#*through tears* these are so perfect for him i love these so much

[jasvtsc]

daddy's home

at first glance, you were the epitome of innocence.

perfectly manicured nails. neatly styled hair, often with a pinky ribbon added to the mix. lips always shiny, your lipgloss being a necessity in your purse. knee-high stockings highlighting your smooth legs, paired together with some heels. and short dresses, barely hiding the soaking wet lace panties underneath.

yeah, you looked innocent.

but behind closed doors? you were a filthy needy little whore—just what ben liked to call you.

for such a small thing, your sex drive was actually insane, and it shocked him for the first time when you eagerly jumped up and down his softening dick. you were so cockdrunk he couldn’t help but find it adorable. you tried so hard to act like a perfect and innocent girl, but as soon as he was near you, you were a whiny mess, desperate to be filled.

you were like a bunny, always eager and energetic.

and honestly? he was living for it.

he could do whatever he wanted to you, and he just loved fucking you into oblivion, watching tears stream down your face as you turned into a blabbering mess.

hard day at work? he’d aggressively pound into your wet pussy, making you unable to walk for the next few days.

hughie annoyed the fuck out of him? he’d dug his fingers underneath your panties first thing after coming home, sighing in relief at the familiar feeling of your drenched walls sucking them in.

his favourite team lost the game? you were on the bed, down on your knees, ass up as he slapped it, leaving red marks from his calloused hand while fucking you.

lazy afternoon smoking some weed and simply unwinding? he’d have you cockwarming him, just sitting on his lap and looking all pretty with his fat cock buried deep inside your tight hole.

or when you simply wanted to pleasure him, getting down on your knees in front of him, his foot between your legs as you bop your head back and forth, your cheeks hollowing with every suck, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he sunk fully.

you were his drug that he couldn’t get enough. you were his perfect little girl.

and he hasn’t seen you in so long. too long.

butcher sent him on a mission on the other side of the country. he spent almost a week away from you, and even though you were religiously sending him photos he could get off to, nothing compared to the real thing of him nestled in your welcoming heat.

so as soon as he got home, he was met with your pouty lips and tears flooding your cheeks. you hugged him tightly, your arms barely able to wrap around his broad frame as you wanted to squeeze him tightly. he smirked and wrapped one hand firmly around your body, keeping you close and tight without much effort. the other hand moved to your hair, where he stroked the back of your head with his thumb, looking down at your pretty face covered in tears, pressed against his chest.

“well, well, well. look what we have here. missed me that much, hm? don’t worry, baby girl, daddy’s home,” he chuckled and patted your head.

then, he lifted you, the hand on your head now going under your dress. he rubbed your core with his fingers, feeling how wet you already were through your panties. he sighed in contentment, a cocky smirk on his face as he pressed his fingers, making the fabric stick between your folds.

“already so eager to see me. i think i should take care of ya, f’being such a good girl and missing daddy,” he hummed, carrying you to the bedroom.

not even five minutes later, you were already bent over on the bed, your panties stuffed in your mouth to muffle any sounds you’d make. he held your wrists in a firm grip on your back, so you were completely at his mercy as he was sliding in and out of you, your pussy squelching. you were breathing through your nose, whimpering against the fabric in your mouth as he kept your head pressed on the pillow.

“so fuckin’ tight, all f’me,” he growled, reaching his hand between your bodies and delivering a firm slap to your clit. “too tight, though. did your little pussy already forget what daddy feels like? we can’t have that. no fuckin’ way,” he panted, thrusting into you even harder, making you cry out as he pinched your swollen bud. “yeah, just like that. cry for daddy, you filthy whore.”

he flipped you on your back and sunk in your heat again, repeatedly hitting your cervix. with a grunt, he took the panties out of your mouth, instead replacing them with his fat fingers. you almost gagged as he shoved them in, pressing on your tongue, but quickly, you swirled your tongue around the rough digits, eagerly sucking on them.

“yhym. good girl. suck while daddy fucks you,” he growled, stroking your chin with his thumb as he started moving even more aggressively with a clear intention of filling you up with his cum.

when your walls began to clamp down on his cock, he pulled his fingers, now coated with your saliva and roughly grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks. you whimpered and opened your mouth, and that was exactly what he wanted. he smiled and then spat in your mouth, one look enough for you to know that he wanted you to swallow.

and that’s what you did, seconds later squirting on his thick length, making him tumble over the edge as well. with a loud groan, he stilled and pressed deeper inside you, shooting his load into your tight channel.

“fuck, that’s it. daddy’s home,” he chuckled lowly, pulling you closer and crashing his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.

oh, he missed you so fucking much.

[littlelamy]

Reader request with Rafe. Maybe she breaks down sobbing in the middle of sex and he has no idea why, thinking he hurt her. Her reasons aren’t bad. As someone that has only been with one person personally, and he was such a selfish uncaring lover, I legit think I would start sobbing in bed if someone was loving and caring towards me and treating me like the most precious thing. Love your writing <3

a/n: thank you so much for requesting...hope you like it!!⭐️

the room was drenched in golden light, the low hum of the bedside lamp the only sound as rafe’s hands roamed your body. his palms were warm against your skin, calloused but soft in their touch, tracing a path down your sides like he was discovering you for the first time. his lips followed, pressing kisses that started at your neck and trailed lower, his breath hot and deliberate.

“you okay?” he murmured, the deep rasp of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. his fingers hooked under the hem of your shirt, brushing the bare skin of your stomach as he paused to look at you.

your lips parted, and though you nodded, the tightness in your throat betrayed you. “yeah,” you whispered. “i’m okay.”

rafe studied your face, his brow furrowing slightly before he leaned down to kiss you again. it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, but slow, sensual, the kind of kiss that set your skin alight. his tongue slid against yours, coaxing a soft moan from your lips as his hand moved lower, slipping between your legs.

“god, you’re so wet for me,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and desire. his fingers stroked you gently, building heat that spread through your entire body, but there was nothing hurried about the way he moved. "my baby, so perfect." he almost purred, everything about him was deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second of this—every second of you.

you arched into his touch, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he pressed his body closer to yours. his hips rocked against you, his movements careful but firm, and the pressure sent sparks of pleasure through your veins.

but that was the moment it all became too much.

your chest tightened, your breath hitching as the weight of everything crashed down at once. the tenderness, the patience, the care—it was everything you’d never known, everything you thought you didn’t deserve. and suddenly, the tears came.

a sob tore from your throat, raw and unbidden, cutting through the heated silence like a knife.

rafe froze instantly, his body going rigid above you as his eyes snapped to your face. “y/n?” his voice was sharp with concern, his hands pulling back like he was afraid he’d hurt you. “what—did i—did i hurt you?”

you shook your head, tears spilling freely now as you pressed a trembling hand to your face. “no,” you managed, your voice cracking. “no, you didn’t hurt me. i’m sorry, i—”

“hey, hey,” he interrupted, his hands hovering near your arms but not quite touching. his voice softened, though there was still a note of panic in it. “don’t apologize. just tell me what’s wrong. did i do something? did i push too far?”

you shook your head again, harder this time, your tears soaking into the pillow beneath you. “no, rafe. it’s not you. it’s… it’s me.”

his brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face as he searched your eyes for answers. “what do you mean? you’re crying, baby. i don’t know what to do.”

the raw vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you. you forced yourself to take a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you reached up to touch his face. “i’m crying because you’re too good to me,” you admitted, the words tumbling out in a rush.

rafe blinked, clearly caught off guard. “what?”

