#They know and understand each other that much

[harmonyrae]

Itty Bitty Titty Love

Synopsis: You’ve always been insecure of your chest size. Even an ass man appreciates nice tits… What if you’re no longer attractive to them when they see you for the first time? The boys are VERY eager to put your worries to rest.

AN: As a member of the itty bitty titty committee myself and realizing I can embrace my free will as an author, I wrote this for my itty bitty girlies. Also, it’s just hot imaging the boys thumbing nipples like thumbsticks on a gamepad. Cover picture is Queen Zendaya btw :)

Content Warnings: Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, Sylus all basically try to suck your soul out through your tits, a shit ton of nipple play, they do be worshiping ya body, angst, body insecurities, medical references, mentions of plastic surgery, alcohol, explicit language, 18+ MDNI Word Count: 9.1k

“Your fingernails are going to fall off if you keep biting them like that.”

Zayne’s voice snapped you back to the present. He hadn’t even looked up from the folder in his hand. You drop your hand from your mouth and stuff both hands into the front pocket of your hoodie. You continue picking at your nails now that Zayne can’t scrutinize your bad habit.

“Stop picking at your nails.”

How does he always know? You remove them from your pocket and fold your hands in your lap. You squeeze your hands as tightly as you can to distract yourself. Zayne has been your doctor for some time, check-ups were not new, but your relationship is. You had officially become Zayne’s girlfriend a few weeks ago and while things were going well, you had both decided to take things slow when it came to anything physical. Making out and sleeping in the same bed while holding onto each other was as far as you’d gone.

“Go ahead and change into a gown, please.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a subtle gasp echoing in through the small office. You straighten up and clear your throat trying to cover up your embarrassment. Zayne looks up at you before placing the folder on his desk. He walks over and places his hands on either side of your thighs on the examination table. His thumbs lightly stroking your thighs to stop your jittery legs from shaking. 

“My love, you’ve been anxious all morning. What’s wrong?”

Your heart melts at his nickname for you, he’s always telling you how much he adores you. And he can always tell when you’re upset. He doesn’t back down until you talk to him and he can help you work through the problem. 

“It’s just… I didn’t think we would have to do a full exam. Usually you just listen to my heart and do a quick EKG.”

“Yes, but the last echocardiogram and MRI was a year ago. We need to check for any changes.”

A year ago, Zayne had been at a conference and you had done those exams with another doctor. You remember feeling awkward then, exposed and uncomfortable. But your heart condition had to be monitored thoroughly or you’d be let go from the Association so you dealt with it. But now, with Zayne back you were feeling a wave of anxiety that was… different. 

“Do I have to put on the gown?” 

Zayne cocked his head, scanning your face in an attempt to understand your worries.

“If your bra has any wiring it will disrupt the tests and damage the machine. It is also optimal for the electrocardiogram so we can place more electrodes and get a clearer reading. And the gel we use for the echocardiogram would ruin the fabric.”

He explained everything so effortlessly. Even if you had worn a wireless bra, which of course you didn’t because you needed all the help you could get, you would still have to remove it for the other tests. You felt your heart pound and your stomach drop as you thought about Zayne seeing you topless. And it wasn’t the “excited and sexy” kind of nervousness. 

You are not well-endowed, you just aren’t. You know there is nothing wrong with it, but when it comes to intimacy you always wonder if you’re too small and he won’t be satisfied. And with how Zayne always ends up kissing your collarbone and any sliver of exposed skin on your chest during your make out sessions, you were more anxious than you’ve ever been.

“Oh… okay.” Your voice barely above a whisper. 

Zayne tilts your chin up to look at him. His thumb traces your jaw.

“I promise to stay professional, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

You shake your head, the last thing you want him to think is you think he’d be unprofessional. 

“No, no… I’ll change, just… can I.. uhm…” 

Zayne catches on and straightens, slowly turning towards the door. 

“I’ll be back in 5 minutes, okay?”

You nod and watch him leave. You try to take a deep breath and your chest shakes. You finally stand and pull your hoodie over your head, folding it neatly before setting it on the chair next to the exam table. You turn to face the small mirror hung behind the door and reach behind to unclasp your bra. You tug the straps down and lift the padded cups away. As you fold your bra into as tiny a ball as possible, you stare at your bare chest. It’s not that your breasts were ugly, in fact, they were quite perky. Your rosy pink nipples hardening against the cool office air were… pretty? But no matter how many compliments you gave yourself, you still felt too small.

You sling the medical gown over your shoulders and tie the strings at the waist. After tucking your folded bra inside your hoodie, you sit back down on the exam table and wait for Zayne.

The door finally cracks open and you hear him call from outside the door.

“May I come in?”

You huff out a laugh and wrap your arms around yourself. 

“Yea, I’m ready.”

He enters with a small cart covered in a variety of machines. You recognize most of them. The wand of an ultrasound, the electrodes connected to wires neatly stacked by the monitor that would show the results. Zayne locks the wheels of the cart beside the table and motions for you to lie back. You hesitate and shift backwards slowly, finally settling back against the padded table, your hands still clenched around your waist. 

Zayne places a hand over yours and leans over to look down at you.

“It’ll be over before you know it, we’re not doing anything new.”

You give him a weak smile and watch him walk over to the small sink to wash his hands and put on gloves. He returns to your side and starts to undo the strings of the gown, your hands still somewhat in the way. As anxious as you are, you also notice how wet you’ve become. The thought of Zayne’s hands on your bare skin makes you clit throb. 

Just as he begins to pull the gown open you hear a muffled sob, you don’t even realize the sound came from your own mouth. Zayne immediately stops and moves to hover over your face, his gloved hands stroking your cheeks and wiping away tears - that you didn’t realize had started to fall. 

“This isn’t about the tests, is it? Please tell me what’s wrong. Please…”

His voice is gentle and you pinch your eyes closed, guilt washing over you. You should have talked to him about your insecurities sooner. You’re crying in his exam room, wasting his time with your emotions when he could be treating other patients. He takes hold of your hand and squeezes it gently. 

“For the moment, I’m not your doctor, I’m just Zayne. Tell me what’s going on, my love.”

You cover your face with your hand and take a deep breath knowing you have to get the words out quickly or you’ll crumble.

“I’ve always been self-conscious about my chest size. I barely have breasts and wear push up bras with padding to look normal but really I barely fill out an A cup. I know you like to kiss my chest and I feel like you’re going to be disappointed and I know this is a doctor's appointment and you’ll be professional but this is the first time you’re seeing my chest and I am embarrassed…” 

Your final words are a tad muffled as you struggle to get them out. You keep your eyes covered with your hand and let out a shaky breath. After a minute, Zayne pries your hand away and you open your eyes to look up at him. A gentle smile tugs at his lips and he holds onto both of your hands. He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I do love to kiss your chest. And I can’t wait to savor every inch of your skin. Your breasts are perfect because they’re a part of you.”

More tears stream down your face and your heart hammers inside your chest. You are undeniably wet and aching to be touched, but your first time with Zayne would not be in his exam room. Even if it does give you major Grey’s Anatomy vibes and there are plenty of scenes you’d love to recreate - Zayne the Derek to your Meredith. 

“Let me see you darling, please.”

His whisper sends chills down your spine and you move your hands way letting him open the gown. He settles his hands on your waist right below your ribcage. You keep your eyes locked on his face, your chest heaves and you feel your nipples tighten. Zayne drops his eyes and lets out a soft breathy moan. His eyes snap back to yours.

“Will you allow me to be ‘just Zayne’ for another moment?”

You nod slowly, your face and chest feeling hot under his gaze. You watch as he lowers his head and places a kiss to your collarbone. Your weeping cunt is pulsating with anticipation. His lips lower and he kisses the center of your chest between your breasts. You feel his hot breath fan across your chest making your shoulders tremble. His hand splays across your stomach, you realize he removed his gloves, his skin caressing yours leaves you gasping. 

Then you feel his wet lips capture your nipple and you groan, louder than you intended. You clasp your hand over your mouth, but Zayne doesn’t stop. His tongue flicks over your sensitive peak and you arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him. His hand glides from your stomach to your other breast, his thumb pressing onto your neglected nipple. He rolls his thumb in a circular motion, sending your nerves into a frenzy. 

He switches sides and sucks your nipple into his mouth. His hand switches as well, his nimble fingers rolling your swollen nipple between them. You feel the cold metal on the clasp of his badge brush against your skin bringing goosebumps to the surface in an instant.

“Zayne… mhm god…”

He moans against you and the vibrations against your chest make your head spin. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug. He kneads your breast, letting his hand press and rub.

“If you don’t - ahh - stop, I’m gonna… fuck Zayne…”

He finally releases your nipple with a wet pop. He lifts his head to meet your eyes and looks at you over his smudged glasses. His face flushed, a drop of sweat rolling down his temple.  

“Your breasts are beautiful and I can’t wait…”

He places a kiss on each of your nipples while rubbing his hands down your waist. You shiver and lean your head back on the table.

“...to continue this at home. But for now, I think you should get dressed and speak to reception about rescheduling this appointment.”

You lift your head quickly and stare at him with wide eyes.

“Wait… why?”

He rises and closes your gown. He offers his hand and you take it, helping you sit up.

“Because I don’t think I’ll get an accurate reading after… my examination.”

You giggle and lift your hands to his face, pulling him closer to you. He leans in and kisses you without hesitation. You’ll never forget this moment. Zayne desired your body as it was, itty bitty titties included.

You knew a second bowl of hot pot was a bad idea, but it was so delicious and the weather was so cold you didn’t care. You cuddle up next to Xavier as you tip the bowl back, slurping down the warm broth. Xavier chuckles as he lifts a napkin to your chin, catching a droplet before it stained your sweater. 

“Thanks.”

Your mouth is full of noodles and meat as you speak, only making Xavier laugh harder. He sets down his third bowl and wraps an arm around you. A gust of cold air whips your hair across your face. Xavier quickly tucks the strand behind your ear. Your cheeks, flushed from the cold wind and hot soup, now burn hotter under his gaze.

“Thank you for coming to find me tonight.”

You lean your head onto his shoulder. You feel him let out a deep breath. When Jenna told you he had gone missing after his meeting with her, you immediately started looking for him. You knew he was getting close to catching a write up, but didn’t expect it to happen so soon. When you found him in your favorite spot, your heart broke.

The place where Xavier asked you to officially be his girlfriend a little over two weeks ago. An old bench on top of a hill that overlooked the entirety of Linkon - or almost all of it. The city lights glow and the stars shimmer against the dark indigo sky. During the spring the hill is covered in flowers, the grass a vibrant green in the summer months, in autumn crisp colorful leaves and when winter comes children love to use the steep slope to sled. You’d watched a whole year pass on this bench, talking with Xavier about anything and everything. And when he finally asked you to be his, you didn’t hesitate, pulling him into a kiss you’ve craved since you met him.

But tonight, you sat with him until the moon had fully risen. He told you about the meeting with Jenna. She had written him up for being reckless on his last mission. He had used himself as bait for the Wanderer and gotten himself badly injured. She had given him countless warnings, but finally had to put something in writing. You held his hand as he sat in silence.

“I know she had to, I’m not upset.”

You nodded, but you knew he was frustrated and embarrassed. He had once led a whole crew, held a position of authority, and been the one to hand out punishments. And now, he was receiving them. You knew he could have been promoted multiple times, but he always turned it down. He enjoyed the daily grind of fighting Wanderers. And he loved being your partner. 

Eventually, you heard his stomach growl. You dragged him down the hill to your bike and went to your favorite hot pot restaurant. It was just before closing so the owner offered to serve you as long as you sat outside so they could start cleaning the sitting area. And even though it was cold, you both agreed quickly, your hunger winning out over your comfort. Now you were sitting back, cuddled up next to Xavier with a full belly and wanted nothing more than to curl up with him on the couch for the rest of the night.

The drive home was slow, the road to your apartment complex was getting work done so you had to wait an extra 20 minutes waiting for a path to clear. Xavier had rested his head against your back, his hands wrapped around your waist. During the wait, he had shifted his hands to your hips. When he started rubbing circles into your lower back with his thumbs, you felt your heart skip. He shifted his hands under your sweater to touch your skin, continuing his massage. When he started to move his hands around to your stomach you stiffened. 

“I’m sorry…”

His voice was soft, barely audible through his helmet. You shook your head.

“No no, just unexpected is all.” He resumed rubbing his fingers along your skin, leaving goosebumps behind. 

By the time you had parked at your apartment, his hands had trailed down to your waistband caressing your stomach and dipping down to rub your inner thighs. You parked your bike and leaned back against him, letting out a sigh that fogged up your visor. You heard him chuckle behind you.

“Do you want to come up to my place?”

His voice had an edge to it, something dark and dangerously sexy. You nodded and you both dismounted and removed your helmets before heading into the building. While you were excited, you also felt a twinge of anxiety. Would this just be your usual make-out or did he want something more? And if he wanted something more… would he be disappointed in your body?

You’ve toyed around with the idea of a breast enhancement for years. You were barely 18 when you asked your grandma about it. She had shut down the idea immediately, telling you to wait until you were 25 and reconsider. You just felt so disproportionate, opting to wear baggy clothes. While you enjoyed being comfortable, you always felt like you were hiding.

Now, Xavier was holding your waist closely while the elevator made its slow ascent to his floor. You leaned back against him, his hands trailing lower, pulling your hips back against his groin. You grinded against him instinctively, your mind going blank as you felt his erection press against your ass. He groaned softly in your ear and kissed your neck.

The elevator door opened and Xavier raced forward, pulling you along by your wrist. You giggle as you stumble forward following him to his apartment door. He presses his thumb down and swings the door open dragging you inside. 

Once you were inside, his hands went to work removing your layers. Your thick winter coat falling to the floor behind you, your scarf, your gloves. You tug at his hoodie, watching him pull it over his head to reveal his firm torso, his abs tensing as his breathing becomes more labored. He kept kissing your lips, your neck, your hands - any skin he could reach. 

You collapse onto the couch with him, he crawls over you, settling between your thighs. His hands knead the flesh of your hips, your pants slipping down slightly to grant him more access to your bare skin. His hands start to move upwards towards the hem of your sweater and just as he slips beneath the thick fabric you gasp into his mouth. Your hand flying down from where you had been gripping his shoulder to stop him.

He jumps at your sudden movement, his hand frozen in place. He looks at you, his eyes hazy with lust. 

“I’m sorry, I thought… we’ll stop?”

His voice was gentle, but you could tell he was barely holding back… his kisses had been so intense. You stare at him with wide eyes, your fingers digging into his neck. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. 

He takes hold of your chin, sitting up on his knee. His gaze sends a burst of heat straight to your core. You wanted him so damn badly, but your stomach kept doing backflips. You were so uncertain how he would react to your body, would he act like he loved it but secretly be disappointed?

“Are you okay? Did I go too far?”

The concern in his voice makes you nearly choke on a sob. You shake your head furiously.

“No, not at all! I… uhm…”

“What is it, baby?”

You often rely on sarcasm and brush off delicate topics because you’d rather crawl in a hole than feel weak. So you take a deep breath and brace yourself.

“I just feel like I should warn you, I’m part of a committee.”

Xavier stares at you, his brows furrow. He leans over, resting his side against the back of the couch. He keeps one hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“The itty bitty titty committee. I have no tits basically and I think you’ll be disappointed, but I’m going to get a boob job in a few years once I’ve saved up enough so maybe –”

Before you can continue, Xavier clasps a hand over your mouth. He leans in close, his knee pressing against your core making you shiver. 

“I can promise you, I won’t be disappointed.”

You give him a look, a “sure, okay” look. He scoffs and proceeds to lift the hem of your sweater slowly. He presses his mouth to your ear, giving your earlobe a nibble.

“I think I should take a look. Decide for myself, yea?”

He lifts his hand from your mouth and looks at you, he waits for you to give him the go ahead. With a subtle nod, he lifts you up, his hands diving under the back of your sweater. He swiftly unhooks your bra and pulls it out from under your sweater, tossing it onto his coffee table. He lets you fall back down onto the couch before he lifts the front of your sweater and sticks his head underneath. 

“Xavier!”

You gasp and barely have time to register what’s happening when you feel it, his tongue pressed flat against your nipple. Your hips buck and you grind against the growing bulge in his pants. He groans as he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He sucks and licks and rolls his tongue over the sensitive peak. His other hand reaches under to pinch your other nipple. 

You’re not sure why you expected him to be gentle. It felt like he was trying to suck your soul out of your breast and when he grazed his teeth against the tender flesh you nearly screamed. He nibbled and damn near made out with your breast. Without warning he switched sides, giving your other nipple the same treatment. 

“Oh oh oh ooohhh fuck…”

You were rolling your hips against him while arching your back trying to trap his mouth against your chest. He started squeezing your breasts, making your nipples strain and tighten even more. He opened his mouth even wider and licked your breast up and down, changing sides over and over and over. Your head was pressed so far into the cushion your neck was starting to ache. 

“Xav pleasepleaseplease oh god uh fuck ahh…”

He finally pulled his head out from under your sweater. He wasted no time lifting your sweater right off of your body, rolling it up and tucking it under your hips. He starts to unbutton your pants, but slows to lean forward and capture your nipple again with his mouth.

“Xavier god ahh..”

He mumbles against your breast, letting his lips drag across each peak as he switches sides as he speaks, never leaving your chest alone for a moment.

“Do you want more, baby girl?”

You tug at his hair forcing him to look up at you, his face flushed and sweat coating his chest.

“God yes… please Xav, please…”

He grins as he leans down and places gentle kisses to the center of your chest. He continues to work your pants off of you.

“Your tits are delicious honey, don’t you dare change a thing.”

You close your eyes and hold on for dear life as Xavier takes you for the first time. Your tiny titties were nothing to be ashamed of, in fact, he loved them. Now what to do with all that money you saved up for that surgery?

“If you don’t get your cute ass down here I’ll have to restart the movie and I’m already wet!”

Rafayel’s voice rings through the house. His tone was serious, but playful as ever. You knew he would restart the movie without complaints, he was just impatient. You stare at yourself in the mirror, pushing your breasts together, trying to retie your bikini top to make them appear larger, but nothing is working. 

You sigh and grab hold of the sink. You take a deep breath trying to calm your nerves. When Rafayel suggested a movie night you were all for it. He had painted a portrait of a famous director's dog so he sent Rafayel a copy of his upcoming film. Getting a sneak peak at what is sure to be this fall’s most popular movie was enticing. But then Rafayel suggested making it a movie night by the pool. He had an outdoor screen and the old fashioned lights strung above the infinity pool would surely make the night magical. But as soon as he suggested it, your heart sank. He was so excited, so you didn’t refuse, but all day you’d been tense thinking about what you’d wear.

Your bright blue bikini was your favorite, simple but comfortable. The triangle top on most girls would probably not cover much, but for you it was relatively modest. Usually, you didn’t care what people thought. If you went to the beach, you wore your bikini and had a great time, end of story. But when it came to Rafayel, you suddenly felt… exposed and… lacking. 

When Rafayel asked you to be his girlfriend you didn’t even let him finish the question before jumping into his arms screaming yes. You had actually knocked him over, both of you falling into the fountain outside the aquarium. You spent 5 minutes laughing and just sat there. He held onto you, like he was afraid you’d drift away the moment you stood up. 

It hadn’t even been a week and the amount of times you had almost thrown caution to the wind and dropped to your knees just to get a taste… Yeah, this is concerning. And you can tell Rafayel is feeling the same way, the way he holds onto you and kisses your neck. He wants to leave his mark and make sure everyone can see it. The various hickeys on your neck and shoulders were more than enough to send a clear message to your coworkers and friends.

You both had been dancing around the conversation of being intimate. You wanted it to be natural, but you also felt so self-conscious you weren’t sure you’d ever be ready. Maybe you can just tell him you love doggy and he won’t have to see your chest? But every time you tried to turn around in bed he would hold you tighter, wanting to face you and feel your cheek against his chest. 

You grabbed one of Rafayel’s t-shirts out of his dresser and tugged it on. You knotted the excess fabric at the hip, but kept the chest loose. You swept your hair into a messy bun on the top of your head and jogged down the stairs and towards the backyard. 

You could hear the ocean from his yard, the constant crashing of the waves against the shore had become your favorite sound - besides Rafayel’s singing. You could hear him humming to himself while he prepared mixed drinks at the bar next to the pool. His swim trunks were fitted, showing off his adorable ass and leaving nothing to the imagination. You could feel your core start to pulse. 

You cross your arms over your chest and approach the bar, silently slipping onto one of the bar stools. You clear your throat dramatically.

“Bartender! I’d like to order please!”

Rafayel jumped and clicked his tongue as he turned around.

“That’s not funny! I could have dropped a glass.”

His pout made your smile hurt your cheeks. He strolled over and placed a hurricane glass in front of you. The glass is lightly frosted from the blended drink. Bright blue slushy at the bottom with a yellow layer on top, a slice of pineapple on the rim next to a straw. 

