#really hope there's something in act 3 that shows he cares and is sorry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoonieyun · 4 months ago

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this is where it ends ⋆˙⟡♡

days of dodging your boyfriend after your fight finally lead you to the answer you've been looking for (read part one here) heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon genre: aaaaangsttttt!!! angst!! heartbreak.. OOF warnings: toxic relationship, bad coping mechanisms, profanity, mentions of drinking as an addiction, gaslighting, arguing, 18+

hoonieyun notes: WHEW... lowkey was like.. damn this shit is TOO angsty so sorry in advance but im obsessed with angst lately and watching xo kitty did not help because that show was a rollercoaster LMAO anyways i hope you guys enjoy this sad piece of work because i have more coming with my vday anthology and exes reunited series plus! i've just announced my 1k follower special!

𐐪♡𐑂 @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @heartheejake @cloud-lyy @heeweenie @jakesimfromstatefarm @lovelymelon @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@chvconn3 @heeheeyeoiizz01 @pjselee @malloryaloisia @alienqbrain @jooniesbears-blog @haeeeeefer @firstclassjaylee

heeseung ⋆˚ʚɞ

it had been 3 days since you left heeseung standing in your apartment, dumbfounded and unsure of where you were. you really had hoped he would run after you that night but he didn’t and that seemed to put the nail in the coffin for you.

were you ready to throw away your relationship all because of this?

was it worth it to lose the person you love?

you had pondered on so many questions since that night and each question felt like you were guilt tripping yourself into thinking that your own feelings weren’t valid, like you were trying to convince yourself that you were overreacting and that heeseung was right.

why were you being so annoying?

but these questions only led to more questions instead of answers.

were you being annoying or were you just tired of not being heard?

if you hadn’t been the one to constantly ask him to clean up after himself would he have done it on his own?

why were you trying to come up with reasons to talk yourself back into his arms when you truly knew deep down the answer you were looking for…

you just weren’t ready to come to terms with it.

so here you were, hurriedly packing what you could before heeseung could come home. and just to your luck, he had arrived much earlier than you anticipated. “yn?” heeseungs says, shock painted across his face as he sees you standing in the hallway with a box of your things.

“wh- what are you doing?” he asks, eyes falling on the box in your hands.

both of you knew the answer to that.

“i think- i can’t do this anymore, hee…

i did a lot of thinking these past fews days and everything i thought of i found myself trying to make excuses for you. trying to figure out why i was acting this way and why i was going out of my way to make it seem like i was the one causing these issues and stressing myself out and then i realized…

why was i trying to compromise my own happiness and well being for someone who didn’t care about me?

for someone who couldn’t simply understand where i was coming from and couldn’t even listen to me when all i would ask for was something so easy as to clean up after yourself.

heeseung, you’re grown and so am i and i’m done acting like your words and actions don’t hurt solely for the fact that i don’t want to lose you.

we’re over.” your eyes had tears pooling in them but you refused to let them fall in front of heeseung.

“what?” heeseung asks, slipping his shoes off and running over to you in an attempt to stop you, reaching for the box but you move out of the way before he can.

“yn.. can we please talk about this? don’t jump to conclusions just because you’re hurt. this isn’t what you want, what about us?

are you willing to throw us away because of some petty fight?” and that’s when you knew that you and heeseung weren’t on the same page… at all.

“that’s what you have to say?” and at this point you had lost the fight to stop the tears from falling.

“you haven’t even apologized? and now you’re here trying to gaslight me into thinking that what i’m feeling is just the result of a petty fight?

hee, you never listen to me. you dismissed my feelings and all i asked was you clean up our bedroom because i was tired. i’m sorry but if that was such a hard task then i don’t know what to tell you.

i’m not jumping to conclusions. heeseung, we’re done.” you say, pushing passed him so you could leave and move on. start new and heal from this pain.

“really? you’re just going to walk away?” heeseung asks, still refusing to take accountability for his actions.

“i’m not walking away… you pushed me away.”

“bye, heeseung.”

jongseong ⋆˚ʚɞ

jay hadn’t been able to pick up a bottle of alcohol since that night… 5 months ago. he hadn’t realized he developed a bad habit of drinking all because he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his loving girlfriend, the one who took care of him, who loved him, who fought for him to make things right, was slowly becoming someone he didn’t love anymore.

so why was it that now that you two were broken up, he wants nothing more to get back together with you?

he thought about the day you finally came back. after you ran out in the middle of the night jay didn’t see you for a whole week and by the end of that week, you would be gone for good.

“is this what you really want?” jay had asked you right before you left.

“its not what i want… but it doesn’t seem like what i want would be something that could ever happen if i stayed with you.

you hurt me, jay. all i ever did was care for you and love you and it made me realize i hadn’t felt care or love from you for a while now.

i truly hope that you get help for your drinking problem but i’m sorry i’m not going to be the one to fix it for you.” and with that you were gone. out of jay’s life and although you had said that you weren’t going to be the one to fix his drinking problem, in a lot of ways; you did fix it.

he hadn’t drank since that night and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t drink ever again and 5 months after, he’s kept that promise.

jay wished that he did keep his promise to you.

when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he had promised to hold your heart close to his and to never break it. only to find himself distancing his heart from yours and eventually shattering it into millions of pieces when you got into a fight that night.

but he was now forced to face all of this all over again as you stood in front of him, mirroring the same shocked face he had as the two of you run into each other at a mutual friends party.

you hadn’t seen jay since that night and although your heart ached for him, you had to choose yourself. you couldn’t stand being with someone who saw you as overbearing when all you did was care for and love them.

you truly had been worried about jay ever since his drinking habits had gone worse and maybe you could’ve gone about it a better way and not made him feel attacked for his actions but he didn’t have the same consideration for you so why should you do the same… right?

“h-hi.. yn. you look good.” jay stutters.

“you do too, um.. i–” you begin to say but he cuts you off. “look, i know we didn’t end on the right foot and these past five months have been hard for me so i could only imagine how hard they’ve been on you.

i wasn’t right to treat you that way and i’m sorry i’m only realizing it now. i miss you so much and i spend countless nights thinking about you. reminiscing on the good times and how i let myself ruin all of it.

i’m sorry, yn.” it all comes out like word vomit and quite frankly, you weren’t prepared to hear any of it. you also hadn’t expected him to have this much of grasp on your relationship five months after, but it was all too late.

“i’m sorry too, jay– but i can’t keep doing this. i think you need to move on. i know i will…” you muttered.

“for what it’s worth… you did help me… i’m five months sober.” he confesses and you give him a tight lipped smile.

“take care of yourself, ok?” you say before turning around to leave and although jay wished that he could’ve said all of this five months sooner in hopes that it would’ve fixed your relationship, he respects your wishes and just hopes that the next guy who comes around would love you the way you deserved to be loved.

jaeyun ⋆˚ʚɞ

in the time you’ve dated jake or quite frankly, anyone, they had never raised their voice and spoke to you in that way. jake seemed so angry and upset that it scared you. you knew that jake would never hurt you but his words pierced your heart in ways that caused you pain you had never felt before, especially from someone you love and was supposed to love you.

it always hurts more when it comes from someone you love right?

you had come home the next day and found jake sleeping on the couch, hugging the plushy that he often said looked like you.

you’d be lying if you said that seeing him like this didn’t make your heart hurt… but it did.

it seemed like jake had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for you but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

the feeling of being unwanted, unloved, undesirable, and not enough for someone who is supposed to love you.

but if jake had loved you he wouldn’t have raised his voice at you.. let alone speak to you in that tone and used language that was meant to hurt someone.

“yn? is that you?” he says, stretching on the couch and rubbing his eyes, causing you to snap out of it. you quickly wipe away the tears that had miraculously appeared. “um, yeah. i just came to grab some things. you can go back to sleeping..” you explained as you made your way to your shared bedroom.

“baby? can we talk?” jake says, peering into the room as he sees you packing your things inside of duffel bag. “wait- what are you packing? are you leaving? baby, please don’t do this, can we talk this out?” he was now on his knees in front of you, clutching onto your sweater while he begged.

“jake, get up.” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“its just for a few days, i need time to myself- i need to think, ok?” you said and even now, even when you’re still hurting because of him from the night before, you were here trying to comfort him.

jake stands up with a sniffle and he attempts to link your hands together but you pull away to continue packing your bag. “when are we going to talk about this? i love you, i don’t want you to leave… please stay.” he continues to beg and although its working, you needed to stay strong.

“if you loved me you wouldn’t have spoken to me like that. people who love each other don’t speak to people they love that way.

jake, you hurt me… and i don’t know what i did to deserve that treatment but i just wanted help. i spent all day running errands despite feeling like shit because of my period and you dismissed my feelings like it was nothing.

that blanket meant so much to me, you knew that it was from my late grandmother yet you tossed it aside for your own accord because you didn’t have the same care for me and the things i love the way i do for you.” you said with a huff as you stuffed the last of your things into the bag.

“when will you come back?” was all jake asked and all you could muster up was a shrug, because you weren’t entirely sure when you would be back.

needless to say, a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks turned into a few months and at some point you found yourself not having the need to come back.

you wished you could get the closure you wanted from jake and you were sure he also wanted that, but walking away was something you needed to do. even if it was just one instance where jake spoke to you that way, it was enough for you to leave because you weren’t going to allow yourself to be with someone who found it in themselves to speak that way to someone they supposedly loved.

not then, not now, and not ever.

sunghoon ⋆˚ʚɞ

sunghoon hadn’t known what he was doing, it was like his body was moving before his brain could think because he was running back inside and grabbing his car keys to drive after you.

he wasn’t sure where you were headed off to but he had guessed that you were most likely going to stay with your mom. you were always close with your mom and she often was the person you went to when you were having troubles if you didn’t go to sunghoon.

sunghoon knew he fucked up and he shouldn’t have treated you that way let alone let some strangers treat you that way. he didn’t know what let him get to the point where he was allowing these men to speak about you, the girl that he loved, in a way that made you feel small. demeaning and degrading you in a way that he hadn’t realized and even if he did, he chose to look away instead of defend you all because he was filled with the greed of wanting this promotion.

was it even worth it anymore if it meant losing you?

sunghoon was speeding at this point and although you hadn’t left much before he had went to follow you, there was no one else in the streets as he sped through to catch up to you.

in a short amount of time, he’s turning into the street that your mom lives on and sure enough, he sees you just about to walk up to the front door. he hapazardly parks the car on the side of the street and stumbles out of his car to get to you.

“yn, please. wait, lets talk about this!” he says and you’re startled at sunghoon suddenly appearing and you wipe the tears from your face and blink a few times to make sure he was actually there.

“hoon? what are you doing here?” you ask, stepping down the small stairway that led to your mom’s home. “i couldn’t just let you leave like that, we need to talk-

look i’m sorry for the way i treated you and even more sorry that i let them treat you that way. i love you so much and i couldn’t imagine the amount of hurt i caused you for making it seem like i was okay with letting them say those things about you all because i wanted that promotion so damn bad.

i was selfish and greedy but those are the things that make me want you more. i don’t want you to leave and walk away from me because i am selfish and greedy and i want you all to myself.

i’m sorry that i didn’t defend you and i made you feel small…” he says and at this point sunghoon is crying. his voice breaks with every other word and you truly hadn’t seen sunghoon in this much distress, ever.

you didn’t know how to respond but the longer you looked into sunghoon’s bloodshot eyes, the more confused you became.

you could tell sunghoon was sincere but you didn’t think this was something that could be fixed right then and there. your sensitivity was always something you struggled with and sunghoon knew that yet he brushed off your feelings like it was nothing.

“you shouldn’t have driven out all this way…

because although i appreciate your apology i don’t know that i’m in the right place to accept it or to forgive you.

sunghoon you hurt me and you let others hurt me.

i’m selfish too, i want you all to myself too and i wouldn’t have stayed so long if i didn’t love you and want to be with you… but-

i don’t know if i can be with someone that doesn’t see me in the way i deserve.

and i certainly know i don’t deserve any of that.” both of your attention is drawn to the sound of the front door as it opens, revealing your mother in her nightwear and arms crossed; a displeased expression on her face.

“i’ll reach out to you when i’m ready.” you say and without another word you’re retreating into your mom’s home, hiding away from sunghoon and preparing yourself to have to face the inevitable one day.

sunghoon on the other hand, drags himself to his car, head hanging low as he has to come to terms that his own selfishness and greed for the one he loved was also what caused him to lose the love of his life.

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

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weneeya · 1 year ago

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Can I request Sakusa or Atsumu accidentally revealing they have an s/o during an interview or something.

Like they’ve been in a relationship for quite a while, but both of them want to keep things private. But during an interview the question leads to a slip-up where they reveal they have an s/o. And they feel really bad for that, but in the end their s/o isn’t really mad about it

secret revealed m.list | rules

pairing. msby x reader

characters. atsumu, sakusa, hinata, bokuto

note. omg thank you for your request i love the idea so much!! as i really wanted to do both sakusa and atsumu, i decided to do it with the msby quatuor, hope you don't mind <3 please don't hesitate to request!

Atsumu

If it would have been him alone, Atsumu would never have you hidden from the cameras. Not that he wanted you to be known by everyone especially ; but he was a proud man and he wanted to show you off to the world. You were amazing and he loved absolutely everything about you. But you wanted to keep it low, so he respected this. Doing anything that would make you uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted ever.

It was a simple interview, nothing different from the usual. He was used to their questions, especially those about his private life. Atsmu was good at lying so acting like you didn’t exist was not something so difficult for him ; even if he hated it. He was sitting next to one of his teammates, when he glanced at the backstages, thinking about his answer.

And what he saw ruined every plan he had in mind. He saw you there, waiting for him like you did it from time to time. But what was weird was that you were generally waiting outside to avoid the questions. Except that today, you were inside, and this guy from the sound was clearly hitting on you. Atsumu trusted you, obviously, but it still made him react almost right now.

He turned his head to look at the journalist, and a bitter smile appeared on his lips. “I have a girlfriend, yeah. She’s right here yer know, waiting for me.” He said before glancing back at you, waving at little. It caught you off guard, and you looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes. The poor guy who was trying something previously felt terribly stupid, and he quickly moved away from you, understanding the message.

After the interview, you were walking outside, arms crossed and not answering the poor Atsumu who was almost begging you to look at him. “I’m sorry, please!” He was almost falling on your back, trying to force you to acknowledge his presence. You glanced at him and he had this adorable pout over his lips. You rolled your eyes, before a sigh left your lips.

“You’re an idiot,” you started, and a smirk appeared on his face at the sound of your voice. “Yer idiot.” He left a kiss on your cheek and you couldn’t restrain the smile that got on the corner of your lips. Surely he was your idiot, yes.

Sakusa

Sakusa Kiyoomi was a discrete man, especially when it came to his private life. He didn’t like to talk about himself in general, but when it came to you, the one he loved, it was even worse. He knew how people could be when they were a fan of someone, and seeing you hurt because of this was the last thing he wanted. So after talking about it together, you decided to not announce anything officially and to be careful.

He was supposed to spend today with you but there was a sudden change of schedule and he had to go to an interview. Not only was he annoyed because he hated interviews, but even more because he had to cancel his peaceful day with you. He sat there, and everyone could understand that Sakusa was in a bad mood.

The interview got on, and the questions about his private life quickly arrived. Soon or later, the journalist was asking him about his lovelife more particularly. Even if Sakusa was usually so cautious about it, today was different because he couldn’t see you as much as he wanted, so the words slipped out of his mouth. “Yes, I have someone in my life. And if it wasn’t for this, I would have been with her right now.”

