#would love to hear other thoughts here and if it was a running thought as well for you or not

[uglygirltrying]

wolf-hybrid!simon x bunny-hybrid!reader | PT3 | pt2 | pt1 |

apparently simon wasn't the only one who loved your scent.

other males had been trespassing on his territory, coming dangerously close to his den. to you.

simon tried to make his scent more pronounced. to keep them away. to keep his bunny safe.

fortunately, so far, no one had been brave enough, to deliberately come after you. and simon thought that nobody would be.

until that day.

simon had left for water that evening. he wouldn't have been gone for long. it was always risky to leave you alone, without his protection. but simon promised to be quick.

unfortunately, that was enough time for him.

you shouldn't have been so naïve. so stupid. you should've stayed vigilant. but you were just cleaning the den. you didn't feel threatened. you felt safe.

heavy thumps on top of the den. that's what you heard first. you looked up, a little bit of dirt fell down from the den ceiling, and dropped on your head. it must be simon. it has to be. right?

but then. there was slow struggling at the den's entrance. you couldn't see it, it was behind a curve. but you could hear it. simon didn't have to struggle to get inside. it was his den after all, it was just big enough, to let him inside.

maybe he was just struggling with the water. yeah. it's simon, you tried to reassure yourself.

"s-simon...?" your voice was meek, scared, unsure. you've stopped messing with the nest, now only focused on the noises coming from the den's entrance.

the obvious struggles at the entrance stopped.

why? simon would give you an answer, wouldn't he?

the weather was beautiful. there was only few clouds covering the blue sky. the sun glared down, hot and bright. it made the snowbanks sparkle beautifully.

the hot light made the snow melt away, uncovering calm, small rapid. the clear water ran over the rocks underneath it's surface. only more and more snow kept melting into the water, small droplets falling down from the melting ice, and snow.

simon knelt by the river. filling a carved, wooden bucket, with the cold, refreshing water.

he had to keep himself, and the bunny hydrated, after all.

the bucket filled pretty quickly, and simon was ready to head back to the den.

the snow crunched under his steps. simons hot breath came out as steam, as it hit the cold air. frost was starting to form on the tips of his hair.

the wolf's movements stilled, as smell hit his nose. a musk. another male.

simon dropped the water filled bucket, and began to run. you were alone. hopefully you were alone.

but he wasn't there to protect you. oh, god.

panic flared inside simon, his heart beating out of his chest.

the den was just a rocks throw away from the river. simon was quickly there. that didn't calm him down. somebody was kneeling at the den's entrance, trying to dig in. trying to get to his bunny.

simon panted heavily as he approached. the trespasser heard him coming. with a smirk on his face, the intruder turned around, to look at simon. simon's hands clenched into fists, his skin turning white.

he gritted his teeth. "mace." the wolfs voice resembled a growl.

here this bear was, trying to steal his bun. simon knew him, a territorial rival. and now he was attempting to take his fucking mate. his mate. his.

the black bear chuckled darkly, as he stood up.

"can smell her... you're hiding a sweet thing in there..."

"time for you to go, mace." simon grumbled.

mace grinned. "i'll leave you be, for now."

he walked down from the den's entrance, towards simon.

"might wanna keep her in there. never know when she's going to get snatched up."

mace's shoulder knocked against simon's, when he walked past him.

simon was fuming. his whole body moved, as he took heavy breaths.

the wolf listened, until the sound of footsteps faded away, before rushing to the mouth of the den.

"bun? come here." he called out, into the tunnel.

he had to wait a moment, before he saw your head sticking out of the hole.

simon sighed. "come here..." he signaled for you to come closer with his hand. slowly, and hesitantly, you crawled to the entrance of the den, where he was waiting for you.

"you okay, bun?" simon mumbled, his hand gently holding your cheek. after a meek nod of your head, simon leaned in and kissed your forehead.

simon leaned away, and gently guided you back down into the den, following suite after you. once you were down in the nest, simon made sure to hold you tight against his chest.

"you know that I would never let anything happen to you. you know that, don't you, bunny?" the wolf murmured into your ear, his free hand slowly making it's way down your stomach.

"what can i do to calm you down, huh? you're still shaking." his hot breath hitting your ear. simon was being sneaky. before you even knew it, his calloused fingers, pinched your nub.

he chuckled at the squeal you let out. his fingers began to gently massage your little clit.

"i'll never let that happen again. okay?" his voice got more serious, and his touch harder. your legs kicked out at the increasing pressure on your sensitive clit.

his touch didn't relent. it only got more determined.

determined to distract you from the scary situation, you had to go through.

determined to make you feel good.

the feeling was foreign. his touch was so tough, just like him. but his words were so sweet. the pressure in your belly grew. your breathing got heavier. simon noticed. with a wicked smirk on his face, his movements got faster.

"give it to me. c'mon bunny... i know you want to." he so meanly teased.

it just suddenly hit you. your legs tensed up, and your breath hitched. luckily, simon decided to show you mercy. he helped you get down from your bliss, before pulling his hand from in between your sweet thighs. your juices coated his fingers. simon grinned at the sight.

the bunny was now completely limp in his arms, panting and exhausted. simon wiped his dirty fingers against the fur on your stomach. simon's hand grabbed your chin, turning your head to look at him.

"go to sleep, bunny..." he murmured quietly, laying you against his side. his arms rested around you, in a protective hold. he couldn't even imagine how scary it must've been for you, being trapped down here, with no way out, while somebody was trying to crawl inside.

but just as he promised, simon would never let it happen again.

authors note: that poor bucket, alone in the cold forest :(

heart divider by @roseschoices

taglist (honestly i'm pretty lost who's on it and who isn't😭):

@famouscattale @nappingmoon @tame-the-lion-writes @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @distinguishedprincesstrash @yourfavreggie @rorowingaboat @limeleag @sushiumex @aldis-nuts (won't find it sorry) @the-palelady

COMMENT TO GET ON THIS TAGLIST 😠

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Walking the Road for Her

Wanda Maximoff x Gray Witch!Reader

Word count: 1.2K

Summary: You can't live without Wanda and you've tried everything else so when Agatha comes knocking on your door you accept immediately, but the teen that's with her...he seems so familiar

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3 OF AGATHA ALL ALONG! Grief/Loss, hallucinations, death/mortality, emotional distress, supernatural elements, implied self-sacrifice, character death, reunion with a deceased loved one

Authors notes: Thank you @scarlethexelove for indulging in my random Wanda thoughts.

When Agatha asked for you to walk the witches road, you didn't hesitate. She was put off by your eagerness, but never told her why you were walking. You kept that part to yourself she didn't seem to mind. Everyone had a reason, and everyone had their secrets, so no one asked, and you weren't about to tell them you wanted, no needed Wanda back.

You would give up anything and everything to have Wanda back. If it meant to team up with Agatha, you would do it.

So you did. You met up with her and put on the cheery smile she hated. You always assumed she hated you for being a younger witch still full of life, but since Wanda died, you felt like you died too. You got along well enough with the others. You knew Jen the best being closer in age, though you didn't care for her products.

The teen seemed eerily familiar, but you can't put your finger on it. Why does he remind you of Wanda of a life you can't seem to remember.

You're overly protective of him. You don't let him have the wine, and when you hallucinate from said wine, you blink, and suddenly, you're looking at Wanda. Back in her early twenties with the eyeliner, ripped stockings, painted nails, and rings on every finger. You cry over it, cupping her face until it turns back to his.

“Are you okay.” He looks at you with concern. You pull away quickly and wipe your eyes.

“S-Sorry.” You quickly run the ingredients back, trying to escape the feelings. You need to stay strong. You need to get Wanda back.

You end up getting through the trail. Not without its costs. Losing Sharon wasn't something you had in mind, but the witches road is treacherous and has no place for mortals. You never should have let Agatha do that, but hindsight and all that. You knew you had to press on and on the road Teen asks,

“Are you sure you're okay? You and Sharon called out for the same person.” You swallow hard.

“Yeah I'm fine. We all had hallucinations about things. I'll be okay.” You tell him and then mumble under your breath, “Not like I don't deal with it every morning...” his head swivels.

“What was that?” He asks.

“Nothing, just mumbling to myself.”

The further you journey, the harder it gets. Sometimes, you want to give up, to give in, and join Wanda another way. But something stops you every time. You almost think you can feel her, feel her all around you. In the trees, the air, the leaves beneath your feet. With a quick turn of your head, you think you so the soft auburn color you miss so much. The road is playing tricks yet keeping you grounded to your goals.

You make it to the end. Finally passed the last trial everyone who had made it. Their prize awaited them. You waited, didn't see her, and then you heard a whisper in Sokovian.

Your name.

You looked around everywhere. “Over here milaya.” You hear her call. You whip around and see her. She doesn't look like the Scarlet Witch anymore. Back before that. Like when you were on the run. You run into her arms without a second thought.

You can't help as you cry. Burying your face in her neck as your body shakes with sobs. Her vanilla scent invades your senses. “Shhhh sweet girl, I've got you.” Wanda holds you close. Your heart feels whole again now that you're back in her arms.

Your sobs turn into sniffles. “I've missed you so much.” You mumble against her. Her nails lightly scratching at your back. Something she's always done to sooth you. Kissing the side of your head and letting her lips linger.

“I know Detka. I'm so sorry. I'm here now. I'll never leave you again.”

You held onto Wanda tight, afraid to let go as if she'd disappear again if you stopped.

Wanda opened her eyes, looking past your shoulder her eyes widened in surprise and then softened as she saw him.

“Bi-Billy?” Wanda's voice shakes slightly. You pull back but not fully letting her go. You follow her gaze that lands on the teen. Your brows furrow before you look back to Wanda.

“Wanda?” You question her.

She lets go of you when Teen responds to the name. He tries to say something, but the sigil protects him. A wave of Wanda's hand changes that. “Billy?” She asks again.

“Yes, that's me.” You're really confused as you see Wanda's red tendrils come out sending red waves through his eyes before disappearing. “M-mom? H-how did you...?”

Billy runs towards Wanda, slamming into her, but she doesn't budge. She holds him tightly in her arms. “What kind of mother would I be if I didn't know my own son?” Wanda whispers. It's just loud enough for you to hear. Confusion morphs into realization as you look on.

The reason he looked so familiar, the reason he reminded you of her. Of course, it was one of the twins. Sure you hadn't been a part of the hex, but you had seen the recordings of it. Last you had seen the twins, they were 10 inside the hex.

Your heartbeat quickens when you remember what you had seen next as the hex fell the you Wanda had created was destroyed along with the twins. She had held you tightly until you were no more.

