#Even though it hurt - it never hurt like this

[cherry-coloureddfunk]

And When You Move, I'm Moved, joel miller

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ daddy kink, p in v, riding, dirty talk, soft joel, hurt & comfort if you squint, praise kink, use of pet names ( baby girl, sweet girl, etc )

it's past christmas but I had this idea and fell in love with it and procrastination will be the death of me...

The night seemed to drag on forever.

It was almost 12:35, and Joel hadn’t come home yet— a broken promise that he had whispered in the morning, with a kiss to the tip of your nose, crossing his heart that he’d be back in time to hold you once more and open presents.  

Supplies were running low in Jackson, including penicillin and other medications that would be useful for a rainy day. Selfishness claws at the edges of your thoughts each time he has to go, a relentless whisper that begs him to stay—to choose the warmth of home and the safety of you over the unknown out there. It gnaws at your resolve, urging you to tell him to forget about the world, to let it fend for itself, and to stay here where it’s quiet, where it’s just the two of you.

Instead, you put your heart’s desires to rest, giving him a meek nod as you kissed the lips, which you came to know as your own goodbye. It wasn’t fair. However, nothing was ever fair when it came to your Joel.

At his core, your Joel was a giver— the kind of man who would give until his knees buckled from beneath him, and even then you were sure he’d pour what little remained of himself into the world. He bled for you, his devotion etched in every sacrifice he made, and though he’d never admit it, he bled for Jackson too, an unspoken loyalty for the town he called your home. 

So if Jackson needed something, Tommy and him were always the first ones to act. 

And all you could do was wait.

But the worst part wasn’t waiting. It wasn’t the fear of hypotheticals or counting every star in the sky and praying on each one that he’d be alright. It was the knowing. Knowing that one day your Joel might not find his way back into the safety of your embrace. That one day, the fucked up world around you might win. And it was as obvious to you as it was to those around you— you wouldn’t be able to endure that. The possibility of leading a life without him because to you, he is the world.

 Joel is the sun and moon, and the stars are him. 

You shift subconsciously on the bed, hands gripping the white sheets, a desperate attempt to ground yourself from this nightmare. You wanted to wake up. You wanted to wake up in his arms, the feeling of his breath fanning against your neck— a tangible reminder that he was yours. You longed to trace the outline of his nose with your eyes like you always did when he was fast asleep next to you— not wanting to surrender to sleep because that would mean another moment spent without him. 

And yet, somehow, even in sleep, you still dreamt of him. Always him.

Then, amid the deafening silence that accompanied the dark, the door creaked open slowly. You blinked in an attempt to focus on the figure that lingered in the doorway. It stepped through, gently shutting the door behind, and you saw him— Joel, Your Joel. 

The exhaustion on his face doesn’t go unnoticed; bright eyes now sunken, and the pink plush lips you had kissed in the morning were red and irritated, no doubt from the harsh weather. Eyes bloodshot from fighting sleep. 

“Joel…” You could finally breathe, rushing to your feet. You leaped out of bed and wrapped your arms around his neck. Pressing your face against his jacket's material, you felt his heart's rhythmic beat. He was here. He was safe.

“M’okay.” He soothed, lips brushing the top of your head as his arms came around you, “M’here, baby. M’here.”

You guide him to sit at the edge of your bed, standing between his legs as they rest on either side of you. He reaches out slowly, arms wrapping around you to pull you into his lap by habit. Once you’re there, you get a closer look at his face with the help of a nearby lamp. Small cuts adorn his face, and a prominent one that you notice lies on the bridge of his nose. 

Tommy and him weren’t the only ones searching for supplies. 

You cup his face gently, fingers ghosting the gray whiskers of his beard. He leans into your touch, eyes closed, completely melting at the contact. He shudders at the feeling of your lips pressing against every knick that taints his skin. Whoever did this to your Joel, you wish the weight of their cruelty returned tenfold—a life heavy with regret and haunted by shadows, never to know the peace they carelessly stole from him.

“C’mon, baby girl, let's get you to bed.” He rests his forehead against yours, fingers caressing your sides with a feather-light touch, “S’real late.”

Ever the giver. Even in the quietest moments, he pours what’s left of himself into you.

You shake your head gently, fingers coming up to undo the buttons of his winter coat. Once the constricting material is off, his shaky hands work on his favorite green flannel. He curses under his breath as his hands tremble. They feel numb and stiff from the biting cold, refusing to obey his commands. Frustration flickers across his face as he struggles with the flannel buttons, his breath coming in shallow puffs of irritation.

"I can't... damn it," he mutters, the words edged with a helpless kind of anger—his fingers fumble, clumsy and uncooperative. 

Placing your hands over his, you offer him a sympathetic smile and take over, undoing each button for him. He shrugs off the flannel, leaving the sight of his broad chest in front of you, revealing another scar, though this one is more familiar. It lay above his lower stomach, and you’d seen in passing within these same four walls when the man in front of you whispered filthy things into your ear, the weight of his naked body against yours, holding your hand as he fucked you into the mattress he was now sitting on. 

Still, on his lap, you moved to work on Joel’s pants, using your hands to rub at the top of his inner thigh gently. His grip on your sides tightened slightly as he let out a strained breath, peering at you through hooded eyes. Now, standing between his legs, you peel off his jeans and boxers, throwing them to the side of the bed to deal with another day. 

Joel’s hand comes to toy with the thin strap of your nightie; his fingers dig under the silk, slowly dragging both straps down your arms to reveal your naked body to him. His eyes dance along your chest, admiring the swell of your breast and the sight of your nipples that harden from the chilly air in the room. He pulls you into him, kissing the valley of your breast to the exposed skin of your neck. You giggle softly at the familiar beard scruff tickling your soft skin. 

Your hand drifts between your bodies, finding his aching cock. Wrapping your hand around his girth, he twitches in your hand with a low moan. You knew what he needed– Relief. And you’d be more than willing to provide that for him. 

“Take those off f’me, baby.” He removes his hands, letting his eyes drift to your panties, the only thing shielding all of you from him. You hooked your fingers around the soft cotton material, yanking them down so they could pool at your legs. You stepped out of your panties and closer to Joel, watching his hefty hand stroke up and down his cock, watching you unravel yourself for him and him only. 

“Wanna take care of you daddy.” Your hands find his shoulders, rubbing them to soothe the ache he felt from the day. Joel did so much for you. He kept you safe and full in many ways without expecting anything in return. You’d never lift a finger as long as he was around, and that was apparent from the first time he took you to bed and made you cum two times with his fingers and once with his mouth. Sometimes, you wanted him to be selfish because he deserved it more than anyone.  

“You’re so sweet, baby girl.”  He smiles up at you, still pumping his cock. Your eyes fall to his length and the bush of wiry hairs above it, “Gonna ride daddy’s cock n take care of him real good? Make him feel better?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Spit on daddy’s cock, baby.” 

You lean down to his length, eyes meeting his as he gives you a nod of approval. You gather the salvia in your mouth, letting it fall from your lips to his length. Joel’s eyes darkened, watching your spit drip down the head of his cock onto his shaft. 

“One more time.” 

You spit once more, and Joel removes his hand completely, arms reaching out for you. You step towards him, letting his hands find their way onto your hips. He pulls you into his lap once more, positioning you to his liking– both of your knees on either side of him as your wet entrance hovers over his cock.  Your nails dig into his shoulders when you feel the hot tip of him rub against the wetness of your core.

“Fuck, baby.” He groans, eyes closed. His hands hold you firmly in place. “She’s dripping onto me– filthy girl gonna ruin these sheets.” 

You whined, trying to move yourself onto him, but Joel was stronger, able to manipulate you however he wanted. You let out a sigh, just wanting anything he would give to dull the ache between your thighs. 

Joel tsked, “Be patient baby, m’gonna make you feel better.” He moves you forward just enough so  his tip catches at the notch of your cunt,  “Daddy spoils you so much that you're always used to getting your way, hm?”

You gasped, burying your face into the crook of his neck at the feeling of his cock against your clit, “No, Daddy, m’your good girl, promise!” 

Joel’s hand gently cupped your face, his fingers softly caressing your skin as if to reassure you that he was just teasing. He knew you were spoiled objectively but loved being the one to indulge you. More than that, he loved how much you needed him. It gave him a sense of purpose, something he would never tell you himself. He thrived on being the one you turned to, the one you trusted to take care of you. Knowing that you relied on him, that you needed him in ways no one else could. It wasn’t just indulgence; it was connection, it was love, and it was everything he never knew he craved. 

With his other hand, Joel moved you back to your original position hovering above him as he guided you to sink onto his cock. Joel’s hand was steady on your head, forcing your gaze to meet his own, already pushing you further down on himself. You moaned at the slight ache fading into pleasure from his size, splitting you open. 

“You’re doing so good, baby, y’almost there.” Joel sighed, eyes glancing down to where your bodies met. He was painfully hard from the sight of him completely stuffing you full, “Gonna give you some more.” 

“Daddy.” You whined, body slumping forward in Joel’s grip as he pushed you down so you could take all that he was giving you. He was thick and hot inside of you, his member pulsing at the feeling of being where he’d longed to be– and almost always ended up every night.

“I know, baby girl, I know.” He soothed, kissing your cheek. He let you move against him a bit, letting you feel how deep he was inside you. Your gaze cast downwards to see where you disappeared inside of him, his cock buried snugly in your warmth. 

Joel’s hands guided you up and down, setting the rhythm for you to mimic. You held a death grip on his shoulders, rolling your hips on top of him, a little cautious, not wanting to disappoint him. Joel noticed your apprehension and offered you an encouraging smile, his warm and steady gaze melting away your nerves. He knew how much you wanted to be his good girl, but to him, there was nothing you could ever do that would disappoint. Even if you faltered, even if you stumbled, in his eyes, you could never truly fall short.

“Fuck, look at you. Got the prettiest thing in all of Jackson bouncin’ on my lap.” He praised you with a moan, throwing his head back and focusing on how well your body always took him, “Doing such a good job for daddy.” 

You watched Joel’s eyes rake all over your naked form, moaning when you’d sink back down onto his cock. His hands had reclaimed their place at your sides, moving you against him at a faster pace. One of your hands came to rest on the side of his face as you asked breathily, “Like this?” 

You rode him at the pace he wanted, pulling his forehead to rest against your own, wanting to feel him as close as possible, though it probably wasn’t possible. Close would never be enough for you. You’d always want more when it came to Joel. The dark hairs at the base of his cock brushed against your clit whenever you sank onto him, spurring you on further. 

“So fuckin’ sweet to me.” He nodded, confirming your earlier question, one hand gripping at your breasts as he licked at the nipple of the other. His tongue swirled around the bundle of nerves making your back arch in pleasure. He loved how you wanted to please him. You really were his good girl. He pulled his mouth off with a pop, “S’just what you needed huh? My perfect girl’s little pussy was just beggin’ t’be full o’me?” 

You wanted to respond, but the feeling of him engulfing you made it impossible. Your face contorted the feeling of euphoria rushing over you when you felt Joel’s hips move upward on their own accord, meeting your movements to fuck you even harder. 

Joel.

Joel.

Joel. 

It was like a mantra in your head. It was all too much. 

‘Daddy, I– I think m’ gonna-” You whined into the crook of his neck. Joel knew your body well enough that he didn’t need you to tell him when you were close; he always felt it. He felt your hot tears drip onto his chest, bringing his hand up to tangle into your hair as he kept up his powerful thrusts into you. 

“Cum for me baby girl, s’okay you can do it.” He breathed out, his hand stroking your scalp, “I’ll take care of you. Let go f’me.” 

So you did. You came hard, trying to muffle your cries by covering your mouth with Joel’s shoulder, which was damp from your tears. Your walls gripped Joel’s cock, throbbing as you came undone on top of him, eliciting a deep groan from the back of his throat. With what little energy he had left, both of his hands came to grip the undersides of your thighs as he fucked into you. 

His hips stuttered, a sign to you that he was going to come as well. Your walls squeezing him allowed that final push he needed as he emptied himself into you. 

You were both left wrecked. Heavy breathing against sweaty skin pressed against each other. Joel’s arms enveloped you, gently rubbing your back as you tried to catch your breath, “Stay inside, please?” 

“Okay, baby,” he chuckled, burying his nose in your hair and taking a deep breath. Your head rested on his shoulder as he held you close, keeping you pressed firmly against him. “Do you still want to open presents?”

“After round two, definitely.”

[helenisaweirdo]

the small bundle covered in blankets felt heavy in kaiser’s hands. kaiser was by no means weak in; but when the previously crying baby was coaxed by your exhausted voice to sleep, millions of doubts weighed down on kaiser—even heavier than the weight of his father’s hands on kaiser’s neck when he was a child.

“i think she’s fond of you. she must have heard those conversations you had with her when she was still in my stomach.”

your small, almost inaudible voice brought your husband out of his trance. the soft blonde hair peeking out of the pale blue beanie—the hair most definitely being inherited from kaiser—were like golden rays of sun. kaiser looked down at you, sitting down on the bed you were currently lying down. kaiser moved his gaze to his daughter, who slept peacefully.

“i don’t know,” he swallowed, a tattooed hand gently caressing his daughter’s cheek. “am i…really cut out to be a father? what if i become just like him? what if i accidentally hurt her just like that piece of scum did with me? what if she hates me? what if—“

your eyes soften, remembering the days in your childhood with kaiser, when he was always playing with the stray dogs while soot and bruises, and sometimes even blood, ornamented his body. you’ll never forget the days when you were both 14, when he finally told you; his father’s treatment of him, his father’s constant drinking, how his mother left him, and how his goal was just…to be loved.

and that’s when you realized: he had no home—no an emotional one, at least. a boy who was never taught manners or how to survive or how to properly speak, a boy who was never taught what was good for him and what was bad for him. and he never even went to school either until bastard münchen taught classes.

you reached forward to reach his hand, kaiser once against moving his glance to you. “michael, you won’t. i know you won’t. you’re not him, michael. you’re you. and unlike when you were growing up, i won’t leave you or our daughter. ever.” you brought his tattooed hand up to your lips. “it’ll be hard, but im sure it will all turn out okay, michael.”

and suddenly kaiser feels a sting, tears beginning to pool at the brim of his eyes as his chest tightens. damn it, he didn’t even cry during your delivery…but when the two most important women—no, people, in his life are right in front of him, one of them looking at him like he’s the most precious treasure in the world, how could he not be vulnerable?

kaiser takes your hands and placed it on his chest—right where his heart is. he runs his thumb over the cool surface of your wedding ring on your finger, his daughter seemingly beginning to wake up, though still quiet.

“thank you for being in my life. i love you.”

———

to anyone who says “ooc” “kaiser would never do this” etc,

lemme just remind you that kaiser has stated MULTIPLE TIMES throughout the bastard münchen vs PXG match that his goal was just to be loved. another thing is that in kaiser’s official character profile (from the egoist bible), his type is described as “someone who’s beautiful, smart, and full of love”

(if anyone says “omg ness is literally his type” in the comments then im actually going to scream because i hate kainess with a passion. it’s so toxic and kaiser literally sees ness as a dog and ness’ so-called “feelings” for kaiser is just a result of manipulation. plus, ness doesn’t actually match kaiser’s type. ness is smart, yes, but ness has never been stated to be good looking in any way shape or form. in fact, judging from ness’ backstory, he might even be canonically ugly. plus, ness doesn’t ACTUALLY love kaiser. again, it’s just “feelings” that began to form from manipulation.)

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a fem!reader who instead of not wanting kids can’t have kids?

This is a popular request, anon. I've had several submissions from various users. Since the theme/idea is similar, I thought I would combine them into one.

Heavy angst ahead, folks. I decided not to sugarcoat with this one. It's heartbreaking. It's sad. And yes, there is comfort and love mixed in.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, angst, infertility, pregnancy, miscarriage, mention of surgical procedure, emotional hurt/comfort, implied abortion/d&c, minor blood

Word Count: 900

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

This time, it sticks.

Somehow.

Miraculously.

After years of struggling, of being told it would never happen, of false results and shattered hopes—it’s happening.

You’d be in denial if it wasn’t for the test results in your hand. It is solid, a print out of what your doctor told you over the phone.

John stands next to you, reading the piece of paper over your shoulder. His shoulders are riddled with tension, lips a thin line. It’s clear that he wants to join in on your joy, but something holds him back.

“Are you happy?” you ask, suddenly nervous.

“I am—I.” John clears his throat. “But last time?”

Last time looked just like this. Last time everything was fine—until it wasn’t. Until the blood and the pain and the hospital visit.

“It might not be like last time.”

John gently grasps the sides of your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You don’t have to. Not for me. Not for anyone.”

“It’s okay, John.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, and John places his lips to your forehead. “I worry.”

“I know,” you murmur, turning your face into his touch. “But you’re here. And that’s all that matters.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

It all has to go. All of it. There is too much damage.

No uterus. No fallopian tubes. No ovaries.

Gone. All of it. Gone.

Johnny sits next to you on the sofa, his head in his hands. His sigh is heavy as he rubs at his face. When he comes up for air, you know his world is shattered, just likes yours.

“The surgeon said they might be able to save some eggs.” Even you don’t believe the words leaving your mouth. It’s a farce.

“Might?” asks Johnny.

“They won’t know until they’re actually inside.”

Johnny is oddly silent. It’s not like him to be quiet.

“Are you upset?” you ask, tentatively.

“No,” he says sharply. “Not with you. Never with you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, because an apology feels right but you’re not sure why you’re doing it at all.

Johnny places his hand on your knee, squeezing gently. “For what?”

Tears pool, threatening to spill over. “For not being enough.”

He leans in, face serious. “The fact that you think that at all means I’ve failed you. That I haven’t loved you enough.”

“Johnny.”

He draws you in. “This doesn’t make you less worthy of my love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

A heartrate monitor beeps nearby. They’ll release you soon now that you’re awake and aware.

It’s all coming back in pieces.

You remember the cramping, the spotting, and then the bleeding that wouldn’t stop. You remember the cold linoleum floor against your cheek, of losing consciousness, of gaining it again only for the room to spin. You remember how cold you were, and Simon’s hands—of how his voice cracked when he said your name.

