you two, let’s tire you up,” he said with a grin, scooping them up. The twins squealed with delight as he hoisted them up high.

Once they were in the garden, he set each of them on one of his shoulders, holding them steady with his hands.

“Papa! ‘s very high!” Levi exclaimed.

“This is called weight training,” Noah told them, pretending to strain under their combined weight. Levi and Sakura giggled, clutching his hair for balance as he wobbled dramatically.

“Hey! Easy on the hair, little minx.”

He pretended Sakura was about to slip off his shoulder, making her squeal, then shifted his balance as if Levi were the one tipping off the other side. Their peals of laughter echoed across the yard. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard—made all the more precious because it was Noah who was causing it.

Noah held them firmly, with the practiced ease of a father—and a Samurai, of course— who would never let them fall. Eventually, he set them down, and the two darted off across the grass. A short while later, Levi discovered a fallen wooden branch, smooth and straight—perfect for his purposes. His small fingers gripped it with a sense of destiny, and he swung it around with wide, serious eyes.

“Papa!” he called. Then announced proudly, “I Samurai!”

“Show me your stance, little warrior.”

Levi straightened up, glancing at his father with fierce concentration, and clumsily attempted to imitate Noah’s stance, one foot forward, knees slightly bent. His little face was full of focus as he held the stick in front of him, eyes narrowed. Noah bit back laughter, unable to hide his delight at the sight of his son’s determined expression.

“You look like a real samurai, Levi,” Noah praised, giving him an approving nod. “But remember,” he added, “a samurai must have patience and strength.”

Levi nodded solemnly, gripping his wooden “sword” with purpose.

“And they look after their baby sisters!”

Noah nodded. “They look after the girls they love,” he corrected.

Sakura crawled over at full speed to join them bouncing on her hands and knees with enthusiasm. Noah, still kneeling, extended his arm to offer her support in case she wanted to try and stand up.

From our seats in the living room, Grandma and I watched the scene unfolding in the garden. The sliding doors were open to the porch, and the breeze carried the sounds of Noah’s laughter and the twins’ gleeful squeals inside. We sipped our tea as we observed the little family scene—my little family.

“Noah is so devoted to the children,” Grandma commented, “and to you. It makes me so happy to see this man so committed to his family.”

“I can only imagine how devoted he’ll be when there’s three of them,” I said, almost absently.

Grandma turned to me, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Three? What do you—?”

I gently placed a hand over my stomach.

“I think there’s a third one on the way,” I whispered.

“Oh, darling!” she exclaimed, immediately wrapping me in her arms. I hugged her back, feeling her love and excitement surround me. As I glanced over her shoulder, I caught sight of Noah looking toward me from the garden, a quizzical expression on his face. I waved him off with a quick shake of my hand, signaling that everything was fine.

“Does he know?” Grandma asked, pulling back and searching my face with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.

“Not yet,” I replied. “I don’t want him to start worrying about me or the baby too soon. He’d only stress himself out and live in a constant state of panic.”

A soft, delicate smile spread across her face as she nodded in understanding. One last glance down at my stomach, and her eyes showed a new light as she processed the happy news.

“You’ve built such a precious family,” she noted, squeezing my hand. “This is what you deserve.”

I nodded, feeling the truth of her words settle in my heart. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of.

My attention drifted back to the garden, where I spotted Sakura crawling across the grass again, her little body wiggling as she explored every inch of the ground. Levi toddled after her, a tiny, determined protector, keeping an eye on her every move as he held the stick in his hand. When Sakura reached out for a small, spiky stone, Levi waddled over, furrowing his brow in concern.

“No, sis! Don’t touch!” he scolded in his limited but emphatic vocabulary, holding out his hand to stop her.

Despite her brother’s warnings, Sakura only giggled, flashing him a mischievous smile before crawling even faster, forcing Levi to chase after her. His little legs moved quickly, stumbling slightly but with determination as he followed her across the garden. Watching the two of them, Noah leaned back on the grass, a proud smile spreading across his face as he witnessed the bond between our kids.

When Sakura crawled back to her Papa, Noa brushed a stray wisp of hair from her face.

“Why don’t we practice your walking skills a little bit, huh? Enough crawling around,” he said, tapping her tiny nose. “Until you can stand on your own, babygirl, how do you plan on holding a katana?”

Sakura probably only caught the word “katana”. Nonetheless, she raised her arms up to him, and with his help, she planted her feet in front of her. Levi, always eager to be part of his sister’s milestones, scrambled to her side. He grasped her small hand. Noah placed his huge ones around her little body.

“Come, sis,” Levi encouraged. He tugged her hand forward, his eyes never leaving hers as he and Noah helped her up and steadied her. Sakura wobbled, almost losing her balance. She took a shaky step, then another.

Levi coaxed her along with a beaming smile, glowing with pride at his sister’s efforts.

“You’re doing it, sis!” he said, pulling her forward with all the enthusiasm his small frame could muster. Sakura responded with another happy squeal, her trust in her brother absolute as she stumbled forward, gripping his hand tightly.

From the edge of the garden, Trouble lay stretched out under the sunlight, her black eyes tracking every move. She watched Sakura’s attempts with rapt attention, her tail swishing with encouragement as if cheering on our little one.

Sakura took a few more shaky steps, her hand still gripping Levi’s for balance, until she finally lost her footing. But just as she began to teeter, Noah scooped her up into his arms before she could fall. Sakura clung to her Papa, and Trouble, as if sensing the moment, lifted her head and let out a triumphant howl, celebrating our tiny human’s success.

Noah laughed, cradling Sakura close as she snuggled into Noah’s chest, exhausted but utterly thrilled, while Trouble wagged her tail even harder, her proud gaze following. It was as if she understood the victory of Sakura’s steps and was just as invested in every small victory as the rest of us.

As Noah held Sakura, her head rested against his shoulder, her hair now loose—the bun undone, and the hairband lost somewhere in the garden. Her eyelids began to flutter, the day’s activities finally catching up with her. She gave a little sigh, her fingers curling sleepily into his shirt as she drifted off. Noah turned to Levi, extending his free hand.

“Come on, buddy.”

Levi obediently took his father’s hand, and together they headed back inside, with Trouble padding along behind them.

Once we were all back in the living room, Trouble trotted over to me, her keen eyes meeting mine with a knowing glint. She pressed her nose against my stomach, nudging me softly. I stroked her fur and gave her a gentle “Shh,” hoping she’d keep our little secret just a bit longer.

Meanwhile, Noah adjusted his grip on the now-snoozing Sakura, and glanced at Levi, who was yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“Let’s get you two to your room for a nap,” he murmured, giving Levi’s hand a squeeze. Levi didn’t protest, his tiredness starting to show. “Go give Mama and Grandma a kiss.”

Levi leaned in and placed the softest kiss on my cheek, whispering, “bye, Mama.” Then moved to hug Grandma.

As they made their way to the twins’ shared bedroom, I watched them disappear down the hallway and Trouble settled down beside me, resting her head on my lap. I scratched behind her ears.

After a little while, Noah came back.

“They’re both out like lights.” He settled into his seat with a relaxed sigh, picking up his cup and taking a long sip of his tea. He noticed Trouble, who was still comfortably nestled with her head on my lap. “Hey, big girl,” he said with mock indignation, arching an eyebrow. “Where’s my share of the cuddles?”

As if understanding his request, Trouble lifted her head from my lap and trotted over to Noah, plopping down beside him with a huff. He scratched her behind the ears and ruflled the fur on her neck. She leaned into him, accepting his attention with her usual grace.

The peace didn’t last long, though. Less than an hour into their nap, I noticed Trouble’s ears perk up, her attention shifting to the hallway. She slipped away from us, heading toward the children’s bedroom.

She had sensed them waking up.

Sakura and Levi weren’t the type to cry when they woke; for the past year, they’d developed a habit of waking each other with little noises and soft giggles, almost as if inviting each other to play.

I got up and followed Trouble, who smoothly squeezed through the gap Noah had left in the door.

When I opened it fully a moment later, I found Levi already out of bed, his face alight with excitement as he tried to wrestle with Trouble, charging at her and pushing with all his tiny might. Trouble looked thoroughly amused as she lay there with perfect patience, moving just enough to make him feel like he was putting up a real fight. His laughter rang out as he finally managed to clamber onto her back. In response, Trouble rolled over gently, pinning him beneath her massive paw in a playful but controlled move.

Not wanting to be left out, Sakura, who was obviously also awake, crawled over, her eyes fixated on Trouble’s tail as it swished enticingly from side to side. With a little pout, she reached out, trying to grab it, but Trouble swayed it just out of reach, starting a game of chase. Sakura crawled faster as she tried again and again to capture the elusive tail.

“Catch Trouble!” she called.

Levi, now up on his feet, toddled around the room with all the confidence of a young explorer, and Sakura was quick to follow, her rapid crawling fueled by her intention to keep up with either her big brother of the wolf. Her little hands slapped against the floor as she tried to match their pace, but every so often, she would fall just a bit behind, her face scrunching in frustration.

Noticing this, Trouble ever so heedful, decided to pad over to her and lay down directly in her path, as if offering a solution. Sakura’s eyes lit up, and she eagerly clambered onto Trouble’s back, settling herself with a triumphant smile as she shouted “catch!”. With her tiny hands buried in Trouble’s thick fur, she held on tightly as the wolf rose slowly, careful with each movement and letting her enjoy her “victory”. Then, with Sakura perched securely on her back, Trouble began to walk at a measured pace, following Levi’s toddling path around the room. Sakura squealed with joy, her laughter bright as she held on, her little body bouncing with each step.

I watched them all, my heart full as I leaned against the doorframe.

Come evening, we prepared for the nightly ritual of bath time, one of my favorite moments of the day, while Grandma prepared dinner. I’d insisted she leave it to us, as she was our guest, but she insisted on cooking while we took care of the children. Noah and I filled the tub with warm water, adding just a hint of baby shampoo that filled the air with a soft, sweet fragrance and created a layer of frothy bubbles on the surface. After I undressed Sakura and Noah undressed Levi, we eased them gently into the water, ensuring their little bodies had time to adjust to the warmth.

Sakura, a water enthusiast, started kicking her legs right away. The instant her tiny feet touched the water, she sent splashes flying toward me, Noah, and her little brother, setting off giggles that only grew louder as she saw our crinkled faces.

Once seated in the tub, Levi joined in the fun, slapping the bubbles with his hands and gathering foam to blow into the air—a trick he’d picked up from watching me when they were a bit younger. Noah and I washed them carefully, shampooing their hair, which sometimes turned into a bit of a juggling act as they squirmed and giggled, forcing us to keep a steady grip so they wouldn’t slip beneath the water.

“Close your eyes,” Noah called out when it was time to rinse their hair. They both complied, but Sakura’s face always tensed a little, still a bit wary of the water streaming over her head and face.

Finally clean, smelling fresh and looking irresistibly pink-cheeked, with their skin moisturized and their hair tangle-free, we bundled each of them in thick, fluffy white towels, wrapping them snugly into two little burritos. They looked up at us, eyes half-closed, as if already starting to sink into the cozy warmth, the softness of the towels hugging their tiny bodies.

I stayed behind in the bathroom to clean up as Noah carried our little bundles over to our bed. I gathered the twins’ bath toys, placing them in a basket, then paused just outside the doorway to watch. Noah knelt on the bed, playfully towering over their tiny forms as they lay side-by-side, snug in their towel cocoons. He was using his playful, bedtime voice.

“Who are Papa’s favorite little warriors?”

Sakura and Levi gurgled and giggled under their Papa’s attention. Levi reached out, and Noah leaned closer, letting the tiny fingers brush his cheek, only to “accidentally” shift so Levi’s hand tapped his nose instead. Noah widened his eyes in surprise, prompting a delighted laugh from Levi. With a grin, Noah lifted Levi’s chubby feet, playfully nibbling at his toes before turning his attention to Sakura, who had been watching his antics with wide-eyed fascination.

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you a brave little warrior?”

Sakura stretched an arm toward him, and he took her tiny hand, pressing a kiss on her knuckles. Then, tracing a line down her face, he murmured, “You’re Papa’s fearless princess, that’s what you are,” finishing with a tender boop on her nose.

He unwrapped her towel just enough to blow soft raspberries on her belly, then did the same to Levi, sending both of them into fits of giggles as they tried to curl up as if trying to escape.

“Who’s got the giggles now, huh?” Noah chuckled.

Noticing me in the doorway, he reached out a hand, and I joined him, bringing over the kids’ pajamas from the drawer.

The next morning, Sakura was suprisingly the first to wake, her little voice calling for me. I could tell immediately that she was hungry, so I scooped her up and took her with me as I sat in the rocking chair in the room, where the quiet of the early morning enveloped us like a cozy blanket. As I fed her, the soft light filtering through the window illuminated her delicate features, and I couldn’t help but smile at how sweet and peaceful my daughter looked, with her Papa’s same eyes and hair.

“Slept well, babygirl?”

With her hands around the bottle and her lips glued to the tip, her eyes found mine and she nodded.

“Papa,” Sakura called.

“Papa!” she repeated, louder this time, her tiny hands pushing against him.

“Yes, babygirl?” Noah mumbled, rolling over slowly to face her.

Sakura babbled something that neither of us quite understood, and we shared a laugh, enchanted by her morning enthusiasm.

“I know, I know,” Noah replied, stretching his arms overhead as he sat up, the sheets slipping away to reveal the entirety of his muscled tattoed torso.

After a few moments of morning cuddles, Noah got dressed and decided to take our daughter out into the garden, where they were greeted by Trouble. They settled on the porch, where Noah cradled our baby girl in his arms, the two of them framed by the glow of the rising sun.

As the first light of day crept over the mountains, Sakura cooed and babbled happily, her little hands pointing at the sky in wonder. Noah murmured softly to her, sharing snippets of thoughts and observations about the world. He pointed out the way the colors changed in the morning light, the birds flitting about, and the way the leaves shimmered with dew.

After the entire family woke up and had finished breakfast, Grandma called out the children into the living room.

“I have some surprises for you, little ones. Come here sit with Grandma.” On the floor in front of her were colorful packages wrapped in bright paper, each adorned with shiny ribbons. “Look what I brought for you!”

Levi dashed over, tugging at his sister’s hand to urge her to crawl along behind him.

Grandma began by handing them each a small package. Levi ripped into his with the fervor of a true little boy, revealing a set of brightly colored building blocks. His eyes widened in awe.

“Look, Mama!” he exclaimed, holding them up proudly.

Sakura, on the other hand, took her time, delicately unwrapping her gift with tiny fingers. When she finally revealed a plush white bunny with extremely long ears, her face lit up with pure joy. She hugged it tightly to her chest, her delight evident as she nestled her head against it.

“Do you like your new bunny, sweetheart?” Grandma asked, her heart swelling with happiness.

Sakura nodded vigorously.

After unwrapping the toys, Grandma reached behind her and brought out two beautifully folded outfits.

“For my little warrior,” she announced, holding up a small, traditional outfit for Levi—a miniature warrior’s attire, complete with delicate, intricate details that mimicked one of his father’s. “And for my little princess,” she continued, revealing an elegant white kimono adorned with tiny embroidered blossoms.

We’d kept both children in modern, comfortable clothes—soft cotton jumpers, leggings, and joggers that allowed them to move freely and easily. But seeing these traditional clothes, made with such care and attention, felt like a small window into the past, connecting them with the roots of their heritage.

Levi darted over to Noah, who was sipping black coffee by the garden, one hand cradling his mug while the other rested on Trouble’s thick fur, who stood at Noah’s waist even on all fours.

“Papa! Can you help me wear this? I’m going to be just like you!” Levi’s eyes sparkled with excitement, the bundle of cloth and miniature armor pieces clutched in his tiny hands.

Noah set his coffee down and motioned Levi closer. He knelt, carefully fastening each part of the outfit, steady hands adjusting every strap and buckle with the same focus he might bring to his own armor. Levi stood stock-still, his chest puffed out proudly. When Noah finally stepped back to take in the sight, Levi looked every inch the little warrior.

Noah chuckled softly, reaching out to smooth our son’s hair.

“Looking good, Levi,” he murmured, feeling a tug of pride at the familiar look in Levi’s eyes. It was like seeing a younger version of himself, bold and ready for anything. “Did you say thank you to Grandma?”

As if realizing his mistake, he turned around and shouted, “Thank you, Grandma!”

Grandma’s smile only grew bigger.

As we admired Levi’s transformation, I noticed Sakura still sat on the floor, a look of frustration and sadness spreading across her face. She was tugging at her sweater, trying to pull it off by herself, her little face scrunched up in concentration—and then she started to cry silently, overwhelmed by her desire to join in but unable to undress on her own.

“Oh,” I muttered as I walked to her and kneeled down. “Baby, it’s okay. We’re going to help you.”

“No need to cry, come on,” Noah interjected, scooping her up and settling her on his lap as he took a seat on the couch. “Arms up, baby.”