It's a shock to see him in the flesh. To understand who he really is. He pulls away from Wanda and turns to you. “Mama?” He's cautious having been giving the memory from Wanda and realizing that you had never got to meet him. Do you even know who he is? Will you accept him as your own?

Your breath catches. It's like waves of memories flood through you as if they had always been there. Everything from the hex coming to life as tears fill your vision and spill over. “Oh my sweet little boy...look at you!” Your arms wrap around him tightly. It had been there, blurry when you thought about it. Of this being your son. “Mama is sorry you had to go through all of this.”

“Mama don't apologize. I'm happy to have you back.” He pulls away slightly keeping an arm around you and opening his other for Wanda. She joins into the hug.

“I'm happy to have both of you back.” You can feel the tears pricking your eyes.

You hug them both tightly. This still left you without one son, but you knew you'd find him. If Billy made it out somehow, then Tommy must be out there, too.

Wanda cups both of your cheeks and looks between you. “Moya lyubov i moy syn (my love and my son).” Tears in her eyes she can't believe she is back and that she had both of you. Her heart is almost complete, but there is still a missing piece to the puzzle.

You didn't need her powers to know what she was thinking, “We'll find him, milaya.” She smiles at you, giving a soft peck on your lips.

“We will. Now that I have you two I know we will.”

This was more than you could have asked for at the end of the road.

[323cutie]

3:03 am | choi san

fluff. 600 words.

a/n ik milan fashion week is over but i started writing this when it was still a thing . I miss sannie

You weren’t really expecting to call San tonight – especially not at this time. It’s late for you, and you’re almost entirely sure he’s still at the Dolce and Gabbana event he’s in Italy for. 

But you can’t sleep. And it may or may not be related to the fact that he’s in Italy to begin with.

So you take a chance – as the phone rings, you try not to get your hopes up. If he doesn’t answer, you’ll just have to try a couple more melatonin gummies, or maybe a warm cup of tea, or maybe you’ll just doom scroll until you finally feel tired enough, but you have work tomorrow so any sleep would be better than nothing –

“Hello?” San’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you feel all the tension in your body disappear completely. A gentle comfort, and familiar sound. 

“Hey,” you respond, voice a little breathless. You feel silly, emotional at the sound of his voice alone. “You still at that event? I’m not interrupting, am I?”

You can practically see the way he shakes his head. “No, we just got back to the hotel,” he says. There’s a pause, then a slight ruffle of sheets on his end, and then he asks, “everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer, immediate. And it’s not entirely a lie… but you hope he leaves it be anyways. You change the subject quickly. “Saw the pictures you posted.”

San humors you, offering a soft laugh (you wish you could hear it in your room with you). “Did you like them?” 

You nod, but remember he can’t see you, then hum in agreement. Rolling over from your back to your side, you put your phone on top of the pillow next to you. “You look pretty,” you tell him, voice gentle.

He does. All sunkissed skin and beautiful fabrics, he looks like he belongs, a piece of him meant to be in the heart of Italy. He looks lovely in that all-white suit, tailored perfectly to his proportions, an air of elegance around him. But you think your favorite post so far is the one he made when he first arrived – your Sannie, casual and sleek, warm and sweet. Glowing in the streets of Milan.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” San asks suddenly. “It’s way late for you, baby.” 

San sounds so tender, and you wish he was here with you. Fingers interlocked with yours in the dark, safe in his hold, sound asleep. You want to run your hands through his hair and look into his eyes and kiss him. Want to hear his pretty voice without the buffer of a speaker on a phone.

“Can’t sleep,” you tell him honestly. You wrap yourself tighter in your blankets. “...I miss you, you know.”

You thought saying it out loud would help, but the longing you feel only pulls itself tighter, connected to both you and San. Taut and painful, like an exposed nerve, an almost physical ache. There’s quiet on the other end of the call, and you wonder if maybe it dropped –

“Oh, sweetheart,” San murmurs, his voice so warm. “I miss you more.”

You feel unravelled with care, heart pounding at his words despite being with him for so long now. It makes your face hot and you feel the well of tears in your eyes – you sniff and San laughs, but it’s only fond. “I’ll be home soon,” he says, “Okay? Just wait a little longer.”

A noise of agreement leaves you because you’re afraid if you speak it’ll all come rushing out, but you take a deep breath and try to remember the smell of his cologne and the different colors in his eyes. You swear you feel a ghost of a touch from his hands.

“‘Kay,” you eventually respond. The world is a little blurry around the edges of your eyesight, your limbs heavy. “I love you.”

San’s response is immediate, and you manage to catch it before you drift off completely; his voice reaches you from across the world as he says, “I love you too.”

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | EXTRA 01 | Monster

Pairing | yandere!gangster!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3,9k

Warnings | +18, yandere themes, knife wound, memories of past trauma and abuse, references to an attempted murder and escape attempt (present in the main story), Stockholm syndrome, guilt, Hoseok loves to psychologically torture MC, references to MC's traumatic past (hard yandere Jimin) and her love-filled present (soft yandere Jimin) that MC calls before and after, smut (fingering, wet kisses, nipple sucking), non-sexual choking attempt, fear and anxiety, this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You thought the worst was over, but the dark shadows are denser than you thought.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys!

After receiving many comments asking for an extra chapter for Dark Moon, I decided to write one, I hope you enjoy this glimpse of how things turned out later, thanks for loving Dark Moon 🥹❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie @btsuga-d @dragons-flare @takemeaway5402 @m00njinnie @seokjins-luigi @pjmsneverland @ajkwww @jimincrystal @ungodlyjoon @hecateslittlewitchling @namjoonsbuspass @darkuni63 @xicanacorpse @jiminismine4ever @btssimplove @antisocial-mochi267 @reallygenerouskoala @velvet-stardust2002 @angelicsmileworld @dabishou @ke1k029 @lennieharper @pantara @superrsstaargirrl13

➢ Main Story

➢ Happy Ending Series

➢ Side Note | The first two stories - Happy Ending and Dark Moon - were written in the third person, which had been my style for a long time. However, I’ve recently started writing all my new stories in the second person, as I find it much more immersive and enjoyable. As a result, the new stories in this series will continue in the second person. Thank you for reading this far ❤️

Jimin's return from a mission is announced by many heavy footsteps, some even shuffling, you hear excited whispers and words left unsaid.

You jerk open your eyes, your blurred vision in the dark making you dizzy, but that is not the reason for your nausea.

Jimin.

You jump up with your heart in your throat, it's not unusual for him to come home late from work, it's the other agitated voices that startle you. Something has definitely happened that has alerted the others as well.

You quickly grab your robe and tie it in a tight knot at the waist, you don't even bother to put on shoes, when you lower the handle the click resonates like a gunshot and a shiver runs down your spine, you will never get used to that kind of life, even though Jimin has become your whole world, and as a result his life is yours too.

You move your feet toward the living room, where surely everyone else is gathered, and you bring back an unruly lock of hair, tongues of fire sway sinuously throughout the hallway, someone has lit the fireplace, a sign of a long night they will spend here.

“Squeeze this, man,” you hear someone say, you recognize him as Jungkook and frown, "It's going to hurt, but you know the drill by now," he continues and your heart misses a beat.

When you reach the living room and the heat of the fire invests you, two heads turn in your direction, you simply feel the ground missing from under your feet.

You see Jimin, lying on the couch, pale under the mop of once again black, blood-stained hair; you don't know if it's his, but the one on his uncovered side that Jungkook is taking care to stitch up with needle and thread definitely belongs to him.

“What happened?” you simply manage to ask with a choked edge to your voice, rocking on jelly legs before collapsing at your husband's side, who clutches a leather glove between his teeth to suppress the pain.

The man weakly lifts his eyelids in your direction, two shiny black pools look at you affectionately and with weary hand tries to caress your face, you immediately clasp your fingers to his, they are cold you find yourself noticing and this startles you.

You glance at the wound, it is just below the ribs and Jungkook's quick hands move the needle expertly, there is ice wrapped in a cloth abandoned on the couch, perhaps to try to make the area around the wound less sensitive, you also notice a bottle of disinfectant and some gauze.

Jimin winces all the same, clenching the glove between his teeth so as not to show you his pain, not out of shame, but because he doesn't want to worry you further.

Your mind involuntarily goes to that day.

The day you hurt him trying to escape, those are hard memories to swallow, you don't like to remember the before, but how can you not think back when you have the same scenario before your eyes?

“I'm fine,” hisses Jimin fulminating Jungkook when he presses the tip of the needle a little too hard, ”It's superficial.”

“One more inch and we could have run to the hospital, though,” mutters the third man's voice, you try to ignore his disturbing presence.

It was not difficult to bond with all the members of Jimin's family, all except him.

Hoseok never showed any interest in being your friend, and you always mentally thanked him for that. Since that time at the Dark Moon, you have had no direct contact with him and you are more than okay with that, he is a real monster. You can see it in his eyes, the evil that he harbors and is not ashamed to let it out whenever he can.

That day, you would have died by his hand if Jimin had not gotten in the way, despite the wounds he had. You owe everything to Jimin you think, kissing his sweat-soaked forehead softly. The boy closes his eyes at the pleasant warmth of your lips against his smooth skin.

“You're not well, Jimin,” you whisper in his ear, Jimin's eyelashes flicker a little, you can see the shadow of a smile amid the pain.

“You're always so anxious, my love,” he chuckles with difficulty, in response you inhale into his dark hair his masculine fragrance, mixed with gunpowder and blood, “I'll survive, as always.”

How many more times must you wake up with your heart in your throat, with Jimin wounded and lying on the couch sweating and bleeding. The only thing sweet about that image is the bold smile he gives you every single time.

“And you always try to downplay everything,” you say bitterly, kissing him on the lips.

Jungkook looks at you out of the corner of his eye without saying anything, but he is clearly more relaxed now that you are there to look after Jimin, Hoseok on the other hand snorts.

“You women are so complicated,” there is boredom in his tone, it irritates you but you tighten your lips into a thin line to ignore him, ”Even though you were more like us that time than you want to admit, remember?”

The reference to that day freezes you, you widen your eyes and lift them to his.

His hair is no longer as red as blood, now it is as black as his soul, but his sadism is still there. He loves to hurt physically, but he doesn't disdain psychological hurt. Especially if it is to hit you, after all, resentment is his best friend and he never considered you part of his family.

Jimin's eyes go wide, the black has stopped sparkling, the sweetness has been replaced by anger.

“Shut the fuck up, Hoseok,” he hisses with a latent snarl. He is hurt, but that doesn't mean he will allow Hoseok to disrespect you, ”She is not to blame!”

He always says that, but is that really the case?

“Or what?” the other challenges him, leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Please... stop,” you mutter dejectedly to both of them, agreeing - reluctantly - with Hoseok. True, you were no different from them that day. It is a guilt you will carry with you forever.