“you’re too good to me,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve only ever been with one person before, and he… he didn’t care about me. not really. it was always about him—what he wanted, what he could take. i got used to that, and now… now you’re here, and you’re so kind and patient, and i don’t know how to handle it.”

his expression shifted then, his confusion melting into something softer, though there was an edge of anger in his jaw—anger directed not at you but at the person who had made you feel this way.

“y/n,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “that guy? he didn’t deserve you. not for a second. and i don’t care how long it takes, i’ll spend every moment proving to you that you’re worth everything. do you hear me?”

tears spilled down your cheeks again, but this time they weren’t born of pain. his words wrapped around you like a balm, soothing wounds you hadn’t realized were still bleeding.

“i don’t want to scare you off,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“scare me off?” rafe repeated, his tone incredulous. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “y/n, you couldn’t scare me off if you tried. i just… i want you to feel safe with me. always.”

“i do,” you said quickly, your voice breaking with urgency. “i do feel safe. that’s why i’m crying, rafe. because i’ve never felt this before. no one’s ever… treated me like this before.”

his lips pressed to your forehead, lingering there as he exhaled deeply. “then we’ll go slow,” he murmured against your skin. “as slow as you need. or we can stop altogether. whatever you want, baby.”

“no,” you said firmly, your hands curling around his wrists to keep him close. “i don’t want to stop. i just… needed to tell you. needed you to know why i’m like this.”

his eyes searched yours for a long moment before he nodded, his lips curving into the softest smile. “okay,” he said simply. “but promise me, if you ever need to stop, you’ll tell me. no matter what.”

“i promise,” you whispered, your voice steadier now.

he kissed you again, but this time it was different. there was still care in the way his lips moved against yours, but now there was something deeper, something hungrier. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him as his hips rolled forward, the friction sending a gasp spilling from your lips.

“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his breath warm against your neck as he pressed wet kisses to your skin. his body moved against yours in slow, deliberate thrusts, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough.

and this time, you let yourself feel it. you let yourself drown in the way he touched you, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world. because for the first time in a long time, you believed that maybe—just maybe—you were.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

jayvik x reader plsplsplsplspls

YESYESYEYSYEYSYEYS

--

Everyone in piltover knows the three of you. Known for his attitude and sarcastic approach, viktor was usually the one people were cautious talking to. He may look small, too, but he was hiding a hell of a punch behind his bony body. Jayce is like sunshine on legs. Everyone loves talking to jayce, and he takes care of the business that he prefers you and viktor need not worry about. But he too is hiding something, jayce is absolutely terrifying when he's got a reason to be. Although he looks like a teddy bear, he could tear a man apart with two fingers and walk away smiling. So he's a guard dog.

And you are their loving and doting partner of 2 years. You are a scientist, but you have long since taken a break after an explosion shattered your arm. You haven't been able to work on much since. You started dating viktor and jayce a little bit after they joined together as partners In the hextech project.

They indoctrinated you into their duo and took pride in knowing they could take care of you, and secretly, after a short time of being your small trio, it was jayce who announced he had feelings for you. At first, you didn't know what to say back because you did indeed like him too, but you liked viktor as well.

And so you proposed to them the idea of a poly relationship. And like children who had been offered stacks of candy, they immediately smiled happily and nodded. And since then, your life has been peaceful and perfect alongside your partners.

You were taking a stroll through the square as three. Despite the fact that jayce had a meeting to get to, he would not rush viktor as he walked slowly beside him. Rather, he enjoyed walking at this pace in comparison to the constant speeding down the halls that the other councillors always seemed hell bent on doing.

"It would be nice to get lunch, don't you think?" Jayce turnt to look at you both.

You nodded. "I agree that would be lovely"

Viktor shrugged his thin shoulders. "Yes, that would be." his sentence was interrupted by a harsh cough into his handkerchief. "Lovely indeed"

You and jayce looked at each other worriedly. "Are you alright, vik? We can go home if you would like?" Jayce stopped the three of you and put his hand of viktors shoulder.

His hand engulfed his bony shoulder, and your brows raised still shocked at just how large jayce was. It's quite terrifying when he stands up straight.

"You need not worry about me, jayce. I am okay" viktor nodded.

"Perhaps it may be best if we go sit down somewhere," you stated.

"Sounds like a bad idea, love, viktor's bony butt might hurt when he sits down" jayce chuckled at his own joke.

Viktor glared at his partner. "Remember, i might be sick, but I am not weak. I will fight you talis, "

That made you laugh.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Imma need this haah so I was watching the race yesterday and I heard Nando come on the radio to say he would have given in by now but he needs to do it for a few people etc and I’ve seen the video at the end of the race where he’s struggling to get out of the car I can’t send it if you haven’t seen it and was thinking of Nando x reader based around this. You know me throw some angst in there and lots of fluff please 🙏 your my favourite Nando writer I love your work ❤️

I am so sorry this took so long I have an exam today and just wanted to finish it before I went in!! i hope you like it :)

For you

Fernando Alonso had never been one to back down from a challenge or a fight.

It wasn’t in his nature.

He never caved, never gave up, no matter how overwhelming the situation or how drained he felt.

That was what made the Brazilian Grand Prix such a shock—not just to Aston Martin, but to you, especially.

You had been by Fernando’s side for over 10 years, and his wife for 7 of those.

You knew him inside out, perhaps better than anyone else. You knew how stubborn he could be, how relentless, especially when it came to the risks he took behind the wheel.

The race had been brutal.

The heat was suffocating, visibility was near zero in certain sectors, and the pressure to deliver was immense.

You’d been watching from the edge of your seat, every moment fraught with anxiety. You were praying to anyone who could hear, hoping for a safe race. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the fear that his age was beginning to catch up with him.

Fernando wasn’t the young firecracker he once was, yet he never showed any sign of slowing down.

To the media, to the world, he was as fit and strong as ever. But with you—he was different. With you, he didn’t have to wear that mask of invulnerability.

That day in Brazil, the race had pushed him to his limits. The physical exhaustion, the mental strain, the constant, unrelenting pressure to win—it all weighed heavily on him.

You had seen him on those mornings when he woke up groaning in pain, his back stiff from the wear and tear of years of racing, and you knew it wasn’t just the way he slept. You knew the strain his body was under, but he would never admit it. Never to the world, and never to himself.

Yet, despite it all, there was something deeper driving him forward. Something that kept him pushing when every muscle in his body screamed for him to stop.

Just before the race, you two had fought. It had been a long, tense argument, your voices raised in frustration. You had begged him, pleaded with him, “Fernando, you need to slow down. The risks you’re taking, they’re too much. I don’t want to lose you.”

But he had been defensive, angry even. His pride, his need to prove he still had it, had made him dismiss your concerns. “I know what I’m doing,” he had snapped, his voice cutting through the tension. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

He had stormed off, leaving you with nothing but the echo of his words. But you knew, deep down, he wasn’t angry at you—he was angry at himself. Because even though he wouldn’t admit it, there was a fear in him now, a fear of not being able to keep up with the younger drivers. A fear of losing that edge he had worked his whole life to perfect.

But despite all of that, there was something else on his mind, something driving him forward when his body screamed for him to give in.

He'd heard it on the radio, his voice a low rasp as he pushed back against the exhaustion. "I would’ve given up by now, but I can't. I need to do this... for them. For a few people..." For you.

When the race finally ended, Fernando was barely able to stand. His body had been pushed to its absolute limit. The pain was overwhelming, and as he dragged himself out of the car, the world around him spun. His hands were trembling, his legs unsteady, and yet it wasn’t the physical exhaustion that alarmed you. It was the look in his eyes—defeat, vulnerability, a quiet acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, you had been right.