“A Rafayel special. I just had leftover stuff from the party last weekend, so this is… uhh… unique. It’s basically a Blue Hawaiian on the bottom with a Pina Colada on top. All made with Rum, so we are not mixing liquors. Learned the hard way about that one…” 

You lean forward and take a sip, the sweet and sour combo makes your lips pucker and eyes squeeze shut. When you open your eyes, you see Rafayel staring at you, waiting for a verdict.

“It’s sour, I like it! What will you call it?”

He tilts his head, lifting his hand to his chin. You let your eyes drift while he is distracted, his broad shoulders tapering down to a tight waist. His abs defined and glistening with water, you guess he had already jumped in, maybe to test the temperature? You sigh and when you return your eyes to his face, you see he is looking at you with a smug grin.

“You’re staring, cutie.”

You scoff and take another sip of your drink, the sour aftertaste hits you like a brick. You shake your head and hop off the bar stool, taking your drink with you as you walk around the edge of the pool. You hear Rafayel following you. 

“So you have the movie ready?”

Rafayel hums and plants his hands on your hips. You lean back against him and breathe in his sweet scent, he always smelled like the ocean in the best way. It made your head spin. You feel him take your drink from your hand and set it on a nearby table. You close your eyes and sway with him. Unfortunately, you picked the wrong moment to trust him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and lunged into the pool dragging you with him. 

He’s lucky the water is warm or you’d have slapped him silly. You wiggle against his grasp, the water dragging you down. But just as quickly as you sank to the bottom, you are being pulled to the surface. You slap Rafayel’s arm as you surface, spinning around to splash him.

“Rafayel! You little shit!”

Rafayel laughs and splashes water back at you. He finally grabs your waist and pulls you back to him, his lips finding yours in an instant. You taste Rum on his lips, he always did prefer to drink it straight, only opting to drink “pretty drinks” when he was with you. The spicy undertones linger as he dips his tongue into your mouth. You moan as his tongue tangles with yours. He sucks your tongue into his mouth as his hands reach down to position your thighs around his waist. 

You’re nearly delirious when you finally pull back, his mouth moving to your neck while you catch your breath. 

“Did you even put the movie in? Or are you - fuck… are you —”

He cuts you off by kissing you once more. He pulls back just enough to mumble against your mouth.

“We can watch the movie, if you want. Or we can… make one ourselves?”

You let out a loud moan as he bites your lower lip. His hands move to palm your ass before tucking his fingers under your shirt, pulling up slowly. You pull back, tearing your mouth away, and reach for his hands. His eyes are full of surprise which slowly morphs into fear.

“What happened? What did I do?”

You shake your head, holding his face in your hands. 

“Nothing, you didn’t do anything, I’m sorry.”

You remove your legs from around his waist and he reluctantly lets go of your hips. You swim to the edge and hoist yourself up to sit with your legs in the water. You immediately tug on your shirt so it won’t cling to your body. Rafayel swims over and stands up, the water only to his stomach, he crosses his arms and rests his forearms on your knees. 

“What’s up cutie? What happened there?”

You try to laugh it off and pinch his cheek playfully.

“I told you, it’s nothing. I just… I was surprised, that’s all.”

His nose scrunches up and he tilts his head.

“It’s a surprise I want my hands all over you? We’ve been like this all week, what changed tonight? Something definitely changed.”

He’s right. All week if you weren’t kissing him, you were hugging him, if you weren’t hugging him you were holding his hand, if you weren’t holding his hand you were touching him in some way. And he was doing the exact same to you. The only difference was how exposed you were, how little clothing you had on. You were afraid, afraid he wouldn’t be as attracted to you once he saw how small your breasts were. Although you believe he is an ass man, his hands always found a way to hold onto you there, you still felt inadequate. 

He tapped your forehead and you looked up, blinking at him slowly.

“You’re thinking about it, but not saying it. Out with it, beautiful.”

He leans on your legs, his face inches from your own. He has the faintest hint of a pout and you hate how easily you fold for that little lip. Your fiddle with your fingers, uncertain what to do with your hands. Finally you sigh and meet his eye.

“I don’t have much going on… with my chest. It’s like I never went through puberty or something cause I just… I don’t have… I don’t want you to be disappointed.” 

You feel your cheeks burn and you lift your hands to cover your face. When you feel the pressure of Rafayel’s arms on your legs disappear your stomach drops. Then you feel his hands around your wrists, slowly pulling your hands away. You keep your eyes cast downwards and shift uncomfortably on the tile beneath you. 

“Cutie?”

His gentle voice warms you from the inside out and you look up at him. His beautiful smile is contagious and you feel the corners of your mouth tip upwards. You huff out a laugh, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“I have never, can never, will never be disappointed in you. Your body makes me…”

He pauses, his hands sliding up your thighs. You instinctively spread your legs for him to slide his waist between them. 

“It makes me… fuck… I feel like I’m on fire. I just want to hold you and touch you…”

His hands continue up your thighs to your hips, his fingers gently lifting the hem of his shirt away from you. He caresses the skin of your stomach, and you’re thankful you're already wet from the pool because your cunt is practically weeping for him.

“Take this off, I want to see you.”

You hesitate for a moment, but finally lift your hands to undo the knot at your waist. You tug at the shirt and pull it over your head, the fabric heavy with water. You drop the shirt to the ground, and round your shoulders, you don’t even realize you’re pushing your breasts together in an attempt to plump them up. When Rafayel grabs your shoulders you practically yelp and look up at him, confused. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t push them together.”

You close your eyes and roll your shoulders back, relaxing them and force yourself to stay still. 

“That’s my job.”

His voice was deeper, a rasp to it that caught you by surprise, just like his hands which cupped your breasts and squeezed them. You lurch forward and gasp. You’re uncertain if you are surprised or angry, but as he begins to flex his hand pushing his palms harder against your nipples you can’t remember. 

“Raf…”

He drops his hands and leans in, kissing your neck. 

“May I?” 

His hands travel up your back and he fiddles with the strings of your top. Your chest rises and falls faster as his eyes stay locked on yours. You nod and lift your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. You can feel him untie your top, both at your back and behind your neck. Your body is pressed against his, his hand snakes up your stomach to grab a hold of the fabric and rip it away from your body. The feeling of your tense nipples pressed against his bare chest sends another shockwave through your body. 

He shifts his mouth, kissing your jaw, your neck, your shoulders - his hot mouth leaving a trail of saliva behind as he tastes every inch of your skin. One of his hands lifts and squeezes your breast, lifting it to his mouth. His teeth roll your nipple between them, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you press your hips forward suddenly. With your core pressed against his stomach, he holds you up with a hand to your back, his other hand squeezes and tugs at your breasts lining it up perfectly with his mouth. 

You arch your back, your hands rake through his hair and down the back of his neck. He moans as your nails start to dig in. He bites down a little harder and you cry out.

“Fuck fuck ahh fuck Rafayel I… please…”

As he repositions and shifts to massage your neglected breast, he whispers against your skin.

“Fuck… you’re so sensitive. How does this feel?”

He flicks his tongue over your nipple over and over and over and you whimper as your eyes roll back. You’ve never realized how sensitive your nipples were. How just the slightest touch was sending you into a frenzy. Maybe it’s because you were so worried about your size that you just never let anyone touch you this way. But right now, you were convinced he could make you come without even touching your pussy. 

“Please don’t stop, fuuuuck, do that faster…”

He closes his mouth around you and sucks, his tongue never stopping. He no longer needed to hold your breast to his mouth as you were arching into him. He dropped his hand to your core, putting pressure on your clit through your bikini bottoms. You rolled your hips and spread your legs wider, desperate for him to do more. But instead of doing more, he pulled back, releasing your breast and putting less pressure on your throbbing clit. You whimper again, dropping your head to look at him. His smile was wider than ever.

“You are… so goddamn beautiful. Your moans nearly made me lose my mind…”

You feel your cheeks warm. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, letting your fingernails lightly scratch his skin. He shivers and tucks his hands under your ass, lifting you and pulling you into the pool with him. He lowers himself into the water with you, your legs wrapped around him once more. His arms holding you flush against him. 

“Your body is my sanctuary, never forget that, okay?”

You nod, resting your forehead against his. He didn’t see your body in parts, he saw it as a whole and he was obsessed with every single inch. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in you. And he did, until you were sure you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Why oh why did you agree to go with Sylus to this gala? You already stuck out like a sore thumb in his world, but this? This is torture. 

Sylus made light conversation with the seamstress as she took his measurements for a new custom suit. You couldn’t help but notice how she touched him, her hand lingering longer than it needed to. When she took his waist measurement he made a joke and she put a hand on his fucking chest. You had bit your lip so hard you could taste blood. And now she was leaning close to him asking irrelevant questions when she should have scurried back to her desk. The gala was in two days and she was standing there talking about wine? You shift uncomfortably on the plush sofa. You just wanted to go home.

The seamstress eyed you for a moment, her eyes trailing down your body. That look, you were becoming quite used to it. Being the woman on Sylus’s arm brought you a lot of unwanted attention and judgment. 

You straightened your leather jacket, checking the zippers to make sure they were fastened properly. It was unbearably hot in the boutique, but you didn’t want to take off your jacket. Sylus had surprised you after you got off work, picking you up for dinner and, apparently, shopping for the gala. If you had known, you would have worn your good bra and a shirt that highlighted your waist and distracted from your smaller than average chest.

You’d learned all the tricks of the trade by now. Spending money on a good push-up bra was better than stuffing a mediocre one and risking tissues falling out. You only ever cared when it came to dating, at work you wore a basic sports bra or bralette. Wanderers don’t care that you have tiny titties, they just have to die. 

Before Sylus had started getting serious about his intentions with you, you didn’t care how you looked for him either. But after a few months of joining him as “security” for his deals or him tagging along on a mission, you had fallen so hard for him it was damn near painful. You still remember the day, about 3 weeks ago, when you finally asked him to date officially. You kept waiting for him to ask you, but eventually you got impatient and asked him. His smile was radiant that day and honestly every day since. 

You had agreed to take things slow and try to figure out a plan for your relationship first before getting physical.. His position and your job made things… complicated. But you couldn’t deny the fact you found it pretty hot that you were hiding it. You were enjoying the time you had with him, where no one from your world was judging him. Sadly, you couldn’t escape everyone in his world judging you.

“Sweetie? Did you hear me?”

Sylus’s voice breaks through the white noise in your head and you blink at him. He chuckles and sits down next to you. He leans back and wraps his arm around your shoulder. 

“I said now it’s your turn.”

You tense, your eyes snapping to the seamstress. She looked at you expectantly, her hand on her hip and her lips set in a crooked smirk. You couldn’t help but let your eyes fall down her body. Her voluptuous hips and, god, she had a nice rack. She had that hourglass figure that you’d only ever dreamed of. You could see it now, she wraps the measuring tape around your chest and chuckles under her breath. She’d probably mutter something like “Is that all there is?” and you’d want to crawl in a hole.

“Oh, I don’t need to, I have something.”

Sylus raises a brow in surprise. He sits up and leans closer to you, resting his arm on his knees. You cross your arms over your chest and smile innocently. 

“This is a black tie event, kitten. Is it a floor length gown?”

You bite your lip. You definitely did not have a floor length gown. When would you ever need a floor length gown? Well right now, that’s when. You feel your cheeks warm as you glance between Sylus and the seamstress. 

“I’ll circle back in a few minutes and see if she’s ready then.”

That voice is so sickeningly sweet, too sweet, she’s laying it on thick. All “I’m happy to help” and “let me know what you need” and all that bullshit. You cringe and watch her leave. 

“If you don’t want your measurements taken, then you can just try on some dresses.”

You turn to face him and fight to keep your emotions hidden. You did not want to try on anything here. They’d have nothing for you and it would be too expensive.

“We really don’t have to do this, I can make what I have work. Don’t worry. How about we head back to the base? I bet Luke and Kieran are still trying to figure out that puzzle box we got them.”

Sylus leans in further, his nose brushing yours. He takes your chin in his hand.

“I can always tell when you’re lying, sweetie. Care to try that again?”

You scoff and try to pull your face out of his grasp, but he holds firm. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You feign ignorance once again and Sylus chuckles. It’s a deep chuckle, laced with something almost sinister. While you were trying to figure out what he's thinking he grabs onto your waist and lifts you, dragging you over to straddle his lap. You squeal and try to push back to stand up, but Sylus’s grip is too strong.

“Sylus! This isn’t appropriate!” 

Sylus pulls you forward. Your hands press against his chest as you fall onto him. He nuzzles his face into your neck, placing soft kisses behind your ear. You stop resisting for a moment and close your eyes, enjoying the affection. But when you open your eyes, you spot the busty seamstress glaring at you. Green really isn’t her color.

“Sylus, stop, this isn’t –”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

He runs his hands over your thighs and you hold your breath. When he squeezes your ass your composure crumbles. You slap his chest and push back, you’re sure your face is on fire with how it’s burning. 

“Little miss perfect body is staring and I just want to go home, okay? Just let me go!”

Sylus leans back to look you in the eye. He scans your face, trying to figure out where this outburst came from. 

“Little miss perfect body?” He repeats your words slowly. 

Your temper was reaching a boiling point. You were overheated in your jacket, the seamstress was staring daggers at you, Sylus’s hands on your body was making your head swim and you wanted nothing more than for him to touch you and hold you. You were overwhelmed and were seconds away from running out of the boutique without Sylus.

“Round ass, perfect tits, tiny waist. Can fit into any dress she wants and fill it out perfectly?”

Sylus stares at you with wide eyes. His mouth hangs open, but he says nothing.

“You know, the kind of woman people expect to be hanging off your arm? Not someone like me who can never find a dress that fits both my hips and chest because I was blessed with thick thighs but tiny tits and I can afford alterations for every dress I buy, so I just don’t bother.”

You couldn’t stop your rant. You tried to keep your voice steady and avoid yelling, but your heart was pounding and you felt that familiar sting in the back of your throat. You’d rather die than cry in the middle of a high end boutique.

“I don’t have anything to wear to the damn gala and I don’t want that bitchy seamstress to take my measurements and mock my fucking chest size. I want to leave, please Sylus.”

Sylus doesn’t hesitate to lift you off of his lap, helping you stand up. You straighten your jacket and grab your bag off the floor. You rush to the door and fling it open. Sylus thanks the seamstress and follows you out. You reach his bike and get in the driver seat. Sylus doesn’t say a thing and just hands you the keys once you finish securing your helmet. He climbs on the back and wraps his arms around you as you take off. 

You’re sure you broke several laws trying to get to the Onychinus base, but you didn’t care. You wanted to crawl into your bed and cry. As soon as you parked Sylus’s bike and yanked off your helmet, you stalked into the mansion heading straight for your room. But before you could turn to walk down the hallway leading to your room, you felt your feet lift off the ground. You were tossed over Sylus’s shoulder, his arm holding your legs.

“Sylus! Put me down! Now!”

Sylus remained silent as he carried you through the mansion, he went straight for his room and you felt your stomach twist. You pounded on his back and kept shouting for him to put you down. Which he didn’t do until you were in his room with the door closed. You stumble as you regain your balance. He holds your shoulders as he looks down at you. 

“You’re not leaving until you talk to me.”

You cross your arms and you know you’re pouting, but you just don’t care. He leans down to be at eye-level with you. 

“Sweetie, please. Do you really feel this way about your body?”

Tears well up and you can’t blink them away fast enough, they spill over and roll down your cheeks. You bite your lip and stare at your feet. Sylus moves his hands from your shoulders to your face, his palms warming your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away your tears. 

“My chest is too small, my hips are too big, I don’t fit… I don’t fit in here… with you. Everyone at these galas or auctions are stunning and their bodies are so gorgeous, I don’t –”

He cuts you off, his voice has a sharp edge.

“If you think I look at any other woman… Why would I trade a diamond for a lump of coal?”

You stare at him, eyes wide, your mind reeling. Sylus trails his hands down your neck, to your shoulders before settling on your waist.

“Your body is the only thing I truly crave in this world. More than money or gems. Every moment I am with you is pure bliss. You are my world and you are not going to speak about your body like this. Not anymore.”

You gasp and take a deep breath, your bottom lip still quivering. Sylus reaches for the zippers of your jacket and you tense.

“Let me prove to you that your body deserves to be worshiped.”

You feel a heat course through your veins. 

“Okay.”

He unzips your jacket and circles behind you to tug at the sleeves. He tosses your jacket on the couch and proceeds to lift your tank top. You stand before him in one of your tried and true bralettes, nothing fancy and definitely not supportive, but the lace feels nice. His fingers trace over the delicate pattern sending shivers down your spine. He tucks his fingers under the hem and you raise your arms for him to remove it.

When you’re finally standing in front of him, your chest bare, he takes your hand and pulls you over to the bed. He sits on the edge and holds you in front of him. He places his hands over your ribcage, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. You rest your hands on his forearms, taking a deep breath. 

“Close your eyes.”

You stare at him and open your mouth to argue, but he gives you a warning look. You close your eyes and try to relax your body, but not knowing what he is going to do is making you more anxious and tense. Your forehead starts to hurt from pinching your brows together and you start to wonder if you should have taken some pain relief before starting this… whatever this is… but then Sylus’s mouth presses against your skin. You gasp and grip his arms tighter. He places gentle kisses to the center of your chest, inching closer to your nipples with each kiss. He kisses around your nipple, his nose rubbing against the sensitive flesh making your knees buckle. He leans back and you open your eyes and look down at him, his smile is breathtaking. 

“Turn around.”

You obey instantly, turning around and letting him guide you to sit on his lap. He holds onto your waist as he shifts backwards onto the bed. He settles you between his legs and you lean back against his chest. He places kisses to your neck, sucking and nibbling along the way. His hands rubbing your stomach before he lifts them to fully cup your breasts. 

“Lean your head back and keep your eyes closed for me, angel.”

You do as you’re told, the feeling of his palms pressing against your nipples sending jolts of electricity straight to your clit. You rest your head against him and take slow and steady breaths. His hands shift and you’re about to whine, but then you feel his fingertips press against your nipples. You gasp and push your chest out, his fingers start to move more rapidly, massaging your nipples faster and faster. Rolling the tight buds in circles and occasionally flicking them with his fingernail. You arch your back and moan.

“Ahh… Sy fuck –”

He changes his pace, on one side he pinches and twists while the other he continues to massage and roll and flick. He dips his head down to place kisses to your neck. He switches back and forth over and over, his kisses getting messier as you wiggle against him in ecstasy. He finally sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, the combination of pleasure and pain pushes you over an edge. You reach your hands back and grab onto the back of Sylus’s neck. You can’t catch your breath, his fingers moving at a relentless pace making your nipples tender and swollen. 

“Sylus - ngh - so sensitive ahh…”

He stops suddenly and you sigh, but then he lifts you and stands. He sits you down on the bed and crawls on top of you, you inch backwards on the bed until he grabs your hips to stop you. He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth and you grunt, the bud already overworked. You fist his sweater and tug, you feel the vibration of his laugh against your skin. He releases you for a moment to remove it, his bare chest rests on your stomach. His mouth continues to suck and lick at your nipples, the skin surrounding them and all along the space between. You glance down for just a moment to see your chest littered with marks. You roll your hips and Sylus groans. He hauls himself up and settles his elbows beside your head, his bare chest colliding with yours. 

“You deserve to be worshiped, ravaged, feasted upon…”

He captures your lips with his and kisses you hard, his tongue slipping through your lips in an instant. His warmth seeps through you. You feel like you’re wrapped in a safety blanket. 

“I am more than happy to remind you of that every day, until the end of time if I have to.”

You let out a strangled gasp, a tear slipping down your cheek. He kisses the tear away and presses more gentle kisses all over your face. You know you’ll still have days where you feel self-conscious, but you believe Sylus. He won’t let you forget how precious and desirable you are to him. And you can’t wait to watch him prove it every day, until the end of time.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname

[moechies]

you literally cannot tell me that kaiser doesn't love period sex... hear me out okie!

he's not the biggest fan at first glance. like any other normal being, he thinks it's rather gross and unhygenic -- i mean the period is literally the lining of your uterus being shed, so he's not the biggest fanatic right off the bat.

it's only when he sees you writhing painfully atop of your shared bed, sniffling into the soft sheets with soft groans. he snoops up behind you, pushing your hair back behind your ear before pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek, asking you what's wrong.

he only coos sadly when you tell him it's your period, and it's hurting real bad. he brings a big, warm hand and clasp it over your tummy, asking if there's anything he can do to help. you only shake your head, the least bit frustrated at his ministrations having being worn from the pain all day, and wanting nothing more but to bask in your pain for a bit.

it's only when he's sitting in your guy's living room, waiting on a pack of pads and some sweets he ordered to be delivered to the home, when he comes across a video that claims: having sex on your period makes your cramps hurt less! he quirks a brow and scoffs, in what world would that even make sense? he's quick to scroll on, but can't deny his suspicion on whether the spewing man was right or not. so he opens a searching browser, and upon further research, and scrolls through r/periodsex on reddit, he deemed the man's claim to be strangely correct.

so he titters himself back into the bedroom where you lay, now scrolling on your computer with an abundance of pillows and sheets surrounding each side of your body, and kaiser chuckles at the sight.