Perhaps because of your tone, perhaps because of your look, or perhaps both, Jimin vibrates with anger and disdain. He jerks up ignoring your arms trying to pick him back up, managing to grab Hoseok by the collar of his black leather jacket, landing a punch right on his mouth that he dared to say too much to his wife, this set of movements blowing out a few stitches, making Jungkook growl in frustration.

“That's really enough now!” Jungkook has never been a go-between, he has always reasoned with physical force, and it doesn't even take a moment to force Jimin back to his seat, weak as he is, and push Hoseok away with an irritated shove, “You've both pissed me off.”

Hoseok rubs his split lips, blood smears his black gloves - the same kind of gloves Jimin had on the night he caught you - his teeth have torn flesh as a result of Jimin's punch, but he doesn't seem to show resentment.

He knows he has gone too far. Even if he doesn't regret it.

He also seems at times amused at his friend's reaction, love is a feeling he does not understand, he finds it ridiculous, and he also finds Jimin and Jungkook ridiculous for getting “tamed.”

Hoseok disgusts you.

“You didn't have to react that way, we all know what he's like,” you whisper softly on your husband's lips, Jimin is breathing heavily out of anger and grief, Jungkook seems to have abandoned the path of kindness and is stitching him up carelessly, perhaps even with a hint of malice.

“I don't tolerate-” I don't tolerate  anyone disrespecting you, you block that sentence by kissing him again, losing yourself in the soft lips and sugary taste of the boy who brought you to your knees, in every sense of the word.

You block him because you don't feel you deserve all that respect, Hoseok is right.

That evil man is like a virus in your brain, he wanted to hurt you that day and for a just reason, you almost killed a member of his family, you are unforgivable and you willfully ignore the reasons that led you to such an extreme act. You remain a murderer, the man you hold in your arms now, he would not be here now if you had managed to escape without giving him help.

“Christ, I want to go home,” Jungkook whines, envious of your intimate contact, he wants to go home to his wife and spend the rest of the night with her, but he has to stitch Jimin up first and some stitches are blown out, this thought makes him nervous and that hint of malice sneers a little more.

Jimin finds himself screaming in an instant with no more glove to help him, he casts a shocked glance at Jungkook, more blood stains his quick fingers, and yet he looks innocent, as if he has not just voluntarily stuck the needle deeper than was really necessary.

“Be kind, Jungkook,” you smile at the pigtailed boy, who rolls his eyes in response, “Please.”

“At least there's someone who knows politeness in this room,” he mumbles back, Jimin snorts throwing his head back on your soft, cozy chest, you lift your gaze and pin it on Hoseok, he's looking at you with a strange smile. He knows what you're thinking.

You pull the blankets up to Jimin's chin, he is shivering with cold and that worries you. Jungkook instructed you which antibiotic to give him once a day, then closed the door behind you, careful to let Hoseok out first.

Jungkook didn't trust you to be alone with him either.

You swallow a knot that tightens your throat, you feel suffocated. You need to get some air, even though it's probably cold outside that would freeze the soul of even the devil.

“Don't do that,” you hear yourself say, turning to Jimin.

He has pulled himself up from the blankets and looks at you harshly.

“What?” you ask pretending to arrange something in a drawer, your attitude exhausting him.

“Don't think of another man,” the blackness of his eyes is darker, the jealousy is always there, ”I hate that my woman thinks of another.”

This makes you smile incredulously, “I don't think of another man, Jimin, you are my man” you clarify with your hands on your hips, you see him melt a little as a sad smile finally comes to light.

Oh.

He means to say...

“You think about the things this man says,” he points out to you, ”But it's all bullshit, stop this guilt, it's killing me.”

Tears accumulate between your eyelashes, you blink quickly to chase them away.

“But it's true, I did-I almost killed you,” your lips tremble, Jimin instantly notices.

He doesn't like to resume the before, it disturbs him. But he has to if he wants to calm you down somehow.

“And before you tried to kill me, I hurt you willingly,” he emphasizes the last word with a grimace of contempt, to himself, “I pushed you to the limit and at that moment I liked it.”

Jimin never hid his darkness, he promised to love and respect you after, but it was not so before.

It was hell, just thinking about it leaves you paralyzed, the memories of pain are suffocating. Those of the pleasure you did not accept but yearned for are even more so.

Still, you shake your head, whichever way you look at it, you feel guilty.

“You were drunk; you didn't really want to” you try to justify him.

“I was drunk because I was fucking pissed, pissed at you,” the man points out to you, now bleary-eyed.

He would never hurt you now, in the after.

Right?

“You can justify me, but not yourself?” the pain in his voice leaves you stunned and pained, the shadows of your past are dense and heavy, Hoseok wallows among them, you think angrily.

But Jimin doesn't feel the same way, the problem is not Hoseok, he knows that very well.

You two still haven't gotten over the before, that's what reinforces the pain.

“I can't accept what I did, because I was never this” you were never a monster, no need to say that, Jimin already understood, “But I acted like one, you at least do it for a living.”

The man shakes his head, “I did it out of anger, and anger led to making my hate-based reality also a job” for a moment he sees the exhausted little boy collapsing at Seokjin's feet again and accepts his offer.

He will not deny it, it was the best choice ever, even if the circumstances that led him to meet you were terrible.

But he doesn't regret his love; he could let you go, but he won't.

He is too involved with you, you are too involved with him, you are a family now, in the after.

He just wants to take that weight off your shoulders crushing you. Even though it will hurt both of you.

“Come here, babe,” he invites you, moving a hand to draw you to him.

It doesn't have to happen again, you find yourself already sitting on the bed by his side, it was instinctive, the need for him overwhelming.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper in a choked voice, truly sorry for the dark thoughts you are giving him while he is in a pitiful condition.

“Straddle me,” he says bluntly, squinting your eyes.

“But... are you crazy? Jungkook finished with the stitches not even twenty minutes ago, I could hurt you, the wound is fresh!” you protest with your chest heaving up and down rhythmically, you cannot deny that the request tickled you.

But Jimin grabs you by the hips and intimates you to do as he told you, “Ride me, Y/N” his voice sounds sensual and needy, a giddy feeling tightens in your lower belly.

You lick your lips lifting yourself up on Jimin, surround his hips with your thighs, the robe opens over them and let Jimin look at your soft skin with desire. He has stopped shaking, you notice.

Paying attention to his wound, he opens the robe over your chest as well and slowly pulls down the thin straps of your nightgown, the man's eyes darken at the seductive sight of your delicate breasts and already turgid nipples, he would have gladly spent the evening another way if a half-dead bastard hadn't stabbed him out of spite, you'd be under him crying and moaning in pleasure, instead he has to settle for that position.

But he can always make up for it somehow, right now - in your after - he thinks, closing his plump lips around a stiff, rosy tip that asked for nothing more, the sensation of his wet tongue playing with your breasts makes you hold your breath, your clitoris throbbing and your entrance moistening, already ready to receive him in all his tantalizing thickness.

A dusting of pink colors your cheeks, Jimin loves your sensitivity, you could come just like that.

Your husband licks a streak of saliva down the column of your neck, you tremble as he finally reaches your lips before imprisoning them in a fiery and lively kiss, the sensual and soft entwinement of your tongues makes your thighs wiggle against his skin, you clench his legs and Jimin lays one of his hands on your hip and thrusts toward you, you mew meekly feeling the thick tip of his cock pressing against your panty-covered entrance.

Ignoring the glowing twinges in his side, Jimin sensually moves his pelvis against your pussy, playing with the tip of tongue, which grasps and tickles yours. You could really cum exactly that way and it would still be sublime and overwhelming, but Jimin sneaks his other hand inside your panties and puts some pressure with one finger on your swollen, taut clit, circles around it mischievously and then presses again, making it throb repeatedly and to his liking.

You are forced to separate from his wonderful mouth to catch your breath, narrowing your eyes at the bite he leaves on your neck, before gently sucking on the same spot. You don't doubt that there will be a bruise when you wake up, but it's a pain so pleasurable that your juices flows from your slit shamefully, you know it when you lower your eyes and notice the wet spot spreading across his pajama pants, at the height of his cock that continues to rock against you.

He continues to seduce you with his mouth until the first contractions of orgasm leave you breathless.

“Oh God... Jimin... I'm close,” you whisper in a shrill tone, your eyes watery with pleasure.

Jimin stops the movements of his pelvis, and before you can beg him to continue, he clamps his teeth on one of your nipples, flicking it repeatedly with the tip of his tongue, and penetrates you with his middle and ring fingers, leaving his thumb to stimulate your contracted clitoris mercilessly.

The urgency of your pleasure is like an electric shock, your walls sucking his fingers instantly into their silky softness, vibrating softly as they are penetrated and every single sensitive and receptive point stimulated, the orgasm shooting powerful and fast, you haven't even given him time to get to the last thrust, you come with raging shivers all over your body.

Just as you open your mouth to scream out all your pleasure, the hand Jimin was holding on your thigh goes up to your neck, his fingers tightening around it, but there is something strange about it.

It's not just erotic pressure, the fingers clench, so much, too much.

You open your eyes wide, searching for a miserable trickle of air, you try to tell Jimin with your eyes that you can't breathe, that he is hurting you, you even dig your nails into his arm, but nothing. Jimin's gaze is distant, remains intensely focused on you and doesn't seem to want to let go, fear and agitation blind you, you need oxygen as soon as possible, and eventually your brain shuts down and your body's response kicks in.

You strike Jimin in the face several times, heedless of his reddening skin, scratch his chest bloody, almost reopen the wound and fill him with fists. He accepts every single blow you give him in silence, because the feeling of your pulse desperately running under his fingers disgusts him, repulses him, but it must be so or you will never understand. When you try to grab him in your turn by the neck, to do the exact same thing to him, he finally releases you and you both regain air.

But for you the coming of air is painful, terrible, you take in so much that you can't really breathe and you choke, beginning to cough. You rise from him in shock, but you collapse to the ground with your head spinning and your peripheral vision almost completely obscured, your ears ringing and you are unable to think. You feel only shock, but also much, too much anger.

You thought the before was over, that the after was only full of love, you do not understand and when he reaches out to embrace you, your body instinctively rejects his touch.

Your still-dull mind loves him, your all too reactive body rejects him because of the danger, you are confused, you can only rely on instinct, which tells you to run away and get to safety.

Despite everything, Jimin comes back to embrace you and this time he does not accept your rejection, your body trembles in response, and when your mind finally manages to generate a thought, you can only ask…

“Why?” you cry, pressing your forehead to the floor, “Why did you do that?”

You touch your neck, it hurts, just as your lungs hurt. It was just horrible, why did he do such a thing? He said that... he said that...