His tone was harsh and cold, and it quickly ended all the discussions about his private life. When he left the building, he simply got back to your place in no time. A long sigh left his lips when he finally got rid of his shoes, joining the kitchen where he saw the light. You turned around to look at him, and the smile he saw on your lips eased his heart so easily.

“I may have made a mistake,” he started, and it made your eyebrows rise slowly. He explained to you, and your only reaction was to chuckle gently. It caught him off guard, because he didn’t expect such a reaction. Weren’t you angry that he revealed your secret? You looked back at his eyes, smiling once again. “People needed to know one day, so it’s fine.”

Sakusa nodded slowly, leaving a soft kiss against your temple. You were right, you couldn’t keep it to yourself forever. He would have wanted to show you to the world differently, because you deserved better, but at least he wouldn’t have to hide anymore.

Hinata

You didn’t really care about being known as Hinata’s girlfriend, but the boy was less enthusiastic than you. Knowing that he met you during his time in Brazil, and knowing how his country was, he was just scared that people would say anything bad about you. Even if he was a real sunshine, he would never accept any bad remarks towards the person he loved the most in his entire life. This is why both of you decided to keep your relationship private.

But Hinata Shouyou was not really good at hiding things, especially not when you were making him so happy. It wasn’t his own interview ; actually it was Kageyama who was getting interviewed after their match against Hinata’s team. He was answering some questions with his usual awkwardness when a voice came from behind. It was Hinata yelling at him.

“Hey, Kageyama! Look, she’s here!” Hinata pointed at you before waving with a huge smile, and Kageyama simply offered you a little wave. Obviously, the interviewer asked about who you were, and Tobio was as much of an idiot as Hinata, so he simply told the truth. “It’s his girlfriend,” he said, and Hinata quickly arrived behind him, giggling like it was nothing. “Isn’t she pretty?”

You saw the camera turning in your direction, and you quickly ran away from it. You didn’t care, but you wanted to respect your boyfriend’s choice. Except that you wouldn’t run too far, Hinata grabbing you during your escape to hold you tight. This is how the whole volleyball world knew about Ninja Shouyou’s girlfriend.

“I thought you didn’t want people to know,” you said to him while you were walking to your apartment. He giggled like only he could do it, rubbing his nose against your cheek. “I don’t care, I’ll protect you from anything.” He looked back at you with his adorable smile, and you swore you heard your heart stopping in your chest. It wasn’t even surprising anymore with Hinata.

Bokuto

He wasn’t the type to be careful about a lot of things, except for people he loved the most. And you were probably the person he cared the most about in his whole life. You were able to keep up with his mood swings without being annoyed or anything, and he simply loved you so much. So he wanted to keep you all for himself, and as you weren’t a fan of celebrity, both of you came to the arrangement that you should keep your relationship private.

It wasn’t a problem, and it didn’t become one until this interview. It was at the end of a match they just won, and Bokuto was over excited by the victory. He was smiling like crazy, running everywhere ; it was almost too difficult to keep him in place for the interview. So when the question about someone sharing his life arrived, he didn’t think twice.

“I have my beautiful girlfriend waiting for me! She’s the best!” He almost yelled in the microphone, leaving everyone in shock, especially you behind your screen at home. His teammates had to calm him down before he let out too much about you, knowing well that it was supposed to be a secret. And after the interview, they had to remind Bokuto what he said.

When he entered your apartment, he was completely down. The victory was nothing next to the idea of him disappointing you like this. He slowly walked to the couch, sitting next to you, his head almost immediately falling on your lap. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

Your fingers slowly moved to his hair, trying to ease his heart a little. How could you blame him? You knew how he was, so you were expecting this to happen one day. You smiled softly, leaving a kiss against his cheek. “It’s okay Kou, it’s fine. I’m good,” you told him, and he quickly sat back. He looked at you, eyes wide and bright.

“Really? You’re not mad?” You chuckled slightly, before slowly shaking your head from left to right. “Of course not.” You reassure him, and in a second, Bokuto’s excitement came back like before. You would never get mad at him, and especially not for him loving you so much.

thank you!!

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lostinlovingrevery · 1 month ago

Note

Old man Logan where reader asks for permission for everything she does “can I touch myself?” While giving him head, for example

Permissions

Old man Logan X F! Reader

May I?

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long! so I hope you enjoy this!!!!! Def need old man logan being the boss of me...like. bad

Warning: SMUT <3, handjob/blowjob, f! masturbation, is this consider dom/sub? kinda orgasm denial/edging, uuuuh...not proofread....

He never had control over his life.

The beginning, to now. He was hurtling through chaos. Trapped in a vicious tornado that was life, barely able to grasp onto something long enough to keep him steady before the harsh winds pulled it away leaving him thrashing and fighting again.

After a century, he learned to live with it. Even grew to love the chaos at one point- he felt that he couldn't live without it, that it was meant for someone like him.

Even the points of his life where he may have appeared domestic, settled, hell- maybe living in something that was similar to peace; like with the X-men, was still a whirlwind for him. Every day was something new. Never a moment to breathe, a constant cycle of violence- but once again, he knew how to live with it. Never calling it quits, never waving that white flag, he pushes himself off the ground, spitting out blood and pus. That all you got, bub?

Now though, maybe he'd settle for a break.

His age was finally catching up to him, and then some.

It only meant more chaos. The adamantium that was melded to his bones, oh....40,50 years ago, was now wreaking havoc on his body. Causing him issues left and right, delayed healing factor, an annoying limp in his hip from when it rains- fuck he really was old- a hacking cough that made him feel like he was going to lose a lung.

It made him tired. Made him ready to throw in the towel.

Least, till you showed up.

The port in the storm. The first time he ever stopped- and took in the moment to breathe- to pause the cycle.

Sweet, pretty, eager thing you were. You looked at him like something desirable. Like he was the port in your storm. You looked up to him, trusted him.

You wanted nothing more than to please him.

He liked seeing you on your knees before him. The way you squirmed in subtle manners, pressing your thighs together, your hands clenching in frustration.

He could smell your arousal the second he walked in the door - you'd been eager for him to come home. Greeting him happily, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips- only for him to draw it out and make you more needy; then pull away as he walks over to the couch and plopping down with a dramatic sigh as the springs creaked from his weight. Acting as if you weren't standing there, full of hormones, the sweet scent of your longing for him filling the room and making his head cloudy.

It'd been a long day, no more different than every day though. Chauffeuring around assholes, parties and groups, all too drunk to even walk straight, too drunk to give decent tips either. Chaotic bunches. People he can't get to settle down as they yell and laugh, blaring music on their phones because he refuses to turn up the radio.

It's instinct for you at this point. You knew what he needed- to feel just even a grasp of control. It's what you needed too. Similar to Logan- you've lived a life of chaos, maybe not quite as...intense as Logan's was, but still there. Except for you, you wanted someone to take the reins. Someone to just...Take control. To feel like you'll be safe, taken care of- not having to worry about a thing. To be able to shut off your brain.

You liked giving in- letting him decide what to do. He gets his control, you get your comfort.

You followed him, while he pretended to be busy with getting comfortable- looking at him pleadingly. It's been a long day for you as well- and you wanted nothing more than to just...mindlessly suck him off.

"Lo?" You called his name and he finally looked at you. Biting your bottom lip, you scooted closer. "How was your day?"

"Usual." He says, eyeing you. "Yours, darling?" He reached over, tucking some hair behind your ear.

"Okay." You shrugged. Butterflies filled your stomach- even though you've been with Logan for a good amount of time now- he still makes you nervous. "Um..." You looked away shyly. "May I..." Your hand reached over to his thigh, fingers gently tracing downwards towards his zipper. "Play with you, for a bit?"

He smirked. "Well, ain't you polite?" He coos. He grabbed your hand, removing off him. "Don't recall you asking to touch first, though."

You frowned, a small pout on your lips.

"Don't give me that." He says.

"Sorry..."

He raised a brow and waited for you to continue. You looked back up at him. "May I touch you?"

"On your knees first darling."

You smiled, setting off the couch and moving to your knees between this spread legs. You looked up at him- giving him those doe- eyes you know he can't resist.

You waited for him to give you permission.

"Go on." He nods. "Take me out."

Your hands palmed his knees first, sliding up his thighs sensually until you reached his zipper. Slowly tugging it down, and undoing the button, you began to tug his pants down just enough to reach in and pull him out.

Only semi-erect, you spit in your hand, and grasped his base and looked up at him.

"Go ahead." He nods.

You started slow, beginning to pump your hand up and down his thick girth. Your spit being used as a lube- you watched his cock twitch in your hand as you reached to the base, before moving back up and fisting over his swollen head.

You felt your mouth watering as pre-cum beaded his tip. Your lips parted, unconsciously licking your lips as you became hypnotized with his cock as you stroked him.

He watched you with amusement- he loved watching you. The way you look at him like he's something...beautiful. He never thought he'd meet someone that would share that same passion he always wanted to share.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He could feel your desire, your lust- he knew what you were going to say.

"May I taste you?"

He let out a breath. "Go ahead sugar."

With his permission, you leaned forward- sticking your tongue out and dipping it into the slit of his cock. His heady taste, salty and warm- made your eyes roll back and a soft moan escape you. You gripped the base of him, lowering your tongue down and licking him from the bottom to the top like an ice cream cone.

His cock jumped in your hand at the action. You could hear his breathing pick up- heavy, attempting to keep himself together.

You continued licking him like he was a delicate treat, savoring the flavor of his skin and sweat as you stroked him simultaneously. Logan's head tipped back, feeling himself get closer and closer to a finish- but he wasn't ready for that yet.

"Slow down. It's not going anywhere." He tells you. It made you whine- You didn't want to slow down, you wanted to take him whole, down your throat, to have your tongue covered with his essence- something you would end up tasting for the rest of the night into the next day.

Yet you still obeyed. Your hand slowed, and you gave him small kitten licks instead.

Your thighs pressed together, an attempt to relieve the ache that was between your legs. Your panties were drenched from your arousal- a throbbing ache in your clit that you need relief from.

You adjusted yourself on your knees, spreading them apart so you could pressed yourself onto the floor- the pressure relieving some of the tension you felt down there.

Continuing to stroke him, you watched pre-cum continuously bead out of him, and you chewed on your inner cheek- resisting the urge to lap him up.

"Lo-" Your voice tittered on a whine. "I want- Can I suck you off?"

A small laugh escaped him- making you frown. You're not sure what's so funny about that.

"I look that good huh sweetheart?"

"Mmhm." You nodded.

"Go ahead." He purrs, his hand reached over to curl into your hair and pull you closer.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around him. Taking him deeper, you hollowed your cheeks, gagging slowly as he began to hit your throat- but you didn't stop.

Your tongue caressed the underside of his cock while your lips were flushed against his base and his salt-and-pepper hair that curled around his base tickled your nose.

A grunt escaped him, feeling you gag as your throat closed around the head of his cock- his hand tugged you back, pulling you off him completely until your mouth as hanging open, a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock.

"Fucking beautiful..." He mutters, before pulling you back down on him. You moaned, your eyes rolled back as you bobbed your head up and down his length, his hand that has ahold of you setting the pace.

You were unconsciously grinding against the floor- desperate for relief as you got him him. You took him down your throat again, choking on him and tears began to spill over your eyes from the pressure. You pulled yourself off of him and looking up at him pleadingly.

"Can I touch myself?" You asked breathlessly. Spit dribbling down your chin, your lips puffy and swollen.

He was half tempted to tell you no. To see you whine and squirm and beg- but you've been good.

"Do it baby." He says, his hand curling tighter into your hair. "Touch yourself for me."

You took his cock back into your mouth- as your hand climbed underneath the waist of your pants. Your fingers found your swollen clit- a soft whine escaping you as your fingers swirled fast and rough circles into your bud.

As much as he preferred to get you off himself- watching you do it while sucking him off? That was a different kind of power for him.

"Slow down." He orders. "Don't need to get yourself off so quickly darling. Enjoy it."

You whined with his cock in your mouth, and he tugged your hair hard. "Save it, or I'm telling you to stop."

You held back a cry- obliging as you slowed the pacing of your fingers, still working on sucking and savoring him.

A few minutes past- your orgasm never came- because Logan kept telling you to go faster, then slower- while controlling the pace of you sucking him off. It was almost scary how he knew how close you were to cumming every time- even when you tried to hide it. Afraid to ask him only to be denied again.

"Lo- Please." You gasped as you pulled off his cock. "May I cum? Please?"

He smirked, pushing you back down on him, all the way until his tip hit your throat again - your gag reflex was gone at this point.

"Go ahead darling-" He says, "Use both hands too."

A moan of relief escaped you. Your fingers worked tirelessly over your clit, as your free hand shoved your pants down your thighs so you could fit your other hand to your weeping hole.

Your cunt clenched around your fingers tight, as you began pumping them in and out of you. Moaning over his cock- Logans grip on you pulled you back and forth on his cock- allowing you to focus on getting yourself off while he fucked your mouth.

A cry escaped you as you came, your body trembling as you drenched your fingers with your arousal- pleasure racking through your body in waves.

Logan shoved his cock down your throat- a loud grunt escaping him as he spilled himself in ropes and coating your throat.

He pulled you off him, loud breathy pants escaping him as he tipped his head back. You stood up on shaky legs, and clambered onto his lap.

"Can I kiss you?" You asks, and he opened his eyes to look at you. Sweaty, spit and cum covered your lips and tears stained your cheeks. His hand reached to the back of your neck, pulling you closer,

"That's the one thing you don't have to ask for darling."

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #vans daydreams #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut

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xiepheer · 3 months ago

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HIHIII i loved your truth and deceit fic :33

could i pretty please request a shadow milk x clumsy reader :3?

The Master of Deceit and his clumsy one!

Shadow Milk cookie x Clumsy reader

Hey guys! Hope yall like this! Also feel free to ask requests! Any cookies I will do! Thank you so much for the support everyone!

First off, he doesn't expect his dearest lover to be clumsy!

So whenever you're in his dimensions, he would watch over you just incase you tripped and fall into an endless void.

Now having you clumsy is what he likes. He likes to protect you.

He would act like the hero when you almost fall in a void or endless river.

When you were hurt while you tripped, he would be desperate to help you and get you up.

"Pookie are you okay? Are you hurt? I'll bring help!" He says,desperate to help you.

He breathed a sigh of relief when you confirmed that you were fine and not hurt.

Now he would use you sometimes for his shows where you have to do carnival tricks and when you fall (which is definitely on the script), he saves you so the crowd applauds.

And of course he doesn't only use you, he loves you. He would depend on your answer if he asks if you want to be in the show.

Now since he deeply cares about you, he brings you everywhere with him.

No matter the situation, he knew he would be desperate without you if you hurt yourself in the process of being clumsy.

He would ask Black Sapphire Cookie to watch over you whenever he couldn't because Black Sapphire Cookie is who he really trusts you to be with.

He does trust Candy Apple cookie but he knows that she's gonna do something to you.

When he got sealed in the tree, he could only hope that Black Sapphire Cookie and Candy Apple cookie is taking care of you.

Now they do take care of you.

Candy Apple cookie just can't accept the fact that he cares about someone clumsy and fragile than her.

Now Black Sapphire Cookie would shake her jealous thoughts away, telling her to accept their fate or surely they will pay.