"maus.. you've heard that havin' sex on y'r period can rid your cramps?"

you scoff, on par to his reaction but yours expends a little more anger. "that's so stupid, miche." you scowl a bit, face lightening when he reveals a couple chocolate bars and little sweets from his back.

"i dunno, 'id some research 'nd i think it might be true." he whistles, strolling his way over to you and handing you a bar of chocolate, placing the rest onto your bedside table.

"thank you, miche!" you grin, taking a nibble from the sweet, "but, i don't think your little period thing is true. sounds stupid." you're the same as him. no wonder you guys are so perfect for one another.

"hm," kaiser hums, rubbing his chin, "wha'dya say we test it out, maus?"

and that's how he got you here -- arched evilly as his heavy cock head sides back and forth through your aching slit. it spills with tinted slick, coating his pale-pink shaft red.

"micha," you cry out, terribly embarrassed as his slowed actions. you thought he'd be quick to get it over with for your sake, but he seemed to be enjoying this little 'try-out' way too much. "hurry, s--so embarrassed." you cover your face and whine as he taps his cock against your wet cunt, loud, sloppy noises eliciting from the mess. "embarrassed? how come?" kaiser grins, "nothin' t'be embarrassed about, lovie. 's just me."

"i know b--but... don't want y'to think ‘m gross." you whine, handling at the white sheets.

"nothin' you do is gross, maus." kaiser hums. "you understand?" you nod quickly, knowing just how mean he could get if you even bother trying to talk down on his efforts to love you. "hase, i'll put it in now, yeah? tell if it hurts, swear."

"i will! f--fuck me, miche, pleasee," you whine, shaking your ass up against his erection.

"you're shameless, hase." kaiser laughs, wasting no time before he thumbs at the front of his cock, pressing the crown against your weeping slit. you two gasp simultaneously when he fucks only the tip into your cunt -- fuck.

your pussy is so much hotter, and much more tender than it usually is -- and he knows this fact well enough from the amount of times he's made love to this very pussy. you whine when you feel your tummy churn from another cramp, tears building against your lashline. "oh, fuck, hase." kaiser whines, inching himself bit by bit into your sensitive cunt, a gentle thumb coming down to massage at your swollen, pearly clit. "y'alright, maus? need me to stop? or slow?" kaiser asks considerately despite his urge to not listen even if you do tell him to. god, it feels so damn good.

"no! miche, m--more!" you whine,

"haaah," a soft murmur of 'so hot,' is all he can manage as he shuffles himself further and further into your pussy, coming to a halt when he hears a rather pitched yelp.

"hase? y'alright?" you're breathing heavily, paired up with loud breathy moans. he's never seen you in this state with just his cock shoved into you -- without even moving or any other felt on your body. "'s sensitive, yeah? the ladies online said so, too." kaiser hums, thrusting slightly.

"shu--shut up, micha, just fuck me, 'kay? slowly!"

"y'got it, hase, calm down, 'righ? just enjoy it, miche'll make you feel s'good. so fuckin’ pretty hase.”

and god -- when he looks down after pulling out a slight and sees his cock coated in a deep crimson, he groans so unbelievably loud unlike you've ever heard before. the pretty scarlet in contrast to his white skin is throwing him in a loop, unable to help himself as he humps back inside with little remorse. he whimpers and whines each and every time your quivering pussy clenches his cock over and over -- and he's not even sure if you're aware of what you're doing.

"fuck, maus. f--feels good?" he finally cracks, bringing his hand down again to massage at your clit.

"u--uhuh, good.." you mumble, drooling against the sheets with a bit of tongue poking out. fuck, you're cute."

"cum now, baby, c'mon." kaiser leans over, pressing your body further into the sheets with his chest pressed against your bare back. "you can do it." he whispers, watching you unravel and shudder around his cock with a mean pinch to your clit. "m--miche..!" your thighs shiver, crying as you cum meanly on his cock and messing his shaft with a mixture of your creamy nut and rufous blood.

kaiser groans, fucking you gently to ride out your orgasm. his strokes are slow and deep, making you gasp at each initial thrust. "i'll cum inside." not a question, just a statement, a warning if you will.

and he does just that, unraveling just a mere couple seconds after yours and shooting white ropes of thick spent into your poor pussy. he groans and pants all at once, pulling out with a soft plop and pressing a kiss to your asscheek before pulling at it to admire his artwork.

he whistles in awe, watching his load spill out of you and mix with your blood to create a peony pink -- and although feeling a sense of flailing pride having to see his nut spill out of you, he won't chastise his sweet girl for it this time.

"m--miche..."

"yes, baby. let me clean you up." kaiser grunts with a grin, arms wrapping you into his embrace and taking you to the bathroom. "lets shower, yeah? i'll wash y'r hair f'you."

you press a weak hand against his chest, "b--but did you like it? was it g--gross?" you ask nervously, tiredly, unable to meet the man's eyes.

"no, i told you, i'd never find any part of you gross, maus. i loved it." kaiser chuckles, holding no hint of recline in his cerulean eyes. "you sure?"

kaiser scoffs. the one thing about kaiser is that he never lies. he'll tell you straightforward when he oughts, and you know this much. but you can't seem to hide the impending doom of embarrassment that haunts you in the back of your head, even if he affirms you over and over. "like i'd lie, lovie. don't doubt my honesty now. it was fun, ‘nd yer so pretty everywhere." he pinches at your cheek, earning a playful slap to his chest. "how's your tummy? still hurts?"

you shake your head, "no, doesn't hurt anymore, swear." and kaiser only grins, kissing your forehead gently.

"good, lovie. let me warm the water."

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Your Sweet Love;

Pairing; fem!reader X husband! Park Sunghoon Synopsis; As the storm outside unravels, you find yourself having to fight one inside of yourself too. Heavy feelings consuming you. When your husband, Sunghoon, finds you crying, both he and you are forced to face the small something growing between you too. Genre; Arranged marriage trope; Angst; A little fluff if you squint; Warning; Cursing; heavy tension; mentions of abuse; (disclaimer) This post and this story are heavily inspired by the drama 'The Trunk' on Netflix! MASTERLIST

DON'T FORGET: This is only a small drabble to introduce the story! The first chapter will be out this Saturday, the 18th of January!

A/N: This is a little teaser about what's to come! I've had this idea for a few days, and i didnt believe i could turn it into a little book but i did in fact do that haha. This is a little introduction to the story, im still not sure if i will use this in the chapters but here it is anyway! Follow and reblog to not lose the first chapter, im sure you will love it! Thank you so much for the love and support <3

The rain fell mercilessly from the sky, heavy gray clouds painting the atmosphere in dark hues, as silent tears streamed down your cheeks while you sat on the large sofa in your husband's house.

Your gaze remained fixed on the large window, watching the storm unravel before your eyes. Your knuckles turned white as you tightly gripped your navy-colored pajama shirt, trying your best not to make a sound.

Sunghoon sat on the sofa with his peaceful face resting on your thighs. He appeared so sweet with his pouty lips and soft snores. As your gaze wandered to him, you closed your eyes, trying to ease the ache in your heart as his last secret echoed in your mind.

Sunghoon shifted lightly beneath you, drawing your attention. You opened your eyes only to find him gazing up at you with curious eyes. His caring gaze traveled across your face as if trying to understand why tears brimmed in your eyes. Your hands slowly reached for his head, your fingers softly caressing his scalp. Sunghoon closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, savoring the tenderness.

It was the innocence in how you cared for him that began to soften his heart and made him want to open up to you. His past was riddled with deep scars, wounds that seemed to reopen whenever his ex-wife was near—like she embodied his greatest fear: his own father.

“Why are you crying?” Sunghoon asked kindly, his deep brown eyes fixed on the tears that ran down your face.

As he reached out to wipe them away with his fingers, you smiled faintly and shifted your gaze to your hands. Causing your cheeks to warm at his gentle touch.

“The way you’ve been treated by the people who were supposed to take care of you—it’s just so fucking unfair,” you murmured anxiously, unable to contain your feelings anymore.

Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, caught off guard by your words. It was the first time he had heard you curse. Even when he shouted at you, you never lost your composure. He found your compassion deeply moving.

Sunghoon had such a loving heart, his passion so genuine, that people often took advantage of him. It pained you to think of how he had been treated, and knowing the full extent of it made it hurt even more.

The two of you sat in silence for several moments, gazing into each other’s eyes as the rain outside began to ease, much like the storm in your heart. Your hand remained in your husband’s hair as his gaze lingered on you. Guilt filled his chest as he remembered the long months he had ignored you and treated you as though you were merely a maid.

It hadn’t been easy for you at first—watching the meals you spent hours preparing go uneaten as he simply left the house without acknowledging your presence. But as time passed, his strong façade began to crack. Your consistent care, your honesty, and your genuineness were things he had never experienced before.

Sunghoon found himself lost in your beautiful eyes, framed perfectly by long, elegant lashes. His thoughts drifted to all the times you had cared for him without his notice. He remembered the confusion he felt when you invited him to sit beside you on the sofa, telling him he didn’t have to speak—just stay. You knew he needed company more than conversation.

He secretly loved the way you always prepared his clothes and the way you straightened them before he left the house. The proximity made his heart race every time. The way you glanced at him with such warmth and fondness made his chest tighten.

You were calm, patient, and loving—the three things his ex-wife had never been. And that terrified him. What if he couldn’t be the same for you?

“You’ve come such a long way,” you murmured, breaking the silence as you smiled gently at the man resting against you. “You fell asleep so easily. No music, no nightmares, no pills.”

Sunghoon was at a loss for words, the bitter memories of his past surfacing to haunt him. He didn’t want to return to that place—not ever again. He would never trade the stillness and comfort he had with you for the chaotic, unpredictable life he once knew.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he confessed in a low voice, interrupting the stillness that had settled and changing the subject.

Your eyes widened, and your cheeks flushed, caught completely off guard by his words. You suppressed a laugh, glancing away as anticipation fluttered in your chest.

Sunghoon had sworn to you on your wedding night that he would never touch you. Amid cruel accusations, he had called you an opportunist and dismissed you as naive. He had been intoxicated and heartbroken, still bitter from his previous marriage. That night, he vowed he would never kiss you, hold you, or—most certainly—sleep with you.

You had shouted back with equally hurtful words, calling him cold and ridiculous, mocking him for being wealthy yet dependent on pills to function. You had assured him you weren’t there to seduce him, unlike what he thought. This marriage was purely business: you would gain a comfortable life, and he would secure his position to take over his father’s company.

He regretted those words every single day.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, pulling him from his thoughts.

Your hand trembled slightly as you pulled it away from his dark locks. Your eyes wandered across the large living room, avoiding his gaze.

Sunghoon suddenly sat up and moved beside you, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over you. His dark eyes searched your face—your cheeks had turned red, and a timid smile grew on your lips.

Slowly, he reached for your face, gently tilting your chin upward. His heart pounded as your pleading gaze locked with his.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” Sunghoon asked, his voice soft yet firm. As though the weight of the question might shatter him if you said no.

You couldn't hide it anymore—you wanted him as much as he wanted you. So, with your eyes closed and you're breathing unsteady, you responded:

“Yes.”

Your husband didn’t waste any more time; he had already lost too much. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a much-desired kiss. Butterflies spread across your chest and stomach as you felt the warmth of his lips. Your hands instinctively traveled to his shoulders, your fingers curling and tugging at his hair, driving Sunghoon to the brink of madness.

Besides being an amazing cook and wife, you were also amazing at kissing. Your lips molded against his as if they were made for him. Sunghoon felt like he was losing his mind when you pulled away to catch your breath, your shy eyes meeting his as you tried to steady yourself. Your lips glistened under the faint light of the tall lamp near the couch.

Sunghoon was certain you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Your sweet demeanor was winning him over, leaving him feeling like a child deprived of sugar.

A sudden wave of boldness hit you. Small, naughty hands went to rest on your husband’s legs, causing his face to quickly turn towards you. He arched his eyebrow and stared at your embarrassed face.

“Can you kiss me again?” you asked in a low voice, craving the addictive warmth of his mouth once more.

A crack of thunder echoed through the room, filling the silence left by your words. Outside, the rain hit the window like a drumbeat, mirroring the frantic pounding in his chest to the sound of your bold question.

Who was he to deny an angel with such need and love in her voice?

Once again, his right hand reached for your chin as he leaned in. Within seconds, his plump lips were on yours again. Sunghoon tilted his body toward you, wrapping a secure arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest.

A surprised moan escaped your lips at his sudden touch, and he seized the moment to slide his tongue into your mouth, initiating a playful yet passionate battle with yours. Your taste was incredibly addicting, and Sunghoon cursed silently, knowing he wouldn’t be able to go a single day without your kiss now.

Your body was no longer just warm; it was hot, melting under Sunghoon’s hungry lips. He seemed to notice, as a sly smirk formed against your mouth while you kissed. Feeling your chest call for oxygen, you pulled away, completely out of breath.

You carefully studied Sunghoon’s face before meeting his eyes, ensuring he was comfortable with what had just happened. He looked proud and satisfied, his grip still firm around your waist.

Not wanting to push his boundaries, you slipped out of his strong hold and rose silently to your feet. Sunghoon’s eyes followed your every movement, curiosity evident in his expression. Yet you simply bent down, pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, and walked away. The faint sound of your steps grew quieter as you disappeared toward your separate bedroom.

Sunghoon ran a hand through his dark hair and smiled, his heart leaping happily against his rib cage as he finally allowed himself to surrender to your sweet love.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things @nxzz-skz @saphiranishimurashan @ikeupups @yangjungwonnie @xiiaobaoo @itsuen @laylasbunbunny @mellowgalaxystrawberry @firstclassjaylee @questionsdearreader @greeyjre @en-doll @riqomi If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

[quarterlifekitty]

Inspired by this scene

Imagine being Soap’s first serious relationship. And be never got over you. It wasn’t a messy breakup, per se, but it felt so…. Unresolved. Like there was some solution he just couldn’t see that was so close. That you couldn’t see either. Not that you would’ve fought to see it. Not like he would’ve.

And that was the crux of it all. It was like you spoke different languages. That’s what made it so sad. You loved each other, but the way you felt certain things and the way he felt them… were just different. He felt so painfully in love and devoted to you. And what he got in return, the way you gave your love to him, was just something he didn’t know how to parse. At the time he’d said he felt nothing from you, that you weren’t passionate enough, but that wasn’t quite right. He just couldn’t read your signals. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It had happened before, with you. A lot of people didn’t understand how you expressed things.

The entire time he gathered his things in boxes to move, he felt like screaming. He felt red hot all over— ready to burst. You just followed around and tried to help him— as if your heart wasn’t in pieces, like his. As if he wouldn’t have folded like a cheap suit the second you decided to fight to keep him. But you’d never been a fighter. He had to stop himself from snapping at you. Like he was clinging to the things he’d seen in relationships ending his entire life— someone has to play the blame game, right? And to him, you were just as responsible for letting this relationship crumble as he was.

But it was so painfully clear in how you neatly arranged his things for him that you didn’t see it that way. You couldn’t.

He stood with the last of his boxes, hesitating in the doorframe.

“Hen. Humor me. As least fockin’ act like yer sad about this,” he gritted out, trying to keep himself together and not break down crying in front of you.

“I am sad. Well, a part of me is sad. But most of me… is just confused.”

The most painful part of it was how much he believed you.

[acy-onyx]

"If I have one message to give to the secular American people, it’s that the world is not divided into countries. The world is not divided between East and West. You are American, I am Iranian, we don’t know each other, but we talk together and we understand each other perfectly. The difference between you and your government is much bigger than the difference between you and me. And the difference between me and my government is much bigger than the difference between me and you. And our governments are very much the same." -Marjane Satrapi

Y'all

Im not on tiktok and never have been, but I downloaded RedNote just to see what is up, and I am witnessing something truly amazing

The Chinese user community is giving the American tiktok refugees an overwhelmingly warm welcome, meanwhile the American users seem to have collectively agreed that not only will they not let the app be taken over with English and they will provide Mandarin subtitles for everything, they are LEARNING MANDARIN. Ive scrolled through so many videos of Americans offering greetings in Mandarin to try to acclimate to the new environment and be respectful, and speakers of both languages are posting lots of tutorials on language basics and internet slang in Mandarin

My God, there is an AMAZING outpouring of curiosity and delight among everyone to learn about each others cultures and daily lives. People are posting videos of landscapes, cities, towns, and natural areas in USA and China, posting recipes and traditional foods, vlogs of everyday life, and reaching out to find people with similar hobbies.

And it's not just young people! There are loads of videos from middle-aged American guys who have come to post about fishing or motorcycles and are now happily chatting with Chinese users sharing the same interests using Google translate

One American guy who was like. in his 60's had a comment on one of his videos that was like "Red Neck?" and he replied "Yes!" and I just about fucking lost it

Also the Chinese users love, and I mean LOVE, Luigi Mangione. He is apparently broadly adored in China. There is SO much fanart and SO many edits.

There are many threads initiating Chinese users to ask questions of American users about the USA, and vice versa, and everyone on both sides is clearing up a lot of misconceptions. Some of the questions I saw a lot from Chinese users were: "Is it true that American parents kick you out of the house as soon as you turn 18" (not often, but sometimes) "Do you all really wear shoes in bed" (NO!!! Apparently a lot of characters in American sitcoms are shown lying in bed with shoes on which I never noticed before!) and "are there really guns everywhere" (yes).

For the most part Chinese content creators seem just overwhelmed by the sudden influx of hundreds of followers that are super enthusiastic about what they're doing. A lot of them have made posts about how initially they thought the uptick in follower count was some kind of error, or that there was some kind of joke or prank, but then they realized the interest and enthusiasm was genuine and now they're welcoming all the newcomers.

I found several posts by Chinese users saying that this felt like a really profound historical moment, where these previously separated worlds are suddenly smashing together and suddenly there is freedom to learn about each other's cultures and connect. One of them said something along the lines of "This is a 21st century Tower of Babel and even though I'm an atheist I hope God lets this tower stand." OUGH MY HEART.

The app itself works a little bit like a video-based version of Pinterest. It's not really my thing so I probably won't be on there long term but it's been amazing to see what's happening.

[g4rvez-r3id]

Hands to Myself

Post Prison! Boyfriend! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: Since Spencer got out of prison, you two have a bit of a problem keep your hands to yourselves.

Category: Smut

Warnings: established relationship, not much plot- lowkey just smut, physical touch, aftermath of the prison arc, spencer being a lil ooc, reader having dirty thoughts about spencer, spencer & reader being horny 24/7, spencer being a lil cheeky, kissing, smut warnings: quickie, spencer does the knee thing 🙏, brief cunnilingus, spencer being a lil perv (steals reader’s underwear), standing up sex, eye contact 🙈, unprotected sex, creampie.

Author’s Note: spencer reid doing the knee thing. that’s all.

It wasn’t your fault you two just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Since Spencer had come back from three months at the Milburn Correctional Facility, let’s just say — you were fulfilling each other’s appetites.

Of course, three months away from one another stirred up a long conversation that needed to happen between you two. And you talked about how much you missed one another and now you just couldn’t seem to be apart after that.

And it was understandable, Spencer was in prison and you were in your mental prison, thinking about him and hoping to God he’d make it out alive. And by some miracle, he did.

But since he got out, you both longed for that physical touch. You two could be in the same room and go ballistic if you weren’t touching each other. You’d still manage to grab his hand or he’d put his own hand down the small of your back. Even sitting on the jet, you were holding hands nonstop. The only time you’d ever leave the other alone is when they were using the restroom.

At work, you’d managed to keep it together until the end of the day, of course, finding time within your lunches and breaks to just spend with each other. It was a domestic thing, you two shared, it seemed. The physical touch was always a big love language unspoken between you two, even more now that he’d been away.

And it seemed as if the sex had been another thing with you two. Everyone in the office has joked about a couple in the storage room, going at it like rabbits but they never seemed to figure out who it was in the storage room — you and Spencer laughed along despite you both knowing you were the culprits.

Before Spencer went to prison, you were both against the idea of ever doing it in the office, not wanting to jeopardize either of your careers and jobs. But once Spencer got back, a lot of things changed. Especially your hungers for one another.

You seemed to like how possessive he’d gotten over you since he got back. Whether it was placing a hand on your thigh, innocently in the briefing room or holding your waist whilst you were talking to another man in the office, Spencer just couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you. But you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

It’d been another normal day in the office, you and Spencer filling out paperwork at your desks. You’d both been doing better with the touching each other every single day. And to be honest, it was tough at first, but eventually — you two knew what was at stake and it’d be better than to risk it all.