You don’t recall the trip to the hospital. You only remember how Simon demanded help while the staff told him he needed to calm down.

But he’s here now—and no one is yelling. He sits in a chair next to your hospital bed, face grim and skin pale like he hasn’t slept in days.

There have almost always been complications—always been issues while trying to conceive, but of those that have ended, it’s never been like this.

You turn your head, and as if sensing you, Simon glances up from his silent musings. You offer your hand. Simon takes it, and though he doesn’t squeeze hard, you feel the desperation in the way he clings to you.

“I’m not risking you. Never again.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Your friend opens the gift, presenting it to the gathered crowd. Everyone fawns over the set of baby blankets. There are several in total, all pale pastels.

You smile and agree that it’s a wonderful gift. Outwardly, everything is fine. Internally, your mind is still at home, lingering on the four pregnancy tests hidden in the bathroom bin beneath a pile of toilet paper.

Each one negative. Each one a glaring stain on the long list of failures.

Kyle emerges from the kitchen with the father-to-be, a massive grin on his face. This baby shower is a reminder to you of all your shortcomings. For Kyle, this is hope—a vision of the future.

And you haven’t told him. Haven’t said a word about those four negative tests.

How many years of trying now?

But you’re still young.

Don’t stress about it.

It’s so easy for others to stick their nose in, which is why you don’t share anymore.

Kyle plops down next to you. The happiness there is palpable, so thick it’s almost like butter on the tongue. You’re going to shatter it—hurt him yet again.

He presents his hand, palm upward.

You snatch it like a lifeline, and squeeze—hard. Kyle frowns at your entwined fingers. His gaze sweeps upward.

In your friend’s hands is a onesie for a newborn. Everyone coos, and something in you breaks. You’re smiling, but you sense the threatening tears.

Kyle’s frown shifts to a sad smile.

He knows. You don’t have to say anything.

Lifting your joined hands, Kyle brings the back of your palm to his lips. Placing a quick kiss there, he then kisses your forehead. He adds another kiss to spot just behind your ear.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”

No one is watching.

“I love you.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

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@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

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@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

PLEASEEEE MORE POSSESSIVE JELOUS DRACO🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️YOUR BAD SANTA FIC WAS LITERALLY EVEYTHING. POSSESSIVE MEN GOT ME WEAK

thank you for the request!! hope this is satisfactory 🫶🏻

Flutterby Baby | D.M.

feat. Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Draco finds out another student sabotaged your Herbology project.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, draco’s pov, established relationship, possessive!draco, bullying, hurt/comfort, men suck, sort of rough fingering & piv, affectionate degradation if you squint (he refers to her as a plant), blood/fighting

Draco watched as you pushed your pasta around your plate, staring absently at the whirls of sauce on the porcelain. You’d been quiet the entire meal, only speaking when directly spoken to by your group of friends, and even then, it was half-hearted, brief answers.

Both were unusual for his talkative, carb-loving girl.

He placed a light hand on your thigh, leaning closer to you. The warmth of your skin, the sweetness of your perfume, beckoned him even closer, but he ignored his impulses. “Everything alright, darling?” He asked, low enough that your friends couldn’t hear.

“Yes, just not very hungry,” you said in your pretty little voice, placing your hand over his and pecking his cheek.

He didn’t buy it. “I can track down some takeaway and we can eat in my dorm, if you’d like,” he offered, wondering if the commotion in the Great Hall was a bit too much for you.

You shook your head, another stunning development. You never turned down takeaway. “I’m fine, baby. Thank you, though.”

“Well, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll make one of these sod’s fetch it for you,” he teased, hoping to get a smile out of you. He didn’t.

Draco sighed, pressing a kiss to your temple before turning back to the conversation he was in the middle of with Theo and Pansy. He continued to watch you in his periphery as you started to play with his fingers, twirling his signet ring around and around. As much as he enjoyed the mindless contact, the delicate brush of your skin, he knew this was a nervous habit of yours.

He had half-a-thought to excuse you both, but he knew that would only draw more attention to your melancholy state, which would likely make you feel even worse. He could pick your brain later. Right now, he needed to make sure you were fed.

Casually, he picked up his fork, twirling a bit of his own pasta around the tines. Without breaking away from his conversation, he held the fork up to you, hoping you’d take a bite without really thinking about it. It was a small ritual the two of you developed during lengthy family dinners, something you often did automatically if he offered food to you. He felt you shift forward, your mouth wrap around the small bite, and you ate it.

He squeezed your thigh, a flare of affection making his heart pound. Good girl, he thought, but refrained from saying aloud.

The rest of dinner continued like that, Draco keeping your friends talking and distracted while he fed you small bites of his own dinner, your fingers twined with his in your lap. When he held up a bite and you gave small shake of your head, he knew it was because you were actually full, and he set his fork down, satisfied. For now.

That night in the common room, you were curled up in your chair by the fire, a book open in your lap while everyone pretended to study around you. He watched your eyes, your hands curled around the cover, and you were motionless. No pages turned, no lines devoured.

His worry deepened. Blaise seemed to notice as well, and gave him a curious look, dark brow raised. And of course, Theo caught the exchange, but turned back to his work, pretending he didn’t.

A prickle of suspicion climbed Draco’s neck. Typically, Theo was the first one to make a fuss over someone being in a sour mood due to his inability to tolerate negative emotions, but this time, he stayed silent.

Very odd, indeed.

But he could worry about Theo later. Draco lifted himself from the couch and walked over to you, dropping onto the floor in front of your chair. He tilted his head back, resting it against your shins. You reached down, dragging your fingers through his hair while you continued “reading” your book. He let his eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and tried to think of a way to draw you out of your head.

Lips pressed against his forehead, your perfume wafting over him, and he hummed in appreciation, reaching up to cradle your face. You leaned your cheek into his palm, and he titled his head back a little further to connect your lips in a soft kiss.

Your lips moved against his, brief and tender, and some of his tension unwound. It didn’t seem that you were upset with him, which was a relief. But, he wasn’t any closer to figuring out what exactly was troubling you.

“I’m going to go to bed,” you murmured in his ear, and he blinked in surprise, checking his watch.

It wasn’t even nine o’clock.

“So early, love? Are you feeling alright?” He turned to face you, rising to his knees. The group noticed, but he was too concerned to care. He placed the back of his hand on your forehead, your cheek, your neck, but you waved him away.

“I’m fine, D. Just tired,” you said, averting your eyes from his and rising from your chair.

“Baby—”

You leaned down and kissed him again, cutting off his protest. “I love you, I’ll see you in the morning,” you said, pecking his cheek one more time before walking towards the girls dormitory and ascending the stairs.

Draco slumped back to the ground, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“What did you do to her?” Pansy accused after a moment of tense silence.

“Nothing,” he snapped, though it was mostly toothless.

“She was acting strangely at dinner too,” Blaise noted. “She didn’t even have dessert.”

“Yeah, and she loves those chocolate things—what are they called?” Theo chimed in.

“Cauldron cakes,” Draco answered, glaring at them, irked that they were paying that close of attention to you. That was his job.

“Are you going to follow her?” Blaise asked, glancing at the stairs.

“No, he should give her some space,” Pansy said, giving him a pointed look.

“I’m perfectly capable of managing my girlfriend’s needs. Thank you,” he bit, and they fell quiet. He would leave you be, for now, but if you were still in a funk tomorrow evening, he’d be forced to intervene.

You were decidedly still unlike yourself come the following morning, and when he saw you during your shared Potion’s class. He continued to monitor the situation, trying to be patient like you often asked him to be, but that went out the window when you returned from your Herbology class with Theo in tears.

As soon as Draco saw your red and puffy eyes, he was on his feet. You ran straight into his chest, burying your wet face in his robes and digging your chilled hands into his back, trembling as your tears returned in earnest.

“Darling, what’s happened? What’s going on?” He cooed, wrapping his arms around your shaking torso, petting your hair in an attempt to soothe you. You didn’t respond, just held him tighter as you cried.

Theo tried to slip around the two of you, but Draco pinned him with a glare.

“What happened?” Draco hissed at him.

“Her Flutterby bush is dying,” Theo whispered, and you started to cry harder.

Shit. You’d slaved half the semester over this Flutterby bush in Herbology, it was your pride and joy, and you often stayed after hours with Professor Sprout to tend to it and the rest of the greenhouse. You had the greenest thumb Draco had ever encountered, and that plant was your baby. There was no way it would just suddenly die.

Draco raised a brow, and Theo made a ‘tell you later’ face. He nodded his head to dismiss his friend and turned his attention back to you, his poor, sensitive girl.

“Baby, it’s going to be alright. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s going on—”

You shook you head. “It doesn’t make sense,” you sniffled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “It was perfectly fine. There’s no bugs or blights, I don’t understand.” You lifted your face, cheeks streaked with tears and lashes spikey, your eyes rimmed with red. The state of you made his heart ache.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispered, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs and pressing a kiss to your nose. “If anyone can save it, you can. You’re brilliant, love.” He used his sleeve to wipe your eyes and your nose before bundling you into his side. “Come on, relax for a bit with Pansy. That’ll help you think a little more clearly, yeah?”

You nodded, letting him deposit you on the couch beside your friend, who immediately abandoned what she was doing to fuss over you.

He kissed the top of your head, satisfied that you were well looked after for the time being. “I love you, I’ll be right back, okay?” He murmured, and you nodded again.

Theo was waiting for him in the hall. “Okay, so don’t get mad,” he said, holding his hands up.

Draco’s anger instantly flared. “Don’t give me a reason to get mad then.”

“She told me not to tell you because she knew you’d get all—” Theo gestured vaguely at Draco. “All…this.”

“Out with it, Nott,” he growled, fully prepared to punch his best friends nose through the back of his skull. What could you possibly want to keep from him?

“We think someone poisoned her plant,” Theo said, grimacing.

Draco froze, rage flaring so suddenly it darkened his vision. “What?” he snarled.

“We can’t say for sure yet,” Theo said hurriedly, trying to get ahead of the oncoming storm. “But there’s this one guy—”

“Who?”

“Reinhardt? Renfield? Something like that, I don’t know, he’s a Gryffindor. But he—Draco, where are you going?”

Draco was already halfway down the hall, formulating a plan in his mind about how to find this guy, and how to make him wish he’d never been born.

Theo grabbed his shoulder. “Listen, I have a better idea than storming the Gryffindor common room,” he said, and Draco paused.

“Go on.”

Draco loitered outside the Greenhouse, hidden by some trees, a stupid plastic ear in his hand. Theo had the other tucked into his robes, and Draco could hear Sprout beginning her lecture through their connection.

Draco sighed. This was ridiculous, he should just waltz in there and figure out exactly who this—

“Hey, y/n,” he heard someone mutter, an unfamiliar male voice, and he immediately held up the ear to listen. “Flutterby’s not lookin’ so good. Maybe I could help clear away some of the dead stuff?”

Draco's ears started ringing so loudly, he almost missed your response.

“I'm killing it just fine on my own, Renley, I don't need any assistance from you.”

He heard Theo snicker in the background, and Draco smiled. Atta girl.

“My mandrakes are thriving, thank you,” Renley replied, his voice tight with indignation. “It's a real shame about yours, though. Probably would have gotten you top marks.”

You didn't respond, and Draco gripped a tree branch to stop himself from charging through the glass to get this audacious fucker.

“Fuck off, Renford,” Theo warned, the feed clouded by his robes rustling.

“It's Renley,” the prick corrected, his voice a little louder, and Draco could practically hear Theo roll his eyes. “So, what do you say, sweetheart?” Sweetheart? Oh, this fucker was a dead man walking. “I'm willing to stay after and help you out. I'm good with poisons—”

“Poison’s?” You asked, a snarky lilt to your voice, and Draco loosed a relieved exhale despite the implication. For the first time in days, you sounded like yourself. “Who said anything about poison?”

“Oh, I—uh—”

“Reindeer, how did you know her plant was poisoned?” Theo prodded, his smirk audible.

“I don't! It's obv—it’s probably not p-poison!” Renley stammered.

“What's this about poison?” Sprout interrupted at the same moment Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle emerged from the treeline.

“Check fucking mate,” Draco mouthed, grinning.

“Professor Sprout, I do believe Renley here just confessed to poisoning y/n’s beloved Flutterby bush,” Theo said.

“Is this true, dearie?” Sprout asked you.

“Yes ma’am, it explains the strange phenomena we noted, as well as the sudden nature of the ailment. Renley’s been taunting me for days, and finally his mouth got ahead of his brain,” you said, poised as a Queen, and Draco was so proud of you it hurt.

Sprout gasped. “Mr. Renley! To Dumbledore's office this instant!”

“Crabbe, Goyle, grab him,” Draco ordered, stuffing the ear into his robes.

The two of them lumbered over the door, staying out of sight until the culprit stepped out into the sunlight, and Goyle grabbed Renley by the shoulders and started to drag him back around the Greenhouse.

“Hey! What the fuck—” his words pinched to a strangled whine when he saw Draco and Blaise waiting a few feet away, arms folded over their chests, completely hidden from the rest of campus.

Goyle shoved him to the ground at Draco's feet, and the coward was already sniveling.

Draco crouched down, nose to nose with the fucker that made his girl miserable, and smiled. “Was it worth it, Renley?” Draco asked, his voice low.

“Look, Malfoy. I didn't mean to—”

Draco didn't give him a chance to finish his paltry excuse and cocked his fist back, slamming his knuckles square in the side of his jaw. The bone crunched under his fist, sending Renley flying sideways in a spray of spit and blood, and Draco rose, clenching and unclenching his aching hand.

Normally, he'd step back and let the others get their hands dirty, but you were his girl. And if anyone was going to defend your honor, it would be him.

“No, no please!” Renley begged when Goyle hauled him back up. Draco punched him again, dead on the nose, then the temple, then the sternum. Goyle let Renley fall, groveling and weeping as blood ran down his face, his eyes already half-swollen shut.

Draco grabbed him by the hair, lifting his head up so he could whisper in his ear. “You're lucky it wasn't poison,” he snarled, and dropped Renley’s head into the dirt. “Leave him on the front steps of the castle,” he said to Crabbe and Goyle, who immediately pulled the boy up and started dragging him back towards the castle.

Blaise chuckled. “That was fucking brutal, mate.”

Draco looked down at his bruised and bloody knuckles, the pain bright and deliciously satisfying, his signet ring splattered with red. “Like I said, he's lucky I didn't decide to poison him.”

The chatter of students filled the air, and he looked up to see the Greenhouse emptying. Theo headed straight for them, glancing at Draco's knuckles and the blood in the grass before breaking out in a wild grin.

“Sorry I missed it,” Theo laughed.

“Where is she?” Draco asked.

“Staying behind to administer the antidote. Sprout is leaving her to ensure Renley is dealt with accordingly.”

“Well, she certainly won't be disappointed,” Blaise snickered.

“So she’s alone?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. He was hoping to clean himself up before seeing you, but wasn't sure he could resist the temptation. Not with his blood still running hot and your smart little voice echoing in his mind.

“Yep.” Theo smirked. “See ya’ back in the common room.” He and Blaise turned and started heading back to the castle, leaving Draco alone.

He rounded the greenhouse, knocking with his sore knuckles so he didn't startle you.

“Draco? What are you—saints, your hands!” You cried, rushing over to open the door for him. You grabbed for his hands, face pinched with worry.

“I'm fine, love,” he cooed, letting you fuss. The air in the greenhouse was thick and warm, coaxing him in like a embrace. It smelled fresh and lush, sweet soil and green leaves, like you.

Merlin, he couldn't think straight with you looking at him like that.

“Who did—” you paused, eyes narrowing. “Renley?”

He smirked. “Maybe.”

“Draco!” You huffed, dropping his hands. “I had it under control!”

“I know you did! You were amazing! I just...accelerated the consequences.”

You glared at him, but he could see you softening by the second.

“Baby, I'm fine. And he'll be fine in like, four to five business days.”

“Draco!” You shouted, but you were smiling. He fucking loved what you called his name in that exasperated but undeniably affectionate voice. “You don't have to get involved all the time. I'm perfectly capable of fighting my own battles, and Professor Sprout was working with me to solve it and—”

Draco reached out, pinching your cheeks with one hand, pursing your pouting lips and dragging you closer to him. “I'd do it again in a heartbeat. No one fucks with you so long as I'm breathing, is that clear?”

You nodded, eyes round and sweet like honey.

He released your face, sliding his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck and craning your head upwards. “Can I kiss you now? Or would you like to keep telling me off?”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a playful, smiley kiss. “Anything for my hero.”

“Anything?” Draco purred, walking you back into the long work table. You gasped, arching against his chest, and he caught the sound with another kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips to taste you.

Your tongue tangled with his, so eager as you pulled his tie to bring him closer. He guided your tongue into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing you to bite your lip, toying with your mouth like he owned it.

And he could feel how much you loved it, your hips pressing against his as your hands wandered his chest, unable to pick a resting place.

He smiles, moving his hands to grip your hips. In a quick movement, he spun you around. Your hands slapped onto the table to catch yourself, your perfect ass pressing back against his rapidly hardening cock.

“Draco,” you whined, trying to look over your shoulder at him.

He tsked, sliding up your skirt, admiring the way his ruined knuckles looked against the soft flesh. “Do you want me to be gentle with you, darling?” He already knew what your answer would be, especially after a few stressful days, but he felt inclined to double check.

You shook your head side to side, pressing your ass back into his hands. “No.”

He smiled, squeezing the ample flesh, then delivered a swift slap that made you gasp. “That's my girl. You want me to scare away all those bad thoughts? Turn your brain off for a bit?” He slid his right hand between your legs, gliding two fingers over the damp spot on your panties.

You nodded, nails scratching along the wood when he applied a little pressure, moving his hand in a slow circle.

“Words, love,” he said, pausing his movement.

“Yes, baby. Please,” you whined, and his cock gave a painful lurch against his thigh.

