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mochikeiji · 3 years

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Request: "For your event can I have my bby, Inumaki Toge (sorry for being so predictable) and prompts 50 and 6 🥺👉👈"

50. "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you"

6. "No, don't cover your smile"

↠ Pairing: Inumaki Toge x F!Reader

↠ Warning: mini make out session in the end, mostly fluffy soft times, italicized fonts are Inumaki's lines through texts

↬ Word Count: 1.3k

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event

As much as you find the certain white haired but quiet ball of sunshine, there was one thing that sometimes bothered you. It wasn't major— Inumaki was alright as he is now. If not, perfect you would say. The only thing you don't comprehend is that he kept wearing that long sleeved, collar that reached his mouth. Even you find your annoying teacher was wearing the same thing as your boyfriend after yelling hysterically how he's found his long lost twin while poor Inumaki was dragged out of the blue.

You get it's for hiding the tattoos on the corners of his lips. Maybe there was more to it, but Inumaki wrote it on a paper; a way of communicating, that it wasn't at all that sacred or anything to hide. He just grew fond of hiding his mouth for a long period of time. Though he admits it does kind of make him insecure of the times people saw him in person while walking down the streets with a normal attire. All you could ever have in order to read his emotions were his eyes. There were moments you'd catch a peek of his full features during missions. But it hasn't even reached a minute or so he's already hidden himself like a turtle.

Staring longer at him while laying down on bed bored, it dawned to you how you've never caught on what he'd look like if he smiles underneath that suit he wore. This made you tempted to zip down the little zipper in display, but you know better than to pry in his comfort zone. But oh, can you imagine, just a cute kitten like smile. Or even a pout when he's clinging onto your waist during mornings for more over time cuddles. You needed to see that.

"Hey, Toge."

Fingers tugging down the hem of his suit, Inumaki's attention drifts off of his phone from what Yuta was sending and peered at you, "Shake?" he starts, fiddling with your fingers with his. He does this a lot even in public, so intrigued at how much it has an affect to make his insides all giddy and warm from the playful gesture.

"Can I please see you?"

He snorts a little as he types something on his phone. Lucky you, yours happened to be right next to you. The screen lightening, pinging a notification coming from him,

You already are, you dummy.

Inumaki chuckles a bit when he earned himself a pout and a huff from you. Pinching your cheeks gently in a way of saying sorry and waits for you to explain, "I mean, I want to see you. You know," widening your palm a bit, facing it near your own mouth and began waving up and down at him. "Without the thingy in the way."

He messages again,

Thingy? Really? Aren't you cute.

Sitting up from your position, you waddled closer to his body. Inumaki shifts himself to sit comfortably at the edge of the bed for you to settle yourself on his lap. His hands roamed for a good seconds behind your back, occasionally trying to be sneaky once he's reached a bit lower, but settles nonetheless on your hips.

"I wanna see you smile." while playing with the dangling zipper, "I've never really seen you take this off whenever we're together. Don't get me wrong! It's not ugly! I just, you know."

It startled you when he coos quietly. Squinting his eyes and booping your nose softly. If you weren't mistaken, did he just wiggled himself? He resumes to typing once again something quickly and flashes his screen towards you.

You're just precious.

But I'm not gonna do it.

Kind of bummed from what he said. Then again worried you may have been pushing him on, but then you see his index scroll up from his notepad to reveal the other, large bolded text underneath his last reply,

You do it for me.

"Are you sure? I don't mean to sound pushy."

He types again,

You're not. It's nice to hear that someone can't resist my charms.

Gasping dramatically, you slapped his chest with the back of your hand softly. His shoulders jolting from stifled laughter before grabbing your wrist up to the zipper. It was stupid to have your breath held in. What can you say, it was anticipating really. Giving you a firm nod that it was very much okay for him, you slowly zipped down the collar to unravel half of his face. Your smile was wobbly from failing to hide the embarrassment, more now because he kept arching his brows as if he was teasing you.

When it came to a stop at his chest, your hand automatically reaches out for his jaw. Thumb tracing over the swirly marks now that it was up close and woah, do you want to know if he uses some kind of lip balm or lip gloss. They were so pretty! Probably near as the blubbering blindfolded male.

If you could only see yourself so dazed at him, like any other guy, the corners of his lips rose a tiny bit from all the attention he was gaining from you. He could feel his naked soul burn from the sparkles of admiration through your eyes as you stared at him agape, "You're really handsome."

And like any other guy, to be called handsome hasn't occurred in his book until now. Of course, it's a bit more different if someone you love says it, right? Suddenly feeling quite hot underneath your gaze and comment, his fingers threaded through his bangs to push away from his sweaty forehead. Looking away when he feels the blood in his face circulate to paint his cheeks.

No different than he is, you quickly slapped a palm on your mouth, "I-I mean, you're always handsome! It's just, wow." unable to keep your eyes out of his face, so close you could count the lashes on his eyes, "You're wow. Like, wow. You're with me?"

Couldn't you stop already? It's not often he gets someone praising him. It's always Maki and Yuta that gets the spotlight, occasionally Panda if he's down in the dumps. But couldn't you tell by the way he's suddenly the one who's nervous because of you? It felt too good to hear, he had to gulp down the butterflies that were prying his lips into a large grin. Boy, does he want to hide himself as he lowered his hand from holding his bangs up to cup his mouth. Upon witnessing that, you shake your head with a smile,

"No, don't cover your smile." pinning his hand down, planted on his sides as you leaned closer, "I love your smile."

Nothing but pure sincerity came out from you. What choice does he have to deny you when the reason why he can't even contain himself from smiling was because of you? Shyly tapping on his revealed chest random patterns and scanning each part your eyes could reach, he takes advantage of the closeness you two shared just by the lips. Squeaking between the kisses, his arms circles to your middle to pull you in deeper, your hands acting as a support that held onto his shoulders. Unlike the quick pecks that go by in a flash, he savors this one the most knowing he's got nothing to hide from anything or anyone. No one would've guessed he'd kiss as if it was full of raw, hungry emotions.

Even when you pull away to breathe, he still sneaks more littered kisses on your lips until he was satisfied witha goofy smile on his flushed face. Fumbling to grab his phone open for the prepared text he's put in earlier and pushing it between your faces, "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you."

"You planned this from the start didn't you, you jerk." scoffing playfully to mask your own lovey dovey state from floating to the clouds. He shows you another text briefly before throwing his phone out of the way, resuming back to business in a more intimate position feeling himself become in much need.

Take less, more kisses, cutie.

