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hearts-4-luke · 3 months

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setting the scene

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: just as everything is going wrong, and you feel like the universe has something against you, you meet a certain someone who changes your point of view

warnings: harrassment, a little bit of cursing, shitty writing

word count: 2.3k

i hope you enjoy this, my first piece of writing.

of course you were familiar with the idea of karma.

in theory, you always thought it was a great way of thinking. if you put good into the world, you'd get something back.

so you always tried your hardest to make other people happy, give them the benefit of the doubt, not only in hopes that you'd be rewarded, but also because you truly wanted the best for others.

but over time, you lost faith in the idea, as it seemed that no matter how well you treated other people, how much good you put out into the world, nothing ever came back to you, at least not for long.

the night had started out great, you'd already downed a few drinks, and you and your friends were having the time of your lives dancing to "today's top hits."

but of course with your luck, something had to go wrong.

some girl who'd obviously had more drinks than she could handle, decided it would be a good idea to walk through the dance floor with multiple full glasses in hand. it goes without saying that she ended up spilling the contents of her cups, straight down your dress, the cold liquid freezing against your hot skin.

only when you went to wash the stain out did you remember that you were wearing a tight white dress, which, in your current situation, was practically see through.

logic told you it would've been a good idea for you to leave at that point, but instead, you opted that you didn't want to ruin your friend's nights, so you decided to stay for just a bit longer.

eventually, your dress dried, and the stain was just barely visible, for which you were extremely grateful.

spotting the nearly empty glasses in all of your friends' hands, you decided to be nice and go grab another round of drinks. this was your second mistake.

the intoxicated people dancing all around you made you uncomfortable, and by the time you had told the bartender what you wanted, you were jittery and uneasy. within seconds, a man who had to be at least ten years older than you took a seat on the stool closest to you, despite the fact that nearly all of the others were vacant.

you shot him a polite smile before opening up your phone and scrolling through instagram, but you were all too aware of the fact that his gaze was burning a hole through the side of your head.

again, logic pleaded with you to just leave right then and there, you knew your friends would understand, but being the people-pleaser you were, you still persisted on staying and waiting for your drinks.

"you here all alone, eh?" his words had your heart beating hard in your chest.

damn you, universe, you thought. why couldn't you just let me have one good night?

"no, i'm here with my friends," you replied nervously before adding quickly, "and my boyfriend." it was obvious you were lying, but you were grasping for straws just to get him to stop talking to you.

"it's alright, no need to lie to me." though his words themselves weren't especially threatening, the look on his face and the way he spoke made you on edge. he continued to stare at you, awaiting a response. he placed a hand on your thigh.

you'd had enough, so you slipped off your chair and began to walk away, when you felt a hand on your wrist.

"what's wrong, baby? i didn't even do anything," he asked, an irritated look on his face.

you tried again to take your hand out of his clutches, but to no avail. you told him to let go, to stop, but he didn't care, simply tightening his grasp on your arm and insisting that you stay and "wait for your drinks."

praying to whatever higher being that the bartender would come back soon and see the unfortunate situation you were in, you looked around desperately, only to find that no one was paying attention to what was going on.

what did i do to you to deserve this? you bargained with the universe, who left your question seemingly unanswered, silence left in its wake.

a second later, you jolted at the feeling of large hands grabbing onto your shoulders from behind you, and felt someone's head rest atop yours. you turned around in fear, and found yourself eyeing a boy who had to be around your age with curly hair and green eyes, peering right back down at you.

you expected him to leave once he saw your face and realized he didn't know who you were, but instead he continued to look at you, smiling sincerely. the man from before immediately dropped your wrist.

"hey angel," the boy beamed down at you.

"hi…babe?" you responded hesitantly, leaning into him once you realized this was no mistake, the curly haired boy was helping you out.

his arms found their way around your shoulders, hugging you from behind.

"is this guy bothering you or something?" he asked, picking up your bruising wrist delicately, and turning his attention to the older guy who seemed feeble compared to your saviour.

"no, no bro, i didn't do anything. i swear, i'm sorry," the man stumbled over his words, his demanding and harsh demenaor having faded away in a heartbeat.

"y'sure you're okay then?" he asked, redirecting his attention to you. you nodded in response, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

"alright, i'll walk you back to the table, then," he nodded to himself before turning back to the man one last time, "and stop hitting on girls half your age, man. it's fucked up."

he led you away, hands intertwined, as the man scrambled out of his seat and away to another part of the bar. neither of you said anything for a few seconds until you interrupted the silence.

"thank you so much. i don't know how to repay you, that guy was really…" you trailed off, a shiver passing through your body just at the thought of his disgusting hands on your wrist.

he nodded in agreement. "of course, i couldn't just leave you there like that."

"can i get you something to drink, a beer, anything, to thank you," you pleaded, looking up at him as the two of you stopped walking, opting to stand near the bar in an area that wasn't too crowded. you saw the hesitant look on your face and continued your thought, "oh, unless you have a girlfriend or something, sorry, god, i should've asked before i said anything."

the boy grinned at your flushed face, "well, first off, my name's luke, and no, i don't have a girlfriend."

"oh ok, that's good," you said before realizing what you had said, "i meant to say that's good to know, not that it's good that you don't have a girlfriend. fuck, i didn't-"

"it's okay, i got what you meant," he chuckled. you put your face in your hands out of embarrassment, your face now bright red. once you had calmed down, you introduced yourself to luke, and offered once again to buy him something to drink.

luke knew he should be keeping this to himself, but you seemed like you wouldn't judge him or at the very least he felt like you wouldn't tell anyone else, so the next words that came out of his mouth were, "i'm only twenty. i can't drink. the bouncer knew my brother and he let me in, but my brother doesn't want me drinking."

now it was his turn to be embarrassed, as he suddenly felt out of place, as though you were silently making fun of him, even though he knew you weren't.

"oh, that's fine! i only just recently turned twenty-one anyway, so i get it," you shrugged, obviously trying to comfort him since his neck and the tips of his ears were pink.

all of a sudden, a guy with fluffy brown hair and blue eyes who was a few inches shorter than luke and seemed a bit tipsy came up to the two of you and slung an arm around luke's shoulders. the unfamiliar boy turned to you, having just noticed you were there, and a grin spread across his face.

"hey lukey boy, who's this, huh? you got yourself a girlfriend?" the boy chirped at the curly haired boy who rolled his eyes at his antics.

"angel, this is jack, my older brother. in case you couldn't tell, he's a little bit drunk," luke deadpanned, peeling his brother's arm off of his shoulders.

smiling at jack, you told him your name and explained how you and luke had just met a few minutes ago.

"oh, rusty's already got a nickname for you," he beamed, turning to look at his younger brother, who yet again rolled his eyes but the smile on his face showed that he wasn't really all that annoyed.

"anyway, lukey, d'you wanna come introduce your new girl to the team?" jack questioned, already beginning to walk back in the direction he came.

"she's not my girl, rowdy."

"and with that attitude she never will be!"

you let out a laugh and luke turned to you, asking if you wanted to go meet his team. you nodded in agreement, and sent a text to your friends apologizing that you didn't get the drinks yet and that you met a nice guy but you'd be back sometime soon, and if anything, that you could uber home.

luke grabbed your hand, intertwining it with his, and began to pull you in the direction that his brother had gone. before you reached your destinanton, he explained that he and his brother played hockey and he was at the bar with some of his teammates and friends.

quickly, you approached a circular booth filled with five guys and a girl, all of whom began to shout things, most of them teasing luke about "finally bagging a girl."

you slid into the booth, and you could swear you felt a spark when luke sat down next to you, your thighs touching.

from across the table, jack recited the names of everyone at the table: jesper, nico, dawson, and john, and followed up by introducing you to the table.

the girl who you had ended up sitting next to interrupted jack before he could continue his drunken rambling.

"well i, for one, am glad that there's gonna be another girl around here. and rusty seemed lonely anyway." for a second, you felt jealousy flicker in your chest, thinking she was a friend of luke's, before she continued her thought, turning so that she could speak to you directly.

"i'm emily, by the way, i'm jack's girlfriend, it's nice to meet you."

"nice to meet you too," you grinned, all feelings of jealousy dissipating. you got to know her for a bit as luke started talking with dawson.

eventually, you and luke fell back into conversation together, and your personalities seemed to just click. everytime you said something, he would have a quick remark to add, and whenever he spoke, you found yourself hanging onto every last word he said, sincerely interested in what he was talking about.

luke wasn't sure why, but for some reason, whether it was just that your presence was so comforting, or that he was in desperate need for some new friends in jersey, but he felt an overwhelming desire to spill all of his secrets to you.

you learned that he played for the new jersey devils in the nhl, and although hockey had never really been something you were interested, you made a mental note to look up when the next game was so that you could try to catch some of it on tv.

as odd as it may have sounded, it made luke happy that you didn't know who he was before he introduced himself. it assured him that you had a genuine interest in him, and didn't care that he played in the nhl, or that he and his brothers were some of the most famous hockey players of his generation.

by the end of the night, it felt like the two of you had known each other for ages, the disturbing man from earlier long forgotten.

as the two of you exchanged numbers, you were glad you didn't go home earlier, that you had gone against logic's advice.

you bid the rest of the team goodbye, not being able to escape the comments from jack, announcing how cute he thought the two of you looked together.

you and luke were forced to part, both of you sporting matching smiles on your faces, and promised to text each other and meet up sometime the following week.

you found yourself unable to wipe the grin off of your face as you walked back to where your friends were still sitting, who all giggled at the sight of you all love-drunk and unusually cheerful. while you recounted your story about how you met luke, all your friends could see that you were practically glowing and seemed happier than ever.

they all took a quick liking to the boy who had made you this happy, even without meeting him.

maybe the universe wasn't plotting against you. maybe everything that had happened was planned out, setting the scene for you to be able to meet the wonderful, bright-eyed, curly haired boy that you had. you just hoped it lasted.

i feel like i wrote this really bad, but i just want to publish it and stop staring blankly at my writing, but if you read all the way to the end, hopefully you liked it!

part 2 coming soon, maybe? 💛🌼☀

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #lukey pookie #njd #nj devils #new jersey devils #hockey boys #hockey #nhl fic #luke hughes fic #lh43 #nhl #nhl x reader #el's writing!

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moni-logues · 11 months

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Practice

Pairing: Namjoon x f. reader

Genre: pwp, smut, established relationship

Summary: Namjoon has a baby niece and it gives you both baby-making thots. Time to get some practice in.

Word count: 2k

Content: unprotected sex (but reader is on birth control); oral sex (f. receiving), lil bit of biting

A/N: I think this was a request? Pretty sure because I don't tend to have baby-making thoughts lmaooo not even for Joon 😂 this has been moderately edited but please forgive any typos lmao I've been belting out ballads as I've been writing whoops

You stared, transfixed, at the tiny, precious bundle in your arms as she yawned widely and shut her eyes. You lowered your head to give hers a big sniff. Who knew what that smell really was? A scent that all brand-new babies shared and no one had yet bottled. Intoxicating.

“God, smell her, Joonie. Isn’t it the best?”

Namjoon did as you instructed and grinned.

“Yeah, it’s pretty good.”

You gently leant back and Joon scooted closer, resting his chin on your shoulder, both staring down at the tiny human in your arms. She was brand new – brand new! not even a week old! – and utterly perfect: enormous dark eyes framed by the thickest, darkest lashes you’d ever seen; podgy little thighs and miniscule fingers curled into the softest little fist. It almost brought you to tears. You couldn’t believe how perfect she was.

You had hoped that his sister bringing new life into the world would have distracted his family from asking you and Joon when you would get your act together and marry… In a way, it had: they just started asking when you would be having kids. His sister and her husband hadn’t been together that much longer than the two of you had, but had somehow made it down the aisle and into the maternity ward already. You and Joon had talked about having kids ‘sometime’, ‘in the future’, ‘when we’re ready’. You had to admit this was accelerating those timelines. You couldn’t help but think about what your baby might look like, what Joon would be like as a dad, what you’d be like as a mum. Your heart clenched at the thought.

“I can’t believe I’m an uncle,” Joon says as you enter your apartment later that evening, kicking off his boots and shedding his puffer coat. “I don’t feel old enough! I’m not grown-up enough to have a niece!”

“Get used to it, old man! This is just the start!” You laughed as you took off your scarf, gloves and hat. “Wasn’t she perfect?”

Namjoon wrapped you in his arms and kissed you lightly. You shivered, maybe from the change in temperature from the cold outside. Maybe.

“She was pretty perfect, but I reckon our babies will be better.”

He kissed you again.

“Oh, our babies, eh? Tell me about them.”

“I think we’ll have three,” he began as he kissed your neck. “Two boys and a girl, boy first. Close together in age so they can be close. Obviously, they’ll have your eyes-”

“And your brain.”

“And your heart.”

He tightened his grip on you and kissed you deeper.

“And when are we expecting these kids to come along?”

He pretended to think about it for a moment.

“Well, the first one probably in about nine months’ time, what do you say?”

He grinned at you and you laughed.

“Wow, one niece and that’s all it takes? Have you thought this through?”

“Ah, we can practise, can’t we? It does make perfect, after all.”

“You’ve got a point.”

Namjoon swiped an arm over the sideboard, shifting keys and bags and wallets onto the floor, and then he lifted you onto it, kissing your shoulder and your neck and your jaw. You hadn’t expected such a reaction from him, hadn’t thought that he’d be the one needy and desperate after an hour in a baby’s company, but you weren’t complaining. Far from.