“Colloportus,” he murmured, flicking his wand to lock the Greenhouse door. “Don't move,” he ordered, then walked over to the sink, washing the blood from his hands and muttering a quiet episkey to fix most of the damage on his skin. Some cuts remained, and his hands were still sore and slightly bruised, but it wasn't nearly as bad.

Satisfied, he turned his attention back to you, where you remained perfectly still, nibbling at your lower lip. In quick movement, he pulled down your panties, letting the fall around your ankles, and kicked your feet further apart, forcing you to lay your chest against the table.

“There we go,” he purred, bringing his hand back between your legs.

You were already soaked, hot and slick as his middle finger swiped through your sex. He started massaging your clit, quick, light circles that had you moaning breathlessly.

“Better, darling? Nothing to worry about besides being my good girl.” He moved away from your clit and eased his middle finger inside of you, his signet ring kissing your entrance before he curled his finger up. Your walls fluttered around him, sucking back against his finger when he pulled it out, only to graciously stretch for him when he added a second.

“Fuck, D,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his hand. “You said you wouldn't be gentle “

He smirked, enraptured with the way your pretty little cunt yielded for his battered hand. “Just so pretty,” he hummed, leaning down to whisper in your ear, pressing you harder against the table. “Can't help but worship you a little.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but he slammed his fingers inside of you, drilling into your channel with sloppy, punishing strokes. You cried out, feet sliding around on the floor, but he had you pinned and at his mercy.

“This better, brat?” He growled, nipping at your ear when you keened for him, unable to formulate a response. “Oh, how that fucker wishes he could see you now,” he drawled, straightening while his fingers fucked into you. “What'd he call you? Sweetheart?” He chuckled. “Sweet doesn't begin to cover it.”

“How did you—”

He slipped his fingers out to work your clit, the bud swelling under his touch as your orgasm built, and your words twisted into a moan. He tried to stay focused, keep you on the edge until he was sheathed inside of you, but couldn't bring himself to stop just yet.

“Are you sweet, baby?” He asked, swatting your ass cheek, enjoying the way your flesh rippled.

“Only for you,” you gasped, starting to tremble as that knot wound tighter and tighter.

“That's right,” he praised, undoing his trousers and taking his cock in his hand. He was insanely hard, the head a deep pink, pearly precum beading from the slit. He pumped himself twice to relieve some of the ache, then notched himself at your entrance, not pausing his assault on your clit for a moment. “All fucking mine,” he growled at the same moment he thrust inside of you, burying himself to the hilt.

You cried out, muscles contracting hard around him, and he groaned low in his throat. You were so fucking tight, gooey and supple when you weren't squeezing the life out of him. He drew back a few inches before snapping his hips forward, gripping your ass cheek in his free hand to keep you spread for him as he pounded into you.

He felt your orgasm hit the second before you did, your cunt clamping down on him a heartbeat before you screamed, your whole body locking up before going completely limp. He didn't let up, no matter how much you shook, how much you begged. Your tears left damp spots on the wood, your knees trying to buckle inwards, but he planted his feet on the inside of yours, forcing you to stay upright.

“Good fucking girl,” he rasped, snaking a hand up your spine to grip your hair and pull your head back. “Doing so well for me, sweet thing.” He was panting, the heat of the greenhouse coupled with the exterior making sweat collect around his hairline and drip down his spine. His knuckles burned from the salt, hands ached from being used long past when they should have been bandaged, but he didn't give a single fuck.

“Draco, shit—fuck me so good.” You reached back for him, nails dragging along his forearm, and he felt himself teeter on the edge of release, his balls drawing up tight as liquid heat spread through his pelvis.

“Give me one more, baby. I know you can. Then I'll water my favorite plant.”

Your pussy clenched at his words, a wanton moan falling from your lips, and he smiled. You were such a little freak, his little freak, and he loved you all the more it.

“You like being my pretty little houseplant? All mine to take care of?” Fuck, he was close, rambling in an attempt to distract himself and spend just a little longer in the delicious heat of your body.

“Yes, yes—fuck!” You were coming again, your whole body convusling as it ripped through you, and he was done for. He came with a yell, hips stuttering against your ass as he pumped rope after rope of release into your spasming cunt.

“Bloody hell, baby,” he moaned, bracing his hands on the table as he came down, his hips involuntarily rocking into your greedy warmth. You, poor thing, were left drooling and trembling, completely boneless, held up entirely by the table and his hips. He leaned forward, pressing kisses into your hair. “Did so good, love. So fucking perfect,” he murmured, throat tight with affection.

“Squishin’ me,” you giggled, squirming beneath him, and he straightened, nearly toppling over himself at the weak feeling in his knees.

“Sorry, darling,” he chuckled, and you groaned, pushing yourself up on trembling arms. He moved his feet, letting you close your legs, and he hissed through his teeth at the new tightness around his softening cock, stealing a final thrust before slipping out of you.

“Mm, how did you know he called me sweetheart?” You asked, peeking over your shoulder at him while he grabbed his wand to clean you both up.

“I have my methods,” he replied, righting your clothes and helping you stand up, relishing in the lingering tremble in your limbs.

“Were you spying on me, Draco Malfoy?” You teased, tugging him down by the tie so you were face to face.

He smirked. “Perhaps.”

“What a horrible invasion of privacy,” you snickered, giving him a playful peck.

“You want to punish me for it?” He nipped at your lower lip and you grinned, pushing lightly on his chest.

“Enough you, I have to administer the antidote before my plant gets any sicker.”

“Good thing I already cured mine,” he teased, and you swatted him before slipping out of his arms.

“You're insufferable.”

“And you're adorable.”

You grabbed some items from the shelves and a watering can, then paused, turning to look at him, a deadly serious look on your face. “Can we get takeaway after this?”

He snorted, his heart doing a giddy little flip. “Of course we can.”

[tojislibrvry]

★ ︵ @ nanami / reader , dēgrādatīon , smūt , mentions of sexual harassment , using your safe word

nanami loves being a little rough w you, a little condescending. he loves to see tears collecting on your lash line just so he can kiss them away and hold you close. he knows that you enjoy this dynamic too, that you enjoy being treated like this. you've said so multiple times.

but sometimes he can go overboard.

like this time, where kento has you in a mean mating press, your legs on his shoulder shaking as he thrusts deeper into you, you can feel him all the way up to your throat — so full of him. you feel like your cervix might bruise the way he pulls back and pushes in, a single thrust knocking the wind out of you.

"k-kento! s'too much—" you sob, mind far gone, "—please, just a mo-ment!" you whine, pulling him close and muffling your cries on his shoulder.

he doesn't stop, his cock filling you up with an unforgiving pace. you already had cum on his fingers once and you could feel your second orgasm of the night approaching.

"fuck! just take it—" he grunts, groaning in your ear, "that's all you are good for yeah? fuck, don't you dare cum right now, filthy slut—"

your eyes widen, even though you usually wouldn't be surprised. you loved it when he talked to you like this.

something about being catcalled on your way to work and then being hit on by your manager made his words seem real.

it made you feel like, you truly were only good for this.

"k-kento?" you say, nails digging deep into his muscles, "—i can't!" you are barely able to complete your sentence when his thumb begins to play with your clit, broken moans bouncing off the walls.

"shut the fuck up and take it like the whore you are —" he moans as he pushes in deeper than possible.

"kento! stop... red! no more—" you yell out finally, tears spilling out of your pretty eyes, your hands tapping thrice on his shoulder.

it takes nanami a moment to register what was going on, and he almost immediately pulls out. he looks at you, eyes confused but affectionate.

"my sweet girl... i am so so sorry" he whispers, "what's wrong baby? was that t' much?" he sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, peppering soft kisses on your face.

he sees you struggling to answer and immediately silences you with a kiss.

"you don't need to answer, my love. take your time baby, let's get you cleaned up now." he carries you to the shower and holds you as he cleans you up.

"my girl's the prettiest, love you so much sweetheart." he says while he dries you with a soft towel, dressing you in your favourite tshirt of his.

he makes sure to kiss you everywhere, and tells you how much he loves you.

"sorry k-kento, just had a really bad day, i thought if you just treated me like usual, everything would be fine." his eyes mist over.

"oh...pretty, whenever you have a bad day, you need to tell me. that's what im here for, here for you." he leans over to kiss you softly, lips lingering.

"let's watch grey's while we eat some leftovers, and after that if you want, we can talk about your day."

you smile at him, knowing you lucked out with love when he held you again.

.

not so nice! nanami who tracks down the man who had cat called you with the help of his connections and makes sure he is never able to talk again.

not so nice! nanami who gets the HR immediately involved and gets that manager blacklisted so no one can hurt his pretty girl again.

[salvieslovenotes]

clingy Vi headcanons

never not thinking about her ahh

When out in public it's suddenly like she's a child again. Crossing the road? She's gripping onto your arm. Always tugging on your hand to point out random things (movie ads at bus stops, a cool car, a literal plane in the sky, anything).

And don't get me started on the handholding. Even when it's boiling out, you find her fingers slotting with yours anyway. When you pull away, saying it's too sweaty and hot, she full on pouts. "But I just wanna..." she'll say, those puppy eyes of hers looking at you all hurt and pleading that you always give in.

And when both your hands are full, carrying shopping or coffee, she'll take it from you, somehow always managing to hold everything in one hand so she can offer her free hand with a smile like soo... you gonna take it then? But if you're busy on your phone or something, she'll find another way to hold onto you. Often you don't even realise it until you turn and feel a tug. And oh, she's gripping onto your jacket sleeve, slipped her hand into your coat pocket.

When waiting in line, standing at the counter, pausing anywhere for a literal second, she's there. Sometimes you don't even know where she comes from, she just pops up out of nowhere the moment you pause, slipping her arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. "I thought you were out..." you say, confused, waiting for the coffee machine to heat up and the moment you're standing still she's wrapping herself around you, heat radiating off her as always. "Was..." she mumbles against your shoulder. "Back now."

When you're lying on the sofa watching TV, she's squeezing between your back and the cushions, even though there's virtually no room. "What are you doing...?" you ask, even as you adjust your position so she can slide her arms around you. "Just wanna hold you for a bit..." comes the muffled reply.

Giving your bum a cheeky slap every time you bend over while cleaning, putting on shoes, basically at every opportunity she gets. When you scowl at her, pretending to be annoyed, she raises her hands, grinning and not looking at all sorry. "Well, you were right there so... what's a girl gotta do...?"

Kisses on your cheeks and hands and fingers. When you're out it never fails to make you flustered. Holding your hand, but then she needs to reach into her back pocket for her wallet to pay for something. Rather than just dropping your hand, even for the brief moment it takes her to pay, she'll press a quick kiss to your knuckles, folding your hand over the crook of her elbow so you're still holding onto her. Then taking your hand again as soon as she's tapped her card, her other hand sliding around your waist as if to make up for the momentary loss of contact.

Her thumb rubbing small circles over your knuckles, your hipbone, waist—wherever her hand happens to be settled. Sometimes it's nice, a soft comfort. Other times it's... distracting. You're in the supermarket, reading the ingredient list on a packet, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate with the absent thumb Vi is rubbing up and down the base of your spine where she's got her hand settled in the small of your back. "Vi please, we'll be here all day if I can't focus..." and "Hmm? But I'm not doing anything..." comes the innocent reply.

It gets to the point where you literally can't go to the beach with her (there are children, for god's sake!!) because she absolutely cannot stop herself from touching you. All. the. time. If you're sunbathing, she's draped herself half atop you ("Vi! I'm trying to tan!" you protest, laughing as you try and shove her off). Her arms are always looped around you, she's always pressing kisses over your bare shoulders, fingers absently trailing your thighs so you're breathless.

It's gotten to the point where she's almost always touching you in some way, and you love it.

[pochaccoups]

cw — dry humping, making out, handjob, pet names ‘baby’ and ‘pretty girl’, best bf cheol (minors dni)

It’s a confession you make half-hoping Seungcheol doesn’t hear you: “you’re so hard. Let me jerk you off.”

You say it in the heat of the moment, utter it against his lips, reluctant partly because it’s perverted, it’s obscene, and it’s just utterly desperate of you, and partly also because you’re supposed to be taking it slow with him. You’ve had too many relationships go to shit when you fucked them right off the bat and found out after that you’d had nothing in common. Then you met Choi Seungcheol, who seemed a little too good to be true, and from the moment you’d told him you didn’t want to rush into any kind of intimacy just yet, he was more careful with your boundaries than you yourself.

For the last God-knows-how-long though, you’d sat in his lap, rutting yourself against him while he stole your breath with his lips, and fuck, he’s so hard against you that you think it must hurt, and he’s your boyfriend, so why wouldn’t you help him out?

When you say it, he tugs you away from him by your neck, not harsh or rough at all but rather in the way that everything he does has an air of dominance. He stares at you with hardened features, his attempt to appear stern betrayed only slightly by his kiss-swollen lips and cherry red cheeks, and yet you’re not afraid to persist.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret,” he says, so soft and low that he could lull you to sleep.

“It’s fine, Cheol. It won’t even count because you’re not putting it inside,” you say with a shrug and a grin.

Seungcheol has never felt so torn in his life. He wants to build up tension slowly with you until you trust him, until you’re certain that you’re ready to go all the way with him, to take the next step and bare yourself to him. Saying no to you is impossible though, especially when you make him want to give you the entire world. He’s also so, so hard, and his only options are to give in to you or jerk himself off in the bathroom alone.

His thumb traces over your bottom lip, his boner growing worse from the soft suppleness of it, from the batting of your lashes, from the carnal gleam in your eyes. Fuck it, he thinks. You’re the one who wanted it in the first place, anyway.

“Alright,” he says, and he already sounds out of breath, like the mere thought of your hand around him is enough to make him lose his mind. (It is.)

He starts to shift beneath you, simultaneously grasping your waist to reposition you ever so slightly as he pulls his sweats a few inches down his hips while your ardent fingers help him along. “But the second you wanna stop, we stop, okay?”

“Not gonna wanna stop,” you say, humming. Seungcheol pauses and stares at you, unamused. It makes you roll your eyes. “God, okay, I’ll tell you if I wanna stop. Now can I touch your dick, please?”

He narrows his eyes at you in faux doubt, only to wink at you and finally push his boxers down enough to let his cock spring free.

You feel your insides literally warm at the sight of it. It’s darkened pink, veiny, long, and girthier than anything you’ve ever seen. How can you not think about how it would feel inside you, stretching you out? Because God knows it would stretch you out. You’re pretty sure you’ll need several weeks of foreplay for him to fit.

“Cheol, you’re huge…” you say before you can stop yourself, growing suddenly timid.

“Good thing I’m not putting it inside then, hm?” says Seungcheol, chuckling a little.

He notices the shift in your eyes—it’s not hesitation, you’re just stunned. His hand soothes up and down your back, a silent reminder to take your time. For a split second his heart drops when he thinks maybe you’ve changed your mind about this, about him, and then your hand reaches for his length.

“Can I?” you ask. So polite, as if you’ve never done anything like this before. It makes Seungcheol want to smother you with kisses.

“Please,” he replies, only hoping it’s not too desperate.

The relief when your fingers finally grasp him makes Seungcheol’s shoulder sag, and he finds himself sinking further into the couch when your thumb swirls over his reddened cockhead. Beads of precum drool from his slit and you smear them all over his tip, smirking softly when Seungcheol’s breath hitches in his throat.

With your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself from making an embarrassing noise, you start to pump his member slowly. You drool at the heaviness of it, at the way your fingers don’t touch as they wrap around him, at Seungcheol’s tiny noises as he inhales and exhales.

“Think you could spit on it for me?” he asks and his voice has dropped about three octaves now. He’s careful with his words, wanting nothing but for you to do things on your own accord.

He has to stop himself from cumming on the spot when you give a nod and a sweet smile before bending forward to let a dollop of spit drop from your pretty lips and land perfectly on his tip.

“Show me how you like it, Cheol,” you say. His heart skips several beats and he wishes he could record your words and listen to them again and again. Fuck, you’re perfect. He already knew that, knew it after about two weeks of knowing you, but you just keep affirming it for him and he wonders if you know your effect on him.

Seungcheol’s hand is warm as it engulfs yours. His grip is much tighter—painful even, you would think, but as he starts guiding your hand up and down with vigour, he throws his head back and moans, and you can’t help the way your pussy aches at the sound.

He shows you exactly how he likes it: tight, and with a flick of the wrist to swirl around his tip.

“God, fuck, baby, that’s it,” he grunts and bucks his hips into your hand.

Heat creeps up the back of your neck. There’s a dash of timidness you get from being this intimate with Seungcheol for the first time, although it’s not even you who’s exposed, and then there’s desire. Wild, burning lust. He’s the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on, and he’s falling apart in your hands.

“Your cock’s so pretty, Cheollie,” you say. His already dark eyes have grown impossibly darker, riddled with want as they flicker between your intertwined fingers around his cock, and your face. “Can’t wait to have it in my mouth.”

“F-fuck, didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth, pretty girl,” he moans, quickening your pace. His precum leaks all over your fingers, so wet that there’s an audible slick sound with every pump up and down.

“Only for you,” you say, and your gaze falls to his glistening lips, and you’re moving absentmindedly towards them until you’re kissing him. It’s even messier than before, more breathless, like neither of you are holding back your wanting anymore. Your tongue licks against his shamelessly. You’re hungry for him. He settles a hand at the nape of your neck, drawing you closer to him so that he can kiss you so hard your head starts to spin.

You’re not sure when you’d started grinding on him again, rutting your crotch over his hard thigh like a dog, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel ashamed of yourself when Seungcheol’s chest is starting to heave, his moans are growing more frequent, and his cock is throbbing against your hand.

“You’re twitching, Cheol. Are you gonna cum?” you tease, your cunt fluttering.

“Yeah, ’m close,” he says through gritted teeth.

And he’s certainly honest, because a few more strokes and he’s giving a deep, guttural groan and cumming in thick, milky white spurts all over his hoodie. His blissed out face is a sight to behold, although he doesn’t let you do so in favour of pulling you in for another kiss, one that’s soft and chaste this time.

Choi Seungcheol’s duality will kill you one day.

“Did so good for me, baby, thank you,” he says, giving you his sugary smile. “I’m gonna go… uh, change real quick and then I’ll return the favour, yeah?”