She lifted her arms, sniffling a little as he gently pulled off her sweater and guided her tiny arms into the sleeves of her kimono. He adjusted each fold with care, and then tied the delicate sash around her waist. Once she was dressed, Noah lifted her and propped her up on his thighs. She stood there, balanced in his hands, her big eyes taking in the soft white fabric that flowed elegantly around her tiny frame. The kimono’s delicate folds shimmered in the morning light and made her look like a tiny princess straight out of a storybook.

“Look at you. My beautiful babygirl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Sakura stood still, gazing up at him with a tiny blush blooming on her cheeks, her admiration shining so openly that it made Noah chuckle.

“I think your daughter might be in love with you,” Grandma commented with a smile.

“You have no idea,” I interjected, and all of us laughed.

I walked over to them, smoothing my hand over the soft, white fabric of Sakura’s kimono, adjusting a fold even though Noah had already done it perfectly. She gazed up at me, her big eyes bright with excitement, and I couldn’t help but smile, my heart swelling as I took in her joy.

“You look absolutely beautiful, sweetheart,” I murmured, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. I glanced at Noah, letting a playful glint spark in my eyes. “Daddy did a great job.”

Noah smirked, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes.

“Pretty good with belts and knots, aren’t I?” he murmured, his voice low enough that only I caught the edge of his joke. I shot him a wide-eyed look, barely able to hold back my laugh. Typical Noah, sneaking in a comment like that while Grandma and the kids were right there. Lucky for him, everyone else seemed blissfully unaware.

Then, with that familiar, warm smile, he slid his arm around my waist and tugged me closer. He didn’t even have to say anything for me to feel how much he loved being here with us, with his family.

Sakura watched us, her little face brightening as she glanced between her father and me. “Papa, kiss Mama,” she piped up, clapping her hands together.

Noah chuckled, his gaze meeting mine with a look that held years of shared stories, a million unspoken words. Then he tilted his chin up, I bent down, and he kissed me, a soft press of his lips that was so familiar yet always felt like a quiet thrill. Sakura’s giggles filled the room, the kind of laughter that made everything feel lighter, as if we’d slipped into one of the fairytales she loved so much.

After spending time with Grandma and taking a walk down to the heart of the sanctuary that morning, we met Rika’s family and other neighbors. Lunch was a communal affair in the main hall, where the air was rich with the scent of fresh rice, vegetables, and miso. Levi and Sakura spent the afternoon running about, playing with Rika and Milla’s children, giggling as they chased one another—eighter on two or four legs—, and even cautiously patting and feeding the deer that roamed around.

Trouble stalked nearby, her tail held high and a low, protective growl rumbling every time one of the other animals got too close to Levi and Sakura. She was overprotective, and it was clear she took her self-imposed role as a guardian seriously.

Eventually, we made our way back to the house, the golden afternoon light filtering through the trees. While Noah went outside to feed Trouble, Grandma approached me with a knowing look in her eye. She took my hands in hers, her warmth and wisdom wrapping around me.

“Why don’t you and Noah take some time for yourselves?” she suggested. “I’ll stay here with the children.”

“But you only just got here,” I protested, reluctant to impose. “You don’t need to jump right into babysitting duty, Grandma.”

She gave a small laugh, her eyes crinkling.

“Maybe because I think Noah should know the news,” she said.

I paused, feeling a soft swell of emotion at the thought. Her hand squeezed mine as she looked into my eyes.

“I know he’ll be even more protective and likely won’t let you out of his sight for a moment, but he deserves to be part of this journey and not miss a day. Let him share in the joy and excitement with you.”

I took a deep breath. She was right, of course. Noah deserved to be a part of this new chapter from the very beginning, and I could already picture the joy in his eyes when he found out about the life growing inside of me.

I bit my lip, but eventually nodded. With my heart grateful, I gave Grandma a warm hug.

After a quiet moment, I made my way outside, finding Noah as he leaned against a tree, watching Trouble with a satisfied smile as she finished her meal. He looked up as I approached.

“Why don’t we go out for a bit?” I suggested, doing my best to sound casual.

Noah raised an eyebrow, casting a glance toward the living room where Levi and Sakura were happily playing with Grandma.

“Again? I think both the kids and Grandma might be tired…”

“Just the two of us,” I clarified, cutting him off with a small smile.

He turned back to me, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding, realization dawning in his eyes.

A slow smirk crept across his face.

“Just us?” he murmured, his tone lower.

“Yes,” I replied, extending my hand toward him. He took it without hesitation, his warmth making me feel all the more eager to share this not-so-little secret with him.

Inside, we gathered a picnic basket and filled it with a blanket, fruit, and other snacks. We said goodbye to the children, who didn’t seem too preoccupied with us leaving thanks to Grandma’s presence. As we made our way to the door, Trouble followed us, glancing over her own back every two seconds, clearly undecided between following us or staying back with Levi and Sakura.

“No worries, Trouble. You’re in charge here,” Noah told her. She hesitated, giving us one last look, before trotting back inside and settling herself protectively beside the children, her tail curling around Sakura and tickling her in the face, making her scrunch her nose and cover her face with her arms.

Noah and I left the house with a loving laugh.

The weather was perfectly warm and clear as we set off up the path toward a hidden pond not too far, eager to savor the last few hours of sunlight. It was a secluded little haven we had discovered just before I got pregnant with the twins—a place Noah and I had made our own, keeping it a secret even from the kids for now. As much as we loved being parents, we cherished our time alone, too. Though Noah hadn’t said it outright, I could tell from the glint in his eyes how much he appreciated Grandma’s gesture in giving us this moment to ourselves.

We spread out the blanket on the sand surrounding the pond, the warmth of the late afternoon settling over us as we unpacked apples, peaches, berries, and pastries from the basket. Noah settled down and I knelt beside him, reaching eagerly for one of the chocolate pastries. But before I could take a bite, he gestured for me to sit between his legs. I moved over and leaned back into his arms, savoring the comfort of his warmth and the easy rhythm of his breath against my neck.

After a while, with our appetites satisfied, I relaxed against him, my head resting on his shoulder and his chin gently perched on mine. His cheek brushed against me, warm and slightly rough—just the way I liked it. His arms held me close, my hands resting atop his as we took in the view together: the slow sway of the water, the vibrant reflections of the sun across the pond, the birds soaring overhead, and the flowers tilting upward as if reaching for the fading sun.

I felt the soft ghost of Noah’s lips graze the crook of my neck, where my skin was exposed. Instinctively I tilted my head to give him more access.

“I love the way you smell,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against my skin.

“What do I smell like?”

“Hmm. Lavender and… baby powder.”

I snorted, laughing softly.

“So do you,” I teased, leaning in at an odd angle to nuzzle my nose against his cheek. He pulled a face.

“Please don’t tell me that,” he groaned. “A Samurai smelling like baby powder? Not exactly intimidating.”

“It makes you a responsible, caring dad.” My voice softened as I looked up at him, our faces so close I could see the flecks of darker brown in his eyes. “You’re the best father to our children I could’ve ever asked for.”

“Because you and our kids deserve only the best,” he replied, his hand sneaking up to touch my chin with a finger. He tiped it up. Then his palm cupped my cheek and he brought our lips together.

We kissed under the trees, surrounded by the earthy scent of the forest, birdsong, and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Gradually, my body melted beneath his touch, and he shifted until I was lying back on the blanket, his mouth never leaving mine.

Since the moment I got pregnant, Noah’s affection and care had grown, and he had never stopped showing how much he loved me and how beautiful I was in his eyes. He was a grown man now; gone was the teenage boy I’d watched training tirelessly on my father’s grounds. But his heart remained unchanged, and every now and then, he’d still wear that peaceful expression while he slept—the look of that young boy I’d first fallen in love with. Now, Noah was my husband, my soulmate, but he would always also be the boy that stole my heart.

Lying on the blanket, his hands explored my body, slipping beneath the fabric of my kimono to find my skin while my fingers trailed through his hair, drawing soft sounds from his lips that stirred a warmth deep within me. I hooked a leg around him, arching to meet him, offering myself without hesitation. Noah murmured something against my mouth, and as I ran a hand down his back to slip beneath his shirt and touch his muscles, his grip on my waist tightened.

“Behave,” he ordered, his voice rough. His eyes remained closed as he untied the laces of my kimono, spreading the fabric to either side and exposing my skin to the open air, a chill raising goosebumps.

“Or what?” I teased, nipping at his lower lip.

When he opened his eyes, they were dark and narrowed, though a playful glint lingered in them.

“Or I’ll find a good use for this belt,” he replied.

“Oh? And then…?”

His brow lifted, slightly taken aback by my boldness.

“Then I’ll place these berries on every spot that makes you shiver,” he murmured, his fingers tracing down the valley between my breasts and along my sides, tickling lightly. My giggles bubbled up, and he laughed with me, though his intent was clear. “And I’ll eat every one of them off you before letting my tongue wander between your legs.”

Heat pooled low in my belly, but I maintained a calm facade.

“And you’re going to act so indecently out here in the open?” I teased, tilting my head toward a nearby deer quietly grazing in the shade.

Noah followed my gaze.

“They’ve witnessed far filthier things than that, done by you,” he teased right back.

I couldn’t suppress a wide smile before his mouth descended on mine. In a matter of minutes, my underwear was gone, and Noah was making good on his promise with focused, deliberate devotion. I lay exposed on the blanket, berries scattered across my stomach as his mouth traced every inch of me, savoring each berry he plucked from my skin. He licked away the juice that dripped from them, glancing up at me every so often.

Eventually, he shed his clothes as well. I watched him with a blissful smile, sated from my first climax, his skilled mouth having left gentle love bites along the inside of my thighs as the breeze carried away my gasps. When he finally entered me, I felt complete, holding tight to his shoulders as he moved within me, my legs locked around him and my eyes fixed on his. I lifted my head to meet him in a kiss, tasting the faint tartness of raspberries lingering on his tongue.

“Sometimes,” he said, his voice strained as he withdrew slowly, inch by inch, making me feel every exquisite part of him, “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him back down to me.

“I’ll be yours,” I whispered hoarsely against his lips, my nose brushing his, “until the end of days, Noah.”

Our eyes locked, and as we moved together, he would reach up every so often to tuck stray strands of hair behind my ear or simply to cup my cheek with quiet affection. At one point, his hand wandered to the box of berries beside us. He held a strawberry to my lips, feeding it to me as he held still within me, his body warm and solid against mine.

“Sweet?” he asked hoarsely.

I nodded, my cheeks flushed, overwhelmed as always by the press of his heavy body and his cock filling me completely.

“That’s exactly how you taste,” he murmured, punctuating the words with a deep, slow thrust that left me gasping. “No,” he corrected himself, withdrawing slightly, his muscles flexing under my hands as I clung to his biceps. “You taste even sweeter.” He thrust again, harder this time, drawing a cry from my lips. “That’s it,” he coaxed. “Let the Gods hear you. Let them know how good I make you feel.”

“Please, Noah,” I pleaded. “I’m so close.”

He knew, and he didn’t hold back, guiding me to the edge and staying with me as I fell, a soft whimper escaping my lips as his name echoed through the trees. He followed soon after, his released spreading through me, our bodies trembling together as we clung to each other, complete in the quiet of the forest.

Not long after, Noah led me to the water. We cleaned ourselves off, then I wrapped myself around him like a koala. He spun us in circles, making me laugh until my sides ached.

When we emerged, my hair dry because I’d kept it tied back with a kanzashi stick, we dried off and slipped back into our underwear. Feeling utterly content, I lay down on the blanket, my hair spilling around me as soon as Noah pulled at the stick with a cheeky smile. He settled beside me on his stomach. He’d collected a small bundle of flowers—jasmine, sakura blossoms, and a few other delicate wildflowers. One by one, he began placing them over my belly, just as he had done earlier with the berries. When my skin was adorned with petals, he tucked the last sakura blooms in my hair.

The sight of those particular flowers stirred memories. They were a tender reminder not only of our daughter now, but of all those years ago when Noah would visit me at my grandmother’s village home at night, stealing moments with me under the moonlight and the sheets. He would leave in the early mornings, just before sunrise and before I would wake up. When I did, he was gone, but he always used to leave a bunch of sakura flowers on the pillow as a reminder of his love.

Now, the flowers were a reminder of our past and everything we had endured—of the strenght we had found in each other and how much we had accomplished, of the man and the woman we had become.

“I have to tell you something,” I murmured, feeling the nervous tickling settling in my lower pit.

He paused, holding a jasmine in his fingers, his eyes bright with curiosity. Without another word, I guided his hand to rest on my flower-covered belly. I watched as his brows furrowed, and then his eyes widening as he began to piece it together. The jasmine slipped from his fingers, settling delicately at my navel.

A quiet breath hitched in his throat as he took in the meaning of my gesture. His eyes filled with wonder, his lips parting slightly as he looked down at my belly, his hand pressing carefully—almost reverently— over me, protective and awestruck.

His question—“Are we having another baby?”—uttered so softly and carefully, as if he believed saying it too loud might shatter the truth of it, melted me. I nodded, my smile bright and cheeks warm, the blush deepening at the comfort of his strong hand resting over our child—our third.

I felt weightless, floating in a dreamlike state as I looked into the warmth of Noah’s brown eyes, seeing the light of love and devotion that always glowed there. Not a day went by that he didn’t express how lucky he felt to have found me and to have fought for me—to had me fight for him—, how proud and grateful he was that I’d given him not only my heart but a family. I had given him happiness, the kind he’d been raised to believe he’d never deserve.

After a beat, when the news settled in, his lips found their way to my flower-covered stomach, pressing a tender kiss right where our little one was already learning the love of their Papa.

Back at home, our girl Sakura and our boy Levi played together, blissfully unaware that soon they’d have someone new to protect, to dote on, to share their world with. Just imagining their excitement and fierce protectiveness over their new sibling made me laugh, my eyes misting. Noah must have been thinking the same. He pressed his cheek against my bare skin. When his eyelashes fluttered, they sent a ripple of lovely goosebumps across my body.

My hand slipped into his hair, fingers threading softly as we lay there together, wrapped in the quietness of our deserved joy. I had a husband, an adopted wolf, a daughter, a son—and another baby on the way, created from the endless love I shared with Noah—my soldier, my warrior.

My Samurai.

✨ Author's note:

*cries* *cries more* *cries some more*

*continues crying*

Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading this story, for all your support, for encouraging me to keep going after I posted the first part (which was supposed to be a one shot). Thank your for sharing your thoughts, for commenting, for reblogging, for messaging me about this fic and sending my brain on overdrive with your brainrots. Writing this story has been a dream, firstly because I always wanted to read a romance story with a Samurai and Noah made the perfect muse for it, second because it gave me an excuse to do a lot of research on Japan and its culture and history. This is in no way an accurate historical fic, but there's so much I've read online and s much I've learnt. I wish I could've made this fic into something better and make it more accurate—perhaps longer, too. But I'm currently very happy with what we've created together, yes, together, because half of this wouldn't exist without all of you that have showered me and my works with love and care. I'm forever thankful and glad that writing and sharing these so many words have brought me close to so many of you wonderful creatures.

I hope you know that, while this is the end of the fic, I have some exciting plans for the future involving samurai!noah. I don't want to say more for the time being, but don't say goodbye to him just yet.

I hope you loved reading this as much as I loved sharing it with you and reading your comments and reactions.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 🥹

V. 💕

*proceeds to sob*

Taglist:

If I forgot someone, I'm so sorry! I love you! There's just so much going on in my head!

@girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3 | @missduffsblog | @respectfulrebel

@badomensls | @shilohrosechicken | @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @concreteangel92 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

#sorry that was so long 😭#ily <3 #the unmaking of a warrior #noah sebastian fanfiction

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jetspikepub · 13 hours ago

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No one ever really talks about it in the fandom and it NEEDS to be discussed because it's hilarious to me. I have to ask where all the crazed spike x julia fans come from 😭 like say one thing negative about the ship or ship spike with someone else and there's this one person (who I think owns multiple spikexjulia accounts snd pretends to be different people😭😭) that starts sending their "CAnoN aNd facTuAL eviDencE" with so much hostility

I've also noticed that Julia fans either always hate Faye and/or don't give a damn about Spike's well-being and just want him paired up with Julia even if that costed him his life, which I don't even think Julia herself wanted for him to do in the end lol. It's a little disturbing

Oh trust me, this is a looong story. It's not like we don't see it, we just got tired of it. You're not alone, I give you a warm hug🫂

This user has been terrorising Bebop fandom across multiple platforms since 2022, I think. If you ever see this bitch harassing someone just flag the account or ban it. A collective appeal could do the trick, but it's gonna be like chopping off Hydra's heads. This pain in the ass keeps posting weird commissions on X (Twitter), Deviantart, Reddit, Pixiv (for Christ's sake, please DO NOT search Bebop tag on Pixiv, it's a total disaster in there right now) and edited Bebop wiki, describing Faye as Spike's no 1 enemy and Julia as a goddess of doves and roses 🤢 It's hard to track down every account, the only way to stay safe is to not interact with them and blacklist. "If I ignore it, maybe it will go away" tactics is the best in this situation, don't let them take away your time and emotions, they cannot be reasoned with.