You grabbed his hair to pull his face to yours and you kissed him hard, taking his bottom lip in your teeth. His hands found their way under your jacket, under your jumper, and he ran a thumb over your nipple, cupping your breast as his tongue tangled with yours. You were quick to pull Namjoon’s hoodie off and quicker to be frustrated by layer after layer of warm clothes. You were burning up all over, the cold outside a long-forgotten memory now. All you could feel was the heat, on your skin, in your core, between your body and his. You were simmering, the flame growing taller, licking across your hips, down your thighs.

Namjoon shiver, finally naked from the waist up, and you kissed the goosebumps rising all over his flesh.

“Maybe we should go to the bedroom,” he laughed.

“What? You mean you don’t want to have sex right by our front door? I mean, I guess we can go to the bedroom, if you really want, if-”

He silenced you with a kiss and picked you up. You kissed his face all over and bit down on the soft flesh of his earlobe as he carried you to the bedroom. When he let you down, you discarded your remaining close with as much haste as you could muster. The sight of his naked body would never get old for you: his strong, thick thighs; perfectly defined V-line; the little happy trail of hair leading to his belly button; his soft, smooth skin; his stiff cock, hot in your hand as you wrapped your fingers around it and pumped.

He grabbed you by the back of the neck and brought your face close to his.

“You know they say you’re more likely to conceive if you have at least one orgasm,” he whispered to you. You chuckled.

“I don’t think we’ll have any problems there, will we?”

Namjoon pushed you onto the bed and leant down from above you. The dark lust in his eyes lightened for a second as he looked at you and he kissed you gently on the lips.

“I love you, really; I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You kissed him once and then again and then again, each a little less soft than the one before. Because you loved him, because he loved you, because you were so sickly sweet, gooey and soft for each other, but you were also needy now, thirsty, hungry for him. Love was all well and good but you wanted to be fucked.

“Now are you going to make me come or what?”

He laughed and playfully tapped your cheek before offering you a cheeky salute.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He kissed your collar bone as his fingers found your clit. He kissed your breasts as his fingers slipped and curled inside you and his thumb rubbed your swollen bud. His kisses trailed down your stomach and his tongue replaced his thumb against you; he sucked hard as his fingers thrummed and you let yourself go to him, melted into the mattress, limbs heavy and hot.

“Fuck,” you breathed, moaning as his tongue flicked back and across. It surprised you still, every time, how quickly he could turn you to jelly, how easily he could get you off. He knew your every move, every gesture, every twitch, every flush of your skin, every different, little noise you let slip as he worked you over. Practice, he’d said. As if he needed it.

Namjoon removed his fingers briefly and ran his tongue across your entrance. Taking one of your lips in his mouth, he bit lightly and you squirmed.

“Harder,” you panted and you could feel him grin against you. He clamped his teeth harder and his fingers returned to your clit, rubbing your arousal all over, making a mess of you. He trapped it tightly between two fingers and rolled them back and forth. He bit the soft flesh of your inner thigh and hot skin of your mound; he kissed the crease of your hips and pushed your legs open wider. All the while, you could feel the pressure build inside you, you walls spasming and clenching as you neared your climax. You gripped the bedsheets tight as you moaned, pulling hard as the waves rolled through your body.

Namjoon’s mouth was back on your clit, sucking and licking; his fingers back inside you, hooking and curling against you. He held you down as you bucked beneath him, crying out as pleasure overwhelmed you. He didn’t stop, didn’t falter, didn’t stutter as you came all over him, gushing over his hand, clenching his fingers inside you. Unable to utter a coherent string of words, you tapped him on the head for relief. He came up for air, mouth shiny and sticky, and lay a line of sloppy kisses across your stomach and your breasts and your chest.

You pulled his face to yours and kissed him, tasting yourself all over his lips and his tongue.

“Ok,” you said, breathlessly. “Orgasm, check. Time to pretend to make a baby?”

He chuckled, the noise rumbling deep in his chest and kissed you again. He seemed in no rush, but you had never had the patience. You reached between you to take him in your hand again; his tip was slick with pre-cum and your thighs trembled in anticipation of him inside you.

“Imagine, though,” you whispered as he guided himself towards your waiting wings. “If we had a baby-”.

You gasped as he pushed himself inside you, your eyes fluttering shut, your cunt fluttering around him.

“Babe,” he said, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes looking deep into yours when you opened them. He rolled his hips. “Our baby is going to be the best baby there’s ever been.”

You nodded and let your eyes roll back, feeling every contour of him against your tight slip. A baby. Namjoon’s baby. Couldn’t be anything but the best.

“Best baby ever,” you agreed, breathless and whiny. “’Cause you’re the best.”

Namjoon nipped at your earlobe.

“No, ’cause we’re the best.”

“I love you.” The words barely audible as your breath escaped in shallow bursts. “I love you, I love you.”

He lay so close on top of you that your torsos met as he thrust harder and harder, his breath becoming laboured, his groans louder. You whined quietly in his ear and tugged at his hair; you wrapped your legs around him and the two of you moaned in unison when he hit deeper inside you. He lifted himself up on to his hands, looking down at you with half-closed eyes. He wanted to come on your tits, spray himself over your chest and mark you as his own, his and only his, but then he thought about coming inside you, making a baby – even a pretend one – and he felt all his muscles twitch. You were on birth control so it wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d ever come inside you, but it felt different this time. He felt closer to you. He felt like this meant something different. This was something you had done dozens, even hundreds of times, but it was different this time.

“Fuck,” he growled, feeling close to the edge.

He thrust faster, breathing hard, looking down at you: your messy hair, hand over your eyes, mouth agape, your smooth skin and kiss-swollen lips, the mole on your left breast, the tiny scar by your hairline. As the blood roared in his ears, he felt his heart clench, not knowing how it was possible to love one person quite this much. With a sudden shudder, he came, shooting his hot seed inside you, his muscles tight, his jaw clenched.

He fell on top of you, still inside you. You both lay still for a moment, no sound in the air but your breathing, no sound in your ears but the thumping of your heart. You felt hot inside and out, tingling with pleasure and relief.

“I love you,” he whispered, bringing your hand to his lips. With your legs still wrapped tight, you wrapped your arms around him too and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, too, Joonie.”

“That was-…”

“Yeah.”

You patted just above where your uterus rested.

“See you in nine months, mate!”

Namjoon laughed and you felt it in your own chest.

“Maybe next time, it shouldn’t be just for practice.”

He looked at you searchingly. Your heart flipped.

“You want to have a baby with me for real, Joon?”

“I want to have everything with you.”

You shuffled beneath him, bringing your faces closer.

“Ok,” you whispered, your faces so close that your lips touched his as you spoke. “I’ll make an appointment and get my IUD removed.”

Namjoon nodded.

“But does next time have to wait ’til then? ’Cause I’d really like to practise some more.”

Namjoon grinned.

“Well, it does make perfect.”

#namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #bts smut #bts fic #mmm repost

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basicallyblank · 2 months

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AWFC, what's going wrong; 23/24 season analysis.

The 23/24 season for Arsenal Women hasn't been impressive, with an opening day defeat to Liverpool, and then losing to West Ham and Tottenham for the first time ever in the league, you have to start asking how we've fallen so far from what we once were.

After going trophyless for 4 years, we finally won the League Cup last season, and managed to defeat Chelsea again in order to win it this season, but when you peel back the years, you realise that for a club like Arsenal, this does not cut it. We haven't won the league since 2019, and we haven't won the FA Cup, the trophy Arsenal have won more than any other club, since 2016.

With an injury crisis last season that left us paper thin, we were obviously going to need some quick signings to cover us just whilst our regular squad members recovered. Ilistedt, Codina, Lacasse, KCC and Alessia Russo where all summer signings.

Alessia Russo is our top scorer this season with 10 goals, and her off the ball work is superb, and I think that she'll only get better. I'm willing to give Codina some time, she's only young and she's having to adapt to another club and country's playing style, I think she has a winning mentality that could push us forward, and I think she's ben okay for us this season. I really don't think I've seen enough of KCC this seasonn, we payed 300K for her and we've barely played her. Jonas likes to play her as a defensive midfielder, where I do think she is more of an 8 (I did think she was Jordans replacement at the start of the season) So I would definitely like to see more, but I think she has a good passing ability, but I don't think she should start in big games just yet, I think she needs more time. I do not think Amanda and Cloe were good signings, yes they have done good and come through for us this season, are they Arsenal standard ? No.

We have to admit it now, we have players that are not good enough, because if we don't, we will stay the way we are. We also have to admit that even our players that are good enough, have been lacking this season when we needed them the most. I didn't rate LWM at all last season, whereas this season she's in contention for PLOTS, I think Beth has made a big impact G/A wise, she's our second top scorer, Caitlin is good for Australia, she lacks for Arsenal. Stina needs to learn the offside rule, she scores goals for us, even with limited game time this season, but I'm gonna need Arsenal to put in the money for a world class striker. Viv is complicated, I'm not speaking in terms of injury, it's difficult to really gage where she's at because she's been struggled coming back, but if she does stay, we can't keep playing her as a 10/midfielder whatever, if she wants to play there, fine, but she can do it somewhere else. We need her as the 9, we've seen what she can do when she's up front, and that's what we need from her.

We have the most big chances missed in the league (40) Our players have gone from free scoring, to not being able to even hit a barn door, we're always taking that extra touch too much, that extra second, when we never used to do that before. In the WSL this season, we've taken a total of 304 shots, we've scored 46 goals this season. Questions need to be asked of what Kelly Smith is telling the players in training, we are hesitent to shoot, our frontline still wouldn't be able to score if the opposition had no keeper in the net.

We also need to look at our corner convertion rate, we've generated 178, 1 7 8, corner kicks this season, we've scored ONE. We've scored once from a corner all season out of 178, when Amanda scored against chelsea. Goals make games, and we are struggling to get them from anywhere.

When we were knocked out of the Champions League on penalties in the qualifying stage, the fans were looking forward to all our focus being on winning the league. At the start of last season, we looked strong, we were on the longest WSL winstreak ever, this season started out unconvincing, obviously we still had injured players coming back, scheduling players didn't get a proper break, but an opening day defeat against Liverpool, winning at the last minute against Manchester United, Aston Villa and Bristol, both of who were battling for last spot for the first half of the season, isn't good enough.

Our biggest struggles come from teams who play a lowblock, Jonas does not know how to get around this, his solution is to play from the wings and ping crosses into the box, which didn't work against Liverpool, West Ham or Spurs, and these are the games that lost us contention for the league. When Joe Montemurro was the coach, we didn't win big games, we didn't win against chelsea once, now we do win the big games, but the league is decided by fine margins, if we don't win our smaller games, those big wins won't help us.

It's a struggle to look at our backline as a cohesive unit, as it's been so inconsistent, our CB pairings aren't the same 2 games in a row, like Leah and Rafa (come back please) were last season. Lotte has been fantastic, she's really stepped up, Katie had a good first half of the season, she's dropped off a bit now but is still solid, Steph has been good, Emily Fox has been great, one of our best signings this season. For the games she's had, Leah has been outstanding, the game against Man City comes to mind, Leah's passing is out of this world, getting a assist on her comeback just demonstrated how much we lose when we don't have her. I think next season when she plays more, we'll see more cohesiveness, but Lotte and Leah should NOT be our CB pair, their playing styles are almost identical, individually they're great but together they're not.

I think it's time to realise the fact that we need a rebuild. The club has no vision, no project, we haven't won anything of value for 5 years. We need to start scouting better players, when Jonas looks away from Scandanavian countries, he, 7/10, makes a decent signing. We have a solid core of players that we can build around, Leah, Veen, Katie, Wally, Kim, although I do think we may start seeing her playtime decrease soon, Pelova, Viv (if she stays) Alessia, as a 9 or 10, I don't mind where she plays. Add a few good signings, world class players, and we can catch Chelsea in their transitional period.

If Viv leaves, we're gonna need a new striker, I love Stina but she can't be our number 1. We have the chance to catch up to Chelsea, and I think Man City are only going to grow, especially if they win the WSL this season.

I don't think this season has been very successful, but I don't think we've been successful for a while, and we know that.

#women’s football #lionesses #arsenal women #arsenal #woso #leah williamson #katie mccabe #awfc #caitlin foord #alessia russo #steph catley #lia walti #lia wälti #lotte wubben moy #beth mead #vivianne miedema

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ahundredtimesover · 1 year

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Hiiii how is the love after!couple doing? 🥺💜

Are the girls healthy and happy? 🥺🥺 Guk-ah how is fatherhood going? 💜💜

It's been a while but here we are! I did a reread of TLA and i.hurt.so.much that I just had to write this bc I needed my own closure for all the pain 🥺 so here's a sneak peak into fatherhood and something more. (warning: animal hunting [sorry, rabbits!], sexual content)

Title: The Love After Drabble (06): Do you think it'll ever go away? The guilt of what I've done? || You're reminded of your past

WC: 7,579

From: The Love After (werewolf!JK x human!reader)

“Daddy, I want to be a pink wolf!”

“I want to be yellow!”

“But what if you don’t want to be yellow anymore?”

“What if you don’t want to be pink?”

You’ve opened the door by the time your daughters yell out in unison, “daddy, can we change our colors when we get older?”

You gaze at a wide-eyed Jungkook as he sits on the living room floor with Eunjoo and Hayoon on his lap, his mouth open then closing, perhaps trying to figure out how to tell his kids that, no, they can’t be either of those colors; neither can they change them.

He looks back at the 2 pairs of curious eyes and smiles. “Why don’t we ask Amma later, okay?”

“Okay!” They both squeal, turning to face you with a greeting and then focusing on their works again.

Jungkook stands up and helps you with the produce-filled bags and places them on the dining table.