“Wh- return the favour? But- that- I wanted to help you out, though, so it’s fine!” you stutter, and he’s already plucked you off his lap like you’re weightless and stood up to his feet.

“Baby,” he says, taking your hand. “I felt you grinding all over my leg. Let me take care of you like you did for me.”

[joemama-2]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ a symphony of silence

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ synopsis: if you want to know what it’s like to love someone who was never yours, ask gojo satoru.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags/warnings: angst, unrequited love, crying, happy ending, talks of soulmates

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ wc: 5.5k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ a/n: thank you all so much for 1k followers!! I appreciate every bit of love and support I have received and I hope with this new year, I can make you all happy with my work. :) this is just a little thing, but I really hope u guys enjoy it. as always, have a wonderful day and eat well!

The days feel brighter with you. 

No amount of paperwork, miscalculations, messed up orders can change the light you bring into his life. The moment he met you, he knew it was strange. Feeling himself being reeled in like a fish too quickly scared him. But if you asked him that question, he’d never admit his fear. 

His smile had a mind of its own, curling up in a subconscious way whenever you so much as spared him a fleeting glance. And when you smiled at him? He was on cloud nine. His heart beat faster and stomach fluttered like a little schoolboy when he was in your vicinity. 

But he was always careful. So careful, too careful. Like the way someone treads lightly around a fragile thing they can never keep. You were so full of life, so innocent in your joy, and he was nothing but a darkened silhouette in the background.

He knew what you deserved, and it wasn’t him. Not a man like him, burdened with secrets and a past he couldn’t shake off. And you? You were meant for someone who could offer the world, not someone like him who could barely provide anything but a fleeting moment of warmth.

He had a way of slipping into your presence unnoticed, his longing buried deep within the corners of his chest. When he laughed at your jokes, it was because he couldn’t bear the thought of you seeing through him, of knowing just how badly he wanted to be more than a passing acquaintance. He wanted to reach out, touch your hand, but the words always died in his throat, swallowed by the fear of your rejection.

He knew the truth, though. You would never see him as he saw you. You would never feel that electric pull, that magnetic force that lured him to you in ways he couldn’t explain, ways he would never allow himself to. Because it would hurt too much, to love someone who didn’t even know.

The days grew brighter with you, but in the back of his mind, he could feel the darkness creeping in. He was just a shadow in your life, and nothing more. And it was enough for him, even if it meant living in a love that would never be returned. As long as you were happy. As long as you smiled. That was all he could ever ask for. He sometimes joked with himself about just saying ‘fuck it’ and getting down on one knee for you. He would. 

Too bad his best friend had the balls to do it before he did. 

He saw it coming, of course. You and Suguru have been together for five years. He was there through every phase of your growing relationship, a background character in a main couple’s story. It’s why he felt guilty about his feelings—his thoughts. But he always justified it with a he knew you first. 

He watched the way Suguru could make you laugh with the simplest words, how your eyes lit up when he held you close. It was the kind of love that made the world feel like it had all the right answers—answers he never had. He shouldn’t be pining after you. You were Suguru’s, and the world had made that clear. But there was always a part of him that entertained the what ifs. He was there before Suguru, before the smiles and the promises, before the certainty of love that seemed to hold you two together like a force stronger than gravity.

And yet, here he was, helpless. Watching you slip further away, like sand through his fingers. You were so easy to love, and so impossible to have.

He’d gotten good at keeping his distance. At laughing along with Suguru’s jokes, at pretending to be happy for the both of you. But inside, it was a constant ache, a pain that never went away, no matter how many times he buried it under a mask of smiles and camaraderie. He wondered if you ever noticed the way he looked at you. The quiet longing that always seemed to flicker in his eyes when you spoke. But you never did. How could you? You were too wrapped up in the love you had with Suguru to ever see the way his heart twisted with every word you spoke, every touch you gave.

But maybe, just maybe, he could keep pretending. Keep pretending that your happiness meant more than his own. Because that’s what love was, right? Sacrificing for the one you cared about, even if they never knew the weight of it.

“Are you happy, Satoru?”

Your question was simple enough, but you really had no idea just how much weight it held. Not like he would tell you. His head tilts, playfully smiling. “Happy? Why do you ask, hm?”

“I’ve just been wondering…” you mutter, tracing your glass rim with a manicured nail. Looking up at him in such a way that makes him want to wrap his arms around your body and hold on tight. “I don’t want to be invasive, but sometimes it just feels…faked.”

Huh, so you’re not as oblivious as he thought you were. 

But your words hit him like a cold wave, a shock to his system. You had no idea. You never would. The smile on his face falters for just a moment, yet it’s enough. Enough to make him feel like he’s exposed, vulnerable, like you might see right through the layers he’d spent so long building up.

Faked.

That word stings more than anything else you could’ve said. Because, in some twisted way, you were right. He had spent so long pretending, so long wearing a mask that even he had begun to forget what it was like to feel anything real. What it was like to want something for himself, to let someone in without fear.

He takes a slow breath, his gaze softening, eyes flicking to the side, pretending to consider the question. “I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be?” His voice is casual, a practiced indifference, but inside, his heart is pounding.

You don’t buy it. You never did.

“I don’t know, Satoru. You always seem so… distant. Like you’re somewhere else, even when you’re here.” There’s a hint of concern in your tone, but it’s laced with a careful distance, as if you’re treading around something fragile.

He swallows hard, the weight of your gaze digging into him. You see it, don’t you? The cracks in the armor he’s so carefully constructed. The loneliness he hides behind every joke, every flirtatious smile.

But he can’t tell you the truth. Not when your words have the power to break him, to shatter everything he’s built up around himself. He can’t show you how deeply he cares, how much he wants to reach out and make you see him for what he truly is—just a man who’s afraid of losing something he’s never had.

He laughs, a little too loud—a little too involuntary. “I’m just a little busy, that’s all. Life’s a bit chaotic, but I’m fine. Really.”

Even so, you still don’t look convinced. And for a split second, he wonders if you’ve figured it out. If you can see the way his heart aches every time he’s near you, how badly he wishes things were different. How badly he wishes he could be the one to make you smile, make you laugh, in a way that wasn’t tainted by his unspoken feelings.

However instead, you just smile softly, a quiet understanding in your eyes. For just a moment, he thinks maybe you’ve known this whole time. Of course, he’ll never make you aware of how much that question, those few words, broke him inside. Not now. Not ever.

He can feel the cold of your engagement ring pressed against the back of his palm, looking over at you with parted lips, raised brows. Your expression is soft—too inviting. He almost can’t take it anymore. 

Your entire being brings him in, wrapping around his soul like a warm blanket on a cold night. Your eyes can hold a thousand different meanings, but so can your touch. The world blurs into a fade when it’s just you and him, like it always does. He can see the fireworks, feel the softness of your skin against his. 

He wants you so much. 

It’s a quiet ache, a longing that starts in the pit of his stomach and spreads like wildfire, burning him from the inside out. He’s so close to you now, the air between you two charged, heavy with unsaid words and unspoken desires.

Your breath catches as you watch him, and it only makes things worse. It’s as if you’re reading him, sensing the intensity of the pull that draws him to you, even though you shouldn’t. Even though you’re promised to someone else. But for a moment, it’s just the two of you in this space, and everything else ceases to exist.

His heart races as he subconsciously leans in, just a fraction of an inch. Like a man on the edge of something dangerous, something he knows he shouldn’t want, but does anyway. His fingers twitch against your wrist, the ring there a painful reminder of the distance between what is and what could never be.

You shift slightly, a small motion, but it’s enough to send a jolt through him. You’re so close now, your warmth seeping into him, your scent intoxicating. In a single brief and fleeting instant, he wonders if you feel the same pull, if you’re as caught in the web of longing as he is.

Just then, you blink; and the spell is broken. You pull back just enough. The correct amount of room to create a sliver of space, he feels his heart sink. “I…” Your voice is barely a whisper, as if you’re struggling with the weight of the moment too. But he knows what’s coming. You always have that hesitation, that gentle reluctance when it comes to him.

He swallows, the words caught in his throat, but the truth is too painful to speak. He can’t admit how much he wants you. He can’t admit that, despite the ring on your finger, despite everything that keeps you apart, he’s falling for you in ways that have nothing to do with logic and everything to do with his heart.

“I know,” he whispers finally, his voice low, barely audible, because it’s the only thing he can say without completely shattering the fragile barrier that keeps everything in check.

When deep down, in the part of him that refuses to let go, he wishes with everything he has that you could see him. That you could feel what he feels.

That you could love him, just once, the way he loves you.

He puts on his usual smile. He knows you see through it now, but there’s no point in hiding it. There’s no point in hiding anything anymore, is there? “I know,” he repeats. 

The words fall heavy between you, thick with unspoken truths, and yet, they feel like a fragile lie. He laughs again, but it’s different now. Not the carefree expression he usually wears, but one edged with something raw—something too real for either of you to ignore. He knows you see the cracks. He knows you feel the tension and the weight of everything he doesn’t say. It makes him ache in ways he can’t describe. You’ve always seen him, better than anyone else, better than he ever allowed anyone to. And even now, when the distance between you is palpable, when everything about this moment screams to turn away, neither of you can.

You’re still staring at him, your eyes warm but searching. You want more. You want to know what’s behind that smile, what’s behind the guarded words, the silence that screams louder than anything he’s ever said. You want to see through the layers, even when he’s terrified of what you might find.

Except that’s the truth of it, isn’t it? He’s terrified. Terrified of losing you, terrified of the vulnerability that comes with loving someone so completely. Terrified that you’ll slip away from him, like everyone else does.

“Satoru…” Your voice trembles slightly, hesitation lingering in the air like an uninvited guest. You want to say something, but you don’t know how. You want to reach for him, but you know the consequences. The space between you both feels endless, a chasm that neither of you can cross.

He really can’t keep pretending anymore.

His smile falters, his eyes dimming as he finally lets go of the pretense, removing the silence hanging in the air. He feels the weight of your gaze on him, steady and knowing, and something inside him breaks.

You know. You always knew.

“I don’t want to hide this anymore,” he admits quietly, his voice strained, his chest tight with the confession. It’s not a declaration of love, not yet. However, it’s the closest thing he can give you right now—the truth, raw and painful. He’s not sure what you’ll do with it, if it’ll push you further away or bring you closer, but the honesty feels both freeing and suffocating at the same time. He waits for your response, his heart hammering in his chest, terrified of the silence that follows. Because no matter what happens next, he knows that something between the two of you has irrevocably shifted. And there’s no going back.

When you look away from him, he gets his answer. With that, he laughs softly to himself in understanding. Not even needing to hear your soft words—whispered apologies. Because at the end of the day, he knew what would happen. 

He’s not mad at you for it, how could he be?

You’ve always been his anchor, even if you couldn’t see it. Even if he was just the one who stood in the background, quietly waiting, hoping for a moment like this. He knew that in the end, it would never be him, and somehow, he had accepted that. But it doesn’t make the ache any less painful, the hollow feeling in his chest where something once burned bright.

You’ve always belonged to someone else.

The way you look away, the way your fingers subtly twist the fabric of your shirt as if you’re gathering the courage to speak, tells him everything. You don’t need to apologize for anything. He knows. He always has.

But it doesn’t stop the weight from pressing down on him. It doesn’t stop the way his heart cracks, just a little bit more, with every moment that stretches between you both.

He should leave. Walk away before it hurts too much. Yet something keeps him there—something that’s always kept him tethered to you, even in your silence. Once more, he chuckles quietly. The sound is bitter in the back of his throat. He puts his smile back into place, masking the storm brewing inside. “It’s okay,” he says softly, almost as if he’s reassuring himself as much as you. “I get it.”

His voice is steady, but there’s a quiver that betrays him, a flicker of pain he can’t hide. You’ll never know just how much it stings. How it feels like something vital is slipping away, piece by piece. But he won’t show you that. Not now. Not when he knows you’re already carrying your own weight.

And so, he stays. Silent, distant, as you both continue to navigate the space between what you want and what you can’t have. No matter how much it hurts, he loves you. In the quietest, most agonizing way possible. And that’s enough for him, even if it will never be enough for you.

“Just…don’t leave me.” He mutters, almost like he doesn’t want to get the words out. He’s aware of the fact that he’s pushing more than he should—biting off more than he’s being given. 

You gulp, biting the inside of your cheek. A silent second passes before you nod. “I’d never let you go.”

When he’s walking back home that night, the air feels more suffocating than usual. His apartment—too big for one—is cold. Walking to his bedroom, not bothering to strip himself of his clothes as he plops down onto his bed. Staring up at the ceiling with a melancholic smile. Feeling a prickle of tears hit the corners of his eyes. They don’t fall—not yet. He swallows hard, but the lump in his throat won’t budge.

He should be happy, right? At least you didn’t leave him completely. Nonetheless, the promise in your words doesn’t feel like solace; it feels like a bandage over a wound that will never fully heal. He chortles, a hollow, bitter sound that fills the emptiness of the room.

That’s probably the nicest way he could’ve been let down. For some reason, it hurts more. 

Extremely more than he thought it would. Somewhere along the lines, he may have even somehow convinced himself that maybe—just maybe—things could be different. But of course, they weren’t. They never could be. The optimism in him is dying. 

The silence in his apartment is deafening, and in the quiet, his mind runs wild with every memory of you, every moment that he convinced himself meant more than it did. The way your voice eased when you spoke to him, the way your eyes lingered just a little too long. He had built up those fleeting moments into something real, something that could have existed in another life, in another world. However now, reality has slammed into him with brutal force, leaving him breathless and broken.

He curls his fingers into the sheets, his chest tightening. He wants to scream, but the words stick to the back of his throat. Instead, he lets out a long, shaky breath, the weight of everything settling deeper into his bones.

Tomorrow, he will smile again. Tomorrow, he will pretend everything is okay. So tonight, in the darkness of his room, it can just be him and the stabbing pain of unrequited love.

It’s so difficult because it’s more than he can bear. Even dreaming is not an escape from you. 

He lies there for what feels like hours, staring at the ceiling, the darkness of the room closing in around him. His thoughts are a whirlwind—too much, too fast, all at once. He feels like he’s drowning in them, unable to pull himself out. He shifts uncomfortably, pulling the covers tighter around his body, as if they could shield him from the cold ache in his chest. The memory of your words, of the softness in your voice, keeps echoing in his mind: “I’d never let you go.” You hadn’t meant it the way he wanted, the way he had hoped. You had meant it in the kindest way possible, but all it did was reinforce the distance between you two. You couldn’t love him. You couldn’t be with him—not the way he needed you to be.

He tries to push away the thought, but it lingers, gnawing at him. The weight of knowing that you would never truly leave him, that you’d always be there. Still, never in the way he wanted. It cuts so much deeper than he could have imagined. It’s like a constant reminder that some things just aren’t meant to be.

A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he runs a hand over his face, his fingers pressing against his eyes. He’s tired—so tired. Not physically, but emotionally. It’s exhausting, pretending. Entirely consuming it is to feel something that can never be returned the way it’s given.

He presses the back of his palm to his nose, inhaling the faint remnants of your scent. The tears finally fall, slow and quiet at first. Soon, they’re coming harder and faster. But he doesn’t make a sound. He doesn’t want anyone to hear, not like anyone would. He doesn’t want it to be known the way his heart is shattering, piece by piece, while he lies alone in the shadows of his apartment.

For a moment, he wishes you could feel this—this ache, this longing that gnaws at him until there’s nothing left but the hollowed-out shell of someone who will never truly be enough. He wishes you could understand how it feels to love someone so deeply, to want them more than anything, and yet know that your love will never be enough.

He laughs again, a bitter, empty sound, this time not hiding it. It’s a dull laugh that tastes like defeat. He wipes at his eyes, sniffling quietly, the tears continuing to fall. Then, he forces himself to take a deep breath, to stop.

He can’t let himself drown in this. Not now.

But the truth is, he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep pretending. The weight of everything—the smiles, the casual conversations, the “I’m fine” that he spits out like it’s nothing—feels too heavy now. He wonders how long you were able to tell. If you saw through the facade when you first met him, if you noticed the cracks starting to form around him immediately. Maybe he was the oblivious one. 

He tells himself over and over again: you have your own life, your own love, your own future.

He rolls onto his side, facing the wall, the emptiness of his solitude swallowing him whole. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself, I’ll wake up, and I’ll be fine. He’s done this before. Pretending, masking the pain, wearing the boyish smile he knows so well. It’s easier than facing the truth, than admitting how much it hurts.

For now, in the quiet of his apartment, the only thing he can do is let the tears fall, and let himself grieve for the love he’ll never have. 

However, one day…something changes in Satoru. He doesn’t even expect it. It’s subtle at first. A shift, almost imperceptible, like the first breeze of spring after a long, bitter winter. He’s standing at the edge of the room, watching as you and Suguru stand hand in hand at the altar, your eyes locked with his in a way that is nothing short of reverent. Your smile—so soft, so full of love—shines through the quiet moment as Suguru vows to stand by you, to love you through everything. Maybe it’s the way you seem so at peace with yourself while looking his best friend in the eyes at the altar, or the way you're radiantly glowing when you two have your first dance. Or the way you still regard him with the same tenderness you did from day one. 

The ache grows quieter. 

As you look at him, there’s a quiet contentment that blooms in Satoru’s chest. It’s not pain, not jealousy, not longing. Just peace. Something about seeing you so at ease, so sure of yourself, brings a strange sense of clarity to his heart.

He doesn’t know what it is—perhaps it’s the way you carry yourself now, with confidence, with the kind of joy that was never there before—but he feels something relieve within him. The old throbbing pain, the one that had been gnawing at him for so long, then pauses just a bit. It’s like the final breath of a storm passing, leaving behind only calm.

 Later that evening, as he watches the two of you share your first dance, something settles in his chest, something he can’t quite explain. You’re  glowing under the soft lights, and the way Suguru holds you so gently, his fingers pressing into the small of your back, is enough to make Satoru’s throat tighten. There’s no regret, no bitterness. Just a quiet acceptance.