Another thing that bothers me is that stupid localisation of guide books with SpikeJulia nonsence the translators added just because they wanted to and ruined the original idea that implies multiple ways of story perception. I've aready dispelled that "truest lover ever" myth by presenting the original texts from my collection of Japanese books. They fucked up with "love" kanji meaning in Eng and this changed a lot (I did some analysis here and here). Now we can see what happens when these love stories fall into the wrong hands: haters cite it like a Bible in each and every thread about SpikeFaye😩 Also there was a post about some Julia's love letter to Spike (wtf?) written on the back cover of the vol. 6.

I wanted to make a post about it and took pictures of a Japanese edition but forgot. Now it's the right time to dispel another myth.

According to quick translation results, this guide was made to inform fans about some Bebop episodes which weren't aired on regular TV and appeared later on WOWOW (premuim satellite broadcasting) because of censorship.

There was no mention of Julia writing letters to Spike in the original series. It was Spike who gave her a note describing rendezvous point or whatever and she tore it to pieces🤷🏼‍♀️

Just remember: Spike's well-being is up to the viewer. Noone can convince you otherwise if you don't want to and noone has right to insult you. Spike is for everyone 🌸

The situation is so annoying, those who loved SpikeJulia or didn't give a damn about them now hate this. If someone is going to use "SpikeJulia" as a safeword I will understand 🤣

#asks #see you space cowboy

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cuteniaarts · 1 year ago

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In another world, fate was just a little bit kinder

#my art #artists on tumblr #the legend of korra #original characters #sotrl midori #sotrl haya #seeds of the red lotus #look I was feeling extremely emotional recently. and thought about how different life would be for my OCs if Haya was good #and I'm a sucker for AUs like that. it's spiritually healing. so of course I had to draw something for it #I originally wanted to draw a companion piece for suiren too but then thought it was just rehashing the idea #and I draw Suiren a lot already anyways so decided to just take the excuse to draw adorable little Midori and run with it #I have quite a few thoughts about an AU like this too. it starts out like sotrl does. haya gives them the cold shoulder and is kinda mean #but then the news of the rl's imprisonment reach gaoling. haya is shellshocked at first. distances herself and sends the girls to their room #pretends she can't hear the crying. but really she wants to cry too because as estranged as they are. ghazan is still her little brother #she indulges late that night after she think the girls are asleep. deep buried trauma from losing her parents resurfaces #but then she hears footsteps behind her. Midori is awake. haya wants to be angry at first but finds she has no energy to #they talk a little. the warm glow of candlelight catches midori's eyes and their grey shade turns gold. she looks so much like him #haya realises Midori is even younger than ghazan was when they lost their parents. suiren is half the age haya herself was #no one cared for her and ghazan back then. she won't let history repeat itself #so she reaches for midori. heart skipping a beat when she lights up slightly. and takes her into her arms #holds her close as midori hugs her back. if she closes her eyes it almost feels like she’s 14 again. holding her brother #she swears then that she’ll be as good of a guardian to these girls as she can so they don’t end up like their parents did. like haya did #it’s a long road to unlearn her bitterness but she tries her best. it’s easier with midori who soaks in affection like a sponge #Midori’s happiness is infectious. with suiren it’s much more difficult bc the prejudice Haya holds against the swamp are still there #as is the hatred for their mother. it isn’t until the townspeople start calling Suiren a swamp rat does haya snap #she no longer cares about getting alienated from the community that barely welcomed her anyway. she will defend her niece from them all #it’s the first time she calls suiren her niece. they talk too and Haya apologises for favouring Midori and starts working on fixing it #their life together isn’t perfect. the townspeople side eye them. they can’t afford bending teachers. Haya still has to bite her tongue #but it’s so much better than what could have been had Haya let her pain consume her and started to take it out on the girls. they’re happy #I have so much more to say and theorise about when it comes to this au but alas. tag limits are a thing. so I’m leaving this here

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seouljazzbar · 3 months ago

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GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest.

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry.

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats.

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…”

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties.

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?”

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?”

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat.

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet.

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in.

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.” He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you.

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains.

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.”

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed.

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

#mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #nct smut #nct x reader #seouljazzbar

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elo-h · 11 months ago

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So apparently I'm not allowed to use the good printer for personal projects, but that didn't stop me. Both Hami and I are enjoying the result 😊💕

Again thank you so much, can't wait to get distracted by this wonderful work of art every time I sit down at my computer 💕

Here’s my part for the mp100 secret spirit! For @elo-h

I combined the prompts “spirits and such having a day at the office” and “the kids hanging out.” It was so much fun to draw

Thank you for hosting this, @mp100secretspirit

#still so obessed!!!#like the skill and effort you put into this is just amazing! and that you managed to pull it of in just one day!!!! just wow!#you drew a whole scene! with a fully rendered background and everything!#i love how lived in the space looks #i love the motion of the characters #like reigen's hands and tome's hair and how squished dimple is #i love serizawas sweet gentle smile I'd do anything to preserve that smile forever #i adore the fact that mob is reading one punch!#and how intense ritsu and sho are!!#there is just so much life and emotion in this piece and it warms my heart #and like the technical aspect is top notch too #the composition is stellar!!!#i adore the colors and how well they work together i love that I can tell which time of day it by the light the room is bathed in #the finer details too!!#like the contrast between the sharp lineart and the textured coloring is just 😘👌#i especially enjoy the highlight on tome's sock and how it fades out with the texture of the brush #the same with sho's sleeve #it's just perfect and I shall treasure it forever #thank you again from the bottom of my heart 💕

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hmusunoo · 3 months ago

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘 - 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

desc. │ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴄʏ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʙᴏʏ ɪɴ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ɪꜱ ᴇxᴘᴏꜱᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴡᴏʀꜱᴛ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ, ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ. ᴅᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʜɪᴍ. ᴀʟʟ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴀ ʙᴏʏ.

warnings. │ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴍᴇᴀɴ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴍᴅɴɪ, ʙᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɢɪʀʟꜱ.

pairing. │ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ!ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ x ᴜɴᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ/ɴᴇʀᴅ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Laughter was contagious, it was similar to a disease in the way that it spread from person to person. Bubbling up inside of you and exploding out like an erupting volcano. Laughter rang throughout this classroom like a bell on a high tower ringing through town.

It had surrounded you, enveloping you in a blur. You huddled into yourself, hugging yourself felt like the only form of protection you'd get from all the prying eyes and explosive laughter that came from them.

You had been a jester in their court, the punchline to their very cruel cruel joke. The screen in front of the classroom displayed your demise. The ultimate downfall of you, not that you had much credibility to begin with but any single ounce of dignity you once held was all gone now, you were left a puddle of yourself. Tears formed in your eyes the utter humiliation of the situation eating you up inside. You should run away, break free from the confines of this classroom and the people that surrounded you but you couldn't quite find your footing.

You were frozen in place not an inch of your body able to move from its spot. Your eyes searched for Heeseung in this room that felt so massive but at the same time so very small. You found him in the corner of the room, eyes not meeting yours. You were silently pleading from him to help you, for him to speak up and defend you. But he wasn't moving, not a single inch.

Your heart was breaking you could feel your stomach drop to its very pit. On the screen displayed pictures, multiple of them. Some of you and heeseung and some of your text messages with. It also showed pictures that you had sent to heeseung in confidence. Not fully naked but pretty close to it. Your mortification could not even begin to be described. This would destroy you. It was actively destroying you.

The source of your downfall you might ask? Hwang Yeji. Yeji hated you for a reason entirely unknown to you. So much so that she decided to expose the hidden relationship you held with the resident popular boy Lee Heeseung. In the most humiliating way possible. Feigning a school presentation she took the time to display all your inner most intimate moments with the boy.

Worst of it all. Heeseung sat completely still in his spot, not uttering a single word as Yeji spewed her hate to all of the class. He did absolutely nothing to defend you much less himself. It hurt more than a million tiny little needles poking into your skin. A million knives driven into your heart.

"Oh!" Yeji laughed, turning to look at you a smile big on her face. "The nerd is crying... Heeseung baby, do you have anything to say to your little girlfriend here? The side piece I should say." She spoke with venomous intentions, the heat of her gaze piercing you.

"She's not my girlfriend." Heeseung muttered finally. It was the first thing he said during this entire ordeal. The first thing he decided to say was say was not in defendance of you, instead he was covering his own ass.

It furthered your humiliation by a tenfold. You curled into yourself hugging even tighter hoping and praying that you could just simply disappear. You had been invisible most of your life and most days you hated it, today was not one of those days. Today you wished for it, prayed for it even.

“What-“ You whispered out, sure that the broken look on your face would trigger some sort of warm emotion from him. It did not. Instead Heeseung looked at you with disgust. An expression you had never seen from him before, at least not directed towards you.

“Did you actually think for a second that i loved you?” He spit out. The words had split your heart in two, if you had thought you were broken before you were wrong. You were shattered now a million pieces of yourself.

More laughter had filtered the room furthering your need to flee. “See?” Yeji asked the same smirk that you hated so deeply graced her face. “He just needed a quick fuck when i wasn’t around.”

“It was more than that and you know it” You said weakly. Trying your very hardest to stand your ground. You could tell it wasn’t working, if anything it was making you look more feeble. Yeji laughed again you began to wonder if that was the only thing she was capable in doing.

"Come on y/n, I know you're not that stupid. A boy like Lee Heeseung would never love someone like you. You're a complete loser." The words hurt more than you'd like to admit. You wish that you wouldn't give her the satisfaction of hurting you. She was winning this battle it was clear in the way you stood motionless. Letting her berate you as you stood there like a scared little stray dog. She was kicking you while you were down.

A sob bubbled up inside of you, pouring out of you uncontrollably no matter how much you wished to suppress it. It was no use. You were crying in front of more people than you could count. Each and every one of them reveling in your sheer humiliation.

It seemed that your body started to catch up with your mind and heart as you finally found the strength to run from the room. The sounds of the never ending laughter getting drowned out by your sobs and the hard beating of your footsteps against the school floor.

You emerged from the front doors of the school. The cold from the rain hitting your face and freezing your tears. It was mid December the bite from the cold had done nothing to calm the fiery storm that was brewing inside of you. Your mind was reeling a simmering anger boiling up within you. You hated Heeseung. And you thought that would never be possible.

You couldn't have ever imagined that there would be a time that you could hate Lee Heeseung. He had opened your world to new things, taught you so much about yourself. He had taught you to love yourself when you were at your lowest. You had showed him sides of yourself that no one had ever seen before. You had given yourself to him completely. Allowing him to take your innocence because you felt like he was trustworthy enough to do so. Because you felt like he was the most perfect person to lose it with.

You were wrong. He had used you, then left you to rot. Left you to deal with the repercussions of what you had done together, alone. He had promised you so much all of it coming to be a lie. Just like he had promised that him and Yeji weren't a couple. That obviously being proven to be a lie. As you ran to your car getting in and starting up you felt like you could never come back to this place.

You had decided to skip school for the past week, huddling up in your dorm room feigning sickness. It was clear to more than half campus what the real reason for your absence was. You had turned your phone off staying in bed day in and day out. You didn't want any contact with the outside world. The only human interaction you were getting was from your roommate, Shin Yuna. She was your saving grace, bringing you food from the cafe and forcing you to get up and shower.

She had loathed Heeseung and Yeji for what they did to you. She had half a mind to go straight to Heeseung and Beomgyu's dorm and tell Heeseung off. You had stopped her, not wanting her to fight your battles for you. No matter how much you wanted her to. You wanted to be the bigger person in this although that was very very hard.

After a week of missing class you received a email from your professor requesting your immediate presence in his next class. No questions asked, you were no longer able to hide under your covers. The real world was calling and you had to pick up unfortunately.

You woke up the day you were due to go back to work, a tight knot formed in your stomach. You weren't ready for this but it was something you had to do. After getting ready for the day just throwing on a pair of old jeans and a loose sweatshirt you had left your dorm readying yourself to take the semi-long walk to campus.

You had finally powered your phone on after it being off for a week. Tons of notifications poured through, text messages and random phone calls. Most of them from Yuna, some from your mother and siblings. A certain contact had surprised you more than the rest.

Heeseung had called you, multiple times. Your brows scrunched up in confusion. Why did he call you? He had said everything he needed to say a week ago in that classroom where he allowed his so called girlfriend humiliate you for something the both of you had participated in.

Scrolling through your text messages you noticed that he had also sent you various text messages begging you to call him back. The he needed to explain everything to you. You decided that texting back would be your best option. That telling him to fuck off and never speak to you again was the only way to get him off your back.

Y/n: Never speak to me again. Do not text me, I want absolutely nothing to do with you.

The response had came almost instantaneously, a plea from Heeseung to hear him. You scoffed at his text message deciding to block his number and continue your walk towards class. You were already not looking forward to seeing him during class today, him and Yeji were certainly both going to be there and you weren't entirely sure that you wanted to see them both.

Your plan was to lay low, get there early and keep your head down most of the day. You didn't want any unwanted attention on you, surely everyone hadn't forgotten about what had transpired a week ago. You definitely hadn't.

When you finally got to class you were relived to find that it was mostly empty. You found a spot in the way back of the class, tucking into yourself you sat down. Your glasses pushed close to your face you tried your best to appear invisible.

You didn't need Yeji, or Heeseung noticing you once they decided to get here.

The class started to fill up slowly but surely. No sign of yeji or Heeseung at all. All was going ok until you felt a presence besides you. The familiar scent of pine filling your nostrils. You went rigged in your seat.

"Y/n?" Heeseung voice whispered next to you. You turned away from him as much as you could, your heart beating wildly in your chest the anxiety you were feeling before just shot up by a tenfold.

"Y/n please can we talk?" Heeseung asked again in a low voice. He reached out a hand placing in on your elbow in a soft touch.

"No don't touch me!" You said making a show of yanking your elbow from his grip. "Don't ever fucking touch me" You spit out trying your hardest to keep your voice low as to not grow attention to yourself.

"please, we need to talk" He continued to whisper out.

"You said all you needed to say" You spit out at him. "Leave me alone." Your voice was firm with finality one that you hoped he caught onto. If he did he made no show in complying.

"This was not my fault" He said, a hint of anger in his voice.

"Not your fault?" You asked in bewilderment. Your anger was growing minute by minute and you weren't sure when you would explode. "Our entire relationship was put on display for the entire school to see, pictures of me basically naked were seen by everyone, from your phone Heeseung and you said nothing to defend me. Absolutely nothing, and you want me to hear you out? Fuck you Lee Heeseung."

Heeseung's eyes widened in surprise at the bite to your words. He was expecting you to say anything even remotely close to that. In all honestly he was expecting your forgiveness pretty easily.

"you're being ridiculous y/n" He muttered at you. Your simmering anger rose at his words. The audacity he had was truly appalling.

"How dare you?" You said exasperated. "I'm being ridiculous? Are you actually being serious right now Heeseung." You turned to look at Heeseung noting the look on his face. He looked tired and worn out, the bags under his heavy were heavy with spotted dark circles. "Go back to your girlfriend and please, please heeseung leave me alone."

"I didn't mean what I said y/n." Heeseung whispered again, almost in defeat. "I love you. And I was an idiot to say otherwise"

His words had hit you like a freight train straight to your heart. He rose from the seat besides you, going down the rows of seats and finally sitting besides a few of his friends that had trickled in.

A few times throughout the class you would notice his lingering gaze on you. Even after Yeji finally emerged, sitting down besides him with a huge smirk on her face. she ran her manicured nails up and down his arm the entire class period. Almost in a mockingly way. She took small digs at you without even looking at you one time.

It felt degrading, you felt disgusting and most of all you felt broken.

It had been a few more days since Heeseung spoke to you in class. His number stayed blocked in your phone not giving him the opportunity to talk to you. Everyday Yeji continued to subtly taunt you. She did little things like laugh out loud at any and everything Heeseung said, she loudly called him pet names and she continued to work her pesky nails all over his body. Her PDA was to the max even if most times he didn't reciprocate it.

Today had been a free day finally able to breathe and be at the dorms. Yuna was at her boyfriend Sunghoon's dorm all weekend so you had the space for yourself.

Yuna had texted you mid afternoon to check on you, making sure she didn't have to come back at all. But everything was going fine, you were huddled up on your bed, a bag of hot Cheetos next to you as you shamelessly wore Heeseung's old hoodie. You were comfortable and finally your mind wasn't plagued with the thoughts of Heeseung and yeji and what they could possibly be doing right now. Instead you were content watching your little YouTube videos alone in the comfort of your vacant dorm.

You were contently watching a YouTube video when a sharp knock was sound on your dorm room door. It made you jump in surprise not expecting a visitor. you are fairly certain it wasn't Yuna as she has key and would definitely just walk right in.