“We were just coloring and then they decided they wanted to be pink and yellow wolves,” he pouts at you. “I didn’t have the heart to tell them they can’t.”

“Yeah, so you’re gonna let Amma be the one to tell them?” You chuckle. “Back in my day, it was the ‘where did we come from’ question that my parents didn’t wanna answer. Amusing to think that now it’s this.”

“It’s just them, though,” Jungkook sighs. “I don’t think any of the other pups in this town want to have bright-colored fur or something.”

“They’re 3 years old, Kook,” you cup his cheek. “They’re being creative and imaginative and that’s normal when they have parents who read them stories every night. They’ll eventually learn the truth and they would’ve outgrown wanting to become pink or yellow or rainbow-colored wolves by then. So you don’t have to worry about disappointing them, okay?”

You know that’s what he’s more worried about - breaking your daughters’ hearts. It’s the one thing he can’t bear to do, and so many times you’ve had to talk about him learning to say no to them, otherwise they’ll grow up thinking that they could get anything they want, and that’s not the kind of world they live in.

“Fine,” he gives in. “But I’ll really have them ask Amma so I don’t have to answer and see their disappointed faces.”

“Oh, Kook,” you hug him, wanting to comfort your mate who’s made it his goal to always make your daughters laugh and smile. “You’re doing great, okay? We are. I mean, look at them. At that age, Baram was constantly bullying me.”

You and Jungkook laugh as you both soften at the sight of your daughters who exchanged coloring books so they can decorate and draw on what their sister just did. They like sharing things with each other, and that includes their own creations. They like complimenting and hugging each other, too.

“Anyway, was your market run good?” He asks, walking to the kitchen to get the late breakfast dishes that he prepared for all 4 of you.

“Yes,” you grin. “They finally have persimmons and oranges. I got more fruits and vegetables, too. All for half the price.”

“Perks of being the Beta’s mate,” he winks.

“Obviously, although I think we would’ve gotten them for free if you were the one who went to buy,” you laugh.

That wouldn’t be far from the truth. The whole town loves Jungkook, especially those who work at the market because he’s the one who makes sure that their harvests are safe from wild animals. They claim it’s just right that he doesn’t pay much for it; they earn due to his protection, after all.

“That’s true, but those 2 didn’t want to let me go,” he smiles, thinking back to earlier in the morning. He checked on them in their new bedrooms and they woke up, immediately hugging him.

“They’ve missed you,” you say. “We were at my parents’ for an entire week because you decided to be all ‘father of the century’ by building the second floor so they could have a bigger room. You were gone most of the days and they just want to be with you.”

Jungkook shyly smiles and you melt when he does. He kept his promise of building a second story to accommodate your children. He built 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms upstairs and you were blown away when he revealed it to you and your daughters the other day. They squealed in excitement because they could finally have a big space for all their toys.

You don’t know how Jungkook managed to do it in such a short time, but perhaps that has a lot to do with all the help from the townspeople and members of the pack. He rarely ever asks for help, Taehyung told you, so when he inquired about plumbing and bathroom tiles, people were quick to offer.

The second floor is stunning and you’re still in the process of designing it. But it took so much of Jungkook’s time, and so when your daughters woke up to their daddy’s voice, you’re sure they were ecstatic to spend the morning with him, too.

“They seem to like their room a lot,” Jungkook hums. “We were playing there earlier and they asked me to make a dresser and a chest for their things. I’ve got designs in my head already and I can’t wait to make them.”

“How are our daughters just 3 yet they already know what they want and how to get it?” You chuckle. Sure, they grow almost twice as fast as normal humans do, but still, a lot of the things they do surprises you.

“They get it from you,” he laughs now. “And they probably know that I’d do anything for them. I tell them every night.”

“I really hope we’re not raising spoiled kids, Kook,” you furrow your brows.

“We aren’t. You’ll make sure of that.”

“Hey!” You nudge his knee. “I’m not the only one who’s gonna keep them in place.”

“Fine, fine. We both will,” he smiles.

Parenting werewolves is not easy, and for a time, Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever be having this conversation with his mate. Neither did he think he’d ever be able to make this cabin feel like a home for a family, and now, there’s 2 storeys of it filled with nothing but warmth and love that all 4 of you share. He can’t wait to share it with more.

Eunjoo and Hayoon go to you once you call them, and they haven’t really outgrown sitting on both your laps during meals so they could hug you while they eat.

It’s one of your favorite things as a parent, you think, as Hayoon wraps her arms around your neck after a mouthful of grilled fish and rice. She goes back to sitting on your lap to feed herself, and then lays her head on your chest. Eunjoo does something similar with Jungkook, and you both share a look as if to say that you both did this.

All those times of having them sleep in between you and Jungkook and reading them stories and humming them lullabies; all those afternoons of laying on the grass while you all make out the shapes of the clouds; all those evenings of sitting on the couch at the porch, hugging each other under the light blanket - perhaps both your daughters keep all these moments as memories, too, and their affection is all the love they’re returning because of your love that they feel everyday.

“Daddy, will you take us to Amma? I want to ask about our fur,” Eunjoo looks at him sweetly.

You stifle a laugh as Jungkook sighs.

“Yes, angel. I’ll take you and your sister to her,” he says, hugging her back after she squeals. “And you can play with your cousins and the other kids there, too.”

It’s a Saturday, after all, and a lot of families go to the pack house and Amma’s residence to gather over food and conversations while the pups listen to stories and play around the garden by the pond. It’s like a daycare center there, and you’re glad there’s a place for your children to grow and learn about themselves where they’re safe and comfortable.

“I have a meeting with my brothers,” he turns to you. “Are you sure you don’t need my help at your parents’?”

“No need,” you assure him. “Mother just needs someone to carry around furniture and boxes since she wants a repaint. I can handle it.”

Jungkook nods and you both return to your meals, chuckling when the kids slurp their bowls dry and then finish a large piece of orange each. You decide to clean up in the kitchen while he gives them both a bath, and you all spend time choosing the girls’ outfits for today’s afternoon at the pack house.

“Bye, mommy!” They both yell, kissing you sweetly before jumping into their father’s arms. “We’ll see you later!”

You kiss Jungkook and watch them get in the car, gushing at how attached your children are to both of you.

You get back in the cabin and look around, checking every corner to see if there’s something you need to clean or put in order. After rearranging some things, you head out to the backyard and see the remaining slabs of wood that Jungkook didn’t use for the second floor. Those might be for your daughters’ chest and dresser, you think. Some of his tools are still outside, including the one ax that he accidently broke.

You’re reminded again of all the work Jungkook did to continuously make this place a home for your family, and you don’t think you can ever thank him enough. You suppose that a good dinner of rabbit stew and some chicken spinach pies would be a good start.

“Just a little more to the left,” your mother instructs you, and you do as she says before she releases another breath. “Good, you did it. You’re fine.”

“You do know I have superhuman strength now, right?” You laugh at her, knowing that she tends to still worry whenever you lift heavy things. “I can do all this and not break a sweat.”

“I know, my dear. I still need a lot of getting used to,” she smiles. “Both my daughters are incredibly strong beings and well, good on us for not needing to hire more people to fix the house.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll try to learn to paint for you,” you tease. “Jungkook could be your foreman or something.”

“Ah, I don’t want to add to his responsibilities anymore,” she hums. “He’s doing so much fixing your own place and being an amazing father to your 2 girls. He needs to spend the remaining time he has of not working and patrolling with you.”

“I know, but it’s not a big deal,” you assure her. “We spend time together as much as we can. And it’s been a tough few months for him, too; he’s just been needing care and reassurance more than anything. Being mates allows us to just know what the other needs, you know?”

“That’s good,” your mother smiles, cupping your cheek as she walks towards you. “And you’re good at that - giving care and reassurance.”

“Am I already?” You wonder out loud.

You hate to think of a time when it wasn’t the case, and the thought of those months of ignoring Jungkook, shutting him out, and putting him in danger causes an ache in your heart. You’ve tried to make up for all those times but you don’t know if anything you do will also ever be enough.

“Of course, my dear,” she nudges you, acting upset that you’d think otherwise. “He wouldn’t be looking as happy as he does whenever he talks about you if you weren’t. It makes my mornings.”

“And when does this happen?” You arch an eyebrow.

“During the days when he comes over some with meat after a hunt. About twice a week,” she informs you. “He has that glimmer in his eyes, you know? It makes me so thankful that you were fated to him. I just knew he’d love you so well, the kind that would let someone as hurt as you open up completely to him and love him just as much.”

The words are meant to be comforting, and you know your mother means well - she laid witness to you shutting out the entire world after all, and she’d been one of those to ask you to give Jungkook a chance. You just can’t help sometimes but think of how hurt he must’ve been feeling so unwelcomed, unwanted.

You’ll never know what that’s like; that’s the last thing Jungkook would ever make you feel. Even when he’s hurt and dealing with his own pains, he seeks for you.

Like that time a townsman was attacked by a wild boar, leaving him in critical condition, and Jungkook blamed himself for failing to protect him. Or just recently when Mr. Roi, the owner of the workshop he works at, passed away due to an aneurysm and Jungkook was upset that he hadn't sensed it sooner.

He was hard on himself both times but he let you hold him. He was upset and grieving but he let you comfort him. He let you share all that pain with him, and not once did you feel like he wanted to go through all that on his own.

“You okay, sweetie?” Your mother’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

“Yeah, just… thinking. You’re right,” you manage a smile. “Jungkook loves with all of him. The girls and I are so lucky.”

“Well, they’re lucky they have you, too,” she comforts, kissing your forehead. “So I was wondering… what do you think about redesigning your bedroom so it could accommodate your family? Perhaps getting rid of your desk and bookshelf to fit 2 double beds?”

“What for?”

“Well, your father and I were thinking that it would be nice to have you and your sister and your families here some weekends,” your mother says. “Your kids are growing so, so fast and we don’t want to blink and miss all that. And well, it gets lonely here sometimes. And with your grandfather gone…” she trails, her voice dropping low at the thought of how much she misses him. “It’s just… we want to spend time with all of you, all at once. Is that alright?”

“That sounds good,” you say. “The girls will outgrow the double bed but uh, maybe sometime in the future, we could build an extra room just off the living room? Or we could convert grandfather’s—”

“No,” she interjects. “I mean, not yet. I’m… I’m not yet ready to let him go like that.”

You mirror the sadness in her eyes, and though it broke you when your grandfather passed, you can’t imagine how it must’ve been for your mother who’s spent all her life with him. You understand wanting to keep people who have passed in spaces, in things. It lets us feel like they’re still here.

“Okay,” you say. “We can redesign the rooms. I’ll ask Jungkook to help out one weekend.”

Your mother returns your smile and you both get back to work, emptying the living room so the painters could prepare it for tomorrow.

It’s mid afternoon by the time you finish, and you say your goodbye to head home and start preparing for dinner. You work on your dough and filling for the pies, deciding that you’ll go for a hunt while they’re setting.

You’ve never joined Jungkook on a hunt. Ever since your transformation, you’d only ever shifted to run into the mountains or when you feel like your family is in danger. Jungkook had always insisted it was his job to do that, and he knows this area more than anyone; hunting is his thing and there was never a need for you to do it.

Not unless you want to surprise him, of course.

Rabbit stew has become his favorite ever since you prepared it for him one night years ago, when you redid the Ceremony dinner at the cabin. That was the night you admitted what you felt for him, and you have a feeling that Jungkook ties that meaning to the dish. So every time you feel like showing him how you feel - however that is - you make him stew.

There were no rabbits from yesterday’s hunt so you decide to look for them yourself. You shift into your wolf form and head out, trying to remember Jungkook’s hunting strategies that he’s shared with you. You look for fresh prints, sniff their scent, and let the animal in you dictate where to go.

It doesn’t take long for you to sense movement from the meadows a few kilometers away. As you follow the sound, you know it’s what you’re looking for. There are 2 of them and their prints are heavy; they’re big, enough for your family of 4.

You run faster, not wanting them to wander farther. You sneak up on the pair and instantly catch one, alerting the other. You follow, scanning the field before you and knowing that you could easily outrun it, back it into a corner and then call this hunt a success.

The rabbit is fueled by adrenaline, running faster than you expected and heading towards a body of water that you know it hates. But you take this opportunity by outrunning it, growling as you go and then pouncing on it once it nears a boulder.

You’ve got it, the wolf in you rejoices. You know once you shift back into human form, you won’t remember much of this; it’s your first time, anyway. It’s why Jungkook doesn’t let you hunt; once you do it regularly, it becomes a part of you, and killing prey is not something he wants you to get used to, much as it’s for survival. He’s there to do it, it’s in his nature unlike you, a human by birth.

One thing you learned after your transformation is that you don’t retain much of your memory as a wolf when you’re in your human form. But when you’re in your wolf form, your memory as a human remains, balancing you. Amma has said once that it's what reminds you of who you are by nature, that having your human memories is one way to ensure that you don’t remain as a wolf.

It’s why once your forelegs hit the water, you remember.

The breeze that evening. The cold water. The sound of the river’s current.

You remember the feel of the boulder against your soaked body. How hard it was. How it diluted the blood that was seeping out of your head.

The sun had set then, like now. There were wildflowers on the riverbed, like now.

You’re growling, but back then, it wasn’t yourself that you heard - it was another wild animal, big and black and angry.

It was here, years ago, when that bear attacked you, when you were close to giving up, and when Jungkook saved you. He took you on his back and ran as fast as possible to take you to safety. He was frantic in the pack house as he demanded the doctors to save you. It was the same night when you broke his heart for the millionth time by saying that the cabin wasn’t your home, that he wasn’t your home.