He knows, deep down, that this is your moment. And he’s finally okay with that.

Satoru’s gaze drifts to you as you laugh, your head tilting back slightly as Suguru twirls you in his arms. Your eyes meet his, just for a second, and he sees it—the same look you’ve always had for him. His eyes don’t move from you one bit throughout the night, feeling something drift into the air. His shoulders feel lighter. Now, it’s just… comfort. A quiet, steady beat that comes from knowing he’s been a part of something meaningful in your life, even if it wasn’t meant to be forever.

He smiles to himself, the ghost of his old longing fading into the background. For the first time in a long time, Satoru feels like he’s no longer holding onto something that’s slipping through his fingers. The pieces have finally clicked into place. So, in that moment, he realizes something he hadn’t anticipated. 

He’s free.

As the night winds down, and the last few guests start to trickle out, Satoru stays behind, quietly watching the empty dance floor. The lights are dimmed, the music faded, but the feeling of the day still lingers in the air. He knows that things have changed for him—deeply, irrevocably.

It’s not that he’s given up on love. Not at all. But something in him has shifted. It could be that his understanding is that love isn’t always about holding onto someone forever. Sometimes, it’s about letting them go—allowing them to find their happiness in their own way, even if it’s not with you.

You and Suguru have your own story now, and Satoru is finally okay with that. In fact, he’s grateful for it. Because without your happiness, without you finding peace with him, he never would have found peace with himself. 

He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of it all—of everything that’s passed, of everything that’s been said and unsaid—and it’s fine. It’s more than fine. He’s not angry. He’s not resentful. He’s content.

And that’s enough.

The days that follow are gentle. There’s no rush or no pressure. Satoru slowly moves forward with his life, embracing the little things—his work, his friendships, his quiet moments. There’s a stillness in him that wasn’t there before. The pain that had consumed him for so long doesn’t disappear completely, but it becomes more manageable. More bearable.

Of course, maybe one day, in another place, with another person, there will be a love that’s his to hold onto. But for now, he’s happy with this. He’s happy with letting go—with moving forward. Because in the end, he’s learned that love doesn’t always look the way you expect. It isn’t always a fairy tale. Sometimes, it’s just a silent acceptance, a letting go, and knowing that everything will be okay in the end.

For the first time in a long time, Satoru believes that.

Finally, he just sees you. Someone’s wife.

Satoru stands there for a moment, taking in the sight of you. The woman he once loved, now married to someone else. The years have passed, but you’re still the same in the most beautiful ways. Your smile is just as bright, and the warmth in your eyes is still the same, no matter how much time has passed.

“How are you?” he asks, his voice soft, a little hesitant. It’s been a few years since he last saw you at your wedding to Suguru. He assumed, with time, that he would somehow grow less attracted to you. Less drawn to your presence, your laughter, and the way you seem to light up the world just by being in it.

 How wrong he was.

You meet his gaze, and Satoru feels that familiar flutter in his chest, something he thought had long since faded. You haven’t changed. He’s never been able to forget the way you made him feel. The truth is, he probably never will. “I’m great,” you reply wholeheartedly, your smile so genuine it catches him off guard. The apples of your cheeks rise, and he can’t help but notice how much more beautiful you’ve become. There’s a glow about you, one that comes from happiness and contentment. The familiar glint in your eyes beams brighter than he’s ever seen before. It’s the same one that once made him think maybe he could be the one to make you smile like that forever.

 Prettier than any star.  

“Things have been well,” you continue, a slight tilt of your head as you study him. “How are you?”

Satoru swallows, his heart hammering in his chest, but he smiles. He’s not sure why it still affects him this way. Maybe it’s because he knows you’re happy, and that should be enough for him. But hearing you speak with that warmth, that sweetness, it still stirs something deep within him. “I’m good,” he says, his voice steady despite the chaos of emotions swirling inside him. He wants to tell you everything he wasn’t able to before—how much he’s missed you, how much he’s struggled to let go, how he’s still a little haunted by your absence. But he can’t. You’re someone else’s now. His best friend’s. And he can’t take that from you. He doesn’t want to, either. 

“Life’s… busy,” he adds, trying to change the subject, but he knows the words are empty. He’s never been able to lie to you. You always see through it.

You nod, as if understanding more than he’s said. The silence between you stretches, but it’s not awkward. It’s familiar in a way that brings him a strange sense of comfort. You’ve both come so far, yet here you are, still standing before him.

Satoru wants to say something—anything—that will make this moment last. Yet, he knows better now. He knows that some things are meant to pass, to be remembered only as bittersweet memories. “I’m happy for you,” he finally says, his voice quieter than before. His eyes meet yours, searching for any sign that maybe, just maybe, you might feel something too.

And there it is. A flicker. A brief, imperceptible flicker in your eyes. You’re still the same woman he once knew, the one who captured his heart and never quite let it go.

He doesn’t need to hear you say it. He can see it in the way you look at him. You’ve both changed, in ways that neither of you could have predicted. Really, that’s okay. You’re happy, and that’s all that matters.

“I’m glad to see you doing well, Satoru,” you say with that same warm smile. “Take care of yourself, okay?” The weight of the unspoken words lingers between you, yet it’s not painful. Not anymore. Satoru nods, his own smile genuine, even if it’s laced with sadness. He doesn’t need to hold onto the past anymore. You’ve found your place in the world, and he’s finally at peace with that.

“I will,” he says quietly. “You too.”

Staying in your presence feels nice, no words having to be spoken when your actions do it all. Fleeting looks, warm smiles, hushed chuckles. He can’t stop his body from reciprocating. Every time your fingers brush against his by accident, a jolt of electricity runs through him. When your voice dances in the air, light and carefree, it takes every ounce of control he has not to reach out and pull you closer into a hug. Your presence is a kind of calm he didn’t know he needed, a peace he’s been missing, even after all these years.

He’s missed you. That’s okay to admit, right?

“Are you with someone now, Satoru?” You ask, sipping your coffee with an innocent eyebrow raise. 

He shakes you off with a chuckle. “Nah, no one. I’m a lone wolf, remember?”

Playfully, you roll your eyes. “Right. Well, every lone wolf needs his mate, doesn’t he?”

“Please don’t use ABO logic on me.”

You kick his shin under the table and he dramatically responds with a frown. Looking at him from the large window that displays the warm morning of Saturday. Speaking with such integrity that it’s hard not to believe you. “I’m serious, Satoru. When it happens, I want to be there for you. Your soulmate is just walking around everyday life waiting for you, I look forward to you finally getting to experience that.”

His heart melts, smirk softening into genuineness. He can’t find it in him to say how wrong you probably are, to crush your dreams of him finding his one true love one day. How could he? You just want what’s best for him, and that’s why he loves you so much. 

“Soulmate…” he repeats to himself lowly, watching you laugh gingerly before looking back out at the window. His eyes glance down at his left pinky finger, flexing it. 

Red string of fate. 

He can imagine the circle around his pinky, red and bright with intensity; glowing like a beacon of everything he’s always wanted and dreamed for. He looks back up at you, your side profile so perfectly structured in the warm light. The way your features align effortlessly like they were meant to be there. He can’t help the crinkle of his eyes when his smile grows wider and more genuine. The time he spent longing for you, it all seems to fade away when he looks at you like this. He lightly jerks his hand.  

And for a brief, suspended moment, he catches the sight of your left pinky twitching, being tugged just barely in his direction before you adjust your grip on your coffee. 

He follows your gaze, hiding a snicker behind the rim of his cup. 

Yeah, she is just walking around, isn’t she?

a/n: hiiiii! i really hoped you guys enjoyed this, while writing this i didn't feel very confident and I still sort of don't, but I really hope it satisfies u all <3 as I said b4 thank you so much for 1k followers, I didn't expect this to happen lollolol but your support has been so appreciated. with this new year, I hope to put out more works, and I hope u all stay along for the ride. have a great day!!!! love and kisses

[rikstellar]

WALLFLOWER — (nrk x reader)

summary : in which you seem to be invisible to everyone, but not to him.

featuring : jungwon and sunoo from enhypen

cw : popular!riki x outcast!fem reader, angst, fluff, kissing

wc : 3.5k

nene’s note : this fic is inspired by twice’s wallflower !! pls reblog and tell me what you think of it !

“y/n? oh, you mean mina’s friend!”

“who’s y/n? the one who hangs out with nayoung and her friends?”

“i’m gonna ask the girl from jules’ class for help”

that’s all you ever were to people. someone’s friend, the one you can ask for help when you can’t figure your homework out. you lived in your friends’ shadows all the time, getting outshined every single day of your life. it was like you were invisible to everyone, as if you were a ghost desperately looking for someone who could see you. but that was never the case.

it’s not like your ‘friends’ paid that much attention to you either, they kept you around because you were kind enough to help them study whenever a big exam was coming. you weren’t oblivious to this treatment, in fact, you knew you didn’t deserve it. but the fear of being completely alone couldn’t let you walk away from them. but that loneliness, that emptiness within you never faded away, not even when you were surrounded by people. you spent most of your time with your nose stuck in a book, studying and studying for hours just to get distracted from those feelings inside you.

you wished someone could see you, get to know you, care about you. but you were sure that if you ever disappeared, no one would notice.

someone would notice, though.

that someone was nishimura riki. golden boy of the school, he was so skilled in every sport that multiple teams fought to have him in their group. he was friendly with everyone, boxy smile always showing whenever he met someone he talked with, even just one time, in the hallways. people absolutely adored him, always seeking his attention. he was everything you dreamed to be.

you didn’t know why, but he always greeted you with a smile whenever you crossed paths with him. you two didn’t even talk once, but he never lost the opportunity to flash you a grin whenever his eyes met yours. he was like that with everyone, you thought, probably because he pitied you. you thought it was a facade, he was popular, after all. he had a reputation to maintain. you disliked him for that reason, maybe it was just envy, but you just couldn’t stand seeing him surrounded by people all the time, while you lived in everyone’s shadow.

the bell rang, indicating the end of biology class. you were following mina and jules out of the classroom, when the teacher called out your name, gesturing you to stay. you turned to tell your two friends that you would stay behind and that you would see them later, but they were laughing between them, not even noticing you weren’t behind them anymore. you pressed your lips in a thin line, unfazed by the behavior since it happened so many times before. yet, it hurt every. single. time.

you pushed those thoughts aside, walking to the teacher who was waiting for you with a big smile. you liked her, she was always kind, always making time for her students whenever they were struggling. and that was exactly the reason why she called you.

“hi, y/n. sorry for keeping you behind, but i’d like to ask you a favor. there’s this student who’s failing biology and i was wondering if you could, perhaps, help them? if they fail it, they won’t be able to participate in next month’s tournament. do you think you could do it?” she explained, her voice soft and sweet as always.

you listen to her words carefully, smiling at her while you accepted her request. you weren’t so thrilled about it, since you knew it wasn’t going to be different from all the times you had ‘helped’ other students. they showed up, pretended to be interested just to make up an excuse and make you do all of their homework for them. but the teacher also promised you an extra credit, so you decided to comply anyway.

she told you to be at the school’s library on tuesdays and thursdays, from 4 to 6, and that she would notify the student for you.

so there you were, sitting at a library table, waiting for this mystery student to show up. it was already half past four, so you assumed that they wouldn’t even show up. you started gathering your things to leave, when you heard someone run behind you. you turned around to see who it was, just to find yourself face to face with nishimura riki. people glared at him while telling him to be silent, causing him to smile apologetically and bowing to them.

“i’m so sorry! practice ran late so i rushed here as fast i could, i’m glad you’re still here! you’re y/n, right? you should be the one helping me with biology” he explained, keeping his voice low to avoid getting scolded again by the students nearby.

on the other hand, you couldn’t believe your eyes. the boy you despised the most was in front of you, big smile as he looked down at you. the fact that he looked so pretty pissed you off even more.

“uh, don’t worry about it.” you simply said, uncomfortably shifting on your seat while he took the one right next to you. you took the book from your backpack and carefully placed it on the table, opening it on the page of the first chapter. you looked over at him for an instant, finding him with his own book open at the same page, waiting for you to say something.

“listen, i know you probably wanna be somewhere else, so i’ll spare you the trouble and bring you the homework done by tomor—” you were cut off by him, a confused expression displayed on his face. “what do you mean? i’m not gonna make you do my homework.” his eyebrows were furrowed, as if you were speaking nonsense. “i’d like some help to understand some of the topics, actually.” he said, his tone was soft, yet it seemed like he was bothered by what you said. did someone treat you like that before?

“oh.” that’s all you could say. you were feeling guilty for assuming his intentions, you were just so used to it.

there was an awkward silence for a brief moment, before riki took the matter into his own hands and started asking you questions about some concepts he hadn’t grasped before. you replied to them calmly, taking your time to repeat yourself or reformulate your sentences if he couldn’t understand them. during the whole time, he never once lost his focus, always looking at you attentively and, from time to time, praising your explanation skills, blabbering about how the book made everything look harder than it actually was.

having his eyes constantly on you made you feel a little overwhelmed, not being used to having so much attention on you. you felt… seen. it was awkward at first, but you couldn’t help but like it.

you reminded yourself that he was just being nice because you were helping him, not because he was actually interested in you.

the little tutoring session came to an end, faster than you thought, so you found yourself gathering your belongings to leave. riki did the same thing, casually greeting some of his friends while he walked with you towards the exit.

it was already dark outside, the days becoming shorter and shorter as the colder seasons approached. before you could excuse yourself to catch the bus, riki spoke. “um, you usually take the 6:30pm bus, right?” he asked, scratching his nape while he looked for your eyes, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. you wondered how he knew which bus you took, but decided to not mull over it too much. you nodded, tilting your head to the side as if you were asking where he was trying to get at with his question. “it’s still early, i can’t leave you here, alone in the dark. do you mind if i wait with you?” saying that you were surprised by those words was an understatement. you could feel warmth creeping up your neck, you never really spent time with boys outside of tutoring, let alone spoke to them for this long. “uh.. sure” you replied, your voice low and timid. you think you will never forget the smile riki gave you that night.

you walked around with him, listening to him complain about how his coach threatened him to not let him play at the tournament if he didn’t pass biology, and how glad he was you were there to help him. he also asked you lots of question, such as your favorite subjects, what you did in your free time, whether you put cereals first and then milk or vice versa. and it wasn’t just to avoid awkward silence, he truly cared about your answers, even going on a long rant about how putting cereals after milk was nonsense and how inconvenient it was.

before you could realize, it was already time for you to catch the bus. he walked you to the stop and waited for you to get safely on the bus, waving his hand while grinning widely at you. he didn’t leave until he saw the bus driving away, which made you feel like he cared about your safety, but you convinced yourself you were overthinking it.

once in your bed, you stared at the ceiling, replaying the afternoon you spent with the boy you disliked so much — in vain, you thought — and how your heart started beating slightly faster when you got a message from him asking if you got home safely. you mentally slapped yourself, you couldn’t start to have feelings for a boy who was pitying you. still, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his stupid jokes and silly behavior, the memory of his laugh lulling you to sleep.

the next day, you were sitting alone at the cafeteria since your friends collectively decided to skip school without letting you know. you were used to it anyway, it’s not like you talked to them when you were in their company, you just limited yourself to listening to them brag about whoever they were dating at that moment or about some new gossip that was circulating around, while keeping to yourself.

that’s why you were startled when riki showed up with two of his friends, who you recognised to be sunoo and jungwon. they were also pretty popular, sunoo being a social butterfly and jungwon being part of the student council.

“mind if we sit here?” riki asked with his usual smile, waiting for you to agree before eventually sitting next to you, while the other two guys sat in front of you. you were still kind of taken aback from this situation, but you were snapped out of your thoughts by riki resting his hand on your shoulder.

“this is y/n! y/n, they’re sunoo and jungwon. they’re good guys, so feel free to be yourself around them” he explained, introducing you to his friends. you wanted to focus on the two boys sitting in front of you and politely greet them, but you could only feel riki’s hand on you, making your heart pound against your ribs.

“nice to meet you! — sunoo spoke, his voice lively and sweet — so you’re the famous y/n, huh? riki talks about you a lo—” he suddenly stopped, an ‘ouch’ escaping his lips as he massaged his leg. riki immediately grabbed your attention: “what he was saying is that i told them you were tutoring me and how well you explain things!” you missed the way he shot sunoo a glare before grinning at you.

jungwon, in the meantime, was snickering while eating his lunch, throwing a playful glance at riki with a smirk on his lips.

you weren’t exactly understanding what was happening, given that you were still confused by the sudden company and the fact that riki talked about you to his friends. it was probably because you could help them in the future, wasn’t it?

you had a great time during lunch, sunoo excitedly telling you about the new drama play he would star in next month and jungwon occasionally asking you questions about you. the awkwardness in you faded the more you spent time with the boys, breaking out of your shell and telling them stories of your childhood. riki was looking at you with a fond smile the entire time, head resting on his fist, thinking how nice was watching you finally open up and get along with his friends.

time flew once again, the bell that signaled the end of lunch break ringing in the cafeteria. you had learned to have a lesson in the classroom right next to sunoo’s, so you waved bye to riki and jungwon and made your way to class with the bubbly boy.

you had never felt this good before, it felt like a weight was lifted off your chest, loneliness being replaced by a nice feeling. this is what having someone caring about you meant? you wondered how you endured being alone until then, finally knowing what it felt to be seen.

you spent the whole time, thinking about the boy you were tutoring, catching yourself dumbly smiling at the thought of him. you needed a reality check, because in no way he was going to feel the same about you. so, with a sigh, you drifted your thoughts from riki to the teacher and his lesson.

weeks passed, your study dates with riki allowed you to become closer and closer to the boy. you started opening up more, laughing and making jokes with him, telling him about embarrassing moments from middle school and so on. you started seeing him outside of tutoring sessions as well, inviting you to have lunch with him, sunoo and jungwon more often, asking you to try a new cafe that opened in town with them.

you eventually fell for him, feeling nervous every time he stood too close to you or blushing when you caught him staring at you. you knew it was one sided, trying your hardest to not delude yourself and end up with a broken heart and alone all over again. you cherished his company more than anything in the world, so you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

you were walking to your locker when you heard your name being shouted by a voice you recognized in no time. you turned around, finding riki standing in front of you with a paper in his hand, encouraging you to take it. you looked at it and saw a 75/100 on his biology test. your eyes widened as much as your smile, looking up at him. “oh my god, riki! you passed!” you said, genuinely happy for the boy in front of you. he worked hard and definitely deserved the grade, you also felt a little proud of yourself at the same time. “yes! it’s all thanks to you!” he engulfed you in his arms, holding you close to his body for a second longer than he should. your face was completely red once he let go of you, you prayed for him to be too excited to notice how that brief — even though for you seemed like it lasted for hours — contact affected you.