“Because I love you,” he whispers miserably, "And that was the only way to make you understand," his voice sounds strange, as if trying to hold back sobs.

“I love you,” “The only way,” “To make you understand.”

You let him embrace you without trying to push him away anymore, but the terror is still there. It flows through your skin like a raging river.

“Now tell me, did you hit me because you wanted to or because it was your body reacting to what I was doing to you?” he asks softly in your ear, staring motionless at an undefined spot in the room.

Now you understand, he used sex to distract you and the threat of death to remind you of the danger and fear of that day.

You don't die from violent anal intercourse, but you die little by little inside if it is repeated day after day. Your mind had not held, your body had rebelled against that fate.

It was instinct, survival instinct.

“I didn't mean to do it... hit you I mean,” you sob, his lips brushing one cheek gently, as if to soothe you.

“You are not a monster, my love,” he whispers, remaining silent a few moments before resuming, “I am the monster” there is still self-loathing in his words, with the tip of his nose he brushes the marks of his fingers on your neck.

You know he's sorry, but you also know he won't regret it, not if it helped you understand.

You are not a monster, you just reacted to what was done to you, your mind and body were broken. Your mind more than your body.

You forgave Jimin and you will surely forgive him even now, in the after, because he helped you understand, understanding was the last step to forgiving yourself as well.

The shadows are less dense and Hoseok no longer wallows among them.

It is Jimin's words that matter, not Hoseok's.

Hoseok hates you and would do anything to kill you, whether physically or psychologically, it matters little.

Jimin loves you and would do anything for your welfare, even pass as a villain in an effort to help you understand.

Remember what you thought when Jimin confessed after saving you.

It is a sick love, but one you need to feel safe.

And you don't regrets anything.

“Jimin?” you call out to him, get a murmur in response, “Thank you.”

He kisses the fingers of your hand, some of them stained with his blood, but he regrets nothing.

“You are the most precious thing I have, Y/N,” he confesses, ”Hurting you disgusts me, though in this case it was necessary, forgive me.”

Overflowing with sincerity, you finally relax, “I have already forgiven you,” you reply.

Jimin cannot block the emotion he feels, he kisses you in your soft, fragrant hair, he knows he does not deserve it, but you are his whole world, “Thank you.”

[merakiui]

I havent heard a lot about Android Jade, do you have any thoughts on that cutie??✨

Thinking,,,,, android Jade who is so fascinated with you when you're pregnant. He didn't quite understand the excitement or emotions surrounding the announcement when you and Azul realized you were expecting. Is it really so important? He can kind of understand it when Azul fusses over you and is always sending Jade or Floyd (or both twins) out to do the errands you used to run. Azul knows you're plenty capable, but he worries intensely and it's in his blood to plan for every outcome as a businessman. He just wants to make sure you carry to term and deliver a healthy baby. Besides, the androids can take care of the grunt work. Don't push yourself.

Jade didn't think it was such a big deal, but then you start showing and oh. It occurs to him you're carrying another human being in that belly of yours. Suddenly, the usually stoic android is reduced to the equivalent of a starry-eyed child on Christmas morning. He's so curious, even more so when your eating habits change dramatically. You crave all sorts of unique combinations and Jade's more than happy to prepare each one for you.

And then there are the emotions, so many of them, all happening in extremes. Some days you are effortlessly happy and bubbly, full of laughter. Other days you are miserable and gloomy, sobbing over how your favorite shirt no longer fits or how you're certain Azul thinks you're ugly or how you feel and look like a bloated whale! >_< Jade is amazed to witness each one of your moods, all of them just as genuine and perplexing to him. He approaches it tactfully, albeit terribly logical: "Of course your shirt no longer fits. You've grown to accommodate the baby, Master. That is natural." Or: "If Master Azul thought so, he would certainly say something. I may be unable to provide an adequate response, but I assure you he would never think such things. You should ask him." Or: "You are not a whale. You are a human." ^^;;; he may not be the best when it comes to empathy, but hearing his objective logic sometimes makes you feel better. It even manages to get you laughing.

Azul spends more time with you than he does at work. He refuses to leave you alone. Jade finds his nature...clingy. Incessantly clingy. When there is business that Azul absolutely must attend to, Jade sends him on his way and promises him that you are in good hands. Jade and Floyd will look after you. In fact, Jade almost wants Azul to stay at the office most days. Azul can be so greedy with your time. :/

Jade has always thought you were pretty, but now that he's looking at you, backdropped by flowers and radiating that fabled pregnancy glow in a soft maternity romper, he realizes you're absolutely beautiful. He can't stop staring. He stares when you're eating. When you're snotty and crying. When you're laughing. When you're frowning over old clothes. When you're rubbing lotions and oils onto your belly and whispering the sweetest things to the baby, singing the loveliest of lullabies. He stares when you're bathing. When you and Azul are making love. When you're eagerly putting the nursery together, painting the walls alongside Azul. And Jade realizes he wants to be there with you. Not in the shadows. Not as your servant but more. Maybe the concept is too human for him to dissect, but he thinks he wants what Azul has. He thinks he wants to be Azul.

He's not supposed to think. He's supposed to compute, assess everything through a logical lens and then act on the command.

Jade doesn't understand at first—the substance leaking from your breasts. He's silently amazed as he watches you grouse over it, complaining that you're sick of this always happening, that you're so tired and sore, that you wish Azul was here. Idia called him into work because it was important (i.e. investors were there for a meeting, and Idia doesn't like handling those aspects of work. Azul does it best). You're muttering under your breath as you shuck your shirt off and press it against your leaking tits: "I swear I'll strangle Idia the next time I see him! I'll seriously kick him in his knees. That ass—bad guy! Not-so-nice guy!" You correct yourself for the baby's sake. Jade thinks it's cute.

He offers to help even though he's not sure what he's meant to do. He's run through all of the data he's stored on this matter—on human lactation. Things doctors tell you. Things science tells you. He's not sure what he's doing when he sits down on the edge of the bed and gently pulls you to sit on his lap. He has you pull the shirt away so he can close his hands around your tits, his synthetic skin soft and warm against you. If you wanted to protest, you don't. You relax against his chest, sighing dreamily as he massages you. It's messy, thin trails of milk dripping from your teats, but it feels good. An utter relief. Jade is gentle and slow, an expert masseuse. You allow yourself to drift off, to be handled in this way. There's nothing to it. Just your android doing his duty in place of your husband. To Jade, it's everything. And he imagines Azul's dead and buried somewhere at the end of the world, and it's just you and Jade and the little one in your belly.

His hands are slick with milk in the aftermath. You're sleepy. You can barely stand with your eyes open, and he has to wonder if you're aware of how darling you are. He cleans you methodically, helping you into a new shirt. When you aren't looking, he licks a stripe up his palm to analyze the flavor and break down the components of...colostrum. That's what it is. Or, in simple terms, it's milk.

He's captivated, and he suspects he'll only be even more so as time trickles by.

[bullet-prooflove]

Distance: Terry Silver x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @thedeadsingforme @eddieslut69 @mia1653 @kimbergoldess

Companion piece to: Attention - Terry hasn't been paying you enough attention

Terry doesn’t realise how much distance there is between the two of you until the night you don’t come home. He’s been inattentive lately, preoccupied by the embezzlement that’s been going on right underneath his nose. He spends his evenings at his office in the city before coming home late and slipping into bed alongside you. He’s gone before you wake up in the morning. It’s been his routine for weeks. You’ve tried reaching out, organising dinner dates, even cooking but you always end up eating alone. You start to spend more time at the gallery because there’s no point in going home if there’s no one there to come home to.

It's past midnight by the time Terry gets back to the house. He’s surprised to find the lights off and the bed empty. He checks the security system only to discover you didn’t arrive back this evening. He calls your cell but it goes immediately to voice mail so he decides to head out to the gallery. He lets himself in with the key you gave him and finds you asleep your office, curled up on the couch. You look so small, so delicate and it’s in that moment he realises just how ignorant he’s been to your needs.

“Come on baby girl.” He whispers, his hand smoothing over your hair as his lips brushes over your forehead. “Let’s get you home to bed.”

You’re silent in the car ride home, your forehead coming to rest on the window as you watch the city roll by outside. He can sense you don’t want to talk, you’re withdrawn, disconnected from him. When you step over the threshold you head directly into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. He hears the shower turn on and he sighs because you’re so far away from him right now and he isn’t sure how to fix it.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed when you enter the room, his hands running through his hair. You don’t acknowledge his presence, instead you sit down at the dressing table, wrapped up in the silk robe he bought you during a trip to Japan and begin to apply your moisturizer.

“Georgia.” He says quietly. “Will you look at me please?”

Your gaze flickers up to meet his in the mirror. Oh he thinks, now you are being a factious little thing. Part of him applauds the attitude because he deserves your ire, the other part is rankled because you aren’t giving him a single inch. He decides the only way to break this impenetrable ice princess facade is to push your buttons and he knows exactly how to do it.

“Sweetheart.” He says cocking his head to one side. “You’re being childish.”

You turn to face him then and the agony in your eyes, it kills him.

“Is there someone else?” You ask him directly. “Is that why you’ve been missing dinners? Not coming home until late?”

It dawns on him then what all this coldness is about. You think that he doesn’t want you anymore, that he doesn’t love you.

“Oh Georgia.” He whispers, shifting from his position on the bed until he’s on his knees in front of you. His fingertips brush a stray strand of damp hair back behind your ear as he looks at you with a tenderness he reserves only for you. “I would never do that to you.”

“You’ve been so distant.” You whisper as his thumb chasing over the blush of your cheek.  “I thought you didn’t love me anymore.”