"Eugh!! What does Master Shadow Milk cookie see in that clumsy fragile cookie!" She huffed. "I did everything for Master Shadow Milk cookie but all he does is ignore me! I even put my best syrups on!"

She basically threw a tantrum on Black Sapphire Cookie while you were somewhere in the sphire. Hoping not to be clumsy and fall again.

"Cut it out! Master Shadow Milk cookie clearly cares for that cookie so accept it!" He said to her.

"And we can't do anything about it!" He said to her.

Now she DID eventually accept it but also feels jealousy time to time.

When Shadow Milk cookie gets realesed from the tree, the first thing he searches is You.

When he found you, he checks you up in case you have any physical bruises or scars.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he checked and you weren't hurt.

And now he brings you all the time, everywhere.

He brings you with him and make you watch him cause destruction.

Now you can't do anything about that. You know he's just ensuring your safety.

Now the reason why he brings you with him was because you are clumsy. Constantly after walking a bit, you would trip.

He would catch you of course and play as the prince in your "Save me!" Princess role.

He would ensure your clumsy butt doesn't get in trouble and would ensure that you're safe.

Hey everyone! I'm so sorry if this isn't for your liking, feel free to tell me which part you didn't like!

Also I encourage everyone to ask for requests! All cookies are involved!

🫶🫶

#beast cookies #cookie run fandom #cookie run kingdom #beast cookies x reader #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk crk #shadow milk x reader #candy apple cookie #candy apple crk #black sapphire crk #black sapphire cookie #x reader #crk #cr kingdom

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levandright · 7 months ago

Text

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

their favorite way to show their love for you is through — acts of serviceꜝꜝ

if you enjoyed reading this consider leaving a like or reblog ᐢ..ᐢ

pairing ⋆ ot7 enhypen x gn reader! ʬʬ content / warning(s) ⋆ fluff, est relationship, non-idol au ꕀ word count : 2.4k ʬʬ go back to the start?

ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : this is a long one! took a while to finish this cause i had to think long and hard about what to write >.> but this officially marks the end of the wyll series <3 hope reading this series made you feel better and happy. sorry if most of these were kind of repetetive qwq i really couldn't think of anything else

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

you step through the front door, feeling completely drained from a long, exhausting day at work. all you want is to sink into the quiet and leave every bit of stress behind. as you kick off your shoes, you hear gentle footsteps approaching, and heesung appears, his warm smile immediately softening the edges of your rough day.

without a word, he takes your bag and gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “go get comfortable,” he says, nodding toward the bathroom. “i’ve got something waiting for you.”

curious, you wander over, opening the bathroom door to find the most thoughtful sight: a warm, steaming bath, flickering candles casting a soft glow, and the delicate scent of lavender and vanilla filling the air. a fluffy towel and your coziest pajamas are laid out on the counter, ready for you. you can’t help but smile, feeling the tension already beginning to ease. —more under the cut!

you step into the bath, the hot water immediately soothing your tired muscles, and close your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the warmth. time slips by as you relax, the soft candlelight dancing around you and the familiar, comforting scent making everything feel so peaceful.

after a while, you hear faint sounds coming from the other room. when you step out of the bath and change into the soft pajamas, you find that heesung has tidied up the living room, fluffing pillows and folding blankets, creating a cozy haven just for you.

on the table, there’s a steaming mug of chamomile tea waiting, with a little note beside it: just relax. you deserve it.

you turn to find him leaning in the doorway, a gentle smile on his face. “feeling a little better?” he asks.

warmth fills your chest as you nod, walking over to hug him. “thank you, hee. this is… exactly what i needed.”

he wraps his arms around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “anything for you,” he murmurs. “now, go sit down. i’ll join you in a bit.”

with the stress of the day melting away, you sink onto the couch, tea in hand, and watch as heesung moves around the space, making everything feel calm and safe. you feel your heart swelling with gratitude, realizing just how lucky you are to have someone who knows exactly how to take care of you, even when you don’t ask.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

you barely make it through the door, feeling the weight of the week’s work still clinging to you. every muscle aches, and all you want is to collapse on the nearest soft surface. but when you look up, there’s jay, standing in the doorway with an armful of grocery bags and a gentle smile that instantly lifts your spirits.

“surprise!” he says, stepping inside and setting the bags on the kitchen counter. “i know you’ve had a crazy week, so i thought i’d make you dinner.”

your eyes widen as he begins unpacking fresh vegetables, herbs, and spices—everything you’d need for your favorite meal. he waves his hand toward the living room, giving you a playful but serious look. “now, no arguments. go relax. i’ve got this under control.”

reluctantly, but touched beyond words, you slip off your shoes and settle onto the couch, letting the comforting sounds of jay chopping vegetables and humming softly drift through the space. occasionally, you steal glances into the kitchen, watching him work with focused precision, tasting sauces and seasoning just right. the smell of fresh herbs and simmering spices fills the air, making you realize just how hungry you are.

after a little while, he calls you to the table, where he’s transformed your dining space into a cozy little restaurant. candles cast a warm glow over the table, and a small handwritten menu sits at your place, with your favorite dish written out in his neat handwriting, complete with little hearts doodled in the corners.

“your table is ready, madam,” he says with a grin, pulling out your chair.

you laugh, feeling warmth spread through you as he serves the food with a flourish. as you take a bite, you’re hit with how perfectly he’s captured all your favorite flavors, each one bringing a bit of comfort and joy you didn’t realize you were missing.

“this is amazing, jay,” you say, meeting his gaze over the table. “i… i don’t know what to say. thank you.”

he reaches across, squeezing your hand, his thumb tracing soft circles against your skin. “you deserve it,” he replies simply. “now, let’s eat before it gets cold.”

the two of you sit together, talking, laughing, and savoring each bite. and with each moment, the weight of your week starts to disappear, replaced by the warmth of good food, soft candlelight, and the gentle care of someone who knows exactly how to make you feel at home.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

after a long day of studying, you drag yourself back to your desk, only to find a neatly wrapped package sitting there, adorned with a little bow and a note in jake’s handwriting: “study survival kit: open for a boost of genius (and snacks)!”

smiling, you pull off the bow and lift the lid to find an array of thoughtful goodies. inside are all the essentials: your favorite snacks lined up like little soldiers ready to fight off your exhaustion, a pack of flashcards, and your favorite highlighters in every color. you laugh, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you dig deeper, finding a small envelope with another note tucked inside: “i’m so proud of you. you’ve got this!”

beneath the note is a playlist he’s made just for you. he even named it focus mode and added little notes next to each song: “for when you need motivation,” and “take a five-minute dance break to this one!” you chuckle, imagining him carefully curating each track to help you power through your study sessions.

the thoughtfulness hits you all at once, and you can’t help but pull out your phone to call him. he answers on the first ring, as if he was waiting for you to find the surprise.

“jake, i can’t believe you did all this,” you say, feeling a rush of gratitude.

he laughs softly. “just wanted to make sure you had everything you need. and, you know, remind you that you’re going to crush this.”

with his words and the little survival kit by your side, you suddenly feel a renewed sense of motivation. "thanks, jake. really.”

“anytime,” he replies, his voice warm. “now, go ace that studying—and remember to snack responsibly.”

with his support filling you with confidence, you settle back into your books, a little lighter and a whole lot more ready to take on anything.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

the morning feels like it comes way too soon. you barely finish getting ready when your phone buzzes with a message from sunghoon: “i’m outside! take your time, i’ve got everything covered 🙂”

surprised, you open the door to find him standing by his car, leaning against the open trunk where your luggage is already packed. he greets you with a soft smile, holding out a small paper bag. “breakfast for the road,” he says, passing you a warm breakfast sandwich, coffee, and a small, cozy travel pillow. you’re touched by the thoughtfulness in every detail.

“sunghoon, you didn’t have to do all this,” you say, already feeling a little more at ease despite the early hour.

he just smiles and opens the passenger door for you. “of course i did. can’t let you leave hungry, right?”

as he drives, you sip on the coffee, feeling grateful for how he’s taken care of everything. it’s a quiet ride, the city still sleepy, and you steal glances at him, heart warmed by how much he cares.

when you finally arrive at the airport, he helps you with your bags and pulls you in for a long hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “call me if you need anything,” he says softly. “and i’ll stay on the phone until you’re through security, okay?”

true to his word, he keeps you company over the phone, chatting about little things to keep your nerves calm. you laugh at his jokes, feeling lighter with each step through the busy terminal. his voice is steady, reassuring, and you’re grateful for his presence even from afar.

finally, after you pass through security, you glance back at him on your screen. “thank you, sunghoon. for… everything.”

“just want you to feel safe,” he says, his voice warm. “and loved.”

and as you head toward your gate, you feel exactly that.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

after a long week, you finally have a free afternoon to relax. you’re about to settle in when sunoo walks up to you, grinning with a mysterious sparkle in his eyes, holding a large shoebox behind his back.

“close your eyes,” he says, his excitement contagious. with a laugh, you play along, and he carefully places the box in your hands. when you open your eyes, the first thing you notice is the familiar logo, but as you lift the lid, you’re stunned.

inside is a brand-new pair of sneakers in your favorite colors, customized with little details that feel perfectly you. you run your fingers over the vibrant accents, noticing how he’s picked out each color with thought. tucked neatly on top of one sneaker is a small note in his handwriting: “let’s go make some new memories in these! can’t wait for our next adventure.”

your heart swells as you look up at him, a mix of excitement and gratitude in your eyes. “sunoo, these are amazing. i can’t believe you did this!”

he grins, eyes crinkling as he watches you examine the shoes. “i noticed your old ones were… well, let’s just say they’ve seen a lot,” he teases, laughing. “figured it was time for an upgrade.”

you slip them on, feeling the perfect fit and the subtle bounce in each step. “ready to test them out?” you ask, grinning.

he takes your hand, nodding eagerly. “absolutely.”

and as you head out together, each step in your new sneakers feels like the start of something special. with sunoo by your side, every walk feels like a new adventure waiting to happen.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

you sit at your desk, glaring at your laptop screen as it lags for the third time in five minutes. just yesterday, it froze while you were working on an important project, nearly driving you to the brink. as you vent your frustration, jungwon listens patiently, nodding with sympathetic looks and murmuring, “that sounds annoying.”

the next day, you return home to find your laptop sitting on your desk, seemingly untouched but with a small sticky note on the cover. curious, you pick it up and read his neat handwriting: “all fixed! hope this makes things a little easier 💻💙.”

smiling, you open the laptop, expecting the usual sluggish startup—but instead, it runs smoothly, faster than it has in ages. bewildered, you click through your programs, watching in awe as they open instantly, without a hint of lag.

it doesn’t take long to realize what he’s done. checking your settings, you see updates have been installed, cleanup software added, and unnecessary files deleted. jungwon must have spent hours working on this to get everything optimized.

you walk over to find him lounging in the living room, engrossed in a show. he looks up when you enter, noticing the laptop in your hands and a big grin spreading across your face. “so… everything’s working?”

“jungwon, i can’t believe you did all this for me!” you rush over, sitting beside him and giving him a grateful hug. “it’s running perfectly now. you’re amazing.”

he chuckles, returning your hug with a shy smile. “i just thought it’d save you some stress. i know how much it’s been bothering you.”

you look at him, feeling a rush of gratitude for his quiet thoughtfulness. “it really does. thank you,” you whisper, squeezing his hand.

he smiles back, his eyes warm. “anytime. just let me know if it acts up again, and i’ll be your tech support.”

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

you sit at your desk, sighing at your computer screen filled with unfinished photos. photography usually brings you so much joy, but lately, the editing process has been a struggle. no matter how much you try, you just can’t get the shots to look the way you want. it feels like you’ve been staring at the same images for days.

riki noticed your frustration. he’s always been supportive, but today, he had an idea. you have no clue, but while you were at school, riki spent hours diving into editing tutorials. he wasn’t exactly a pro, but he was determined to give it a try. he practiced adjusting lighting, color balance, and filters, slowly transforming your shots until he had a whole batch polished and ready. he left space for you to add any final touches, of course.

when you head over to his place later, riki greets you with a casual grin that hints he’s up to something.

“i have a surprise for you,” he says, leading you to his computer.

you look at the screen, and your jaw drops. your photos are there, fully edited—polished, vibrant, and so close to what you’d been hoping to achieve. “did you… edit these?” you ask, a mix of disbelief and excitement in your voice.

“yeah,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “i know you were feeling stuck, so i thought i’d help out. i, uh, left room for you to make whatever final touches you want, though.”

you can’t help but beam, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “riki, this is amazing! i can’t believe you did all this.” you pull back to look at him, a grateful smile stretching across your face. “you actually learned editing just for me?”

“of course,” he says, hugging you back, then smirks a little. “i knew how much this project meant to you. plus, you can teach me the tricks i missed, if there are any.”

you laugh, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. with riki’s help, the project doesn’t feel overwhelming anymore. sitting together, you go through the photos, making final adjustments here and there, and you feel more inspired than you have in ages.

and as the two of you admire the finished shots later that night, you can’t stop smiling. thanks to riki, your project is complete—and somehow, your passion for photography feels renewed all over again.

perm taglist. @honeychocos @honeybelleee @kozumesphone @manaah02 (perm taglist open!)

wyll taglist. @lilly-cherry7

©levandright

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tender-rosiey · 2 years ago

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hii, hope im not bothering uu!!

my brain is obsessed with ur daddy gojo ficsss!! 🤭🤭 just a thought though. what if gojo brought his kid to work since reader couldnt hire a babysitter and had work to do!! 😱😱 kid can be a baby or like, 7-10?? or something? (idrc i jus need to feed my head with more dad gojo fics 😔😔, kid can be a girl or boy!!) hopee u have a nice dayyy!! ❤❤

missing – gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I wrote the kid being around 5 or 6 max, I think?? hope you like this as well! <3

you are standing at the door, checking over everything with your husband, "satoru, you got the toys?"

like the proud and confident dad he is, he replies with ease, "yep."

"the snacks?"

“of course,” he grins, pulling up the bag of snacks and toys to show you.

but you’re still stressing, "what about—“

"wifey, relax!” he starts rubbing your shoulders soothingly; “I got everything she needs. you have nothing to worry about,” he presses a loud kiss to your cheek.

"last time you said that, you teleported with d/n to the maldives."

he laughs loudly, before pulling you into a big hug, "aww, babe; I said I am sorry,” he is swaying the both of you, “you know I wanted you to be with us."

"that's not the point!"

"oh wowie, look at the time!” he looks at his fake watch and starts gently pushing you towards the car, “you’re gonna be late sweetheart."

"oh god!" you gasp, quickly giving satoru his goodbye kiss, and running to your daughter to give her own goodbye peck on the cheek as well, “I will miss you; take care of dada, okay?”

“aren’t I the one who is supposed to do that taking care part?!”

“bye ‘toru; bye d/n! love you!”

“love you too!” they both reply in unison before looking each other in the eye. satoru grins at her, “do you want to see uncle nanami?”

“nanamin!” she squeals then runs to god knows where.

soon, they finally get to jujutsu tech.

it took longer than usual because the little missy ran off and decided to play hide and seek. in addition to that, since the madlives incident, you banned satoru from teleporting with d/n because it gets her really dizzy and she starts puking.

so like the common people, he takes a car and has to wait till they arrive there. he wants to grumble, but, at least, his princess is there to play with him and make conversations.

they are finally in class when nobara coos, crouching down in front of d/n, “oh, you’re so cute!”

the little girl grins, “thank you!”

“also, I love your dress!”