You got up from your bed hesitantly not wanting to be disturbed by people this late at night. When you opened the door you were greeted with the one person you wanted to see the least right now.

Heeseung was at your door, looking as beautiful as always in his sweat pants and plan black hoodie. You pushed your glasses up onto the bridge of your nose trying to make sure you were indeed seeing clearly and Heeseung really had the audacity to show up to your dorm.

"Why are you here?" You spit out, not in the mood to deal with his baggage.

"I needed to see you Y/n." Heeseung pleaded, he made a step towards you trying to get into the dorm. You let out a sigh, getting the impression that he was not leaving so soon. You allowed him to step inside.

"Heeseung please" You begged turning to look at the boy who broke your heart. "I'm begging you to leave me alone. You got what you wanted ok? What more do you want from me." You were pleading with him, begging him to give this up and leave you be. The damage was already done and you couldn't deal with the aftermath of what your relationship was anymore. It was way too much to bare.

"I need you to hear me out Y/n, you're not even giving me the time to explain everything" His words had made you irrationally angry. You were done letting him gas light you any further, you were about ready to speak your mind, truthfully now.

"You want me to give you the time to explain? After what you did to me? After what you allowed Yeji to do to me? I want nothing to do with you, I don't want to hear you out. I hate you" You spit the words at him like a canon, hoping it hit its mark and hurts him even a fraction of as much as he hurt you.

"You don't hate me" Heeseung said, a shadow of a smirk ghosting his lips.

"Is this funny to you? Is this all just a fucking joke to you? I was humiliated at your expense and it's one big fucking game to you." Your words had clearly made him angry, his eyebrows had a scrunch to them now.

"I didn't ask for our messages and pictures to get leaked Y/n is is just as much humiliating for me as it is for you!" His voice was raised in octave. The vein on his neck popping out just slightly and you would be lying if you didn't admit to yourself how hot it was. You scolded yourself for having that thought. Now was not the time nor place to be thinking of how hot Heeseung looked while he was angry.

"How did she even get them to begin with Heeseung, from you! You're her 'boyfriend' after all" Your volume raised just as loudly as his. Not ready to let him win this argument.

"She stole them from my phone while I was drunk at a party Y/n she took advantage of me." You rolled your eyes at his words, not believing his bullshit in the slightest.

"She's not my girlfriend y/n I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't with her." You scoffed at him, shaking your head.

"It doesn't matter-"

"It does matter y/n I love you." He spoke with fiver, like he was pleading with you to hear him.

"Stop lying to me" You whispered. "I can't take it."

"Im not lying damnit. How can I get you to understand that" No matter the desperation in his voice you felt like nothing was going to convince you that he was genuine with his words.

"No" You said standing your ground "I hate you."

Heeseung ran a hand through his hair a frustrated sigh leaving his lips once again.

"Stop saying that." He hissed out. The defiant person in you wanted to try your hardest to piss him off further. To hurt him more than he hurt you.

"I hate you." You said again. Heeseung advanced towards you pushing you against the wall in a rush. His big frame engulfed you, both arms surrounding you in a huddle.

"No you don't." His voice was raspy causing the heat between your legs to pulse just slightly. No longer were you arguing with anger, but now with lust.

A part of you was screaming at yourself to push him away, not allowing him to have even a fraction more of yourself. The other side of you was welcoming his advances, praying that sooner then later he would touch you more then he already was.

"I do." You said with a nod, the words leaving you in a single breathy whisper. "I hate you so much"

His lips were on you not even a second later attaching to yours in a rush of emotion and a blur of lust.

You gasped against his mouth giving him the leeway to dip his tongue in entangling yours in a fight for dominance.

His mouth moved from yours traveling down your neck and to your collarbone, you let out a tiny moan trying hard to suppress you noises as much as possible.

Heeseungs hand traveled up your body lazily landing on the outline of your breast in his oversized hoodie.

"You hate me but you're wearing my hoodie hmm." He said teasingly continuing to grope you over the hoodie.

"It's laundry week" You gasped out, arching your body into his. His hands traveled the expanse of your body landing in the hem of the hoodie. pushing it up and over your head to expose your name chest underneath.

Immediately Heeseung attached his mouth to your breast, licking and sucking at them with a desperation you had never seen from him before.

"Stop teasing" You whined pushing yourself further into him, grinding your lower body onto his. Your heat met the material of his sweatpants. The friction shooting a delicious surge through your body. You let out a whimper only spurring Heeseung's movements more. He sucked and licked at your breast like a mad man.

"Do you deserve it baby" He whispered detaching from your chest to say the words. His hand made its way down to your covered heat rubbing over the material of your thin biker shorts.

Your moans were high pitched exactly how you knew Heeseung loved them.

"Yes" You gasped out "I deserve it" You reached for the strings of Heeseungs sweatpants pushing them down in a feeble attempt to get him naked. Heeseung caught your wrists with his hands before lifting you up and plopping you down on the small twin sized bed in your dorm room.

He was quick in grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt lifting it over his head to expose his toned chest. Your breathing was harsh as you stared up him removing his clothing. You hurried in yanking your shorts and panties down.

The desperation for him felt palpable, a rush of emotions so hot filled your body. You wanted him badly, no, needed him badly. Soon the both of you were naked, the yearning you felt coupled with the emotion of your recent heartbreak had made all the lust that much more intense.

in the back of your mind you were kicking yourself. Scolding your heart for allowing Heeseung to have you again so intimately.

“Do you have a condom sweetheart?” Heeseung asked in his sickly sweet voice. You shook your head running your hands up and down heeseungs torso admiring the sculpture of his abs and toned forearms.

“Just pull out” You said, finally reaching his cock, grabbing it in your small hands you pumped it a few times causing a hiss of pleasure to leave his lips.

“You’re so wet” Heeseung panted attaching his fingers to your hole as you continue to stroke him lazily.

“Hurry” You pleaded looking up at him with wide eyes. Tears glistening at the anticipation of the moment. Heeseung removed your hand from his cock stroking it himself a few times before lining it at your entrance.

You held your breath at what was to come next willing yourself to relax, you had taken him plenty of times before but each time had felt like the first. With the stretch of his cock finally entering you, both heeseung and yourself let out a sigh of content. The pleasure of being filled to the brim was all consuming.

“Fuck” You squeaked out at a particularly harsh trust. Heeseungs hands held tightly onto your hips pounding into with a new found vigor. His groans of pleasure loud in your ears.

“So fucking warm” He muttered out, his head falling forward to watch where the two of you connected, the slick from your wetness causing a squelching sound to ring around the room. “You like that?”

The question was a hard one to answer, you couldn’t find words. The sounds you made growing louder and louder at every single push inside of you.

“Answer me” Heeseung growled quickening his pace. His hips now slamming into you over and over harder as his entire body dropped into yours over and over. “Does that feel fucking good?”

“Yes!” You gasped reaching your arms out and hooking them behind his head. “So fucking good. don’t stop” You yanked Heeseungs head down to your breasts. His lips reattaching to the perked nubs of your nipples.

“Tell me you love me” Heeseung whispered against your breast that he was currently latched to. The words didn’t register in your mind. You’re head filled with the feeling of him inside of you. You didn’t answer, instead letting out breathy moans at the continuous slam of his hips against yours.

Heeseungs grip on your hips tightened. His head rising from your chest to look at you. His hips stop, keeping his tight grip on your hips he punctuated his next few words with a slam inside of you. “Tell” slam “me” slam “you” slam “love” slam “me”.

Your mind was a frenzy, completely fucked out you whisper “I hate you.” Which only fueled Heeseungs need to be rough further. His hand creeped up to your neck squeezing just enough to make you see stars.

“No you don’t” He cooed continuing his relentless thrusts. “You love me. now fucking say it” You were stubborn you would try everything not to say it.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of you saying it. So instead you moaned out his name, something you knew for certain was a big weakness for him.

Praising him until he was so fucked out he forgot what he was asking of you. It was a manipulation tactic. You realized that but even in your lust filled daze you knew you could not give him the satisfaction of saying those three words.

“I’m gonna cum” You wheezed arching into Heeseung with your entire body. He nodded in a frenzy curses leaving his beautiful parted lips in a mantra. “Me too baby” He moaned out.

His hand traveled down landing on your bundle of nerves, circling his fingers over your clit furthering the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter ready to snap at any given moment.

You were in ecstasy the need to explode with pleasure growing more as he continued to trust into you at a brutal pace. The movement of his fingers on your clit coupled with constant slam of his hips against yours pushed you over the edging sending you hurtling to your release.

“Fuck fuck fuck” You squeaked out. Convulsing around Heeseings cock causing his breathing to quicken and become heavier.

“I’m gonna cum” He whined pushing a few more times inside of you before pulling out. He stroked his cock a few times allowing the spurts of cum to land over your stomach and breasts.

You took a moment to compose yourself, Heeseung calming his breathing from his position on top of you.

The clarity of the situation ran into you like a truck. The shame you felt quickly after the ecstasy of the moment was palpable. You quickly got up skipping to your bathroom to rid yourself of his spend all over your body. The tears in your eyes spilling out and over the apples of you cheeks.

“Y/n?” Heeseung asked knocking on the door of the bathroom. His voice laced with concern no doubt reading your distraught state.

“Please go” You whispered “We shouldn’t have done that” You stood naked in your bathroom against the door unable to will yourself to open it. You didn’t want to see Heeseungs face. You didn’t want to face the magnitude of what you had just done.

“What Y/n-“

“Go! Get out!” You screamed finally opening the door. Heeseung was dressed again. The look on his face shown one of pure confusion and panic. But you didn’t care. You needed him out. You wanted to scream, rip your hair out, trash your room, anything. He just needed to be gone.

“Get out!” You said again, Heeseung reached for you but you pulled away quick enough that he wasn’t able to make contact with your body. You reached your dorm room door in a blur opening it and pointing outside. “Go or i’ll scream and wake up this entire fucking floor.”

“I’ll be back” Heeseung said. You slammed the door before allowing yourself to fall against it. Sobs Racking your body as you brought your knees to your chest.

In truth you had felt filthy. You had loved Heeseung, that was a sad fact but you knew with absolute certainty that he did not love you like he claimed to. You cursed yourself for allowing him to have you in such an intimate way after what had transpired. Your mind racing with what will happen after this.

Will he tell Yeji? Will she have more fuel to torture you with. You weren’t sure you wanted to deal with the repercussions of what you both had just done. Your heart was in the pit of your stomach as you continued to sob on the floor of your dorm room, completely naked.

The next few days flew by the a blur. You continued your day to day life attending classes and hanging out with Yuna. Oddly enough Heeseung hadn’t been to class in days. You hadn’t seen him since the night you kicked him out of your dorm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried about him wondering what was stopping him from coming to class.

Yeji had showed up everyday. Still flaunting Heeseung as much as she could even in his absence. She would talk about him loudly, claiming that they had gone on dates or went to parties. You scoffed at all her intentions of riling you up.

You hated her. That much was a fact, but you wouldn’t allow her to see the effect she really had on you.

Today had been a particularly rainy day. One that had immediately put a huge damper on your mood. Class had felt like a chore walking from class to class becoming increasingly more tiring by the second.

As you were walking to your dorm excited for the long tiring day to be over a buzz from your phone took you out of your train of thought.

Yuna was calling you. You answered the phone “Hey Yuna-“

“Come to the cafe NOW!” She rushed into the phone. “What-?” You were cut off by her yelling into the phone again “Now Y/n!”

The line went dead signaling her hanging up on you. In confusion you rushed to the cafe on campus, a place everyone who was anyone hung out.

When you arrived at the cafe you noticed a considerable large crowd forming. You looked around trying to find a glimpse of Yuna in this massive crowd.

Pushing your way through the people you noticed the multiple eyes folllwing you, watching you like hawk with their prey.

Finally getting to the front of the crowd your eyes caught a huge sign, one that usually hung in front of the cafe lighting up the specials, but today it was different. Today instead of the being lights displaying the daily specials it said one little sentence.

“I love you Y/n. Shouting from the rooftops - You’re heeseung” It was a simple message, but the impact was grand.

He was proclaiming himself to you. In front of the entire campus, in front of Yeji herself. She stood there looking up at the sign angrily. Heeseung sat still next to the sign. His eyes on you and only you.

“What the fuck” Yeji spit out, eyes searching wildly probably looking for you in the sea of people. “Heeseung what is this?” She screeched out her voice like nails on a fucking chalkboard.

“I’m done letting you ruin my life Yeji.” Heeseung spoke, eyes still on yours. “We aren’t together, we never were together. I love Y/n”

Your heart felt as if it were beating a million miles per minute, pounding at your chest yearning to burst out. Heeseung was making a grand gesture, and although you both had alot to talk about and it didn’t erase the hurt he had caused he was making a big effort. He was making it known that he chooses you.

Yeji was red with anger turning on her heels and rushing out of the crowd the eyes of everyone around us watching her meltdown front and center. You were sure she wasn’t done here but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care what she had planned next. Your only thoughts were occupied by Heeseung and what he was saying right here right now.

You walked up to him slowly, trying to savor the moment as much as you could. The crowd still watching your every movement. Usually that would be a pretty awkward thing but you honestly couldn’t care less.

“Heeseung-“

“i’m not ashamed of you.” He said cutting you off “I love you, and i want everyone to know. I don’t care what people think. I’m done letting someone like Yeji dictate my life i want to be with you.” He spoke with vigor, trying his hardest to get his point across. You could have sworn you had hearts in your eyes. Your heart swelling with pride for the man that stood in front of you.

“You’re not fully forgiven” You spoke softly “But i love you too.” His eyes lit up at your declaration “So i’m willing to try-“

You barely got the words out before his lips were on yours. Attaching to you like he would never let you go, and honestly you really hope he wouldn’t.

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tetzoro · 5 months ago

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SLOW MORNINGS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after two years, you finally agreed to move in with kuroo and after your first night together, kuroo reflects on his perspective of love — and how much you’ve influenced it.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : fluff, fluff, fluff ! — WC : 1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : this was lost in the abyss on kuroosdarling but i rescued this cheesy lil piece. enjoy !! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

love was something kuroo always found in fiction.

whether it would be from the stories his grandmother used to read to him as she tucked him into bed, her sweet voice filling his mind with a longing desire to one day have even a fraction of that love.

or in the books his father swore he didn’t own but yet somehow found themselves nestled in between the self help and business books that collected dust on his bookshelf. the tattered covers showing signs of wear and tear that could only come from a devoted reader.

but he never thought he’d make it here and experience a moment like this for himself. he never thought that this was something he’d ever even want at all. relationships had always been pushed back into the far corner of his heart, the fear from his parents ultimate brutal destruction overshadowed his desire for it.

so he never chased after love.

but then you chased after him. and he couldn’t help but welcome you in his arms. you were everything he never thought he needed. you brought peace and serenity into his life. kept him grounded, balanced but still somehow always knew how to push his buttons and keep him on his toes at the same time.

you were the perfect partner for him.

the day he met you, he had no idea how much you were going to infiltrate his life. you went behind enemy lines, storming towards his heart all without making a noise. the perfect stealth attack that left him questioning if he ever had any defenses to begin with.

but he supposed that all boiled down to a simple fact. he could act blind all he wanted, but his soul knew better, for it was the very thing that led you right into his heart, letting you steal it and make it yours.

he was just happy that it was finally in safe hands.

it all brought him crashing down to this moment — seeing your toothbrush innocently sitting next to his in the little ceramic glass by the bathroom sink. the little reminder that showed he shared his space with someone, actually letting them into every crevice of his heart. the thought had him getting a little emotional at 6 in the morning.

because he could easily look over to his right, through the opened bathroom door and see you still peacefully asleep in his bed — your shared bed. and it warmed his heart to no end.

as if you could sense his thoughts, you shift awake, watching him as he stared back at you.

“morning tetsu.” you whisper into the otherwise silent apartment. it took him a second to process the words as they spilled from your lips, watching as you slowly get up and stretch in a way that reminded him of a cat when they first rise from their slumber.

“morning sweetheart.” he smiles, his toothbrush haphazardly hanging out of the side of his mouth. you giggled at the sight, causing his grin to spread wider — wide enough for it to slip out of his mouth and into his hand. his reflexes from volleyball always came in handy when he needed it most. but he supposed he still looked like a fool in front of you — you just had that effect on him.

“you still asleep in there or something?” you ask, teasing him as you wander into the bathroom, wiping some toothpaste off his cheek before wrapping your arms around his bare waist.

“tell me, is it possible to get too much beauty sleep? because you’ve never looked more gorgeous.” he murmurs back, his large hand covering yours as he held your gaze in the mirror. he relished in the flustered expression you tried to hide as your face burrowed between his shoulder blades.

“so cheesy this early? my oh my, we’re off to a good start.” you giggle, your lips pressing against his bare back as the sound escapes you, sending chills all throughout him.

“you better believe it.” he smirks, happily leaning back into your touch. “how’d you sleep?”