You were there before he could take another step, rushing to his side. You didn’t need to say anything—your arms around him, the steady pressure of your embrace, spoke volumes. You could feel the weight of his body as he leaned into you, his breaths shallow, strained. His voice was barely audible when he spoke.

"I don’t know how much longer I can do this," he whispered, his words thick with exhaustion, both physical and emotional.

You didn’t hesitate. "You can," you replied softly, but firmly. "You always can. But only if you let yourself breathe sometimes, Nando."

He didn’t answer at first. His fingers clenched around your shirt, his face buried in your hair as though trying to find solace in your presence. For a moment, the roar of the crowd, the flashing lights, everything else faded away. All that mattered was you and him, the two of you in that moment, holding each other together.

You stepped back slightly to look into his eyes, the exhaustion etched deep into his features. You cupped his face gently in your hands. "You don’t have to carry it all. Not alone. Let me help you. Let me in."

He finally met your gaze, his eyes shadowed with the weight of the race, of the argument, of everything he had been bottling up. For a brief moment, you saw a flicker of regret. His voice was small, apologetic, and raw. “I was wrong, about everything. You were right. I pushed too hard today. I… I can’t keep going like this.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You could see the cracks in his armor, the vulnerability he had never let anyone see before. The fight in him wasn’t gone—it had simply shifted. Now it wasn’t about winning races or proving himself to the world, it was about finding balance, finding peace.

"You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Fernando," you whispered, your hand gently brushing his cheek. "Not to me. Not to anyone. Just… come back to me in one piece, okay?"

He nodded, a tear slipping from his eye, and for the first time in a long while, you saw the man who had been running on empty—tired, afraid, and so desperately in need of someone to hold him.

and you would always be there to do that.

[rose24207]

Simp sessions and sliding into DM’s

Summary: Y/N openly simps for Lando Norris during a Beta Squad video, and he surprises her by sliding into her DMs.

Genre: humor

TW: filly (?)

A/N: English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The Beta Squad filming day was already off to a chaotic start, as usual. Cameras were rolling, the boys were bantering, and you were doing what you did best: keeping them in check while simultaneously embarrassing yourself over Lando Norris.

You were the heart of the group—a mix of sass, sarcasm, and too much energy. But when it came to Lando? You couldn’t help yourself. The guys loved it, though, because your relentless simping made for prime content.

“Alright, next challenge,” Sharky announced as the crew prepped for the next scene. “We’ve got trivia, and the loser has to wear this ridiculous chicken suit for the rest of the video.”

“I am not losing this,” Chunkz said, crossing his arms.

“You better not,” AJ quipped. “Because we already know Y/N losing the second we bring up Formula 1.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned. “Listen, I might fail general trivia, but if the question’s about Lando Norris, I’ll ace it.”

“Of course you will,” Kenny teased, smirking at the camera. “You’d probably marry him if you could.”

“Who says I wouldn’t?” you shot back, flipping your hair dramatically. Then, looking directly into the lens, you added, “Lando, if you’re watching this, hi. I’m single, funny, and an excellent cook. Call me.”

The room erupted with laughter as the guys doubled over at your boldness.

“You’re shameless!” Niko said, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re not jealous,” you retorted, pointing at him. “Lando’s a catch, and I’m just shooting my shot.”

The filming continued, but the Lando jokes didn’t stop. Every time a question remotely related to racing or McLaren came up, you’d light up like a Christmas tree.

“Which F1 team has won the most championships?” AJ read aloud during the trivia round.

“McLaren!” you shouted.

Chunkz groaned. “It’s Ferrari, you muppet.”

You pouted, ignoring the laughter and leaning into the camera again. “I tried, Lando. I swear I did. Don’t judge me.”

Unbeknownst to you, Lando was watching.

Ever since Filly introduced him to Beta Squad’s videos, he’d been a quiet fan. At first, he watched for the laughs, but after seeing you roast the boys with razor-sharp wit and your constant jokes about him, he became... intrigued.

“Mate, she’s proper funny,” Lando had told Filly after a particularly chaotic episode.

“Yeah, Y/N’s a legend,” Filly said with a grin. “You should DM her, bro. She’d lose it.”

“I don’t know,” Lando had said, trying to play it cool. But secretly, he couldn’t get the idea out of his head.

Back at the Beta Squad shoot, you were sitting on the sofa during a break, scrolling through Instagram. The guys were busy setting up for the next segment, but you were glued to your screen, giggling at Lando’s latest post.

“What’s so funny?” Chunkz asked, leaning over your shoulder.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, turning your phone away.

“Bet it’s Lando,” Sharky teased, walking past.

“Of course it is,” AJ said. “She’s been staring at her phone like it’s a picture of her future husband.”

“Leave me alone,” you said, laughing. “It’s not my fault he’s perfect.”

“Perfect at crashing,” Niko said, and you threw a cushion at him.

“Say that again, and I’ll fight you,” you warned, grinning.

Just then, Sharky’s phone buzzed, and he let out a surprised laugh. “No way.”

“What?” Chunkz asked, curious.

“Lando just posted a story. He’s watching our video.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

The guys crowded around Sharky’s phone, and sure enough, there was Lando’s story—a clip of you dramatically declaring your love for him, with the caption: “I’m flattered. Trivia next time?”

You froze, your face burning. “Oh my god.”

“Y/N, you’ve made it!” AJ shouted, shaking your shoulders.

“Wait, this is big,” Kenny said, laughing. “What are you gonna do?”

Before you could answer, your phone buzzed. You picked it up hesitantly, and your jaw dropped.

@landonorris: Followed you.

The room went silent for about three seconds before the guys erupted into chaos.

“He followed you?!” Chunkz yelled.

“This is better than any prank we’ve ever done,” Sharky said, grinning.

“Alright, everyone, calm down!” you said, though you were anything but calm. Your heart was pounding as you opened Instagram, and sure enough, there it was—Lando’s name sitting at the top of your followers list.

“DM him!” AJ urged.

“No, wait,” Kenny said, smirking. “Let’s see if he DMs her first.”

As if on cue, another notification popped up.

Lando Norris: Hey, Y/N. Love the videos. Also, I’m offended you got the McLaren question wrong.

You let out a strangled laugh, holding up your phone. “He DMed me.”

The guys lost it again, shouting and cheering as you stared at the screen in disbelief.

“Reply!” Niko said, practically shoving you back onto the sofa.

Taking a deep breath, you typed out a response:

You: In my defense, I panicked. But thanks for watching! Let me know when you want to collab on trivia.

His reply came quickly:

Lando Norris: Deal. But only if I get to be on your team.

You couldn’t stop smiling, and the guys teased you relentlessly for the rest of the day. But for once, you didn’t care.

Because maybe, just maybe, your shameless simping was about to pay off.

Thank you for reading!

[ichore]

tags: nanami kento x afab!reader, smut, reader is a simp for rin itoshi

synopsis: kento takes you to pound town while you're waiting for your take-out dinner to be delivered

Nanami Kento is the type of man who likes to take care of dinner. It doesn't matter if it's on a busy weekday or a lazy sunday afternoon, he's insistent on putting a plate full of love ahead of you before you go to bed.

However, sometimes, these love bites mean a take-out from your favorite Korean restaurant instead of his home cooked meals. Not that you mind. Not that you could when that means he has more time to have his hands occupied with you.

"The app says it's an hour until the food gets here," he says, turning the volume up on his phone before locking the screen and putting the device on the coffee table. His back smoothes against the couch while he loosens his tie as his other hand gently caresses your freshly shaven and lotioned leg. "Already took a shower without me?"