“oh; thank you!” d/n gasps and starts twirling around, “mommy picked it for me! It’s so pretty, right?” nobara nods eagerly at her and it makes d/n giggle.

d/n pauses for a moment, a pout on her face and eyes get teary, and looks at satoru, “mommy…”

satoru pats her head, “we will see her soon; don’t worry.”

“wow; I am surprised you’re acting like a proper dad,” megumi comments, waving at d/n who grins back at him.

swiftly, yuuji defends his teacher’s pride, “hey! sensei is a great dad!”

d/n starts swinging her arms around and running in place like she is preparing for something. soon. it is revealed what she is waiting for. the door opens and she launches herself at the new guest, “nanamin!”

nanami effortlessly catches her and secures his hold on her, “d/n, that was dangerous; what if you got hurt?”

she looks down with yet another pout, “I know…’am sorry. just missed you.”

nanami sighs before patting her head, “it’s alright,” a tiny smile creeps up, “are you having fun so far?”

she nods happily and starts rambling about how cool nobara is or how much fun yuuji is to be around. meanwhile, satoru is standing in a corner with his arms crossed and grumbling, “that’s my daughter, you know.”

“imagine losing your daughter’s affection to someone else,” megumi pops up from behind satoru.

he retorts with no hesitation, “imagine not having a father.”

satoru looks petrified at megumi who is so very offended. satoru starts mini-panicking, “wait—megumi, I was kidding!”

“divine dogs.”

satoru shrieks and d/n squeals, pointing at him, “minmin, daddy’s playing with ‘gumi’s dogs!”

nanami averts his attention to gojo playing (read: being attacked). he nods slowly at the suffering man, “he is having so much fun; isn’t he?”

“yay!” she throws her arms in the air.

nobara snaps a picture of d/n, “she’s adorable!”

yuuji sobs beside her, “I know right?!”

that was at the beginning of the day, but, right now, satoru has to attend a meeting for some reason with the higher-ups, including yaga. though, it hardly counts as a proper one considering that satoru laid out d/n toys so she can play with him.

“daddy, you’re not supposed to give him the green shirt; he needs the blue one.”

satoru quickly obeys, “yes ma’am,” and he changes the doll into his fabulous blue outfit. d/n giggles and holds his face to kiss his cheek.

one of the higher-ups clears his throat, “refrain from such disrespectful behavior during the meeting, gojo.”

satoru smiles humorlessly at the elder, “last time I checked, my daughter’s happiness is a lot more important than the nonsense you spout every single time.”

d/n carefully makes her way down the table and pulls on satoru’s pants, “daddy, toilet, please.”

“this was a fun meeting!” he beams, collecting d/n’s toys in her bag, “I have more urgent matters to attend to so adieu!” he mock bows, before bending to pick his daughter up, “let’s go princess.”

the door closes after satoru and d/n leave, and everyone looks at yaga. he takes a deep breath, “listen, that's his daughter. asking him not to pamper her is like asking a cat to let go of her kittens. you will get bit.”

time passes and satoru is chilling with d/n in the common room. she is laying on his lap and curled around herself. she groggily looks up to him, “when are we going to see mommy?”

he starts stroking her hair, “soon; I promise,” he takes out a candid picture he took of you and hands it to her, “how about you take this until we go back home and see mommy?”

she nods slowly and hugs the photo close. satoru smiles softly and presses a kiss to her forehead. not much after, d/n falls asleep with your photo secure in her hold.

it makes satoru chuckle. it reminds him of how he can never sleep without you either.

that’s why when he goes on mission, he scrolls endlessly through your photos until sleep takes over him or he listens to any voice message you sent. it helps him with the dilemma of missing you, and he is glad it helps his daughter the same way.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo x you #jjk gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n

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softlypossessive · 2 months ago

Text

♡･ﾟ𓏸 Demon Slayer Crushing HC 𓏸･ﾟ♡

♡ Characters: Tanjiro Kamado, Zenitsu Agatsuma, Inosuke Hashibira, gn!reader ♡ Warnings: Fluff, comedic obsession, feral affection, dumb boy behavior, light possessiveness (Inosuke) ♡ Notes: Just some silly, sweet headcanons about the boys crushing so hard it’s embarrassing. I love them. That’s it. Hashiras next?

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

🐉 Tanjiro Kamado

He tries so hard to act normal around you but accidentally zones out when you’re talking because he’s just... staring at you

With sparkly puppy eyes

“Wait, sorry—could you say that again? You just… looked really peaceful for a second.”

Trains twice as hard after you compliment him once

“You’re really strong, Tanjiro!”

Now he’s fighting boulders in the rain like it’s a romantic training montage

When you’re sick or hurt, he goes into Big Brother Mode™

Becomes your unpaid live-in nurse

Brings you soup, tucks you in, will NOT let you lift a finger

Keeps trying to bake you things

He’s not very good at it, but he’s determined

One day he shows up with slightly burnt mochi and big hopeful eyes

“It’s not too hard, right? You can still chew it?”

Has 100% memorized the exact way you laugh

Hears it across camp and turns like a sunflower to the sun

Writes your name in the dirt with a stick and immediately blushes and erases it

But does it again the next day

One of the only people who listens when you talk about small stuff

“I like plum blossoms” you had said once absentmindedly

Two weeks later he hands you a hairpin carved from plum wood

Will not realize you like him back unless you spell it out

You could kiss him and he’d be like :3

“They must be really affectionate! Wait—”

The second you confirm you like him too?

He gets so flustered he almost forgets to breathe

Smiles so bright he practically glows

“I’ll protect you with everything I have.”

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You’re exhausted, a little scraped up, and trying to insist you’re fine. Tanjiro isn’t having it.

“No, sit. Please.” His brows are furrowed, voice gentle but firm as he presses a cool cloth to your forehead. “You always take care of everyone else. Let me do this.”

You try to argue, but he hushes you with a soft smile—barely there, but warm.

“I’ll feel better if you just rest,” he adds, almost shy. “And… I like being near you like this.”

Your heart skips. His ears go pink. And still, his hands are steady.

⚡ Zenitsu Agatsuma

Falls hard, fast, and dramatically.

Sees you once and is already crying under a tree writing your names together in the bark

Tries to make himself look cool when you’re around

Which means he’s striking weird poses and talking in an unnatural deep voice that immediately breaks into a squeak

Panics if you sit next to him

Like full-body tremble, face-bright-red

“Stay cool stay cool stay cool”

He definitely does not stay cool

Will fight a mountain if you say you’re cold

“I’LL FIND FIREWOOD! I’LL STEAL THE SUN IF I HAVE TO!!”

Writes love letters to you in his notebook

Never sends them

If you ever found them?

He would die

Literally disintegrate on the spot

Whenever you do something kind for him—tie a bandage, give him food—he goes silent and then bursts into tears

“YOU’RE SO NICE TO ME I’M NOT WORTHY”

Overanalyzes everything you do

“They touched my shoulder. That means we’re married, right?”

Surprisingly good at noticing when you’re down

Will act like a complete fool if it means he gets to hear you laugh

If you like him back?

You are his everything

He will cry

He will train harder

He will whisper about you to birds

“I’ll become someone worthy of them!”

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You’re patching him up again—knees scuffed, robe ripped, crying about something and nothing. He sniffles, watching you wrap the bandage with careful fingers.

“You always treat me like I matter,” he whispers, voice wobbling. “Even when I’m a coward. Even when I mess up.”

You blink, and before you can answer, he grabs your hands in his.

“I’ll get stronger,” he swears. “For you. So I can protect you like you deserve.”

Then his nose starts bleeding.

You sigh. He swoons. It’s a whole thing.

🐗 Inosuke Hashibira

The moment he realizes he likes you?

That’s it

You're his person now

No angst

No confusion

“YOU’RE MINE!!”

Tries to court you the only way he knows how

Backflips into rivers, headbutts trees, fights two boars just to flex

“LOOK, LOOK, I’M FAST. I’M STRONG. YOU LIKE STRONG, RIGHT??”

Brings you “gifts”

Like a wrench, a door hinge, a rock shaped like a potato

“IT’S SHINY. IT’S COOL. KEEP IT.”

Doesn’t understand boundaries

Will sit next to you while you’re eating, sleeping, brushing your teeth

“IF I’M NOT NEAR YOU, HOW WILL YOU SEE HOW AMAZING I AM???”

When you confess?

He just nods, like it confirms what he already knew

“OBVIOUSLY YOU LIKE ME. I’M THE BEST. COME WATCH ME PUNCH THIS TREE IN YOUR HONOR.”

Immediately starts calling you his

Loudly

“THEY’RE MINE. BACK OFF OR I’LL BITE YOU.”

Will 100% fight Zenitsu daily to assert mating dominance

“YOU STAY AWAY. I SAW THEM FIRST. I HAVE CLAIMED THEM ALREADY.”

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You help him pull a splinter from his hand. That’s it. That’s all it takes.

The next morning, he’s sitting at your side like a feral cat who’s decided you’re family now.

“You fixed my hand,” he grunts. “That means you’re mine.”

You laugh. He scowls. “I’m serious! You belong in my pack now. Don’t wander off.”

He follows you everywhere. Drops random things in your lap. Fights Zenitsu twice before breakfast.

When you finally ask why he’s acting like a territorial forest spirit, he puffs out his chest and says:

“Because you’re important. Duh.”

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

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musingsofheaven · 8 days ago

Note

hiii! i would like to request a patrick x reader (reader is afab and patrick and her are together) — maybe the story starts with him losing a match so he’s like really upset, and during a party (late at night) while we talk to friends (including tashi and art maybe) the reader calls him a "friend"

i would like the fic to be angsty with tension (no smut!) maybe only some explicit scenes but mostly angst (and the story ends well obv)

tysm in advance <3

ALMOST SOMETHING.

summary: you're not together. not really. he never said he loved you. you never said you loved him. typical situationship shit. but he stayed the night. and the next. and the one after that. but it's fine. you're not together… you're just friends. right?

pairings: patrick zweig x afab!reader

warnings: 8.7k words. angst. emotional miscommunication. phone snooping / invasion of privacy. emotional hurt/comfort. mutual pining.

notes: hi anon i don’t know if i manage to bring your req to your liking but i hope you like this! >_< i wrote this with “casual” by chappell roan on loop (because i need reliving this shit to get an inspiration). heavily inspired by my own past relationship (if you’re reading this, no you’re not). also yes, normal people had me in a chokehold again. unfortunately. if you’ve ever do relationship things with someone but still got introduced as “just a friend” like it didn’t kill you inside? yeah. this is your canon event. i’m so sorry. pls enjoy <3

It’s not really new for you to have Patrick here. It’s not weird, not really, when he’s always here or long enough to have his copy of the key to your place. Well, he’s on your couch, just being comfortable and lazy. His legs are open wide like he’s paying for the rent. What’s in your place? A bottle of half-finished Coca-Cola is already sweating on the coffee table beside a plate of leftover carbonara with both of your forks staying there, not even bothered to finish it, well, not yet, at least.

Look at you; you’re walking around your apartment with a sock and messy bun. You don’t even bother if your sock will be dirty from dragging it on the floor. You are even humming to yourself as if pretending not to wonder if he will stay for the night. Well, ask if he can stay or tell you at least, but maybe you’re assuming something, right? But deep inside, you already know the answer to your question. He will stay even if he doesn’t announce it. He will not wait for the invitation when he always invites himself in.

You like how he was acting that day. He was good earlier. Sweet, or maybe just too good. He kissed your shoulder as you mixed the sauce with the past, his arm sneaking underneath your shirt and tightly holding your waist. He even said something sweet about how he likes having you like this. Caring. Good. Sweet. Although he’s also very clingy, you can tell that he’s still clingy right now, like a goddamn baby.

He keeps getting closer and putting no space between you; he’s invading your personal space. He’s brushing your shoulders when passing by you; you think he’s just finding excuses to touch you like that’s not even a big deal. His touch is not tense. It’s soft and gentle. It was the kind of night that will leave you aching later. That kind of thing that will have you stay up so late to ask yourself about the nonstop thoughts about “What are we?”

And damn, he’s now on your bed. Moved out from your couch when you are walking around the apartment. As he knew from the start that where he would stay, his legs were stretched and comfortable in your sheets, and his boxers were so low in his hips. It showed the goddamn v line and his happy trail, with the damp curls sticking to the back of his neck. His shirt hangs loosely on his body. The TV is still on but muted. More like just a light effect now. He’s still scrolling on his phone like he’s already bored. Waiting for something. Maybe waiting for you. Yeah.

You are standing by the dresser with your towel hanging off your shoulder, revealing your bare legs and skin still warm from the temperature. “I’m going to shower,” you stated.

His eyes remain against the phone screen, and he doesn’t even look up. “Yeah, alright.”

When you start walking and pass the bed, with your barefoot and socks removed, you’re not rushing to the bathroom. He catches your wrist before you get away and out of reach.

“How about skipping it?” he stated, almost pouting, but his eyes dragged down your legs. “You smell like me.”

“I need to shower before going to bed, Patrick.”

“So?” He rolls his eyes at your words as you feel his thumb drawing circles on your wrist. “You smell good, though.”

You make that face. You always make that face when you hear words that make you cringe or maybe when you want to mask what you’re feeling. You try to pull your wrist away, but he tugs back. But it’s not harsh; it’s gentle and easy. It’s enough to make you stop.

“Stay a sec,” he says and sighs before he leans up to press his lips against your cheek. “Then you can wash me away from your body.”

“You’re not even on me,” you mutter innocently, and you don’t even know how it will sound to him.

He grins and rests his head, pressing another kiss against your shoulder. “Yet.”

That made you roll your eyes and finally get out of his grip. Walk away from him and go towards the bathroom. He doesn’t try to get a hold of you again or chase your wrist. He lets himself get comfortable again in your bed.

“You always take too long,” he adds. “That will give me enough time to go through your stuff.”

You scoff and say, “Touch anything, and I’ll lock you out next time.”

He doesn’t respond, but there’s a grin on his face, and it is loud enough already, even though he’s not saying anything.

You go inside the bathroom and push your foot behind you so it will close, which clicks shut behind you. You didn’t even bother to lock it. Why would you? It’s just Patrick inside your apartment. You get off your clothes before showering and turn the water on. The steam flickers around you; it’s slow and warm. When the water hits your body, you breathe easier. You let the water flow away the day, the feelings, and the nerves that you didn’t even realize it’s knotted in your system until he came to your apartment and became comfortable like he always does. Like he belongs here.

In the shower, you take your time. You always do when he’s here. It’s not because you’re relaxed and want to enjoy the water in your body. Because you’re not. It’s because every second he’s in your apartment, it feels like a test you’re about to take when you’re anxious and not even ready to take it yet. You always think. Just think. Think. Think. Like, will he still be in that goddamn bed that god knows what both of you already did there when you come out from this shower? Will he leave the second he thinks you won’t notice?

He’s not a liar. Not really. Maybe he does white lies over little things. But you don’t think he’s a liar. But you know that he just doesn’t know what the fuck he wants, and that is what scares you the most. Uncertainty.

He hasn’t even said he loves you. Trying to avoid the three words. Not once. Not even when he’s inside of you, but maybe some things can be counted. Like when he brought your comfort drink from the coffee shop near your apartment, he even knows you’re a regular there. He always says it’s on the way to your apartment, even though it’s technically not. Sure, it’s close. But not close close. Maybe it can take 15 minutes to walk from your place. You also remember when he replaced the batteries in your television’s remote without saying a word. When you asked him, he said it’s not working; how can he watch his favorite reality show from your Netflix account? He even uses the terminologies or words you use as if he’s already adapting to them. He quoted back the dumb joke you made last week as if it meant something and was funny to his ears. He doesn’t say he loves you, but sometimes you feel like he does. And that’s something scary about his actions. It never came with words and assurance. You are both together, but not together in the same way.