#inumaki to/ge fluff #inumaki to/ge imagines #inumaki to/ge x reader #inumaki to/ge x y/n #inumaki x y/n #inumaki scenarios #inumaki imagines #inumaki x reader #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #jjk inumaki #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #raines: gogatsu event

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orange-plum · 3 years

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So I was commissioned by @andrastesassets to write about the scene in “Satan and Me” where Satan gives his wings away for Natalie, but from his POV. This was kinda a big turning point as a wake-up call in the series for him, as you’re probably aware if you’ve read past that point and seen him be more open with his feelings and such. Anyway, it was a fun little thing to explore (yes, this is canon thoughts of his). I never expected to be commissioned to explore deeper into a canon of my stories that hasn’t been put into words before with the images alone of the updates, but I’m def open to that in the future!

Without further ado, here you go.

The looming presence behind him paled in comparison to the disorienting lurch his stomach gave as he kneeled on the unwelcoming cement floor. Keeping his gaze down, concentrating on the little tremors of his arms holding him upright, Satan struggled to properly see through the fog of stress clouding his mind. Clouding his judgement.

Fuck, this wasn’t the right thing to do, was it? Was he being too hasty? Should he spring up and sprint out the door before he followed through with something he couldn’t come back from? This was definitely one of his more impulsive and reckless decisions he’d ever committed to. Nothing could truly be worth this kind of –

Satan’s hand twitched, starting to rise as nerves got the best of him, when a blur of orange and maroon hovered on the edge of his peripheral. For a brief moment, he found himself vaguely wondering what the smudge of color was in the expanse of drab brown walls and muted trim.

Reality came crashing against him like an unforgiving tide for what seemed like the tenth time this morning. Sweat gathered at the base of his neck and he swallowed.

Satan returned his palm flat against the cement, locking his joints and muscles into place so that he would not stand up. His stomach did another discombobulated lurch.

Right. This was for Natalie. Natalie, who had no right looking so gray, Father, she was like a corpse.

She is a corpse! His mind howled the confirmation at him, leaving his breaths shallow in his welling panic.

Yes, that was true. It had been true for hours now, yet, somehow, the complete depth of what that really entailed eluded him in his denial. How could she be dead when she had talked to him only moments ago? Human’s lives had always felt fleeting, but had any ever felt quite this temporary before?

Less than a year they had been together . . . How had she burrowed this deeply under his skin? When? Satan tried to conjure a memory to pinpoint the exact moment Natalie had become a constant in his life as he bore his back to Death and Pestilence. In the end, it was fruitless. Between his ears remained endless static.

The tension in the air was suffocating. His arms trembled, but he kept his jaw clenched.

He would give them no further satisfaction when taking the last bit of value he still possessed of his former self. They would not see him fall apart at their feet. That could come later, when left in the privacy of this cold, dreary room, where he could lick his wounds and recover in peace.

He was still Lucifer, the Morning Star and omen of destruction to all who opposed him, wings or not.

But, fuck . . . Father, he would prefer to keep his wings.

Somehow, boneless and lightheaded from the trauma of the morning, Satan noticed, with a small sense of intrigue, that his back actually felt heavier now that it was empty. How was that possible?

The long gashes where the trunks had been swiftly carved open spewed boiling trails of lava down his skin, soaking into the hem of his robe and pooling Great Lakes onto the floor. Energy had left in his limbs the moment the numbing kiss of Death’s blade breached his muscles.

On wobbling legs, Satan rose in his shock and joined Natalie at her side. He carefully reached toward her, gliding the tips of his fingers against her ashen cheek, almost afraid to touch, because she looked exactly the same. What the hell? She looked no different than when she had been splayed out like a weathered ragdoll amongst her bedsheets at sunrise, goddamnit.

Before he could garner enough strength to turn on his company and spew venom and vitriol from his lips, Satan froze. Warmth wafted over his fingers under her nose as he lowered his hand. Closer inspection revealed the gentle rise and fall of her chest. The nauseating cramping in his stomach abated so suddenly, he almost keeled over right then and there.

“Give it a few minutes,” Death commented over his shoulder, as if reading his mind. There was no longer a smile in his voice, his face a neutral mask as Satan glanced at him with gritted teeth, the sight of his former pride being folded up and collected like loose laundry too much to bear. “It takes a little while for a soul to acclimate into their body after death. I assure you, her color and liveliness will rekindle when she wakes up.”

Through the haze, Satan vaguely realized he must’ve been making some type of suspicious face when Death suddenly snorted and shook his head, his eyes gleaming. “For all we’ve been acquainted, Lucifer, you should know I’m not one to break my word. Give my regards to little Natalie when she rejoins the land of the living, won’t you. As always, it’s been a pleasure. I look forward to seeing you and your brother again when the time comes for your big day.”

With the room empty, peppered only with the soft sounds of Natalie’s breaths and the distant echoes of Death’s laughter down the desolate hallway, the elephant in the room was no longer avoidable. Satan slumped against a wall, transfixed by the rise and fall of the chest beside him. Even more so as the rosiness began to fill Natalie’s cheeks the longer she breathed life into her form.

His previous adrenaline had left him a hollow puppet, now that there was no longer the turbulent cocktail of anxiety and doubt weighing on his shoulders. Satan allowed himself to drift to the floor, lying beside the only person he had ever met who had compelled him to do something so utterly foolish. Jesus, her daredevil stunts to ground him at his lowest points seemed to have rubbed off on him, and likely not for the better.

Satan’s wounds throbbed at the edges, a constant reminder of the magnitude of what he had just done.

Don’t think about it, his mind lethargically reminded. What’s done is done, so don’t start regretting it now.

“Prophecy child, huh . . . ” Satan muttered, his arm leveraged under his head like a makeshift pillow. The light cascading through the windows almost seemed to light up Natalie’s hair in its luminescence. Amongst the carnage splattered around them from his sacrifice, she was ethereal and without blemish.

He had found out about the Child of Prophecy by chance, becoming enraged at the notion of being kept in the dark so late in the game. Natalie’s existence had changed from an everyday annoyance to one of unbearable burden.

She had the power to sway him? To sway his empire and everything he worked for? A being like that, who would steal his autonomy or cast him spellbound, was too dangerous to fraternize with. There was just too much on the line to risk throwing away for some goofy, loud-mouthed human without an ounce of self-preservation.

And so Satan had done the only logical thing he could think of at the time: He ran away, leaving her with that pitiful, crumpled face as he rejected her in that inconsequential Oregon town. The less time he spent with her, the better off he’d be.