"I was feeling gross. It's hard to dress up for this terrible weather; one minute I'm freezing, the next I'm all sweaty," you explain with your head resting in your palm, wearing nothing but a crimson robe as your fiance hums in understanding. "What should we do until the food gets here? Do you want to continue Blue Lock?"

"I have a better idea," he says as his caresses become rubs on your calves. He places a tender kiss on your knee while fingerpads travel to your thighs, gingerly sinking into your flesh to have you reveal your already throbbing ache. "Can't have that green-eyed monster occupy your mind when I need you the most, can I?"

"Green-eyed monster?" you throw your head back as you laugh, and Kento almost finds it hard not to smile at his own joke when such hearty sounds leave your chest. "I'd choose you over Rin every single day, handsome,"

"You really mean that?" he mumbles against the supple flesh of your inner thigh, the edge of his teeth grazing up after he gets on his knees on the ground and pulls you closer to himself. You slowly untie your robe, letting it fall halfway off your shoulders as you arch your back. Your fingers rake through the softness of his blond hair, your breath hitches as his own tickles against your wetness.

"Mhm," you nod eagerly, your eyes getting lost in his questioning, darkened gaze. "Fuck, I'd choose you in every life,"

"I'm so glad, my love," Kento says before his tongue finally rushes across between your folds. His face gets completely buried between your thighs as each of his hands interlocks with yours, and you gasp each time he takes his tongue out of you to suck on your clit. Your ragged breathing turns into moans when he lets go of your hands to have two of his fingers inside you and his free hand teasing your hardened nipple. His upper lip and tongue focuses on your sensitive bud as his fingers fasten, hitting and massaging your sweetest spot until your walls tighten around their thickness and a gush of wetness drips out of you while you moan his name. "I love how your voice changes right before you orgasm," he says as he wipes off the mixture of his saliva and your cum with the back of his hand.

"I love you so fucking much, Kento," you whisper while you watch him unbuckle his belt; his usually pouting lips curving into a proud smile and his normally perfect hair all disheveled, falling right against his forehead - happiness looks like a divine light on Nanami Kento. And as his dick expertly slides into you and his smile turns into a groan against your lips, tears begin to gather in your eyes.

"I love you more," Kento mumbles to you in between swallowing your moans as he thrusts in and out of you, making the room fill with the fragrance of sweaty sex and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the wet quenching of your pussy each time he pulls away. "More," he says again when his fingers wrap around your throat and the movements of his hips become harder, and you see the furrow between his brows deepen as he's edging close to his own orgasm. A sharp knot in your stomach begins to harden, the spams of your own orgasm nearly drive him mad in an instant, making him grunt and groan along, his hold tightening around your neck as you ride through your peak. "So. Much. More." each word comes with a hard thrust, sending his cum deeper with every stroke while his hand lets go of your throat, and cups your jawline. His tongue circles in your mouth as the remnants of his orgasm rush across him, and your fingers caress across his sweaty shoulders and back.

"That was amazing," you whisper when he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, earning a gentle smile from him while he entirely pulls himself out of you.

"Didn't choke you too hard, did I?" he glances at the redness that thrones on your skin while he dresses up again, and you tie back your robe.

"You were perfect, as always," you smile at him, your hair all messy and your cheeks still flushed and your lips a rosy raw from his loving. If it's not for his phone ringing, he would tell you that you are the most beautiful being he's ever laid eyes on.

Kento fixes his hair with a brush of his comb before he takes the food from the delivery man who leaves with a generous tip for having the perfect timing. But Kento cannot help, but offer a plea of a smile to you when he comes back and Rin Itoshi welcomes him on the TV screen.

[dr-flipflops]

OOC: Will's Lonely 18th Birthday people, as per Cresent's request. - @permetutotheworld @the-eclipse-is-in-me @fukurouonthesea Here we go :) Its sooooooo long, I got so bloody carried away, sorry guys.

*Will left another tray in front of Nico's door, a yellow sticky note on the side*

(what the note said is in italics)

*I hope you've been eating all the food I'm giving you Neeks. Ew- I'm 18 today, EW!!! I'm oooooold :( . I don't have to be a functional adult now do I? Surely, I get a pass for being neurodivergent. I hope you have a nice day INSIDE, please come out. I miss you*

*It had been a week, and Nico was still holed up in the cabin. Will had been denied access, but he'd seen Cresent and Noa go in just fine, heck even CLARISSE gained entrance. It broke something inside Will, but he shrugged it off. They were his family, of course he'd let them in. Will was just an inconvenience he had to put up with, and take care of. He'd known Clarisse for years, Cresent was his sister, and Noa was like his little brother*

*Its fine Solace, come on. Its your birthday. Cheer up. Its fine. Everything's okay.*

*Will's siblings had given him a lovely morning, and the campers who remembered and were the ones who still looked him in the eye had wished him at breakfast. It was nice. But it wasn't the same. Chiron had given him the full day empty, but he had no-one to celebrate with. His siblings all had duties, and they refused to let him work on his birthday. Everyone else was busy too. Will would usually go back to Texas for the week to be with his mother, but with Nico holed up he wanted to stay here*

*Besides, it wasn't like he wanted to celebrate it anyways. The only thing good about it was that he was another year closer to the grave. He didn't know what to do, he wished he could work, that way at least he wouldn't feel so lonely and useless. At least healing gave him a purpose and he felt good after saving someone. At least he'd feel something*

*Will lazily walked through the woods, kicking his feet, cupcake with candle in hand. He made it to his special spot on the coast, where he had the shade of the trees, and a view of the sparkling lake, but could still bask in the sun's rays without it bothering his eyes, not that it had ever in the first place. Wind whistled past, and birds sang, the sun shone golden rays that illuminated the rocks, slick with crashing waves*

*The day was undoubted perfect. Will knew it was curtesy of his father, his way of saying "happy birthday". Will was grateful, but he didn't really feel it*

*The candle glowed bright, Will cupped the cupcake in his hands and held it close*

Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to meee.

*Will blew it out gently, and wished that today would be the day Nico would come out, even if it was to just say a simple hello. Tears stung his eyes and he laughed a little*

Guess I'm an adult now. huh. Never thought I'd get here.

*Will leaned back against the rock behind his perch, face tilted up as one or two tears down*

But you always knew, didn't you Lee? You said I'd make it Micheal, you were right it seems.

*Tears choked his throat, he looked up at the trees shadowing him above, and the sun softly shining through the canopies. It was like they were here, he could almost hear their voice. Almost feel the laughter of the younger ones. Gracie would've loved to meet Fay*

I wish you were here. I wish you all were.

*Something shimmer past his head and he looks to see his mother's smiling face*

*Will jolts upright*

MA!!?

Naomi: Hi Billy!!! Aw, my little William has grown up so much, 18 now! I thought you were coming home for your birthday?

Will: You-you remembered?

Naomi: no, I just happened to throw a drachma into the lake on accide- OF COURSE I REMEMBERED WILLY!!! You're my favourite son, I can't believe expect so little of your mother.

Will: Ma, I'm your only son.

Naomi: Even better! No competition. Anyways, how come you aren't home?

Will: Sorry Ma, things happened, and I got caught up in camp.

Naomi: Aw, I wanna see my son! You're officially an adult!

Will *small laugh*: Still can't drink though.

Naomi: You can drink water.

Will *groans*: Maaaaa

Naomi: Oh pish posh. Those Americanos *tuts* we're Spanish William, they don't have to know *winks*

Will *laughs fully for the first time all day*: Maaa!

Naomi *grumbles about Americans, then gives Will a stern look* : You better come home for Christmas William Andrew Solace, and you can tell that Chiron of yours to stick it where the sun don't shine if he says otherwise

Will *laughs again*: Alright, alright ma!!!