Your mind is lost in that thought while your fingers start to wrinkle under the water, the mirror is fogging up, and your chest is aching like someone stabbed you with an ice pick and pulled it so your blood is spurting out like a fountain, it’s always like this when you remember this isn’t anything. Not really. Not officially.

You think, maybe this could be love. Perhaps it is already, and you’re the only one who has noticed. Worse, the one who feels like it is love.

While you’re in the shower and overthinking what you and Patrick have, the steam of water hisses behind that door. The hum of your voice, like you’re so relaxed and enjoying it, he hears it. Maybe you didn’t realize that it’s loud. And your phone’s on the nightstand, shining and still open because you set the sleep option to 10 minutes, so it won’t take long to close automatically. So it’s unlocked right now. Just… open.

And it’s not like he meant to.

He’s still on your bed, stretched, shirt little lifted so his abdomen is showing, legs crossed at his ankle like he’s bored as if he’s not going to do something awful. Your phone keeps flashing and showing notifications. Messages. Of course, he saw the previews. It’s your friends being loud. Talking about random shit like memes, emojis, and someone’s ex, he presumes. And.. he doesn’t mean to touch it, to tap it. He doesn’t, he swears! But his thumb is already moving as if it has its own life.

And then he keeps looking at it. Of course, it remains open.

What was the first thing he did first? He opened the photos, and the camera rolled first. It’s safe. Easy. Innocent even if he squints.

Just a bunch of random pictures, mostly. A picture from your dinner. A blurry video you took when you’re out with your friends. One of your dumb mirror selfies, face hidden as if you’re shy, and the shirt that is not yours, it’s his shirt, fuck, of course, that’s his. You look good in it. Too good. Like you meant to send it to him, but you got shy. Like you knew he’d see it. Like maybe you wanted him to.

He scrolls a little. There’s one where you’re out, food around you, and it looks like a gathering or a big event. You’re laughing like your whole mouth is smiling. You look happy. Not the pretend satisfied; no, you look like you enjoyed it. You don’t look like you miss him in it. You don’t look like you’re thinking of him at all.

He swipes back to the messages.

Curiosity kills the cat, no? The group chat keeps showing at the top of the phone screen. Jesus, there are so many messages like it’s one of your weekly catch-ups, full of fucking terminologies you guys only know the meaning of, someone talking shit about a guy who ghosted. It’s just girls being girls. It’s nothing. Yeah, it is. He knows that. Right? He shouldn’t be bothered. Not really.

But still, his thumb drags up. Just a little. To see. He’s not snooping. He’s just checking.

He doesn’t even know what he’s looking for by opening your phone. The voices in his head tell him it’s nothing. Assuring himself that he’s just bored because you are taking long again at the show, that he’s just curious because why your phone keeps having notifications, and he’s just scrolling through your phone while you’re rinsing shampoo from your hair, trusting him not to be a dick.

He tells himself a lot of things.

He must be staring at your phone, catching himself looking at the chat and the search bar. He’s itching from typing his name.

He doesn’t.

Well, he doesn’t, not as of the moment, no.

And then, as if an angel had whispered in his ear, he clicked the phone, and it closed. He placed it back where it was earlier, right where your hand will find it when you return, smelling so good and with soft skin.

He pretends it doesn’t bother him, so he lies back on your bed, eyes on the ceiling, jaw tight like he didn’t just scratch something open inside him. Pretend he wasn’t looking for proof you still want him. That you ever did. That this is something.

You’re damp, and water’s still dripping from your hair when you come out from the shower. The shower is just wrapped around your chest. The man doesn’t have shame and pretend he’s not looking at your body. His gaze dragged slowly over your bare and glistening legs like he had any right to stare at you like that.

“Finally done?” he asks, but you wonder if he’s teasing you because you took too long or if he’s just tired of waiting.

But you don’t answer. You walk over to the dresser, remove your towel from your body, and let it fall on the floor like you don’t care he’s staring at your naked back. You rummage for shorts and a shirt; technically, it’s his shirt. The same one you always steal because it’s just so soft and fits you like a dress. You hear him shift behind you. The sheets rustle. When you glance, he’s propped on one elbow now, watching like TV’s gone out, and you’re the next best thing.

He whistles low under his breath. “Damn. You get prettier every time you shower or what?”

You roll your eyes, but your face feels warm. “You’re annoying.”

“Mm,” he hums, grinning. “And you’re not denying it.”

You pull the shirt over your head before turning off the lights in the bedroom, and the only source of light right now is the television. The next thing you do is to crawl into bed beside him. The light from your phone flickers between you. You’re scrolling through your phone to check the texts, something dumb your friend posted, and you feel him shift closer, his arm sneaking around your waist tightly like muscle memory. He nuzzles into your neck with warm breath and lazy affection like he didn’t snoop earlier. Like he’s the kind of man who deserves to hold you like this.

“You not tired yet?” he mumbles against your shoulder.

You shrug. “A little.”

“Then put that down.”

“In a sec.”

He doesn’t argue. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and presses his lips before closing his eyes like it’s his bed, too. He lives here, too.

Stay up for around 15 minutes or 20. With the phone in hand, attention is focused on checking and replying to messages before your body relaxes slowly. Your head falls to his chest. Your eyes are closing slowly. Your grip on the phone loosens. Eventually, you go soft and still.

You don’t mean to fall asleep like that. It just happens: slow, stupid, quiet. You’re not worried about falling asleep because he’s close to you.

It’s the kind of tiredness that creeps in while you’re still scrolling. It’s something you don’t want when you’re goddamn trying to enjoy your phone time! One minute, you’re flicking through texts, thumb mindlessly tapping through photos your friend sent earlier that day and the next, you’re just… still. Eyes half-lidded. Breathing softly. Your head nuzzled right up against his chest like it’s a habit. Like it’s yours to do.

Patrick doesn’t say anything at first. Just lets you stay there. His hand resting on your arm, thumb tracing nothing in particular, eyes still locked on whatever rerun’s flashing on the screen. No noise since it’s muted. His mind is just... floating with dim light. Soft breath against his ribs. He glances down eventually, eyes catching the phone in your hand, but the screen is shut close now.

You’re out.

And the worst part is… he’s about to do something. Again. Which made his heart clutch in his chest.

Because you look peaceful. Trusting. All curled up on him like you’re not afraid of where this goes. Like you’re not waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He shifts slightly, careful not to wake you, sliding the phone from your hand. The lock screen clicks on. He hesitates, thinking over what he’s about to do.

Then he taps it.

Of course, it’s locked now. Of course.

He stares at the screen like it might give him an excuse not to try.

And then he tries anyway.

Your birthday.

Four digits. The month. The day.

It works.

His thumb lingers for a second like he might change his mind. Maybe he’ll lock it again, roll over, and pretend he didn’t think about it.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he opens it. He scrolls past the lock screen and stares at the photo on the home screen. It’s a photo of you that he took. It’s in the open area. It’s a picnic- your idea. Why? Because he’s bitching about tennis, and you thought it would help him destress. Well, it did.

Notifications are quiet. It stings for some reason. He tells himself it’s nothing.

When he opens the messages, he taps them like muscle memory. He’s unsure what he’s looking for until he does it.

Group chat. Her girls. The one that always lights up when they’re together. It’s full of emoji reactions, drunk selfies, and screenshots. He scrolls a little. It’s fine. Normal shit. A meme she laughed at earlier. A TikTok link that they all can relate to. A picture of someone’s outfit.

He’s about to stop.

And then, he types his own name in the search bar.

It feels gross. Feels low. Feels like some insecure dude who doesn’t trust his girl. But he does it anyway.

And there it is.

A conversation from a few nights ago. Time-stamped around 1:23 a.m. You were in this same bed. Right next to him, and he’s sleeping already that time. Yeah, it was a day ago when you two fucked...

He just read many messages; he didn’t even read from the top, where it all started. His eyes locked to certain words like...

“why is he still staying over?”

“he doesn’t even call you his girl.”

“you’re letting him use you for.”

“babe. come on. you deserve someone who actually wants you.”

“are u settling for something casual when u know it’s not?”

You didn’t say much.

Didn’t argue.

Didn’t defend him.

You just sent a short, cold message saying, “idk, lol.”

That’s it.

That’s what offends him.

Not the shit they said, but that you let them. That you didn’t even try. You shrugged and let them call it what it was and didn’t bother pretending it was something else.

He stares at the screen for a long time. Doesn’t scroll. Doesn’t breathe.

It’s not like he expected a speech. But fuck. Something. Anything. A maybe. A not fair. It’s not like that.

Not a shrug and a laugh like he never mattered.

You shift in your sleep beside him. Head nudging against his chest. The phone was still warm in his hands.

He closes the app, removes it from the recently opened apps list, and locks the phone before placing it on his bedside table.

And for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t feel like he belongs here.

He feels stupid.

But in your part that time, you’re just tired of arguing with your friends. Of course, they don’t like him. She already defends him to them multiple times. It’s just... that night, she’s just tired, maybe. Her mind is full of overthinking shit that she doesn’t bother to listen to their words and just lets it slide by saying she doesn’t know.

Patrick is the first one who wakes up, and the sounds of dishes clinking from the dishes are the ones who snatch you from your slumber. You can feel the faint light from the sun that slips through the curtains, that are not enough to blind the whole room. But the sheets are still warm, the shape of his body still marked against the bed where he was, although it’s empty now. It doesn’t take long to realize that he didn’t wake you. He didn’t shake you to say he’s going to do something. Doesn’t kiss your cheek or your shoulder. That will make your body warm because he always does that. You didn’t wake up to see him lying beside you and staring at you. No soft “I’ll be back,” no “Sleep more.” Just gone.

You roll onto your back, staring back at the ceiling. You look to your side and see your phone there on the nightstand. You think he must have taken it from your hand when you fell asleep. Nothing feels wrong at first. It’s just… quiet.

When you leave the room to go to the kitchen, you see him already dressed for the day. Just pants, a shirt, and sneakers that are still untied. He’s holding the coffee maker and pouring one of your to-go cups like he’s so eager to leave you without saying anything or waking you up. Haor is still damp, probably from a quick shower he took, and he doesn’t even notice you’re standing close to him.

“Hey,” you say while walking close to him and rubbing at your eyes. “Didn’t know you were up.”

“Didn’t want to wake you.” Still no eye contact. What happened to him? He’s acting so cold... or maybe avoiding you. You feel it in your bones.

You lean over the counter and ask him a question, even if you’re unsure, “Did you already eat?”

“Nah. Not hungry.” He caps the coffee and reaches for his tennis bag.

Something’s off. You know that. How? You feel it in the way he doesn’t reach for you. Or get too clingy. He always wants his hands on you. Don’t tease. Doesn’t smile.

“Big day,” you say, trying to sound energetic and smile at him. “You ready?”

He nods. Still not looking at you. “Yeah.”

You step closer, reaching for his arm, just lightly. “Hey. You good?”

Finally, he looks at you just for a second, but he doesn’t swat his arm away from you. That’s good. “Yeah. I’m just focused.”

You smile, trying to believe it. “Well… win for me. Alright?”

His jaw twitches like he might say something else, something real, but he doesn’t. But you noticed the way the movement of his jaw before he leaned in and brushed his lips against your temple.

“I’ll see you later,” he murmurs.

“Mhm, yeah, at the after party,” you said, and then he was out the door.

And you’re just there. Still in the kitchen. Left standing there in his shirt, still sleepy, and wondering why your chest feels heavy.

He’s cold. He’s distant. He’s not like that. Sure, sometimes he might be, but not like that. And you don’t know it yet, but he’s already going to lose the match way long before he steps onto the court.

His first problem? His body appeared in the match alongside him. He’s not in a condition to do it.

The second problem is that no one notices this. Maybe he masks it so much that his coach doesn’t see it, not the staff, not even his friend Art, who’s across the court. Because that’s how he is. Patrick knows how to fake it. He always has. He always will. Head down, shoulders squared, hands twitching around the racket like they know what they’re doing like he’s still locked in. But he’s not. Not even close.

The truth is ugly, small, and stupid. He couldn’t sleep last night.

Not because he’s nervous. Not because he’s having second thoughts to get in the fucking court. Not because of his body. Not because of nerves. Because of what he saw. Because his hand got the itch and he opened it. Without your consent. He chose to snoop. He chose something that would bother him.

You said nothing. Just “idk, lol.” That’s it.

Now, he’s the one crashing out here. He’s staring at the sun like he’s wishing it blinds him. But only blinking again, it’s like it’s your spotlight and not his match. Like he’s walking around as if there’s a heavy baggage on his back that weighs more than it should. Like every breath hurts just enough to notice.

Of course, of course. He fucks up the first serve. Too fast. Too wide. Sloppy.

When will the second one land? It’s shit. It lands but barely. He returned it too late. He has no reaction time and moves slowly, like a snail. His feet drag. His arms tense.

And it spirals from there.

From there, every serve he gives is shitty. Every point feels so fucked by the system. His body drags him throughout the match, seeing if he will break. If he curses out to get a violation. Or smash his racket. He’s sweating too early. Breathing too fast, like he didn’t train the breathing exercise throughout his career. His coach says something from the sidelines, but he doesn’t even manage to hear it. Not really.

His head is somewhere else.

With you, maybe. Or not even with you. With your phone. That screen. That conversation. That group chat.

“why are you doing girlfriend things without the label?”

“you deserve better.”

He keeps hearing it. Over and over. Like it’s echoing inside his fucking skull. As if he’s losing his mind and starts hearing things he shouldn’t hear. Like he’s returning the ball to silence you from his mind.

He messes up again, double-faulting in the second set. He doesn’t even swear. He slumps his shoulders and hangs his head. The racket feels weird in his hand.

He knows he’s losing. And he knows it before the score shows it. He can feel how his body jerks too sharply on the backhand. On the way, the crowd is muttering instead of cheering. On the way, Art glances over at him, looking worried, like he’s never seen this version of Patrick before.

And he barely registers it when it’s all over- the handshake, the camera flashes, the reporters swarming him. He walks through the tunnel like he’s in a daze- a slow, suffocating one.

He doesn’t even bother checking his phone. He doesn’t need to.

Because the thing that’s eating at him isn’t what you said.

It’s what you didn’t say.

And that? That’s the real loss he’s feeling.

The after-party is not fancy, not even close. It’s not one of those after-parties sponsored by foundations or rich people. This one is the usual post-match bullshit or gathering in one place. The music is too loud. The lighting is so dim that you won’t clearly see the faces who are there. Bodies are so close and crammed onto booths, corners, and stairs that everyone doesn’t know where they should be. Someone said this was a casual, low-key, familiar face who would be inside this downtown bar. But now? There are thirty people here. You’re guessing there might be more. Teammates. Coaches. Friends of friends. Tennis people. Everyone knows how this goes.

Win or lose, there’s always a drink after.

You came because you always do. Well, maybe it’s because you are surrounded by tennis people like Patrick, Tashi, and Art. But it’s not about showing up would say something. Because Patrick didn’t text you, and you didn’t text him either, and now it’s like you’re walking on eggshells.

You spot him the second you walk in.