You haven’t been here since that night. You hate that it took away from the good memories you had here with Yoongi before, and being back here brings you back to that time when you almost gave up on yourself. When you almost gave up on Jungkook.

The human fear and sadness from that time alerts you that you have to leave, that you have to shift back. So you run as fast as you can and head back home, prey in hand, and tears in your eyes.

Standing in your shower as you wash away the blood from your body, you feel betrayed. You aren’t supposed to remember much of what you saw but you remember it. You remember everything.

Perhaps it’s because those were your human memories and that’s why it’s as clear as day; being in that place as a wolf doesn’t mean you’ll forget what you experienced.

Because you’re here now, unable to move, feeling an unnameable type of pain that’s familiar, and it hurts so bad. If it wasn’t for your timer going off to say that your pot is boiling, you’d be staying here for hours.

It felt so vivid. You didn’t think that being back there would make you recall how it was that night even if you didn’t remember much right after. It’s been years, after all, but as you caress your neck to feel the mark of your bond, you know why you feel empty yet heavy; you know why you feel like your heart is being ripped apart even as it beats rapidly.

It may be your memory, but it’s Jungkook’s pain you’re feeling.

The sight of you helpless. The thought of you giving up, of losing you for good.

The thought of him withering away at the loss of you.

The thought of never having this home, this family, this love.

You exit the bathroom and see your bed, and you remember the nights you spent holding his hand because he’d been weak, because you’d selfishly taken all his energy, because you’d taken so much of him without giving anything in return.

You remember the fear you felt of losing him, the guilt of hurting him, and the worry that you might never be able to make it up to him.

You feel Jungkook’s pain. And yours. All at once.

You’re surprised you manage to make a decent-tasting rabbit stew and not burn the pies given how absent-minded you’ve been since you got back from your hunt. You suppose it’s due to muscle memory; you’ve made these dishes so many times before. Just like as it’s reflex for you to turn to the door once to hear it unlock, even if you’re unable to fully process what’s happening.

“Mommy!” Eunjoo and Hayoon greet in unison as they run to you for a hug.

“Welcome back,” you coo, taking them into your arms and giving them a tight hug. If there’s anything to remind you that everything from earlier is a memory, it’s them - the manifestation of the love you share with your mate. “How was your afternoon?”

They yell over the other about things they did, but you pick up that they listened to some stories, planted flowers, and fed the fish in the pond.

“I’m glad you both had a great time there,” you kiss their noses. “Did you give daddy a hard time?”

They look at each other before smiling and squealing, in unison, no. You cock an eyebrow at them before looking to your husband for the truth.

“They wanted to follow the ducks into the lake,” he playfully shakes his head. “They said they want to learn to float in the water or something.”

“Oh, my babies. You’ll learn to do more than that,” you smile, kissing them again before letting them jump on the couch and turning the TV on.

“Hey,” Jungkook kisses your lips now. He turns his head towards the pot and his eyes get bigger. “Rabbit stew? How… how did you get the meat?”

“I hunted,” you smile, letting it fade right after.

“You, what? Hey, that’s my job,” he pouts.

“I know, but I wanted to surprise you with your favorite dish,” you reply. “It was a quick hunt. And it won’t happen again.”

He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to say more, but he just kisses your forehead and whispers his thanks when you don’t.

“Can you set up the table, please? I should be done soon.”

Jungkook does as you ask, and it’s not long after when the 4 of you are seated on the dining table, with Eunjoo and Hayoon taking turns narrating - with more details - what happened today. You’re amused, as you always are. They’re only 3 but they can do so much; they’re still babies in your eyes and perhaps they’ll always be.

You nod and ask questions, but you think that Jungkook can sense something is wrong, as he takes your hand under the table and catches your eye when you look his way. You fake a smile to assure him, even if you know he can see right through you.

“Mommy, I’m tired,” Eunjoo says after squealing about how cute ducks are. She lays her head on the table and Hayoon does the same, facing her.

“I’m sure you both are,” Jungkook says, taking both girls in his arms. “Why don’t mommy and I get you 2 ready for bed, huh?”

“Okay!” They both speak at the same time.

“Leave these here first,” he tells you. “Let’s tuck them in, together.”

You nod and follow, with Jungkook leading the way to their bathroom.

Your daughters imitate ducks as you bathe them in their tub, and you watch in awe as Jungkook plays along with them. He knows just what to do to get their attention, and you adore the way he takes care of them - making sure the water’s not too hot or cold, massaging their heads as he shampoos their hair, then wiping them dry once they decide another time that they’re both tired.

Snug in their towels, he lays them on their beds. “Tell mommy how much you love her, okay?” He whispers in both their ears, although it’s something you hear. He turns to you and says he’ll start cleaning up downstairs and you nod in response.

It’s more quiet with you and your daughters now. You want to savor this time with them as you gaze at their eyes that are just like their father’s. Energetic as they are, they have his warm heart and his affection, too, as they hug you tightly and tell you that they love you very much, and it’s not just because their daddy told them so.

You wish them goodnight and head down the stairs, no longer surprised when you see that in a short amount of time, Jungkook’s managed to clean everything up.

“I’m outside,” he calls out once he hears you’re back.

You walk out onto the porch, letting the cool wind embrace you. He’s sitting on the couch, looking out into the forest. He turns to you with a comforting smile.

“Hey,” he says.

There’s so much warmth in his eyes. You often wonder how the fiercest wolf of the pack can have so much tenderness in his body. It’s in the way he speaks to you, looks at you, holds you. You don’t want to imagine a world where you don’t experience this; you hate to think that there was a moment where it could’ve been taken away from you, where all this could’ve been taken away from him.

You give in, knowing that at the end of the day, he’s all you need.

You sit yourself on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, your face finding refuge at the crook of it. You breathe against his skin but the tears sting your eyes. You let them fall anyway.

His large hands envelope you - one holds your hip against him, the other caresses your back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks after a while.

“I was chasing the rabbits and I ended up at the river,” you finally say. “The one… the one where I fell, where there was, uh. Where you saved me.”

You turn to face him, tear-stained cheeks hurting him as he looks at you.

“And then I remembered,” you continue. “I remembered almost giving up. I remembered almost letting go.”

The words pierce through. Jungkook remembers it, too. He remembers your faint heartbeat and the way you’d slowly loosened your grip on that boulder. He remembers feeling like his world was ending, seeing you helpless and scared.

“I haven’t gone there since that day. And being there again just… I…”

You break into a sob before you can say more. It’s overwhelming to feel this much sadness, this much regret. It’s as if seeing where it all happened after you’d buried that memory made your life in the past few years flash before your eyes, as if all that’s good was being stripped away from you.

And it almost felt like your heart was being torn into pieces. The way it tore Jungkook’s. Perhaps that’s what you felt - his heart at that moment, breaking.

He wishes he was there with you so you didn’t have to go deep into the memory, that he could protect you from all that hurts you. He can, but not from this.

“I wasn’t good to you, Jungkook,” you say this time, eyes glazed from all the tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” he exclaims. “We’re past that. There’s nothing to apologize for anymore.”

“It’s so heavy,” you sigh, breathless, as you clutch your chest. “It’s hard to breathe. I keep thinking of everything I put you through, of every time I pushed you away and kept you out, all the times that I made you feel unwanted, that I made you feel like I would never love you. I keep thinking that I… hurt you. So much. And I didn't… I didn’t stop.”

“Look at me,” he urges you, his own eyes glassy now at the sight of you carrying all this burden. “Feel this.”

Jungkook takes your hand to his chest.

“My heart is beating, the way yours is. They’re connected. We’re alive and we’re safe and we’re home. We made it that way because we chose to try, because we chose to move past all that happened because we wanted this. We wanted to love each other. And I don’t doubt that love even for a second,” he says, desperate for you to listen to his words. “Whatever parts of me you hurt, you’ve healed them. Everyday that I come home to you and our children, I heal. You heal me. That’s all that matters.”

Jungkook always said he’s not good with words. But you disagree. Every time he speaks like this, he heals you just as much.

“I don’t ever want to live a life that isn’t with you,” you manage to say. “I don’t ever want to live a life where I’m not loved by you.”

“And you won’t ever know a life like that,” he assures you. “I’d save you in a heartbeat, ___. I’d save you a thousand times a day if I have to.”

It feels like hours that Jungkook holds you - on his lap while your head rests on his chest. You just want to feel his warmth, feel his heart, the one that’s connected in so many ways to yours.

“Let’s have a bath, okay?” He says.

You wrap your arms around his neck again. “Okay.”

This attachment tells Jungkook you don’t want to let go, so he stands up and carries you in his arms, walking both of you towards the bathroom. You remove yourself from him once he places you on the floor, and he tells you to wait for him as he fills up the tub.

He returns to you right after and kisses your forehead before undressing you, slowly removing your shirt and then your jeans. He helps you get rid of your undergarments, leaving you bare for him.

Jungkook doesn’t take his eyes off you as he undresses himself, but he keeps them on your face, studying the sadness emanating from it.

He’s bare in seconds, and he takes your hand and guides you towards the tub - the one he built, wooden and deep and spacious for both of you.

“Come,” he whispers.

You follow, sitting yourself between his legs and laying against his chest.

You and Jungkook do this often. Though neither of you ever gets tired, your shared warm bath helps your bodies relax. It lets you feel close to each other, too, and it’s times like this when you feel what he’s said - that your hearts and your bodies are connected.

He kisses you tenderly, starting from your temple to your cheeks, inching downward until he reaches your neck and then the mark that bears your oneness.

There’s a certain kind of emotion that stirs within you whenever he does that, and you sigh in relief, because that’s what the act usually does - it assures you, comforts you, unburdens you to some extent and lets you breathe.

You sigh, closing your eyes. You’re starting to feel lighter with just this.

“You held onto me, you know?” He speaks after a while. “During those times, you made me feel like you still needed me in your own ways. Even if it was just my warmth, you’d move closer, and anytime I could see that you liked what I could give, it made it all worth it. And then you called for me that night. I… I knew then that you needed me and I wasn’t ever gonna let you go.”

You turn to him with questioning eyes.

“That night? After the attack?” You ask.

Things were hazy for you but you know nothing about calling for him. You turned him away after all, and said he wasn’t home.

“You did,” Jungkook hums, recalling the car ride home and taking you to your room. “We were back at your parents’ house and I was… well, I was a mess. It was hard seeing you in pain and I just cried. I kept crying, actually.” He chuckles, trying to make light of it. “You were asleep but you were tossing and turning. A bad dream, I think. So I just held your hand and then you called my name. It was a whisper but I heard it. Whatever the reason, I just felt like somewhere deep down, you needed me.”

“Maybe I did,” you nod, smiling despite the tears in your eyes. “‘Maybe I didn’t know it then but my heart did. My heart knew it needed you.”

“It’s a good way of looking at it, right?” He smiles back.

“It is. But it doesn’t mean I’m any less sorry,” you pout now.

“I know, and I wish I can change your mind.”

Jungkook has a forgiving heart. You’ve always known it. He told you once that he lacks the strength that you have but you know it takes courage to forgive. And he forgives you every time. He does it without fail.

You think about this as you both finish your bath. You gaze at him and watch his every forgiving and loving movement as he wipes you dry and leads you back to the bedroom. Wanting to feel him bare against you, you trace his face as you hover over him, having slid in between his legs again so you can look at him fully.

He’s a lot softer now. You remember you used to see tenderness only in his eyes. His face was always so hard, so strained. You’d find out later on just how much he was holding back on a lot of things. But now, he melts into your touch and it says of how much that’s changed.

You wonder if you’ll ever stop thinking about it - how much you hurt him, how close you were to not having him. Everything he is now may be because of you, but a lot of who he was back then was because of you, too.

You lay on top of him, your chest flushed against his. You listen to his heartbeat while his fingers trace patterns on your back. It’s soothing more than anything, and it’s what prompts you to ask.

“Do you think it’ll ever go away?” You wonder out loud. “The guilt of what I’ve done?”

You push yourself up to look at him, curious if he’d fallen asleep because of his silence.

“I wish it would,” he finally says. “I can’t… I can’t lose you to your thoughts.”

Not again, he doesn’t say.

You feel things. Too much sometimes. Guilt is not an exception. And he worries that if you keep that with you, it might be what would pull you both apart.

But you know what he means without him saying it. You lived in your mind and in your pain all those months, and he lost you to them before he could even have you. And this… this might not be any different.

What is guilt but chains, you think. Guilt isn’t love. It doesn’t make the other person feel loved. Maybe it’s what would drive them away.

“We should be enough, don’t you think? Me, this home, our girls?” Jungkook asks, almost desperately. “Love got you this, not guilt.”

“I’m scared that the more I think of how much you love me, I’ll think of how you’d done that so selflessly. And that’s why the guilt creeps in, like it did today,” you try to explain. “Because you had to lose so much of yourself for me to see how much I needed you. And you still had so much to give.”

“I’ll always have a lot to give. Because I take from you,” he says, caressing your mark. “That’s what’s so beautiful about this - we give to each other and we take from each other. And we’ll never run out. And so that guilt? I’ll take it from you, I’ll share it with you. Maybe that’s how it goes away.”

“I don’t want to feel it anymore. Because I don’t want you to feel it,” you pout.

Maybe that’s how it goes away, you think.

“Then we won’t feel it,” he chuckles softly. “But know that whatever it is that’s inside you, it’s mine, too. You’re my mate, ___. I’m here because of you.”

You nod vigorously as tears slide down your cheeks again. “Okay. We’ll share it all. We’ll share everything.”