Only . . . That had not played out as he’d hoped. Watching Natalie disappear over the side of a bridge had been like a bolt of electricity coursing through his body. That she would see him as the monster that he was, a grotesque monstrosity that even Michael had recoiled from, and attempt to help him, regardless? Well . . . Perhaps there was more to Natalie McAllister than he had originally considered. He’d cradled her close and winced while he repaid her kindness by accidentally boiling her alive.

Oregon was a wake-up call.

Natalie had piqued his curiosity, her smiling reassurance that she didn’t befriend monsters jumpstarting the heart in his chest that he had presumed stopped functioning centuries ago. Not only that, but he had no way of knowing he would soon find out that running toward the very man attacking her and her cowardly little friend, despite the blatant terror in her eyes, was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Oh,” Satan muttered, something foreign flooding into his chest, emotion catching in his throat as he stared at Natalie’s slumbering form.

Silencing Hell for him at the cost of her soul . . .

Calling him her guardian angel. Crying, not for fear of Hell, but for fear of being separated from his company . . .

As much as he wanted to deny it, the fondness in Natalie’s eyes as she smiled at him was undoubtedly genuine. She really did seem to look at him like he hung the stars above her head.

“I love you, Lucifer. I’m glad I got to meet someone like you.”

Satan trembled, unable to properly sort through the sensations overflowing from his chest as Natalie’s eyelashes began to flutter. Champagne bubbles tickled his stomach, and though not required to breathe to live, he felt so remarkably breathless at once.

So that’s what this is, Satan distantly thought, watching pale eyelashes finally parting to reveal a cognizant gaze, blinking against the trickle of sunlight warming her cheeks. When meeting Natalie’s eyes, he couldn’t keep the smile of relief from his face.

Satan understood that he had never experienced this before, but he somehow knew what to latch onto in his jumbled mind with unquestionable conviction.

I love her.

#satan and me #writing #its not technically but im going to tag it #fanfiction #writing commission #commission #andrastesassets

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

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Alright. Let me say something though. All of you thought on kid Kai. But takes this: BABY KAI :O!!!! If is not a bother I would like a scenario of that x3 just Kai being hitted by a baby quirk and he is like those grumpy babies who are fussy over on someone else's hold BUT on his S/o he is a quiet and kinda cute(???), just him searching for her nose and touching her while muttering some incoherents words and OH GOSH SO CUTE-

Oh well seems like much of you like to see kid kai now this is about babies? Alright then

Your eyes were wide open, the same went for your poor jaw that seemed like it was going to break at any second as you shamelessly pointed at Mimic holding a squirming baby away from him as Kurono pinched his jaw and winced when he wiped a drool of blood coming out of it.

"Don't ask." Mimic muttered as he winced at another one of the baby's whimpers.

"How?!" You accidentaly screamed and the two man winced a bit as Mimic yelled 'What the fuck did I just say?!' Before cursing out loud when the baby bites his hand.

"Quirks (Y/n). Quirks." Kurono hissed before furrowing his eyebrows at the toddler on Mimic's arms whose was persistent as ever to not lose a fight "The boss's from the another yakusa had a brat on their own, and the kid developed her quirk a week ago aparently and thought it would be funny to use on Chisaki, and well.."

"There. A brat." Mimic completed while almost dropping Chisaki on the ground when he shriek again.

"Please tell me this isn't permanent..." you whispered in awe, your words not exactly connecting with the way you stared at the baby version of Chisaki, squirming and fighting still on Mimic's grip with the most grumpy and cute look and pout you ever saw.

"Hold still brat!" Mimic hissed out loud and Kai seemed to stop immediately at that "You might be my boss but for fuck's sake!"

A sniffle or two was enough for all of the room to shut up immediately. Even Chrono widened his eyes and seemed at panick.

After all, the only one on the yakusa who had even a vague experience with toddlers and babies was Pops. And well... no one was ever going to interrupt the old man's resting neither receive a scolding.

The sniffles were getting more frequent but even as a baby, Kai seemed to at least hold back the tears stubbornly as the three adults panicked.

"BLoCk HeAd Do SomEthINg!!!!" Mimic shouted in despair as Chrono looked at him with wide grey eyes.

"Do I look like I know what to do?!"

"YoU ArE hIs ChIldHooD FucKinG FriEnD BitCh-!"

"Stop yelling! Thiis is not helping the slightest!" You tried to calm them both down but the sounds of sniffles lowered a bit and the three of you also quiet down to look at the golden eyed toddler who had locked his gaze at you.

"Chisaki?" Kurono muttered as Irinaka shook him a bit up and down before using out Chrono for punching him on the back of his head.

You finally payed attention to the baby version of him. The clothes he was wearing aparently had also decreased, and you had to admit that the small yet a little too big purple feathered jacket on Kai was just too cute to handle.

"Seems to like you." Chrono muttered more in sarcasm before widening his eyes when Kai WHINED and made grabby hands at you.

"Welp, all yours!." Mimic suddenly handed Kai to you without even sparing your poor self to understand what was going on. Both of you and Chrono stiffed your bodies in fear of anything to happen; but instead Kai just fisted his tiny hands on your clothing and looked at you, not even moving around like he was one second ago on Mimic's grip.

"My would you look at that." Hari said in sarcasm but also a hint of amusement as crossing his arms and staring at you both with a half smirk.

"My break time fuckers. Good luck" Mimic sighed, walking around and mumbling how much he needed a coffee.

"So... what do I do now?" You asked in despair before tensing when you felt the brush of Kai's little fingers on your collarbone.

"Have no idea. Let's just wait until the effect goes away I guess." Hari took a couple of steps towards you and Kai growled cutely and you almost let out a coo pf how adorable he sounded "But let's evit Pops with him like this, just for his own pride to not get hurted, right pal?" He smirked at how the baby glared at him and clinged to your neck.

"Okay... but-oh!" You noticed how Kai was now looking at you and holding out his two hands in both of your cheeks with a quizzical look on his baby face, like he was analyzing it.

"Kurono-kun what do I do?" You whispered and glared at the white haired man when he snorted and smirked.

Giggles left both of you CHOCKED, especially when you looked at your front and saw a smiley baby Kai whose was with one hand in your cheek and the other one in your nose.

"Whaaaaaaaa??????" You said in a goofy open smile as Chrono rubbed his eyes to see if he hasn't gotten crazy or anything related.

"And here I thought that he was just born being an ass would you look at that." He smirked as you giggle along with the baby in your arms.

A whole evening passed and now you an sleeping baby Kai on your lap, cuddled up on your chest as you ran your fi gers through his dark brow looks and chubby face.