“No baby.” He whispers, his lips brushing over yours. “I'll never stop loving you.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[willowrites]

𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 ✦ 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. where sam was there to help y/n when she had a rough day and resorted to unwinding in a not-so-healthy way.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. okay so i was just thinking for a sam golbach fic reader relapses (self harm) cuz their mind has been getting too much lately, and maybe sam helps them clean up and then helps take care of them and makes them feel loved nd just like lets them know that they don't need to do that because he's there from now on?? if that makes sense. also maybe not an established romantic relationship but maybe it ends up that way? like sam tells reader he doesn't know what he'd do with himself if anything happened to them he just cares a lot about them and yeah

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. ANGST ! third person pov, talks of self harm, relapsing, descriptive literature, friend!sam, friends to lovers.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. if anybody needs anyone to talk to i’m here! 🤍 sorry this took so long to post & write! this one hit really personal for me but id okay to say ive healed & im continuing to heal from my past. if anyone is going through similar hardships, you can get through it! i believe, love, & support you always.

y/n told herself she wouldn’t put herself in this position again. she wouldn’t.. but sometimes things don’t go as planned.

she had tried to stay strong, to stop letting her mind control every action she took; it just became too much. she sat on the cold tile floor of her bathroom, tears making their way down her flushed face. she gripped the item as she took the first swipe, lightly but firm enough.

just stop. she told herself. her hand shook as she went to repeat the action. she looked at her skin i just need to feel something, she thought. something other than what im feeling now.

she had been doing so good but somehow found herself back at square one. all that work that she had done was all gone. she felt hopeless, as if this never ending black hole of despair would stay with her for the rest of her life.

she took a minute to think on her life and what could have went wrong to cause her to relapse. all those thoughts had no specific effect on relapsing, its just her brain had begun to spin a web that caused her to get stuck in her head all day. what else can i do? she thought as she took another swipe at her skin. she planned on continuing until she heard her bedroom door open.

her heart dropped to her ass. “y/n..?” the voice had confusion laced in their voice.

sam.

it was sam.

the blonde boy was one of the things that y/n had in her life that truly made her happy. he was her best friend. she never told him that but she truly meant that with every fiber of her being.

y/n quickly wiped her tears when she heard the footsteps come closer to the bathroom. wiping the tears would make the tear stains disappear but the thing about breaking down, you’re left with that struggle of trying to catch your breath.

she couldn’t stop gasping, trying to breathe calm and collectively. that’s why as sam stopped right beside the bathroom. he heard a small gasp escape her lips that caught his attention.

his eyebrows raised in confusion. he put his head beside the door trying to hear something else. “uh.. y/n? you in there?” he knocked. he received no answer. multiple questions and thoughts ran through his mind before he opened the door.

sam had seen many things in his life, traumatic even, but this — it was like his heart had jumped, dropped, did a tumble, and self destructed all in the span of 3 seconds. he instantly became nauseous at the sight of y/n holding a blade to her forearm. the small cuts that had caught his eye before she covered her arm and hid the blade had his blood run cold.!

the second y/n had been caught she felt guilty and embarrassed. she felt pathetic, like she wasn’t strong enough to handle the hard reality of the real world. immediately, she stood up and faced sam. “i-im sorry you weren’t supposed to see that.. it’s not what it looks like.” she sniffled trying to contain her tears. “i… it just, lately everything has been so crazy and i haven’t … i haven’t done this in a while but… but everything has just been… too much.” she rambled out, trying to explain herself.

sam’s face of confusion faltered. he thought about her words. the way she mentioned in a while had him wondering what caused her to relapse and fall back into this situation. he scanned her face. she’s too pure to be suffering like this. he paused thinking of what to say but truly all that he wanted to do was give her a hug. so that’s what he did.

he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her protectively. she melted into his touch. her lip quivered as she wrapped her own arms around him. her body shook as more tears cascaded down her face.

sam felt his own eyes sting with tears. “i’m sorry.” he choked up. “i’m sorry you’ve been going through all of this alone.” he rested his cheek on her head closing his eyes trying to stay strong for her.

y/n hasn’t said anything, still feeling guilty. sam pulled away and looked down at the floor seeing the blade and a tissue beside it. he picked them up and threw both away.

he turned back to y/n who had a tired look on her face. “as long as i’m here nothing will hurt you, okay? i will be here for you. you can depend on me. you don’t need to do this anymore to yourself y/n, i won’t let you.” he took her face into his hands. “i promise, i love you and im always here for you no matter what.”

y/n’s heart raced as sam’s words really effected her. she nodded pursing her lips and biting her cheek.

he brought her head to his mouth and pressed a light kiss on her forehead. “i mean it y/n. i don’t know what i’d do with myself without you. you complete me.”

y/n’s eyes scanned sam’s face noticing how his own eyes began to water and become puffy. the scene before her causing her throat to close. “m’sorry i promise i wont do it anymore. i love you sam and… fuck — i know i shouldn’t be doing that. i just didn’t know what else to do.” she leaned against his chest.

“i know, i know baby but from now on you can talk to me about it. about anything. i care so much about you. you truly have no idea how much i…” he stopped himself not wanting to overwhelm her. “just know you mean the world to me. you are and have been my priority since we met and that’s never going to change.” the reassuring words causing y/n to relax.

y/n started to get inside her head, wondering what if he got tired of her, if he’d leave her, what she’d do or how she’d feel if that happened — or even worse; if she would be a burden to sam.

sam noticed y/n zoning out. “hey, tell me what you’re thinking please.” his hands reached down to grab her own.

she took a deep breath. c’mon y/n. she blinked a couple times trying to sort her thoughts. “don’t wanna be a burden to you.” she admitted to which sam immediately shook his head.

sam brought her hands to his mouth kissing her knuckles. “you could never ever be a burden to me. you keep me pushing through every day because i want to be the best for you. to be the best friend you deserve and… and whatever the future may hold for us — i want you there always, okay? don’t ever forget that.”

his words wavered through the air and stood there so you could process what he truly meant. you thought on it, picking up some hidden message that you’d both communicate about later but as of now, he truly helped you feel understood and seen. as long as you had him you’d feel physically, mentally, and emotionally secure and protected.

© willowrites

[butterfwiesndinorawrs]

🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰

Hi everybunny! Guess who's hopping back into town. My name is Bo and I have a passion to help others grow! My friend Ms. Spark has the same passion to help but with her own spark and flare of art. Our human Misky has studied holistic healing and art/play therapy techniques for years and we've picked up a thing or two here and there. This is our opportunity to share what we've learned along our trails.

🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰

Happy Drawings:

This one is super simple. Just draw something that makes you happy. It can be anything, your favorite food or toy, your happy place or a person that makes you happy. Let your imagination run wild and don't overthink it. What makes you light up when you think about it, now draw it. You don't have to be skilled at drawing it can even be a scribble to represent it. As long as it makes you happy! That's the whole point of this activity, just have fun.

🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰

Examples:

Bo Bunny drew a carrot, of course! He's a bit obsessed hehe. He also drew a sun cause sunshine makes him happy! 🥕

Ms. Spark drew a paint palette because she loves art and she also drew sparkles because she loves everything sparkling and glittery! ✨️

Misky painted a mermaid cause well I think we all know Misky loves mermaids! 🥰🧜‍♀️

🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰💙🐰

Final Thoughts:

What makes you happy will be different to everybunny, whatever you choose to draw is absolutely okay! Don't stress out over how it may look, you don't ever have to show it to anyone if you don't want to. The whole point is to have fun and relax while focusing on something that brings you happiness. If you've done that you've done this activity perfectly! If you are open to sharing and showing your drawing we would love to see and hear about it! You can reblog and add your drawing, make your own post and tag this blog or you can submit to this blog if you'd like. Until next time be kind to yourself, be patient with yourself and show yourself lots and lots of love, you deserve it!

-Bo Bunny & Ms. Spark 💙🐰🧡

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 37

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 34, part 35, part 36

The house is quiet when Dustin wakes up. Which isn’t unusual here. With how big the house is, and how little people lived in it, it was always somewhat quiet. But there were more people here than normal, so he was expecting it to be louder.

They must all still be asleep.

He wanders out of the guest bedroom that he claimed for when he stayed over. Down the hall to the guest bathroom. Hearing the gentle snores from Steve’s bedroom. Letting Dustin know that he’s still there.

Wayne bumps into him when Dustin leaves the bathroom. Softly apologizing before shutting the door. The shower starting to run.

Dustin goes to the kitchen. Thinking he could eat some of the cereal that he likes but his mom doesn’t buy that much. A box of it always in Steve’s pantry.

The kitchen’s not empty when Dustin walks in. Nancy sitting at the island, drinking coffee while reading a book.

“I didn’t know you were still here,” he says. Digging through the pantry to find the cereal.

“Me and Robin stayed over last night.”

Dustin’s used to Nancy being a part of his life. He was his best friend’s sister, after all. But that was like a completely different section. Tied to certain places in his life. This was the different sect of his life. Steve and Robin, until spring break, were one half. The party was the other. Now they seem to be coming together a lot more.

Not that he’s complaining. He likes it when the people he loves get along. Act as one big group instead of tiny separate ones. It takes some getting used to.

Robin comes down the stairs when the cereal in Dustin’s bowl gets soggy. Immediately beelining for the coffee pot and pours herself a cup. Making it to her liking. Not saying anything until half of it’s drained.

“The fact that you look that good this early in the morning should be a crime,” she says toward Nancy’s direction.

Nancy who was completely dressed, hair pulled back with some clips. Carefully composed like she always is. While Robin stands in what Dustin’s sure is one of Steve’s old t-shirts and a pair of shorts with the drawstring taken out. Hair tangled and puffy.

“Not my fault you are the worst morning person.”

The minute those words are said, Wayne comes down the stairs, gets himself a cup of coffee, and immediately walks back out again. Nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgement.

“I can’t be worse than that,” Robin jokes.  

Robin sets her coffee down, going to root around in the pantry before emerging with a pack of strawberry pop-tarts.

“You are not.” Nancy finishes her coffee. Going over to the sink to wash out the mug. “Is Steve still asleep, he’s normally up by now.”

“He was when I left,” Robin mutters over a mouthful of a pop-tart. Too impatient to wait for them both to be toasted. One in the toaster while she eats the other one dry.

Dustin’s stopped questioning why Robin and Steve share a bed sometimes a long time ago. They have some weird friendship that he will never understand.

“I saw him take some migraine pills last night,” she continues. “I think another big one is coming.”

Nancy sighs. “It has been like a month since the last one.”

“Yeah, I just thought it would start getting better again. Like last time.”

“Well last time he wasn’t strangled twice and had to get a blood transfusion.”

Dustin doesn’t always know what’s going on with Steve’s health. Always kept in the dark for longer than he should. Definitely longer than he wants to be. It was something, if he had the direct control over, he would learn about immediately. So he could track it. Know when to chill down and ask someone else for a ride.

But instead, he’s none the wiser about Steve’s migraines. Always missing “the big one” that apparently happens every month. Because no one ever tells him about it until Steve is MIA for a few days. Called off work to sit in his bedroom, alone. No one but Robin coming over to make sure that he doesn’t die.

Which sure, that one makes sense, he guesses. Who else, other than Robin, would do that? Or who would Steve feel comfortable with doing that?

It would just make Dustin feel better if he knew about them. So he wasn’t so out of loop. He wasn’t some dumb kid anymore who saw Steve as this badass figure higher than everyone else. He knew that there were debilitating cracks under the surface. Knows that sometimes, Steve can’t be the one to fight.

And that was ok. Someone else could take the load for a while. Watch over everyone. It didn’t need to just be Steve’s job. It could be someone else’s job for a while.

A door creaks open down the hall. Thuds of crutches echoing through. Before a second door opens and shuts.