“so..” you started speaking, to recompose yourself. “no more tutoring sessions, huh?” you asked, disappointment could be easily found in your tone.

“hm.. about that.” riki said, looking a little nervous for some reasons you couldn’t quite tell. “are you going to prom, this weekend?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes while he looked down at you.

“no, i don’t think so.” you replied almost instantly. was he going to ask you out for prom? no, impossible.

“would you like t—” he couldn’t finish his sentence, that a girl tapped him on his shoulder, completely ignoring your presence or the fact that he was talking to you.

“hi riki.. i was wondering if you.. if you wanted to go to prom with me.” she asked, her pretty, long lashes batting quickly as she smiled at him, waiting for his answer.

“oh, thank you but i was going to ask someone else to go with me,” riki politely declined, obtaining a scoff in response. he shrugged his shoulders and turned back to where you were standing, only to see that you had disappeared.

you left the moment you heard the girl’s question, tears brimming in your eyes as you felt like a fool, thinking that he could ever have feelings for you. that day, you left school early, running to your house and shutting yourself in your room. you cried every tear you had within yourself.

riki had tried to reach out to you countless times, sending you lots of texts, even calling you endless times. but you ignored every one of them. you shouldn’t have gotten closer to the boy, you shouldn’t have fallen for him and you shouldn’t have hoped that he could, somehow, feel the same towards you.

it was prom night, you were on your couch, watching some old romcom filled with cliches and cringy lines, but that made you tear up everytime nonetheless.

suddenly, you heard a knock on your door. you wondered who could possibly be at that hour of a saturday night.

you opened the door, finding riki in formal attire, hair slicked back and a huge bouquet of purple flowers — which you remembered telling him was your favorite color.

“riki?” you called softly, closing the door behind you and looking at him with a confused expression. your heart skipped a beat when you saw him — he looked absolutely gorgeous, he looked like he’d stepped out a fairy tail.

“y/n..” he spoke, his voice carrying a mix of nerves and determination. “i tried contacting you, but you weren’t replying. i wanted to ask you to prom, but since it’s too late, i thought about bringing prom to you.” a shy smile tugged at his full lips as he pronounced those words.

you stared at him, speechless. he wanted to go to prom with you? and when he couldn’t reach you, he came all the way to your house, just to make it happen? it felt like a dream, too good and too sweet to be true.

noticing your surprise, riki carefully set the bouquet on the ground. then, he took your hand in his, warmth spreading all over your face.

“dance with me,” he whispered, his voice soft and filled with hope.

without waiting for your reply, he led you closer to him, his free hand settling on your waist, while with his other hand, he fumbled awkwardly with his phone, tongue poking out as he tried to play a slow song for you two to dance to.

the sight made you giggle, finding endearing how clumsy he was.

you looped your arms around his neck, gazing up at him as you swayed together. the world seemed to fall away — there was only the two of you, the soft music, and the steady rhythm of your movements.

he held your gaze the entire time, his lovesick smile resting on his pretty lips — the ones you couldn’t help but glance at more times than you cared to admit.

as the song came to an end, the world seemed to slow down around the two of you. he rested his forehead gently against yours, his warm breath fanning across your face as he took both of your hands in his, holding them like they were going to break if he applied to much force.

“y/n..” he began, his voice soft and steady, though you could sense the nervousness beneath it. “i like you. i’ve liked you for so long, i couldn’t resist keeping it to myself anymore.” he whispered, waiting for any reaction on your part.

tears welled up in your eyes and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. riki stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering on your back before holding you closer.

“i like you too, riki. so much, i can’t believe you actually feel the same” a soft laugh escaped his lips, filled with relief and happiness. he brought one of his hands to your cheek, delicately caressing your skin. “can i be your boyfriend, then?” he asked, his lips curling up into a shy smile as he bit down his lower lip to keep it from spreading too much.

you didn’t answer his question with words. instead, you leaned in, catching his lips in a passionate yet slow kiss. his hand on your cheek moved down to your neck, while his other hand rested on your waist.

at that moment, it felt as if you were touching the sky with a finger. you felt loved in a way that warmed every layer of your heart, cared for in a way that melted every lingering doubt. but, most importantly, you felt seen — truly seen — for the first time.

[starsintheendlessnight]

The beauty

And pain

Of remember

A person always has one or several memories that they keep with them no matter how time passes. It’s a universal experience that we have all experienced at some point in our lives, it doesn't matter if the memory fades as the days go by bc they are not perfect, in the end they are narratives in construction that in some way marked us as people.

Remember something can be both a beautiful experience and a painful feeling.

Remember helps us to better appreciate things and to understand both our values ​​and past experiences, whether those are moments with family or friends or simply having a good time. They are moments that we adore and keep in our minds with affection but these can also be transformed into a feeling of sadness, a part of us that was taken away from us, a piece of our identity away from us for who knows how long or even forever.

Many times “remember” makes us feel empty bc of what we no longer have and it is because emotional pain doesn't follow a specific script and cannot even be explain only in physiological terms, it’s something more complex and irrational and looking for a specific reason would be like looking for water in the middle of the desert. It hurts us emotionally to have to remember those people who are no longer with us or those happy moments that will never be repeated. Although within that same pain you can find beauty, it is still something irrational and meaningless bc yes, you remember with love and affection but you still feel pain bc of what those people or those moments represented for you and they are simply no longer there.

A memory can appear in many ways, whether it be from a song, a simple word or… Flowers.

Sunflowers are beautiful and radiant flowers that always seem to catch the eye, they are a small reminder that Eurylochus keeps of his home while he resided in Olympus, bright and so cheerful they were the only respite that Eury kept from his already distant home, he took care of them and adore them for the love and nostalgia that they transmitte to him at those moments from which he was separate. Little by little his appreciation turned into pain, a sweet memory of his home transformed into sadness and guilt.

He refused to go back to his flowers, remember his home only made him feel worse about himself. How could he long for something that he did not deserve? The pain stopped being just that and turned into guilt. He did not deserve those flowers, he did not deserve those seconds of escapism and as he did with anything that caused him pain he just turn away and ignored it thinking that everything would be fine if he did not think about it.

As the weeks went by, Eurylochus needed a moment to himself again and he remember his flowers. He wasn't in his best moment and he needed to try to feel again that peace that he felt the first time he saw his sunflowers, but it was too late... His flowers were already dead, he felt distressed bc the only memory of his home was withered before his eyes. He felt pain, but not only because his flowers died. That pain is not going to heal by simply planting others and then as if he hadn't let them die. That pain is about what those flowers represented for him and how he let them go in the face of that pain that made him feel inferior.

Pain is irrational. They may seem like just some flowers, but for Eurylochus they represented much more than that, and it’s in the memory of what he lost that he appreciate and love what gave him calm at the time. His flowers are dead, he let them die but he loves them for the peace of mind they gave him, even though the pain and nostalgia of his far away home is still with him at least he can appreciate it a little more even though he feels sad for remember those good times.

.

.

.

I feel like I'm VERY annoying with the ClosureAU (mostly on Twitter) and I apologize for that again, a new year started and I felt like I needed to do something decent, something meaningful not just a doodle or a funny video. No idea came to mind until I watched some videos of my fav youtubers again and this idea came up. I'm sorry if I'm being so annoying with all the angst I'll try to make not so sad content of the AU I promise. Happy new year to everyone I wish you all the best and thank you for supporting me at all times, I love you all so much 💚

[sinstear]

if there was one thing that kept her at bay from anything, it would be her arm. she loved and hated that part about herself. loved that it could protect her when needed, but hated that it could hurt someone she loved. sevika wasn’t afraid to use something so powerful to keep away evil, but she would never forgive herself if she accidentally hurt the one she swore to protect. even just holding their face in her hand, sent shivers down her spine and worry through her mind and body.  

you never minded though. in fact, there were times when you’d be sitting with her or near her, that your eyes would travel away from her current card game, down her metal arm, more times than none, and just stare at it. it was beautifully fascinating to you. with or without her knowledge of you just gawking at her. 

sevika did notice one night though, out of the blue, to your surprise, when you were comfortably sitting beside her— drinking from her whiskey glass and watching how she flawlessly yet swiftly dealt her cards. 

it started with her body tensing beside yours, calmy, when you lightly traced patterns on the cool metal, not wanting to push her into anything, just being gentle and cautious with your approach. then it was the way she looked at you from the corner of her eye, seeing you sitting there, looking down at her arm— but you didn’t look scared or worried. not like most people did. you looked interested.

“do you think it’s gonna bite you or something if you state at it any longer?” her voice rang out, raspy and gruff. the cigar hanging loosely between her lips made her look ten times hotter.

“that a challenge?” 

“maybe, maybe not, who knows with you.” 

for the remainder of her games— most of the time she could sit there all day but if she has company, aka you, then she takes time to spend with you before she’s got her usual shit to do, and finally stubbed out her cigar and put all of her attention on you. 

“you’re quiet,” she pointed out, sliding the coins off the table and pushing them into her pocket. “which is unusual, you’re never quiet.”

“gee, thanks,” you glared at her, yet the way your lips quirked up into a smile, made it aware you weren’t really mad. “just thinking.”

“well don’t be too excited to share, what’s wrong?” 

her eyes followed your gaze, and that’s when she quickly noticed you weren’t looking at her anymore, more or so looking at her arm again. “can i hold it?” 

your question was an innocent one, cautious even, but to her, it meant everything. you could tell by the way her eyes shifted away from you nervously, looking at anything but you. “i don’t think that’s a good idea,” she laughed, trying to play it off. “probably shouldn’t.” 

“shouldn’t or don’t want me to?”

“is there a difference?”

she’s looking at you again, too busy focused on what you’re saying to notice the small shift of your hand reaching for her metal one. “who knows with you,” you murmured with a playful smile.

it’s only when she feels you interlock your fingers with hers that she tries to pull away and save you the trouble but you’re faster. just a little, and pressing her hand to your cheek.

“you won’t hurt me.” you reassured. as if you were answering a question her eyes were silently asking, something she couldn’t find herself saying out loud. sevika’s lips part with a gentle sigh when your free hand reaches up and cups her metal hand against your cheek a little firmer, and she clenches her jaw tightly once you’re smiling. “i promise, you won’t hurt me, you can’t.” 

“how do you know i won’t?” she asked, insecurity laced with worry in her voice. 

“because if you wanted to you would have done it when we first met.” you stated, eyebrow raising just slightly when sevika moves her fingers across the apples of your cheek slowly. the coldness of the metal tingling your skin as she moved. “but you haven’t, so.” 

“maybe you just haven’t pissed me off enough yet.” sevika grins, and it’s almost primal in the way she looks at you. 

“yet,” you clicked your tongue with a light chuckle. “there’s still time then.”

your eyes lock with hers as she presses her thumb against your lips, almost like she wasn’t aware of what she was doing, while you mischievously winked. “maybe just a little time,” she murmured and pushed harder.

the cold metal of her fingers brushed against the muscle of your tongue before you knew it and sevika didn’t know whether to moan or growl at the sight of you grinning smugly around her fingers. it wasn’t something she was used to. she’s used to people seeing it, turning the other way and getting away from her.

but here you are, greedily sucking her fingers and having no issues or worries. not caring in the slightest. “you’re gonna be the death of me,” she admitted, in awe of you and watched you closely. “and i think it’s worrying that i’m perfectly okay with that.”

[jakedustry]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑, 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 - 𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐀𝐍

Jeonghan x fem!reader

in which Jeonghan screams trouble every time you look at him, you knew that from the start. Still, you let yourself fall for him, and now you regret it as you watch him kiss a different woman on the New Year's party you both attended. Thankfully, New Year means new chance, and Jeonghan will do anything to prove you how much he cares about you.

wc 2.5k

warnings SMUT, fwb, Jeonghan kissed another girl (not on the lips), they are drunk but it's not implied much, arguing, missionary, unprotected sex, pull-out method, hickeys/marks, hair pulling (his hair), oral (f. receiving), fingering, petnames, praise, lmk if I missed anything!

↪ izzy adds... okay, I know it's already the second day of 2025 but I wanted to write a new year's special for seventeen too and had no time until now. But!! It's here now!! Not proofread!

It takes you a moment before you can breathe again, the smell of alcohol around you making you dizzy. You’re not sure how much you had so far, but honestly, you are more worried about your friends, who are currently doing another round of shots. You frown only at the thought of the taste of vodka on your tongue. 

“One more! One more! One more!” The chant makes your head hurt. You squeeze your eyes shut before looking around the room to find an escape. “Hey, are you okay?” The familiar voice makes you sigh, and you turn your head to face him. “Better than ever, so leave me alone.” He frowns when your breath reaches him, and he steps closer to help you stand up from the floor. At this point, someone will step on you. “Come with me, I’ll call you an Uber,” he offers, reaching his hand out to you. You push his hand away, though, scoffing at his sudden nice guy act. “I said I’m okay here,” you repeat, making him sigh. Before you can protest more, his arms wrap around you, and he lifts you up from the floor. “Let go of me, Han,” you protest, but he doesn’t care, letting you stand on your own feet only for him to hold your hand tightly so you wouldn’t run away. 

“Happy?” You ask when you finally step outside, the cold air helping you calm down. “No. Drink this first,” Jeonghan says, handing you a water bottle. You don’t forget to glare at him as you take the bottle from him, but he pays it no attention. “Why are you so mad? I’m just trying to help you out.” His words echo in your ears, the anger in you building up the more he speaks. “Since you’ve made it so clear you have your own life, I’m just trying to live mine too.” — “You’d make it a lot easier for me if you didn’t keep bothering me.” 

“What are you talking about?” He asks confusedly, running his fingers through his hair. “You think I’m that stupid?” Your voice gets louder as you face him again. He knows you want to look strong, and that’s why you’re yelling, but your eyes give you away. You look broken, like you’re about to cry. “I’ve never said that.” 

You groan, irritated by him. “This is not about what you say, but what you do!” You burst out at him, opening your mouth again to yell at him when he only stares back at you confusedly. No words leave your mouth, though, and you’re turning around once more to run away from him. “Explain things further, and don’t just run away,” he grasps your wrist, turning you around again with one swift pull. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

You hate how innocent his eyes look. If you hadn’t seen him yourself, you might have even believed him that he never did anything wrong. But you were there, still sober, when it happened: his arms on another woman, his lips on her neck, and her fingers in his hair. You had enough of his bullshit. You weren’t exclusive, so you shouldn’t be feeling like this about seeing him with another woman, but you just couldn’t help it. If he wanted to fuck around, he shouldn’t have ever made you believe he felt something more towards you. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know anything,” you hiss at him, your fingernails digging into your palm to focus your pain onto something else. You don’t want to break down in front of him, but the more you gaze into his eyes, the more you doubt how much longer you can hold your emotions bottled up. 

“But I don’t!” He argues. “What did I do?” He sounds desperate, and you hate that part of you believes him. “Then ask the blond you seemed to be so close to before! I bet she knows!” You yell into his face, trying to get out of his grip. Jeonghan falls silent, unable to say anything in his defense. He doesn’t let go of you, though. He can’t. Your name leaves his lips, and it feels like a knife being ripped out of your chest. 

“No,” you stop him before he can say anything, still trying to shake him off of you. “I don’t want to hear any of your ‘You’re all I care about’ bullshit. You’ve proven I shouldn’t believe a word that comes out of your stupid mouth.” 

His eyes fall, and you watch him bite his bottom lip as he rethinks what he should say. When his eyes meet yours again, you think you’re about to cry. “It’s not how you think it is,” he proclaims, and his lame excuse makes you scoff. “Yeah, because licking someone’s neck can be portrayed in so many ways,” you roll your eyes at him. “Let go of me. I’m done with this, Han.” 

His grip only tightens. “It was a stupid dare Mingyu came up with. It didn’t mean anything. If you had been there, I would have licked your entire body.” You frown at his comment. “No, thanks. I’m done with this,” you repeat your words.

“You can’t–” he tries to talk you out of it, but you interrupt him before he gets the chance. “I can do whatever the fuck I want as far as I’m aware. And I’m sure you can find a different fuck buddy if you really can’t stay without sex for a while.” 

“You know damn well we haven’t been about sex for some time now,” his voice is strong, sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls you closer to him, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “I don’t even know her name, baby. I don’t care about her or any other girl there. This whole time, I kept thinking about what you were doing and if you were okay.” 

“I don’t believe you,” your voice sounds weak compared to his. You have to gulp down as you watch him, doubting your ability to resist him when he is this close to you. 

It’s been half a year since you agreed on this little friends-with-benefits thing with him, and it was great until you started to develop feelings for him. You thought you could push them aside and live your life freely, but your plan fell apart when he started giving you hope, showing up in your apartment after work just to watch a movie with you, taking you out to dinners without any reason, and then, just a week ago, the L bomb that slipped past his lips on accident. 

You thought that was finally your chance at happiness, but he just had to ruin it again tonight. 

“I don’t want to go into the New Year with my heart on you when I don’t know what you’ll do when I turn around and don’t watch you for a bit.” 

“That was a one-time mistake,” he argues, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I don’t want to go into the New Year without you.” 

You hate him. You hate how he makes you feel, but most importantly, you hate how easily you forgive him. 

“Let me make it up to you, prove that you’re the only woman I think about, the only one I am in love with.” Jeonghan had promised himself he wouldn’t ever tell you again unless he knew you felt the same way about him after the first time it managed to escape his lips, but now that he was so close to losing you, he didn’t care about his stupid resolution. He needed you to know he meant those words. 