Naomi *smiles*: Seriously. Oh look at you my sweet boy. When you were taken from me, you couldn't even tie your laces, now you're 18, all grown up. *sighs*

Will: I'm still your little boy Ma, always

Naomi: Damn right you are! Don't you change a bit Billy. You've got a big heart, you dare lose it and your Abuelo will roll in the grave, and your Abuela will storm over from Spain

Will: Don't worry! I won't :) Even if the reason is my fear of Abuela's ladle.

Naomi: That woman, when she has her hands on a cooking utensil, y'all better run away or run towards the table ready to be stuffed like a Christmas hog.

Will: Yeah.

Naomi: Well, you're only 18 once Willy, I hope you have a good day!

Will *tight smile, hiding the loneliness*: Yep, terrific, look! I got the cupcakes you sent me!!!

Naomi: Aw, *someone gestures off-screen* uh huh, *back to Will* Billy, I'm so sorry, but I'm gonna have to go, there's something wrong with the sound systems, I'm so sorry. I want to talk to you more, after all, my baby is only gonna turn 18 once, its a special day! *bites lip and looks conflicted*

Will *his heart breaks. He was gonna be alone again. He makes a smile*: Its alright Ma, I've got a cupcake to eat after all! *huffs a laugh*

Naomi *blows him a kiss*: Love ya Willy! Happy birthday sweetheart.

Will: Bye-

*Naomi cuts the message*

-Ma.

*Will swallows. He was alone again. His mother had more important things to do, OF COURSE SHE DID SOLACE, SHE HAS A LIFE, grow up Will. Will took the burnt out yellow candle from the cake, and bites into it*

*It tasted like home. Tears brimmed on Will's eyes and warm memories flooded his brain at the chocolate melting in his mouth*

*Memories of Spain- the brightly coloured streamers everyone would hang around. Abuela would be cooking a feast in the kitchen , so Will would wake up to the scents of heaven filling the house and smooches from Ma. He'd bound down the stairs and promptly be told that even though it was his birthday he still had to brush his teeth. Will would get it done as fast as possible, then go and help Ma bake cookies and cupcakes. He'd go outside and immediately be pelted with shouts and cries, hugs and noogies from the neighbourhood kids. Then, after being fed like a king, at night, the family would gather and Will would blow out the candles, and cut the cake to find the clue at the center*

*He'd use the clue to find others to find his gifts, which only then he'd be able to open. The whole procedure from the candles, to the singing, to the cake, to the hunt, to the opening would be filmed. Will's beaming face photographed on his birthday every year*

*Will finished the cupcake, and found a note in the centre. Hollowness that had filled his heart swelled. It was a little heart with a smile, and a "happy birthday Billy". Will smiled through the tears, and he was almost home in Texas with his Ma. But he looked up and the empty lonely came back. He smiled a bit through the tears. At least his Ma had sent him these. Will knew he was going to find other notes in the other cupcakes, he turned the paper over and found another message: "Brush ya teeth Billy"*

*Will laughed, and no one heard*

-----

*That night, Will came back late, his siblings already fast asleep*

*He felt vacant again*

*Nico had decidedly NOT come out. He didn't see Aria's smile all day, and Noa never even said hi. Cresent, as per usual, avoided him*

*Will collapsed into bed, and curled up. Emotionally exhausted*

*He missed home. He missed his Ma. He mourned his life. He mourned the Will Solace he used to be, the one everyone sees, the one everyone wants. Campers look at him, but its not him they see, they see the Will they knew, the Will he'll never live up- hell he doesn't even remember the memories, HE DOESN'T KNOW THAT WILL. He missed Nico. He missed being loved. He missed so much. He hated this overwhelming, all consuming loneliness. It's like his life has been reset, and everyone is treading on eggshells, and he was deserted by those he loved most all over again*

*For his "special day" he sure as hell didn't feel it- DON'T BE SELFISH SOLACE. he felt nothing at all, and while that may be a blessing some days, today he hated it. Hated himself. Hated living*

*When he had gone to pick up Nico's tray he saw that Nico hadn't taken the note. He always took the note. Will didn't bother placing another one with the next tray*

*Something consumed him*

*That night, Will cried himself to sleep*

[burnforyou]

say yes to heaven

pairing: boyfriend!Jack Schlossberg x figure skater!girlfriend!reader

summary: Christmas in New York City with Jack. He's a sappy baby.

"the city is so beautiful during this time of the year," you say, gazing upon the colorful Christmas lights that give the hibernating trees life in the cold winter. the snow falls around you delicately, leaving cold patterns on your shoulders. the storefronts you walk past are perfectly decorated, advertising the most popular holiday gifts this year. Jack squeezes your hand.

"not as beautiful as you," he smiles down at you, his eyes shining as bright as the lights.

"oh, stop it," you giggle, extending your connected arms as you move away from him.

"come 'ere," he says gruffly, pulling you back in with a slight smile. he slinks his arm around your shoulder and you creep your hand under his jacket, feeling his lower back, basking in his warmth against the cold air. you round the corner, letting Jack led the way. when you're with him, you relax and let him lead you. he could lead you to the end of the world and you'd happily follow. little did you know, Jack was riddled with anxiety the whole walk.

the bright lights of the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree illuminate your face and your heart.

"wow," you breathe out, your breath appearing in the cold air. Jack smiles down at you, his eyes so full of love.

"is it better than you imagined?" he asked with a nervous smile.

"way better." you don't take your eyes off the scenery, admiring the empty ice rink.

"Mr. Schlossberg?" a male voice sounds from behind you. Jack turns around, moving you with him. he holds two pairs of ice skates in his hands. you gasp and smile up at jack.

"thank you," he says, taking the skates. "here," he hands him a wad of cash, "give him your purse," he whispers to you. you hand the man the purse and smile. he walks away without a word.

"here, come this way," Jack says, grasping your hand with his empty one. he leads you down concrete stairs beside the glistening rink. you cant tear your eyes off the golden statue, sat below the tree.

"sit here," he offers, placing the skates on a bench. he brushes the light snow flurries off the seat and pats it, indicating you to sit down. you sit down and he kneels on the ground before you, slipping off your ugg boots. you admire his perfect features from above, small flurries landing on his nose and dark hair. he pushes the skate onto your foot and laces it up. you run your finger nails through his hair and he smiles, feeling the butterflies in his stomach.

"I love you," you say through your smile, tilting his head up to look at you. he tears his eyes from your skate to your face, his deep brown eyes blazing and his cheeks pink. he bites his lip and stares at you. his palms get sweaty and he takes shallow breaths. he goes back to tying your skates for you, enjoying taking care of you. he quickly puts his skates on and leads you to the rink. you glide onto the rink together, your actions smooth from years of skating.

"you should show me some of your moves," he says, his smile never leaving his face, "you know how much I love watching you skate." you let go of his hand and glide in front of him, turning around once you're a few feet away. the lights from the tree reflecting below your feet.

"what do you want me to do?"

"do one of those pretty glides, where you balance on one foot and the other one goes up," he suggests, pulling his phone out of his pocket. you skate around the rink, focusing on your balance and pretending like he's not watching. you feel his hot stare on you. he can't take his eyes off of you. he starts recording you on his phone as you round the turn and hold your breath, lifting your leg up and strengthening your core like you've done thousands of times before. the wind on your face and the sound of your skate scratching the ice comforts you. getting to share your joy for skating with Jack is so special. he never gets tired of watching you.

you gracefully complete the move for him and skate back to him, pretending to bow and wave to a crowd. he claps for you.