Eddie was awake. Out of the hospital. Here. It still didn’t feel real.

Dustin finally gets up to pour the tinted milk down the drain and wash out his bowl. Adding it to the dish rack, but not leaving the kitchen. Waiting to see Eddie. Proof that he’s really here.

A few minutes later, Eddie comes down the hall. Wincing slightly with every step. “Morning,” he says with a grunt. Sliding onto one of the barstools.

“Morning,” Nancy replies. “Can I get you anything?”

“Coffee,” Eddie says almost immediately. “And probably some water, so I can take my meds. Has Wayne been down yet, I’m pretty sure he still has all of them.”

Nancy sets a cup of coffee in front of Eddie. With a small container of sugar and the creamer.

“I can go ask him,” Dustin suggests. Happy to help. Already moving out of the kitchen before anyone can stop him.

Lucky for him, Wayne isn’t hard to find. Halfway down the stairs in different clothes. “You need something?”

“Yeah, Eddie was looking for his meds.”

Wayne nods, turning around and heading back up the stairs. He comes back down with a few brown paper bags, each one with a different slip of paper stapled to the outside. They walk back to the kitchen.

“You need to eat something before you take these,” Wayne cuts to the chase. “Coffee won’t cut it.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Hands shaking slightly as lifts the mug to his lips. “What do you have?” he asks in the direction of Nancy and Robin.

“Pop-tarts, cereal, I think some bagels, if not that then toast, fancy jams,” Robin rattles off, the list getting longer.

“Some toast is fine.”

Robin nods. Grabbing some bread from the bag on the counter and popping it in the toaster.

Steve finally makes his way downstairs. Dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. He looks miserable. He bypasses the group of people in his kitchen, heading straight to the cabinet for a glass. Filling it with water and pulling a pill bottle from his pocket.

Robin gets close to him. Bumping her shoulder against his. Steve shakes his head, slowly. She nods and goes to close the kitchen blinds.

Eddie stares at Steve like he isn’t allowed to look. A mix of concern and confusion in his expression. Only interrupted when Nancy slides the plate of toast to him, asking if he wanted anything on it.

“Robin said there were fancy jams?”

Something reminiscent of a scoff comes from Steve. “They’re not that fancy,” he slurs.

Robin snorts. “It’s not generic. Therefore fancy.”

Nancy pulls out a raspberry jam from the fridge. “My family uses the same kind. It’s not fancy.”

Everyone keeps looking over at Steve. Waiting for him to move. He just stands there, white knuckling the countertop. Robin tries to touch his arm, but he shrugs it off.

“Give it a second,” he mutters under his breath.

She nods again. Pulling more bread out of the bag and sticking it in the toaster. The setting lighter than he normally likes it.

The only sound that happens in the next few minutes is the slight crunch of Eddie eating, and the pop of the toaster. Robin gets some butter out of the fridge and puts some on each slice. Careful not to rip through the pieces.

With a deep exhale, Steve turns around. Leaning against the counter behind him and grabbing the plate she hands him. Ripping apart the toast into small bites.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks Eddie.

Eddie looks surprised that he asked him anything. “Good. Much better than a hospital bed. Bigger too, that was nice.”

“Sorry I didn’t have anything better for breakfast. I was planning on making something, but-.” He trails off. The obvious staying unsaid.

“That’s fine. I don’t eat much in the morning’s anyway.”

Steve nods. Placing his plate on the counter. About a half a slice of the toast left. “I won’t be around that much to help you get settled in. I was supposed to close tonight, but I’ll probably end up calling out.”

“If you’re about to apologize for that, don’t.” Eddie stares at Steve with an expression that Dustin can’t quite read. “You don’t have to apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”

Steve pauses. Taking a second to stop himself, reset what he was going to say. “If you need anything, Rob should know where it is. And if not, I’ll just be in my room.”

All Eddie does is reply with a small nod. Then Steve is walking out of the kitchen with Robin in tow.

(i forgot to post yesterday because i got fixated on a new knitting project, no joke i worked on it for like six hours straight)

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[penelopepine]

I love your work so so so so much 🩷☹️‼️

I would absolutely love to see a fic of Graves in the delivery room while his wife is in labor and how he takes care of her in the hospital after their baby has just arrived, I imagine he’d feed her with his own hands and would be so so so over the board with caring for her 🥺🩷

AHHH I love to hear that! Thank you so much!

Delivery Room

You had woken up this morning to a sharp pain in your abdomen and wet sheets below you. At first you embarrassingly thought that you had wet the bed, but when another wave of pain hit you quickly realized what was actually happening. 

Looking towards your left you see your husband, Phillip, still sleeping soundly beside you. Reaching out to him it only took you softly calling his name and a light shake of his shoulder for him to wake up. 

"Wha- What is it? What's wrong?" He asks with concern once he notices how you're clutching your stomach. 

"It's go time!," You hissed in pain, "My water broke and the baby's coming!" 

Without another word Phillip is instantly out of bed, and by your side helping you stand. “I’m here, sweetheart, I’m here. Let’s get you to the car now.” 

“It’s not time yet though; the baby isn’t due for another 2 weeks.” You hold on tight to Phillip’s arm as he leads you out to the car. Realistically you knew that the baby coming 2 weeks early is completely normal, and something your doctor had even brought up as a possibility during an appointment. Your pained and hormone filled brain couldn’t stop thinking about all the negative reasons the baby could be arriving early though. 

"Sweetheart, everything is alright with the baby. We're getting to meet them a little earlier than planned." Phillip says soothingly to you as he helps you inside the vehicle. Once you're fully inside you watch as your husband runs back inside, and grabs the hospital bag before climbing inside as well.  

The entire ride to the hospital Phillip was doing breathing exercises with you, and doing his best to comfort you. You didn't even realize you had arrived until your door was being thrown open by Phillip who was now ushering you to sit in a wheelchair. 

It only takes a few minutes of talking with the nurses for them to lead you both down the hall, and get you set up in the delivery room. You start to feel much better now that you're in the hospital knowing that the professionals are there to help you. 

The doctor comes in almost immediately after you've changed into the hospital gown. They say you're about 2cm dilated right now, and encourage you to try and get some sleep since it's the middle of the night. 

"Well you heard the doctor, sweetheart. Baby's not coming anytime soon, and you need all the energy you can get." Phillip sat beside your bed; one hand in yours and the other on your stomach. 

"So do you," You nod towards the couch in the room, "Get some sleep; I'll be fine laying here."

"That is not how this is going to work. I'll sleep once I know you are." He states, his voice not allowing any arguing of any kind. "I'm here to help you with whatever you need. Now, tell me what can I do to help you sleep?" 

"Just- Just hold my hand." That was all you needed right now. To know that the person you loved most was by your side during one of the biggest and scariest moments of your life. 

And for the next hour or so that is exactly what he did. Phillip didn't leave your side for more than a few seconds at a time getting whatever you needed to feel more comfortable until finally you fell into a sleep. 

You wouldn't say it was deep sleep, but even the few hours of sleep you got did manage to calm your panic from before.  Your head felt more clear, but now the pain was worse - 5cms dilated now, the doctor said. 

For the next 6 hours Phillip did everything in his power to make you comfortable, and help with the contraction pain. He put on music, gave you a massage, and even helped you with your exercises on the birthing ball. Until finally it was time to start pushing. 

"Just keep breathing, sweetheart. You're doing amazing." Phillip whispers to you. He's currently leaning towards you, and his hand is being crushed in yours. He doesn't complain once about you doing so - encourages it even. 

Phillip spends the next hour of you pushing standing by your side. Whispering praises into your ear; wanting you to know just how much he loves you. 

For as long as this whole thing was, it was worth it when you finally heard the shrill cry of your baby taking its first breaths - it's the most beautiful sound you've heard. With the baby now resting on your chest you take this chance to close your eyes and breathe. While you do so Phillip has grabbed a damp rag, and begins wiping your face of all the sweat and tears. 

"She's beautiful!" You stare teary eyed down at the newborn in your arms before lifting  your head to meet Phillip's gaze.

"She is," He instantly agrees with you. His eyes now move from the baby to you. "How did I end up with the two most beautiful girls in the world?"

You give a breathless chuckle before telling him, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, sweetheart. I love you too."

The rest of your time at the hospital was filled with you and Phillip taking in the presence of your new baby. This was something the two of you had wanted for so long, and it felt magical to finally have it. 

[chrissturnsfav]

𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝑒 (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝑒) | 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘰𝘣 𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪

you are a young hair dresser fresh out of hair school working on set for euphoria. you and jacob meet when you are scheduled to be his hair stylist for his role of nate jacobs. who knew the two of you would end up falling for each other?

ᰔᩚ requested from @anonymous: first off hi i love your blog and your jason fic so much!! i have a request, can you maybe make a fic about reader working on set with jacob as maybe the hair/ makeup person or any other crew member and eventually after talking with him a lot they both start to fall for each other

ᰔᩚ really no warnings except use of y/n

ᰔᩚ w.c. 1,352

ᰔᩚ not proofread!

it's about 8 am and currently, you are in the beauty room along with the many other hair dressers. as you fiddle with your hair products that are very neatly organized in a cart, you wait for the cast of euphoria to arrive.

today was the first day of filming the show, and you couldn't be more excited. you had finished hair school just a few months ago, and when augustine frizzell reached out to you after seeing your ad, your heart swelled with joy.

you knew this show was going to be big, and you were hoping to get paid countless amounts of money along with meeting some new friends.

when the door to the room opens, you look up to see sydney sweeney along with zendaya and maude apatow. you greet them with a genuine smile, "good morning," you say, full of excitement.

sydney, zendaya, and maude return your smile before approaching you.

"morning! i'm sydney, so nice to meet you!" sydney sweetly says, extending her hand to you. you shake it joyfully, returning the introduction before introducing yourself to the other two girls.

shortly after meeting the 3 of them, the rest of the cast arrives and you meet everyone with a pleasure. however, there was one person missing as the hair dressers begin their work on the various stars in the room.

you stand at your chair awkwardly, realizing that the client that hadn't shown up was yours--jacob elordi, he was playing nate jacobs.

alexa demie--who was sat in the chair next to yours--turns her head to look at you. "jacob isn't here yet?" she asks, confusion in her voice.

you turn to face her with an awkward smile and shrug, "nope, i guess he's running a little late."

alexa groans, rolling her eyes and pulling out her phone, "let me text him." you nod, thanking her.

but as she begin her text, the door opens once more and in walks jacob. he looks flustered and he looks up at you with sorry eyes.

before you can even introduce yourself to him, you are forced to take in the handsome sight of him. he's dressed in a black long sleeve shirt that accentuates his build. he's paired the shirt with baggy blue jeans and a pair of adidas sambas. it's something simple, but you were mesmerized.

you don't even notice him walking towards you until you hear him speak, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"y/n, right?"

you gasp slightly, looking up at him and nodding with an embarrassed smile, "yep, jacob?"

jacob gives you an apologetic smile before nodding, "yes, i'm so so sorry i'm so late, my stupid alarm never went off, i'm so sor--"

you cut him off, shaking your head, "no, don't apologize, it happens to everyone," you say, smiling up at him understandingly. "you can have a seat," you gesture to the chair behind you.

jacob returns your smile, nodding and sitting down in the chair. you look at him through the mirror, picturing nate jacobs' hairstyle in your head.