"The boss from the other yakusa said that the effect will be gone in one or two hours." Kurono sighed from the other couch as he dropped his cellphone on his side "At least with you he got quiet."

'And I got finally the baby pictures I always wanted of him!' You thought in eargness as you took one more of Kai on that position he was.

He was going to kill you... at least you would die in happiness.

"Well would you look at that." A voice shook you and Kurono, the said man cursing to himself as he saw Pops smirking at the sign of you and Kai on the couch.

"Oh well, I tried to save your dignity Kai." The man muttered as the baby tilted his head with sleepy eyes before sighing and nuzzling on your chest again.

"I will give you one more warning." Kai growled threateningly as he caged you on the hall, golden eyes staring down at you in pure anger but his ears flushed red in embarrassment due to the events of yesterday.

"I swear I have no more." You lied as Kai growled.

"Dont you dare lie to my face (L/n) (Y/n)."

"You know? You were much more giggly as a baby." His right eye twitched and went to punch the wall if it wasn't for your quick movement of lowering his mask down and kissing him. Catching the man by surprise before running off laughing at your victory.

"I swear to god come back here this instant-!"

"Kai my boy gotta say, now the album I have of you is complete" the elder said in a glorious tone as he took one last look at the photos on his hands as he passed by.

While Chisaki was this close to smashing his face on a wall.

#overhaul x reader #overhaul chisaki kai #overhaul imagine #overhaul scenario #overhaul #chisaki kai x reader #bnha chisaki #chisaki kai #bnha #bnha fanfiction #my writings #zuffer writings

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alice-dont-break · 3 years

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checking | janthony one shot

Jasmine's heart wasn't racing, but rather beating slow and heavy in her chest, a steady thumping to remind her of the weight she carried. She could tell herself her fears were stupid or irrational, but that only served to amplify her frustration. She couldn't shake the obsessive thoughts that gnawed at her relentlessly, so she'd just have to sit with them for now, fingers drumming repeatedly over the back of her phone.

Watching Anthony's leaden breaths was the best reminder that tranquility was still possible. He looked so peaceful, so unworried, so content, and she just wished she could fold herself into his shelter. She yearned to lift the arm that rested heavy on the mattress, slightly outstretched as if searching for the body it usually held secure, and lay it over her rigid midsection. Every inch of her was tense, and while she knew her husband's touch could unbind her, she couldn't bear to wake him. These thoughts were too ridiculous to be worth his time, she thought, and she'd hate to disturb such a peaceful-looking sleep for her childishness. But luckily, all her stressful energy, or perhaps some invisible power of their bond, did the job for her.

"Whatchu still doing up, baby?" Anthony grumbled, rubbing at his tired eyes. He rolled onto his side to face Jasmine, who was propped up against the headboard scrolling through her phone. He didn't know exactly what time it was, but he did know that when he rolled over in the night, he'd expected to find her fast asleep.

"Go back to bed, love," she cooed, reaching over to comb through his tousled curls. Her mind was protesting against the words she forced from her lips, but her hushed tone concealed the stress of conflict in her voice. She looked over to him with soft eyes, letting the genuine adoration of his sleepy and disheveled appearance mask her underlying anxiety.

Regardless, the non-answer concerned Anthony enough to draw him out of his groggy state. He looked over at the alarm clock and found it was nearly three in the morning, so he sat up and shifted towards his wife. "Jas, what's going on?" He asked softly, sweeping a curl behind her ear so he could capture her gaze and study her expression. "Trouble sleeping?" His hand came to rest on the top of her shoulder, where he kneaded her taut muscles.

"Not really," she mumbled, "just haven't tried." Her eyes broke away from his, dropping to her lap while her fingers twisted and tugged at the sheets.

Anthony noticed her fidgeting and reached over to slip his hand into her restless one. He squeezed her palm gently until he felt the tension dissipate, then rubbed his thumb carefully over each knuckle. "It's late, Jas, d'you wanna tell me what's keeping that beautiful mind so busy?"

Jasmine grappled with whether to admit her silent battle, until she met Anthony's eyes. They had widened but they weren't strained; they were just locked on her with a quiet concern that showed her she was safe and welcome, and compelled her to let him in. "I'm trying not to go check the stove," she muttered.

"Oh, babe, you don't have to worry," he frowned, "I checked it before I came up." His pitch escalated along with his worry. He knew whatever was keeping her up wasn't as simple as his response implied.

"I know. We didn't even use it today because we had salads and then ate out for dinner, and we haven't used it since yesterday and I checked it yesterday so there's no way it's on," she rattled off, as if the schedule for using their stove was imprinted on her mind. It may as well have been.

"Baby, is this...? I thought the meds - "

"I know, I'm sorry," she cut him off with a deep sigh. Her eyes fell to her lap again, sunken and clouded. "I haven't been good about telling you what's gone on at my appointments..."

Anthony shook his head sharply before looking over to find the shame that squeezed up her shoulders into hunches. "Don't have to apologize Jas. You dont owe me any explanations. All I wanna know is if there's a way I can be taking better care of you." His last few words lightened, as he looked over to catch her heavy-lidded eyes.

Her jaw relaxed into a sad smile, before tentatively giving a slight nod. He reciprocated though just barely, as if offering a safe place for her to speak if she wanted, but imposing no expectations. Blinking away the haze, she inhaled a trembled, hollow breath. "With us trying and all, I've been talking to my therapist about weaning off the meds because they aren't super safe during a pregnancy, which means a lot more of other methods of treatment. So we lowered my dosage a little and I'm just supposed to make it a little longer every night without checking."

Jasmine's obsessive-compulsive disorder had been mostly kept at bay over the past few years by a combination of therapy and medication, but he recalled many sleepless nights from when it was more prevalent. He remembered the pit that would fall in his stomach whenever he would wake to the mattress sinking beside him, signaling she was back from checking the door lock or the stove. He, like most people would, first envisioned meticulous cleaning and organizing when she first told him about her diagnosis, but soon he learned that was only one possible manifestation.

For Jasmine, compulsions were a need to go check something that she simply couldn't shake. The obsessive thoughts would barrel through her mind with no regard for rational thinking. It didn't matter how many times she'd dragged herself out of bed to go check already, or how desperate she was to sleep; the thoughts and the anxiety that always tagged along wouldn't go away until she got up. The anguish grated against Anthony's heart even as a bystander. For so long, there was nothing either of them could do to fight back, but after weeks and then months of treatment that started to change. Every night that passed, even the ones that were far from perfect, had Anthony growing more and more proud of his girl. He knew he was watching her endure something that would at times feel excruciating, so the least he could do was be by her side. Tonight would be no different.