“i slept great.” you poke your head out from behind him, smiling as you met his gaze in the mirror once again. it was hard for him not to immediately match your smile, the light in your eyes already brightening the dawn of the day. so he didn’t bother to fight it as his lips lifted upward. “our first night together in the apartment.”

“our apartment.” he quickly corrected, his palm patting your hand soothingly.

“our apartment.” you repeat. you pivot so you’re next to him, lightly bumping his hip with yours so he’d step to the side, giving you some room in the cramped space. you reach over and grab your toothbrush, the very one he was so caught up in only moments ago.

the quiet space now filled with life as you start your morning routine. he resumes brushing his teeth, watching each step you take.

how could something so mundane fill him with such joy?

your pretty eyes meet his in the mirror once again as you start brushing, slightly widening them in surprise under his watchful gaze.

and you were just so cute, sleep still clinging onto your sweet features as if you were internally fighting to stay awake. the two of you had plenty of sleepovers prior to you moving in, but this felt different.

this was the start of your lives together.

and it made him happy. so happy that he couldn’t help but chuckle, watching your face scrunch up at the strong minty toothpaste he used.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter either, lovingly looking at him through the mirror as your shared giggles fill the room.

if this was the first day to the rest of your lives together, he knew it would be filled with nothing but love. the kind of love he thought only existed in cliche movies and sappy poems. the kind in the bedtime stories his grandmother would read to him. the kind he found between the annotated pages of his father’s books.

but he found all of that within you, the love of his life.

thank you so much for reading :3

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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thedevilrisen · 1 month ago

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Cradle Me

Father!Quinn x Son & Wife!Reader. Word Count: 1,1k Authorial Note: My next voted WIP! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I did while writing it! Don’t know if it’s my best piece then. Warnings: Swearing, mentions of birth.

Elliot Samuel Hughes came screaming into the world at 4:12 p.m., Quinn only knew his son for a matter of awed, breathless moments before the world sharpened—and chaos erupted.

Nurses swarmed you, dabbing and cleaning with sodden warm towels. A warm, slimy bundle of swaddle-blanket and baby reached your chest as the obstetrician stepped back from your glistening body. Quinn's reddened hand slipped from your grip, instinctively cradling the baby to your chest. His other hand, shaking slightly, gripped the bed's plastic rail. Leaning forward, he rested his right arm limply across your shoulder, his forehead gently touching yours as the two of you gazed down at your son.

"How’re you doing, Dad?" the obstetrician asked from the sink as he scrubbed his hands clean.

Quinn blinked, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "I feel sick... but in a good way." He laughed softly, joy plastered permanently on his face. "We created a human... that's fucking scary but awesome at the same time."

Even in your post-birth haze, a smile graced your lips. It was an awesome thing indeed. This was your person now, a culmination of Quinn and your love. Despite this baby being considered a gift, he clearly was sent to test you and Quinn’s love for each other. No parenting class could have prepared you for the unfolding chaos that was leaving the hospital and heading home. The first day at the hospital was incredible, the nurses gently guided you and Quinn in the ways of parenting. But once you left and arrived home, the learning curve turned into an aggressive crash course.

Emotions ran high for every family member. Every nap missed, messy feed, spit-up, or nappy mess that needed cleaning up frayed the string further. Quinn and you had been remarkably naïve to think that this journey would be easy, even though you’d been dreaming collectively of this moment for years.

Quinn, along with self-proclaimed uncles Elias, Brock, and JT, spent hours working on the perfect nursery for baby boy Hughes. From wall decorations to the crib and changing table—which you insisted had to be powder blue with clouds and a grassy field with cows in it—the boys poured their hearts into it. Once they had finished assembling the room and you'd let it air out due to your hatred of the smell of fresh paint, you added the final details: books, blankets, nappies, and wipes, along with baby clothes hanging neatly on tiny coat hangers.

The first night home from the hospital was powered purely by adrenaline. You and Quinn took shifts with baby boy��changing, feeding, and sometimes just comforting him to sleep. By the second and third nights, the exhaustion set in. Leaving the warmth of the bed became a Herculean effort, especially for you. The physical toll of birth weighed heavily on your body, and sustaining new life felt overwhelming.

Quinn tried his hardest to take the load off, seeing how hard you were working to make the transition smooth, though it felt futile. His patience held up remarkably well for the first four days, but by the fourth night, tension crept in. Snappish words replaced your usual playful banter, and the distance between you felt like a growing chasm. Quinn’s touch, once so comforting, now felt foreign. Exhaustion tangled both your nerves, and intimacy between the two of you became a distant memory.

That night, an abrupt “goodnight” was shared, accompanied by a peck on the cheek. You both lay there in the dark, separated by a wall of fatigue, each praying for sleep that never came, as baby boy woke again at distasteful hours of the night.

Night five was the killer. Some ungodly hour like 1:03 a.m. glared back at you from the microwave as you ambled around the kitchen for the second time that night. You’d fed him twice now, but much of the milk had come back up in spit-up. Quinn had changed baby once and had checked on him again 45 minutes earlier.

There was one distinct problem: the baby only slept when he was held. You could do as many laps around the kitchen as you wanted, Quinn could rock him for hours, but as soon as baby landed on the bassinet’s mattress, it was like laying him on lava.

"Still no luck, darlin’?" Quinn’s voice came quietly from the doorway, his tired form silhouetted by the dim light of the stairs. He met you halfway, his brow furrowed with concern.

You let out a soft, frustrated sigh. "Every time I put him down, he cries," you whispered, blinking back tears. "I’m so tired, Quinn."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "C’mon, let’s go back to bed," he murmured, leading you gently up the stairs. Exhaustion had blurred the edges of your world, and you forced a tired smile as he kissed your hand again.

"He’s just going to cry when I put him down, Quinn," you stated tiredly as he threw back the covers for you. The softness of the bed felt like heaven against your aching body, and you settled in without a second thought.

Quinn, now shirtless, pulled baby from your arms and nestled him gently on his chest, holding him snugly as he propped himself up with pillows. He tucked you in under his arm, pulling the blankets over both of you.

"Sleep now, darlin’," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. Baby wriggled slightly in his swaddle but quickly relaxed against Quinn's warmth. "If this is how we have to do it from now on, fine."

Quinn sighed, his grip tightening around both of you. "At least we have good chiros at the rink."

#risen rambles :d #luke hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #dad quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes one shot #canucks #canucks hockey #hughes brothers #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes 43 #quinn hughes x y/n #qh43

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pandapetals · 8 days ago

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You're Too Good for Me

Logan has a nightmare which causes him to spiral thinking you deserve better. He hurts your feelings then tries to make up for it.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

a/n: request from anon and i ran with it. I’m on my period so im emotional. also i think the song head over feet by alanis morissette describes their relationship perfectly.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

Logan hadn’t had a nightmare like this in a long time—dark, violent, pulling him back to places he thought he’d managed to bury. He woke up gasping, drenched in cold sweat, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. He barely registered your hands on his shoulders, your soft voice coaxing him back to reality.

"Logan," you whispered, brushing a hand gently through his hair. "It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m here."

As he sat up, breathing ragged, he could feel the old shame tightening in his chest, coiling around his heart like a vise. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to be woken up in the middle of the night to deal with his demons, his scars that never truly healed.

In the dim light, he glanced at you, your concerned eyes, the gentle way you held him as though he were something fragile. Something that needed fixing. And it cut deeper than he expected.

"Go back to sleep," he mumbled, pulling away from your touch, trying to put space between you. "You don’t have to… just go back to bed."

You watched him, hurt flashing across your face before you masked it with understanding like you always did. But that only made it worse. Logan felt like a burden, an anchor holding you down when you could be with someone lighter, someone whole.

It was selfish, he realized bitterly, for him to have married you. To drag you into his darkness, to let you tether yourself to someone so broken. You could have had happiness with someone who didn’t carry the weight of a hundred lifetimes, someone who wouldn’t drag you into his nightmares.

The day that followed was unforgiving. The mansion was chaotic with the energy of kids excited for the upcoming weekend, their laughter and chatter echoing through the halls. Normally, Logan found a certain kind of peace in the routine, in the noise and laughter. He’d steal a moment to find you, just to see the way your eyes lit up when you spotted him across the room, the way you’d smile like he was the best part of your day.

But today, he couldn’t bring himself to look for you. Instead, he kept his distance, trying to hold onto the feeling of solitude he hadn’t felt in so long. He couldn’t shake the gnawing thought that he was ruining your life, that every day you stayed by his side, you were giving up a piece of yourself for someone who didn’t deserve it.

Still, avoiding you completely proved impossible. In the late afternoon, he wandered into the library to drop off a book one of the students had left in his class, and there you were, seated at one of the old wooden tables, a notebook open in front of you, scribbling something with that quiet intensity he loved so much.

As if sensing his presence, you looked up and caught his gaze, breaking into a warm smile. "There you are," you said, your voice light, teasing. "I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all day."

The words hung in the air, playful but carrying an undertone of uncertainty. When Logan didn’t respond, your smile faltered slightly, concern filling your eyes.

"Logan," you started, your tone softening, "what’s going on?"

Logan let out a long sigh, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice gruff, "don’t… don’t try to make me feel better, alright?"

You blinked, taken aback. "I’m not… I don’t even know what’s wrong. I’m just… trying to understand." Your voice wavered, the usual confidence slipping as you searched his face.

He looked down, feeling the weight of his own words pressing on him, but they spilled out anyway, rough and raw. "I don’t know why you stay with me. You’re too good for someone like me."

The hurt in your eyes was immediate and stark, cutting through him like a blade. Usually, you would have brushed off his self-deprecating comments with a witty remark, or maybe a kiss, but this time…the pain was visible.

"Wow, Logan." Your voice was quiet, almost disbelieving. "I guess if you say it enough, maybe I’ll start to believe it."

He felt his heart clench as he watched you, saw the way you pulled back as if shielding yourself from him. Before he could say anything, you’d gathered up your things and walked out, leaving him alone in the library, the silence heavier than any nightmare.

Later that evening, Logan sat in Xavier’s office, staring at the floor as the Professor studied him with quiet patience. Logan had come here for advice, though he hadn’t known how to ask for it. After a few minutes of silence, Xavier spoke.

"She loves you, Logan," Xavier said gently, his voice filled with the kind of understanding that only came with time. "And yet you push her away despite being married for years now. Why?"

Logan swallowed, struggling to put his feelings into words. "She… deserves better than me," he muttered. "I drag her into my mess. She’s always the one tryin’ to fix me, to hold me together. I don’t wanna keep holdin’ her back."

Xavier regarded him thoughtfully, folding his hands. "Perhaps," he said softly, "she doesn’t see it as a burden, Logan. Perhaps you’re the one who’s still carrying that weight." He paused, allowing the words to sink in. "But by constantly questioning her commitment, by doubting her love, you’re hurting her far more than any nightmare ever could."

Logan’s jaw tightened, shame flooding through him as Xavier’s words settled in. He’d spent so much time convinced he was protecting you by keeping you at arm’s length, he hadn’t realized he was driving a wedge between you. He was the one putting cracks in your relationship, making you question the very foundation of what you’d built together.

Determined to make it up to you, Logan planned a small, thoughtful evening, something that would remind you of the early days, back when things felt simple and uncomplicated. He knew he’d hurt you, and there was no grand gesture that could fix it. But maybe he could start by showing you what you meant to him.

He set up a cozy picnic under the stars in the mansion’s quiet garden, the same spot where he’d taken you for one of your dates. There were blankets laid out, soft lanterns casting a warm glow, and a small table with your favorite food—he’d even found the wine you’d both liked that night.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you finally came outside, your expression wary but softened by curiosity. Logan’s heart thudded in his chest as he stood, waiting, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had on a battlefield.

"What’s all this?" you asked quietly, glancing around the setup with a mixture of surprise and hesitation.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. "I… wanted to make it up to you. I know I’ve been a real jackass," he admitted, his voice gruff. "I’ve got this… damn habit of pushin’ people away. And I know I’ve hurt you by doin’ it. You didn’t deserve that."

Your expression softened, and you stepped closer, your eyes searching his face.

"There’s a… note," he mumbled, pointing to a folded piece of paper on the table. "I wrote it… y’know, in case I couldn’t say all of it right."

You picked up the note, unfolding it carefully. His handwriting was rough, scrawled across the page, and the words were raw, unpolished, but every line held the weight of his heart:

"I know I don’t say it enough, but you’re the best damn thing that ever happened to me. You’re my light, my peace, even when I don’t think I deserve it. I’d be lost without you, and it scares the hell outta me sometimes. I’m sorry for doubting what we have. I love you more than I know how to say, and I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you by my side."

You looked up at him, tears shimmering in your eyes, but there was a soft, unwavering smile tugging at your lips. "Logan… you don’t have to do all this to prove anything," you murmured, squeezing his hands. "I know how much you love me. I’ve always known."

Logan gave a half-shrug, but his expression softened as he took a tentative step closer, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "Maybe," he muttered, his voice rough, almost vulnerable. "But I’m a damn stubborn fool, and I know I don’t say it enough. Hell, I’m lucky you haven’t given up on me yet."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close until your foreheads were nearly touching. "Logan," you whispered, your voice steady despite the emotion welling up in your chest. "I knew exactly what I was getting myself into the moment I kissed you that first time. You seem to forget… this is a two-sided relationship. I chose this, and I chose you—all of you. The good, the bad, and even the ugly."

A small, wry smile crossed his face as he held you tighter, his hand splaying against the small of your back. "Guess there’s plenty of that last one," he murmured, his tone filled with self-deprecation.

You shook your head, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. "I don’t want some perfect, easy life. This marriage hasn’t been easy—no one ever promised it would be." Your voice softened, and a flicker of pain crossed your face as you thought back to the late nights, the nightmares, the moments of doubt. "But I wouldn’t trade a single second of it."

Logan’s eyes softened, the weight of your words sinking in as he searched your face. There was a flicker of something vulnerable, almost boyish as if he still couldn’t quite believe that someone like you would stay through it all. "Even with all the times I’ve messed up? Pushed you away?"

"Especially then," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I chose you, Logan, knowing every scar you carry. I chose you because you’re worth it. Because beneath all that gruff and growl, there’s a man with a heart bigger than he’ll ever admit."

Logan’s gaze softened, his usual guarded expression melting as he took in the honesty in your eyes. His fingers tightened around yours as if grounding himself in the warmth of your touch.

You swallowed, feeling your throat tighten as you searched for the right words. "Besides, you act like you haven’t been there for me—like I’m the only one giving in this marriage. But that’s not true. You’ve carried me, held me up when I couldn’t stand on my own." A tear slipped down your cheek, and you felt a tremble in your voice as you continued, more vulnerable than you’d ever allowed yourself to be. "I guess… I guess I need to tell you much you mean to me more, because if I ever lost you—"

Your voice broke, the unspoken thought hanging in the air between you. Logan’s hand moved to your face, his thumb gently wiping away the tear that had escaped. He looked at you with a raw intensity, like he was seeing you for the first time and realizing just how deeply his presence affected you.

"I don’t know what I’d do," you whispered, voice barely holding together. "Without you, it’d be like… losing the part of me that makes sense of the world. You’re my safe place, Logan. I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it."

A faint tremor ran through Logan, and for a moment he just stood there, absorbing your words. Then, in a rare, unguarded gesture, he pulled you against him, burying his face in your hair, his arms wrapping around you as if he could shield you from everything—himself included.

"You won’t lose me," he murmured, his voice rough, barely more than a whisper. "I’m here. And I’m not goin’ anywhere. Not ever."

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palms. "Promise me," you whispered, your voice filled with both a plea and a demand.

Logan’s hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he met your gaze, raw and steady. "I promise, darlin’," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "As long as I’m breathin’, I’m yours."

You nodded, a soft smile breaking through the tears as you let out a shaky breath. "Good," you whispered, a hint of your usual fire returning. "Because I’m not letting you go. You’re stuck with me, tough guy."

A smile finally broke through Logan’s serious expression, a low, rough laugh rumbling from his chest. "Well, I guess I got the better end of that deal," he murmured, his thumb tracing softly over your lips, his gaze warm and unguarded. "Lucky me."

You let out a laugh, sniffing as you swatted his hand away playfully. "No, I’m the lucky one, and don’t go thinking otherwise." You shook your head, the emotions bubbling up as you looked up at him. "You’ve seen the darkest parts of me, Logan. You know it wasn’t always easy for me either."

Logan’s smile faded slightly, his hand still cupping your cheek as he looked down at you, his brow furrowing. "Yeah… I guess sometimes I forget that," he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "I… I let that damn nightmare get the best of me last night. Pulled me into my head, made me feel like I was poisonin’ your life somehow." He sighed, looking away for a moment. "I let it eat at me, let it convince me that I was only draggin’ you down."

He trailed off, his thumb idly brushing against your cheek, almost as if grounding himself in the warmth of your skin. "Guess I let that fear carry me away," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "And I hurt you because of it."

Your hand found his, squeezing gently as you shook your head. "You don’t have to apologize for feeling like that. I know what those fears can do. I’ve had them too, remember?"