"wonderful, beautiful," he praises, clapping. you feel his praise in your stomach. "now, come here," he says, putting his arm around your shoulder. "I have something to show you." he guides you closer to the golden sculpture. you admire the details in the art.

"this is Prometheus, a Greek titan. he's meant to represent human striving, new frontiers, like new beginnings or discoveries. he's sat on a mountain, which is earth. but to me, he's sat on all that has come before him. he's sitting on history. he's surrounded by the fountain," he points to the water around the bronze statue, "which represents the sea. to me, he's surrounded by the present. and there, circling him is the ring of the zodiacs, or the heavens. and that's the future. a bright future full of stars and stories. that's what I want with you, y/n." you rip your eyes away from the art and look up at him, his eyes already on you.

"y/n, I-," he sighs, closing his eyes and starting again. his eyes glisten with tears and yours reflect his.

"these past 2 years i've spent with you have been the best years of my life. when I think about it, I feel like him," he gestures to Prometheus, "sitting on my past and going into, or, wanting new beginnings. forever. when I think about our future together its like the heavens that surround him. it- it is heaven. the idea of being with you forever is heaven." you grab onto his arms, his words making you weak. a cold tear falls down your face and he wipes it away, his hand remaining on your face. he holds you, his star, his love. he guides your face to look back up at the sculpture, pointing at his empty bronze hand. there, on his ring finger, is a silver ring. you cover your mouth and tears uncontrollably fall. beside you, jack gets down on one knee on the ice and pulls out a black velvet box from his coat pocket.

"Jack," you say through your tears.

"y/n," he says, smiling up at you, also holding back his tears. "will you marry me?" he smiles, opening the box. inside is a huge, toi et moi sterling silver sing with a green and white crystal beside each other.

"Jack," you cry out, trying to hug him, you don't care how, you just want to hold him. before you know it, you're lying on top of him and he's flat on the ice, laughing in your ear.

"are you alright?" you inquire, holding the back of his head, your eyes full of worry. he sits up, leaning back on his hands. your legs stay wrapped around his waist.

"baby, i'm fine," he says, kissing your cheek, "as long as I'm with you I am perfect."

"you're so cheesy," you laugh.

"so, is that a yes?" he asks, holding the ring in front of you again.

"jack, yes!" you smile together uncontrollably. he grasps your left hand with his icy one, slips the large ring onto your finger, and kisses your hand.

"I love you," he exclaims, rubbing your hand with his thumb.

[robingoetia12]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

Despite the fact their communication had improved, Blitzø still had his walls up and Stolas didn’t know how to get his boyfriend to open up. But god damn it, he had to try.

Or where Stolas has no idea of the pain Blitzø is hiding and tries to get him to open up, but aren’t drunk words sober thoughts?

Tags: Stolas and Blitzø have made up, Stolas is a worried boyfriend, Blitzø is traumatised, no smut, angst with fluff, mentions of alcohol problems, Blitzø misses his mum, Cash Buckzo is a prick, mentions of abuse

Chapter 1

After Stolas had finally pulled his head out of his cloaca, he and Blitzø had a long talk and finally sorted the shit out in their relationship. Now things were absolutely amazing between them.

Blitzø spent most nights at Stolas’ palace and he even brought Loona with him so she and Via could spend time together. Everything was perfect… Almost.

Despite the fact their communication had improved, Blitzø still had his walls up and Stolas didn’t know how to get his boyfriend to open up. But god damn it he had to try.

Blitzø was never late back to Stolas’. Ever. Every passing minute of the clock and every coffee refill only caused the prince’s mind to increasingly fester with worry. His thoughts kept flashing to every worst possible scenario of what could’ve happened to Blitzø. As his thoughts travelled to the possibility of Striker kidnapping him, the door swung open.

In stumbled Blitzø, clearly drunk. Stolas sighed in relief and walked towards him then crouched to the imp’s level to meet his yellow eyes that were fixed on the floor. “Darling. Where were you? Are you okay?”

Blitzø, unusually silent, wrapped his arms around Stolas’ waist. Stolas hugged him back but then felt him shaking in his grip and then heard quiet sobs coming out of Blitzø’s mouth, the tears soaking the owl’s feathers. And then the frantic mumbling started.

“I’m sorry…”

Stolas tried to pull Blitzø back so he could look at him properly but Blitzø clung to him tighter, his voice rising and cracking more.

“No momma! Please I’m sorry.”

Stolas froze up. Blitzø had never mentioned his mother or any of his family before. “Darling-”

“Mom please! I love you, I’m sorry.”

Stolas knew he wasn’t listening and was too drunk to focus so he scooped his boyfriend up and tucked him into their bed. He headed out to get him a glass of water to sober him up. What he heard next nearly made him drop the glass.

“Dad please don’t! It hurts!”

Stolas nearly let out a hysterical sob but covered his mouth to stop himself so it came out as a quiet, strained cry. He could see that Blitzø had fallen asleep but then heard one more murmur from him.

“Please, I’ll be better… I just want to see Fizz…”

Stolas got into bed next to him and reached out for Blitzø’s spikes on his back and could still feel the shaking from his body and Stolas noticed how he wrapped his tail around himself. He rubbed his back gently to try and soothe him. “I love you darling…”

He couldn’t sleep after that. He kept tossing and turning, desperately trying to figure out what Blitzø went through and how he could help him but thinking about what it could possibly be made his stomach churn.

How did he not notice?

How did he not realise how affected he clearly was by whatever happened to him?

How could he help him open up?

Blitzø woke up the next morning, head pounding. He fell back onto the bed dramatically. “Ugh… I drank way too much last night, fuck…” He turned his head and saw Stolas clinging to him, still asleep. He smiled softly and stroked his feathers and went to check the time and saw it was 9am.

Shit.

He needed to be in the office in 15 minutes. He gently extracted himself out of Stolas’ arms, being careful not to wake him and jumped off the bed seeing his jacket hung on the back of Stolas’ door and pulled it on. Stolas sat up and blinked like a frog, groggily observing Blitzø rush around. “Darling? Everything okay?”

“Yeah… I need to go like now. We have a client who wants us to kill their target in some bullshit way so I gotta go.” He explained whilst opening the door.

Stolas followed him, red dressing gown on and holding the glass of water. “Do you want something to eat before you leave?”

Blitzø turned around. Despite the fact he and Stolas were a couple he still wasn’t used to being cared for. He was used to people leaving him…

“What? Uh no thanks it’s fine I’ll pick something up on the way.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket as he got to the front door. Stolas gently pulled him back.

“Will you at least drink this before you leave? You came home very intoxicated last night. It’ll do you some good.”

Blitzø rolled his eyes and took the glass. “Fine…” He downed the entire thing and then placed on the nearby table. Stolas was still frazzled from last night. He desperately wanted to hold Blitzø and protect him from anything that might hurt him again.

Stolas quickly spoke up before Blitzø left. “You’re coming home tonight aren’t you?” Blitzø looks up at him, holding his keys. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout last night, can’t have been fun to put up with me shit faced.” Stolas bent down and hugged him, mumbling about how he didn’t have to apologise. Blitzø snorted slightly, hugging him back. “Christ on a stick, someone’s all lovey dovey this morning.”

Stolas pulled away and kissed the imp softly on his lips and pressed his forehead against his. “I love you darling…” Blitzø smiled and opened the door. “Love you too, ya dork.” He left and sped away in his van. Stolas sighed heavily as the van disappeared. His heart was in his chest, he didn’t know how to help Blitzø.

But he would do whatever he could to keep him safe and happy.

No matter what.