Anthony pushed against the mattress to sit up, and leaned back against the headboard with his arm outstretched. "How much longer we got?"

"Ant, you don't have t-"

"I know," he said firmly, "but I don't want you sitting and stewing all on your own." He reached over to love on her, tenderly holding her opposite cheek as he began to paint every inch of the side of her face with soft, slow kisses.

"It's just another hour and a bit. I just need to get through it... it's gonna suck but then tomorrow maybe it'll be easier..." Jasmine trailed off as her eyes fell back to her lap. She soaked in the warmth of his lips for one more breath, then tilted her head away to shake off his grasp. "It's stupid, babe. The point is you should go back to sleep." Her hand softened in his as she tried to pull back, but he redoubled his grip. His spare hand moved to cradle her chin again and his thumb brushed over her cheek in soothing half circles.

"You can argue all you want baby, but I'm staying up with you. Now are you going to leave me hanging, or curl up into this awfully inviting arm and cuddle me?" He wiggled his shoulder with a goofy smile, letting her arm flop around as he held her hand tightly.

Jasmine squeezed her eyes shut, but relented as a giggle tumbled from her pursed lips. She couldn't resist the way his eyes softened through his laugh, saying more than his snarky words ever could. With a final roll of her eyes, she released his hand and curled into his side. Her head found a pillow in his chest while she was enveloped in the warmth of two protective arms around her. He knew from practice exactly how tight to squeeze so she felt secure but not trapped, and quickly the tension in her shoulders seeped away. She nuzzled against his t-shirt to inch just a little closer, as his fingers delved into the curls that tickled his chin. The thumping of his heart coaxed her to melt just a little deeper into his arms, as his nails grazed her scalp in calming strokes.

His lips affixed to her forehead with careful attention, pressing and relaxing every few seconds. They weren't distinct kisses, as Anthony couldn't bear the thought of space between them, but rather one long transfer of the warmth and protection he wanted to seclude them in. Her eyes were squeezed shut with little creases spurting out from the outer corners, as she tried to focus on all his sweet touches while blocking out all the distractions and intrusive thoughts that threatened to disturb their peaceful little bubble. Every second she melted further and further into the embrace, letting the easy feelings of warmth and safety crowd out the obsessions that had been hoarding her energy.

Even as Jasmine started to settle, she still had nervous energy vibrating through her body. Needing an outlet, she started tracing little circles, mindless drawings, around Anthony's chest. It was an easy way to fidget; just small movements that she could keep up without shifting from the cocoon formed around her of Anthony's arms. After a while she realized it was a familiar pattern, essentially the same thing she did when she was on her own, but it felt so much safer. Whenever Jasmine needed to expel some tension on her own, she'd use her fingertips to write words on her thighs. She would silently come up with lists of absolutely anything, to let her mind focus on something other than the stressor at hand, and give her anxious buzz an escape route. The difference now was that she had yet to choose a category.

When she thought about where she was, and what brought her here, it was easy to think of something that would soothe her. She voluntarily lessened her medication not just because she wanted to give herself and Anthony the one thing they wanted most in the world, but because she already cared about that baby so deeply. She would already do anything to protect them and give them every chance at health and happiness, no matter how hard this battle to adjust might be for her. The thought of holding a baby, their baby, to her chest, and witnessing a heartbeat and giggles and cries that were all theirs to nurture was motivation enough to keep fighting, and also helped her realize the perfect inspiration for her musings.

What she hadn't realized was that the use of her new notepad also threatened to expose her little game. "Whatcha writing?" Anthony asked with a cheeky little grin.

Her fingers froze, and then curled into her palm. "Nothin', jus' fidgety I guess." Her cheeks started to burn but luckily they were still hidden as she nuzzled against his chest.

"You can keep goin' if you like. S'kinda fun being your canvas," he smiled.

She lifted her chin so he could see the shy smile that crept across her face, then unfurled her fist. For the next few moments, she focused again on mindless patterns. Fleeting circles, hearts and spirals tingled across his t-shirt until Jasmine had wrongly assumed he'd forgotten all about her artwork. She started spelling again, and Anthony tuned right in.

"J..." he thought to himself, mentally following the paths of her fingertips to solve her secret message. "U... L... I..."

"Julia? Who's that?" He asked, breaking the silence that had floated for the past few moments.

Jasmine rolled her eyes sleepily, and hushed him. "You didn't let me finish."

"E... T... T... E..." her fingers continued to dance.

"Juliette? I still don't get it," he frowned. "Who is that?"

"It's nothing babe," she sighed, "seriously it's embarrassing just ignore me. I just like to make lists when I need a distraction."

A series of kisses peppered across her forehead and temples was Anthony's way of pleading for an answer, and it had Jasmine's resolve melting away. The way he had her totally engulfed in his essence - his musky smell, the warmth of his skin pressed to hers, his voice's vibrations against her head - and the way it had her heart slowed and her mind cleared made his efforts irresistible.

"Okay, okay, fine. Was makin' a list of baby names," she mumbled under her breath.

Anthony knew better than to push her any further given her delicate state, so he tried earnestly to contain the burst of excitement that pulsed from his heart. He reached a little further with each of his hands, trying to pull her even closer despite the fact that she was already flush against his side. The thought of a family never failed to send his mind spinning, and all he could think about was being close to her. It was something they'd talked about of course, even already tonight, but something about seeing her use planning for a baby as a way to calm herself down had him near flustered. He reached down to squeeze her knee gently, then pull her leg over his hips. She was straddling him now, laying fully on top of him with her head undisturbed in the crook of his neck. He rubbed up and down her back slowly while pressing kiss after kiss to the crown of her head until she had fully settled, content with the new way their bodies had melded together.

As time passed, Jasmine no longer had to focus on steadying her breath; it had simply aligned itself with the slow rhythmic heart beat that vibrated against her cheek. Truthfully, her focus wasn't being tugged towards anything anymore. No more worries forcing themselves upon her, and no more obsessions pleading for her attention. Instead, her mind had been granted the freedom to focus on whatever would make her feel most comfortable, most safe, and most at home. And right now, that was certainly Anthony. The stubble on his chin that prickled against her forehead, the hands that radiated heat across her back, and the soothing trills that hummed from his lips all worked in tandem to make minutes feel like seconds until Jasmine's internal timer was up. Not long after, Anthony noticed the time despite her still appearing unfazed.

"Hey, it's about time, isn't it?" His words came as quiet murmurs, with silent pleas for her to stay as calm and composed as she was before.