You’d been working on your paperwork, since Emily requested that she needed it by the end of the day. You’d been limping at the finish line with this paperwork, nearly done with it. But then you caught a glimpse at Spencer doing his work.

The way his sleeves were rolled up, the way he pushed his chocolate curls back as he ran a veiny hand — you always had a thing for his hands — through his hair, his stomach filling out the dress shirt he was wearing, but it was just more of him to worship. And the stubble that suited him so well, you couldn’t nearly get enough of it. And then your eyes trailed down to his slacks and how you could see his bulge right through the outline of them and you bit your lip as you thought of the wildest things you could do to him right now, or what you wanted him to do to you.

You didn’t stare long, mostly because Spencer had felt eyes on him and you quickly looked away so you wouldn’t get caught. But it was too late, because he knew even before he looked up that you were staring.

Spencer looks at you, moving your hair back and focusing on your work and he gets an idea, licking his lips and leaving his desk for a brief moment. You watch as he does so, wondering what he’s doing.

You merely go back to work, assuming that maybe he’ll come back within a few minutes when you get an alert on your cell phone on your desk.

You check in to see there’s a text message from your boyfriend.

Spencer: The old firing range. Wait a few minutes before leaving so as not to draw suspicion.

You smirk, to yourself wondering what this little visit to the old firing range would entail. You on your knees or him on his? Your thighs rub together at the thought. You look around and Spencer is definitely gone and most likely at the old firing range now. Which is probably why he told you to wait a few minutes.

So, you wait five minutes before eagerly getting up and correcting your posture and walking out of the bullpen and getting into the elevator. You can hardly contain your excitement as something fills your belly with a pool of lust as you watch the numbers go to the last button of the elevator and you smirk to yourself as the doors open, heart racing and limbs trembling as you walk through and find the door you need.

You walk in and you look around, Spencer’s nowhere to be found and then you feel arms wrap around you and hot breath down your neck. You nearly jump and nearly thrash around but Spencer is quick to say — “It’s just me.” You melt into his touch and take a breather, confused on if you either want to yell at him for scaring you or kiss him. You ultimately choose the latter as you turn around, giving him a peck.

“Hi.” You giggle and he smiles as he softly greets you, “Hey.” He caresses your face, examining every feature before lowering his face down to your neck, leaving you kisses on your neck. “You know, if someone notices we’re both gone, Emily is gonna have our heads on a platter.” You tell. To say that you were making this a habit was an understatement. Someone was eventually gonna catch on to what you were both doing, especially if there were marks on your neck.

“Well, let’s hope nobody notices. Not that I really care anyways.” Spencer stated and you shake your head at your silly man. All logical thought seems to go out the window when it comes to you having sex, not that you mind. He kisses at your lips again, holding your face in your hands before pushing you up against the wall, his hand behind your head so you don’t hurt yourself as you continue to make out.

He kisses against you neck again and this time, raises his knee in between your legs, enough to put pressure and you gasp at the feeling, you almost begin to rub yourself back and forth on his knee.

“How greedy you are.” Spencer growls into your ear and your smirk, “I could say the same thing for you.”

Without another word, Spencer moves back a bit and gets on his knees and Jesus, you could always get used to that sight. You always loved seeing him on his knees. He takes his hands up and down your thighs and bunches up your pencil skirt and you feel his fingers on the waistband on your panties as he pulls your panties down — and stuffs them in his pocket — and gazes at your wet pussy.

He doesn’t hesitate to stick his face in between your thighs and you moan out, holding his head close to your body as he swirls his tongue around your clit in figure-8’s for a moment before pushing himself off your cunt and kisses your pussy before coming back up and kissing you on your lips. You become dizzy as you taste yourself on his lips.

You begin unbuckling his belt around his torso and unzipping his slacks, pulling his cock out. He also licks his fingertips, trying to get himself well-lubricated before sticking himself inside of you. He strokes his cock a few times before adjusts himself against you, sheathing his dick inside of you.

You nearly shout as you feel him inside of you, back arching against the granite wall and Spencer braces his hands against the wall as he moves his hips in and out of you. He tilts your head to meet his eyes and he seems to go faster as he stares deep into your eyes.

“Oh, my god…” You whisper as he keeps fucking you at a steady rhythm. He’s even whining at his own movements. “God, I love you.” He says and you dig your hands into his curls as you mutter against his lips, “I love you, too.”

Spencer manages to grab one of your hands, holding it against the wall as he keeps fucking you and you can feel him pushing himself to the brinks and you’re almost there yourself.

“Cum inside me, Spence. Please. I need it.” You beg, holding him close against you. “Are you sure?” Spencer grunts and you plead, “Yes, yes!” He groans as he stills himself inside of you, filling you up in that way you love.

You lean against the wall, growing lightheaded. Spencer slips himself out of you, fixing your skirt and pressing a kiss to your forehead before stuffing himself back in his pants.

Spencer holds your face with his hands and looks at you. “You okay?” You nod with a smile, “Amazing.” You take a deep breath and then you look around, Spencer noticing your very evident and prominent frown on your face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. “Where are my—?” You stop in your tracks before narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend, that has a guilty smirk on his face. “Spencer, give me my panties back.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Spencer plays off but you shake your head, “Spencer, you literally came inside of me, I need my panties.”

“Maybe you’ll get them back. Maybe.” A code word for not a chance.

Suddenly, Spencer’s cell phone buzzes and he checks it with a grimace. “Uh, oh.” He says.

“What?” You ask.

“Emily’s caught on. She says we need to come back from our shenanigans and actually need to get some work done.” Spencer tells.

“You might as well tell her that you just can’t keep your hands to yourself.” You tease. “Which you can’t, by the way.”

Spencer shrugs, “I mean, I could, but why would I want to?”

[dmwrites]

The End seemed safe. Cleo thought. Nothing was safe, therefore, the most dangerous place to be would probably be the safest. She knew it didn’t make any sense, but nothing did, with gravity losing its pull and blocks getting sucked up into the sky and the damn moon not so much setting anymore.

Cleo went to the End by herself, and she regretted it. Not just becasuse the endermen were agitated and began pulling her rotting corpse of a body apart, but because she was alone. But the endermen were annoying too. Cleo understood it, to some extent. The world was ending, and it was either pulling up the few blocks of endstone that made up the ground under their feet, or pull her apart. They tore at her, her skin and bones taken from her body with screams to echo her own. They stayed angry, even if she didn’t look at them.

Cleo stopped fighting after a while. As far as she knew, everyone in the overworld was probably dead or gone now, so what really was the point? She was alive, but in the hands of terrified endermen. Soon, surely, she would join her friends in the afterlife. At least, that’s what she hoped.

And when the end of the world came and went, what remained in its wake was everywhere. Cleo lay in pieces, watching the world around her fall apart in ways that didn’t even make sense. She tried to call out for death, but there was no sound. The very little bit of her undead consciousness that remained held on, watching in horror.

And then, there was silence. For a long, long time. And Cleo was alive. Well, she was dead, but she’d always been dead. Death, it seemed, didn’t want her.

Her body lay in pieces, unseeing, hurting, and she wondered, in thoughts that took eons of effort to construct, if she would remain in this vacuum of time and space forever- almost nothing, but painfully enough.

And then, something changed. It wasn’t obvious at first, as the pain consumed her constantly. But then something touched her cheek. Something smooth, soft, warm, so different from every feeling that had consumed her for so long. Cleo couldn’t see, couldn’t speak, was torn so far apart that she was hardly anything at all, and yet she felt the warm touch of a human being. And then, a touch on her eyelid. Then her bottom lip. Then her neck. Someone was putting Cleo back together.

The pain was still there, but lessened now, day after day, as her body was reconstructed. Nerves and muscle and tissue were woven into place, and Cleo became more and more aware. First it was touch, the tugging of string, the swipes on a hand. Then smell. The person smelled of flowers, of sun-soaked soil. Then she could hear, a gentle humming that soaked into her very skin.

And then, one day, Cleo could see. Hands pulled away from her eyes, and there was a face hovering over her own. Long brown hair curtained Cleo’s face from the outside world, wherever that might have been. Cleo blinked hard, and the face came into focus. A long, angular face and wide blue eyes. Familiar. Not here, not in the reality Cleo had been pulled apart in. But familiar.

“Hi Cleo,” Pearl said. “You can hear me, can’t you? Blink twice if you can- your voice box isn’t re-installed yet, sorry ‘bout that.”

Cleo blinked twice, and Pearl’s face lit up in a huge smile.

“Cleo! Oh, I’m so glad you can understand! Golly, I… I’ll keep plucking away at this- you! Just… stay with me, okay?”

Pearl sewed Cleo back together with strings of sunlight and moonlight, all intertwined together to make her skin whole again. Gentle touches as she moved muscle and bone back into place, somehow reforming Cleo like she was clay. Pearl talked as she worked, fingers flying with hesitant assurance over Cleo’s body.

“I just never expected my cousin to actually come to visit. Silly girl.”

“It was horrible, just horrible to fall into that hole and not know where we were going to come back out. My wonderful friends, each one of them popped out of existence, one after the other.”

“They’re safe now, though. I saw to that. You will be too, Cleo. We all will. I promise.”

“I knew I had to find the rest of you, bring us to our new home.”

And at some point, Cleo opened her mouth and spoke.

“Pearl.”

“Oh golly goo! Cleo! Oh my god! You scared the life out of me! Does it hurt at all, does everything seem right?” hands flew to Cleo’s throat, gently palpating and examining. Pearl had a huge smile on her face.

“It doesn’t hurt. Not at all,” Cleo answered.

Pearl laughed, a kind of choked up noise that was so painfully human, something Cleo thought she’d never hear again. For the first time in a very long time, Cleo felt hope.

“Oh, I’m so glad, Cleo. You don’t know how afraid I was. Still am, because you don’t exactly have all your bits back, now do you. There is still your legs, and more nerve endings…”

As Pearl went to put a hand to Cleo’s face, Cleo grabbed her wrist. “How are you doing this, Pearl? This shouldn’t be possible. What you’re doing is… I don’t know, magic?”

Pearl shook her head. “Cleo, please just let me work. It’s not… just trust me, okay?” She wrenched her hand out of Cleo’s grasp.

Cleo knew this was real. She could reach out, touch Pearl’s hair, her face, her hands. She could see Pearl work now, leaned against an obsidian tower, looking out over a vastness of endstone, and darkness beyond that. An end island she distinctly remembered watching fall apart into nothingness. But here it was. Whole. Here she was. Almost whole. And there was Pearl, finishing up the stitching on Cleo’s legs with golden string that seemed to shine with a light that came from within itself.

Cleo stood.

“Who are you?”

Pearl walked her, arm in arm, to the portal in the middle of the island.

“I’m Pearl.”

Cleo looked at her. Underlit from the swirling portal like this, she looked tired. Her sunflower crown was wilting. Her green dress was coated with endstone dust. She was Pearl, but Cleo knew she was someone else too.

“Are you coming with me?”

“No. I’ll meet you there. I have others to find,” Pearl reached forward and hugged Cleo tight before stepping backwards into the end portal and disappearing.

The End was quiet now. Endermen had reappeared at some point, strolling among the reconstructed pillars and paying her no mind. Cleo looked over the island in grim amazement, more questions in her mind then answers. She ran a hand down her arm, assuring herself once more that she was real, she was as whole as a rotting corpse could be, and all of this was real too. It was. She was. Despite it all, she was going to be okay. She was going to see her friends again.

Cleo jumped into the end portal and closed her eyes.

——

The first day on the Hermitcraft season nine server, Cleo found herself counquoring a woodland mansion (“who on earth does this first day?” Cleo asked herself multiple times) with Impulse, Gem, and Pearl.

Pearl and Cleo died to a creeper explosion at the same time, and ended up respawned in the bed they’d set just for that purpose.

“Hi.”

“Hi Cleo.”

Cleo looked at Pearl. She was dressed in a pair of shorts and a hoodie, hair thrown back messily. Cleo almost wouldn’t have believed that this was the same girl who had stood over her in a flowing green dress, with her magic needle and thread, if it wasn’t for the knowing smile Pearl gave her.

“I guess I owe you,” Cleo said.

“You don’t owe me a thing,” Pearl replied, shaking her head.

“But-”

“Cleo! Pearl! Impulse just found a library and I’m pretty sure he’s gonna get blown up by creepers! You gotta come watch this!” Gem interrupted, yelling at them from a broken window.

“Coming!” Pearl replied, and took Cleo’s hand. “Come on, Cleo. We’ve got much more fun ahead of us. The past can wait.”

Cleo followed Pearl, still with more questions then answers. But Pearl was right. They were all together again, and there was much fun to be had. Cleo pushed the memories of pain, of light, of hope, into a small corner of her mind, and went to watch Impulse climb a ladder. He did get blown up, as it turned out. And it was hilarious.

[doberbutts]

Oh it's a year later but I've seen my sister's kids a few times last year and have an update.

Update one: boy am I bad at math and also remembering ages. My niece was born just *before* covid, not during.

I hadn't seen them since *just after* covid- it has been so long I wasn't sure if they'd remember me, and with HRT I look much different now.

In September I attended a family event in which the kids were present and they came running to me and gave me a big bear hug each. Again, that is fairly out of character for them both. They followed me around at the event and asked me many questions about the dogs and also asked if they could play with the dogs. When we sat down to eat they both briefly chose to scramble into my lap before deciding sitting in their own chairs was more comfortable. After dinner they asked to play with me- as many games as they could think of. Throwing a ball back and forth, "tennis" with a birdie and a couple toy rackets, chasing the dogs, dolls vs action figures, and more.

Notably, they did *not* interact with other extended family members, including the ones they live closer to and they see more often.

Tantrums were at an all time low because they were given many options for good behavior and then promptly rewarded for making good choices.

I'm not saying her kids are perfect, because they aren't. But I am saying that even years later it's such a visible difference. I gave them each a toy. They both- according to my sister- refused to let their toys out of their sight or even out of their hands for the next three weeks. My niece tried to sneak off with my chihuahua. My nephew told me as he sat on my lap that when he's an adult he wants to have a doberman just like my dog. Fenris licked all over his head and face and he laughed in delight and kept calling him back over to do it again. My niece has not stopped telling her mother that the only thing she wants for her birthday is a cute little white dog like Tater.

They see my aunt every day because she lives locally and helps take care of them. In fairness, yes, her personality is A Lot (so are theirs, they're just kids and don't understand that). But they remained at minimum 10 feet away from her and well out of her reach the entire event. My aunt means well- she has a big heart that is overflowing with affection and all she wants to do is pour love on "her babies". As a long time recipient of this love, it is also the way *I* show affection... and it is very grabby and very suffocating and the kids just aren't into it. I don't know that I've always liked her crushing hugs that just touch the "too tight kinda hurts" zone. I think I probably liked them less when I was a child myself. Being snagged into one as you're walking by isn't an uncommon occurance, and these kids aren't the world's biggest fans of physical affection they can see coming let alone that takes them by surprise.

I posted a few weeks ago when my would-be rapist died, killed by someone witnessing him attack yet another victim. Thankfully he never got far enough in the process to have done more than set off alarm bells- but it does make me wonder. All the times my consent was never even considered as a kid, and how reluctant I was to speak up when yet another adult was touching me in a way that made me uncomfortable and sort of miserable and kinda hurt. I wonder if 14 year old me would have kept my mouth shut for as long as I did, or if the first time his hand wandered from between my shoulder blades to something much lower I would have found the courage to say that I didn't like that.

What made me talk to my parents about it was when he was appearing in my bedroom without knocking, just staring at me as he caught me changing clothes after I got home from school. More than once. That, I knew, wasn't normal.

But I wonder if I would have known his hand drifting past my waist, his insistence on hugging me and pulling me into his lap, his constant need to hover in my personal space and keep his hands on me at all times, also wasn't normal. I wonder if I had been taught "it doesn't matter who they are, if you're uncomfortable you can tell them to stop and they should listen and if they don't they're a bad person and you should get away from them because they might hurt you".

I was a spanked child. I was forced to eat things that hurt my stomach and made me vomit. I would say I didn't like something and then be tricked into doing it anyway. I was shamed for refusing touch, and shamed for offering it. I had no control over anything I did until after I moved several states and chose homelessness over staying at my parents' house.

And I wonder if, had I had someone who advocated for me like I did for my niece, or if I had witnessed it like my nephew watching the exchange, if things could have been different. If my "almost" would have instead been "nipped in the bud and never occurred again".

I see a lot of posts saying "teach boys about consent".

While that is true, a lot of parents will do that and fail to see how their own actions are the problem.

If you've spanked him, he's less likely to understand consent.

If you've forced him to sit on Santa's lap, he's less likely to understand consent.

If you've forced him to give hugs and kisses to family members, he's less likely to understand consent.

If you've grabbed him in order to force him to sit still, he's less likely to understand consent.

If you've labeled him as "too sensitive" for not wanting to be touched, he's less likely to understand consent.

If you've assumed he's okay with something because he technically allowed it even though he felt pressured, he's less likely to understand consent.

If you're only going to criticize his actions but not your own, it won't work.

[cherriegyuu]

one and the same | k.mg

pairing: mingyu x f!reader - friends to lovers genre: angst, fluff, suggestive, hurt/comfort word count: 7.6k summary: mingyu only had eyes for gyuri, and you only had eyes for mingyu warnings: mentions of alcohol and food a/n: it's been a really long time since i posted anything at all, so this is almost new lol. huge thanks to @joonsytip who not only was my beta for this one, but also read each paragraph as i wrote it. i hope you like it!!

You lowered the camera in your hands, your eyes focusing on the man at the end of the porch, on his furrowed eyebrows, crossed arms over his chest, and the redness at the tip of his ears—a clear sign that he should have listened when you told him to put on a beanie.

The faint winter sunlight touched his skin in a caressing manner but did very little actually to warm him up. Your words from the night before kept on echoing through his mind

“There’s nothing wrong in taking a step back and putting some distance between you and something that hurts you”

It was the first time he had ever seen Gyuri like that, as a catalyst for pain, in his life. Throughout all the years he had known her, Mingyu thought of her almost as a haven, the one person he went to when he needed comforting. It took him such a long time to understand that she was also the reason why he needed comforting in the first place. 

Maybe it was all his own fault, if he had made a move when an opportunity presented itself, and there was at least a handful of them over the years, he wouldn’t be feeling like that like he had just missed his very last chance. 

He felt even worse for thinking that way when he knew how deeply in love she was with Seungcheol, how her entire face lit up at the mere mention of his name, how the man would break himself into pieces if it meant that he would get to see her smile once again. 

“I didn’t mean to make you sad when I said those things to you last night”

Mingyu finally turned to you, the frown on his face easing once he saw you, a smile taking over his lips as he shook his head. 

“You didn’t. I asked you to be honest and you were, I should have been prepared to not like what you thought of the whole thing”

You hang the strap of the camera on your shoulder, taking decided steps towards him. He suddenly felt shy at the fact that your eyes never left him, even when someone walked by and said hello. Your response came quick and polite, your customer service voice taking over but the person never really got your attention. 

“Mingyu” his name left your lips in a quiet tone, your eyes suddenly searching his face.

“What?” his voice too was quiet, like he could barely push the word out. 

He didn’t know what this sudden change in your demeanor meant. You had always been on each other's tails, bickering away just for the fun of it. He wasn’t too sure how to react to a different version of you, a you who seemed to care for him far deeper than he could have ever anticipated. 

You extended your hand, cupping his cheek while your thumb ran over his lip. A second later your other hand was on his face as well, only this time it ran from his nose up to his eyebrows. 

“Stop forcing yourself to smile when you don’t feel like it. You don’t have to pretend, at least not with me”

It felt weird to be the one nursing someone’s broken heart while said someone is someone you liked. While you sat there, by his side, helping him pick up the broken pieces of his heart, your own stood in front of him jumping up and down as if saying “Look at me! I’m standing right here, all you have to do is notice me”

There you were in this romantic place, in front of a fireplace, a glass of wine in your hand, a blanket around your shoulders, the guy you had a crush on by your side, his knee bumping into yours, all the while you felt your own heart breaking. 

You had set yourself up for failure, that much was beyond obvious, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself. The moment you saw Mingyu stand in front of you, in clear distress, eyes red with unwashed tears, your heart both constricted and expanded, all at once. 

It felt good that he had gone to you but it also felt terrible to know that he was suffering and there was nothing you could do to ease his pain away. 

“I never asked you why you brought me here with you,” Mingyu said during dinner. 

It was the first week of January, the start of a new year, the start of, hopefully, a lifetime together for your clients, but to you, it was just another day working. In your mind, after calming down a very distraught Mingyu, inviting him to a resort in the middle of the winter made sense. A change in scenario, you had convinced yourself, would be too good for him, it was far better than staying at his apartment thinking about Gyuri and her now imminent marriage. 