A/N: Proof read by my sister @charliewalkersgf (she doesn’t even like Helluva Boss so she’s been forced into it lmao 🤣) and thanks for the people who replied to a post I made about the dialogue!! You all were very helpful and creative!!! Hope you enjoyed the fic!!! More chapters to come!!

[ganggangscenarios]

Unspoken Truths

Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, romance

You kicked off your shoes, leaving them haphazardly by the door, far from the neat row of others. The sound of Namjoon calling your name drifted past you, ignored. Your feet carried you straight to the bedroom, purpose sharpening your every movement.

Behind you, Namjoon fumbled. His shoes hit the floor with a dull thud as he rushed after you, sliding awkwardly across the polished wood. When he finally caught up, he was met with a fleeting glimpse of your hair whipping behind you—and the resounding slam of the bathroom door in his face.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple before letting out a long sigh. He sank onto the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking softly beneath him.

Inside the bathroom, your hands moved with practiced frustration. The cabinet door rattled open, and you yanked out the makeup wipes. A small, bitter part of you noted how thoughtful it was of Namjoon to keep your essentials stocked in his apartment. It was his way of asking you to stay over without actually asking you to move in. A silent compromise, just like so many others.

The cabinet slammed shut with a force that startled even you. You glared at your reflection, the harsh bathroom light exposing every smudge, every flaw. All the effort you’d put into getting ready for tonight—the hours spent perfecting your makeup, curling your hair, choosing a dress that made you feel beautiful—it all felt like a colossal waste.

The evening played on repeat in your mind, each scene tightening the knot in your chest. Namjoon had spent the whole night working the room, charming everyone in sight. You usually loved that about him—his ability to light up a space with his smile, his laugh. But tonight, his warmth had felt like a dagger.

And then there was her. That idol, with her flawless skin and designer dress, gliding into your space like she owned it. She’d greeted you politely enough, but her attention snapped back to Namjoon almost immediately. Her request seemed innocent—just a quick reminder for him to check the audio file she’d sent earlier. But when he pulled out his phone to scroll through their messages, you saw more than you were prepared for.

Endless texts. Voice notes. Shared pictures. The kind of interaction that used to define your own relationship before his schedule consumed him. But now? You were lucky if he sent you a single goodnight message, let alone an ongoing conversation.

You’d told yourself time and time again to be understanding. That dating someone like Namjoon meant accepting his chaotic life: the constant travel, the late-night calls, the endless demands of his career. And you had. But the realization that he could find the time for her—while leaving your texts unread for days—cut deeper than you’d expected.

Your hand trembled as you wiped your face, smearing mascara onto the cotton pad. Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet. You scrubbed harder, as if erasing the makeup could somehow erase the weight in your chest.

In the bedroom, Namjoon sat quietly, his mind spinning. He prided himself on his emotional intelligence, his ability to read the people he cared about. But tonight, watching you grow quieter with each passing moment, he realized he’d missed something important. The warmth he’d always relied on in your eyes had vanished, replaced by a steely distance he didn’t know how to bridge.

“Y/N,” he called softly, his voice barely carrying through the door.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you stared at your reflection. Your hair clung to your damp face, your cheeks streaked with tear tracks you hadn’t noticed forming. You looked nothing like the woman who’d walked into the restaurant hours earlier. And as much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t help comparing yourself to her—her poise, her polished beauty. No wonder Namjoon had time for her.

For the first time, you allowed the thought to creep in: Was I ever enough for him?

You felt amazing getting ready. Every swipe of lipstick, every curl in your hair, every detail of your outfit made you feel radiant, untouchable. When you saw Namjoon at the start of the evening, his eyes lighting up as he pulled you into a hug, you felt like the most beautiful woman in the world.

But now? That confidence was gone, stripped away and replaced with an ache so raw it made your chest feel hollow. Your dress, which had once hugged you like a second skin, now felt suffocating. Your hair, carefully styled hours ago, seemed lifeless, greasy even. Tears spilled freely, sobs escaping your throat in uneven bursts.

Your cries carried through the bathroom door, and Namjoon was on his feet in an instant. He pressed himself against the door, desperation in his voice.

“Y/N, please. Please talk to me,” he begged. His tone was soft but urgent, the kind of voice that usually melted your defenses. “I’m sorry if I upset you. Whatever I did, just... let me make it right.”

The sound of his voice only made you cry harder. Why did he have to be so tender, so him? Other men might have dismissed you, waved you off, or left you to your anger. Not Namjoon. He was always there, trying to fix things. But this time, his care felt like a cruel irony.

“Open the door,” he said again, quieter this time, almost pleading. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re crying. Not ever.”

You clung to the sink, fingers curling against the edge so tightly your knuckles ached. For a fleeting moment, you thought about telling him to leave. To let you sort through your emotions alone. But as much as his presence hurt, it was also the only thing grounding you.

“The door is open,” you croaked, voice barely audible over your sobs.

Namjoon didn’t hesitate. The door swung open, and he crossed the small space in seconds, wrapping you in his arms. His shirt soaked up your tears, but he didn’t seem to care. He held you firmly, swaying slightly as if to rock your pain away.

He pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears streaming down your cheeks. His eyes met yours, full of concern, love, and something that almost looked like fear.

“Don’t cry, my love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re too precious to cry like this.”

For a moment, you let yourself sink into him. His warmth, his familiar scent, the way his arms made you feel like the world couldn’t touch you—it was everything you needed. But then the doubts came flooding back, drowning the comfort in their wake. Did he hold her like this? Did he whisper those words to her, too?

The thought made your stomach churn. You pushed him away, ignoring the look of confusion that flashed across his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice tinged with panic as you stormed out of the bathroom.

You didn’t answer. Your eyes darted around the bedroom, searching. The bed? Nothing. The armchair? Empty. You moved to the closet, rifling through his belongings with frantic energy. Namjoon followed, hovering by the door.

“What are you looking for?” he asked, running a hand over his cropped hair.

You brushed past him without a word, heading straight for the living room. His jacket lay on the couch, and you grabbed it, your hand diving into the pocket. Your fingers wrapped around his phone, and you pulled it out, holding it up like it was evidence in a trial.

“Y/N, what are you—”

You unlocked the device and opened the messaging app. A lock screen greeted you. Your heart pounded as you entered the first passcode. Incorrect. You tried another. Incorrect again.

One more attempt.

You turned the phone toward him, your hand shaking. “Unlock it.”

Namjoon’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—guilt, panic, hesitation. His hand rose to scratch the back of his neck, and you noticed the slight flush creeping up his ears.

“Namjoon,” you said, your voice low and trembling with barely restrained fury. “If you don’t unlock this phone right now, we are done. Do you hear me? Done.”

His lips parted, but no words came. He didn’t reach for the phone. He didn’t even move.

You felt like the ground was shifting beneath you. The weight of his silence crushed you, and your voice broke as you whispered, “You’re cheating on me.”

Namjoon’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “No,” he said, shaking his head so hard you thought he might get dizzy. “No, no, no. Y/N, I would never—”

The phone buzzed in your hand, cutting him off. Your gaze dropped to the screen.

카리나 Did you do it yet?

Your blood ran cold. Karina. The idol you’d seen him talking to tonight. The one who’d been the subject of dating rumors. You’d dismissed them before because you trusted him—because you were his girlfriend. But now? Now she was messaging him, asking if he’d “done it yet.”

“What is this?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “Are you waiting for me to leave so you can be with her? Is that it?”

Namjoon’s jaw dropped, but he didn’t answer immediately. He looked torn, like he was trying to find the right words but couldn’t. Finally, he sighed and held out his hand.