"Mhmm, about five minutes ago," she grumbled, nuzzling deeper into Anthony's chest.

He grinned and lowered his chin to press a kiss to the crown of her head. "Jas, that's amazing babe. You did that and I'm so, so proud of you. Do you wanna go? I can come with you, or wait here, or -"

Jasmine closed her eyes to inhale deep into her belly, letting the comfort Anthony exuded drown out the last of the her pestering thoughts. "You checked it, right? And it's fine?"

"Yeah, but there's no shame if y-"

"Okay, I think maybe I'm good," she interjected, needing him to just agree before her compulsions reclaimed the ground she'd fought for. "Maybe we could just sleep?"

His smile pressed into her curls as felt his cheeks warming with pride. "Whatever sounds best to you, angel."

Jasmine just nodded, letting her cheek rub against his chest before tilting up to kiss his chin. She smiled into the kiss he pressed to her forehead, then let herself slide off his torso to sink back into the mattress. She kept a leg draped over his, and he slithered an arm under the arch of her waist so he could pull her tighter to his side. Her head tucked into the crook of his neck like a puzzle piece locking into place, and their hands clasped together just as perfectly atop his chest. Warm breaths washed over Anthony's neck, the slow rhythm allowing his worry for Jasmine to dissipate just slightly. She was still fragile, but she was fighting through it and at least for now she was okay. Her breathing was under control, and he could keep her just like this, snuggly in his protective hold.

"D'you know how ridiculously proud of you I am?" He murmured.

He felt her cheeks puff up, her lips curling into a bashful smile, but she banished that from her tone. "No reason to be. Jus' using common sense, really."

Anthony shook his head, fighting off the emotion that was started to glass over his eyes. A lump formed in the back of his throat, as he reflected on the significance behind why Jasmine was needing to be so strong tonight. "We both know its not that simple, babe. You're fighting something wired into your brain and you're doing that for our.. for us," he choked out."You're already making sacrifices for our baby and they don't even exist yet." A tear finally broke free and slipped down his cheek. Jasmine heard the break in his voice, and reached up to press a series of kisses down the track now paved through his freckles. "I'm just, so proud of you, and I love you so much," he added, his voice no stronger than a whisper.

"I love you too, Ant." Jasmine squeezed the hand in hers and felt whatever tension they each still held disintegrate. The weight she felt had finally been lifted as a peaceful sort of exhaustion washed over her - it wasn't one she had to fight off, but one she could now embrace.

Anthony could feel a heat spreading through his chest, made of some mix of pride and admiration. This woman was a warrior and he was lucky enough to be the one by her side. He nodded down to watch her eyes flutter shut, her lips parting slightly as her breaths deepened. "Now get some rest, my love. God, do you ever deserve it."

#janthony fics #my fics #janthony

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doubledeaky · 5 years

Text

Mellow

John Deacon x Female!Reader

Request: “Hiya! Could I request something like Man In The Mirror, but no smut? Like, instead of the (totally amazingly written btw) smut, just cuddles and crying and reassurance? Fluff and angsty? You can do it with Joe or who ever you like! Tysm. I love your writing!”

A/N: Hi, everyone! I’m finally feeling like myself again so I thought I’d treat you all to a John fic! The next update of the Brian fic should be out very soon! Hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback is very much requested! Much love! -m:)

Summary: Sometimes a shoulder to cry on is exactly what the doctor ordered. Lucky for you, John is always there to fill that prescription.

Word Count: 1,424 words (short but sweet)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, crying, angst and major fluff

mellow

adjective | mel•low | ‘melō

1. pleasantly smooth or soft, free from harshness

“Are you sure you’re alright, love?” Freddie spoke worriedly into the south end of his landline, the cord wrapped around his black-painted finger.

“Yes, Fred. I’m fine.” You grinned sadly, your cheek pressed against the body of your own phone. Your voice sounded unsure and skeptical despite your best efforts to assume believability. Fred narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips into a tight line. You could feel his attitude towards the situation through the phone, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Talk to John about it when he gets home.” He said with a particular finality, as if there was no room for further discussion of the topic. You rolled your eyes and shifted your weight to your left hip.

“Freddie- “

“Doctor’s orders.” He said in a singsong manner before hanging up without a formal farewell. You huffed, returning your home phone to its receiver and plopping down onto the couch. You surveyed the events of the last hour and shivered recollecting what had occurred. You’d called Freddie in tears, indulging him of the recent issues you’d been attempting to cope with. The stress of your new job, the constant prying eyes of the press, and the overall pressures of adult life we’re taking their toll. The weight of reality had hit you all at once and it stole the air from your lungs.

***

Freddie answered, never missing the opportunity to waste time chatting over the phone and was confused when met with your ragged breathing and broken sobs. He was close to slamming the phone back onto the receiver until your soft voice sounded from the other end of the line.

“Freddie...”

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” He questioned, suddenly concerned, clutching the material of his shirt with a nervous fervor.

“Everything.” You croaked out, feeling defeated, gripping the material of your blue jeans in an attempt to ground yourself.

“I have time.” He said softly, settling into the cushions of the chair he occupied. You chuckled bitterly, trying to organise your thoughts in a way that made logical sense and spilled your guts. Freddie wondered the entire time why you refused to tell John of your struggles. “That’s what boyfriends are for,” he said in an attempt to compel you to speak to John. Yet, you hesitated to agree every time he brought up the proposition.

***

Now you were sat alone, frustrated because you knew he was right - he always was. You needed to tell John, or it would eat at you until you were reduced to a puddle on the floor once again. You couldn’t decipher the particular fear that accompanied the idea of talking to John about your current state of mind. Maybe it was a fear of judgement. Maybe it was easier, in your mind, to put on a happy face and create a facade to hide the pain you felt. Whatever it was, it had an uneasy sense of panic settling in your stomach and you had to take a deep breath to calm it. You made the difficult decision to tell John, to tell him and ignore any inhibitions that would have stopped you in any previous scenarios. It would be tough, but it was John, your John.

***

You paced the length of your living room, trying to place your rabid thoughts in order. Your fingers were numb and scanning the lengths of your upper arms, their touch leaving a trail of sizzling shocks in their wake. You scoffed, completely embarrassed by your behavior. Why was this so hard?