There’s clarity in your eyes. There’s acceptance. There’s understanding and remembrance of the promise you made to the Moon and to each other. And as you look back at him, he feels you slowly give all that guilt up so he can take pieces of it from you.

You kiss his lips once, and then another time. The next is long and deep, and the way you pull the tips of his hair and push against him tells him what you need.

He needs it, too, so he helps you mount him, your hands now on his shoulders as your lips glide against his hard cock. His hands on your waist guide you as you move until you give him that look that lets him know where you want him this time.

Jungkook lets you slide down on him, his tip hitting your edges right away and this is how you want it tonight - you want to feel it all. You want to take control at the beginning and give it all to him. You want to look into his eyes as you move up and down on his shaft while moaning his name.

He matches your movements, pushing upwards just as hard so he could feel every inch of you, too. He sits up and you come the first time when he swallows your breast, his tongue swirling around your pert nipple. He lets you come down from your high as he wraps his arms around your waist, his head against your chest while it heaves to let him know how good he made you feel.

There are no other words said. You both know what the act of mating does and with how heavy it’d been, doing this all night is what you both need to once more feel that oneness, to feel that sharing of pain and hurt, to give and take each other’s strength.

Because behind the pleasure is that trust, that undeniable connection. It’s the love that courses through your veins and that you hear in each other’s beating hearts; it’s the loss of breath and moans of your names, the glassy eyes and trembling lips as you let each other know just how healing this love is because it’s meant to.

Because that’s what it means when you’re fated with someone - you feel their pain and their joy like it’s yours. You trust that at your most vulnerable, they’ll hold you like you’ll break but they won’t treat you like you’re fragile. And they’ll kiss all the broken parts of you and love you hard until you’re whole.

“Sleep,” he tells you after you come for the fourth time, caressing your cheek and kissing your lips. “It’ll all be better in the morning.”

The sun is high, almost blinding. Your book isn’t big enough to block its shine but it still works. The wind is cool and the day is too nice for it to not be spent outside.

And it’s where you are - at the meadow where you’d fallen asleep before the incident by the river. Jungkook thought it would be nice to bring the girls somewhere new where they could ride their new bicycles after having just learned, and you were the one who suggested this place.

He was unsure - you’d cried about the painful memories of that night and its aftermath just last week - but he gave in after you said that you’re feeling better, and that maybe the guilt can completely go away if you replace the bad memories with good ones. Eunjoo and Hayoon were running around and picking flowers earlier, and their squeals and sounds of wonder have been all worth it.

Jungkook’s smile is worth it, too. Laid on his lap, you lower your book to get a peek of your mate, and the look of pure joy he has on is indescribable. The sparkle in his eyes whenever he watches your daughters is something you hold dear in your heart; you’re glad it’s the one image you can’t ever get out of your head.

“Careful, you two!” He calls out after Eunjoo falls to the side.

She quickly stands up and waves at both of you. “I’m okay, daddy! I’m strong!”

“You’re still a child, though,” he answers back.

“But I’m a strong child! See? No booboos!” She counters, earning you and Jungkook a laugh.

“Look at them go,” you say, humming when he combs your hair with his fingers. “They were latching on to me not long ago and now, they’ll bike and run around for as long as they can.”

“Our kind really grows too fast,” he chuckles. “They’ll probably be jumping over rocks and running up mountains in no time.”

“I wish time would stop,” you sigh. “Just so we can savor these moments with them. And just so we won’t have our babies no longer needing us so soon.”

“Well, time won’t stop but you do know that we have a lot of time,” he says. “You know what that means.”

“Uh, I’m not sure I do?” You sit up and face his smirking form.

“We can always have more pups,” he shrugs, the statement so casual as if it’s that easy to just decide on having more children. “The girls are grown. We can handle things. I… I’d like to think we love each other even more now. What do you think?”

The thought of it excites you. Sure, there are so many things to consider. But you’d like to think that with all that’s happened in the past years, and especially last week, there’s so much more for you to give.

You look at Jungkook and the way his eyes shine and his smile softens when he talks about your daughters. There was a time when all he had was an empty cabin and himself - none of your nightly family cuddles on the porch, none of the snowball fights during winter, none of the laughter and giggles and homemade pies and handmade wooden toys that you all bond over.

Home has become more than a structure for Jungkook, it’s now more than a dream - it’s people he loves and he’ll continue to love. And you know you want to give that to him. You want to give him that joy of being able to create a bigger home with more children he’ll care for, because you know that there’s so much space for his incredible heart for that.

“Okay,” you smile. “I’d love to have more children with you, Kook.”

He can’t contain his smile, and all he can do is hug you tightly and let you feel through this how much it means to him. You hug him back and kiss his cheek, and he can tell that you want this, too.

“Family hug!” Hayoon squeals once she turns towards your direction, and it’s not long after when both girls are running towards you, squeezing themselves in between the spaces and hugging you and Jungkook.

Their giggles are music to your ears, and the image of more of them doing this with you makes your heart jump. Your home will be bigger, and you can’t wait for that, too.

Permanent Taglist:@sherlynxx @di0rgguk @thequeen-kat @fan-ati--c–@cravingforhotchocolate @adoraminie @helenazbmrskai @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @preciouschimine @gukssunshine @nch327 @kookxin @petuliii @yoursthv @libra04 @fancycollectormoon @twixxxpie @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-g @bids97 @minyoongiboongi @main-bangtansmauyeondan @bora-bae7 @investedreader @petalsofink @jvngkooker

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#jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkoko fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #werewolf au #werewolf jk #werewolf bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #series

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okkottsus · 1 year

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I usually dont mind ppl having different interpretations of characters and relationships, but this is just an insult to my boy’s character and his connection to nagi.

Reo may have developed an interest in nagi bc of his talent (and i find the notion of him doing the same thing he hated his family for at the start very interesting btw), but since then he obviously has developed an emotional attachment, and to him, it has to be nagi. he’s met people with even more skill than him in blk but he still hasnt spared them a 1/100 of the attention he gives to his best friend.

ofc i think it was important for them to improve on their own and maybe it was premature of him to go back to devoting himself to nagi so quickly, but i truly believe its bc he understood nagi’s perspective since he “abandoned him” and his true intentions.

the difference in their perspectives is very clear even before they enter blue lock:

at that point winning the world cup was just reo’s dream but even then, to reo, the most important thing was for them to be together until the end (nagi was the one who made him promise that would be the case too !!) , while nagi was content with just going along with him bc he started caring abt him as a person

until they lost to isagi’s team. from that moment, he decided (and was right imo) that they need to do whatever they can, even if they have to take separate paths for some time, to get stronger.

and nagi didnt “lose sight of their og goal” what are they talking about?? nagi literally mentions/thinks about their dream to be the best together every chance he gets?? he even got mad at reo cause he thought his friend was the one who forgot about their dream. he thought he was taking the vital steps to make it a reality and was frustrated reo couldnt see that:

reo felt betrayed because he cared about nagi himself as much as he cared about their dream and thought that nagi used him as a stepping stone to move forward alone, when actually it would be more accurate to say that nagi views everyone except for reo as a stepping stone. (i dont blame reo for this, since even tho nagi tried to communicate that hes doing it for them, he did a terrible job of it).

but during their latest talk reo had already worked on himself and had acknowledged the fact that he was in the wrong for assuming that them being together no matter the cost was the right thing

so when nagi approached him and explained himself a little better this time (boy was shocked when he realised how reo took their separation and put in a little bit more effort lol)

reo finally understood how their desires intertwine now. how can people claim that reo sees nagi as a tool when its more of the other way around; meaning reo sees himself as a tool for making nagi the best striker in the world and he already declared that to Ego before:

and again now:

plus saying that he and nagi arent friends and they are just using each other is so out of touch with everything we’ve seen so far. reo’s devotion to nagi aside, nagi too cares for reo a lot outside of soccer. even after he left reo, he still got excited to see him and talk to him despite everything; to him it was obvious they would continue to interact no matter which team each of them was on:

and he also felt bad for hurting him and expressed the hope that he would forgive him

the only thing that i wish would happen now is for nagi to apologise to reo face to face instead of only doing it in his own thoughts, and for reo to also talk about why he was hurt. but i feel like they understood each other either way without many words, because in the end, their bond is just that strong.

they now both want to succeed more than they ever have before and have stopped being their complacent selves we met during the first selection. they are both thinking far into the future and not just within blue lock, so whether they keep moving forward together or separated from now on, it will be knowing they are working towards their shared dream.

#blue lock #blue lock spoilers #nagireo #reonagi #if u read all this u're a hero asdjk its all over the place like my feelings #but yeh. i love them #hope this shows in the tags now...how am i supposed to share my thoughts with the 15 ppl who r as obsessed with them as i am huh

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bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years

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OMG congratulations on 500 followers!!! All of your prompts are so fun but I just HAVE to request #5 (and obviously 🌶). Thank you so much and no rush!

Hiiii babes! Thank you so much for the kind words and the ask!! You're my first 500 Follower Celebration prompt fill! This one had been writing itself in my head for weeks so thrilled you requested it straight out the gate!!

The prompt: Jake gets too invested in Nyla’s little league soccer games…she’s 3

Requested by: the darling @pleasurebuttonwrites!

Spice-o-meter: 🌶 - Rated G/T, some references to sexual content at most

Word Count: 2.4k (we all know I can't write a drabble, right?)

TW/CW: Reader is pregnant, Jake is one of those dads who absolutely goes off on the sidelines during their kid’s sports, blink-and-you-miss-it reference to sexytimes, mucho swearing in Spanish (translations at the bottom of the fic as per usual) and a fook toon of fluff!

A/N: As the daughter of an American dad but being raised in London, I have made the following executive decisions about Nyla’s American & British-isms: she calls the reader Mommy instead of Mummy but refers to soccer as football.

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommyyyy,” was how you were woken up this morning, accompanied by your three-year-old daughter launching herself into your bed. She startled both you and your husband awake.

While you were bleary, Jake was alert at once and wasted no time chiding her, “Nyla, what did I tell you about jumping on Mommy and Daddy’s bed like that? Especially since Mommy has a baby in her tummy now?”

“Sorry,” Nyla apologized, wriggling in between you two. You shifted your baby-heavy body to face her, and drew Nyla into your arms. “Sorry Mommy.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed her.

Jake rolled out of bed to start the coffee, since with a wakeup call like that, caffeine was going to be more necessary than usual today.

Nyla snuggled impossibly closer to you and with a mane full of bedhead, asked you in a whisper. “Will you give me braids?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but only if you say the magic word,” you prompted.

“Pleeeeeease,” she automatically responded.

“Okay, baby, let Mommy get up and I’ll help you get dressed.”

“I’m not a baby,” Nyla argued. “The baby’s in there.”

She pointed to your bump. “That’s right! And the baby’s going to root for you at the game today.”

“Like Daddy does?” Nyla asked as she led you back into her bedroom.

“Well, hopefully not exactly like Daddy does,” you amended.

This was the first fall Nyla was old enough to enroll in team sports, and no one had been more excited for her to begin playing football than Jake. Initially, it was nothing but endearing. He’d take Nyla to the park to practice outside of her scheduled ones with her little team, and you’d come watch them when you were feeling up to it. It was all very wholesome and sweet, Jake lowered his guard down for so few people, and it made your heart sing that he’d let you and Nyla in.

Jake’s enthusiasm for Nyla’s nascent football career took a turn for the infuriating at her first game, however. What was meant to be a chill Saturday morning in Regent’s Park had your jaw on the ground before you buried your head in your hands in frustration, since your husband treated your daughter’s Under-4 football game as if it were the championship match of the World Cup.

It was horrifying in your opinion. Not only did Jake yell from the sidelines to coach Nyla, he nearly picked a fight with the poor uni student refereeing their game, topping it all off by swearing loudly in Spanish every time they “missed a play”. Which was often, because you know, they were toddlers.

The first game you’d been overwhelmed with shock and terror at your husband’s behavior. The next time, you tried to give Jake a task to distract him. You asked him to film the game so as to add it to your home video collection of Nyla’s childhood, wanting to commemorate her first season playing a sport like any good parent. Unfortunately, that backfired too, and now you had Jake swearing like a sailor at a group of three-year-olds on tape for posterity.

Today was another gameday, and you knew this time you’d have to confront him about it head on. That’s why when Nyla bounded out of the car and asked to walk to the pitch with her friend Abby and her parents, you let her. You needed to talk to your husband alone. Also, it was your week to bring the snacks for the team, so given that, plus your bump, the chairs, and not to mention all of Nyla’s football kit she conveniently left in the car, you and Jake were going nowhere fast.

“How are you feeling mamacita?” he asked you, carrying the tray of orange slices that Steven dutifully cut up the night before. Jake had a firm claim on Nyla’s game days, but his other alters tried to contribute too when they could.

“I’m alright,” you told him, making slow progress across the car park to where the pitches were. “This boy is getting big.”

“Well, just take it easy,” he admonished you. Jake’s worrying over your wellbeing and your unborn son was so damn charming that you almost forgot about laying down the ground rules for today’s game.

“Thank you, hun. You know what would be a big help?”

“Cualquier cosa para tí,” Jake averred. Famous last words.

“The worst thing for the baby right now is stress,” you began cautiously. “And it would greatly reduce my stress levels if you weren’t as much of an active participant during the game today.”

“What do you mean?” He followed up. Oh God, he didn’t get it. You prayed he was playing dumb.

“Your yelling on the sidelines? Think you could dial it back today? If not for my sake, for Nyla’s?”

Jake scoffed, “I don’t yell.”

You stopped dead in your tracks. “Jake Lockley.”

“Qué quieres decir? I’m cheering her on!” he claimed.