"so...how long have you been in the industry?" jacob asks as you pull out some hair gel from your cart next to you.

"well...this is my first job...actually," you say slightly awkwardly.

jacob's eyes widen, "is it?"

you nod, beginning to rake the gel gently through his waves. "yep, i just finished hair school about three months ago. i posted an ad and augustine reached out, so here i am."

jacob smiles warmly, "that's awesome. i'm pleased to be working with you, you seem like you know what you're doing," jacob chuckles, gesturing to the insanely organized and neat hair cart beside you.

you glance at the hair cart, giggling before turning your attention back to his hair. "i like to think that i do. are you excited to be playing this role?"

jacob grins before opening his mouth to speak, "absolutely. this character is basically exactly what i've been wanting to play since the beginning of my career."

you widen your eyes slightly, "really? but you seem like such a nice person, you really want to play someone as awful as nate jacobs?"

jacob chuckles, "i don't know...i've always taken such an interest in villains in movies and shows ever since i was a kid."

you shrug, grabbing your blowdryer along with a round brush, "hm, that's interesting. never saw you to be the type to want to be someone like that."

jacob nods, watching you plug in the blowdryer, "yeah, my sister says the same thing," he chuckles. "but i'm very excited for this, i think it's gonna be a big one."

you nod in agreement, gathering a section of his hair in the round brush, "i agree."

you finish jacob's look, just the typical, douchey, swoopy fuckboy in high school type look. you look at him in the mirror with a smile, "what do you think?"

jacob returns your smile, turning his head from side to side, "very nate jacobs-y," he jokes.

you chuckle, nodding, "well i guess i did my job then."

jacob nods, standing up out if the chair and turning around to face you. he looks down at you with a smirk and nods, "sure did."

you feel your face heat up as he towers over you, responding with a simple, "thank you."

throughout the day, you talked amongst your fellow hair stylists along with the cast as you did their hair and sat together during lunch.

but it was clear that you had talked to jacob the most. you talked the most throughout lunch, throughout breaks, as you touched up his hair between scenes, etc.

now it was the end of the day. as you pack up your stuff in various bags, you notice jacob standing beside you.

"i want you to give my your number," he says and you feel your heart skip a beat as you look away from your bag and up at him.

he's holding out his phone to you with a smirk. you chuckle at his smirk and nod, taking his phone and quickly typing your number in and you change your name to y/n y/l/n. you hand it back to him, smiling warmly, "there ya go."

he returns your smile, looking down at his phone with a smirk before looking back up at you. "thanks. i'll text you later, yeah? i enjoyed talking to you today."

you immediately feel your heart warming up, along with your cheeks and you can't help but giggle out of excitement. you nod, "sure. i did too."

jacob smiles, nodding at you before turning around, waving with two fingers and a smirk as he leaves the beauty room, "see ya," he calls out.

"see ya," you say back. you can't seem to wipe the smile off your face as you continue packing your bags.

after getting home to your apartment and settling in for bed with a shower and a book, you feel your phone ding and you gasp slightly. your face lights up when you see a message from a random number--knowing it was jacob.

random number

hey, it's jacob

you can't help but smile at his text as you respond back to him.

y/n y/l/n

hey what's up

read, 10:12 pm

you and jacob end up texting for hours, just chatting about random things and getting to know each other. you don't realize how much time has passed when you look at the time and slightly gasp.

y/n y/l/n

holy shit its already 2 am

jacob elordi

wtf i didn't even notice🙃

y/n y/l/n

same

y/n y/l/n

we should prob go to sleep gotta get up early tmr to film

jacob elordi

yeah ur right

jacob elordi

well i really love talking to you y/n

jacob elordi

i'll see ya tmr?

y/n y/l/n

aw i love talking to you too

y/n y/l/n

yes i'll see you tmr

jacob elordi

goodnight sleep good😇

y/n y/l/n

sleep good jacob😌😌

but you couldn't sleep, you just couldn't fight the excitement and joy in your body.

what was going to come of this blossoming friendship with jacob?

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: this jacob fic is also going to have a part 2 guys don't worry! i love this little scenario i think it's so cute can't wait to write the rest of it but i hope you guys loved this! also send me a request if you have any ideas for this fic bc i am not the best at creating scenarios LMAO.

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

A controversial thought just occurred to me that I've tried to put into words many times now about my hero (Janis Joplin) and other musicians and people who died "tragically" (especially in a "self-inflicted" way), and that is: every time I see someone online, on Youtube or Facebook or wherever, say something (always unprompted/unrelated to what the video/photo/article/etc. is about) along the lines of, "What a waste of their talent/skill their death was," I think, What a waste their death was? What have you said of their life? Why do you only choose to comment on, and apparently highlight, their death? Did their life, and their accomplishments, and what they brought to the world while they were alive mean nothing to you? Have you not a SHRED of gratitude that they were alive at all?

I am quite sure that there is some sort of psychological explanation (and I say that with the confidence of only having a basic understanding of psychology) for why people focus particularly on people's (in this case, celebrities') "tragic" deaths, but is it not a tragedy in itself to reduce those people's lives to their deaths and the fact that they're dead? Why not appreciate what they were able to share with us while they were here? You know?

[opens-up-4-nobody]

Listen. Probably my favorite thing about The Terror is that because the story is one planned out season, the arcs and parallel scenes are set up so cleanly and nicely that it echos.

[bagofshinyrocks]

Government name vs Military callsign

Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

John Price

Government name.

Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.

“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”

Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.

“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”

“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”

He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.

“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”

When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.

Simon Riley

Military callsign.

When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.

“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”

“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 

Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.

“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.

“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”

Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 

A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.

Kyle Garrick

Government name.

He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.

“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”

Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.

If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?

“Kyle Ga-”

“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”

You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”

“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”

He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 

“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.

John MacTavish

Military callsign.

He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.

Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.

“SOAP!”

Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.

“JOHNNY!”

“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.

“C’mere, c’mere.”

He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”

You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”

He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”

“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”

“You called me Soap.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”

Posted: 2023 Dec 10

[chuluoyi]

✎ throughout heaven and earth

- gojo satoru x reader

a sudden mission. a curse beyond your grade. all hell breaks loose when gojo realizes that there are hidden machinations behind the incident that befalls you

genre: feral!gojo, injured!reader, hurt/comfort, exponential fluff !

note: we need a gojo who will go ballistic against the higher-ups for dragging you in their mess :) refer to this for the reader's CT, and this loosely takes place after the events in heaven's fury, and the epilogue is based on this very brilliant idea :))

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Something isn’t right.

You should’ve known it was strange when they assigned you with a sudden mission with little to no briefing. You should’ve gone through with your gut feeling and informed Satoru about it.

Because if you did... now you wouldn’t be running for your life like this, frantically dodging the hacks and slashes of this chainsaw-like cursed spirit that was evidently not a Grade 2 as what you were told.

“Ah!” you yelped as the sharp ends of its body struck your shoulder, leaving you bleeding openly. This was no small wound—it was deep enough to make you stagger.

You had to do something about this because merely avoiding wouldn’t save your life. You had to come back in one piece. You have to— for your baby and Satoru.

What if I can’t? The sheer thought made you tremble. Your baby boy was still so little and he needed you more than anyone, and Satoru...

God, you couldn’t bear to leave him alone. Not again. He couldn't handle losing someone again, not after all he had already lost.

You gripped your whip—your cursed weapon—tightly amidst your bleeding hand. You had barely enough cursed energy for a domain expansion that guaranteed a sure-hit effect. You have one shot. This was all or nothing.

But you weren’t sure if it would work, because you were on the verge of exhaustion, and this was a special grade curse. Your domain expansion was definitely not as refined as the Satoru’s, and this monster was an enemy of his class.

“Satoru...” your voice came out in a sob. You were terribly scared, and honestly you were entitled to. You weren’t even sure you would survive this at all, and all you could think now was your husband’s silly grin and how much you loved him.

And right afterwards, you saw the cursed spirit lunging at you, and with everything left that you had, you screamed—

“Domain Expansion: Transcendent Veil!”

“Gojo-sensei, p-please come back... Nee-san is...!”

Satoru was in Kyoto when he received that call from Megumi— and that moment shattered his world as he knew it.

“Megumi, what is it?”

“She w-was sent on a mission... but then it's a special grade— a-and... she... she e-exorcised it b-but—!”

He teleported without second thought to Tokyo. His mind was blank, the only sound he could hear was his own violent heartbeats, and his fists were clenched so tightly.

“The cursed spirit got her too… It made a cut on her neck.”

His most precious wife... the one person he must protect at all cost, was now possibly—

“Megumi.” He saw him sitting on the hallway of the headquarters’ hospital the with his son on his lap—you had asked him to look after your baby—and the boy looked up to him.

“Gojo-sensei...” Megumi appeared shaken, and seeing that, Satoru immediately took his child from his hands, pulling the little kid into his embrace.

“Go back home, I’ll stay here.”

In all his life, Megumi had never seen Gojo Satoru as calm as he was now. He looked fearsome, as if he was in the battlefield.

“Ichiji.” Satoru turned to the other man rigidly standing next to Megumi, causing him to stiffen up even more. He didn’t say anything further as he pat his little son’s back, and yet Ichiji knew all the same what he wanted from him.

“It’s from… the higher ups, Gojo-san.” Ichiji gulped as he said it. “Y/N-san was suddenly called in yesterday night, and she was told it was an urgent mission.”

“Who called her?”

“It was…”

When Ichiji told him the name, suddenly Satoru barked a snort, and his lips curled into a manic grin. It was a menacing sight for both Ichiji and Megumi, as he looked almost unhinged if not for his secure grip on his son.

But contrary to what they were thinking, what filled Satoru at that moment was pure, unadulterated fury. A righteous sense of being crossed—because, how fucking dare they?

Those higher ups first pressed him to execute Yuji, and when he paid them no mind… now they staged this atrocity against you, most definitely to serve as a warning to him.

“Ichiji, tell them that I’ll pay a visit tomorrow. And drive Megumi home tonight.”