You bit nervously at the skin of your lower lip, dreading the familiar sound of John’s house key jangling against the wood of the front door. When it did come mere nanoseconds after you’d flopped onto the couch, you were sat bolt upright, wiping away stray tears and falling into your bad habit of putting on a pretty face. You tried to appear nonchalant with a pleasant expression masking your features and a magazine in hand when John walked into the den, arms already open to invite you into his warm embrace. You smiled fondly and stood to slot yourself against him, your arms encircling his narrow waist. He wrapped his strong arms around you, burying his smiling face in the crook of your neck. The sweet exchange made all preoccupations escape your worried mind, but only for a moment. You leaned back to look at him and his expression faltered minutely when he noticed you red, glossy eyes. He ran a calloused thumb over the peak of your cheekbone, his brows furrowing in worry.

“Have you been crying?” He asks, holding you at arms length to examine your rather disheveled appearance. You shook your head, fear taking your gut, but you remained stoic.

“No, love. Just allergies.” Your heart clenched, you’d already broken the promise you’d made to yourself and Freddie. Your eyes seemed to water of their own accord and as you made brief eye contact with John, he seemed unconvinced. He quirked a brow and brought you closer to him, his grey eyes searching for any sign of dishonesty. You trembled in his hold and he frowned, wrapping his arms around your shaking frame. He cocked his head to the side and for an isolated moment, his own eyes glazed over. You broke, crumbling into his embrace. He shook his head “no” and held your head to his chest, rocking the both of your softly. He attempted to soothe you, running a gentle hand over your upper back. John could feel your lungs rattling with each of your choked sobs and his own eyes wet involuntarily.

“Hey...” He whispered, voice fractured with such an overwhelming concern for your feelings it has every muscle in your legs twitching. His hands come up to cradle your jaw, both thumbs caressing your cheekbones, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your lips are trembling pathetically, and your eyes are red-rimmed, pupils dilated and afraid.

“Talk to me.” He says softly, collecting himself quickly for your sake. Your heart adopts a dull ache and it’s hammering violently in your chest. You sigh unevenly, hands still gripping the material of his shirt. He’s listening intently, hanging on to every micro movement of your face, every sound that falls from your bitten lips.

“I have so much to say but, now I’m drawing a blank. I can’t get it out.” You say, softly, feeling defeated and frankly, exhausted.

“Then just lay with me. Not being able to say what’s on your mind doesn’t mean there isn’t anything there.” He says, poking a finger to your temple jokingly, drawing a breathy giggle from your sore lungs. He seems pleased, satisfied he was able to steal a laugh from you. He leads you to the couch, laying your head to his chest softly. One hand is rubbing gentle circles over your lower back, the other is gripping the hand you have laid across his chest.

“You’ll get there.” He says with a particular fondness, the tone he uses when talking with children or animals and often you. It’s not condescending or patronizing, its soft and sweet. It gives you a sense of safety like no other and reminds you that when your walls crumble, his will surround you and bathe you in an ethereal glow of love. It’s reminiscent of basking in the yellow wash of the afternoon sun or wading in the smooth, cobalt silk of the ocean. It’s free of impurity, completely incorrupt. It’s heavenly and you could dwell within it forever.

Your eyes are fluttering shut with a fawn-like grace, your delicate eyelashes tickling the skin of John’s chest. He grins, goofy and love struck, in complete and utter bliss. He can’t believe you’re his.

“I love you.” He says into the crown of your head, content in his current state of being whether or not you return the sentiment. But you do; muttering the words softly with your last bit of energy before falling into a deep state of sleep. His arms feel weak as they continue to encircle you in a warm embrace. He’s absolutely beaming, completely over the moon and maybe even the sun. A fuzzy sense of gratitude floods his chest and he feels lucky, completely satisfied in the position he occupies and soon he’s following you into a similar state of sleep. The old plaid couch becomes a bed for the pair of you that night but that’s okay, as long you’re both sharing it with only one another.

#john deacon #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john deacon x you #queen #queen band #queen imagines #roger taylor #brian may #freddie mercury #joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader

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icedrifter · 6 years

Text

Spec-tacular

Summary: “What?!” Ivan squeaked indignantly. “I wasn't making the heart-eyes, as you call them! I was… merely stretching beside him.”

Or: the one where Luka comes to training with big, goofy glasses. Chaos ensures.

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15776253

A/N #0: admittedly not my best work, but I had this idea in mind and I just wanted to put it out here. Forgive me if this isn't as refined as it could have been, a full time job and a lot of other stuff happening left me with little to no time at all. I hope this is still ok.

A/N #1: as always, not beta-ed and English isn't my native language. Sorry for any typos.

A/N #2: Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

Work Text:

Ivan ran into Mario in the middle of the pitch.

Literally ran into Mario's side, the taller man's elbow colliding – quite painfully too – with his jaw. He would be stopping a bruise by the next day, he already knew it, but couldn't care the least bit.

“What the– Rakitic! Watch where you're going, man!” Mario roared, spinning around to steady his teammate, but Ivan didn't hear him and kept staring elsewhere. “Hey! I'm talking to you! Earth to Rakitic! Oh, forget it,” he said giving up and walking away, leaving Ivan standing there.

The midfielder stood rooted on the spot, while his teammates kept on their training, enchanted by the sight on the sideline.

The sight in question was none other than his captain, talking apologetically to Dalic probably explaining why he was late, and wearing… glasses. Big, awful glasses that made him look a bit like a mouse, and a lot like a five year old boy playing with his dad's stuff.

Dalic nodded and gestured towards the rest of the team, and then Luka was removing his jacket and he was walking towards Ivan and he'd never looked more goofy and sexy before and -

And suddenly, a hand waving in front of his nose made him jump out of his reverie.

“Domo!”

“Ah, you're still with the rest of us, then. I thought you'd been replaced with an Ivan-like scarecrow,” he laughed, just as Luka approached the two of them and began to stretch nonchalantly.

“Hey guys,” he greeted them.

“You're wearing glasses,”Ivan heard himself say, and wow, wasn't that a show of his incredible observational skills?

Domo snorted ungraciously, and Luka's lips twitched in amusement.

“Yeah, you noticed?” he teased just as Domo was called away.

Ivan blushed furiously.

“I didn't know you wore them,” Ivan tried to say, casually hoping to mask his – incredibly inappropriate and unjustified – attraction.

“Yeah, that's 'cause I usually have my contact lenses,” Luka shrugged. “But I had the medical examinations this morning, the ophthalmologist had to do some tests,” he added in lieu of explanation, and just as he shifted position and began to stretch his arms and neck, the glasses slowly slid down his nose.

Luka frowned a little in annoyance, and wasn't that the cutest thing ever? He pushed them up again with a silent, resigned sigh, and smiled back at Ivan, who was so engrossed in his observation of the captain not to notice the ball that hit him square on the head.