“I hate you,” you mumble, hitting him in the chest weakly. “I know, I’m the worst,” he nods, his thumb stroking your cheek. “But I want to be the best for you.” Whatever fight your brain and heart were fighting seconds ago stops, and you don’t care anymore what the right decision is. You need him, and you don’t care if he hurts you anymore. 

Your lips crash with his, and he doesn’t hesitate to pull you closer. He finally lets go of your wrist and moves his hand on your waist, giving it a tight squeeze as he keeps you close to himself. “You better mean everything you said,” you warn him, pushing him to the wall behind him before you connect your lips again. He smirks, tugging your hair behind your ear so it won’t get in the way. “Swear on my family,” he mumbles, the taste of your lipstick driving him crazy. “Should we go home?” He offers, a groan escaping his lips when your hips crash with his. “Or should I take you right here?” His hand slides between your bodies, moving down to reach the bottom of your skirt. The grin on his face as his fingers find your clothed clit is insufferable. 

“I’m going to bite your dick off,” you hiss, squirming away from him. You pull away when he doesn’t stop touching you, your finger in the middle of his chest as you glare at him. “What? You were just getting wet,” he smirks as he sees the blush creep up your face. “I swear I will kill you one day,” you promise him, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him off the wall. He stumbles for a second but finds his balance again and sends you a teasing wink before he walks towards the parking lot, already calling an Uber. 

♡⸝⸝ 

The kisses you share when you walk into his apartment are heated, and the taste of everything you’ve drank tonight mixes with the liquor he had. His mouth moves to kiss your collarbone as he kicks the door of his room open, not bothered enough to close it again as he takes you to his bed, the same bed you’ve been a regular in for months now. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, moving down to kiss your right breast through your top. Your breath shakes as your fingers tug at his hair, making him groan. He rolls your top up, and you help him remove it while he cups your boobs in both of his hands, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. “Only for you,” you moan out, rubbing your thighs together. “Only for me,” he repeats after you, smirking as he licks your right nipple while his left hand takes care of the other one. 

“No one else.” — “No one else,” you agree, nodding as he sucks on your sensitive nipple. “God, Jeonghan,” you moan as his lips move lower, tracing wet kisses on your stomach until he reaches your skirt, slowly pulling it down as he kisses the hem of your panties. It’s embarrassing how wet you are just from that. He hums in response, hooking his fingers in your panties and pulling them down with ease. “What does my girl need?” He asks, his tongue sliding between your folds. The feeling of his tongue on your clit makes your head spin, and your fingers find his hair again. He sucks on your clit, his fingers teasing your needy entrance. “Jeong–” your voice breaks as he thrusts two of his fingers into you, and you pull on his hair. 

It wasn’t the first time he had gone down on you like this, but each time, it caught you off guard just like the first time. The praises that leave his lips send a shiver down your spine as he continues making out with your cunt, and you finally know what he meant by making it up to you. He doesn’t budge as you pull on his hair, saying it’s too much for you. He knows not to listen to you at moments like these. 

It’s not much longer that your thighs shake around his head, and you finish on his tongue. He smirks against your pussy, his nose pressed against your clit, letting you ride out your orgasm. 

“Please, Hannie, please,” after your begs, it doesn’t take much longer for him to pull down his pants, his shirt still on. You tug on the material covering his upper body, and he smirks. “My baby wants to see more of me?” He teases, still rubbing slow circles on your clit. You nod, your eyes falling to his soaked fingers. God. 

“Oh?” He taunts, dragging his fingers down to your clenching hole. “I haven’t even started yet,” he whispers, and had it been a different situation, you’d remind him not to get too egoist. But this time, you can’t say anything to him. It’s true. His cock wasn’t even close to touching you, and you had already finished once. It was only a matter of time before he’d take you to your second orgasm. 

“Please,” you cry, and as he takes down his shirt, he positions his tip at your cunt. “Is this what you want?” You nod rapidly, reaching for his hand. He only pushes the tip in as he intertwines his fingers with yours, cooing sweet nothings into your ear. 

He moans as you clench around him, his thrusts slowly becoming steady. Your vision blurs and all you can pay attention to are his moans that fill your ears. You could swear he had the prettiest moans you’ve ever heard. 

The room is loud, your whines mixing with his as they fill up the otherwise quiet place. Each one of his thrusts hits the right spot, and you know that at this point, you’ll cum before he can even get close to his orgasm. “Don’t– ngh,” you grasp his hand when you see him moving it down to your already overstimulated bud of nerves again, stopping him. “‘S too much,” you whine, but it only causes him to smirk. “It’s alright,” he coos, pinning your hands behind your head with his left hand, followed by one harsh thrust of his hips, while his right-hand rubs circles on your clit despite your protests. “You can cum as many—fuck—times you want,” he says, his breathing growing heavy as his eyes watch his cock disappear in your hole. 

His thrusts get harsher after that, and you’re confident you’ll have bruises on your ass in the morning from how his hips slam against you. He leans down to kiss you, swallowing your moans in his mouth as your lips connect. “‘M close,” you cry, and he nods. “Just a bit. I’m almost, god, there, too.” 

There are marks all over your neck and shoulders when he pulls out of you, stroking his cock a few more times before he finishes on your stomach. There is a sense of emptiness you feel as his cock leaves you, but you stop thinking about it soon after when he kisses you again. This time, it’s less needy but full of love instead. 

As he falls down next to you, you use up the moment and change your position, sitting on his stomach while he looks up at you. You smirk, leaning down to his collarbone and leaving a hickey there, too. He can’t be the only one marking what’s his.

✧˖°. izzy's tags @beomiracles @adel222 @liaatiny @bamgeutsz @cherrylovescheol ✧˖°. want to get notified? join taglist here!

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mha reactions to their kid being disrespectful towards their mom ?

mom! reader, girl dads! tdbkdk, inspired by the newest scenes i had to witness of my little cousin this holiday season. i can't use my childhood because i met 'mr belt' and i never misbehaved since.

IZUKU MIDORIYA as . . . the nice cop.

— izuku would probably be gentle with his parenting, and that's why he's in this situation in the first place. he's the type of parent that tries to reason with his child with a very nice voice, which ends up accidentally raising a manipulative child. even so, he'll never raise his voice towards his child, but he'll definitely get more serious. especially if she's being disrespectful towards his wife.

it was a tranquil sunday afternoon, where you and your family had visited izuku's mother for lunch. excited for the community pool, your daughter went dressed in her green sundress and her little mermaid swimsuit underneath. her smile dropped when she heard the news.

"i'm sorry, sweetie, the pool is closed!" you frowned, to which your daughter started crying. trying to comfort her, you guided her towards the bathroom to change clothes. what you weren't expecting though, was...

"don't touch me! leave me alone, you witch!"

izuku had never sprinted towards you faster in his life, eyes widened in disbelief. he lowered down to his daughter's height, as he called her attention. "hey kiddo, you didn't really mean that, right?"

your daughter nodded, "mommy won't let me go to the pool" she cried. "she's mean and a witch!"

izuku sighed as he patted his daughter's head, ruffling her hair. "the pool is closed, baby. we can come back tomorrow when it opens, okay? but never call mommy that again, yeah? you hurt her and my feelings that way. now, apologize to your mom."

"'m sorry mommy."

"and you'll never go to the pool again" you whispered to your husband, to which he nodded. "and then, maybe, we won't take you to the pool because you weren't nice to mommy. you have to love your mommy and treat her well" he added.

your daughter cried some more because she would never go to the pool again.

KATSUKI BAKUGO as . . . the restrained cop.

— katsuki would try to be gentle, but with his tone of voice, it would come out horribly. and if. his daughter is an exact copy of him? he would be pissed off and would probably ask you to reason with her first, because fighting fire with fire is horrible. when he finds out your daughter is disrespectful to you, though, he has to control himself not to scream at his child.

trying to teach your daughter to eat different foods was hard. and during the holidays? it was a nightmare.

when you sat beside her trying to spoon-feed her a small piece of turkey, she gagged. "gross! i'm not hungry. mommy made gross food! ew, ew, ew!"

katsuki's head quickly turned to the table where you sat, trying to reason with your daughter. as you fed her the food, she chewed it, and then opened her mouth. she spit. the food. on her hand.

katsuki had a face that read 'i know damn well she didn't, as he stepped closer. when you asked your daughter to please eat and to not waste any food, she snapped.

"shut up mommy!"

"who do ya think yer talking to, kid? huh? that's your mom" katsuki snaps, which earned a sob from his daughter. he realized he should've used a softer tone, but tough love, right? he was raised like that and he turned out fine.

"kid, do you know that mommy's hurt by the way you talked to her? see how ya started cryin' when i yelled? momma feels that way when ya don't treat her well. apologize."

your kid had never apologized quicker.

muttering a soft 'thank you', you turned to your daughter and helped her clean up her hand. katsuki, in the meantime, started wondering.

was the turkey he baked really that gross?

SHOTO TODOROKI as . . . the traumatized cop?

— shoto would try to do everything he can to not resemble his father. and if he ended up with a troubled kid, he would be very patient. if his daughter is disrespectful to his wife, he'd definitely be upset. he would also try to reason with her. he would pull the 'you wanna know how i got this scar' if things get really serious.

when you and your daughter were arguing upstairs, as you tried to dress her up for another todoroki family reunion. when she didn't want to get dressed, she cried.

"i'm going to tell daddy you hit me."

"sweetheart, please listen to me—"

bang.

your daughter threw herself onto the desk to her right, and started weeping more tears as she wailed, "daddy, mommy hit me!"

shoto ran up the stairs to find your weeping daughter and you with the most distressed look on your face. "did you?" he asked, to which you scoffed. "do you really think—"

"—i know you'd never" shoto cut you off, "but i had to ask. she needs to learn about trust, and not to lie."

your husband turned to her daughter, picking her up and cradling her on his arms. "where does it hurt?" he asked, as your daughter pointed at her forehead. his lips placed quick, caring kisses on your daughter's forehead as his expression turned more serious. "i want you to tell me the truth, (daughter's name). did mommy really hit you?"

your daughter looked around, her gaze finally fixating on the ground as she muttered a quiet 'no'.

"then why did you say that?"

she cried some more as she muttered nonsense into your husband's shoulders. shoto's hand cupped her cheek so she would look at him. "do you know how i got this scar?", he asked, to which she shook her head.

"my family was not very nice, and i ended up hurt" he stated, "and mommy is doing everything she can for you to feel loved. is this how we should be with mommy?"

your daughter shook her head.

"your mommy is very caring and nice with you, and we should be the same way with her. now, what do we say to her?"

"...sorry mommy."

"that's much better, my love. let's not do this again."

[bloodyjuls-blog]

NOTHING MUCH(Russo's sister X Leah Williamson)

Kay Russo had always been Alessia’s shadow. Since they were little girls, Alessia was the star of the family: the one who shined on the football field, the one who made her parents proud, the one who had a solid group of friends who seemed to want to crush anyone who didn’t fit into their perfect world. Kay, on the other hand, was “the other.” It wasn’t that she wasn’t talented; it just never seemed like enough.

As they grew up, the differences became more pronounced. Alessia had a clear path: Manchester United, the English national team, and eventually Arsenal. On the other hand, Kay was stuck in mediocre jobs and awful comments from her parents and sister. “Why can’t you be more like Alessia?” was a phrase she heard all too often.

The relationship between Kay and Alessia was tense, but the breaking point came one night, when Alessia, along with a group of her friends, began to make fun of Kay in front of everyone at a family gathering.

“And you, Kay?” “What have you been up to lately?” Alessia said with a venomous smile. “Did you find a job or are you still living off of mom and dad’s money?”

Laughter echoed around the room, and though Kay tried to keep her composure, she felt her stomach churn with shame. That night, locked in her room, Kay collapsed on her bed with her eyes filled with tears. She knew she had to change something in her life and escape that toxic dynamic. It was then that while surfing the internet, she saw an ad for the Royal Navy: “Find a purpose. Discover your potential. Join the Royal Navy.”

Kay didn’t think twice. She knew that enlisting was her ticket out, but she also knew that her family would never understand. So she made a drastic decision: she didn’t tell them anything. The following week, the recruitment process began.

A few weeks later, Kay received confirmation: she had been accepted. The date to report was marked on her calendar, and as it approached, she felt a mix of nerves and relief. One night before she left, she decided she should at least tell her family something, but not everything.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, I’ll be gone for a while,” she said over dinner.

Her mother looked up from her plate with disdain.

“On ​​vacation? With what money?” she asked sarcastically.

Kay took a deep breath, trying not to lose her cool. “Never mind, I just wanted to let them know.”

Alessia laughed softly and murmured, “Always so mysterious.”

Kay gritted her teeth, finishing her meal in silence. That would be the last dinner she would share with them for a long time.

The day Kay left, she left home early, carrying a backpack and leaving behind a short note on the kitchen table: “I’m gone. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Take care of yourselves.”

The months that followed were a whirlwind. Basic training in the Royal Navy was brutal, but Kay held on to it with determination. Every physical exercise, every lesson, every grueling hour felt like a step toward freedom. Here she wasn't "Alessia's sister," she didn't have to endure her family's hurtful comments. Here she was simply Kay, someone trying hard to find her place.

After completing her training, Kay was given her first leave. She decided to return home, even though she knew it would be difficult.

When she arrived, the reception was cold. Alessia wasn’t even there; she was away on a trip with her team. Her parents barely showed any interest in hearing about her experience in the Navy.

“So what’s next?” her father asked in an indifferent tone. “Are you going to be here long?”

Kay felt the knot in her chest grow bigger. That night, as Alessia posted pictures on Instagram with her teammates, Kay sat alone in the backyard, wondering if she would ever truly belong in this family.

It was during one of those visits home that Kay met Leah Williamson. Alessia had invited some of her teammates over for dinner, and though Kay tried to stay out of the way, she couldn’t help but run into them. Leah was kind, something Kay hadn’t expected. They had a brief but meaningful conversation, and in that moment, Kay felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time: connection.

Kay returned to her base after that brief visit home. The experience only reinforced what she already knew: her family would not change. But one thing remained in her mind: Leah Williamson. They had exchanged a few words over dinner, but there was something about her warmth, the way she seemed to see Kay as a person, and not as a shadow of Alessia. Leah didn’t know her, she was unprejudiced, and that made her different.

The day Kay had her first chance to visit London while on leave, she remembered that Leah was playing for Arsenal. She decided to take a chance and attend a match. It was strange to be surrounded by thousands of fans excited about something that, until recently, had been a source of insecurity for her: football and the shadow of her sister. Alessia was not on the team yet, which made the experience a little more bearable.

After the match, Leah, who had played spectacularly, was surrounded by fans and media. Kay watched her from a distance, trying to convince herself that she would simply leave without saying anything. But Leah saw her.

“Kay!” she called from the field, waving excitedly.

Kay froze for a moment before shyly approaching.

“What are you doing here babe?” Leah asked, clearly surprised but pleased.

Kay shrugged, trying not to look nervous. “I was in town and thought I’d come to watch the game.”

Leah smiled, and something in her expression made Kay feel less invisible. “I’m glad you came. Do you have plans now?”

Before she could stop herself, Kay shook her head. That night, they ended up having dinner together at a small, low-key restaurant near the stadium. It was the start of something unexpected.

As the months passed, Kay’s visits to London became more frequent. She always found an excuse to see her, and Leah seemed to enjoy her company as much as she enjoyed Leah’s. They talked about everything: life in the Navy, the challenges of being a professional soccer player, and, occasionally, Kay’s family struggles.

One night, as they walked through the quiet streets of London after dinner, Leah stopped and looked at her seriously.

“Kay, why don’t you ever talk about Alessia much? I know you are sisters, but you almost seem to avoid mentioning her.”

Kay looked at the ground, feeling her chest tighten. Talking about Alessia was like opening a wound that never healed.

“It’s complicated, Leah. I’ve always been… different to them. Alessia’s the star, the one who shines. I… I just exist on the periphery.”

Leah took her hand, an unexpected but comforting gesture. “That’s not fair, Kay. You shouldn’t feel that way.”

Kay looked up, surprised by Leah’s sincerity. It was at that moment that she knew this connection was something special.

As her relationship with Leah grew stronger, Kay knew there would be trouble sooner or later. Leah was a public figure, and although she hadn’t revealed details of her personal life to the world, speculation was constant. The Arsenal team was full of rumors about who Leah’s partner could be, but no one suspected Kay. Alessia, still playing in Manchester, had no idea that her younger sister was getting so close to one of her friends.

Kay also knew that her family wouldn’t approve of the relationship, not only because of who Leah was, but because the idea that she could have anything valuable in her life seemed inconceivable to them.

Everything changed when Kay received the news of a new deployment abroad. It was a high-risk mission, and although she was used to challenges, this time was different. Now she had something to lose. When she told Leah, the reaction was immediate.

“How long will you be gone honey?” Leah asked, trying to remain calm.

“I don’t know but it could be months.” Leah nodded and cuddled her, but Kay could see the worry in her eyes. That night, as they said goodbye, Leah hugged her tighter than usual.

“Just promise me you’ll come back, okay?”

Kay didn’t answer, because she knew that was a promise she couldn’t guarantee.

During deployment, Kay was severely wounded in an ambush. The bullet that hit her back damaged her spine, leaving her paralyzed from the waist down. Doctors told her she would never walk again. The physical pain was immense, but the emotional blow was even worse.

When she was finally able to reach Leah from the military hospital, the conversation was brief but full of emotion.

“I’m alive,” was the first thing Kay said, her voice shaking.

Leah, on the other end of the line, let out a sigh of relief, but she couldn’t hide her worry. “What happened, Kay? Tell me the truth.”

Kay closed her eyes, feeling the tears begin to flow. “I’m in a wheelchair, Leah.” I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.

The silence on the other end of the line was painful, but when Leah finally spoke, her voice was firm. “I’m going to be with you, Kay. No matter what.”

Kay spent weeks in the military hospital, facing the reality of her condition. Doctors stabilized her, but the words she most feared hearing finally came: she would never walk again. She wasn’t ready to face it. Her life as she knew it had changed forever. The military, her only refuge, was also out of reach.