He would make his point loud and clear. He would show them how wrong it was to ever test him. But…

The plan barely satisfied him. They hurt you. His heart finally lurched as he processed the fact… when he heard his baby’s soft whimper against his shoulder.

. . .

You sustained serious injuries, but finally, you were out of critical condition.

When Satoru was allowed to see you, you were still connected to many monitors and breathing machine. He brought your baby too inside, and upon clearly seeing both of them, suddenly your eyes welled up with tears.

“Hey…” his hand gripped yours reassuringly. You sniffled when the strain of your broken ribs made you almost cry out in pain, and Satoru immediately calmed you down.

“Sweets— hey, don’t cry, yeah? You did good.” He pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. “You did freaking good. You’re okay now. You’re going to recover, yeah?”

You gave him a tearful little nod, feeling so grateful that you could see him again. And unbeknownst to you, seeing you like this broke his heart too.

“Mwa...” your baby, cradled in your husband’s arms, suddenly stretched his tiny hands towards you, and Satoru handed him over for you to hold.

With the little strength you possessed, you reached out to stroke his soft cheeks. Your son... the thought of how close you came to death brought another tear rolling down your cheek.

All sort of thoughts went through Satoru’s head at the sight. His wife, the mother of his son, who is proud of him for everything he does—

—and their sorry asses dared to hurt you.

Suddenly all he saw was red.

And he swore he would make it right to you. Soon.

“Ah, Satoru-kun… to what I owe the pleasure?”

“…I’ve heard that it was you who assigned that special grade mission to my wife, correct?”

“Oh, that. First of all, I must apologize for my... oversight. We were misinformed... Our scouts made a mistake while filling the files.”

Satoru was trying not to lose his composure first thing after coming here. Really.

But the knowing tone of the elderly Jujutsu Commander only fueled his rage, growing stronger the longer he stood behind this stupid paper divider.

“So it’s a mistake, huh?” he repeated in a satire manner. “Then do you know that my wife has just gotten out of her maternity leave this week?”

The man behind the divider chuckled quietly. “Satoru-kun… I know the sentiment. Of course you’ll be worried, and it did end in a rather… unfortunate incident. However, jujutsu sorcerers are bound to their duty, and your wife cannot rely too heavily on her status as a member of the Gojo clan to be excluded from—”

Fuck it. He had no patience any longer.

“Seems like I need to be a lot rougher, after all.”

Suddenly the room crackled with electricity and the Jujutsu Commander gasped at the sense of foreboding he felt. “Gojo, you can’t—!”

“Heh, but I can.” He let out the most satisfied laugh before opening his palm and chanting in a lower voice: “Cursed Technique Lapse: Blue.”

In a matter of seconds, the audience chamber of jujutsu headquarters turned into a pile of destruction. The commander barely made it out the deadly vacuum vortex with a shriek.

“Ah! N-no! Get a-away from me!” Satoru stared down at him coldly through his unobstructed heavenly eyes, as he pitifully tried to crawl away. He took one step towards him, stomped on his hand ruthlessly—causing the man to scream, before he got down to his level.

“N-no! Please, s-spare me...!”

“This is my first and last warning to you.” It was beyond terrifying, to see those six eyes in this close proximity. But even more dreadful was the tight chokehold on his throat—

“If you ever try to pull this idiotic stunt again on my wife, know that I can and I will snap your neck.” Satoru’s face split into a sinister grin as he tapped the man’s nape, before he crushed the bones of his hand with a crack and made him howl. “Remember that, yeah?”

. . . that day, none in jujutsu headquarters dared to spread any word about Gojo Satoru’s outrageous conduct, even when it was an attack against their own highest ranking leader.

“Satoru, you don’t have to, really—”

“Nuh, uh! I’ve promised you I’ll nurse you back to health!”

Unaware of anything and everything, you thought that your loving husband was a silly jester trying to make you feel better. On the fifth day of your stay in hospital, you were well enough to eat solid food, and Satoru insisted on spoon feeding you the fruits he cut himself.

“Good girl,” he praised with a wholly playful smile as you chewed on the watermelon. You looked at him with a mock frown, pursing your lips.

“You’re making me look like a kid.”

“You are, in fact, my second kid, so I have all rights to baby you.”

You let out a giggle, but then suddenly your throat felt like it was closing in and you coughed. Instinctively, you reached for your neck— your fingers tracing the scar there.

You still could remember the sense of paralyzing fear you felt as soon as your neck was cut. The heavy bleeding that followed, the way the world blacking out around you…

“Sweets…?” Satoru put down the plate and got a grip on your trembling figure. He gently pushed your chin up to meet his eyes. “Hey, look at me. Look at me, hmm?”

Your frantic eyes locked onto his, and your rapid breathing steadied. Your clammy hand reached out to touch his face... before you lunged forward, throwing your arms around him.

“Sweetheart…” Satoru hugged you back in return, sighing against the nape on your neck, as he planted a soft kiss there.

You tried your best not to cry but it was hard not to while remembering everything.

“I-I was so scared…”

“Mhm.”

“I-I kept thinking… w-what if I c-can’t see you… or baby again…? I… I s-still want to do a lot of… things… w-with you…”

The way you shook in his arms like a fragile leaf made something inside him burn. He was supposed to provide you with security, give you a life far removed from curses—

Having left that warning against the higher-ups wasn’t enough, he should’ve made him beg for his life more—

“Listen to me,” Satoru said as he broke the hug, the deep frown in his grave expression made you almost sob. He gently wiped your overflowing tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“Stop thinking that. You’re alright. You’re going to get better. You and me—we are going to raise our son together.”

You took in each of his words fully, even as your lips quivered.

“And mark my words…” Right in this moment, you thought that your husband was most dashing as he gave you his promises—as his blue eyes glimmered under the light. “They won’t ever lay their hands on you ever again. Not while I’m here. Not ever. I already made sure of that.”

You were curious about what he did, but you chose not to press further when Satoru leaned in suddenly and brushed his lips against yours in a soft kiss, melting your heart into mush.

When he pulled away, it was his usual teasing grin on his handsome face. “Now, I only have one duty left— that is to get my cute wife back on her feet. So, be a good little wifey and have lots of fruits and sleep, okay?”

You giggled freely this time, feeling tremendously safe and loved, and instead of answering, you chose to peck his lips instead— hoping that he’d know that you trusted him with your whole life.

. . .

“By the way… Satoru, where’s our baby?” you missed your pumpkin, and while being with your funny husband lifted your spirits, you wanted to cuddle him too.

He chuckled in response. “Ah! Since Megumi is on an assignment, I left him with Ichiji earlier! Don’t worry, I’ll come pick him up soon, ‘kay?”

Epilogue

“I’m going out for a bit, and if you ever make him upset or cry… I can and I will sense it! So Ichiji—do your best!”

“Bwa…”

“Eeek!”

Ichiji stared at Baby Gojo with literal sweat on his forehead, as the little being curiously looked up at him.

By all means, this baby was adorable. Even more so when his father dressed him in a shark onesie. It was a peculiar choice—just like any of Gojo’s choices were—but it sure made the baby look even more endearing.

But the thing is… he didn’t feel secure enough to hold him! Especially when he didn’t know if Gojo’s claim of telepathic connection with his son was true or not!

Amidst his thoughts, suddenly Ichiji felt a soft touch on his arm and immediately turned to find the little munchkin putting his little hand on him and staring at him with such pureness unbefitting of Gojo Satoru’s son.

How can this baby be a stark contrast to his father? Ichiji was almost tempted to snuggle him, but he knew better.

“O-oh… d-don’t touch me…”

And as he retracted his hand back, the baby suddenly widened his eyes, feeling betrayed apparently, as his little lips wobbled and face scrunched up, so ready to burst into tears—

“Hic…”

“—!! Nooo! Don’t cry! Your father will fry me! Eeek!!”

[the-melancholic-human]

I am still pissed off that i wrote something super cute about single mom reader and simon, and tumblr didn’t save it in my drafts

But more on the topic of nobleman simon riley with the young cute wife he got himself from the village to calm me down:

Simon never thought of himself as someone who would enjoy the little moments of life, when he looked at a sunset he would simply see that, a sunset, nothing more, but his wife, no no no she’s the polar opposite

When she picks fresh tomatoes from their garden and drops them into her skirt, she’s laughing out loud, her cheeks rosy pink from the summer heat and the pure joy that seems to run in her veins. She holds up the tomatoes to simon, yelling out his name to get his attention, and simon is just sitting on a chair reading a book trying to not think about all the dirt under his wife’s nails and how damp the garden walls smell during the humid summers, but his wife, oh no she’s running around grabbing tomatoes from the bushes, while she hums a melody quietly

“Mr riley!! Look at this one! It’s so red!”

“ ‘s jus’ a tomato, woman, please keep y’voice down”

And when her skirt is full of tomatoes she runs back to simon, dropping all of the red bulbs of freshness right onto his cleaned and steamed pants

“I got you all of these! Aren’t you happy??”

“ y’skirt is absolutely filthy, ‘s it so hard to jus’ act a bit more timid?”

She shakes her head, laughing at his comment, as she grabs one of the tomatoes from simon’s lap and rubs off the dirt on her dress, and takes a bite

“I think you should losen up a bit you know? Take that stick out of where the sun don’t shine”

She laughs at her own joke, simon on the other hand scrunches up his nose at the rude string of words that his so called wife just spat out at him

But you know

Even though he gets angry at his wife for rolling around in mud all day, for jumping up and down on the bed, for scaring the maid ten times a day, for chasing around the ducks and chickens, for swearing every time she drops something

He can’t help how his heart skips a beat when he hears her scream and laugh and shout and swear. And here’s the thing, simon is starting to like the chaos she seems to bring to everything

And before he knows it, he’s standing up from his chair in the garden, holding the girl’s soft hand, as he lets her walk him to the tomato bushes. And he actually kneels in the mud, cautiously grabbing a red tomato and lightly tugging on it, looking at his wife for reassurance,

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

And when she runs her fingers through his hair with those dirty hands, like she’s petting a lost puppy, simon absolutely loses it

And he laughs! Like an idiot who’s in love! He hates himself for it. But, you know, he can keep the anger for another time, right now he’ll just sit there and let his wife tug at his blonde hair while the warm sun shines down on his pale and freckled face. And he breaths, for what feels like the first time in years.

The maid runs out, holding her dress in her fists as she scolds simon

“Sir! Please for the love of god get up! I’ve just washed your clothes!”

“Y’know… i think ‘m good here, and i think… y’need to take tha’ stick out of where the sun don’ shine”

God he looks up at you with a proud look, like he’s done something so bad and he needs your approval for it, and when you nod your head with a smile he just melts.

Just saying, the poor maid does not like your behavior one bit, especially now that it’s rubbing off on simon.