“I needed help carrying the heavy stuff,” you laughed. 

It was a clear lie. You had given the week off to Chan three seconds after you said bye to Mingyu, but he didn’t need to know that. You knew that he would never find the truth out, he had never even met Chan before, and the last thing he’d ask was why Chan had to skip work – another lie about Chan’s mom needing him.

“You know I don’t believe you, right?” he had his eyebrows raised, waiting for your confirmation “We both know that you’d rather cut off an arm than ask for help, especially my help”

It’s how two people can have extremely different views of the same situation. In your mind, you always did your best to be around Mingyu whenever you could, most of the time you were truly really close to looking like a pathetic mess. 

Should you have played the damsel in distress card? Would that have helped your situation in the least? It was hard to tell. Although Gyuri wasn’t one to demand attention, Mingyu was constantly around for her, whatever she needed, he was there. 

You sipped on your wine, your eyes never daring to stay on him for more than a second at a time. All the bravado you had shown earlier, getting too close, touching him in a way that felt so intimate, was absolutely gone. There wasn’t a single drop of it in your bloodstream anymore. 

“Come on, I’m not that bad” your voice was a whiny childish sound and you hated it. 

Mingyu laughed, his head tilted back, the corners of his eyes creasing, his teeth on full display. After the laughter died all that was left was his breathtaking smile. Your heart did backflips in your chest, like celebrating a gold medal. It was the first time he had smiled, a real smile after Gyuri told him that she was getting married next September. 

“You’re far worse, to be honest” you rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder with yours, causing him to laugh once again. 

It was why you had started to bicker, in the first place, because you wanted to see him smile more, wanted to get his mind off of whichever dark place it had drifted to. If a little banter, a snarky comment here and there, were enough to brighten up his day, then you were all for it. 

“Be honest with me, just this once” he asked, trying to make his eyes go as wide as possible like puss in boots.

You laughed and pushed his face away from yours.

“I’m always honest” you played defensive.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. 

“I never know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours” he tapped your temple twice before letting his fingers slide over your face, down to your chin until his hand finally landed back on his lap. 

You pulled your knees against your chest and rested your cheek on them, not giving yourself any option but to look at Mingyu. How many times had you stared at him bluntly but he never noticed? However many it was, it was enough for you to have his face memorized. The light curve of his nose, the tiny mole on its tip, his soft eyes, the way his lips would quickly turn into a pout when he felt contradicted. 

“We’re one and the same, Mingyu” you allowed yourself to say. 

You knew that Mingyu would never connect the dots, knew that he would never be able to tell. Unlike him, you were careful with how you expressed your feelings. Mingyu was loud and obvious, everyone knew about it, and it was clear for anyone to see, while it would take someone who really knows you to tell the difference and in the circle you shared with Mingyu no one knew you that well. So, your biggest secret, the truth you were reluctantly sharing would fall on deaf ears. 

“Who is he?” he whispered, pressing his body closer to yours. 

You thanked the gods that each of you had your blanket, you wouldn’t survive if the only thing separating the two of you was your shirts.

“Doesn’t matter, he doesn’t like me back” your smile was sad, like you had already given up entirely on the matter, and in some way you had. 

“Who is the idiot that doesn’t like you?” his expression turned into a scowl as if he couldn’t really believe you “I can punch some sense into him if want, it would be great to let some aggression out”

He was joking, it was obvious. You knew that it was just a joke, but somehow you found yourself trying to swallow the lump that had suddenly become prominent in your throat, trying to blink away the burning sensation in the back of your eyes. 

Why would his words suddenly cause that reaction? You had, as much as possible, made peace with the idea of never being loved back by him. There would never be a version of the world where the two of you ended together. Hell, not even an end, just a long period of time. 

In Mingyu’s heart, there wasn’t enough space for you. All the love that he had to give was given to someone who didn’t want it. 

“Hey, no, I’m sorry” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into him, placing a kiss on the top of your head “I didn’t mean to make you cry”

His words and actions only made you cry harder. For a brief moment in time, you were exactly where you wanted to be with who you wanted by your side. It was maybe the saddest moment you had ever found yourself in. 

“You’d lose” you whispered against his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat like a sweet lullaby “It’s the kind of fight you could never win”

You pulled yourself away from him, but Mingyu didn’t seem willing to let you go. His arm barely moved. Instead, he only gave you enough room to move so that you could look at him. 

His eyes had gotten too intense to the point you felt your cheeks get warm under his gaze. Mingyu’s eyes moved from your own to your lips, then back and forth again. 

Your breath got caught when you felt him lean forward and stop. He was half an inch away as if asking for permission or consent. You could have said no, you could have pushed him away, could have done anything at all to stop what was about to happen. Instead, you inched forward and pressed your lips to his. 

Your entire body melted under his touch, the loudness in your mind suddenly quiet at his touch. A quiet moan escaped your lips when Mingyu deepened the kiss, his tongue demanding passage through your lips as one of his hands traveled to your neck, the tip of his thumb on your chin, slightly tilting your head back. Your hands created a kind of their own, running over his clothed chest to the back of his head, your fingernails scratching his scalp. 

It would be a lie to say that you had never imagined yourself in a similar position. Nothing in the world, no amount of imagination, could have ever prepared you for the real thing. How hot your skin got under his skills lips, how your body molded into his once he pulled you over his lap, how you nearly lost your mind when he sucked on your neck leaving a mark that you knew would last for days on end. 

You pulled back for a second, needing to catch your breath again. Mingyu looked at you with glassy eyes while trying to catch his breath too. He moved his hand down your back, going slower at the curve of your ass and the back of your thighs, his touch teasing, daring almost, as he smiled. 

“This is a terrible idea” you whispered. 

Mingyu smiled then, pulling your body flush against his, your center pressed over his growing erection. 

“No” he murmured over your lips “It’s the best idea we’ve ever had”

The sound of Mingyu’s footsteps rang repeatedly in your mind like it was happening all over again. If it had been weeks since it happened, since you pretended to be asleep when you felt he untangle his body from yours, quietly put on his clothes, and leave the room after he made sure you were fully covered with the blanket. It was a sound that kept you awake at night and when you did manage to sleep it haunted you in your dreams. 

You didn’t know what you were expecting from him, from the situation. The truth of the matter was that you shouldn’t be expecting anything at all to begin with. 

Taking Mingyu on your work trip had been the start of all your terrible ideas. It was followed by the colossal mistake of being with him in a dimly lit room and then everything after. 

You had never seen or heard from him again. When you finally managed to move into bed, after the pain in your heart eased enough to allow you to breathe, you saw his text on your phone “sorry, something came up and i had to leave in a hurry, let’s talk soon, okay?”.

The soon he mentioned never happened. You didn’t want to be the first one to reach out to him. You would never give someone, even if that someone was the person you were in love with, the chance to see you at your worst. Being the first one to call would be exactly that. 

On top of it all, you were well aware of what you were getting yourself into. You knew Mingyu was in love with Gyuri, you knew that there wasn’t the slightest chance of that weekend becoming something more than it was, of somehow changing your relationship with him. It did, in fact, change, but not in the way you’d expect. 

Your phone on the table lit up, an incoming call. There were days you had expected a call from Mingyu, wished and prayed for it. You had chosen to believe when he said that the two of you would talk soon, but a day turned into a week, a week into two. Eventually, you gave up. 

The only person that still called you was Gyuri.

“Are you free this weekend?” she asked before you even said hello. 

“No, I’ve got work, on both days” 

You put your phone on speaker, not bothering to even raise it to your face. You were tired, your entire body aching from the kickboxing classes you started a few days before. All you wanted was to finish your meal and go to bed. 

“Your job sucks” she complained and you could hear Seungcheol’s laugh in the background. 

“My job is great and it pays more than yours, babe” the teasing in your voice was evident, the first time you smiled at something regarding Gyuri. 

“I’m still waiting on Seungcheol to make me a housewife,” he said something in the background but you couldn’t tell what it was. 

Their relationship dynamic was cute, it was clear from the moment Gyuri introduced Seungcheol to the friend group. She made a whole announcement off of it, there were so many warnings around it. You still remember clearly how Mingyu’s entire expression changed, his bright eyes slowly lost their spark. It was the first, and only, time you hated Gyuri. 

“Where will you be working?”

“Saturday on the cathedral downtown and Sunday two towns over, a beach ceremony”

“Your favorite,” she said dreamily.

Over the years being a photographer you found out that your dream perfect wedding wasn't one many people were willing to have. The whole setup for a wedding was expensive on its own, the word wedding making every price skyrocket, but having it on a beach was that much harder. 

“Yeah, my absolute favorite”

Mingyu was an asshole, he was well aware of it. He felt like an asshole when he left you, when he wasn’t the first one to reach out to you even though speaking with you was probably the one thing he wanted the most. 

The problem was him, it had been all along. 

When Mingyu was with you during that weekend it felt like the pieces of his shattered heart were mending together. All cracks and scratches were still visible, the pain was still kind of there but much more subtle than it had ever been. And then you were in his arms, body tangled with his, a mess of shaky breaths, sweat, and moans. Suddenly it was like all the gears in his mind and body had clicked together, like everything was finally in the right place. 

And it scared him. 

For a moment, perhaps in his innocence, Mingyu thought that spending the night together would bring somewhat of a solace to the both of you. He didn’t think something in him would change. He didn’t think a change could happen so fast. He was overcome with fear, so he left. 

Seeing you there, wrapped up in him, a look of complete peace on your face caused a new wave of feelings to crash over him. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to untangle himself from you. He wanted to enjoy the warmth of your body, wanted nothing more than to simply hold you the entire night and wait to see what morning brought to him. But as Mingyu lay there, the feel of your heartbeat on his chest, the conversation you shared a couple of hours before suddenly came back to him. 

We’re one and the same, Mingyu. 

Doesn’t matter, he doesn’t like me back.

Yet again, Mingyu saw himself in the position of being interested in someone who had no interest in him. So he left. 

Every single cell in his body demanded that he call you, that he went to you. He wanted to hug you again and know, god knows how, that you were made to be in his arms. He wanted to kiss you again and hear the sounds you made. He wanted to fall asleep by your side and wake you up with kisses on that sweet spot on your neck that he learned all too quickly about. 

Still, he held himself back. 

The whole situation seemed unfair to him. He wanted to be with you while still kind of liking someone, you wanting to be with someone else but somehow settling for him. 

“What happened between the two of you?” he heard someone ask by his side. 

Mingyu looked away from the door and to Gyuri, who had a perfect frown on her face. When she called and invited him for dinner he almost said no, but when she mentioned that she had invited you as well, he knew that he would be there.  He waited for the thing for days, his heart flipping as it got closer to the time of the dinner. But once Mingyu got there and realized that you were nowhere to be seen and that you wouldn’t show, he wanted to leave. 

“What do you mean?”

Gyuri rolled her eyes and sighed, clearly pissed off. 

“I know yn invited you to go on her work trip and although I might not know why and what you even did there, I do know that something happened. She’s barely talking with me, and you’re barely speaking to me. She shuts down the moment I say your name and you’ve been looking at that door like you’re waiting for someone and the only other person I invited today was her. So you’re going to tell me what happened between the two of you, right now, or Seungcheol is going to beat you until do”

She was out of breath when she stopped talking. Mingyu turned to Seungcheol, eyebrows raised, but all the other man did was laugh and shake his head. 

It’s almost comical how Mingyu used to see Seungcheol almost as a competitor, but while sitting on said man’s couch he looked like just any other dude. 

Mingyu half expected something to happen inside of him when he saw Gyuri but it was just like seeing any other of his friends. Nothing happened, there was no tension, no urge to leave because he hated to see you around Seungcheol. There was indeed a need to leave, but it was to go towards you. 

“Can you find out for me where she’ll be this weekend?” 

He was avoiding his question, sure, but he had also made a decision. Mingyu was a man with a mission. 

There was something that brought you peace when you worked. It was hectic, yes, and loud, but the second you held the camera and pointed it at something it was like the volume of the world was turned down. It was like an almost out-of-body experience. This feeling paired with the incredible view of the beach, made your heart feel good for the first time in months. 

It was already the end of the celebration, half of the guests were drunk and the other half was helping those who were. The newlyweds had left and there wasn’t anything else to do. You packed your equipment, put it in your car, and went in the opposite direction of the wedding. 

Although you enjoyed being at the beach, you rarely went to one. The craziness of the day, the lack of a routine, and sudden weddings, all made it impossible for you to have a day or two off. There was also the fact that you had been avoiding free time because it gave you a chance to think about Mingyu, and thinking about him usually led to crying, crying led to binge eating sessions that would inevitably cause a migraine. 

You doubted your heart would heal any time soon. It was like the wound was still open, thinking about him or talking to Gyuri was like throwing salt at it. 

You heard your name being called and turned around. Slowly you turned around, certain that you were confused about who was calling you. There was no way it was actually Mingyu. 

However, there he was. In light-colored pants and a dress white shirt with the first three buttons open, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was much longer than it was the last time you saw each other, falling over his eyes slightly, his cheeks were red from being exposed to the sun for too long. He had the most beautiful smile as he walked towards you, one of his hands in his pocket, the other carrying his shoes. 

It was almost pathetic how your heart was suddenly filled with hope and joy at the mere sight of him, after months of complete silence. 

“I can see why beach weddings are your favorite, it’s really beautiful out here”

You wanted to ask how he knew that or why he was even there, to begin with, but you didn’t, sure that Gyuri’s sudden call on Thursday had something to do with it. Instead, you turned around and kept walking until you reached the spot you were looking for. Looping down on the sand you removed your shoes and tossed them aside, happy to finally feel the sand under your skin. 

“I’m sorry I left like that,” he said as he sat by your side “and I’m sorry I didn’t call you like I said I would”

You shook your head. 

“It’s fine, I could have called you too” 

Whatever was the meaning of the conversation, whatever was the reason why he went after you, you wanted to be over already. There’s only so much hurt a heart should be able to handle and your quota had been met a long time ago. 

“Can you let me explain?” 

Mingyu reached for your hand but you pulled it away. You were already so close to just allowing yourself to fall into that same wheel of repetition with him, putting yourself through absolute pain to be around him. You needed to break the cycle and that meant being away from him – though you were sure the whole what the eyes don’t see, the heart doesn’t feel thing was actually a bunch of crap because your heart was hurting plenty, even after months of being away from him. 

“You don’t need to” you hid your hands under your thighs when you noticed that he might reach out again “I knew what I was getting myself into that night, it’s not like you played me or anything”

Saying those things out loud brought an entire new wave of pain to you. In a certain way, keeping quiet about those feelings, refusing to cry over them, was like shoving all of it into a box and pretending it never really existed, or maybe that it was a dream all too real. 

“I left because I was overwhelmed. I thought I had all my feelings figured out, and thought that it would be about two people with a one-sided crush finding a bit of solace in each other. But then…” he paused and turned his body to you and you had to use all your self control not to look at him, to not fall into the deepness of his eyes “Being with you was like finally being able to breathe or stepping out of a cave for the first time in my life. You were the light drawing me out the whole time and I was just too dumb to realize it sooner”

You closed your eyes as the tears started to rolê down your cheeks, even if crying in front of him was the last thing you possibly wanted. 

Mingyu was saying all of the right things, all the things you always wanted to hear from him, but somehow your heart got tighter inside your chest. There was no relief, just more pain. 

“So you’re not in love with Gyuri anymore?” 

Your heart constricted just at the thought of his answer. 

“I’m sure I was at some point but I think somewhere along the line I simply got used to it so I didn’t know how to fully let go”

“So I’d be your rebound? The getting under someone to get over someone thing?”

Those words hurt so much to say, it was like taking a knife to your skin and pricking it open, not enough to bleed but just enough to burn and scorch. 

“No! No, of course not!” the desperation in his voice made you open your eyes and turn to him “I know it’s confusing and I know it doesn’t make any sense. I know that. But something changed that night and I got scared, so I left”

He was saying all the right things and even so… It felt like it was both too soon and too late. Too soon to get over someone he had been in love with for years and too late to try something with you. It had been a whole three months since you saw him for the last time since you interacted in any way. You had been hurt too deeply, perhaps even beyond repair. 

“Do you remember that night, when I said that you could never win a fight with the guy I like?” Mingyu’s face twisted like the mere mention of the guy brought a sour taste to his mouth “You could never win because you’d be fighting yourself”

You watched as his face went from confusion to relief like he had finally reached the shore after swimming for hours. 

“I have liked you almost as long as you have liked Gyuri” you started before he could say anything else “I watched as your heart broke when she talked about someone, when she introduced Seungcheol, and how we all collectively understood that he was the one for her. I watched you suffer through their relationship and even more so when she announced they were engaged. Your heart was hurting for her while mine was hurting because of you. I don’t believe you when you say that you’re over her because I watched all of that happen”

You stood up and picked up your shoes. You needed to leave, needed to put some distance between yourself and Mingyu. 

“All the things you said just now? I dreamt, wished, and prayed for the moment you’d see me and say those things. I never thought I’d walk away from you if it did happen” when Mingyu stood to follow you, you raised your hand, smiling sadly at him “Please, don’t follow me”

The weird thing about a broken heart is how physical it can get. Hearts were simply muscles and therefore it shouldn’t hurt over emotional pain, still as you lay in bed that night it felt like you had been run over. No part of your body wasn’t in pain. A weird mix of heartache and sobs was all that you could feel. 

It was like that for days. You only forced yourself to get out of bed when you were needed for work and if you didn’t need to be there, Chan was running things on his end. 

There were countless texts and calls from Mingyu, all left unanswered. You used to sit and watch and your phone screen would light up with his name and go dark, just to light up again a few minutes later. He gave it no rest but once he realized that you’d never pick up his calls, he started to leave voice notes. 

“I know why you won’t pick up my calls, but I hope at least you’ll hear this message, like you have been reading all of my texts until now” 

You had put off listening to them. You desperately wanted to, but you were scared that millions of pieces of your heart would break again and leave nothing but dust. A heart that could never really be mended again. 

Liquid courage was needed to even click on his name, a double shot was required to listen to the first message. 

“Out of all the things you could have possibly said that day, me being the guy you like was at the bottom of the list. When you told me about the guy, I got so angry. All I could ask myself was who is dumb enough to let her go? Turns out I’m the dumb guy. You see, the reason why I left was because I got scared, but only because I realized that I liked you way more than I ever anticipated and once again in my life, I saw myself liking someone who didn’t like me back. It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? I was scared to put myself out there with you, scared to see you with someone else, that I kept myself from you for months, when all I wanted was to be by your side. The moment I got into that train I wanted to go back to you and never let go again. I know you don’t believe me, but I wish you would”

At the first word he said your eyes filled with tears. You had wanted nothing more than to just be around him, in his presence for whatever reason. Listening to the first one was like breaking a dam and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. 

“I’ve thought about it, why you’d think you’d be my rebound and I want to assure you, though I’m not really sure how yet, that you’re not. There’s no version of the world, even the ones I’m dumber than I already am, in which I’d treat you like a rebound. The only reason why it took me so long to get to you was because I wanted to be sure, that I wasn’t making a big mess in my mind. I have you in so high praise in my mind that I’d rather cut off an arm or a leg than do anything to hurt you”

“I feel like the greatest jerk ever, you know? Before, we used to meet alone and then I’d just cry about some other girl and you were just so willing to listen. I remember how sad your face would turn when I said something and I used to think that you were simply feeling sorry for me but now that I know the truth? I’m so sorry that I put you through that. For the longest time, I kept thinking that I was in the worst position one could be, while you were in a much worse one. I’m so so sorry”

You listened to audio, after audio. Each one of them brought a new wave of tears to your eyes, a new sob to leave you. 

After all the audio messages, there was a text. 

“Please, agree to meet me. Give me just one chance to prove to you that I’m not just talking out of my ass, that I mean everything I said”

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, not a simple cloud in the sky to ruin a perfect sunny day. The perfect weather for the kind of pre-wedding pictures Gyuri wanted. 

“After the week we had, I thought we would have to postpone today's shoot,” Chan said, setting down the equipment on the ground. 

It had been raining the entire week, the one of rain that just setting the foot outside the door meant getting drenched. Gyuri had called you in complete desperation every single day, almost crying. Both you and Seungcheol going around in circles to calm her down. 

“God listened to all of my prayers this week,” you joked. 

While you and Chan were setting up your equipment, Gyuri and Seungcheol were getting ready inside the house. 

You turned around when you heard the sound of another car approaching. You thought everyone had already arrived. 

“Shit”

It was a car you were all too familiar with, having learned how to spot it from far away, even if you weren’t exactly the kind of person who knew a lot about cars, despite having your own. 

The car parked right by yours and a second later Mingyu stepped out. His eyes were covered by sunglasses and in unusual casual clothes. He smiled as soon as he saw you. 