Of course, he’s already here. Jackass. Didn’t even manage to message you and ask if you’ll really come. He’s leaning against the wall near the exit like he’s avoiding people. Yeah, you heard that he lost. Badly. His hair is still damp from the shower, or perhaps from the sweat in this hot place. It’s sticking on his forehead and the back of his neck. He’s casually wearing a black, loose at the shoulders, collarbone half-visible, eyes on anything but you. The drink in his hand was probably not his first drink. You can tell by how he holds it; he is already loose, distracted, and lazy. Not drunk. Just… heavy. Like his hands forgot how to rest.

He hasn’t looked at you.

Not once.

You’re not surprised. You haven’t spoken since the morning. Since you told him, good luck. Since he kissed your forehead out of habit, he did not care. Since he left, the bed was too loud.

You thought maybe he’d text after. He didn’t. You didn’t either.

So now you’re here. And he’s here. And the space between you is full of people who don’t know anything.

Everyone else assumes you’re together. Of course, they do. You showed up to the tournament together. You’ve been seen in his circle. Always having people speculate if you’re his girlfriend, and you’re close enough to whisper, close sufficient to disappear together. That’s what they think this is.

When do they see you? They will smile as if they’re telling you something. Sometimes, they will ask you where he is. Ask you if you can tell him things. Tell you, he looked pissed after the match like maybe you’d know why.

And you don’t say anything. You hold your drink with both hands and nod at all the correct times. You laugh when you’re supposed to. Smile with your mouth but not your eyes. You don’t even know what you’re waiting for.

You catch glimpses of him across the room. Once, his eyes flick your way, but not fully. Not enough to call it a look. Just enough to hurt.

You know he’s mad. You don’t know how deep it went. You don’t know if he’s mad at you, at himself, or at how everything cracked, and neither of you had the guts to pick it up before it got worse.

You wonder if he’s gonna come over.

You wonder if he’s waiting for you to do it first.

Fine. You’ll try. Yeah, you, again.

You walk towards his direction and look at him up and down before you tap your foot against the floor as if you’re impatient and want him to look at you. “Heard about what happened in the match,” you said directly. Beating around the bush. Too comfortable to say that directly.

“Is that why you’re not talking to me?” you ask again. You look at his hand clutching his drink while he’s looking down at it.

“What?” he scoffs before finally meeting your gaze.

“I mean,” hesitated. Your lips closed, and take a deep breath.

“Talk to me?” softer this time. Waiting for him. Gauging him to break, maybe he will if you speak more softly.

But he didn’t. He licks his lips and twitches his jaw slightly, but you don’t catch that because they didn’t really show details. He’s in a bad mood because, yeah, partly because of the match. Most of it? Because of you. Not that you know that.

“Not right now, okay?”

Ah.

Yeah.

Ouch.

You nod before walking away from him, and your shoulders fall as you turn away and find other familiar faces.

You could feel the place being warm and loud but in a distant kind of way. The party is happening, but you’re just... there. There are just muted beats. Bowl of melting ice cream cake on a drinking table. Now you’re talking with Tashi and Art while sitting on this couch you managed to save. And yeah, with another girl, some mutual friend of Tashi, you think. She’s wearing her she’s already slipped off and holding her wine by the rim like she’s never drunk before in her life.

They’re laughing. You are just not sure about what, though. Tennis or not. You haven’t kept track of the topic they’re talking about anymore. You’re tired. You’ve been here too long. Art’s nursing a beer. Tashi has something clear, with ice melting into it too quickly. You don’t know what the person next to her is drinking, only that they keep swirling it too often and talking like they’ve been here longer than they have.

“Do you ever think about quitting?” the stranger asks suddenly, looking at Art, then Tashi. “Like… just walking away? From tennis, I mean.”

Art huffs a dry laugh. “I think about it all the time.”

“Never,” Tashi says, almost at the same time.

They glance at each other.

Art shrugs. “What? I’ve got a bad body. A couple more losses, and I’m one tournament away from teaching pickleball to retirees.”

“You’d hate retirement,” she says, sipping her drink. “You’d be one of those guys who paces the kitchen at 3 a.m. trying to relive a backhand volley.”

You smile a little. Tashi’s always like this. Blunt, lowkey cruel, but never wrong.

“I’d be a great coach,” Art mutters.

“You’d be insufferable.”

The stranger laughs, leaning toward you. “Do you play too?”

You shake your head. “God, no. I just watch.” You wish. Maybe you know how to play. But more like a hobby, not at a tournament level, like the three. Try to learn to hang out with them more. Or maybe because they keep insisting on teaching you.

“From the box seats, huh?” They gesture the shape and smirk. “You’re dating one of them?” she says, teasing, “who was the guy with you earlier?”

You blink. “What?”

She waves her hand like she’s trying to remember it. “The one with the curls. Brunette Tall. Real serious face.”

“Oh- Jesus. Patrick?” You laugh. Dumbly. Without even looking around. “No… He’s just a friend.”

That’s when it happens.

You don’t think.

You don’t hesitate.

You don’t even realize it.

You don’t think about it. Don’t even mean it. It just comes out. Your dumb, big mouth just let it out. The way anything does when your brain’s on autopilot and you’re still trying to track a conversation that’s three jokes ahead of you.

But Tashi doesn’t laugh.

Art doesn’t smile.

Even the girl who doesn’t even know you goes kind of quiet.

Of course, you feel the shift in the scene. That soft, silent ripple in energy. Tashi’s eyes lift. So does Art. The girls, too. Like something’s moved behind you.

You turn.

And he’s right there.

Patrick. Feet away. Standing still. Drink loose in his hand, eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them. Their shoulders drew in like he was trying to stop himself from shattering right here.

He must’ve walked up behind you. Must have heard it just as a friend, like a punchline.

He doesn’t say anything.

Doesn’t need to.

Patrick hasn’t moved.

Not a step.

Not a sound.

When you finally look at him, he’s already looking at you.

And his face?

His face is nothing. Blank. Flat. That calm, unreadable quiet that says you really fucked this up, and I’m not going to make a scene, and this is precisely what I should’ve expected.

He looks away first before walking away.

Tashi lets a low breath through her nose and puts her glass down without looking at you.

Art frowns. “Damn.”

You feel your heart clench.

You open your mouth. Close it. Try again. “Patrick...”

But he’s already walking off.

Tashi sighs. Eyes looking at you as if she’s saying something, maybe, why are you this stupid? “Hey.”

Art lifts a brow, not unkind. “Might wanna run after that one.”

And you just… stand there.

Still. Ashamed. Like someone throws cold water in your body, and you’re freezing.

Then your legs start moving.

Fast.

Because that wasn’t nothing. That wasn’t a casual comment. That wasn’t the kind of thing you say when the person you love... What love? What the fuck. Okay, maybe the love of your life is standing right there behind you.

That was a lie.

And you don’t even know why you said it.

You wish you could return to that time, and don’t say that at all. Not because it wasn’t true, but because it wasn’t kind. Because you’re being dumb. You’re being insensitive. Because you could’ve said anything else. Could’ve smiled. Could’ve joked. Could’ve said “something like that” or “don’t worry about it” or literally anything that didn’t sound like you were scrubbing him off your name in public.

But you didn’t.

You said, “Just a friend.”

And there were you fucked up.

You catch up to him outside just past the

The exit, half a hallway away, steps echoing off cold tile. He doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t turn. You grab his arm.

“Patrick,” you say, voice shaking.

He stops but doesn’t face you. His jaw is tight, and his body is like a rock; you can feel the tension.

You step in front of him. “Hey. Don’t do that. Don’t just walk away. Please”

He finally looks at you, and his eyes are not fully angry. It’s something worse. Quiet disappointment. That sick, sinking kind. The kind you feel in your teeth. It’s fucking worse than anger. Anger is something you can take. Disappointed is something you will dwell on for months.

“You really said that?” he mutters. “Just a friend?”

You open your mouth, but he keeps going.

“You couldn’t come up with anything else? Not even a maybe? Not even a laugh?” His voice cracks on the edge. “You said it like you meant it.”

You blink, stunned. “I didn’t... It wasn’t like that...”

“No? Then what was it like?” He swat his arm away from your hold. “What the fuck was it, huh? Just a reflex? Some automatic response to erase me in front of everybody else?”

“Why are you acting like I did it to hurt you?”

“Because it fucking hurt,” he snaps, but his voice is not raising. Still thinking you’re in public. “I was standing right there, and you said it like I was no one.”

You exhale hard. “So this is what we’re doing now? Picking apart throwaway comments?”

“That’s the thing,” he says, voice lower now, almost laughing. He shakes his head, as if what an absurd comment you just made has made him do that. “You throw me away all the time.”

That hits. Sharp and cold.

You almost glare at him, nearly too stubborn. “You never asked me to call it anything else.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” His laugh is bitter. “Of course.”

“I’m serious,” you spit. “You don’t get to act hurt when you’ve kept this undefined since day one.”

“And you’ve been just fine with it, haven’t you?”

You stare at him. “Don’t.” You bite your cheek and try to calm down a little.

“No, really,” he says, eyes narrowing. “You play this whole casual girl thing so well. Pretend it doesn’t bother you. Pretend you don’t care. You think I don’t notice?”

You cross your arms like you have something to prove. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I have begged for a label? Would that have made you feel better?”

“I would’ve taken anything,” he says. “Literally anything but that.”

You go quiet.

Then you say, “You’re so fucking quick to make this about you.”

He scoffs. “It was about me.”

“No,” you snap. “This was about you seeing one moment and blowing it up so you don’t have to admit you’re scared. You are terrified of needing someone. Like you always have.”

“Don’t act like you’re not.”

“I’m not the one who left this morning without saying goodbye.”

“I was trying to protect myself.”

“From what?” your voice raising, but not enough to be loud through the loud music. “From being liked? From someone actually giving a shit about you?”

He says it quietly. “I saw your phone.”

You look at him as if he has just betrayed you. “What?”

“I saw what they said about me,” he continues. “Your friends. Calling me a waste of time. Saying I don’t treat you right.”

Your stomach drops. “Patrick...”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“It wasn’t,” You bite the inside of your cheek. “It wasn’t like that.”

“You didn’t defend me.”

“I didn’t think I had to,” you say quickly, but it sounds thin and brittle.

He scoffs under his breath. Looks away. “Of course you didn’t.”

You fold your arms, that sick weight settling in your chest. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like that. Cold. Nonchalant. Like I didn’t care.”

“You didn’t, though,” he says and snickers. “Or not in a way that counted. Not in a way that mattered when it actually fucking hurt.”

“I didn’t know it hurt,” you say, voice cracking. “You never say when things hurt.” Yeah, because that’s how he is. No one will know when he’s hurt.

“Because I don’t want to be fucking pitied,” he mutters. “Because I don’t want to come off like some clingy piece of shit begging for scraps of affection.”

“That’s what you think I’m doing?” you spit. You open your mouth and nod like he’s being a piece of shit, which he is. “I’m the one who has to guess how you feel all the time. You show up, leave, kiss me like I’m yours, and pretend nothing changes.”

He stares at you hard but doesn’t answer.

“You want to know why I didn’t say anything to them?” Your voice is shaking now. “Because I didn’t know where we stood. Because you never told me. Because I’m tired of being the only one who asks for things.”

His jaw clenches.

“I give you everything,” you say. “And you give me just enough to stay.”

“That’s not fair.”

You laugh. “Isn’t it? Then tell me what this is. Say something real for once.”

He’s quiet for a beat too long.

And that hurts worse than anything.

You whisper, “That’s what I thought.”

His eyes flash the pain, maybe anger, definitely fear. “You want real?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” He breathes hard. “I didn’t ask you to be mine because I thought you’d say no. I wanted more because I figured you’d pull away the second.”

You freeze.

“Every time I felt close to you, I backed off,” he says. “Because I didn’t think I could keep you. You’re all in one second, then guarded the next. I never knew what the fuck to believe.”

Your throat tightens. “You never told me that.”

“And you never asked,” he fires back.

“I asked all the time!” you yell. “I asked with every look, every time I stayed up waiting for you, every time I fucking hoped you’d text me goodnight.”

He exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I didn’t want to need you that much.”

“Well, congratulations,” you snap. “You didn’t act like it.”

“You made me feel like I was temporary.”

“And you made me feel like I was too much.”

Silence.

Painful. Petty. Loud.

Both of you are breathing hard.

Both of you think the other doesn’t get it when, really, neither of you does.

Finally, he shakes his head. “You should’ve defended me.”

“And you should’ve chosen me,” you whisper.

There it is. The deepest wound. The ugliest truth.

“I was in your bed,” he says softly. “And I still didn’t feel like I was yours.”

“I wanted you to be,” you say. “But I couldn’t be the only one who knew it.”

He doesn’t say anything. And that’s the worst part. The silence. The cowardice of it. Because silence is the loudest response.

So you look at him, as if trying to memorize this version of him. The one who almost loved you out loud. The one who nearly shows himself to you.

And he looks back like he wishes he knew how to say sorry without choking on it.

Then he walks past you.

And this time, you don’t stop him.

Because maybe the real pain isn’t that he walked away. You both think the other is the one who let go first.

Because every time you both fuck up, you both blame it on each other’s love. Both of you are scared. Full of misunderstanding. Work so well, but fucking cowards.

While you? You go back to the party, but you don’t even remember leaving after hours.

One second, you watched him walk away; the next, you were outside, keys shaking in your hand, trying to unlock your car without crying.

You don’t cry in the parking lot while opening the car. No. Maybe you did, but not until the door is closed. Not until the engine’s off and you’re parked back outside your apartment, forehead pressed to the steering wheel, breath caught somewhere in your ribs. That kind of ache. That stupid, helpless ache that only comes when someone doesn’t break your heart outright. They just don’t protect it. The type of pain you will beg a psychiatrist to give you painkillers or mood stabilizers just to make you don’t feel anything.

You sit there a while. Lights off. Face hot. Your phone buzzes once, then again. You don’t look. You already know it’s not him. He got too big of an ego to do that. Prideful even.

Upstairs, the apartment feels too quiet. His soda is still in the fridge, his hoodie’s on the chair, and the leftover pasta you didn’t finish is still on the coffee table, forks crossed like they’re waiting for someone to return.

You don’t throw anything.

You don’t scream.

You just… turn on the hallway light. Leave it glowing.

You don’t lock the door.

You never do when it’s him.

Instead, change your clothes, and you crawl into bed in his shirt. Try to scroll. Try to read. Try to not wonder where he is. If he’s thinking about you. If he’s just as sick about it as you are. But every thought echoes the same. You said he didn’t choose you. He thinks you never wanted him. You were both wrong. You were both right.

When you wake up hours later, the light in the hallway is still on.

And the door is still unlocked.

But no one’s come through it.

You can’t sleep. Not when you feel like that. Not when you’re in this shitty state. Not when you close your eyes. You just repeat what happened.

But what you didn’t know is Patrick hasn’t gone home either.

He’s just driving. Driving like he’s just wanting to dry his gas off his car. Driving on a loop through the neighborhood like he’s on some sort of movie who can’t escape the same route he doesn’t recognize, music low, headlights off when he parks. He sat outside your building twice. Lit a cigarette. Didn’t smoke it. Wrote out a text and erased it. Thought about calling. Thought about saying I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t know how to do this without ruining it.

You’re in bed. His shirt is on your skin. No pants. Just in the fabric he left in your drawer and the hallow in your chest that hasn’t gone down since they both implied the, “You ruined it,” and “No, you did.”

The light is still on.

You didn’t bother turning it off when you went under the covers. You didn’t even lock the door. You’re such an easy target for someone who wants to break in.