He frowned, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes. "You? I… I didn’t know you ever doubted us like that."

A soft smile played on your lips, tinged with a hint of sadness. "Oh, I’ve had my moments. There was a time, back when we were dating when I thought I wasn’t strong enough for all this." You looked down, your fingers tracing small patterns on his hand as you continued. "There were days I felt like I couldn’t handle the weight of what you carried… like maybe I wasn’t enough for you."

Logan’s hand tightened around yours, his gaze darkening as if the thought alone pained him. "I had no idea," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

You gave him a soft, reassuring smile. "Because you already had so much on your shoulders. I didn’t want to add to it. But… there was one night that changed everything."

He tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing in curiosity. "Which night?"

You took a deep breath, a nostalgic smile crossing your face as you remembered. "It was that night when I got that phone call about my dad being in the hospital. You remember? I’d barely told you anything about him, about my family, because… well, I thought it was easier not to talk about it."

Logan nodded, his gaze intense, recalling the way you had looked that night—pale, shaken, trying to hold yourself together. "Yeah," he said softly. "You were tryin’ to act like you were fine, but I could see you were fallin’ apart inside."

You laughed lightly, nodding. "Exactly. I was a mess, trying so hard not to let it show. But then… you showed up. I was packing a bag, trying to figure out what to do, and suddenly, you were just there. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t push me to talk… you just held me." Your voice softened a hint of awe in it. "And then you drove me to the hospital and stayed with me all night, even though I told you it was fine and that you didn’t have to."

Logan looked down, a faint blush touching his cheeks, as if embarrassed by his own gentleness. "Didn’t seem like you should be alone," he muttered, almost to himself. "Couldn’t leave you to deal with that by yourself."

"Exactly," you whispered, lifting his hand to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. "That night, you made me feel like… like I was worth being cared for. Like I could fall apart, and you’d be there to catch me. That’s when I knew I loved you, Logan. Not because you’re some ‘tough guy’ who protects everyone around him, but because of the way you love—with everything you’ve got, even when it scares you."

He swallowed, visibly moved, his thumb still tracing your cheek as he looked down at you, the weight of your words settling over him. "You’re tellin’ me that one night… that’s what made you fall for me?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It made me fall more for you and since then, every time you’ve shown up, every time you’ve let your guard down just enough to let me in… it only made me love you more."

Logan exhaled, his hand slipping down to rest over your heart as if feeling the steady beat under his palm reassured him of something he could never put into words. "I don’t deserve you," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "But… God, I’m gonna try like hell to be the man you see me as."

You leaned up, brushing your lips softly against his, pouring every bit of reassurance and love you had into that kiss. "You already are," you murmured against his lips. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. I wouldn’t trade you, or this life, for anything."

A soft laugh escaped him, full of relief and something tender. “Well,” he whispered, pulling you close, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m done lettin’ my own damn fears get in the way of us."

“Good,” you whispered. “Because marrying you was the best thing I ever did.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss. His hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer as if you might slip away. When you finally broke apart, he looked down at you with a gaze so soft, so full of unspoken devotion, it made your heart ache.

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thelovehypothesis · 9 days ago

Text

You ramble, but it's adorable

Ollie Bearman x fem!reader

From this request

+1k words

a/n's: this was requested on my old account which I accidentally deleted but, hope this fic finds the person that requested it!

warnings: fluff!

summary: lost in your latest obsession, and he's completely captivated by your every word—because to Ollie, every ramble is just another reason to fall in love.

Ollie had always found it easy to get lost in the small moments—those quiet pauses between races, when the world slowed down just enough for him to savour the simplicity of life. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the way he felt right now, watching you animatedly explain your latest obsession.

You were sitting on the couch, knees tucked under you, eyes sparkling as you tried to unpack the complex universe that Taylor Swift had created with her "folklore" album. Your hands moved in quick gestures as you traced out what you called "the love triangle of all love triangles" between Betty, James, and August. Ollie leaned against the backrest, listening with a quiet smile, his eyes never leaving your face.

"And then—" you continued, your voice slightly higher in pitch with excitement, "in 'Cardigan,' Betty is talking about how she loved James even after he messed everything up. But, and here's the crazy part, 'August' is from the perspective of the girl James cheated on her with!" You waved your hands in a dramatic arc. "It’s so genius because it’s like each song is a different piece of the same story. I mean, can you even imagine the emotional depth it takes to create something like that?"

Ollie chuckled softly, shaking his head just enough for you to notice but not enough to interrupt you. You barely paused, too deep in your passionate analysis of the music to stop.

"But wait, I’m not done!" You looked at him, eyes wide. "You’ve got 'Betty' next, which is James' apology song. He’s basically trying to get Betty back after messing around with August, but you can tell he’s just a stupid kid who didn’t know what he had until he lost it!" You sighed dramatically, clutching a pillow to your chest. "It’s heartbreaking, but also like... I can't stop listening to it on repeat."

Ollie couldn't help it; his heart swelled at how much you cared about all these tiny details, how you put your whole soul into explaining it to him. He loved how your face lit up with excitement, how your voice carried the melody of your thoughts so effortlessly. And he especially loved how you didn’t care whether he knew every little detail or not—you just wanted to share it with him.

"You’re adorable, you know that?" Ollie said softly, his voice cutting through your rambling just enough to make you pause.

You blinked, thrown off for a second. "What?"

"You ramble, but it's adorable," he repeated, this time with that signature Ollie grin that made your stomach flip. He reached out, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered near your cheek, warm and soft.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. "I’m not rambling… am I?"

"You absolutely are," Ollie teased, leaning forward so that his face was inches from yours. "But don’t stop. I like it when you talk about stuff like this. It’s like... I can see how much it means to you, and I love seeing you so happy."

You playfully swatted his arm, but your heart was beating faster, the tender warmth of his words melting away any embarrassment. "Fine," you said, narrowing your eyes in mock seriousness, "but don’t complain when I start talking about the metaphors behind the lyrics."

"I wouldn’t dream of it." He pulled you closer, his arm slipping around your waist. His eyes softened as they held yours, and for a moment, the world outside your little bubble disappeared.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush of affection. But then Ollie deepened it, his hand cupping the side of your face as he pulled you impossibly closer, his lips warm and insistent, making your heart race even faster.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, you couldn’t help but grin at him. "I think that was just a tactic to stop me from talking."

Ollie smirked, the mischievous glint in his eyes impossible to ignore. "Maybe," he admitted, his thumb grazing your lower lip, "but it worked, didn’t it?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that you were already melting under his touch. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing you in as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

"Seriously though," Ollie murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "I love listening to you talk. About Taylor Swift, about racing, about whatever it is that’s on your mind. You’re just so… passionate about everything, and it makes me love you even more."

The way he said it, so effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, made your heart skip a beat. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close again, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

"You’re too sweet, Ollie," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He chuckled lightly, his arms tightening around you. "Only for you."

For a while, you both stayed like that—curled up in each other’s arms, the TV flickering in the background, the weight of the world outside fading away. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that this moment, with him holding you so gently, was exactly where you wanted to be.

After a while, you shifted slightly, tilting your head up to look at him again. "Okay, but I’m serious about that love triangle. You have to admit it’s pretty genius, right?"

Ollie smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before nodding. "It’s genius," he agreed, even though he barely understood half of what you were saying. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way your eyes lit up, the way your voice danced with excitement. And if listening to Taylor Swift conspiracies made you this happy, then he would listen to every single one.

"Thanks for putting up with my rambling," you said, your voice softening.

Ollie smiled, brushing his lips against yours once more. "It’s not putting up with anything. I love it, and I love you."

And with that, he kissed you again—soft, sweet, and full of love. The kind of kiss that felt like home. The kind that made you feel like no matter what you rambled about, he would always be there to listen, to smile, and to love you through it all.

---The End---

-Lots of love, Em.

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dead-boys-club · 3 months ago

Text

† do you love me? : the fatui.

❥ scenario: their mute s/o asking if they love them. ❥ no triggers ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ requested. [ my pending isn't updated, it's a liar. ]

you had thought over it for a while, curious as to where you actually stood with your lover, no.. partner? did they love you? as your curiosity grew to a sickening need for an answer, you decided to write your question down, small and neat; 'do you love me?' before approaching to hand the paper off.

❥ la signora.

as she took the paper from you, you'd be unable to read her expression, something that was awfully common. you couldn't help but become slightly anxious as a few moments of silence went by, giving her the time to process the question. you had learned that signora was a very complex someone, someone who was guarded and difficult to read, but you had grown to understand those things about her. when she finally looked to you, there was a warmth in her gave and she set the paper down, now folded in half. she wouldn't have much to say, a simple 'yes' being whispered, full of sincerity and adoration for you, even if her expression didn't match. she reached out to cup your cheeks, the touch tender with her gloved hands, and she leaned to press a kiss to your forehead. it wasn't easy for her to express how she felt but she would never allow you to live with doubts on how she felt for you.

❥ scaramouche.

unlike signora, scara's response would be heavily complicated. he would be reluctant to take the paper to begin with, his expression immediately showing discomfort and clear distaste. love had never been something that worked out for him very well, nor did he understand it as much as others - love was one of the reasons his life had been filled with betrayal and manipulation. he was wary of emotions to begin with but love held a different kind of weight - it was almost like the word alone left a bitter taste at the back of his throat. he would quickly narrow his sharp eyes, masking the vulnerability with agitation. 'what kind of stupid question is this?' it would have hurt you had their been any malice to his tone. even as he crumpled up the paper and tossed it away, you could see some type of softness slipping through the cracks. it would take time but after a few minutes, he'd glance to you, gaze softening slightly. 'i don't know,' he admitted, voice quiet as he decided to be honest, 'i don't know if that's something i'm capable of but.. i don't hate you, if that's what you're worried about.' for scara, that was the closest thing to a confession you'd be getting and you understood and accepted that. besides.. he was a lot better with his actions than his words, even if he didn't realize.

❥ childe.

childe is always happy to accept your notes, be it during full conversations, asking him about missions, and so forth. with that happy expectation, he took the paper, only to falter briefly before a warm smile formed. 'of course i do,' he answered without hesitation. he'd wave the little piece of paper between two fingers before setting it down, 'this is a silly question.' he wasn't being demeaning, just pointing out what he thought - hoped - was obvious to you. his arms would find their way around you, hugging you close to lift you off your feet with a soft chuckle. 'why would you even feel the need to ask that?' childe had always done everything in his power to make sure his love was open and honest, being hidden from no one because he never wanted you to doubt him. he would actually wonder if he'd done something wrong that lead you to asking but it would be put on the back burner for later. 'you're one of the most important people in my life,' he whispered as he set you down, pressing a kiss right below your ear, 'and, i'll always love you.'

❥ dottore.

you knew such a question could leave you with an aching heart but you'd prepared yourself before hand, knowing the day you agreed to be the doctor's lover, it may not be in such a manner. as he took the paper from you, he read over it with an impassive expression, which you'd expected nothing less. minutes passed as he worked through your question. love was not something dottore considered valuable - emotions, in general, were considered a hindrance to him. love, most of all, was the worst there was. the paper was set down without an answer as he returned to his work, leaving you lost and hurt, despite knowing this would be the outcome. you began to turn on your heel to leave when he glanced to you. 'love is a trivial thing,' he said coldly, almost bitter. 'it's a distraction and a weakness.' you stopped yourself from frowning. contrasting his words, as you looked closely at him, you found something - a hint of conflict that told you there was more he wasn't willing to acknowledge. dottore never was one to answer things directly but his actions - his way of keeping you close, keeping you safe and granting you attention in ways no one else was allowed - that was enough, you decided.

❥ arlecchino.

she would take the paper from you and take no time in reading it, her expression calm. she isn't brought to emotional response easily - you were sure you'd never seen her flustered. she set the paper down with a thoughtful hum before looking at you, her gaze gentle. 'love isn't something i give easily or take lightly,' she answered, steady and serious, 'but if i didn't care for you deeply, you would not be here.' in another of situation or context, you'd have taken the words as a threat but instead, they calmed any frayed nerves. arle's way of showing how she feels is protective and pragmatic, something that doesn't rely on cheap words. she wouldn't give flowery words or pointless gestures - but she would make sure you felt valued in your relationship. 'yes, i do.' she finally admitted, her tone leaving no room for doubt, even as she turned away from you. 'you are mine, and i protect what's mine.'

❥ columbina.

immediately going off of your facial expression, she knew she didn't need to read the paper to know the type of question you had, a gentle, knowing smile forming. columbina is the most attuned to emotions, her own and others, especially yours. she would quickly be able to feel the vulnerability and doubt behind your written word. without hesitation, she collected your hand in her own, making sure to hold your gaze. 'yes,' she said easily, 'i love you more than words will ever be able to express.' columbina leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. 'you needn't doubt that,' she whispered, letting your hand go only to pull you into a hug, her eyes closing, 'i always will, beloved.' her love was soft, open and nurturing, a presence that never ceased and you almost felt guilty for doubting her. she had done her best to make sure you felt cherished and adored and she would continue to do so.

❥ pantalone.

he wouldn't question why you were suddenly handing him paper but he would be curious, eyes shining with interest as he read the question. panta is a man who sees emotions as secondary to his ambitions and goals, especially with his wealth and power. however, he wouldn't hesitate to admit that you, are different. this may be something that lead you to thinking you were more of a possession than a lover - he would be smart enough to figure out where the doubt blossomed from. folding the paper neatly, he set it down and let a thoughtful smile show, turning his attention to you. 'love, like any valuable asset, is not something i take lightly,' he began, head tilting slightly, 'but you, my dear.. are more precious than anything to me.' reaching out to you, his fingertips brushed over the apple of your cheek. 'yes,' he answered directly, 'i love you, and i will make sure you never doubt that again.' like the others, panta's love is often expressed through actions - keeping you comfortable and safe, your happiness being of utmost importance to him.

❥ il capitano.

he would take the paper without a second thought, reading the words slowly and feeling the weight of them. it would take him a moment to find how to answer, knowing if he was careless, it would bring you unnecessary hurt. love has never been something capitano was accustomed to, not when his life was outlined and defined by duty, loyalty and the cold fate of a soldier. he briefly wondered if love was something he could feel or understand. would he know if he was in love? after what seemed like an eternity, he would slowly set the paper down and look to you, speaking just as careful. 'love is a concept i have little experience with,' he began, his tone apologetic, 'i do care for you, deepy.. your wellbeing, your happiness. i want to keep you safe.' his answer would be straightforward, almost as though he was searching through his own words. he wished he could use the same pretty, poetic words he'd heard in passing, but that wasn't possible. 'if that is love,' he nodded slowly, 'then, yes, i do love you.' he wouldn't be as confident in those words as he wanted to be but he felt as thought it was as close to what you wanted to hear as he could get.

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yandere-writer-momo · 1 month ago

Text

This is more Harvey Dent centric, because I’m obsessed with him. So here is a part of something small, I can’t guarantee y’all make another part. I also noticed a trend with a neglected reader, so I wanted to do something different. I love the idea, and I might explore that in the future, but I wanted to do wife who was disinterested in Bruce. This is mainly a self indulgent piece. I hope everyone enjoys.

Harvey Dent would be so delulu. Fight me if you disagree

Yandere Batman Short Stories: The Heart Wants What It Wants

Yandere Harvey Dent x Married Fem Reader x Yandere Bruce Wayne

The chirping of birds filled the autumn air as Bruce sat at the dinner table in the Wayne Manor. His blue eyes studied the elegant figure of (your name) who enjoyed the breakfast Alfred had made.

“There’s rumors going around that you’re close to Harvey Dent.” Bruce’s fist clenched around his silverware to the point his knuckles turned white. His gaze narrowed at his plate.

“I do work at the legal office with him, Bruce. We’re coworkers.” (Your name) sighed as she rubbed her temple from the already oncoming headache. She’s been the Distict Attorney’s assistant for a few years now, so she wasn’t sure why it was an issue as of late… “Harvey is a really nice guy-“

“So you two are on a first name basis?” (Your name) sighed at Bruce’s jealousy. He had never been much of a fiancé prior to marriage and now he was a jealous husband. It made no sense to her since he had always instilled in her, since childhood, that there would be no romance attached to this arranged marriage their parents had set up ages ago.

“Bruce, I truly think you’re overthinking this. Harvey is just a really amazing friend.” (Your name) sighed. “If this is about the Wayne family image, you have nothing to worry about-“

“He’s in love with you.” Bruce’s blunt statement effectively cut her off mid sentence.

“Excuse me?”

“Mister Dent is in love with you.” Bruce repeated it as if that would magically make her understand his assessment of her coworker.

“What makes you think that?”

“The way he looks at you.” Bruce’s blue eyes are like a tropical storm of emotion at the moment. “You’re my wife.”

(Your name) sighed before she placed her silverware down and rose up from her chair. She cast Bruce a glare.