London became her next destination. The medical staff recommended that she be transferred to a civilian hospital where she could receive specialized treatment and subsequently begin the rehabilitation process. When Kay thought about where she could stay afterward, only one person came to mind: Leah.

Leah waited for Kay at Heathrow Airport, visibly worried. Even though she had received constant updates about her condition, seeing her in person would be an emotional challenge. When Kay appeared in the wheelchair, pushed by a hospital attendant, Leah felt her heart tighten in her chest.

Kay wore a stoic expression as if she was using all her strength to keep her emotions in check. Leah could see past that, though. Kay’s eyes, once full of life, now reflected exhaustion and pain.

“Hi my love" Kay said quietly as she came to her side.

Leah leaned in to hug her, ignoring the fact that they were in the middle of a crowded airport. It was a long hug, one they both needed.

“Welcome home baby,” Leah said softly leaning against her and kiss her deeply.

Kay wanted to correct her, reminding her that London wasn’t her home, but she couldn’t find the words. Maybe, after all, Leah was the closest thing she had to a home.

Leah’s London flat was cozy but small, and the modifications needed to accommodate the wheelchair made the space feel even more cramped. Leah had worked tirelessly to get everything ready, installing ramps and rearranging furniture. Kay felt grateful, but also deeply uncomfortable.

“You didn’t have to do all this, Le” Kay said as she scanned the space with difficulty.

Leah, who was making a cup of tea, turned to her with a calm smile. “Of course I did. I wasn’t going to let you go through this alone.”

Kay nodded, but inside, guilt and frustration were growing. She wasn’t used to depending on anyone, let alone someone as important to her as Leah.

The first few weeks were a mix of intense emotions. Kay tried to keep a routine, attending physical therapy sessions and learning to adjust to her new life. However, every little failure—not being able to reach something, needing help with simple tasks—felt like a monumental defeat.

One night, while Leah was cooking, Kay decided it was time to talk about what had happened at the military hospital. It was a weight she had carried alone for far too long.

“Leah, can you sit down for a moment?”

Leah stopped what she was doing and sat across from Kay in the living room. The concern on her face was evident.

“What’s wrong, Kay?”

Kay took a deep breath, her hands shaking slightly. “There’s something I need to tell you about what they did to me in the Navy before all the injuries happened.”

Leah nodded, her expression becoming more serious. “I’m listening.”

Kay began to speak, her voice shaky at first, but gaining strength as she went on. She told him about the treatments she’d endured: the electroshocks they justified as “experimental therapy,” the times they’d left her alone for hours without help, and the “rehab” sessions that often included pushing her physically to the limit.

“There were days I thought… I wasn’t going to get out of there. They yelled at me that I needed to be strong, that if I couldn’t take it, I didn’t deserve to be in the military.”

Leah clenched her fists as she listened, her face reflecting a mix of anger and sadness.

“How could they do that to you?” she finally asked, her voice cracking.

“It’s the price of being weak in their world, Leah. They couldn’t stand someone like me not being “useful” anymore.”

Leah leaned forward, taking Kay’s hands in hers. “Listen to me, Kay. What they did was inhumane, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. You are one of the strongest people I know.”

The tears Kay had been holding back finally began to fall. Leah didn’t say anything else, she held her, allowing her to release all the pain she had built up over the months.

Alessia’s arrival at Arsenal added a new layer of tension to Kay’s life. Although both had avoided any confrontation, Alessia’s passive-aggressive comments were quick to appear.

One afternoon, while Leah and Kay were at home, Alessia arrived unannounced. Leah had forgotten to lock her door, and Alessia walked in like she owned the place.

“So this is where you’re hiding, Kay?” Alessia said, with a sarcastic smile as she looked around the apartment.

Leah, who was in the kitchen, quickly came out upon hearing Alessia’s tone. “What are you doing here, Alessia?”

“I just wanted to see how my long-lost sister lived. It seems you’ve been busy… or should I say ‘well-kept’?”

Kay, who was in the living room, turned to face Alessia. “What do you want, Alessia?”

“I want to understand how you went from being a ghost to… this.” She pointed at Leah with a nod.

Leah, clearly upset, stepped in. “Alessia, if you come here to cause trouble, you can leave.”

The exchange escalated, and Kay felt old wounds reopening. Alessia had always known how to touch her weak spots, and Leah was caught in the middle. Eventually, Leah had to ask Alessia to leave, leaving Kay emotionally drained.

Despite the conflicts, the relationship between Kay and Leah continued to grow stronger. The emotional connection they shared was evident, and small displays of affection—a hand on the shoulder, an unexpected hug—began to evolve into something more.

One night, while watching a movie together, Leah leaned slightly toward Kay, resting her head on her shoulder. Kay, surprised at first, allowed the gesture and smiled.

It was a small moment of intimacy, but to Kay, it meant more than Leah could ever imagine.

Winter had come to the city, and with it, the streets of London were filled with Christmas lights and decorations. Kay, however, barely noticed the festivities. Her days were divided between physical therapy, medical adjustments, and increasingly intimate moments with Leah. However, the conflict with Alessia and the memories of the abuse at the military compound weighed on her like a constant shadow.

One morning, as Kay tried to adjust to the new exercise routine her physical therapist had recommended, Leah received an unexpected text from Alessia. She wanted to “talk.”

“Is it a good idea to give her space after what happened here?” Kay asked from her spot in the living room, as Leah checked the message.

Leah sighed, leaving her phone on the table. “I think it’s not just you, Kay. Alessia… she has issues to work out with herself.”

Kay raised an eyebrow. “Don’t justify what she does. She’s always found ways to make me feel like I’m worthless.” Leah walked over and knelt in front of Kay, placing her hands over hers. “No one has the right to make you feel that way. Not even Alessia.”

Kay wanted to believe her, but the years of emotional abuse she had endured were not easy to forget.

That afternoon, Leah went to Arsenal Stadium to meet Alessia after training. Alessia, who had been in a bad mood all day, was quick to spill the beans.

“What the hell are you doing with Kay?” Alessia asked bluntly as Leah closed the door to the meeting room.

Leah, trying to remain calm, replied, “I’m looking out for her. Something no one else is doing.”

“Looking out?” Alessia let out a sarcastic laugh. “Since when do you need to play savior?”

Leah frowned. “This isn’t a game, Alessia.” Kay has been through things that neither you nor I can imagine, and instead of supporting her, you--

“Don’t lecture me!” Alessia interrupted, slamming her hands on the table. “Kay has always been a burden. Every time I tried to stand out, she was there, ruining everything.”

Leah felt her patience wearing thin. “You know what ruins everything, Alessia? Your inability to see her as anything more than a reflection of your insecurities.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Alessia hadn’t expected such a direct response, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say.

“This isn’t over, Leah,” she finally said, before leaving the room.

That night, Leah returned to the apartment emotionally drained. Kay noticed her expression and decided it was time to share something she had been holding back.

“What happened?” Kay asked as Leah plopped down on the couch next to her.

“Your sister… doesn’t understand anything,” Leah replied, massaging her temples.

Kay sighed and looked out the window. “It’s because she’s never seen me as her sister, Leah. I was always ‘the other Russo.’ The one with no talent. The one who didn’t fit in.”

Leah turned to her, surprised by the tone of vulnerability in her voice.

“You want to know why I joined the Royal Navy?” Kay asked, her voice shaking slightly.

Leah nodded, knowing Kay needed to vent.

“I saw an ad online while I was looking for a job. It seemed like a way to escape everything… from Alessia, from my family, from myself. I wanted to prove that I could do something for myself, something that no one could take away from me.”

Kay paused, her hands shaking as she recalled those days.

“But even then… it was never enough. And then… then came the hospital.”

Leah took her hand, giving it a gentle but firm squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

Kay shook her head. “I need to. Because if I don’t, those things are going to keep haunting me.”

Then, Kay began to speak, detailing the horrors she had endured. She described the time when she had arrived at the hospital very badly injured thinking that what had happened was her fault, or that it was all karma for being fragile and not facing things, where she would rather a thousand times have her die than have a partner who had a family that loved him.

“There was a doctor… I will never forget her face.” She told me I was a failure, that someone in a wheelchair was nothing anymore, that I was wasting valuable Navy resources that could be used on soldiers who would go back into combat, I… I can’t take it anymore.” Kay paused, taking a deep breath.

Leah hugged her tightly, unable to hold back her tears. “God, Kay… I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

“I don’t want you to see me as a victim, Leah.” Kay rested her forehead on Leah’s shoulder. “I just want to be someone who deserves… something.”

“You deserve everything, Kay. And I’m here to remind you of that every day.”

Despite everything, Kay began to find small moments of peace in her life with Leah. They began to spend more time together, sharing stories and laughing despite the circumstances.

One night, as Leah read a book on the couch, Kay leaned into her, resting her head on her shoulder. Leah smiled and set the book aside, putting an arm around Kay.

“You know?” —Leah said after a while. —I never thought I'd find someone I wanted to share so much with.

Kay looked up, surprised by the confession. —And me?

—You're that person, Kay. My person, my forever.

For the first time in a long time, Kay felt like maybe, just maybe, she had a place in the world where she truly belonged.

[baby--vera]

Blue Lock Boys as Dads

rin, sae, isagi, reo, kunigami, yukimiya

☆ミ

navigation • masterlist • bllk masterlist

itoshi rin

defo a girl and boy dad. older girl, younger boy vibes. when your pregnant he's definitely the type to get really fussy and not let you do anything incase you hurt yourself or the baby (he won't let you get a glass of water yourself). when your water broke he panicked and accidentally brought you to the wrong hospital...and you had to, as calmly as you could, tell him. and ge FREAKED out. when your baby was born it was all well, he took most night shifts to let you rest as much as you could, even though he's a professional athlete and should probably not be staying up, he would break the rules for you (and the baby too). fortunately, your second pregnancy experience was less chaotic as the first, rin still did the regular night shifts though <3

itoshi sae

only child dad vibes here. if its a girl, he would spoil her SOO much you'd have to scold him for it. but he still continues to treat your daughter like a princess behind your knowledge. on the other hand, if its a boy, he DEFINITELY bought the kid a football...he wouldn't force them to play but he would like his kid to at least try it. whether boy or girl, if they end up playing sports he would be at every match possible to support his child, even coaching them himself. your kid would be the star player of any sports team lol. but if your kid doesn't do sports, sae would also be very supportive of their hobbies, going as far as to buying the best equipment possible for it. however sae would be quite a strict dad from time to time, such as curfews and screen time. but in the end, he just wants what's best for his baby and to keep them safe <3

isagi yoichi

3 kids. he want 3 kids. obviously if you don't want that many he would respect your wishes but its just what his ideal family looked like in his imagination. he would be SOO helpful during and after your pregnancy. would give you massages, cook for you, carry you, anything you can name this guy has done for you. when it comes to taking care of the kids he definitely is big help too. he would carry them all the time and play with them all the time too. but when he's away for matches, you always facetime him before to say good luck and show him the kids in his jersey (he tears up it's too cute) but if isagi's match is nearby, you would bring your kids with you, of course wearing his jersey again, and cheer him on. he also will full on leg it to you all after a match to give you all big kisses (sometimes you might feature in his interviews too) <3

reo mikage

2 kids. either both girls or both boys. idk why i just thought of this when i thought of reo. when you tell reo you're pregnant he is over the moon, and he vows that he will not treat his kids like how his parents treated him, meaning he will let his kids have their own dreams insteaf of having to take over the mikage company. however, he will still spoil his children SO MUCH. you literally are face palming everytime he does. when your nearly about to give birth, he takes time off football (despite the disappointment from nagi lol) to take care of you and after you give birth. but when your children are a bit older he literally begs you to bring them to his matches and even gets you vip seats so they can see how cool their daddy is. if his matches are abroad, he will also pay for your plane tickets (in 1st class ofc) to come see him abroad and so he can see you and the kids. he will boast about it after the match <3

kunigami rensuke

kinda basing this off his own family but 2 girls and 1 boy. he's of course a REALLY good girl dad because he has younger sisters. he knows everything his 2 baby girls need and how they think (fr mind reader). as for his baby boy, he taught him football, of course. when we plays with his son he does play a little rough but not enough to hurt his kid. he would never forgive himself if he hurt his own kids, son or daughter. he love them all equally. (he's just a big teddy bear, even after wildcard he wouldn't treat his family any different) <3

yukimiya kenyu

2 kids. older boy and younger girl. yukimiya is the definition of GENTLEMAN. he is literally perfect. he researched everything when you told him you were first pregnant, so that he was prepared. everything went perfectly smoothly and soon, you two had your second baby. yukimiya also would take time off football to take care of you and the kids until they're manageable for you when he's away for matches. his son is a massive fan of his own father (who wouldn't be) and your baby girl is just there for the vibes lol. they have exact replicas of yukimiya's sports glasses and signed jerseys. but when the kids grow out of their baby jerseys, yukimiya gets a bit emotional, he cant bring himself to throw them away. so the frames the little baby jerseys in the living room if your house <3

here's a little thought/drabble for yall bc my maths series is taking a while...(im so sorry it will take a bit😔)

hope you like this and a smau should be out in a bit too ( 〃▽〃)

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Yeti's Cave

Yandere Male Yeti x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, pleasurable sex, oil like precum, size difference, rut, language barrier, kidnapping, general yandere behavior Word Count: 1.1k (Took a tiny break from comms to give you guys a winter fic that I hope you will all enjoy. Not my best work, but I hope it will feed you. I am sorry I have been writing so slow lately.)

It was winter in the town of Whelm. Not too unpleasant. Rather cozy, to be perfectly honest. Curled up by the fire. But Whelm was in the valley. Winter in the northern mountains was a frigid hell that few would venture into.

But you had to. A week before cold weather had hit there was a messenger from the village on the other side of the treacherous mountains. A sickness had taken hold, they had urgent need of medicines that could only be crafted from ingredients found around the valley. But it took time to gather and collect such supplies when they were needed at such scale.

You were the apprentice to the wizened old apothecary. A seemingly ancient man who had taught you as much as he could about collecting medicinal herbs, preparing them, and administering them. Seeing as he was so old, only you could make the trip and treat the villagers past the mountain.

You managed to make it there in time. But while you were on your way back home winter kissed the region.

Caught in a flurry of stinging wind and violent snow you barely managed to make it into the relative safety of an odd smelling cave. You wrapped your coat tightly around you. Was this how you were going to go out? Trapped in a cave with limited supplies? Slowly fading into the cold in a weird smelling cave?

As it happened, no.

There was a loud rumbling growl from deep within the cave. Your eyes widened, but you told yourself it was just the wind entering the deeper reaches of your makeshift shelter and making weird noises. But then you heard it again, louder this time.

From the depths emerged a fearsome beast the likes of which you had only heard rumors of. A hulking form, rippling muscles apparent even under thick white fur, a human-like face with sharp teeth and icy blue eyes, and two curled horns atop a shaggy mane of long white hair.

Despite the cold, that got your blood flowing and your heart flowing, you were out and in the snow immediately. A possible death in the cold mountains was better than a certain death by that man-like beast.

Ikkan, the yeti who you had run from, was worried. You were an odd thing that he had never encountered before. But you clearly had no proper fur except what was on your head, and your artificial covering didn’t seem all that effective. You’d freeze out there!

And thus he made it his mission to go and retrieve you.

And he succeeded. Expeditiously.

He dragged you back, kicking and screaming, into his cave. Deeper into it. He held you down on his fur-lined bed with the hope it would warm you up. He also cuddled close, though you still struggled despite his good intentions.

Ikkan decided he would take care of you and you could be his tiny mate. He was lonely, in rut, and you’d definitely die without him to care for you during this harsh time of year. Besides, some part of you clearly wanted him to be your husband. You had entered his den that very clearly smelled of him, after all.

In an effort to calm you down he tried to communicate with you, but each harsh guttural word sounded like a threat to your ears. You were convinced he had saved you to eat you later.

He moved on to offering you food and water but you wouldn’t give up your resistance.

Maybe you were having trouble understanding that he wasn’t intending to hurt you? That he just wanted to be the best he could be for his small mate. How could he get his intent through to you? The answer was clear! He just had to give you some high quality sex! Yeti cum would keep you cozy and you’d know exactly what he wanted to do with you.

You kicked and squirmed as the large furry thing held you down and removed your clothing. His huge cock had come out of its sheath, making his plan for you exceedingly clear. You tried to kick him away but he held you still and patiently applied precum to your hole and massaged it in to lubricate your tight entrance.

Since you were so much smaller than he was he knew you’d need some special attention before slipping into you.

He added his thick saliva to the mix and eventually got to the point where he could easily slip in several fingers into your twitching little hole, making you gasp when he wiggled them around inside of you.

Ikkan knew his little human was ready. He sat on his large bed of furs and pulled you close, planting you firmly on his cock while nestling your shivering body into his warm chest. It really felt amazing. Inside and out. He was surprisingly soft and his touch warmed you quickly.

At the same time, his cock continuously exuded warm oily precum that heated you up from the inside out. He fucked away your resolve in record time. It was clear to you now that he was in no way trying to injure you. Unless you counted having your senses fucked out of you. You wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled into his cozy chest. You even began bouncing on his big cock, desperately trying to get it deeper inside you despite your earlier protests.

The yeti smirked, he knew you’d love his dick.

Ikkan was overjoyed to give his human what they wanted. He quickened the pace and went a bit harder, holding your sides as he began really fucking into you. Blush crept across your face as the two of you came together. The pair of you shivered not from cold, but from pure pleasure.

He cuddled you as you leaned on him with his slowly softening cock still in you before eventually pulling out and laying you on his bed of furs. Strangely, your body seemed to have somehow absorbed the cum and it kept you well heated without the need for your clothing.

For the moment, your brain was overstimulated and you had not fully processed what had happened. But that didn’t matter much to Ikkan, he would take the opportunity to get some food and water in you and if he noticed you becoming bratty again he would just give you some more top tier yeti cock.

You didn’t know when spring would usher in better weather. And it didn’t really matter, because no matter what happened, you would never be leaving.