“By swearing in Spanish at a bunch of little kids?”

“They can’t understand it,” he muttered.

“You don’t know that,” you countered, “and that’s neither here nor there. I can understand it, and Nyla can understand enough of it.”

“Bien, bien,” he grumbled in surrender, “Estaré callado hoy.”

“Gracias Papi,” you rewarded him with a chaste kiss, “I will admit, it’s pretty impressive. You watch the game like they’re pros.”

“Because I care about her,” he offered, a little wounded from your admonition. Everyone who said women were more sensitive than men were liars. And probably men.

“I know honey, and it’s so sweet,” you comforted him, “and I hate to remind you, but you’re not at Wembley.”

Jake gave you a sidelong, suggestive glance. “Do I get a reward for good behavior today?”

“Is carrying your baby again not enough of a reward?” you shot back.

That quieted him down until you joined the other parents on the sidelines. Miraculously, despite Jake’s sideline antics the past few weeks, everyone greeted you politely. Before you eased down into the portable fabric chair Jake had set up for you, Abby’s mom, also known as your friend Charlotte, asked if you wanted to walk to get coffee at a nearby stand since the kiddos were still warming up.

“Checking in on you mumma,” she elucidated once you were out of earshot of your husbands.

“I’m good,” you chirped.

Charlotte shot you a look that told you she wasn’t buying it.

“Okay fine,” you resigned, “my back hurts like a bitch because I’m huge again, all I want are prawn cocktail crisps and I hate myself for it because they’re disgusting, Nyla nearly took my leg out when she jumped into our bed this morning, oh and I’m nursing my husband’s bruised ego because I told him he can’t scream at literal children during his daughter’s football game.”

Charlotte laughed, “Now that's what I’m talking about!”

You two had reached the front of the line for coffee. You got a herbal tea since you’d already reached your pregnancy coffee limit for the day and Charlotte placed her order as well as insisted on paying, which was kind of her.

“‘Course,” she effaced when she beat you by tapping her phone on the stand’s ApplePay reader. “You brought the oranges today. I still can’t believe you wanted to be in the snack mum rotation, I would’ve deffo played the pregnancy card.”

“Well, I did want to,” you shrugged while you both headed back to the pitch.

“Such a one-kid mum,” she chided you playfully.

“Not for much longer,” you reminded her, “might as well enjoy it while I can.”

“Did you really tell Jake he can’t shout on the sidelines?” Charlotte inquired.

“Yes!” you averred. “Someone had to! I can’t believe the other parents talked to us just now after how he’s been acting.”

“Because you have a fit husband, babes,” Charlotte pointed out. “Honestly, I bet the other mums have been enjoying Jake’s latin passion on the pitch, it’s quite the change of pace from their boring, vanilla British hubbies.”

“That’s true,” you admitted. “But even latin passion runs its course, trust me.”

You returned to the sideline, taking your seat next to Jake, who was sitting for once during the kid’s kickoff.

You had to give him some credit, you supposed, Jake tried to contain himself. He was well-behaved at the start of the game, politely clapping and calling “let’s go Nyla!” at a respectable volume.

You two waved at your daughter from the field, who was proudly sporting the pigtail braids you’d done for her that morning and looking so stinking cute in her little uniform. Naturally, your phone came out of your purse so you could snap a few photos.

Everything was going well during the first quarter (the little ones played quarters instead of halves due to their preschool attention spans) until the ref called a ball out of bounds.

Reflexively, Jake sprung to his feet and hollered “Come on ref! They didn’t kick it out! Fue ese chico agresivo en el otro equipo–ay Dios mio, tiene ojos?”

You tugged on the corner of his leather jacket with a harshly whispered “Jake.”

“Lo siento,” he mumbled and took his seat once again. “But clearly that kid who’s been throwing elbows this whole time–”

“I don’t care,” you hissed. “They’re three.”

“That kid is at least five.”

You rolled your eyes instead of dignifying his accusation with a verbal response. It baffled you that Jake was able to even somewhat discern what was going on. To you, these games consisted of the kids from both teams just chasing the ball up and down the field in an amorphous swarm for forty minutes. Usually, at least one kid would break away from the pack to pick at the grass. Or their nose.

Jake didn’t have another incident until the end of the second quarter, when one of Nyla’s teammates scored in their own goal. He was up on his feet swearing so quickly it took you a second to register what was going on.

“Joder! Este juego es una broma, donde esta el arbitro? Puta de madre –”

It was then that Jake caught you glaring at him, the severity in your eyes causing him to flush. “Yo sè. Pero, nena–”

“Don’t nena me,” you cut him off. “Come give me a hand, it’s almost snack time and we need to get everything ready.”

Your husband cooperated immediately, and while you unpacked the juice boxes from the cooler for Nyla and her teammates, you did catch a couple of the posh North London mums staring at Jake like he was a piece of steak. You chuckled to yourself, you and your husband were incredibly secure in your relationship, but it was amusing to discover that Charlotte’s hunch was correct.

Soon the ref blew their whistle and ten little uniformed rascals sprinted over to where you and Jake had unpacked the orange slices, granola bars, and juice boxes.

“Did you see me?” Nyla asked Jake while she gulped down her juice. You tried to sneak some water in there too but were unsuccessful. She was lucky her little brother limited your movement for the time being.

“Por supuesto princesa,” he assured her. “You were great out there!”

“You were barely yelling,” she pointed out. Great, now Nyla was used to her father's batshit sideline antics.

“That’s because Daddy was working on his sportsmanship,” you provided before Jake could get a word in.

“Even though you might not hear me, cariño, just remember what Papi taught you…”

“Mándenlos al infierno!” your daughter recited. You gaped in shock, whether it was more over the war cry that came out of your three-year-old and the fact your husband taught her the phrase.

“We don’t say that,” you objected. You sent a death glare towards Jake then eased down onto your knees to get eye-level with Nyla. “Remember what Coach Harris says, sportsmanship is more important than the score.”

“Mierda,” Jake scoffed under his breath.

You ignored him for the time being, opting to kiss your girl on the cheek instead. “Have fun baby, and just make sure you’re being a good sport, okay?”

The whistle blew, signaling it was time for the players to circle back with their coaches. Nyla seemed to have heard at least part of what you said, because as she jogged back across the field, she was compelled to remind you, “I’m not a baby!”

Your husband helped you up once more and as soon as you were standing, you fired at him, “It’s one thing to yell at her games, but can you please not teach my daughter to give them hell?”

“Why are you worried about me, hm?” Jake confronted you. “What, are you scared of what these fancy fucks might think?”

“Not one bit,” you parried. “I’m more concerned about the example we’re setting for our child. Because she's not actually playing football to win, we put her in this for her to learn teamwork, discipline and have a new experience.”

“Yo sé todo de eso, but I’m the one who would pick her up from practice and her coach told me that she’d sit on the sidelines scared to death when they’d scrimmage.”

“You never told me that,” you accused him, your heart dropping at the revelation.

“Well, because I wanted to handle it,” Jake confessed. “You’re supermom, and I’m only one-third of her father, and this was something I knew I could do. So yeah, we’d practice on our own and I wanted her to build some confidence, that’s all.”

You bit back tears (thanks pregnancy hormones!) at his words. It all made perfect sense. Why he taught her the colorful language, and why Jake spouted his own on the sidelines. Your husband was making sure Nyla felt supported and was trying to dismantle her fear about getting up and competing in his signature Jake way.

Almost everyone knows that the secret to a long-lasting marriage is compromise. So you proposed one at that moment, “I won’t stop you from getting into the game honey, but just…no swearing, okay? Please?”

“Bien nena,” he accepted your terms, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Besides, wouldn’t want to disappoint my audience.”

He covertly glanced at the uptight posh mums of Nyla’s teammates. He was aware of them too. It made you laugh and roll your eyes, and the whistle sounded again to start the next quarter.

“Help me sit down again?” you entreated Jake.

“Si mami,” he murmured, offering his arms for you to brace your weight on as you lowered back down into the chair.

Jake even took his seat next to you, linking in his hand in your for a blissful few minutes, until he popped back up again to cheer Nyla and her team on.

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Taglist: @twwcs @rmoonstoner @hot-mess-express1, @murdickdocked, @toracainz @saahmi @unspokenmoon @winterbiipp @avatarofseshat @ilikeoldermenhelp @losers-club6, @harrys-tittie, @ninebluehearts, @lucianadraven32, @dawnsutopia, @strawberry1042-blog

Translations:

Mamacita - little mama

Cualquier cosa para tí - anything for you

“Qué quieres decir? - what do you mean?

Bien, bien - okay, okay

Estaré callado hoy - I’ll be quiet today

Gracias Papi - Thank you Daddy

Fue ese chico agresivo en el otro equipo–ay Dios mio, tiene ojos? - It was that aggressive kid on the other team - oh my God, do you have eyes?

Lo siento - I’m sorry

Joder! Este juego es una broma, donde esta el arbitro? Puta de madre… - Fuck! This game is a joke, where is the ref? Son of a bitch

Yo sè. Pero, nena– I know, but babe

Por supuesto princesa - of course princess

cariño - sweetie

Mándenlos al infierno - give them hell!

Mierda - bullshit

Yo sé todo de eso - I know all of that

Si mami - Yes mama

#moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fluff #jake lockley #jake lockely x female reader #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley x you #bit-dodgy's 500 follower celebration #moon knight

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magnus-sm-writes · 1 month

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10k Update

I’ve decided I’m going to do a revamp of my writing updates for every 10,000 words I write. It’s a pretty good way to keep up with everything I write that doesn’t make it in the monthly update by virtue of it just being too damn long ago.

It’s pretty early in the month for me to have already reached 10,000 words, but I’ll admit I’ve been a bit of a powerhouse lately with my writing. Maybe it’s because I haven’t slept much? I always seem to be more creative when I’m a little loopy. My brand of creativity seems to thrive when I’m just slightly off-balance.

Regardless, I’m thrilled to say that I’ve written some pretty decent work so far.

The first thing I wrote for was for Silver Storm, a novel that features Hiprax, the son of a silver dragon. It takes place in my Dragonworld, a world that is literally made of a sleeping dragon. Undoubtedly my coolest worldbuilding ever, and perhaps even my magnum opus when it comes to worldbuilding.

(I hope not, but as of now, it is.)

My husband adores this most of anything I’ve ever written for Silver Storm. This was wonderful for my ego; he’s pretty tough on books. Especially my fantasy books, because that is the main genre he reads. For him to shower this snippet with compliments… it does things to a man’s confidence.

I did work on part of this last month. Obviously inspired by Baldur’s Gate 3, I went a little further into Hiprax’s experience adapting to dracon culture after he loses his mother, Vrynnd. Having been raised as a sitaav elve (this world’s equivalent of a frost elf), he’s disconnected from the draconic origin of his life. So much so that he doesn’t know his father is a dragon at all and just believes him to be a dracon, the offspring of dragons.

That’s a lot of worldbuilding to contextualize an excerpt, but again, I’m nothing if not wordy.

Hiprax does not believe himself to show many draconic traits. There are, of course, the obvious: he loves shiny things, he loves great heights, he loves the wind against his scales. He wouldn’t count himself as having the same type of pride that other dracons do.

Then, I decided I would fully commit to editing my Q1 Short Stories™ and began my edit of “The Boy & The Hag Stone”. Since I’ve already edited “Plastic Fangs”, and because I spoke about “Hag Stone” more recently, I chose it to edit instead of my beloved vampires.

Banshee is a very special character to me. In the words of Laszlo Cravensworth:

“He’s my best friend, he’s my pal, he’s my homeboy, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese, my good time boy.”

Which is, of course, how I feel about all of my Weirdo Characters™, but especially Banshee. I gave Banshee some parts of myself: his wild, dark hair, his uncanny stare, his hatred of shoes. (I really fucking hate shoes.) To Rishi, I gave my love of run-on sentences and cup noodles.

Here’s my favorite tiny excerpt from his edit!

Banshee was a ghost, a lost soul, a feral child all grown up. He never left footprints; instead, asphodels grew wherever he walked. Every time he predicted rain, there was, and every time he predicted clear skies, there were.

I got very obsessed with Brutus (of Julius Caesar fame) for a brief period of time. So obsessed I wrote a poem and half of a short story about him. My Brutus obsession has resulted in poem before, but very rarely do I allow a poem to germinate into a short story.

This short story was pretty unique. I did it in the style of “The Cannon” by Kelly Link: a Q&A. My husband liked it only because of the “interesting form” and not so much for the content, because he is “not interested in that sort of thing” (i.e., writing about Roman politicians doing an interview in maybe-Purgatory.) I’ll give him points, though; the style is pretty unconventional.

Q: Did it hurt?

A: Does pulling a tooth hurt? Does drinking poison hurt? Of course it did. It hurt as though I was stabbing myself. His blood looked exactly like mine.

It’s not finished yet, but I think it’s more of a way to adventure into different forms than a way to tell an actual story. There’s some slappage there, though.

Then I worked on some blog posts, including a WIP intro and some character intros for Double-Trickery! This is one of my favorite books to write for. Penny and Mavuto’s dynamic is something pretty unique in my work. Every couple I write is some level of codependent, but learning necromancy just because you think your best friend (or the “love of your life”) is dead? Damn, that’s conviction.

That’s the wrap-up for now! In all, I’m quite pleased with all I’ve done as of late. It’s only been six days, and I’m already in the double digits when it comes to word count. Hell yeah!