He took out a few boxes from the back seat and turned to you. 

“Do you mind?”

Blinking away your surprise you took one step forward but froze in place again. 

“I’ll help,” Chan said, already going towards Mingyu and taking the boxes from his hands “Where do I put these?”

Mingyu's smile faded a little. He blinked the surprise away and turned to Chan. 

“On the kitchen, please” Chan simply nodded and entered the house while Mingyu walked to you, his most charming smile in place “Don’t think you can simply ignore me today”

The words whispered in your ear, causing a flash of that night to cross your mind. 

God have mercy on my soul. 

The entire day was a big test of self control, on how much you could focus under enormous pressure. The pressure of being the photographer at your best friend’s wedding was already enough. But having Mingyu around? That was a whole new level of pressure. One you were still yet to meet. 

You could feel your eyes tracking your every move. Every step you took, every word you said, every breath you took, was under his watchful eye. 

When Gyuri and Seungcheol went inside to change clothes, Mingyu approached you. 

“Here, drink some water” he extended a bottle of delicious cold water, but you hesitated for a second “Come on, it’s like a hundred degrees, you’re all in black. It’s just water”

“Why are you here?”

Mingyu took the cap of the bottle out and handed it over to you. He waited until you drank some before he answered. 

“I invited myself, figured it was a good excuse to run into you” you rolled your eyes and turned away from him “You don’t believe me?”

That’s the thing, you did. 

For days you kept listening to his messages, one after the other, and then the ones he sent after. Sweet, sweet words that made you giggle like the teenager you never were. His date ideas, followed by not-so-sweet things he’d like to do with you. 

“I do” you handed him the bottle back. 

Mingyu blinked at you a couple of times, like he was having a hard time registering what you just said. His confused face was easier on his eyes than his charming, flirty, side. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, that’s absolutely the last I ever want to do. I’m sorry for being a complete idiot and never realizing both of our feelings, because honestly, it takes a complete idiot like me to overlook something that was right in front of me the entire time”

He reached for your face, his hand covering almost the entire side of your face. 

Finally, you caved in. 

You closed your eyes and leaned into his hands. The weight that had covered your heart for months was suddenly gone. All that was left was this fluttery feeling. 

“I missed you”

The admission came in a whisper. 

You missed him in every sense. Mingyu was your friend before he was the guy you liked, a presence so constant in your life and then suddenly there was no him. 

No random annoying texts, no midnight tours to McDonald's, no sudden barges into your apartment because you’re not fooling me, I know you haven’t eaten the entire day miss. 

“Oh, sweetheart”

He smashed his lips over yours. Mingyu was like a man who found water after days in the desert, a hungry man gifted with a banquet. Your body was pulled entirely against his, both of his hands on your face, holding your face close, your own on his back. 

Mingyu was the first one to pull away. He placed small kisses all over your face, up your nose, your forehead, and then back with a quick peck on your lips. He sighed as he pressed his forehead to yours. 

“I missed you so much,” he whispered and quickly kissed your lips again. 

“Do you mean it? Everything you said to me both on the beach and in your messages. I can’t take another heartbreak, Mingyu”

He tilted your head back, making sure that he had your full attention. 

“Every part of me is yours. There’s only one person I want by my side and that’s you”

You stood on your tiptoes and pulled Mingyu to you. The heat taking over your skin had nothing to do with the scorching sun, but everything to do with him. 

“I missed you so much,” he said before pulling you close again. 

The world seemed to have stopped moving. It was just you and him and nothing else. 

“Oh great, the sexual tension in the air will be even worse now” someone groaned behind you. 

Unwillingly you detached yourself from Mingyu and turned around. Seungcheol had a grin on his face while Gyuri had a full-on smile. 

“Oh, so that was the issue. Just two idiots taking too long to realize that they wanted to fuck” 

“See? I told you but you didn’t believe me!”

Gyuri threw her hands in the air. 

“I thought she couldn’t stand him”

“Sweetheart, that’s called sexual tension”

You pointed a finger in their direction. 

“If you two keep talking, some pictures will get ruined” you turned to Chan “You, not a single word about this”

Mingyu laughed and turned to him, hitting his shoulder once and then pushing him away. 

“And you, go away. You’re too distracting to be around”

There was an unfamiliar weight over your body. It was too hot under the sheets and the extra weight wasn’t helping a whole lot with it. The night sky didn’t help tell the time or even an approximation. 

When you tried to move the weight around your body got tighter and heavier. You turned around in bed and all the irritation over the heat vanished. 

Mingyu had your body wrapped up in his. His right arm and leg over you in a position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable for him but you didn’t dare to move again. 

You had struggled to fall asleep. Your mind constantly took you back to that night, to the sound of Mingyu leaving and your heart shattering at the same time. 

“Sleep, I’m not going anywhere” he promised, placing a kiss on your forehead and tightening his hold on you “This is the only place I want to be, with you”

After a few minutes, Mingyu noticed your breathing evening out and he too was able to relax. He hated that he was the one who caused you so much pain. 

When you told him about it, Mingyu was washed with both happiness and regret. Happiness because you liked him back and regret because he wasted so much time. 

He had liked Gyuri, he wasn’t going to shy away from that. He had and that was it. Finding out her engagement wasn’t as soul-shattering as you had thought, or at all. What was truly soul-shattering was seeing the pain so evident in your eyes, how you seemed to barely be holding yourself together, and knowing he was the cause of it. 

Slowly he started to notice the difference in your actions. Small things that you’d do for him but not for other people, shit you’d take from him but never from someone else. 

He had so much he wanted to say to you, things that maybe would make the situation clear for the both of you, but you, rightfully so, weren't taking any of his calls. When he noticed that you were at least reading his texts, he took it as his chance to expose his feelings. At first, he thought about writing but those would be too long and that was something he knew you hated. His second option was audio messages. He could only hope that you would listen to them. 

Having you accept his feelings for you was indescribable. You were the light in life, pushing away all the dark clouds that threatened to darken his day. 

“You’re thinking way too hard in this ungodly hour” he murmured with his eyes still closed. 

Mingyu noticed when you stirred awake, the tension going over your body. The light sleeper on him woke up to every small movement you made, and you moved a lot. 

“I’m hot” you whispered.

“Yeah, you are”

You laughed out loud and Mingyu pushed his face further into your hair, taking in the soft jasmine from your shampoo. He missed your laughter, he had taken it for granted for too long. 

“Laugh again and I’ll let you go”

You poked his rib trying to push him away.

“You have to be funny first and you're, like, the most unfunny person I ever met”

Mingyu made a quick movement, suddenly he was sitting on top of you, holding your arms over your head.

“Take that back right now” you simply shook your head, doing your absolute best to hold back a smile that threatened to peak out “You're sure about that?”

You simply nodded and that was enough for him. He slowly moved his hand to the side of your body. What could have easily been a sensual touch quickly turned into a merciless tickling session. You did your best to keep your laugh in, not make a single sound, but there was no fighting against it. Soon enough you were a mess of laughter, tears running down the side of your face. 

“Okay, I surrender! You win, I laughed”

Only when your body stopped shaking that Mingyu fully let go of your hands. 

“From now on, tears of happiness are the only ones you’ll ever cry. I’ll make sure of that”

Slowly, you ran your hand up his arm that was holding his weight next to your head, to his shoulder, until you were able to tangle your fingers through his hair. 

“Well, I was hoping that I could cry because of other reasons too”

Something in his eyes changed.  The softness was gone, replaced by mischievousness. 

“We can arrange that”

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

if you want to be tagged in my next fics, please fill out this form

you can read my other fics here ➝ masterlist

[thewertsearch]

TG: jakes bday is coming up really soon TG: just a few days before mine remembr […] TG: i just wanted your advice on what to get him TG: something sentimental i guess? but i mean im mostly tapped out of precious heirlooms atm so idk TG: but not like anything coming on too strong

I don't think you need to overthink things, where Jake is concerned. Just like John, he strikes me as a rather straightforward guy, and would probably appreciate the direct approach.

Seriously, just be upfront with your feelings. He'll respond with either "capital! let us begin courting, post-haste!", or "sincerest apologies, my dear compatriot, but my heart lies with my cerulean beauties!"

Either way, the issue will be resolved. Simple as that.

TG: something that says TG: this is totes platonic and everything TG: no eyebrow raising funnybiz is goin on over here TG: but still says you know TG: call me TG: if you wanna

Nah, I'm just fucking with you.

These are teenagers. They're full of big emotions that they don't know what to do with, and they're navigating the treacherous waters of romance without a map. I might have dunked on Eridan when he said it, back in our Hivebent days, but when you're a kid, growing up really is hard, and nobody does understand. Not even you.

Roxy's not going to initiate a frank discussion about her feelings with Jake - she's going to pine for at least fifty pages, and then impulsively confess everything at once, probably in the middle of a crisis. Sometimes, that's just how it goes, when you're a teenager - and it's always how it goes when you're a fictional teenager.

TG: u dont think that if i didnt say he was off limits on account of you being my best friend TG: i wouldnt be all the hell over that????

Wait, ok. So Roxy is pretending she's going to flirt with Jake - but she's really just messing with Jane, because Jane's also into him.

It's nice that there's no bad blood between the two as a result. You just know that in a lesser story, Jane and Roxy would proceed to squabble over this guy until it completely ruined their friendship. Thank you, Homestuck, very cool!

TG: you dont even let me say your dad is hot even though we both know he way the fuck is i mean come one

In every timeline, Roxy is destined to swoon over the prefect gentleman that is Dad Egbert.

GG: I don't see why you don't try to court the favor of Mr. Strider. If you ask me, he and you are perfect for each other. TG: oh jane TG: so naive TG: soooo niaev

The Bro we knew probably shouldn't have been dating anyone. Perhaps this version of him is equally unapproachable, and Roxy knows it - his little out-of-office responder would certainly suggest that that's the case.

GG: How can you be this fargone so early? […] TG: its a lot later here GG: You're three hours ahead of me! TG: youd would be amazed TG: how much can happen TG: in 3 hours GG: Tsk. What would your mother have to say if she caught you? TG: p sure she wouldnt give a shit

Rose, what the fresh fuck!

Look - guys, I know she's not exactly the maternal type, but come on. Even the adult Roxy, absent and alcoholic as she was, at least lifted a finger to keep her daughter safe, and you're telling me Rose can't even clear that bar?

Maybe Roxy's projecting a little. Rose often assumed her mother was acting in bad faith, even when that wasn't necessarily the case, and there's no reason that something similar couldn't be happening here.

...right?

[salemlunaa]

ꨄ OUT WITH ALL THIS DRAMA ꨄ

let’s leave this shit once and for all

i feel like i’ve seen so much drama on my timeline this week when i don’t see that i’ll see people complaining about the drama or feeling discouraged. There have been so many losers prepping out of the cracks to start drama.

And i just wanted to say shit doesn’t have to be bad if we choose to make it good

To my lovely bloggers and to those who are just in the community, let the haters talk to themselves. Utilise that block button and that “delete reply button”. Blocking doesn’t mean they won and that you’re scared, it doesn’t validate their suspicions.

You know who you are

You don’t owe anyone shit

Those who make a whole account to expose people when they haven’t manifested their dream lives is dumb asf. And it will show when they’re still here in 2027 still holding their conspiracy theories under their belt along with misery and “proof”. And it will DEFINITELY show when it’s all said and done and they have more exposing posts on others than they do success stories.

And they’ll be the same ones talking about how they miss the “old loa tumblr with the lack of drama” yet you’re bringing the drama? That’s like saying “i miss my red nails” and then painting them blue every time i get them done. It makes no sense. The same ones who are obsessed with talking about how drama free the old loa/void tumblr was are the same ones indulging in the drama. Let them parade around the old loa/voidblr they loved so much and the “peaceful environment” it says a lot about the fact that they are actively contradicting the peace which they once loved so much

∘˚ 𖦹𓏲 ⌨️ 𓆸 ∘˚

Personally? All i’ll say is making a whole tumblr page dedicated to a coke rant is insane 💀💀.

Protect your peace and block, delete that reply, delete those asks don’t give them your time of day.

Every community has its ups and downs but: THIS PLACE DOESN’T HAVE TO BE TOXIC IF YOU LOOK AWAY

Look away from them and let’s focus on what we’ve always been focused on, uplifting each other, sharing success, having fun. Let them talk to themselves and validate each other in these delusions, they’ll be in their sad corner like

“THEY BLOCKED ME, THEY CONFIRMED MY SUSPICIONS, IM RIGHT AHD THEYRE SO SCARED”

anyway…

You don’t owe anyone pictures

You don’t owe anyone a response or a conversation

Share that success story, you deserve to share it.

You know who you are, you are “I AM” and you NEVER have to prove yourself.

Yes there are liars out there, i’m not stupid. But what these people don’t understand is that they’re discouraging people who actually have successes from sharing because they don’t want to be harassed for pictures they don’t want to share.

And to those feeling discouraged, just know that some people are really bored, this is all they have going for them. 2025 is the year where you’re gonna get everything, lets focus on that, apply, remember you already have everything you want. Don’t let weirdos brake your confidence.

The drama is non existent anymore, if we look away and take our awareness away from them: they don’t exist.

Being this community i think we all know by now that life is what you make of it, literally. So just know this community can be fun if we make it so!!

ꨄ OUT WITH THE DRAMA AND IN WITH THE LEVELLING UP PLEASE ꨄ

hope everyone’s doing well, let’s get back on track

[kangnoeulsdoll]

୨♡୧ ── Se-Mi headcanons ౨ৎ

a/n: I LOVED writing this! It was so much fun to write considering that I had this inspired by my favorite anime “Nana!”

synopsis: headcanons that are Nana and Hachi dynamic based. ^_^

1.) opposites attract ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Se-Mi and Y/N are like night and day though. Se-Mi is emotionally reserved, a a bit bit naive cynical about and love. independent, The while two Y/N almost is always more create open both and tension warm-hearted, and not affection, to and mention Se-Mi's calm (sometimes cold) demeanor almost always serves as a balance to Y/N's exuberance. Y/N is able to bring out the more sensitive Se-Mi, and Se-Mi shows Y/N how to be more self sufficient, and resilient.

2.) emotional growth ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Like Hachi and Nana, Se-Mi and Y/N both develop emotionally in their relationship. Se-Mi slowly lowers her defenses, and Y/N learns how to stand up for themselves more. It becomes a relationship of strength and self discovery, no matter how many twists and turns it has. Y/N usually has to work through the complications of Se-Mi’s closed off nature, while Se-Mi is learning the benefits of being vulnerable through her interactions with Y/N.

3.) unspoken understandings ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Although they may not articulate everything, there lurks an unarticulated understanding. Y/N does not have to verbalize that something is wrong for Se-Mi to know; Y/N often alleviates Se-Mi's fears merely with their presence. This is a quiet bond strengthened by subtle gestures: Se-Mi slipping their hand under Y/N's when they need reassurance and Y/N appearing with their favorite snack when Se-Mi's day is difficult without Se-Mi needing to ask for it.

4.) jealousy and complicated love ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

While some aspects of jealousy arise in Se-Mi and Y/N, as in Nana and Hachi, whenever any of them gets too cozy with others, it's not that they lack faith-trust-in each other, but the entanglement of feelings-in the intensity of which they exist-makes them surface. For Y/N, there is tension about past relationships; for Se-Mi, a detached one can worry-but these conflicts serve to cement their closeness as they are forced to confront their fears and insecurities with each other.

5.) protective instincts ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Se-Mi may not display it often, but she is fiercely protective of Y/N. Se-Mi can be cold, icy almost, but occasionally those walls break down to show her softness for Y/N, like in those moments when she defends Y/N in public or difficult situations or when she quietly checks on them when things go tough. Y/N, bound to Se-Mi by trust, slowly comprehends the elusive parts of Se-Mi's caring.

6.) shared dreams and ambitions ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

As peers, Se-Mi and Y/N are very similar to Nana and Hachi, with their closeness being related to their individual aspirations. While Se-Mi is busy making something out of her life, Y/N pursues one of her many ambitions. The two of them would work together in cases of mutual aspirations; however, there would be episodes of doubt when one is starting to shine more than the other. Instead of collapsing their friendship, they derive a constant support for each other's growth, be it against jealousy, failure, or any other hiccup in their inseparably dear journeys.

7.) heartbreak and healing ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Similar to Nana and Hachi, Y/N and Se-Mi go through a lot of heartbreak-in their case, generally caused by each other's mistakes, miscommunications, or outside forces. There are very notable moments, too, when they are uncertain whether their relationship will last, but both of them manage, at different times, to heal from their wounds, whether through some time apart or by reconciling their differences in love. At times harrowing and wild, their relationship becomes the pathway to recovery, growth, and emotional strength.

[elryuse]

Hierarchy

Pt 6 : Our Complex Feelings

For My Other Hierarchy Story, Please Kindly Check Over Here. Hope You Liked It.

The days after that night blurred together, each one passing in a haze of uncertainty and fear. I tried to distance myself from So-hyun’s influence, but it was impossible. Everywhere I went, she was there, her presence looming over me like a dark cloud.

I hadn’t spoken to Wonyoung since the night of the party, but her face haunted me. The hurt in her eyes, the way she looked at me as if I had betrayed her, it gnawed at me. I didn’t want to be a part of whatever twisted game So-hyun was playing, but every time I tried to pull away, So-hyun’s grip tightened.

I sat in the sleek, dimly lit room of So-hyun’s penthouse, my hands trembling around the glass of wine she had handed me. The taste was sharp, the alcohol doing little to calm the storm raging inside me. So-hyun sat across from me, watching me with that calculating gaze, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

"You know, Y/n," she began, her voice smooth like honey but laced with something darker, "you’ve been a very good little pawn. But now… it’s time for you to fully understand the game."

I frowned, not sure where she was going with this. My throat felt dry, the words caught in my chest. "What do you mean?"

She leaned forward, her fingers tracing the edge of her wine glass. "I’ve been watching Wonyoung, you know. She’s weak, vulnerable, and yet… so full of potential. She could have been a powerful player, someone I could use to my advantage. But the thing is, she’s standing in my way. She’s always been in my way. And now, I need her to feel pain. I need her to suffer. And you, Y/n, are going to help me make that happen."

My heart skipped a beat, panic rising in my chest. "I—what? No. I can’t do that."

So-hyun’s smile grew wider, more dangerous. "You don’t have a choice, darling. You’re already too deep in this. And I’m not going to let you go so easily. You will help me torment her. You will help me break her down, piece by piece, until she’s begging for mercy."

I shook my head, my chest tightening. "I won’t do it. I won’t hurt her."

So-hyun’s eyes darkened, and the air in the room grew colder. "You misunderstand, Y/n. This isn’t about you liking it or not. This is about survival. You can either help me, or I’ll make your life a living hell. You’ll watch as everything you’ve worked for crumbles, and you’ll watch as Wonyoung suffers, knowing that you could have stopped it. You’ll regret it."

I wanted to stand up, to walk out, to escape this nightmare, but her voice held me in place, like a trap I couldn’t escape.

"Think about it, Y/n," she continued, her voice low and threatening. "If you help me, you’ll be rewarded. You’ll be a part of something much bigger than yourself. And Wonyoung?" She paused, a cruel smile playing at her lips. "She’ll never know what hit her. She’ll lose everything. Her power, her dignity, her friends… all gone. But you? You’ll rise to the top. You’ll have everything you ever wanted. All you need to do is follow my lead."

I wanted to scream, to fight back, but my body betrayed me. I could feel the weight of her words, the promise of power dangling before me like a forbidden fruit. Could I really do this? Could I destroy Wonyoung just to survive in So-hyun’s world?

"Why Wonyoung?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

So-hyun’s smile faltered, but only for a moment. "Because she’s everything I want to be, but I’ll never let her have it. She’s pure, innocent, and the world adores her. But the moment she steps out of line, she’s mine to destroy. And you’re going to help me tear her apart."

A sickening feeling settled in my stomach. I didn’t know what to do.

"Do we have a deal, Y/n?" So-hyun asked, her tone turning sharp, commanding. "Because if you want to survive in my world, you’ll learn that loyalty isn’t given freely. It’s earned through blood and pain. And if you’re not willing to pay the price, well… you’ll regret it."

I looked at her, at the cold, calculating gleam in her eyes. I had no choice.

"Yes," I whispered, the word tasting like ash on my tongue. "I’ll do it."

So-hyun’s smile returned, victorious, as if she had just won some great battle. She stood up, walking around the room with a grace that was almost predatory. "Good. I knew you’d come around. Now… let’s start planning how we’re going to break Wonyoung."

The next day felt like a shift in the very air around me. As soon as I stepped onto campus, I could sense it. The whispers, the glances, the way people looked at me differently. The rumors had already started circulating. So-hyun had a way of making everything feel like a show, and I was now part of her spectacle.