“Ouch!” he cried.

Luka giggled loudly as Mario retrieved the ball that had casually hit him. “Serves you just right,” the taller man smirked.

Ivan only flipped him the finger distractedly, once more too enchanted by the man beside him to really pay attention to anything else around him, Luka’s disproportionate smile making his face glow, his honey-colored eyes sparkling in amusement behind the lenses. Ivan kept staring even after the smile left Luka’s face and he resumed his stretches.

He didn't see Sime elbowing Dejan knowingly and Danijel shaking his head fondly while marching towards him.

“Hey Luka! Good to see you. Do you mind if I steal him?” Danijel asked, dragging Ivan away without even waiting for Luka’s nod. “Come on, lover boy,” the goalkeeper said as he not-so-gently grabbed him by his shoulder and forced him out of his reverie, effectively moving him away as his captain laughed and waved goodbye at him. “Let's go on the other side of the pitch, otherwise you'll spend the next two hours just making the heart-eyes at Lukita.”

“What?!” Ivan squeaked indignantly. “I wasn't making the heart-eyes, as you call them! I was… stretching beside him.”

“Oh really. What for? You've already been training for more than half an hour, you don't need to stretch,” Danijel reasoned.

“My muscles were getting cold?” Ivan tried.

“Yeah, that's 'cause your blood was rushing somewhere else,” the goalkeeper laughed as Ivan's cheeks became crimson. “Oh come on, you know I'm right. You've been salivating after Luka ever since he arrived.”

Ivan sighed in resignation. “Was it that clear?” he asked, hoping that only the goalkeeper had noticed. After all, Danijel had always been an observant guy, much more than the rest of their friends.

Danijel snorted. “Yeah, you can say that. Everybody noticed,” he added, and there it goes Ivan's foolish hope. “Come on, let's resume our work, or Dalic will have our heads.”

They trained in relative peace for the following forty-five minutes, alternating between various exercises, until they were all called to play together, divided into two teams. And of course, Luka was his direct opponent the whole time, always in his line of sight and effectively rendering him useless as those glasses kept sliding down his nose and he kept pushing them up every three steps or so. At some point, even Dalic gave up and stopped calling after him to try and catch his attention and have him focus on the game. In the meanwhile, Luka was blissfully oblivious, being his usual brilliant self and overshadowing Ivan with his game more than once. Not even his ego seemed to care though, and Ivan didn’t snap out of his trance-like state until they called it a day and everybody went to hit the shower. Only then he realized that he'd done nothing but walk uselessly back and forth, trotting after the captain, effectively not contributing in any way to his team's success. He felt ashamed, and berated himself; he was a professional and should have known better than to be distracted by a pretty face, even if said pretty face was Luka's.

He walked silently to the lockers, scowling and observing his teammates as they joked and talked to each other, and did his very best to ignore the captain. He was actually doing a pretty good job, exchanging a few words with Mateo as he took out his towel and flip-flops and took a quick shower, until he turned around to walk back to his locker to get clean clothes. And there at the very end of the line of shower stalls, was Luka.

Luka, with only a tower around his waist. Luka, with his hair sticking to his forehead. Luka, with his glasses covered in steam. Luka, who couldn't see an inch from his nose and all but crashed face first into the nearest wall.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Ivan hurried to help steady him as the captain rubbed a bruised spot on his face. “You hurt?”

“Only in my ego,” Luka joked with dry humor. “See? That's the reason why I never wear them outside of the house.”

“That's a shame, you look beautiful,” Ivan said without even thinking.

Luka's head snapped up – his glasses sliding down once again – and he looked at him.

“I- I mean, uh,” Ivan tried to say, but no words came to his mind.

“You really think so?” Luka asked brusquely, interrupting his half-formed sentence with a serious voice that made Ivan almost jump.

Ivan’s eyebrows arched upwards. What kind of question was that? Was Luka really so oblivious, or was he pulling Ivan’s leg?

And how could he possibly be even more attractive when frowning like that, with his hair sticking to his forehead in a mess?

“Yes, I do,” Ivan replied, and wow, Luka was blushing an endearing shade of bright pink, starting from his torso and all up to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, lowered his eyes and biting his lower lip.

“Thank you,” he said softly, reaching for a pair of socks just as Ivan went to put on fresh ones, too. “People never liked me in glasses, before.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Luka shook his head, and waved goodbye at Sime and Dejan as they passed by, the last two of the team to leave the locker room, where only the midfielders were left now. They put on their pants, then fresh t-shirts and jeans, both of them silent, lost in their thoughts for a moment. They grabbed their bags and walked out of the locker room and towards the exit.

"No, I'm not," Luka continued as they walked down a desert corridor. "I mean, look at me. I'm not... handsome, and I know it. A 14 year old boy is taller than me - and I hit puberty quite a few years ago. My face is-eh. Add the glasses, and I look like a half blind, wizened rat!" he joked self-deprecatingly.

As he heard those words, Ivan stopped dead in his tracks, grabbing Luka's elbow.

"Don't say that," he frowned.

"Uh?"

"Don't say that, never again."

"oh, come on! It's-"

"No. Luka, I mean it," Ivan said, dead serious.

"Ivan, why are you getting angry over this?" Luka asked, perplexed and confused.

"Because I don't like you talking of yourself like that!" Ivan scowled. "You are so... stupidly oblivious sometimes! How can you not see-"

"See what?"

"This!" Ivan raised his voice, gesturing towards Luka's face. At Luka's confused look, he sighed in fond exasperation. "All this," he went on explaining, trying to make Luka see what he was so obstinate not to notice. "You can't see it maybe, but I do, and you're- you're perfect, just like this," Ivan whispered. "This," he breathed, his lips finding Luka's.

They kissed tenderly. And if the glasses got in the way a little, none of them really noticed.

"You're beautiful," Ivan whispered as their mouths parted.

Luka smiled brightly, once again pushing his glasses up higher on his aquiline nose. He squeezed his arm and pushed Ivan towards the door and outside in the parking lot, presumably to continue their confrontation at length somewhere more private.

As the sun hit them, the rays reflected on the lenses of Luka's glasses, and Ivan snorted as he saw a halo, a long line running horizontally over the left lens. The shape looked suspiciously like the tip of his own nose.

"You know?" Ivan said as they walked side by side. "With these, you are simply... a spectacle!"

Luka punched him.

#Luka Modrić #luka modric #Ivan Rakitić #ivan rakitic #Danijel Subašić #Mario Mandžukić #my fanfiction

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