Tag list: @jacqueswriteblrlibrary

#writing update #snippet #my writing #excerpts #magnus writes

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dootdootwriting · 2 years

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hihi can i request male reader x itto where reader is overwhelmed with all the work he has to do and ends up staying all night finishing and itto like tries to get him to take breaks but ends up forcing reader to take one bc reader won't stop working and is literally not taking care of himself :,)

(sorry college is beating my ass rn aah)

featuring: itto tw: stress, "babe" used as a pet name type: angst (?) to fluff, modern au pronouns used: he/him a/n: back to our regularly scheduled content i'm literally so sorry about whatever the hell that was. anyway this is REALLY CUTE anon ty hehe

content under the cut for length! (^人^)

ITTO made a point of not worrying about studying. In his own words, it defeated the purpose because "if i was going to remember what they taught me in class, i would have put it in my memory when they first told me!" This had gotten him into trouble with many an exam.

His philosophy when it comes to bigger projects, however, was surprisingly reasonable. Every time your boyfriend was assigned a project, he tore through it as fast as possible, so somehow, he never got buried with work.

Tonight, you were buried with work. You'd been trying to pace yourself for nearly the entire day, but with class on top of assignment on top of class on top of cup of coffee, you'd quickly become completely exhausted, lying face up on the floor. You stared at the fluorescent lights in the room you shared with Itto, which didn't deign to do anything other than flicker briefly at you in response. You covered your eyes with your arm, letting out a long sigh, when you heard the door to your dorm room open loudly.

"HEEEEEEY!! Guess who's here to help the best boyfriend in the whole wide world with his stupid boring college homework!!"

Itto barged in, grin evident on his face. Despite the colder weather, he was still only wearing his typical tank and cargo shorts. He sniffed, lifting up three plastic bags no doubt filled with goodies.

You reluctantly rolled over onto your stomach and pushed yourself off the floor, gazing at him tiredly. "What'd you get? Instant ramen again?"

"Obviously! And, also," Itto added, closing the door and taking things out of the bags, "i got hawaiian bread rolls, which should be interesting, three different flavors of ice cream, a bunch of crackers, energy drinks, instant coffee, and tylenol. For your headache."

"What?" you concentrated for a second. "Wait, you're right. How did you know I have a headache?"

"Come on, babe, look how scrunched up your eyebrows are. Give yourself a break, okay?" Itto frowned at you and ruffled your head, earning him a huff from you. "You're not gonna get anything done if you're this tired."

"I can't take a break though," you answered stubbornly, "I have about five things due tomorrow and it's already ten pm. If I don't finish this, it's game over for me."

"No, it's not. Listen, if you don't finish everything, it'll be okay. Just look how much stuff you have assigned to you! Nobody should have to do this much work, it's torture! If I had to do all that I just wouldn't."

"Right, which is why I can't take advice from you."

Itto stuck his tongue out at you and flicked your forehead. "Well, if you're not gonna see reason, I guess I'll just have to show you!"

"Huh?" you asked, but you didn't have a chance to add anything else, as Itto has already scooped you up in his arms and plopped you down on the couch in front of the TV. He grabbed a blanket from nearby and draped it around your shoulders. Once you were comfortably situated, he took your laptop and books and put them in the microwave.

"HEY! What the hell are you doing to my stuff!"

"You're going to sit here with me and take a break. If you say even one thing about wanting to work, I'm turning on the microwave."

"Itto! You'll break my computer!"

Itto thought about this for a moment, then reluctantly took your things out of the microwave. "Okay, right. Got it. Just don't try anything, okay? You're relaxing now. It's relaxing time."

You sighed, giving up. It's true that your professors had uploaded an unreasonable amount of work for you to finish. Maybe if you showed the proof to those whose work you hadn't finished yet, they'd understand... in any case, Itto was right. You were overworking yourself, and you needed a break.

You slumped over into the couch, allowing yourself to sink into the cushions. Itto returned from where he'd been putting the food in the fridge earlier, two bowls of ice cream in hand and a pringles tube stuffed into his giant pockets.

"Here," he offered, handing you one of the bowls. "I know I'm not super regular-smart, but I am super you-smart, and I know that right now this is the best thing for you." You took the bowl, nodding, and sunk back into the couch. Itto sat down heavily next to you, splaying out his limbs and putting one arm around you. It was a miracle he didn't spill his ice cream all over his lap.

"Feeling better yet?" he asked, placing a surprisingly gentle kiss on your forehead and slowly squishing you closer to him. It was impossible not to feel better with how close to you he was and how far he'd gone to cheer you up.

"Yeah, I am," you said, giving him a soft, tired smile.

"Good," Itto said, grabbing the TV remote, "now, what do you want to watch? Anything's fine by me, as long as you're here."

#genshin x reader #itto x reader #genshin impact #itto #arataki itto #itto written #m!reader #itto x m!reader

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letmeoutofthebasementt · 8 minutes

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I did a reading about the public’s reaction to Ateez’s relationship to their future spouse. Knetz vs international fans. Let me tell you it was so funny. For knetz the inability to accept a relationship was so consistent in the tarot I couldn’t stop laughing. Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yeosang especially. They were like the biggest traitors according to the tarot

I think because hongjoong is very possessive of atiny and jealous as his idol persona the Knetz feel even more betrayed. Seonghwa is also quite romantic with the fans and gives a lot of fans service so they feel entitled to him as well. For Yeosang I got the vibe from the tarot that his FS might be from a country or something that Korea has beef with. I’ve seen other readers talk about this and I feel it too. Yeosang’s FS seems to be beautiful and loving (empress energy). The boys will like her and the international fans mostly want Yeosang’s happiness but it’s going to be difficult for him with Korean fans.

As for San, Yunho and Mingi I was really intrigued. San’s FS is obviously loved by most. The Knetz and international fans seem to agree with this. They will be like THE couple. However Mingi’s FS seems to have a big impact as well. If she truly is black I see that being a big thing. The Knetz aren’t going to want to acknowledge it or truly understand it. Because it’s interracial I see them not treating it the same as usual idol couples. It’s represented with like Mingi as a king of swords with a queen of wands. They don’t get how people from 2 different worlds could make it work(I personally think it’s a little dramatic. And I don’t see them reacting this way with the other FS’s who might be foreigners but that’s just me). I do see them getting with it in time with the 9 of wands and ace of cups. It just takes time :( On the international side they feel invested in the relationship and want to be positive about it. It’s like Mingi worked so hard to get to this point (the hiatus, dealing with his mental health, making music he loves that reflects him, learning English even though he finds it difficult) with the 9 of pentacles and queen of cups they just want the couple to enjoy their happiness. This relationship takes a lot of work to achieve and is important for the representation but also Yunho (didn’t forget about him hehe). Here is why. With the perspective that Yunho and Mingi are besties who married besties, Mingi’s FS may be the catalyst for their meeting. I think Yunho is definitely going to take more time to find the one simply because he has other priorities and may not be content with his life the way it is yet. When he meets his FS he won’t even be focused on that. His FS gives off that same practical vibe tho she is more spontaneous. She probably will also be getting her ducks in a row before they meet. I easily see her being successful in her own merit which is exactly the type of person Yunho will want.

Yunho and Wooyoung had a similar impression from the Knetz. They both keep things private and under lock and key. I can almost see them being annoyed and pouty like “you guys don’t tell us anything” (I don’t blame them. “Fans” can be so cruel) I see Yunho and San shielding their loved ones from the internet. I see Wooyoung just straight up hiding everything about his relationship. It’s like radio silence 😂 Nothing for a while and then all of sudden he’s married. More silence then oop we have 4 kids. He does not care lmaooo. I’m getting more from Mingi and his FS so I think they can’t hide as easily. Both will be in the public eye. They will try to keep as much as they can private but the public has more access. He will defend her no matter what tho and vice versa. They can handle it after all the shit they have been through.

I personally have difficulty getting a read on Jongho but I think he might fall in another significant relationship before he finds the one and I think the public will like them. I get stuff like the lovers and the 10 of cups which is nice. I also feel like they are private? Especially the FS I don’t think she f*cks with attention like that. Very private. The couple that shows up to the function, brings some food, says hi and leaves. Wooyoung and his FS have that vibe too lol

Anyway that was my long spiel. Everyone seems chill. Don’t mind my spelling mistakes lol This is obviously just for fun and definitely not hard facts

-❤️

I wouldn’t be surprised if the entirety of the group pulled Chens. But yeah, I loved reading this so much! Sorry I don’t have much commentary but I agree a lot with it

#❤️ anon

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ganyuslily · 2 years

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THE SMALL WORLD OF YOU AND ME.

xiao hates change; and so obviously, he should hate you. but he doesn’t.

xiao/gender neutral reader

modern!au. college!au. fluff.

note: mayhaps i have projected onto him in this mb yall LMAO

in the beginning, it was just xiao.

well, perhaps that’s kind of a lie — it was not just xiao, not really. there was venti; the guy that just one day showed up in his dorm muttering something about being his “new and super cool and awesome roommate”. there was also ganyu; his friend from childhood that popped up from time to time with food and to chat — but she was never there for too long, far too busy in her own little world.

there were, of course, many other people. there was albedo; the smart guy sitting next to him in almost all of his lectures. there was hu tao; the girl that for some reason decided to pester him on his lunch break and insist on eating next to him every single day. there was also zhongli; the professor that xiao definitely had some kind of weird emotional attachment to — one that he was going to ignore. (for now, at least.)

but those people were not in the small world he created. they never were. no one ever was.

xiao was quite content with the little life he has created for himself. sure, it might’ve been a little bit mundane and a little bit boring for anyone else — but it was his. it was his own and no one else’s.

xiao also despised change. he despised when venti would come too early or too late for his habits, he despised when ganyu wouldn’t swing around twice a week to his place to say “hi”. he despised when albedo was not in the chair next to him during the lectures and he even despised when hu tao wouldn’t show up on the bench they usually sat on on their lunch break.

and because he hated change so much — to the point where it made his skin crawl and made him want to hide in his room and never come out, — he stopped talking to venti for good two weeks when he told him suddenly he needs to move out. something about him not actually earning a place in the dorms since he wasn’t actually a student? xiao did not catch what the whole deal was, but he definitely did catch onto the fact his quite eccentric roommate (that he grew fond of, even referring to him as a “friend” — but you didn’t hear it from him!) was going to leave soon. soon meaning the next day. and that in his place, there would be someone new.

someone he didn’t know.

he hated change.

you moved in quickly. not giving him any time to adjust, any time to accept what was happening around him, any time to even understand that there was a whole new person living with him. the next thing he knew, your things were all over the place and you were standing in the shared kitchen with a cup of some hot liquid in hand, smiling at him in excitement, even though it was 6:30 in the morning and he was barely lucid. coffee?, you asked and he agreed. (he never saw someone get so happy at a simple yes.)

and even though he hated change, you were one that he seemed to welcome. slowly. reluctantly. (but he did welcome it.)

you were fast; fast in your speech, fast on your feet, fast when it came to making groceries and telling him stories. you were fast in making yourself a place in his heart. tucked away, hidden and easy to miss — but it was there. you were stomping into his little world with your boots and your whole luggage and he could say nothing. nothing, because perhaps — but just and only perhaps!, — you have grown on him. you and the changes you brought.

the change in the way how and when he used to make his coffee, the change in the way of buying food every week, the change in him putting away his clothes because you taught him a new method. the change in the way he used to type and the change in the way he used to smile. change, change, change. it was scary. scary, yet nice in a weird way.

in the end, it was him and you.

you and him. him and you.

it was a small world of you and him; and even though he still despised change, he had to admit that this time, perhaps it wasn’t so bad.

#xiao x gender neutral reader #xiao x you #xiao x reader #xiao fluff #genshin xiao #xiao genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #idolteyvat #ganyuslily.writes

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frogtanii · 3 years

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a roar of competitive cheers burst from your hospital room, the boys all piled up on your bed playing in a smash tournament on bokuto’s switch. it was rather endearing to watch the good and grown men argue about which princess was a better competitor (rosalina, obviously, despite not being an actual princess) and, in sakusa’s case, pouting like a sore loser when his favorite — daisy — wasn’t even regarded as a real threat.

he absolutely dominated the next round in retaliation, to the group’s chagrin.

you eventually decided to take a break, the stuffiness and loudness of the room getting to you. the boys, while giving you a variety of concerned looks, respected your decision, leaving you to wander out of your space, clad in the semi revealing hospital gown and fuzzy yellow socks.

it was less than convenient to trudge around with your iv attached to your arm but you didn’t mind. the struggle kept your mind off of what you dubbed as The Incident™, weird as it sounded.

for some reason, the smallest things helped keep you occupied, thanks to your vigilance. your call with doctor yamada definitely helped, his sarcastic, biting nature criticizing some random kdrama had you cackling in your seat until your throat was (even more) sore.

at first, you felt a bit awkward calling him when you physically couldn’t speak but he took it in stride, filling up the silence with his commentary that was much, much appreciated.

actually, all the boys had been surprisingly good about your predicament. it took a moment for bokuto and suga to get used to your lack of responses but they eventually grew accustomed to it and even relished your minuscule reactions to one of their jokes or funny quips.

you were actually, finally, enjoying your time with your housemates and it felt good.

well, not all of your housemates. daichi was a given. you’d seen very little of him after the dinner, only laying eyes on him when he visited your hospital bed when he thought you were sleeping. the look of remorse and shame written all over his face was burned into your memory and you made a mental note to find a way to have a conversation with him in an attempt to clear the air.

while daichi’s situation at least made sense, kenma’s did not. you missed him deeply, and you had no idea what to do or say to fix what had been broken. apparently, both kuroo and sakusa had attempted to reach out, but they were quickly shut down. you could tell kuroo was more hurt than he let on, occasionally catching the tail-end of intense conversation between him and omi, but they were both quick to slap on a smile and change the subject as not to worry you when you made your presence known.