“On paper. There’s no romance involved in this arrangement, remember?” (Your name) walked through the door as she headed to her room to finish getting around for work.

Bruce sighed and put his forehead in his hand. He hated his younger self for what he had once told her… because he no longer felt that way.

Harvey came over to (your name)‘s desk with a bag of pastries in his hand.

“Good morning, (your name).” Harvey gave her a warm smile as he set the bag down in her desk. “I bought some muffins if you’d like one.”

(Your name) gave Harvey a weak smile.

“You’re always so sweet. Thank you.” (Your name) picked out a banana muffin, her fingers brushed against his for a brief moment.

“I think you deserve more sweetness in your life, (your name).” Harvey gave her a charming smile before he grabbed the bag. His blue eyes lingered on her for a few seconds longer than what was comfortable before he went to his office.

Harvey shut his office door before a blush enveloped his cheeks. Their fingers touched… god he was so pathetic. (Your name) was a married woman. Harvey couldn’t even have her… she had her fate chosen for her since a young age. One that he could not interfere with.

Harvey picked up his double sided coin off his desk as he absentmindedly flipped it. Would she have even chosen him if they would have been able to have a life together? Harvey didn’t have the same wealth as Bruce, but he would have been able to buy them a beautiful suburban home… give her a few children if she wanted them. The standard, American white picket fence life.

Harvey gazed at the files on his desk for his next, big case. (Your name) was truly a skilled and organized assistant, one he was grateful for. The two of them had worked so many long nights together on this… all for their mutual goal to better Gotham.

Harvey couldn’t help that he had fallen in love with her… he just wished she’d see his feelings. That they were soulmates- he was so corny.

Harvey was so pathetic for the way he felt about a married woman… but he knew she wasn’t happy. That it was all an arranged marriage. A union her parents forced on her.

Harvey could treat her infinitely better than some cold, Playboy billionaire. he would never run around on her, nor would he ever make her doubt that he had nothing but love for her.

(Your name) deserved to be pampered like a princess. She deserved soft and gentle… something Harvey was.

It was just such a shame he had been hearing strange voices in his head… perhaps they were merely auditory hallucinations from the stress of this upcoming case against the Falcone family?

Yes… that was it. Harvey Dent wasn’t a madman. He was a normal, upstanding citizen. The district attorney! Harvey “Apollo” Dent.

He was not crazy… even though he kept hearing a raspy voice in his head that wanted to snatch up his assistant for his own. She needed to be properly claimed and ravaged.

Harvey was just too scared of his own mind sometimes…

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Bruce always recalled memories of a younger version of (your name). Back when she still made an attempt to get close to him. To the times she’d visit the manor to check on him since he was always ‘brooding.’ Bruce appreciated the gestures but never outwardly expressed it.

(Your name) was always so kind and sweet… yet he didn’t want to fall in love for fear she’d leave him or she would perish. Bruce now saw this logic as flawed since another man was now in the picture.

Bruce would be damned if he let a man like Harvey Dent snatch up what was his.

(Your name) was surprised her husband waited for her when she came home. She sighed when Bruce came to help her remove her coat.

“What are you doing?” (Your name) didn’t even put up a fight when he gently slid the suede trench coat off her shoulders.

“Can I not help my wife take her coat off?” Bruce asked with a quirked brow. (Your name) hated when he’d act like a doting husband. He was never interested before so she wasn’t sure why it changed now.

“You’ve been odd… or are you afraid I’m going to run away for some fantasy love affair?” (Your name) laughed at the expression on Bruce’s face. “You’re joking… you can’t possibly be jealous.”

“So what if I am?” Bruce asked softly. “Feelings can change.”

(Your name) sighed once again. “Bruce, I’m not interested-“

“Is it because of Dent?”

“No. It’s not because of Harvey.” (Your name) glanced at him. “I… I just haven’t no interest in romance with you.”

“…” Bruce remained silent for a moment before he pulled her into an awkward hug. “Let’s work on it then. I won’t push you away anymore… let’s make this real.”

(Your name) furrowed her brow in confusion but she didn’t put up much of a fight. She was too tired to argue.

(Your name) sat in her office as she watched the news. Harvey had a huge case against the Falcone family… the two of them had worked on his case together for months on end. She was hopeful the Falcone family would finally be knocked off the map… but she was horribly wrong.

(Your name) audibly gasped when she saw the reporter loudly scream and explain that Harvey had just been attacked. How was she attacked? It was a court room…

Turned out, his witness, Sal Maroni, threw acid on half his face. What kind of monster would do that?!

(Your name) rushed up from her desk as she grabbed her coat. She needed to get to that hospital and quickly, Harvey would need all the support he could get.

Harvey woke up with a start when he saw he was in the hospital. Agony consumed his entire being yet he couldn’t understand the warmth he felt inside him- (your name)?

Harvey was shocked to see the beautiful young woman beside his hospital bed in a chair. Her other body draped on the mattress, her fingers into locked with his. Had she… spent the night? Was there a possibility she loved him too?

Harvey’s fingers brushed a few pieces of hair from her face, his breath hitched at the contact. This wasn’t a dream… yet neither was his accident.

Harvey felt a sense of pride fill him when he saw that her phone vibrated with notifications from her ‘husband.’ He wanted to gloat in the other man’s face but he was more concerned about his face at the moment.

It couldn’t be that bad, right? It’s not like (your name) would hate him… she loved him. That’s why she came to be with him… and he’d make sure she knew just how much he adored her too.

Bruce slammed his fist into the wall, a small hole now there like a centered frame. Why wasn’t his wife answering his calls? She was supposed to be home yesterday. We are on this green earth could she be?

Bruce angrily ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tugged a bit at the black strands. There wasn’t a possibility that she was with Harvey right? She told him that she wasn’t interested in Harvey that way… he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that ate away at his mind.

He needed to find (your name) and fast. Bruce had a sickening feeling that she wasn’t safe… he needed to save his wife.

(Your name) stirred awake to find Harvey with his fingers in her hair. Her brow fur as she set up, her lips drawn in a thin line.

“ Harvey? Are you all right? I didn’t mean to fall asleep…”

Harvey shook his head to reassure, the bandages obscured his handsome face from view. There was no doubt in her mind that his face was permanently destroyed from the acid.

“I’m… I’m here.” Harvey gave a dry chuckle. (Your name) could tell he was on a verge of a mental breakdown. One of his eyes was twitched while his hands shook. She couldn’t bear to see such a wonderful man completely fall apart when she was there to catch the pieces.

“Harvey… come here.” (Your name) held her arms wide open for him, the man melted instantly. His arms wrapped around her like the coils of an anaconda. His grip was tight and escapable as his body was sob.

Harvey couldn’t say a word as he held her like a lifeline, but there was only one thing that was clear in his mind… she loved him too.

It had to be fate that she felt the same way… now all he had to do was get her to leave her husband and be with him. Where she belongs.

The heart wants what it wants…

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absfawn · 2 months ago

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ㅤ ㅤㅤ❝ 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮? ❞

abby remembers the second the light in your eyes left. it was like yesterday. she remembers the night you showed up at her house, completely drenched, from head to toe in the rain, looking at her with the tears streaming down your face. even covered in rain, she could tell just how much you had been crying. she remembers how your hands shook as she helped you undress for a warm shower, and how you could barely hold the washcloth because of how cold your body felt. at first, she wasn’t sure why. why you cried your heart out the second she let you inside, how you clung to her body like she would disappear if she didn’t hold you tight enough. every piece of her broke each time you would grip her shirt in your fist, knuckles turning white, whenever she tried to pull you away just to get you in the shower, to warm you up, but you never budged. you didn’t want to let her go. ever.

she was quick, like she always is when it came to you, when you slumped onto the shower floor and held your knees against your chest, sniffling and whimpering into your arms. she didn’t care about her dry clothes getting wet, all she cared about was you and making sure you were okay. the stream of water covers her as she wraps her arms around your body and pulls you into her chest, whispering and reassuring you that you were okay. it wasn’t until you opened your mouth and uttered a soft, “we argued about you” that her body tensed, and her eyebrows furrowed at your words.

“me? why me?”

“why not? you’re perfect” you laughed, but it wasn’t your usual laugh she adored hearing, was used to hearing. it sounded so broken that all she could do was hold you tighter. “m’not sure, i think it makes her angry that i always come to you when m’sad, or when something is getting too much for me to handle and i never go to her. m’scared that i only trust you, and i can’t trust anyone else with my emotions,” you sucked in a deep breath and sniffled. “m’scared of my feelings, the ones i thought i had for her, the ones i have had for you for years and i hate that i keep putting all of this on you” you rambled, not fully understanding you had just admitted one of your confessions to your best friend.

abby was momentarily happy for this moment of confession because she’s been in love with you from the start, but she was also terrified. scared because right now you were too heartbroken and too hurt for her to drop the i love you bomb right onto you. “m’here for you, no matter what the problem is, you know that” she mumbled against your head. “you can bring your things to me, and i will try my best to help you through them, like i’ve always promised you.” even if it killed her to hold back her own feelings towards you.

“s’not fair on you” you couldn’t help but huff and roll your eyes at her. “m’always doing it. it just ruins everything”

“you need to stop thinking you know what’s not fair on me, and what is. that’s my decision, i won’t let you make that for me. m’here for you, no matter what is going on in your life, and in your pretty head, okay?” abby rubbed your back and placed a tender kiss on your temple when you nodded wordlessly. “now, how about we get out of the shower, i’ll find you something to wear, watch one of those shitty movies you love so much and eat ice cream?”

“i’d like that.”

abby was gentle and patient, like she always is, when she helped you dry off after she managed to get you from the bathroom to her bedroom, clothes already on the bed waiting as you fumbled with your fingers nervously. none of you had to say anything, her actions of getting you comfortable and warm were enough to express how much she cares about you.

she doesn’t rush you to get changed into something warmer, drier even, nor does she rush you to get comfortable in her bed as she makes her way into the kitchen just to find the ice cream you both always used to eat if you had a shitty day. thankfully though, by the time she makes it back to her bedroom, her pride and joy, her safe place, she finds you snuggled up under the blankets and already scrolling through endless movies that you aren’t sure if you really want to watch.

“did you pick one?” abby mumbled, placing her bowl of ice cream on her nightstand while passing you the other and chuckling under her breath at your soft gasp from the coldness of the fine china. “careful, it’s cold”

“funny,” you grumbled playfully and snuggled more into her bed. oblivious to her soft eyes watching you. “but thank you, and no, i haven’t picked one. they all look boring.”

abby doesn’t reply, just makes herself comfortable on the other side of you on her bed, your body on instinct snuggled more up to her side and slumped your head on her shoulder as you scooped up ice cream and shoved it in your mouth with subtle sniffles. “you feel better?” she couldn’t help but ask into your hair.

“a little, thank you for being here” you sighed and rubbed your eyes with your free hand. “s’not what someone’s night should be like, always having to fix me and put me back together again, but thank you.”

pressing her lips to your temple, abby doesn’t feel the way you sag more into her body, nor does she feel the heat rising in your cheeks at such a simple action. she’s forgotten all about her ice cream, as you eat yours and keep your eyes locked on the tv, still undecided on which move you’re going to watch. “hey,” abby whispered.

“hm?”

“i love you,” the meaning to abby was deeper than you’d ever know, but she wasn’t going to place something else on you while you were already dealing with a broken heart. so instead, she wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your head again. her thumb brushing against the skin on your hip that had you sinking more and more into her with each touch. “which means m’always going to be here for you. during the good and bad. i will do my best to help and guide you through the bad days, but there for you, supporting you through the good ones too. i just want you to be happy, and i will make sure i can help you get there. always. i love you.”

because loving you is the easiest thing she’ll ever have to do.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson drabble #abby anderson

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rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago

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Enough for You: Part 2

SUMMARY: After deciding you need time away, you ask Tyler for some space to process everything. During your absence, Tyler finds himself constantly thinking about you, realizing how much he misses your presence and what you mean to him. Struggling with how to approach the situation, Tyler begins sending you small, thoughtful gifts, hoping to keep some connection alive while respecting your need for time. Each gift carries a subtle message, his way of reminding you of his feelings without overstepping. Finally, unable to stay away any longer, Tyler shows up at your door, ready to talk and confront the growing emotions between you both.

WARNINGS: More Angst. (with a little fluff)

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

OTHER PARTS: PART 1

NOTE: There will be a PART 3! I have it mostly written and just need to finish editing it. Part 2 got away from me so I decided to break it up as to not have one crazy long fic.

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog

The team gathered around the RV, tension simmering beneath the surface. Things hadn't been the same since Kate joined, and you could feel the shift in every quiet conversation, every glance that Tyler cast in her direction. After the last storm chase, when Tyler sat next to you and apologized for breaking your heart, you knew it was time to make a decision. You couldn’t stay—not with the constant reminders of everything you wished for but couldn’t have.

After a sleepless night, you made your decision. You requested a leave of absence from the team—just two weeks to get your mind straight, to figure out if you could stay and watch Tyler build a life with someone else. When you approached Tyler, he looked at you with a mix of regret and reluctance, clearly not wanting you to go but knowing he had no right to stop you.

“I need time,” you said softly, your voice steady but your heart anything but. “I just…I need to clear my head, and figure out what’s next for me.”

Tyler's eyes searched yours, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “If that’s what you need,” he said quietly, “I won’t stop you. But…I’m gonna miss you around here.”

You nodded, knowing he meant it, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough, not when he had already chosen someone else. “I’ll be back in two weeks,” you told him, and without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, feeling the weight of his gaze on your back.

Tyler stepped into the familiar café, the warm smell of espresso and freshly baked pastries hitting him as he waited in line. He pulled out his phone, scrolling absently through messages and notifications, his mind elsewhere. You’d been gone for three days now—three long, silent days. The truck was quieter without your voice, without your little side comments or the music you always played to keep everyone’s spirits up during long chases.

Dexter had grabbed his coffee the first morning you were gone. He hadn’t even noticed at first—it wasn’t quite right, but he’d brushed it off. Just a small thing, nothing major. Today, though, as he stood in line, he realized he didn’t even know what he wanted. You always got his order just right without him even having to ask.

The barista behind the counter smiled at him, her pen poised over the notepad. “What can I get for you?”

Tyler opened his mouth, then paused. Was it a double shot of espresso or a single? Did he like anything else added to it? God, how had he never paid attention to this before?

“Uh…” he hesitated, trying to piece it together. “Just a regular coffee, I guess. With…sugar?”

The barista gave him a polite nod, but he could tell she was already moving on, another nameless face in the line of customers. He sighed as he handed her his card, feeling oddly unsettled by the whole interaction. Black coffee wasn’t right—he knew that much. He’d drink it, but it wouldn’t be what he actually wanted. Just another thing that wasn’t right anymore.

As he took the cup and left the café, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. It wasn’t the coffee that was bothering him. It was the fact that you weren’t there to get it right for him, to know the little things he hadn’t even realized mattered. It hit him, harder than he expected. He’d taken you for granted—your presence, your attention to detail, the way you just knew him in ways no one else ever did. And now, with you gone, he felt the emptiness in every small part of his day.

Tyler climbed back into his truck, setting the coffee in the cup holder without touching it. He sat there for a moment, staring at it, the silence around him feeling heavier than it ever had before. You weren’t there, and for the first time, he was starting to realize how much it bothered him.

The truck rumbled down the highway, the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Boone was riding shotgun, his hand casually scrolling through his phone as he played DJ for the drive. Tyler had barely noticed at first, too focused on the darkening sky ahead, but as the third song in a row played, something nagged at him.

It wasn’t that Boone had bad taste in music—he didn’t. It was just that none of these songs hit quite right. The rhythm was off, the mood wasn’t there, and Tyler felt an uncomfortable itch in the back of his mind, like something was missing.

The music was background noise, sure, but when you were the one picking the playlist, it had never felt like just noise. Somehow, you always knew exactly what to play. Whether it was an old classic rock song he loved or something new that perfectly matched the mood, every song you chose seemed to be one of his favorites. It was uncanny, really, how well you knew him.

Boone scrolled through another song, switching it halfway through. Tyler’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, the silence between songs suddenly feeling heavier.

“Everything good, man?” Boone asked, glancing over at him.

“Yeah,” Tyler muttered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. He didn’t say anything, but inside, his thoughts were racing. How had he never noticed before? All those times you were riding beside him, picking the perfect song, knowing his favorite tracks better than anyone else… It was like you could read his mind. Or maybe it was something else—something deeper.

Boone finally settled on another song, some alt-rock tune Tyler didn’t recognize, and the sound filled the cab again. But it didn’t feel right. None of it did. The whole drive felt off without you there beside him, smiling softly as you hummed along to the music, your eyes flicking over to him when a particularly good song came on.

Tyler’s chest tightened. You’d always been there, quietly in tune with him, noticing things no one else did. It was in the way you picked the songs, the way you knew when he needed silence, or when to play something loud to get his energy up before a storm. It was in the little things, all the details he hadn’t appreciated before.

How had he been so blind?