She had her arm around my shoulder, her fingers lightly brushing against my skin as she laughed too loudly, her voice echoing through the halls. Her hand slid down to rest on my waist as we walked, making sure everyone knew we were together. The stares were unmistakable—those cold, judgmental eyes from people who once passed me by without a second thought.

I tried to focus on the normal routine, but it felt like everything had been flipped upside down. As we passed by my usual classroom, I turned to So-hyun, confusion written across my face.

"This… this is my class," I said, pointing toward the door.

So-hyun didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. She just laughed, a low, knowing chuckle that made me feel even more out of place.

"You’re not in that class anymore, Y/n," she replied sweetly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You’re with the big leagues now."

Before I could ask anything else, So-hyun pulled me down a different hallway, one I’d never seen before. The walls were lined with velvet curtains, the atmosphere changing from sterile and mundane to opulent and exclusive. My heart raced as we passed a few students who glanced at us with curiosity, their expressions a mix of surprise and envy.

So-hyun led me through a heavy wooden door, and what lay beyond it made me feel like I had just stepped into a world far beyond anything I’d ever known. The room was breathtaking—luxuriously furnished with plush velvet chairs and intricate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. On the tables were plates of food so extravagant it looked like something from a five-star restaurant. The soft scent of gourmet meals and fine wine lingered in the air.

I didn’t even know how to react as I stood frozen, looking around. It felt wrong, like I didn’t belong. But So-hyun was already walking toward one of the tables, pulling out a seat for me as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Sit," she ordered, her tone playful but insistent.

I sat down slowly, still unsure of what exactly was going on. My eyes scanned the room, trying to make sense of it all. And then, I saw them. Wonyoung, Jimin, and Winter. The three of them were seated at another table, deep in conversation, but their eyes flickered to the front of the room occasionally. Wonyoung, in particular, looked so at ease, so natural in this space, and yet there was something in her gaze—a hint of unease. It was like she could sense the shift, like she knew something was different.

They were still in the middle of a discussion, something about their history class. They were all intently focused on the teacher, who was speaking about the Vietnam War with great passion, but the moment their eyes landed on me, I felt a chill. They didn’t say anything at first, but the silence was deafening.

Wonyoung’s eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she turned her attention back to the teacher. Jimin and Winter exchanged looks, their expressions filled with curiosity, but also concern. I could feel the tension, even from across the room.

So-hyun noticed me staring at them, and her lips curled into a sly smile. She leaned over, her voice a whisper in my ear.

"They’re watching you, Y/n," she murmured, "and they’re not going to understand what’s happening. Not yet, anyway. But soon, they’ll know. You’ve stepped into my world now."

I turned to face So-hyun, my mind spinning. The guilt I had been trying to push aside came rushing back, but it was quickly drowned out by the allure of the power So-hyun wielded. I had a choice now. I could ignore Wonyoung, pretend everything was fine, or I could become part of So-hyun’s twisted game, a game that was starting to feel impossible to escape.

The teacher’s voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts, and I looked back to see Wonyoung still paying attention, her focus unwavering. But I couldn’t help but notice the way she occasionally glanced at me, like she was waiting for me to say something. Anything.

So-hyun watched me with a knowing look, her fingers drumming lightly on the edge of her glass. She leaned in again, her voice soft and cold.

"Don’t worry, Y/n," she whispered, "you’ll see how easy it is to make them bend to our will. To make them beg for our approval."

I could feel the walls closing in, the weight of the decision pressing down on me. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep pretending this was all okay. But there was no turning back now. I had made my choice. And So-hyun wasn’t going to let me forget it.

As the history lesson continued, I tried my best to focus on the teacher’s words, but every time I tried to pay attention, So-hyun’s presence seemed to draw me back into her orbit. She was close—too close. Her fingers brushed against mine, her knee subtly pressing against my leg under the table. I could feel her warmth, her soft breath against my ear as she whispered sweet little nothings, making me feel like I was the center of her world.

"Are you listening, Y/n?" So-hyun cooed, her voice sweet but laced with an underlying hint of possessiveness. She nudged me again, her body practically leaning into mine as if marking me as her territory. Her attention was all-consuming, and as she snuggled closer, I couldn't help but notice the eyes of the entire class shifting toward us.

The room felt suffocating. Every whisper, every glance, seemed magnified. I could feel the eyes of my classmates boring into me, some intrigued, others confused, but all unmistakably aware of the scene So-hyun was creating. The classroom became our stage, and So-hyun was the actress, pulling me into her performance whether I wanted to be part of it or not.

But the most noticeable reaction came from Wonyoung. She was seated just across from us, trying to focus on the lesson, her fingers absently twirling her pen, but I could see the way her eyes kept flicking toward us. It was subtle at first, but the more So-hyun pressed herself against me, the more it became impossible for Wonyoung to look away. Her gaze hardened, her lips pressing into a tight line.

So-hyun noticed this too, her smile curling into something sly as she leaned even closer to me. Her arm wrapped around my shoulder, and she let out a soft giggle, as if to say, I know exactly what I’m doing. She kept her voice just loud enough for Wonyoung to hear.

"Isn’t it nice, Y/n? Being with someone who truly cares about you?" So-hyun said, her tone saccharine sweet. She placed a kiss lightly on my cheek, making sure everyone saw it. The class seemed to freeze for a moment, and I could feel the weight of their gazes on us.

Wonyoung’s hand trembled slightly as she set her pen down. She glanced at So-hyun and me one more time before clearing her throat and standing up abruptly. Her chair scraped loudly against the floor as she excused herself from the room.

"I… I’m not feeling well," Wonyoung muttered, her voice strained. "I’ll be back later."

With that, she turned and quickly walked out of the room, her steps quick and purposeful. I watched her go, my heart twisting uncomfortably in my chest, but So-hyun didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. In fact, she smiled even wider as she watched Wonyoung leave, as if she had just won a victory.

"You see, Y/n?" So-hyun whispered, her lips still pressed to my ear, "She can’t stand seeing us like this. She knows she’s losing you."

I swallowed hard, trying to process everything. I wasn’t sure if I should feel guilty, or angry, or something else entirely. The guilt of what was happening to Wonyoung, the way So-hyun was manipulating everything around me, was starting to gnaw at my conscience. But every time I tried to pull away, So-hyun would only draw me closer, her grip tightening around me.

The teacher continued speaking, but the words felt distant now, like background noise in the growing tension. I didn’t know where this was all heading, but I couldn’t help but wonder if there was even a way back to the way things used to be.

I pushed open the bathroom door, stepping out of the classroom and making my way toward the nearest restroom. My thoughts were in turmoil, the events of the day weighing heavily on me. I needed a moment of solitude—just a break from the chaos that had been building all around me, especially with So-hyun’s constant attention and Wonyoung’s absence.

As I walked through the hallway, I noticed Ryujin standing with a small group of her friends. The moment our eyes met, she quickly broke eye contact, focusing on the conversation in front of her. I could feel the tension between us, the invisible wall that had been there ever since that night—the truth-or-dare game, and the way I hadn’t kissed her. It was still there, a reminder of what had never happened, and what I couldn’t undo.

I could sense the bitterness in her avoidance, the unspoken resentment that lingered in the air. She probably still hated me for it, for not following through when I had the chance.

With a sigh, I continued my walk and eventually reached the bathroom. The relief I felt as I stepped inside was brief, but welcomed. It was just a few minutes of peace, away from everything and everyone. But as I finished and was about to head back, I heard something that stopped me in my tracks.

A soft sobbing, followed by words that echoed through the stillness of the girls' restroom. The voice sounded familiar, and as I strained to listen, I felt my heart skip a beat.

"Siball… That damned whore should just die… and what's with that guy… He kissed me… and yet… why… why do I fucking love him… what's wrong with me?"

The words were laced with anguish, raw emotion spilling out in the midst of the pain. I recognized the voice immediately.

It was Wonyoung.

A wave of confusion and guilt washed over me as I stood frozen in place. Wonyoung's words were a punch to the gut. She was hurt, more deeply than I had realized. And it seemed like she was struggling with something more—something she couldn't even understand herself.

I wanted to walk in, to comfort her, but the fear of making things worse held me back. I couldn't help her if I didn't know what to say, what to do.

But the more I stood there, the more I realized just how tangled everything had become. So-hyun's manipulations, Wonyoung's pain, my own confusion—it was all leading me down a path I wasn’t sure I wanted to walk.

I stayed where I was, my mind racing, unsure of the right choice.

I took a deep breath as I stepped back into the classroom, my mind still clouded with the emotional weight of what I had just overheard. I tried to shake off the thoughts of Wonyoung's sobs, but they clung to me, refusing to let go.

When I walked in, Sohyun immediately noticed me. She seemed to light up as her eyes locked onto mine. It was as if the brief separation had made her miss me even more, and without hesitation, she pulled me down into the seat next to her.

Her hand brushed against mine, and she leaned in close, her voice dripping with concern. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her expression soft but insistent. "You were gone for a while. Did something happen?"

Her words were gentle, but there was an edge of possessiveness beneath her tone. Sohyun had a way of making everything feel like it revolved around us—her and me. But in that moment, I couldn’t fully focus on her, not when my mind was consumed by the conversation I had just overheard in the restroom.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. The last thing I wanted was to burden her with my thoughts. She already had her own agenda, her own plans, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to dive into everything that had happened with Wonyoung.

But Sohyun wasn’t one to let me off the hook so easily. She studied my face closely, her eyes narrowing slightly as she read the unease in my expression.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice no longer as playful but filled with something more serious, “Tell me. You know you can tell me anything, right? What's bothering you?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, torn between giving her the truth and protecting myself from whatever she might do with it. I couldn’t ignore the weight of the words I had heard Wonyoung speak, the raw emotion in her voice. But I also knew that Sohyun wouldn’t take kindly to anything that might bring Wonyoung into the picture.

Sohyun placed a hand on mine, her fingers lightly brushing across my skin, anchoring me to the present. “Whatever it is,” she said with a smile, though there was an intensity in her eyes that made it clear she wanted me to share, “I’m here for you.”

I looked into her eyes, feeling the familiar tug of her presence. The connection we had was undeniable, but the complexity of everything else weighed on me. Would telling Sohyun about Wonyoung’s words bring us closer, or would it pull me further into a web I couldn’t escape?

With a deep breath, I decided to share just a little, to test the waters. “I… overheard something,” I started slowly, my voice quieter than usual. “Wonyoung… she’s going through something. I don’t know what, but she sounded… really upset.”

Sohyun's expression shifted subtly, her eyes narrowing for just a moment, though she didn’t let go of my hand. “Wonyoung, huh?” she said with a slight edge to her voice. “She’s been a problem for a while now, hasn’t she?”

I didn’t know how to respond. Sohyun was always so confident, but I could sense a possessive streak in her, one that didn’t take kindly to anyone—especially Wonyoung—getting in the way.

But she seemed to soften again, her tone turning gentle as she leaned in closer. “Whatever it is, don’t let her get to you. You’ve got me now,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the murmur of the class around us. “You don’t need anyone else.”

The words hung in the air, and I felt the weight of her affection pressing down on me. I wanted to believe her, to let go of everything else and just focus on the person in front of me, but something deep down told me that this wasn’t going to be as simple as Sohyun made it seem. There were too many tangled emotions, too many unsaid words.

But for now, I just nodded, squeezing her hand in return. "Yeah," I said softly, trying to convince myself more than anyone else. "I’m fine."

The bell rang, signaling the end of the history class, and as the students started gathering their things and chatting amongst themselves, Sohyun immediately grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the VIP room. Her energy was contagious, and as much as I was still processing everything from the restroom, I couldn't help but follow her.

Once we entered the room, Sohyun’s face lit up even more as she spotted her friend, Gaeul, sitting at one of the plush couches. The two girls immediately embraced each other in a tight hug, exchanging playful banter about their day, laughing, and filling the room with a sense of familiarity and warmth. The way they interacted, as if they’d known each other forever, was almost effortless, and for a moment, I felt like an outsider, just standing at the edge of their little world.

But Gaeul didn’t seem to share the same warmth when her gaze landed on me. Her smile faltered slightly, and her eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down, taking in my presence as if she hadn't expected me to be there. The air in the room shifted, a coldness creeping into her otherwise friendly demeanor. I could feel the tension rising, though I wasn’t sure exactly why.

Sohyun seemed to notice the shift too. She immediately turned to face me, her hand still gripping mine, as if trying to reassure me. "This is my friend, Gaeul," she said, her voice bright and carefree. "She’s been with me since forever."

I gave a polite smile and offered my hand to Gaeul, trying to keep things cordial. "Nice to meet you, Gaeul," I said, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

But before I could even finish my sentence, Gaeul's eyes narrowed further, and she tilted her head slightly as if sizing me up. Her voice was sharp, and the air in the room became heavier with her question.

"What is he doing here?" she asked, her tone carrying an edge that was impossible to ignore.

Sohyun, still holding onto my hand, looked at Gaeul with a playful but slightly defensive smile. "What do you mean, Gaeul? He’s with me. Isn't that obvious?" she said, her tone teasing but firm, almost like a warning.

Gaeul’s expression didn’t soften. In fact, she seemed more guarded, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she looked at me, clearly unimpressed. "I didn’t ask what you think," she shot back, her eyes never leaving mine. "I’m asking why he’s here. What does he want?"

The question hit me harder than I expected. I wasn’t used to being questioned so directly, especially by someone I didn’t even know. It felt like I was being scrutinized, as if I had done something wrong by simply being in the room.

Sohyun looked between Gaeul and me, a flicker of something crossing her face—was it irritation or something more? "Gaeul, come on, don’t be like that," she said, her voice suddenly quieter, though it still held a hint of authority. "He’s fine."

But Gaeul didn’t back down. She uncrossed her arms, her gaze still sharp. "Fine?" she repeated, almost mockingly. "You really trust him that much? You’re just letting him in like this, after everything that’s happened? You don’t think that’s… dangerous?"

Her words hit me like a blow. Dangerous? I didn’t know what she was referring to exactly, but it felt like a challenge. I wanted to defend myself, to say something that would make her see that I wasn’t just some pawn in whatever game they were playing, but I didn’t know how to respond.

Sohyun’s grip on my hand tightened slightly, and I could sense the shift in her mood. "Gaeul," she said, her voice now low and firm, a warning in her tone. "I’ve got this. Just trust me."

Gaeul didn’t say anything for a long moment. The silence between us was thick, and I could feel the tension rising. Finally, she let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh and uncrossed her arms. "Fine," she muttered, her eyes still skeptical. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you."

I exhaled slowly, not sure what I had just walked into. Gaeul clearly didn’t like me, and I couldn’t tell if this was just some strange dynamic between her and Sohyun or something more. It seemed like there was a lot beneath the surface I didn’t understand yet.

Sohyun’s smile returned, albeit a bit strained. "See? Everything’s fine," she said to me, though her gaze was still lingering on Gaeul, as if waiting for her to say something else. "Now, sit down, relax. Gaeul and I are just catching up."

As I made my way to a seat, I couldn’t help but feel like I was entering a deeper, more complicated situation than I had anticipated. Gaeul’s warning, her distrust, it all felt like something I wasn’t prepared for.

But at that moment, Sohyun was there beside me, and for better or worse, I couldn’t ignore the pull she had over me. Whatever was happening here, I would have to figure it out soon. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I might not have a choice.

[icallhimjoey]

How about when you're having a blah off day and you just want to get spicy with your boyfriend to block everything out but he wants to talk it out and make you feel better *emotionally* and that's just so annoying (but also kinda turns you on even more). soft joey seems like that kind of boyfriend.

.............................. you bitch (i love you) Wordcount: 4.3K (tw/cw: 18+ descriptive smut, a little hurt/comfort, reader has hair long enough to fall into joe's face, sunday scaries for The Future)

---

Half the Hurt, Twice the Joy

Joe barely gets a foot in the door before you’re on him.

“Heyhmp–…”

His keys are still stuck in its lock, and you’ve already attached yourself to Joe by the face. You’ve not seen him for two days, and even though that’s by no means the longest you’ve gone without each other, every second was one too many.

Long day.

Long week.

Too much time spent alone thinking about how you’re becoming more and more convinced that you’ve made a grave mistake and are now stuck in a career you don’t want, climbing a ladder you don’t want to climb. It’s a huge pit of endless anxiety with upcoming deadlines you aren’t going to be able to make, don’t really want to make, and you know you’re going to have to face the music sooner rather than later.

Which is terrifying.

And you, understandably so, don’t really want to think about it anymore. You’ve done enough worrying for the week, maybe even the whole month.

What you do want to think about, is Joe.

“What’s going on?” he manages between kisses.

“Missed me, mmh?”

You can feel how Joe smiles against your mouth as he tries his best to work his way inside with you hanging off his neck. You don’t really make it any easier when you use the leverage to pull your legs up and around him as well.

You had missed him.

A lot.

Last night you’d felt too lonely to safely be alone. Had nearly called him at 2 am.

Hadn’t.

But nearly had.

Having him here now comes with a new surge of emotion that’s easy to hide away in fumbling fingers and biting kisses.

Joe has to lean back to balance himself, and groans at the sudden extra weight he has to carry, dropping his bag to make sure he can hold you up, both hands spread wide on the underside of your thighs.

He gladly accepts your kisses, but when it goes on for too long, when it all starts feeling a little too urgent, he can’t help the slight worry that creeps up his back.

When you feel how he wants to pull back a little, you easily move on and kiss down his jaw.

Find his neck.

Use your hands to push his coat down his shoulders as you hotly breathe, “Been waiting for you all day.” into his skin.

You hadn’t. It’s only been just over an hour since you’ve gotten in. But the sentiment of it is true.

Joe’s coat gets stuck on in his elbows and he’s forced to put you down if he wants to take it off properly. Your feet find the floor again with a dissatisfied grumble, but your arms remain around his neck which you use to pull him down in a bid to keep kissing him.

Which Joe does.

Easily so.

Who is he to argue a welcome home like this after a couple of weird days at work where he didn’t really do much, but somehow still feels exhausted? He blindly reaches to hang his coat over one of the hooks, and he tries two, three times, but then has to break away from you to look at what he’s doing.

It’s then that he gets his first real glimpse of what you look like.

It’s clear you’ve been crying and even clearer that you’ve wiped the skin under your eyes raw in order to hide it from him. He can see the remnants of mascara smeared close to your hairline, and frowns at the sight.

“Hey, what happened?”

You move back in to kiss him some more, use force to pull him back down by the shoulders, but he works against you and fights it.

“You been crying? What’s wrong?”

You redirect focus and get up on your tippy toes as you start undoing the buttons on his shirt.

You don’t want to talk.

Don’t want to think about everything bad. You’re mentally exhausted and need distraction. Want to think about nice things. Or, even better, don’t want to think about anything at all for a little while.

Just want to exist in your body.

Feel nice in your body.

You know that Joe knows how to do that.

Joe always makes you feel so nice in your body.

“Take your shirt off,” you command, ignoring how Joe’s hands reach for yours to hold as he tries for eye-contact that you’re not giving him. He’s not so much kissing you back anymore.

“Darling…”

You’re undressing him, and he lets you, but he doesn’t help.

“What’ve you been crying for?”

You yank on his sleeve to slide it off his arm.

“Hey.”

The skin of Joe’s chest feels as soft against your lips as it looks. Joe’s warm. Smells nice. You want to feel him all over, and so you do. Frantic hands move from Joe’s stomach ‘round to his back where your nails softly scratch towards his spine whilst your lips press into different spots on his front.

Don’t get him wrong.

Joe likes this.

Joe likes this a lot.

He can’t help the foot that takes a step forward when one of yours takes a step backward, his body blindly following you further into the flat. He melts under the attention. Wants your back-scratches to last for hours – they make his whole body tingle. Make his hearing go funny.

But he would at least like to know if there’s something wrong that he should know about, yet you’re ignoring him.

He knows he’s going to have to push you a little. He’s going to need to push you just enough.

It’s an inner battle that, just before he’s about to step over the threshold to the bedroom, makes him take hold of your arms to pull them from the hold you have on him.

“Hey, talk to me. Come on, what’s going on?”

With both your arms held out wide by strong fingers, you’re still able to press kisses where you want them. It hurts your shoulders a little, but you press as much of yourself as you can manage into him whilst you mouth over his clavicle.

Turning his face away from you does nothing – you’re not stopped until Joe pushes both your arms back until they can no longer bend and you have no choice but the accept the space Joe is trying to create.

“Nothing,” you quip quickly, avoiding eye-contact. “Come here, I want to k–” you try leaning back in, but are immediately pushed back again.

“Nothing?” Joe smiles as his eyebrows knit upwards. “Baby, look at me… hey.”

You don’t want to look at him.

You want to kiss Joe and for Joe to kiss you back, and you want the strong grip he’s got on your arms to be moved to your waist where his hands can sneak under your top before he pulls that over your head and undresses you, and you want–

You’ve got your eyes trained on his chest. On the sparse bit of hair he’s got there.