“Y/N, please. Just let me explain. Give me the phone.”

Your grip tightened. “Why? So you can delete the evidence?”

“No! Just—please.” His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw the same desperation you felt mirrored in his eyes. “I swear, it’s not what you think.”

Reluctantly, you handed the phone over. He unlocked it in one swift motion, opened the chat, and passed it back to you.

The messages on the screen made your breath catch.

Your heart drops. That’s it. Karina. The idol he’s been linked to in those persistent dating rumors. You used to brush it off—because you were his girlfriend. The one he held, kissed, and whispered sweet nothings to. The one he promised his love. But now, she was messaging him. Asking if he’d "done it yet." Broken up with you, maybe? So they could finally be together? The perfect idol couple. No more hiding.

The realization ignites a fire in your chest. “Oh my God,” you hiss, voice trembling with rage. “Just do it already. End it with me. Your girlfriend is wondering if you’ve done it.” You shove the phone back into his hand, your glare sharp enough to cut through glass.

Namjoon is usually so composed, quick with his words, a master of explanation and persuasion. But now? He’s floundering. His mouth opens, then closes, his hands fidgeting nervously. Finally, he exhales sharply, running a hand over his cropped hair.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he says firmly, locking eyes with you. “I’m definitely not cheating on you. It’s... the opposite.”

Your brows knit together in disbelief. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“Please,” he says, holding out his hand. “Can I have the phone?”

Your hesitation lasts a moment too long, your fingers clutching the device like it’s a shield. But his expression—soft, earnest, desperate—crumbles your resolve. You slam the phone into his palm, arms folding defensively across your chest.

Namjoon quickly unlocks it, his thumbs flying over the screen as he opens the chat. He taps on the most recent messages, then shifts closer to you. The phone trembles slightly as he hands it back, his eyes silently pleading with you to look.

You glance down at the screen, your breath catching as you read:

Namjoon: Do you think she’ll like it? The jeweler said he’s never made a ring like this before.

카리나: She’ll love it. Don’t worry. Have you called her? When are you gonna do it?

Namjoon: I’ve been avoiding her. I feel like as soon as I see her, I’ll propose on the spot. I want everything to be perfect. I haven’t even finished the song. 😦

카리나: That’s so sweet. She’ll love it no matter what. She loves you. You could propose with a literal Post-it note, and I’m sure she’d say yes.

Namjoon: Looool. Nothing but the best for my future wife. But the song is how I’m gonna tell the fans. I want her to feel like I’m all in.

카리나: Audio file

Namjoon: 👍

카리나: Did you do it yet?

The phone nearly slips from your hand. Your vision blurs as you re-read the messages, each word piercing through your assumptions, unraveling your anger. You glance at Namjoon, who’s standing now, pacing toward his jacket on the couch.

“If you looked in the other pocket,” he says softly, pulling out a small black velvet box, “you would’ve found this.”

Your breath catches as he walks back and lowers himself to the floor in front of you.

“I’ve been carrying this around for weeks,” he admits, opening the box to reveal the most exquisite ring you’ve ever seen. The pictures couldn’t have prepared you for the real thing—the intricate design, the way it seemed to glimmer like it held its own light.

Namjoon’s voice wavers, but his gaze is steady. “I wanted everything to be perfect. But you already are.”

The phone slips from your hand, clattering onto the couch as you press trembling fingers to your lips.

“I couldn’t imagine my life without you,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “When you’re not with me, I want to be with you. When you are with me, I dread the moments we’ll have to part. You’re my heart, Y/N. Before I met you, I didn’t think love like this was real. I thought it was for movies, books, songs... But those stories? They had to come from somewhere, right?”

He adjusts his position, lowering onto one knee.

When the box opens fully, the air is knocked out of your lungs. The ring is a masterpiece, but the weight of his words is what truly leaves you stunned.

“You are the only one for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Namjoon says, his voice trembling but resolute. “I promise to never do anything as idiotic as asking another woman for advice or avoiding you to keep a surprise. I never want to be the reason you cry tears of sadness. Only tears of joy. I just want to make you as happy as you make me. And you make me so, so fucking happy.”

Your eyes brim with tears, your chest tightening with an overwhelming mix of love, relief, and disbelief.

[scatterbrainedbot]

here have a wip of a rat sons comic that i keep tearing up about while writing

(feat. tortoise papa splinter and his rat baby leonardo)

[3416]

1634 make me genuinely ill because there are just.... so few bonds in this sport where you look at them and go. that was 100% meant to happen like that and no one else could've slotted in. like yea, so many of players across the league form close bonds and friendships bc that's the nature of spending a whole part of your life sharing a common goal and space when you're like.. doing this team activity... and guys are constantly befriending ppl and moving on... but auston and mitch it's like. it's almost like THEY feel that they were supposed to have that bond... and go out of their way to reaffirm it at every turn... like they met and got along and loved each other immediately and were so excited to get to play hockey together only to NOT get to for a long while and while they waited, they ??? developed all these rituals. and these things together... their personal routines, things to communicate to each other that they have each other's backs and are building each other into their visions and superstitions and dreams, some of which we'll never know about (unless they'd so kindly like to tell us a la mitch's interview with cabbie where he says maybe some day he'll share the gifts auston's gotten him w the world. tell all book when mitch).. but their gloves and their handshakes and their warmups and even the way they walk into road games and it's jsut. like it's friendship, for sure, obviously. they get along off the ice and make each other laugh the most and have a good time, but it's also the inextricable linking of their own careers. BY THEIR OWN DOING. like they want their names jotted next to each other and that's PART of the chase for this greater goal. yes, they would have been talked about in tandem anyway bc they're out here being the best leafs ever and hitting milestones like 500 points.... 600 points... just weeks apart from each other season to season. but also it's their commitment to each other that makes them talked about too. it's commentators saying they love to play together bc they can see it. they've heard them talk about it. they watch it. "marner to matthews" "matthews to marner". they're always gonna know where each other are.... it makes me . feel. violent with love, lol. makes me feel like some things are definitely meant to be.

[meimi-haneoka]

Moon, a hole of light Through the big top tent up high Here before and after me Shinin' down on me Moon, tell me if I could Send up my heart to you? So, when I die, which I must do Could it shine down here with you?

'Cause my love is mine, all mine I love mine, mine, mine Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love mine, all mine, all mine

My baby, here on earth Showed me what my heart was worth So, when it comes to be my turn Could you shine it down here for her?

Nothing in the world is mine for free But my love mine, all mine, all mine

Mitski - My Love Mine All Mine

[pzos-amiserableidiot]

was watching tiktok and a video had the song michael in the bathroom playing and I was vicerally reminded of being in middle and high school and mom always mentioning how much I looked like my dad (his name is michael) and how I slowly was able to start noticing it too and whenever I sang the song it reminded me of him and I felt like we were overlapping too often felt like id never be anyone but a shadow or his mirror and then i began learning i was trans and now the song makes me think of him even more (he’s not a bad dad he tells me he’s proud of me and stuff there’s just two really big moments he unknowingly failed and one long continuous one but he loves me and he’s proud and he supports me and he didn’t mean it and ive learned to make that enough) and the weird flashback I got when I heard that song and overlapping with his face and how if I transitioned I almost fear I’d be his clone and yeah Anywyas banger song

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

hunter x hunter update: it's good 😭

[satoruxx]

you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.

your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—

"what are you doing up, pretty?"

your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.

as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.

"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"

his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.

your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.

"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."

you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.

"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."

"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."

"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.

"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."

"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."

he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."

you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."

"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.

but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.

his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.

"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.

"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.

"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"

the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.

and yet...

"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."

when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.

"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."