You don’t know why. But part of you hope he’ll go to your place tonight. Apologize. To fix things. And maybe there’s always part of you that leaves the door unlocked when it’s him so he can access your life.

And when it finally happens, when the front door creaks open soft enough to sound like a dream, you don’t move. Not even when you hear his steps. Not even when he stops at the foot of the bed.

He doesn’t say a word, just quiet.

He just walks around to the other side, he’s unsure compared to his usual cocky self. He doesn’t climb to the bed or even reach for you.

He sinks to the floor beside your bed.

Sits there, back against the wall. Legs bent, arms hanging loose over his knees. Breathing like he ran here. Breathing like he’s still trying to come down from everything.

You stay still.

You don’t ask him what he’s doing. You don’t ask why he’s here.

Because you know.

Because this is how he says sorry.

Not with apologies. Not with speeches. But with silence. With presence.

With staying when it would be easier to leave.

So you let him.

You turn onto your side, eyes fixed on the corner of the room, tears burning but unshed, and whisper, so quiet you’re unsure if it’s for him or yourself.

“I left the door open,” you say.

He doesn’t answer.

But a minute later, his fingers brushed against the edge of the mattress.

Not asking. Not asking permission to touch you.

Just… there. It doesn’t go further.

You stay still, like maybe if you don’t move, this won’t have to become any harder than it already is. But then your hand slides down, hesitant, and your fingertips find his. You didn’t intertwine it with his hand, though.

Neither of you say anything for a while.

The silence is thick. Heavy with everything you screamed earlier. Everything you didn’t.

Then, softly, so softly it barely sounds like him, he says: “I don’t know how to love someone who might not stay.”

You blink up at the ceiling.

He swallows. “I keep waiting for it. For you to get tired. For you to wake up and realize I’m not what you want. That I never was.”

This time, you wrap your hand against his hand and tighten your fingers around his.

“I think about it all the time,” he says, voice cracking a little and lacing with doubt. “Every time you go quiet or pull away or don’t text back right away. I tell myself, ‘There it is. That’s her leaving.’ I’ve lived in that space my whole life. I don’t know how not to.”

You turn your head toward him. His face is barely visible in the dark.

“I don’t say the right things,” he adds. “I shut down. I act like I don’t care before you can prove that I was stupid for caring in the first place.” Because that’s not how he is. He just... he’s never really open with it.

You breathe in, breath shaky. “I don’t want to leave.”

He nods slowly, trying to acknowledge it. But his voice doesn’t believe it. “You said I was just a friend.”

“I didn’t mean it...”

“I know. That’s what hurts.”

You close your eyes. “I say the wrong thing when I panic. I ruin moments that mean something because I fear needing them too much.”

Silence.

“I didn’t defend you to my friends because…” You bite your lip. “Because part of me thought maybe they were right. Not about you. About me. That I wasn’t worth more than ‘almost’ because it’s always like that, always liked but not pursued.”

His breath catches.

“I didn’t think you’d choose me,” you whisper. “So I never asked you to. I’m scared to be the one always asking people, so I just let them give me what they can give.”

For a moment, there’s only breathing between you.

Then his hand moves up, slow, dragging along your wrist. He presses his forehead to the side of the bed.

“I don’t know how to be enough for someone who already thinks I’m not.”

Your voice trembles. “I don’t know how to believe someone will stay just because they say they will.”

He looks up at you, finally. And it’s all there. The pain. The shame. The hope.

“But I want to,” he says. “With you, I want to try.”

You nod. Barely. “Me too.”

He climbs into bed beside you, slow and uncertain. He’s afraid even this might be too much.

You don’t kiss. Don’t even touch. Just lay there, shoulders almost close, hearts close under the same ceiling. The air between you is still tight, with things unsaid but softer now. Worn down to the truth of it.

Then his fingers shift. Brush against yours like a question.

You don’t pull away.

You feel him next to you, breathing in slowly. It hurts. Like it matters. And then, gently, Patrick presses his forehead to your shoulder. Doesn’t say anything. Just rests there for a moment. Warm and quiet and close. His lips graze your skin once. A small kiss. Not in a way; he’s asking for sex. Not trying to heat up the moment. No. Just sorry. A, please. A still here.

You close your eyes.

You don’t say anything.

And then, “Are you staying?” you whisper.

He exhales like it’s the only thing he’s wanted to hear all night. Doesn’t look at you. Just nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m staying.”

It’s not fixed. Not even close.

But it’s something.

And for now, that’s enough.

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

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gothamhappiness · 9 months ago

Text

You are my heaven 4 (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. And then you asked for more :)

My masterlist is here.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of fear and worry, pregnant!reader, ansgt

You were happy. You were feeling like everything was as it should be. You even started to forget about this whole story of Bruces being switched from parallel universes. The children too. The Justice League saw a difference in Batman but they didn’t press the subject when they also noticed how the children were acting around him. You were a real family.

The “new” Bruce was always a little bit worried that the “real” Bruce would come back, but with time, he slowly let his guard down. He had a nightmare about it a few nights ago, but when he woke and found you by his side, he calmed down. He had wrapped his arm around, his hand resting on your belly. You were pregnant with his child and he was the happiest man on Earth. He was certain it was going to be a baby girl. You woke up a little before happily humming into his embrace, intertwining your fingers with his.

“All good, my love?” you whispered

“Just checking on my darlings” he murmured back as he kissed your shoulder

“Love you” you smiled

“Love you too” he replied with a smile matching yours

Your bedroom door cracked open then and you both saw Damian peering inside the room.

“Come, baby” you gestured to Damian to come closer

Damian was still a little bit unsure around this new version of his father. Of course, he seemed more caring and more protective, while still being a genius detective and an amazing warrior. But he still felt like he was betraying his original father.

“Everything alright?” Bruce asked

“Just a nightmare” Damian whispered, almost ashamed

You made room for Damian who settled against you. Bruce gently stroked his hair until the child fell asleep under his touch. You smiled even more. Your lover was going to be such a good father to your child.

You were at the hospital for a little check up on you and the baby. Bruce was supposed to join you there once he would be done with a quick meeting at Wayne Enterprises.

The real Bruce Wayne saw an opportunity. He knew his plan was drawing attention and that his other self and children would quickly understand… But he needed to reach you. He easily hacked the security of WE and he made sure that the breach would be seen and a problem to take care of as fast as possible. He hoped it would allow him to come find you while the other Bruce would have to deal with the little mess he created.

You were still in the waiting room when your actual husband showed up. He was glad he had bought several safe houses and that they held enough money and suits for him to look good. Your eyes instantly lit up when you saw Bruce, even though you could tell something seemed different. Bruce smiled back and leaned to kiss you. He so happily cupped your chin to deepen the kiss. He was a starving man who just wanted his wife back. Gosh, he almost forgot how good it was to get his lips on yours. You chuckled before gently pushing him away

“Come on, Bruce. There are people around us” you said, a little bit surprised

“Sorry, love. Missed you so much” he whispered to you

“We saw each other this morning” you replied, you were refusing to understand what this meant

“We really haven’t” Bruce replied

Your first thought was to worry about your lover. If your husband was there, did it mean that he had been sent back to his own world? You felt sick. You felt your phone buzzing in your bag and checked the notification: “Sorry, my love. We’ve got a security breach, I’ll do my best to be at the hospital as soon as possible”. You calmed down a little bit, even though you were unsure about what to do.

“What is going on?” you murmured

Bruce was about to say something when the nurse came to find you. You both followed her. You tensed a little when the man placed a hand on your back and he felt it. He moved closer so he could whisper into your ear.

“Come on, darling, it’s me” he tried to reassure you “Don’t be afraid, I’ll make things better very soon. I just need your help” he added and you didn’t answer

You settled in the room for the echography. Bruce stayed by your side the whole time, until the nurse asked him to go out so she could have a chat with just you. She had noticed you were a little bit stressed out today and she wanted to make sure everything was alright.

You apologised to the nurse.

“I’m sorry, I received a message before the consultation… I’m just going to make a very quick call, is it alright?” you asked and the nurse nodded.

You instantly took your phone and called your lover. As usual, the man answered right away.

“Is everything alright, my love? Are you out of the hospital already?” he asked and your silence instantly worried him “What happened?”

“He’s here” you simply said and your Bruce instantly understood what it meant

“Alright, my love. Take a deep breath, the stress is bad for you and the baby. I promise you I’ll make things better very soon” he told you “I just need you to come back home and relax, okay?” he added

“But he’ll probably follow me home” you worried

“When you’ll get out of the hospital, go find Alfred in the car and call Dick. Give him the emergency code and he’ll quickly come over. Can you do that for me, my love?” he instructed you

“Yes, okay. See you later” you said

“Keep me in check, my love.”

“You too”

You hung up before going back to the consultation. The nurse finished the tests she wanted to do and finally let you go. Bruce was waiting for you. He grabbed your hand and gently kissed the back of it.

“Let’s go home” he hummed and you nodded

Your silence was breaking the man even more

“I know you must feel very confused” he started “and it must be a shock that there are now two Bruce Wayne in town. But I’m your husband, I’m the real one. You have no idea how hard it has been to come back home. And even though the child isn’t really mine, I’m so excited to see you pregnant. I can’t wait for this new addition to the family” he said, thinking you were stressed out because of you discovering you cheated on him with another self

“How do I know you’re the real one?” you asked, you were trying to gain some time. “Look, I just need to call Dick. I promised him to do so after my consultation at the hospital and he’ll worry if I don’t”

“Of course, go ahead”

You grabbed your phone and called Dick, as you entered the car. Alfred was a little bit surprised by your gloomy face before noticing that Master Bruce wasn’t wearing the same clothes as this morning. There was a crazed glitter in his eyes as well.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” Dick answered

“It’s just to let you know that everything is alright with the baby, but I’m not too sure I’ll be able to make it at tonight's party.” you replied and you heard Dick getting up and grabbing his coat

“Where are you?” he replied back

“Soon home” you hummed, relieved your eldest son was always so ready to help

“I’ll be there”

PART 5

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

Taglist for this series <3

@bat1212

@karakento

@kneelforloki

Thanks for the ideas & the comments <3

@motherofdragons1998

@silverklaus

@optimisticmoonunknown

@alishii

@kazuko-stuff

@makanirock05

#batfam x reader #batfamily #batfam x y/n #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x s/o #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman #batman x s/o #batman x y/n #batman x you #batman x reader #batmom

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vrystalius · 9 months ago

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Demon king’s heir pt.2

Muzan’s baby boy is not so little anymore. A curious toddler now running around in the halls, causing ruckus and great annoyance to the demon king.

Here’s pt.1!

(Muzan x fem!reader, fluff)

Muzan was standing by his work desk, pouring a mystery liquid from one vial into another. The liquid changed colour rapidly, going from clear to a completely dark purple colour. “Did you catch that?” He glanced down to the little boy standing right beside him, staring at the vials with large and curious eyes. He could barely look over his papa’s tall desk, that’s how small he was. The little boy had one hand tightly gripping Muzan’s dress pants while his other hand was fiddling with his colourful shirt. The boy quietly nodded, glancing up at his papa’s face and awaiting an explanation on what he just saw.

Muzan smiled slightly at him and leaned down, holding the vial with the black liquid in front of his face. “What you just saw is called an Iodine clock reaction….” The boy nodded and took the vial in his hand as he carefully handed it over to his son. “Two colourless solutions are mixed and at first there is no visible reaction. After a short time delay, the liquid suddenly turns to a shade of dark blue due to the formation of an Iodine–starch complex.”

He tried to explain the chemical reaction to his son the easiest way he could, but judging by the look the boy was giving him, he seemingly failed. Muzan sighed and took the vial back into his larger hands. “Let’s do something different, something easier.” His eyes wandered around his laboratory to find something to entertain his son with, when a book about botany caught his eye. “Would you like to look at some plants? Pretty flowers?” Muzan tried to simplify his speech to fit the understanding of a four year old. His son lightened up and started smiling brightly. He still had a tight grip on his dress pants as he started nodding eagerly. “Okay, come. I’ll lift you up.” He leaned down and lifted the boy into his arms, walking him over to the shelf and picked out the botany book.

Muzan knows that you have been watching the interacting between him and his son. You know that he’s still very unsure on how to act around his boy. He married many women with children before and was always good with the kids, but now, now that he has one on his own, he fears that he is actively failing to raise his son.

As a baby, his boy grew scared of his menacing presence. Ever since noticing, you watched Muzan read one parenting book after another. He almost obsessively studied the subject of raising a child. You watched him desperately trying to search for something he and his son are both interested in. It took many tries and a lot of patience from Muzan’s side (wich was incredibly rare to witness) to finally found out that his son likes watching his papa do cool experiments. And now, he’s here, teaching his son about the blue spider lily.

You leaned onto the doorframe, watching your husband show your son a picture of the blue spider lily. Your toddler curiously tried to put the smaller picture into his mouth. A small chuckle escaped your lips as you saw how your husband scolded the boy in his arms. Muzan glanced over his shoulder, looking right at you. He gave you a small smile before turning back to his son. “Mommy is here. Let’s go say hello, hm? Tell her what you learned today.”

💠

Tags: @pandaquick @hanadulsetaad @thigh-o-saur (I’m so sorry if I forgot anyone!!)

I have been thinking about what to write as part 2 for such a long time, I wasn’t even sure if I’m gonna make one. I never planned on doing one in the first place XD. I really really hope it met the expectations though and I really hope you enjoyed reading it <3

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

#💠 house of vry 💠#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #fluff #muzan #muzan x y/n #muzan x you #muzan headcanons #kibutsuji muzan x reader #muzan x reader #demon slayer muzan #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #kimetsu no yaiba muzan

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gr1mstar · 1 year ago

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How Gojo would be in bed 🔞

notes: ok so i'm making it a mini-series about how jjk man would be in bed. you can request someone if you want, i did nanami already here and gojo. i plan to make toji and sukuna too. hope you like it, my first language is not english so if there are any mistakes i'm sorry.

content: gojo satoru x reader | nsfw | 16+ (it's actually 18+ but let's be honest 16 year olds already know a lot of this things) | strong language | established relationship

series masterlist: here

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gojo would probably have a very high sex drive, but because of his busy schedule you two would not have a lot of sex, maybe 3 to 4 times a week. and so, he is a bit sexually frustrated.

FOREPLAY would be long, gojo enjoying to see you begging for his fingers and wanting more. he would also take it very seriously because he cares about you and wants to pleasure you. he would eat you out, making you cum a few times before using his fingers to stretch your pussy out. he likes to see your red face and praise you, saying you are a good girl for taking his fingers so well.

THE ACT would start when he is sure you are ready, positioning himself and entering you slowly. he would be gentle at first, not wanting to hurry things. you were very important to him so he didn't want you to feel that he was using you just for sex. after some time he would start being more rough, using his hands more for feeling every twitch of your body. he would like if you were vocal, your sound being something that reassures him that he is going a great job in making you feel good. you two would try a lot of different positions, him being the reason. from the boring missionary to some weird shit he saw on tiktok. also, you would have sex everywhere in the house: kitchen, bathroom, bedroom - on the counter, on the sofa, in the shower. gojo would know your body better than his, making sure that all your pleasure sports are taken care of and you would have goosebumps all night. also, he would constantly tease you saying that you're all riled up and he hasn't even show you all he can do.