you appreciated their concern, you did, but kenma was your friend too and you desperately wanted to know what you could do to help.

a deep sigh left your lips, the action only causing a slight twinge in your throat as you meandered through the cold halls. your brain started to hurt as you thought more and more about it, stress climbing up your spine and burrowing at the base of your skull.

annoying, you thought, your eye twitching in irritation. headaches sucked mad ass and you were not looking forward to the hell of the one that was building up as you walked.

turning down another hallway, you abruptly stopped, your iv screeching to halt interrupting the hushed conversation that a certain someone was having at the far end of the corridor.

kenma!

kenma twisted towards you, his feline eyes widening in surprise as he whispered a hushed goodbye to whoever he was speaking to before shoving his phone into his pocket and staring at you in shock, pain, and most prominently,

guilt.

pure, unadulterated guilt permeated from all over him, the stench coming off of him in waves. you nearly flinched at the sight of him, the deep circles under his eyes practically broadcasting his struggle to the whole world.

your name dropped from his lips in a low whisper, his immediate reaction afterwards leading you to believe he hadn’t meant to say it aloud at all.

you chanced a step forward at his utterance, and then another and another until you were face to face with each other. you felt his eyes searching yours but you made sure to keep your face neutral if not for the blatant worry written all over it.

his plush bottom lip was pulled in between his teeth as his hands twitched by his sides as if he wasn’t exactly sure where to put them. you let out a soft breath at the sight, kind of hoping he would just give you a hug like it looked like he wanted to.

but, kenma held back, waiting for you to do something, to say something (not that you could) to absolve this horribly tense silence that the pair of you were now enshrouded in.

gently peeling your fingers from your iv stand, you lifted them to sign in the small space between your chests, in clear view of his observant gaze.

you recalled with fondness when a handful of the house members had decided to learn a bit of sign language, just in case someone was in a panic attack and became nonverbal. the impromptu learning session had been so much fun that the group had began regularly meeting to expand their sign language vocabulary and fluency until you all were at least semi fluent (in all the ways that mattered at least).

kenma was a member of that group and you’d throughly enjoyed his witty remarks throughout the lesson and his occasional cute little giggles that were liberally interspersed into conversation. that kenma was in such stark contrast to this kenma that it was almost jarring as he watched your hands with rapt attention, awaiting anything you had to say.

i missed you, you began slowly, not missing the way his eyes immediately became glassy and his hands tightened to fists by his sides.

“you shouldn’t,” he replied, his voice deep and gritty. “not after what i did.”

you cocked your head in confusion at his words. what he did? you had no idea what he was talking about but you were determined to get to the bottom of it if that was what was making him avoid you like this.

what did you do?

kenma’s jaw clenched, the guilt that had faded away for a moment, coming back full force. “i... i did this to you...” he motioned to the healing bruises on your neck and the iv stand still by your side.

now you were even more perplexed. he wasn’t the one who cornered you in the bathroom so what could he possibly be going on about? unprompted, your mind flashed back to that night, the moment where you were heading off to the bathroom, meeting kenma’s eyes for a second when you did.

oh.

was that what he was feeling so horribly about? that he saw you go into the bathroom? that was hardly news and nothing to be up in arms about unless he also saw meiko go in after you and...

double oh.

suddenly, all his behavior started making sense. kenma felt guilty because he believed he was somehow responsible for allowing this horrible thing to happen to you.

oh, honey, you signed quickly, driven to get your point across without him interrupting. you didn’t do this to me. meiko did.

kenma opened his mouth to protest but you didn’t let him, one of your hands coming up to cover his lips. he let out a muffled protest, his breath hot against your palm, eyes wide in bewilderment.

“listen to me kenma. you are not at fault here,” your voice screamed at you to stop speaking but not yet, not until you were done. “i know for a fact that if you knew what meiko was going to do, you wouldn’t have let me go.... you are good kenma, so good.”

his whole body shuddered at your words, all but collapsing into you, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you tightly.

if you faintly felt the shoulder of your hospital getting damp, you didn’t say anything, content to let him hold onto you and cry it out.

after a minute or two, he sniffled and pulled away from you, his face red and puffy but content. “you shouldn’t have talked idiot,” kenma chided gently, a soft smile on his face.

you just gave him an apologetic shrug and a hastily signed “sorry” before waving him off to your hospital room, sending him a smile as he meandered off in that direction. you didn’t follow, figuring he and the boys needed some time alone to reconnect without your presence there.

taking a hold of your iv pole again, you continued on your way while staring out the window, watching the tiny birds fly by. unfortunately, your little birdwatching stint sent you careening into a hard body, your feet losing their grip on the slippery ground as you stumbled to the floor.

a quick glance up at the perpetrator had your apology dying in your throat. it was osamu, looking every bit as bewildered as you expected him to, a small jello cup in one hand and a spork in the other.

you couldn’t keep your scowl from off your face as you waved away his helpful arm, completely missing the flash of hurt that appeared across his smooth skin. “please, let me help ya,” he tried again, this time earning a physical slap on the arm, visibly recoiling at the contact.

“leave me the fuck alone osamu,” you growled before picking yourself back up and starting to stroll away but you quickly stopped in your tracks, turning your head to give him a menacing grin. “if you fuck with atsumu again, i swear on bokuto jr, i will castrate you and feed you your sorry, wrinkly ballsack on a silver platter.”

with that you were gone, head held high and a wide grin on your face as osamu watched, his heart flipping annoyingly in endearment. he breathed a deep sigh and slid to the floor of the hall before popping open his jello and taking a bite.

your reaction was well deserved but he couldn’t help praying and hoping that things would change between the two of you.

change for the better. change for good.

℗ poker face

change for the better

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - GOLLY GEE THIS WAS A LONG ONE BHT KENMA!!!!!! and samu >:( anYWAYS SLEEP IS CALLING MY NAME, LEMME KNOW WHAT U THINK <3333 don’t forget to feed me :3 also pls kenma’s secret not so secret praise thing :00

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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mochikeiji · 3 years

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Looking Like U Got Me

Request: "Prompt no. 56 and 55 for Gojo ＼(^o^)／"

55. "You look like my husband/wife"

56. "Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster"

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x Reader

↠ Warning: none! Simply fluff

↬ Word Count: 1.7k

↠ a/n: i accidentally mixed up prompts 55 and 57 ;-; but still hoping this turns out good!!

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event!

All he wanted was to wake up in bed, next to you— who would cuddle deeper in his arms even in slumber so he'd smother you with his kisses and tighten his hold around you and drift back to sleep longer, finally free of responsibilities for once and enjoy quality time with his only favorite person. But instead he wakes up with a groan passing through his lips, supporting his back side with his hand while shuffling to his side in a different position as the light sun rays shun through the window blinds, softly fanning his eye and forehead.

Gojo chuckles a bit before wincing. His lower back so tensed that he feels himself get older by the day. Pouting at the empty space next to him, he palms the cold sheet in wonder of where you are. Up so early in the morning when you could've just stayed in for him. How annoying. His eyes shut for moment when the scent coming from outside the room intruded his senses. Ah, you must be cooking breakfast. How sweet of you.

Thank goodness it wasn't another batch of dried crackers or cup of noodles that'll enter his mouth. He was never one to cook meals when he was on solo or when you weren't around. The very thought of not only the meal was awaiting for him outside, but also you excites him that it made him feel tingly inside. Call it dramatic, yeah, but it's not every day someone gets to wake up and immediately feel this full of love in the morning. You were the only and last love he's ever wanted to have in this world. It was so surreal even to him.

Sighing before pushing himself up, Gojo yawns out the remains of drowsiness in his system and stands. He didn't bother wearing a shirt since last night, claiming that he misses how his body rubs off yours in both comforting and suggestive ways. Plus it was just you and him home, he'd rather walk naked than wear the usual long sleeved uniform on a warm day.

The scent of coffee got stronger as he closes in his journey towards the kitchen. There was faint sizzling coming from the pan as you stood there in attendance. Stuck in your own little world, swaying to the sound of the radio playing, U got Me by Yung Heazy. It was one of the few songs that reminded you of Gojo back when you were both high schoolers. The exact song you remembered playing when you both hung out on a small cafe in Tokyo. Where he was so flustered, attempted to hide his blushes with his round glasses. The little things that reminded you of that memory never fails to make your heart race.

Of course Gojo knows this one as well. Because it was on that date as well he had call you, "his" after masking his embarrassment and from obviously checking you out every minute. How could he contain himself? He was a young man who was having trouble in the arts of love. Nevertheless he was glad to have grown up from those years. If his younger self could see him now, he'd be gagging at the sight of a softer version of his older self.

Snaking his arms around your torso carefully to avoid surprising you, he places his chin above your shoulder. Salivating at the sight of thick bacon in deep frying, shamelessly letting you know he was hungry from the sound of his stomach growling. "This is a nice way to greet me." you smile at the man behind you, who had his eyes closed in delight while rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat in need of attention. "Good morning to you as well, sweet cheeks." he says after pressing a kiss on your skin.

"You got up early." whining softly, his hair and nose tickling the side of your neck and shoulder, "I was hoping to stay longer y'know?" trailing his hands underneath the his shirt you were wearing, mapping out on all the skin he could squish and hold with his large palms. Noticeably pressing himself closer to your body, the much needed space gone but you weren't complaining. After all, this was Gojo, a man who knows no boundaries.

"I wanted to make breakfast for you. We haven't had one together since we're both busy." you say as you grabbed the nearby plate, turning off the stove as the now cooked meal sizzles softly from the pan before sliding down to the porcelain surface. In attempt to lick his lips at the now prepared food, his tongue grazes upon your skin, sending you to jolt a bit, hearing the joyous laughter from him as he places a kiss on the spot as an apology.

"W-why don't you go sit down, there's rice bowls and cooked eggs prepared already." stammering, you quickly excused yourself away from his embrace to clean out the mess from the counter. Gojo sighs out the adoration but obliges to your command. Not long after you had finally settled down in front of him. Seeing him in all smiles as he scarfs down on his food made you smile as well. Thank goodness his blindfold was off, they looked adorable twinkling in happiness.

This felt nice. To have an opportunity to be a normal couple once again. So many times you could only daydream of scenarios like this. He could say the same as now that you were present on the usual spot he'd come home to empty. Often dozing off during meetings thinking of where you were or how you were, the multiple times Megumi has fed up with his whining about how he never gets to see or have more time with you. Nobara even pointed out a fact saying, "You act as if you're both married." and Yuuji, being the happy child of the three had said something that always ponder in his mind, "Why don't you marry each other yet, sensei?"

It was a statement he's been considering for a long time. Marriage. Of course Gojo wanted to marry you after years of torment love. To have his precious students say that you both already looked as if you were married got him all heart racing, and very very happy. He's had vivid images of a life with you. Not far from what it is today, but imagine. Unlimited happiness after so long of fearing it. Perhaps maybe even tiny legs running around, giving him such big love as his grows for the family he's craved, watching you smile beside the doorway and calling them in for a meal.

If marrying you means he can have that every day, then the hell with it.

"You look like my wife."

The spoon drop echoes. Slowly his face erupted into a faint blush while staring back at your widened eyes and opened mouth. "What?" gulping down the stuck food in your throat, Gojo bites his lips watching you maintain your composure. So cute. "Y-you know you say funny stuff when you're out of it. Maybe some daifuku would help? Yeah! Wait a sec." quickly getting up from your seat and rummaging in your fridge, you breathed out the heavy puff of air from your lungs.

He did not just say that so directly towards you. Maybe you were dreaming? You wouldn't be if your heart wasn't practically being forced out. Gojo is always fun and games, right? He doesn't mean that.

Sad to think of it that way.

"Ow!" thumping your head above the fridge as you grabbed some of the take outs of Daifuku you got yesterday, closing the fridge back before returning shortly to Gojo, who seemed as out of it as you were. "You did say your brain functions best when you eat sweets. Luckily for you I bought these yesterday. That's why I cooked earlier now because I wanted to try it out with you!"

Gojo can't tell if he wants to be offended at the fact that you think he was joking or just now, cover his half of his face to hide his laughter and igniting squeals. God he wished he had his phone right now, the moment was just so priceless and precious as you were.

"...ter"

Muffles from behind his hand was heard. Tilting your head to the side, trying to process what he said but no avail. "What was that?" you moved a little closer next to him, tapping his hand away almost eagerly. When he does, you spot that knowing smile present on his lips and the uncharacteristic blush still painted on his cheeks.

"Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster, honey."

You've gotten more shy when his hand held yours in the most loving way while drawing patterns. Searching through his eyes if he was playing around, but you were met with ones you know of when they were full of sincerity. "I-i. You know, they were so cheap anyways and I figured you'd want them." he snorts before leaning his head on your arm and laughs hysterically. It was painfully obvious that you were in state of shock that you couldn't even process his words.

Up until now the effect he has on you was still there like before.

"Sweetie." he turns his body away from the table to face you, pulling you so that you were standing in between his legs looking down shyly on the floor. "I'm serious." his fingers reached for your chin to pull your head up to meet his features. His other hand still holding your smaller one; index finger tracing your ring finger in circular motions as if he was creating a make believe ring.

He should thank himself for falling in love and be trusting once again.

Because now, staring back at your eyes filled with the same amount of emotions as his. Reciprocating the exact thing he was feeling. Waking up just to start the day already wanting him to be there. Knowing all the littlest things he's shared. Hearing the erratic sound of both of your heart beats.

He knew he's made the right choice.

"You really do look like my wife. My future."

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