He thought about you now, at home, away from the team, from him. He thought about all those moments—so many little things that added up to something big, something he hadn’t let himself see. The music was just one piece of it, but now that he was noticing, he couldn’t stop. The playlist had always been yours, just like so many other parts of his life.

Boone’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You good with this song?”

Tyler blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah,” he said, though the truth was, no, he wasn’t. Not at all.

He missed you. And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Tyler's hand hovered over his phone, thumb tracing the edge of the screen as the truck rumbled beneath him. They were pulling off to the side of the road, another quick pit stop before the storm hit. The others were already filing out of the truck, stretching and talking about what was ahead as they made their way into the gas station for drinks and snacks. But Tyler’s mind wasn’t on the storm, or the chase, or even the team. It was on you.

He should call. He needed to call. He could feel the weight of your absence settling deeper with every passing mile, every quiet moment that used to be filled by your voice or your laugh. The last few days had been hell without you. Coffee tasted wrong, the music sounded off, and for the life of him, he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest.

His finger hovered over your name in his contacts, but then it hit him, hard, like a punch straight to the gut: those words you said to him before you left. “I just want to go back to before. Before I met you. Before I let myself believe that there was a chance.”

He closed his eyes, the memory slamming into him with full force. The look on your face, the tremble in your voice—God, how had he let it get to that point? How had he been so blind, so caught up in everything else that he never noticed the way you felt, the way you saw him? All those moments, all those signs, and he missed every single one of them.

The phone slipped from his hand and landed on the seat beside him with a dull thud. His chest tightened, shame twisting deep in his gut. You’d believed there was a chance. And he’d taken that hope and crushed it. He’d hurt you, someone who’d always been there for him, always knew what he needed before he even asked. You’d been everything.And all he did was break you. And he hadn’t been able to see it until now.

Tyler’s jaw clenched as he stared down at his phone. He could call you, tell you he missed you. He could apologize, say all the things he should have said before. But would it even matter? You were done with him. He could still hear it in your voice when you walked away—how tired you sounded. How heartbroken. He’d made you feel like you weren’t enough, and the truth was, you were more than enough. You’d always been more than enough.

He was the one who didn’t deserve you. He was the one who wasn’t enough for you.

His hand curled into a fist, the phone still lying untouched beside him. He’d been blind, selfish, wrapped up in his own world while you quietly slipped through his fingers. The thought of you never answering his call, of you moving on without him, stung like hell. But why would you answer? After everything he’d done—or failed to do—why would you want anything to do with him?

He let out a breath, heavy and shaky, feeling the full weight of his regret pressing down on him. He didn’t deserve you. Not after what he’d done. Not after how blind he’d been to how much you’d cared.

Later that night, Tyler sat on the edge of his bed, the quiet of his room pressing in on him. The team had settled in at the small motel, the storm still hours away from reaching them. Normally, nights like these were his favorite—calm before the chaos, time to relax before the adrenaline kicked in. But tonight, there was no calm. Just the heavy weight of everything he’d been trying to ignore since you left.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging open his duffel bag to pull out a pair of sweatpants. But as he reached for them, his hand brushed against something solid at the bottom of the bag. Frowning, he pushed aside his clothes until his fingers closed around a book—a book he hadn’t touched in weeks.

He stared down at the cover, his heart giving a sharp twist. The Self-Help Guide to Letting Go of the Past. He had forgotten all about it, shoved in the bottom of his bag after he’d lent it to you. You’d asked for it just last week, something about being curious, but at the time, it hadn’t made much sense to him. You’d never been into these kinds of books before.

Tyler’s thumb traced the worn edges of the cover as the memory of that conversation came rushing back. You’d caught him in the middle of a busy day, the two of you sitting in the RV while the rest of the team was setting up for the next chase. You’d looked almost nervous when you asked if you could borrow it, your voice light, like you were trying to keep things casual. He hadn’t thought much of it then, just handed it over without a second thought, teasing you a little about branching out into self-help.

But now, it hit him all at once. You hadn’t wanted the book. You hadn’t been interested in the advice it had to offer. You’d been looking for something—anything—to connect with him, to spark a conversation, to get his attention. It was just another one of those small things you did that he never took the time to understand.

His chest tightened painfully as he stared at the book, the realization settling over him like a weight he couldn’t shake. You’d been trying to reach out, to bridge the gap between you two, even when he was too blind to notice. And now you were gone. You’d given up, walked away, and he couldn’t blame you. How could he, when he’d been so clueless?

His breath came out in a heavy exhale as he tossed the book onto the bed, running a hand down his face. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have missed all these little moments that showed just how much you cared? The music, the coffee, the book—none of it had seemed like much at the time. But now, with you gone, they all felt like pieces of a puzzle that he hadn’t bothered to put together until it was too late.

He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on the book lying open beside him. He thought about calling you again, his phone sitting within reach on the nightstand, but the same thoughts stopped him cold. You wouldn’t answer. Why would you? You were done trying to make things work with him. And after everything, he couldn’t blame you for that either.

Tyler’s hand curled into a fist, his frustration building. He wanted to fix this, wanted to make things right, but how could he, when he’d already let you down so badly? He’d missed his chance, and the thought of that—of losing you for good—made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t felt before.

The next morning, Tyler sat on the tailgate of his truck, absently sipping his coffee as the team went about their business. They were prepping for the day’s chase, double-checking equipment and reviewing the radar. Normally, he’d be in the thick of it, but his mind kept drifting, pulled in a direction he wasn’t ready to face.

Lily wandered over, her brow furrowed slightly as she eyed him. "You okay, Ty? You seem…distracted."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee—too sweet, as usual. "Just got a lot on my mind."

Lily gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it. She leaned against the truck beside him, crossing her arms. "You know, it’s kind of weird. Things have been off since she left. I mean, I knew she did a lot for the team, but…it’s more than that."

Tyler’s grip tightened around the cup, his jaw clenching. He didn’t need the reminder. Every day since you’d been gone, things felt off. The coffee wasn’t right, the music wasn’t right, hell, he wasn’t right. But he couldn’t put it into words—not without admitting what he’d been too stubborn to face.

Lily didn’t stop there. "She always knew what you liked, what you needed—even when you didn’t say it. You might not have noticed, but the rest of us did." She paused, giving him a sidelong glance. "It’s kind of strange not having her around. Things just don’t…flow like they used to."

Tyler said nothing, his mind racing as he took in her words. He hadn’t noticed how much you’d paid attention to him, all the little details you got right. But now that you were gone, it was painfully obvious. The realization gnawed at him, twisting the knot in his stomach even tighter.

Before he could respond, Boone approached, his usual easygoing smile replaced with a more serious expression. "Tyler, can I ask you something?"

Tyler nodded, relieved for the distraction—until Boone’s next words hit him like a punch.

"What’s the deal with you and Kate?"

Tyler blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

Boone raised an eyebrow. "Come on, man. It’s obvious something’s up. The way she’s been hanging around you, and now that…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking to the side. "Look, everyone’s been wondering."

Tyler let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation—but the question hung in the air like an anchor, forcing him to confront what he’d been avoiding. "Kate and I… it’s just business. We work well together, but that’s it. She’s brilliant and could really be changing the game with this theory. I care about her, sure, but she’s not…"

He stopped, his words catching in his throat. But what? He didn’t know how to finish that sentence because the truth was sitting right there in front of him, and it was something he hadn’t wanted to face.

Boone’s gaze softened. "She’s not what, Ty? What’s going on?"

Tyler swallowed hard, the words heavy in his chest. "Kate’s not her," he finally admitted, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want to say it out loud. "The one I pushed away."

Boone nodded, his expression knowing. "You mean… her."

Tyler didn’t need to say your name. It was clear who they were talking about. He nodded, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions. "I messed up, Boone. She was always there, always…paying attention to everything, and I was too blind to see it. Now she’s gone, and I don’t think she wants anything to do with me."

Boone sighed, leaning back against the truck. "You know, Ty, you’re not the first guy to mess up. But you don’t have to be the guy who keeps messing up. If you care about her, you need to talk to her. And not through some half-assed text message or phone call."

Tyler glanced up, confused. "Then what do I do?"

Boone smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You have to show her. Show her that she means something to you. It has to come from the heart. Do something that proves you see her, that you care, and that you’re willing to make it right."

Tyler let Boone’s words sink in, the weight of it settling over him. He knew he’d messed up—badly—and now he wasn’t sure how to fix it. But the idea of showing you how much he cared, of putting action behind the words he’d never said… it was the first thing that made sense in days.

But could he do it? Could he find the courage to face you after everything, after knowing that he was the one who made you feel like you were nothing more than an afterthought?

Tyler stared down at his cup, the taste bitter on his tongue. He had to try. He had to show you that you weren’t just another person in his life. You were the one person he couldn’t stop thinking about, the one he never should’ve let go.

Tyler stood in the parking lot of a gas station, his phone in hand as he stared at the DoorDash app. He’d scrolled through countless options, debating whether to go with something safe like pizza or take a risk. In the end, he decided on the riskier of the two options

He remembered how often you talked about that Chinese takeout place near your apartment, the one you always craved after long days. You’d even convinced him to try it once, and he’d never forgotten the way your eyes lit up when the food arrived. The memory was clearer than he expected, and now, standing alone in a parking lot, he wondered how he’d managed to let someone who knew him so well slip through his fingers.

He couldn’t remember your order. But he remembered that it was something with chicken. He used the pictures on the app and his memory to narrow it down to the dish he thought it was that you liked. With a deep breath, Tyler hit 'order' and added a note for the driver to leave the takeout at your door with a message: "For the long days. I know you love this place. —Tyler."

He hesitated before sending it, wondering if you’d even accept the delivery. Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d throw the food out without a second thought. But a part of him hoped that you’d understand what he was trying to say—that this was his first step toward making things right.

You sat on the couch, the remnants of the Chinese takeout scattered across the coffee table in front of you. The familiar flavors had been a comfort, even if you were reluctant to admit it. When you first saw the delivery bag at your door, your heart had skipped a beat, reading the note that was attached.

For a moment, you’d considered ignoring it—pushing it away like you’d been trying to push away the thoughts of him. But after a long day, it felt easier to accept the gesture, at least for what it was: food. Nothing more.

Now, sitting here with your phone in your hand, you debated whether or not to send a message. It wasn’t like you owed him anything, but the gesture had been thoughtful in its simplicity. And a small part of you knew he wasn’t doing it to get something in return—at least, you hoped that wasn’t the case.

Finally, you typed out a quick message: "Thanks for the food. It was good."

You stared at the screen for a moment, your finger hovering over the send button. It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t emotional. It was just an acknowledgment. Before you could overthink it, you hit send.

A few seconds passed, and you saw the notification that the message had been delivered. No reply came immediately, and you didn’t expect one. After all, it wasn’t like this was going to fix things between the two of you. But somehow, sending that simple thank you felt like a tiny weight off your chest, even if it barely scratched the surface of the bigger mess you were still sorting through.

The next morning, Tyler paced around his room, racking his brain for the next move. The takeout had been a start, but he needed to do more. He needed to show you that he hadn’t forgotten the details, even if he’d been too blind to see them before.

His eyes landed on his phone again, this time opening a florist app. He wasn’t going to send roses. You hated roses. You’d said they were too cliché, something people picked when they didn’t really know the person. He wanted to send something that mattered.

Blue. Your favorite color. You’d mentioned it a few times, and while he didn’t know which flower you loved most, he figured blue would be a safe bet.

He scrolled through the bouquets until he found one that seemed perfect—a mix of blue hydrangeas, forget-me-nots, and white lilies. Simple, beautiful, and meaningful.

When he hit send, his heart pounded. It felt like such a small thing, but at the same time, it felt monumental. He was trying to show you that he was paying attention, that he knew you better than he’d let on.

The knock on the door was unexpected, especially after the Chinese takeout from yesterday. You weren’t sure what to expect this time, but as you opened the door and saw the delivery man holding a bouquet of blue flowers, your heart stuttered.

You took the bouquet, your eyes scanning the shades of blue nestled together in the arrangement. There were no roses—just as you’d once mentioned in passing. Instead, there were lilies, hydrangeas, and forget-me-nots. It was simple but thoughtful. He remembered.

As you set the bouquet on the kitchen counter, you caught sight of a small card tucked between the flowers.

“Not roses, just like you said. I hope you like these instead. –Tyler”

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you traced your fingers over the petals. For the first time since leaving the team, something stirred inside you—a mix of gratitude and maybe even the smallest bit of fondness. The forget-me-nots, in particular, caught your attention. They’d always been your favorite, and though you weren’t sure if he knew that or if it was just a lucky coincidence, it felt... special.

You sat down, flowers still in view, and grabbed your phone. Again, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But the flowers were different. They meant something more. He’d thought about this.

After a moment, you started typing: “The forget-me-nots are my favorite, by the way. For future reference…”

You hit send, and for a moment, you almost regretted it. Was that too much? But then you shook your head. No, it was just a small hint. A little crack in the wall you’d built. You weren’t letting him back in, but... you weren’t completely pushing him away either.

When your phone buzzed a few seconds later with a reply, you almost didn’t want to look. But curiosity got the best of you.

“Noted.”

It was simple, just like your message had been. But there was something in that word—Noted—that made you think maybe, just maybe, Tyler was trying to show that he wasn’t giving up. At least, not yet.

The sound of the doorbell jolted you from your thoughts. Another delivery? You stood up, your heart sinking slightly, bracing yourself for yet another gesture you weren’t sure how to interpret. When you opened the door, though, it wasn’t another delivery person—it was Tyler.

For a moment, you just stood there, frozen. Tyler was at your doorstep, looking both determined and vulnerable. He glanced at you, his eyes searching for something, maybe a hint of how you were feeling.

“Hi,” he said softly, as if unsure of how to begin.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting from the floor to your eyes. “I know this is probably the last thing you expected, and I know I don’t really have the right to be here. But I needed to see you.”

You stepped aside to let him in, your heart pounding. Tyler walked into the room, glancing around as if trying to take it all in.

“I want to start by saying that I’m truly sorry,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Not just for leaving like I did, but for not seeing how much I hurt you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and it’s clear that I messed up.”

You watched him, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. Tyler ran a hand through his hair, looking both pained and determined. “You know, I’ve been trying to adjust to how things are now, and I’ve realized just how much I miss you. Like, seriously. Boone’s music choices have been driving me nuts. It’s not even that he’s got bad taste, but I keep thinking about how you always knew exactly what songs I liked. And then there was the coffee—Dexter tried to get it for me, and it was all wrong. You always knew how I liked it. It’s the little things that I miss the most.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.

Tyler noticed and seemed to take a breath of relief. “And Kate… she’s a great person, but she’s just a professional colleague. I got caught up in this idea we were working on, and I was so intrigued that I didn’t see how it was affecting you. I should have never left the team like that. I’m sorry for that, too.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of hope and desperation. “But the real reason I’m here is because I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve had time to think about what I want, and it’s you. I love you. I love how you’re always there for me, how you know my favorite songs, how you care about the little things. I love your smile, your laugh, and even how you get annoyed with me sometimes. I’ve realized all the ways you’ve shown me that you care, and I’ve been blind to it.”

A heavy silence fell between you. Tyler’s eyes were pleading as he awaited your response. When one didn’t come after several moments he sighed. His shoulders tensed, and he began to fidget, anxiety evident in his movements. “Maybe I’ve messed this up. I didn’t mean to make things worse. I should probably just—”

Before he could finish, you stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Don’t,” you said softly. “I’ve waited a long time for you to say something like this. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

A smile of pure relief and happiness spread across Tyler’s face. He pulled you into a tender embrace, his lips finding yours in a kiss that spoke of all the words unspoken, all the emotions unexpressed. It was a kiss full of apologies, regrets, and hope for the future.

When you finally pulled back, you looked up at him, a sense of calm settling over you. “I love you,” you whispered.

Tyler’s eyes softened as he nodded, holding you close. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a breath. He then leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in another kiss.

As your lips finally part, the soft hum of shared breath fills the space between you. Tyler’s forehead rests gently against yours, both of you lingering in that quiet, electric moment. You’re still standing close to the door, the rush of the kiss slowly giving way to a deeper warmth—something steady and grounding. His thumb brushes along your cheek, his gaze locked on yours as though he’s memorizing every detail of this moment.

You both stand there for a beat longer, neither in a hurry to move or speak. But then, Tyler’s eyes drift past you, landing on the bouquet of blue flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter. His lips curl into a smile, a playful glint flickering in his eyes.

“I see the flowers made the cut,” he teases, his voice soft but with that familiar hint of humor. He steps back just enough to point toward them. “Did I do okay?”

You glance over your shoulder at the flowers and then back at him with a smile. “You did more than okay,” you say warmly. “But I think I still owe you a proper thank you.”

His brows arch in interest. “A proper thank you, huh?”

Before he can respond, you reach up, pulling him back down into another kiss, this one slower, more certain, like you’re sealing the promise of something new between you.

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