HE IS in love when you ride him, when you are on top and how your boobs bounce up and down with every trust. gojo would also really enjoy eating you out when you are sitting on his face, saying that he likes the warmth. of course, you would complain that you are too heavy, but he would shut you up with “i'm not the strongest for nothing babe”. gojo satoru would be very big on praising you, but in the same time would also have a thing for embarrassing you and seeing you all flustered.

AFTERCARE with satoru would be sweet, him taking you to the bathroom to clean you up, making jokes in between. after that he would dress both of you in your favorite pajamas and watch tv sitting cuddled on the sofa or sleeping right after. you two will gossip about the elders and your job, his students too, eating candy.

OTHER THINGS he would do is phone sex, being away from you often because of his job. and when you are watching a movie and a sex scene comes up he would slide his face in your direction, with the most shit eating grin as he leans in and starts licking your ear, hoping to start something.

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rcvcgers · 3 months ago

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Hello, I wanted to tell you that I love your writing. Rotten Apples has been my favorite. I was wondering if you could write something with a super caring Caleb?

I had a rough night with lots of tears and self doubt, lots of feelings of self hate and a lot of ugly feeling I’ve targeted myself with and I wish I had Caleb to soothe me. My heart aches and I need a hug from him.

i'm so sorry you had a rough night darling :( i hope you were able to feel better! i wrote this for you as soon as i saw your request. i hope it helps you feel better <3

Here For You

pairing: caleb x reader

synopsis: you've isolated yourself from the world and your boyfriend comes to comfort you.

word count: 3.08k words

content warnings: self deprecation, self doubt, bad/negative thoughts

author's note: i hope this request can help whoever reads this feel better <3 just know that you are so, so, so loved and deserve all of the good things in the world!

For the past few days, you’ve unintentionally isolated yourself from from the world. The first day the negative thoughts entered your brain, you acted as if everything was okay, that you were on top of the world. But seeing everybody else’s smiles and hearing their joyous laughter began to weigh down on you.

You wanted to be supportive of your friends and celebrate their achievements, but it was so hard to put a fake smile on your face and pretend to be excited. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but feel so…dull. To feel so dead inside that at moments you doubted that your existence was real. You want to be so happy, to bask in the joy of positive emotions and affirmations, and yet whenever you try, your stupid mind had to drag you back into the darkness.

You used the excuse of being sick to get out of dinner parties and hanging out. You even used a few of your sick days to get off from work, leaving your team scrambling to fill the void of you being gone.

Had life always been so hard? Why couldn’t it give you a break? Even just for one day, you wish to have some kind of release from the depression that has sunk into your body.

It’s not your fault that life is so unforgiving. Things happen, many of which are out of your control, but why did it have to affect you so badly? Did it really need to cause such chaos that uplifts you from acting like a normal person? Fuck, you haven’t even managed to shed a single tear since the negative thoughts hit your mind.

You stare at your bedroom’s blank ceiling. The sun had disappeared from the sky, its once vibrant oranges and pinks decorated your walls and ceiling, but now you were left with a deep gray color with only moonlight illuminating your room.

This had been your routine for the past week. You’d rot in bed, staring out the window as life passed you by. You watched birds flying, their freedom making you even more depressed, and watched as the sun and moon played a game of cat and mouse with each other, chasing after the other as the sky changes colors. Was it a routine you have grown bored of? Yes. Of course. But you couldn’t bring yourself to change out of it.

You wished your boyfriend was here. Caleb always knew what to do and say to help you feel better. You can’t even put some of the blame on him for not being here. His job yanked him away for a last minute patrol in the Deepspace Tunnel.

According to Caleb, it was the Fleet’s first time exploring this part of the Tunnel. You were so proud of him! The Fleet finally recognized his amazing talent and put him as the new supervising Colonel of Deepspace Exploration. He deserved it! He’s worked so hard for an opportunity like this to show up.

Yes, you knew that it would take him away for weeks at a time. If not from the actual exploring itself, Caleb will be buried in paperwork, meetings, and flight schedules.

You should have taken him up on his offer to stay in his apartment in Skyhaven. Maybe then you would have been able to see him during your dark days and he can be the hand that pulls you into safety from the storm. Instead, you opted to stay behind in Linkon, claiming that your friends and work will keep you busy!

If only you knew that the day after he left things would go oh so wrong.

Linkon wasn’t so bad, though. The sunlight was good for your mood instead of the gloomy days that Skyhaven has. The sunlight helped motivate you to get out of bed to brush your teeth and shower, but that was about it.

A sigh leaves your lips. You roll onto your side, your gaze falling back outside the window. Planes fly by in the night sky, leaving off-white trails of exhaust behind them. A wave of sadness hits your stomach while you watch the planes.

A part of you wishes that Caleb is on one of those planes…that he’s coming home to see you.

No. Why would he? He has his new promotion with the Fleet. He can’t waste any time on trivial things…including you.

You flinch from the thought. Squeezing your eyes shut, you curl up into a ball, your knees pulling up to your chest. Why did these thoughts have to torment you? You know that Caleb would give up everything to come see you, so why do you always have to be so anxious that he’s going to leave you?

You know it’s the imposter syndrome talking, but you know that you’re counting the seconds until Caleb realizes that you aren’t worthy of his time, adoration, and love. You’re a semblance of a girlfriend, someone who snuck into such a prestigious position in his life. He deserves so much better than you. Hell, he deserves someone who is just as high of a rank he is! Another Colonel, maybe, or perhaps someone who he works with so he can see her everyday.

“Pipsqueak?” You freeze. The sweet nickname he has for you sends chills down your spine. The bedroom door creaks and the sound of faint footsteps draws near. You are quick to pull the bed’s sheets over your body and head, covering the sight of moonlight and the dark night sky.

The mattress dips and you feel a large hand rest on your side. It travels up and down, cascading the side of your covered body. You shudder from the touch, knowing that you’re unworthy of such affection.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Caleb asks. He reaches for the top of the sheets, drawing them away from your face. You feel the chilled air of the bedroom hit your face. You flinch and grab the sheets back from him, covering your face once again. “Hey…what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“I’m fine…I’m just really tired,” while it isn’t necessarily a lie, you know it’s simply an excuse that he’ll see right through as he usually does. You listen to his slow exhale,, heart pounding inside your chest.

This is it. This is the moment where he finally realizes how much of a loser your are. You can’t even bring yourself to fully greet him when he comes home from work, what kind of partner are you?

“I’m,” you fake a cough, “I’m sick.”

“You’re sick?” Caleb repeats. Your heart twists inside your chest. Your eyes sting from the turmoil that bubbles inside your stomach.

“Y-Yeah…you should go back to Skyhaven so you don’t catch anything.”

You hated how easy it is to lie to him. To push him away from you.

Caleb doesn’t respond. Goosebumps spread across your body, suddenly feeling cold as you sick and twisted imagination slowly turns into a reality.

Did he finally realize that you’re nothing more than a nuisance to him?

“Hey…look at me,” Caleb coos. Your grip weakens on the sheets. The fabric slips through your fingers, eyes watching as the moonlight returns to your gaze, your handsome boyfriend sitting beside you with a look of worry, brows knitted together, bottom lip slightly pouted out.

Your heart breaks. It shatters into a million little pieces. It’s because if you that he looks this way, that he’s probably worried over nothing. Tears brim your eyes. Caleb sighs and his shoulders relax, watching as you slowly sit up in bed.

You sniffle and wipe your nose with the back of your hand. Your bottom lip trembles. The man reaches out and cups your face.

His touch is so gentle against your skin. Warmth seeps into your skin but it only makes you feel worse. Your body begins to shake. Caleb’s violet eyes scan your body, gently wrapping his free arm around your back. He pulls you into his lap with such ease, guiding your legs to rest on his sides, placing your full weight onto him.

Your melt into his touch, arms wrapping around sides, fingers curling into his shirt, tugging on the material. You bury your face into his neck, the tears finally leaving your eyes.

“It’s okay…I’m here now, let it all out.”

And you do. Sobs escape your body. Your body shakes and you push into him, the man gently running his hand up and down your back, soothing you. He holds the back of your head, securing you to his body. Your tears stain his t-shirt, soaking it with your salty tears.

You shake your head, unable to control how tight you hold onto him. His scent is so comforting to you, your nose burying into the warm skin of his neck to get more of it. It calms your nerves alongside his light and comforting touch.

“I’m so sorry,” you choke the words out, “I don’t know why I’m like this.”

“Never apologize for how you feel, my love,” Caleb gives you a gentle and reassuring squeeze. You sigh and peel your face from his neck, finally getting a good look of him.

He wears the biggest frown on his face as he pushes stray hairs out of your face. Your cheeks are stained form your tears, eyes red and swollen form the onslaught of sibs that overtook your body. Caleb runs his fingers up and down your sides.

“Breathe with me, okay?” Caleb asks. You nod in sync with him. He places his hand over your chest, feeling your heart pounding from inside your ribcage.

The two of you inhale for a couple seconds then hold the breath, your lungs full of oxygen, then slowly exhale. Under Caleb’s touch, he can feel your heart come to a slow and steady beat. A small smile spreads across his face, his purple eyes meeting yours.

“I’m so proud of you,” Caleb whispers. He leans in and presses a light kiss to your forehead. You sigh and rest your hands on his chest, flattening out some of the wrinkles in the fabric. You stare at the wet spot on his clothes and frown, feeling absolutely horrible that you ruined his clothes. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Your gaze floats back to his, his hands firmly holding onto your waist. You sigh and look away, unable to weave words together to form a rational sentence that doesn’t make you look, well, crazy.

How can you explain to your boyfriend that your mind has caused so much chaos and turmoil? That it has you believing that you aren’t good enough for anyone in the world, especially him. That he deserves so much better than what you have to offer him.

“Hey,” Caleb’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. He cups your cheek and swipes away a single tear that rolls down your cheek. “Stop thinking. Clear your mind.”

You nod and slowly inhale, needing to calm down your fast beating heart. Your mind doesn’t clear, though, and only becomes more and more loud as the thoughts of self doubt and negativity scream at you.

“What are five things you see?” Caleb asks.

“What?” You’re taken aback by his question. He squeezes your hips.

“Tell me five things you see. Be descriptive.”

“Um…okay,” you breathe out. Your eyes leave his as you scan the room. You turn in his grip, looking out the window behind you. “I see the moon. It’s big and yellow tonight. Looks like cheese.”

“That’s one.” You feel Caleb press a gentle kiss to your shoulder. You turn back around, heart fluttering.

“I see my desk. It’s…really messy. I should clean it up.”

“That’s two…and I’ll clean it for you tomorrow. What else?”

“Through the bedroom door, I can see the kitchen light is still on. I see…I see bags on the counter, too.” You look at Caleb, his thumbs slowly rubbing small circles into your skin under your shirt. “I see the most beautiful purple eyes, too.”

“Oh?” Caleb raises his eyebrows, smiling at you. You nod. He kisses your cheek and you melt into him yet again. “Ready to tell me what’s wrong now?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong, Caleb,” you breathe out, slowly growing frustrated. You press your forehead against his and squeeze his shoulders. “My mind just…hates me. I don’t know what happened, but an overwhelming sense of dread came over me and…and I began to hate myself,” your voice cracks.

Tears return to your eyes and Caleb is quick to wipe them away. You manage to keep your breathing in check, making sure to not lose the sense of calm that soothes your aching body. Your glaze flickers back to Caleb’s and you sigh, gnawing at the inside of your cheek.

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” your voice is just above a whisper. “You don’t deserve to go through this…you deserve someone who’s normal and good enough.”

“No,” Caleb immediately shakes his head. His own eyes become glossy from your admission. “Don’t you ever say those words ever again, do you understand?”

Your brows furrow, meeting in the center. Your hands slip from his body but he takes them back, placing them back onto his chest. He moves his head to meet your fleeting gaze, capturing your attention. He places his finger under your chin, turning your face back forward.

“I love you…I love you so much more than you can ever imagine. If anyone here isn’t deserving, it’s me. I don’t deserve to be in a relationship with you because you, my love, are lightyears better than I will ever be.”

“Caleb…” you breathe his name out. You hang onto every word he says, heart swelling.

“You are the most beautiful woman to ever exist. I love your smile, your laugh, and the way you always make me happy. I also love you when you aren’t feeling good. I love you and your frown and the way you manage to look so beautiful while crying…you’re the one for me. Nobody else,” he pulls your hand over his heart. You can feel just how hard and fast it pumps inside his chest.

“You don’t mean that…”

“Of course I do. From the first moment I met you, I knew that you were the one for me. On that day, I swore to myself that I would do everything in my power to protect you, to keep you safe…it pains me to know that I couldn’t protect you from yourself. I’m so sorry,” his voice cracks.

His grip on you tightens. His touch and words are so reassuring that you manage to push away the dark thoughts that linger in your mind.

Caleb loves you. He loves you so much. It is evident in the way he holds you, the way he kisses your tears away. You can feel it in the warmth that radiates from his body. Caleb makes you feel so worthy of his love, his adoration.

“Everyone has bad days,” he tilts his head to the side, his gaze deepening, “and that’s okay. It’s normal to have a bad week. It’s normal to want to crawl away and disappear. It’s okay to cry and to ask for help when it feels like you’re drowning,” Caleb coos. “Please…please tell me when you need help. I will always be here to pick you up off your feet. I will always be here to carry the weight that forms on your shoulders. I will do anything for you if it means that I get to see you smile again…that I get to live under the sunlight of your beautiful soul. I love you.”

“I love you too, Caleb,” tears roll down your cheeks. They’re bittersweet, formed from both sadness and joy.

The darkness that settled in the back of your mind vanishes. You can feel the weight leave your chest, opening up your lungs for more air to get in, to nourish your body. Caleb pulls you close to him, burying his face into your neck. His lips scrape across your skin, leaving a trail of sweet and gentle kisses in his wake.

His fingers slip under your shirt. The sensation of his skin against yours leaves you feeling so fulfilled. You love the way he treats you, how he always makes for sure that you know just how loved you are. He takes care of you. It’s so much more than you could have ever asked for.

What did you do to deserve a man like Caleb?

“Have you eaten yet today?” Caleb asks. You shake your head no, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer into your embrace. “Come on, I stopped at the store on the way here. Let me make you some dinner.”

Caleb picks you up with ease. You gasp and cling to him, a quiet laugh escaping your lips. His head shoots out from your neck, eyes wide as a big smile flashes across his face.

“You laughed!” He swoons, leaning back in to attack your face in more kisses, leaving no part of your face untouched. You close your eyes and shriek, more and more giggles fleeing from your lips while he carries you to the kitchen. “My pip-squeak is laughing! She’s happy again! My babygirl has come back to me!”

“Stop being do dramatic, Caleb!” Your laughter melts away the sadness in your heart and mind. You feel light again, ready to take on the world with Caleb at your side.

“Okay! Okay!” He laughs and pulls his face out from your neck. Caleb beams at you, setting you down on the cold countertop. You gasp and he’s quick to pull you up, resting his hands underneath your legs to protect you from the icy counter.

“What?” You ask, waving your hand in front of his face. He shifts his weight between his feet and leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips. You lean into him and kiss him back, butterflies erupting your chest. He slightly pulls away, lips grazing over yours, foreheads pressed together.

“I love you, pip-squeak, but I am going to need my hands for cooking,” he chuckles.

“I love you too...can I be your sous chef?”

“Are you kidding? Of course you can be my sous chef! Who else would I want by my side?”

masterlist of works

#lads caleb #caleb x reader #caleb love and deepspace #lads #love and deepspace #rcvcgers requests #rcvcgers writings

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