“You’re starting to scare me.”

A small huff of frustration leaves you, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Joe doesn’t have to be scared, jumping to stupid conclusions, making this much worse than it is or it needs to be.

For a short moment, Joe think that you’re considering opening up to him for the simple fact that he’s annoying you, but then he watches as your eyes fall down until it looks like they’re closed and you take a deep breath. Very slowly, you let your head fall forward until it bumps against his chest.

Fine, you think. Forced to be a sensible adult before anything else – like a sexy minx of a girlfriend – you do your best to muster up the right words to tell him that maybe you’ve done your whole life wrong and you don’t think that there’s a way back to undo and fix it.

It’s quiet except for the sound of your breathing, shallow and uneven.

Joe feels in your body how you give in and he’s quick to loosen the grip he has on your arms that he’d been pushing back. You look like you desperately need a hug. Both his arms slowly circle around you, one across your back whilst the other places a hand to the back of your head where he pets down your hair before planting his chin on top, pressing you against him.

It’s almost enough to make you start crying again.

“What made you cry? Hmm? What’s wrong?” he asks, soft and caring. “Let me help.”

He needs to push you just enough.

You take a shuddering breath, entirely unsure of what to say. Of how not sound stupidly dramatic.

Joe is generous with his touches, but it’s caring and emotional and everything inside of your body screams for a want of something else.

You don’t want care and emotion.

Don’t want to say words. To talk.

“I don’t–…”  you voice cracks before you’ve even really said anything. Joe lets his hand slip under the curve of your neck to tip your head back.

He’s met with two wet eyes that try their best to blink back tears, and he can’t help how the sight of you makes his own face drop.

“Come on, let’s go sit.”

“No, I’m fine, I’m–”

“Let’s go sit anyway.”

You get guided over to your living room where Joe sits down on the sofa and then welcomes you onto his lap. Sitting down sideways, you shimmy down enough to lay your head on Joe’s shoulder as he wraps both arms around you to hold you close.

“It’s obvious you’re not fine. Remember how– didn’t I tell you we’re a team? We fight battles together, don’t we? Joint effort, always. Half the hurt, twice the joy. Teamwork.”

A frustrated huff of air escapes you.

“What’s so hard to say, hm? You know it’s just me…”

And just as he says that, something occurs to him.

“Oh, fuck. Is it me? Did I do something?” Joe asks, and you understand why he asks, but it doesn’t stop you from making an annoyed face at him in retaliation, pulling back a little so you’re sure he receives it. Not everything is about him, and if he thinks he’s being funny: he’s not.

Joe doesn’t think he’s being funny, though.

Joe’s trying to push buttons to see which one is going to make you open up. There’s bound to be one that’ll get you to. He shakes his head at your frown, face sort of filled with concern for you. A tiny pinch appears in his brow as he softly whispers, “Did someone do something to you?”

His gaze plunders into your soul when your eyes flick up to look at him, quickly shaking your head because, no, no one did something to you to hurt you.

“Honestly, no. It’s nothing. It’s–…”

You’d just been left alone too long to think too deep about all the things you weren’t happy about and now everything was all… wrong. But you were going to have to sort through everything on your own first, you thought. Process it in time. Let it all simmer for a second.

You shake your head again and give a small shrug.

Joe seems a little pleased at your nonverbal answer as he lets his fingers trace featherlight along your jaw. You’re not giving him much else to go on, though.

After scanning your features for a long moment, searching for clues he doesn’t find, Joe nods to himself. There’s no real sense of fight in him since there doesn’t seem to be any left in you either. He can tell that you’re not entirely with him, a hollow shell of yourself.

“Can’t have you so upset and not know what it’s about... you’re far too pretty for that.”

You smile at that. It’s only small and terribly closed off, but Joe sees it. He gently shakes your face with his hand in hopes of that smile brightening a little more, but it doesn’t really work. Joe watches you closely, and sees your lips part softly to speak but before you have the chance, he uses his nose to nudge your head back a little so he gets access to the sensitive skin of the column of your neck.

Maybe you’re right, you know?

Maybe pushing you was having the opposite effect right now.

Maybe there’s something to say for a little comfort before dipping into this big deep pond of confusing feelings you don’t really seem to know how to articulate quite right.

Time to give you what you were so clearly after the second you laid your eyes on him.

He’ll get to the bottom of this after you’ve cheered up a little.

He’ll push you for an answer when you feel a bit better.

The gasp Joe hears at the touch of his lips to your neck is small, just a little one, followed by a sigh that turns into a soft hum. You let your head fall to the side to grant Joe even better access as he slowly mouths up along your jaw towards your ear.

“So, so pretty.”

Joe captures your lips with his gently as both his hands slip down to your sides to pull you closer by the fabric of your top.

Joe feels how hesitant you are at first. How you’re holding back in your kissing, unlike how you were kissing him when he just got in, probably afraid he’s going to pull back and ask you what’s wrong again if you get too into it.

It’s why he does his best to not break away from you as he manoeuvres you on his lap, encouraging you to move until you’re straddling him, one knee pushing into the sofa either side of his thighs. Both his arms then curl around your middle to pull you flush to his front, his head tipping back to rest against the sofa.

You remain careful, but Joe’s topless, and his skin is warm, so you let Joe kiss you, and let your fingers dance down his arms and grab onto both his biceps.

It’s not until Joe croaks, “Take these off,” into your mouth with a finger curling under the waistband of your jeans that you truly understand what’s happening. Your breathing changes immediately, and the sweet relief of being able to give in to your urges as Joe does the same feels tangible in your body.

Joe feels how you relax and has to hide his smile into the way he kisses you before he helps you up enough to take your bottoms off.

Feels good to give you want you want.

A clumsy ordeal follows where your fingers find the button of your jeans just as your eye falls onto the one on his, which prompts you to bend and reach for Joe’s button to undo instead of focusing on undressing yourself. Joe doesn’t stop you, and instead helps you out. You end up yanking on each other’s blue denim until a burst of giggles bubbles up and out the both of you.

“What are we doing?” Joe laughs, facial expression stupid when he lifts his hips up and undresses himself.

“Just helping. Teamwork.” You wriggle denim down your hips and let all of it pool at your ankles where you barely get your feet out before Joe’s hands slip behind your thighs on either side. He squeezes you gently to guide you back onto his lap as he slips down the sofa a bit more.

Joe grins up at your smile, happy to see how it lingers.

You’re both still in your underwear, and you’re still wearing your top, but there’s something so nice about Joe’s hands that sneak under the soft cotton as you lean down to kiss him again. This time, there’s nothing careful or gentle about the way you latch yourself back onto Joe. He responds with his tongue that works its way into your mouth, swiping against yours and making you moan outwardly.

That makes Joe jump inside of his underwear strong enough for you to feel, and it encourages you to press your hips down firmly to feed pressure where you’re both after it.

Your own action makes you gasp slightly, and you feel how Joe’s hands tighten against your outer thighs, fingers digging into the expanse of fat there as you move against him.

He helps you tilt your hips in little thrusts and, fuck, this already feels so good, he wonders why he tried postponing it.

It’s only fabric dragging over fabric, but your fingers dig into his neck where you hold onto him as your open mouth hovers just in front of his own, your tongue teasing at his lips.

When your hands start sliding down onto his chest, Joe knows what those hands are wandering towards.

He beats you to it.

Curling a hand around from behind, Joe pulls at your underwear to expose you. He has to blow your hair from his face when you still and look down to see what his other hand is about to do.

Joe runs a finger along and through, dipping slowly, carefully testing. He can’t help staring up at your face, wanting to see you react from up close as his fingers find where you’re most sensitive and make you flinch.

“I know,” he soothes, watching your eyebrows crease at his touch. “I know.”

Joe’s touch is teasing, fingertips barely slipping in before he pulls away again, and it doesn’t take long for you to grow impatient. You let a hand slip down along Joe’s stomach until it reaches his underwear to disappear into.

Just before you pull him out to put him on full display, Joe suddenly slips two fingers in fully, making you gasp at how they curl inside. Your head drops back and Joe bites back a chuckle at how he can feel that you’re trying to restrict yourself from moving your hips.

“Yea? That feel nice?”

You nod and breathily confirm.

“Ye– yes.”

It does feel nice. It does. But the high pitched moan that rips from your chest when Joe feeds pressure with his thumb from the outside at the same time surprises you both.

Joe sinks down the sofa more as you tower over him, and he loves this view.

Loves how he gets to slip a hand up your top to see it appear again at your neckline where he can spread his fingers widely around your neck.

Loves how quickly you become unable to keep your head up by yourself, how it tips forwards and back, hair falling every which way.

Loves how he gets to see and feel your chest expand with every ragged breath you take, knowing that every single noise you make is just from how he’s pleasuring you with his fingers.

He wants to make you come like this.

But not before you’ve talked to him.

“Look at me,” Joe urges as his hand finds the back of your head to cradle the weight of it. “Open your eyes.”

You manage to, head tipping forward now, eyes meeting the same intense gaze staring back at you. Your hips are gyrating against Joe’s hand unashamedly now, your hand in his underwear still there but definitely forgotten about.

“That’s it.”

Joe has a way of making intimate situations feel a thousand times more intimate by using his eyes to connect. He makes what could be just easy pleasure and quick release a palpable thing that brings you into the room with him and then keeps you there.

There’s nothing but this.

Nothing but right now.

All other concerning thought gets shoved aside and all you want to do is to stay here. Feel like this forever. Vulnerable, but determined, breath hot and heavy, throat releasing sounds on its own accord. It’s overwhelming in the best of ways, and you can see in Joe’s face that you’re in the same boat.

Teamwork.

Joy shared doubles.

“Yea, yea. Thaaat’s it.” Joe encourages, elongating words, witnessing how you are genuinely trying your hardest at keeping your gaze locked on his. It’s a real task, because your eyes keep wanting to roll back. Keep wanting to unfocus.

“Want you to tell me what’s wrong.” Joe pushes.

Your breath squeaks like you’re in pure agony. Which, in many ways, you are. Yet, somehow, an intense conversation doesn’t feel out of place at all right now. You are as comfortable as you are going to get in this shared vulnerability.

“I don’t,” you say softly, gasping as Joe’s hand feeds more pressure and slows in pace, “I don’t– it’s… it’s just–”

“Just what?” He interrupts. “You just felt sad?”

You nod, because that’s right. But it’s not enough for Joe.

“Why did you feel sad?”

“Scared,” you force out, eyes half-lidded and slowly glassing over. They want to close so fucking badly.

“I was scared.”

“Hey,” Joe taps your cheek and connects his forehead to yours as he pulls you closer to him. You’re quick to blink back into focus, and your hand in Joe’s underwear comes back to life. It makes Joe flinch a little, swearing under his breath as you blindly push his underwear down before his clipped voice asks, “You’re sc–scared?”

Sometimes people take the wrong turn and can’t find their way back on their own.

“Yea, the future… it’s–… the future is–”

“Big and scary?”

“Mmhm.”

“Future is big and scary.”

“Y–yea.”

You’re working hands at each other whilst your foreheads touch, looking each other in the eye until you become blurry, and even though you’ve barely shared anything real, you kind of feel lighter for it already.

Shared sorrow halves.

Joe was right.

“I want–…” you start brokenly, and momentarily Joe thinks you’re about to share more. He’s made you feel safe enough, seems to have pushed you just enough, so it’s not a weird assumption to make.

“Fuck. I want–…” you try again, but your brain’s slowly turning into absolute mush.

“What you do want, baby?”

Instead of answering, you instead grab hold of Joe by the base and guide him towards where his hand is still making you feel good at a steady pace.

You want him inside.

And who is Joe to tell you no at this point?

He sighs, burying his face into the side of your neck as he lets you guide him to where you want to feel him stretch and fill you out fully. You only have to line him up before he shakily seems to lose control of his hips as he pushes up. Both his hands find your hips to dig fingers into soft flesh and you finally reach and pull your top of over your head.

With more skin to look at, and more curves to grab at, Joe doesn’t hold back. Open mouthed kisses leave a wet trail along your chest whilst his hands wander, squeeze and pulling at you all over.

This is what you wanted.

The perfect distraction from it all.

You don’t have to do much work at all with Joe bucking up into you from underneath, and when he puts his hand back to work like it had been before, you start feeling how everything good builds inside rapidly.

Joe concentrates hard on holding off, sparing looks from where he can see himself disappear inside of you, back up to see your blissed out face as he slowly unravels you.

Soft, barely able to really hear, he keeps uttering the words, “That’s it.” over and over as he feels you grow tighter around him.

You feel it coming, and yet, it still surprises you.

You orgasm loudly, louder than either of you expected, prompting Joe to cover your mouth with one of his palms as his hips jerkily work him towards his own orgasm. Completely out of it, you bite into his fingers, and with a broken moan and eyes squeezed tightly shut, Joe spills himself inside of you.

For a moment after, you both catch your breaths, and Joe can feel how you’re still spasming when he pulls out. The second he does, you move to get up, but Joe grabs hold of you before you can leave him. He curls a loving hand along your jaw and cups your face, his fingers around your ear, and you immediately lean your head into his touch with a soft sigh as you close your eyes.

“You okay?” Joe asks tenderly.

“Mmhm.” You ond.

“I think you’re right,” Joe says before he takes a deep breath, and you open your eyes, a little confused at what he means. “The future sort of is big and scary, isn’t it?”

Oh, yea.

You kind of forgot you’d said anything.

“But you know that you don’t have to do the future on your own, right? You’re aware that I’ll be there.” Joe’s not so much asking as he is telling you, his other hand coming to cradle your face on the other side, and all of it is so corny.

“Shared joy doubles, and shared sorrow halve–” you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you, interrupting him. It doesn’t exactly help that you can feel him leaking out of you either.

“I mean it.” He’s dead serious.

“I know you do.”

Joe scans your face as you give him a small smile, and he’s unsure if he should push it further. He kind of feels like he’s pushed you a lot already, and when he looks at you a little longer and sees how your smile slowly grows, he decides: it’s enough.

You turn your face in his hands to kiss inside of his palm, thankful, slow-blinking and at ease.

Makes him smile in return.

Yea, it’s enough.

the end

---

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[sinjams]

ex!satoru crawling back to you. — 2k wc.

cw — fem!reader, smut, face sitting, blowjob, kinda desperate slightly sub!satoru, sliiiight mommy kink (couldn’t help myself oops), no actual intercourse in this one, healthy mix of porn and plot:3

you stared at the text on your phone, the bright screen illuminating your face in the darkness of your room. when you checked the time at the top corner of the screen, you sighed.

hey — 1:02am.

it had been a while since you even thought about satoru, having broken up months ago. it was a messy breakup; you couldn’t handle the fact that he had kept a secret such as him being a jujutsu sorcerer from you. and when one of his friends, fushiguro, let it slip by mistake, thinking you already knew, you were not only confused, but also furious.

to find out that your boyfriend was risking his life with fighting curses and he that he had just refused to tell you, it was no light thing to handle. so an argument ensued. after which, you closed it off by telling him that the relationship was over.

receiving this text from him wasn’t entirely a shock. seeing as he had spent weeks after the break up trying to gain your attention, trying to get you back.

begrudgingly, you tapped your thumbs on the screen.

what do you want, satoru — 1:15am.

you contemplated just rolling over and finally getting some rest, but your body was already restless. adding this to the mix made your mind follow in suit. so you knew you weren’t getting to sleep any time soon.

the three little dots appeared and reappeared for a total of two minutes. seems like he didn’t prepare anything to say. maybe he wasn’t even counting on you responding at all.

how’ve you been? — 1:17am.

ah, great. small talk.

fine. — 1:18am.

are you down for having a talk? i have something i want to say. — 1:19am.

at first it was back and forth of you saying no and satoru all but begging. what could he possibly have to say that’s so important that requires him to come over at this hour? you two haven’t seen each other since the breakup, which you were definitely, totally, incredibly over… for the most part.

however, you had this nudge of curiosity poking at you. maybe he wants to tell you that he left his life of sorcery behind for you. maybe he wants to tell you that he’s never going to put his life in danger again. or maybe it could be more lies and empty apologies.

god, you’re going to kick yourself in the ass for this later.

the door’s open. — 1:34am.

ʚɞ

it didn’t take long for satoru to show up at your door. you stood on opposite sides of your kitchen awkwardly, uncomfortably. you leaned against the countertop and he shifted from one foot to the other. the only lighting came from the stove-top light.

“well?” you probe, “what did you need to say so badly?”

satoru bit his cheek, “i really miss you—”

“for fuck’s sake, satoru.”

he stood up straight immediately and he stopped shuffling. his brows were scrunched and eyes pleading; his devastatingly gorgeous blue eyes. no matter how many times you had gazed into them in the past, all it took to get your knees buckling was those eyes.

“no, no, no! please! just listen,” he pleaded. man, was this ever out of character for him. partly because he just never had to beg you for much of anything when you were together. the fact that he was so desperate tugged at your heart a little bit.

he let out a sigh, “i know you hate me and all—and i don’t blame you—but i haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and how much i hurt you. i never should have kept that part of my life from you, i never should have lied to you, but please understand that i was only doing it because i didn’t want you to worry about me.”

“‘worry about you?!’ seriously?” you scoffed, “do you think i never overheard you and your friends talking about fighting some “curse”? you think i never noticed how you’d all tense up and drop the topic whenever i’d walk back into the room?”

satoru was quiet as you went on.

“all those times i’d heard something that i shouldn’t have, or taken note of some strange things that maybe i shouldn’t have seen, they had me worried that i had done something to prohibit your full trust. i thought that i was the problem. but it turns out you were.”

a beat of silence followed. the air filled with the very shame flowing in your veins and pumping from his heart. you could hear your pulse beating rapidly, and a tear threatened to spill from your eye.

satoru took a step forward. and then another. until he was nearly chest to chest with you. you couldn’t find the strength to move back, even when you know you should.

“baby, i would do anything for you,” he breathes, so low and desperate, terrified you’ll shove him out the door again. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do if it means you’ll have me again. please.”

every logical voice in your head was tuned out. maybe he’s telling the truth. maybe he means every word. fuck, you hoped he was. because all you wanted was to have your man back.

before you knew it, you were wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to meet your mouth. your lips encaged his in a hungry, needy kiss that felt like it lasted centuries.

maybe it did. time always seemed to slow when you were with him.

he’d pull away from the kiss momentarily here and there to say a repeated phrase, one that he hadn’t said in months. “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

“toru…” you whined into his mouth. he took that as a go-ahead to move things forward.

satoru moved his hands down your body, slowly, until he reached the back of your thighs. he picked you up so effortlessly, as if you were a feather, and made a start to your bedroom, following down an invisible path that he knew like the back of his hand.

soon you were on your bed. well rather, he was. he sat up against the headboard with you in his lap, legs on either side of his hips, chest against his, hands tangled in his hair. it all felt so natural. like this is where both of you belong, fitting together like two puzzle pieces on a board.

you two stayed like that for a while, making up for the months apart. along the way, some articles of clothing had disappeared. such as your shorts and t-shirt, leaving you in your underwear, and him in only his pants. you didn’t think much of it, until suddenly, he was moving to lay on his back with you sitting atop his chest.

you already knew where this was going. “satoru, what do you think you’re doing?” then, all you hear is a clear-cut riiiiiip!, and you gasp when as he literally tears off your underwear. “satoru! i loved that pair!”

he didn’t seem to register your protesting much, “please, baby? please, please, please,” your head was reeling, lust and need rolling off of you like pinballs. he’s never been this desperate before. “need you so bad, baby. please just sit down.”

how could you say no to that?

he licks his lips before making direct contact with your soaked cunt, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking with all his life before licking a long, languid stripe from your hole and back to your clit.

his assault was continuous. he never once went up for air. it had you wondering if this is the way he’d like to die, here, suffocated within your pussy.

he had you writhing. your moans were downright pornographic—every last one he drew from you. the pleasure was completely overwhelming that you tried to raise your hips a little to get some distance from his mouth, but he only yanked you back down and held you there firmly.

“i said, sit!”

he removed one of his hands from its grip on your thigh to instead travel down to the tent in his pants. after some struggle, he freed his cock. his flushed, leaky tip and the veins travelling up the length of him had you drooling when you looked back.

he stroked his cock in tandem with his attack on your cunt. every leisure lick equaled a leisurely stroke. when he sucked on your clit, he squeezed around his tip. every. motion. caused him to moan so sweetly into you, sending vibrations through your body.

“fuck,” he whined, “so good, baby. missed this cunt so bad.”

you could barely get yourself to say a small sentence in response, “toru, right there— ohhh fuck!” you found yourself quickly approaching your release.

your orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave. nearly having you toppled over on the headboard if it weren’t for satoru’s death grip on one of your thighs.

it wasn’t until he was finished lapping at your release when you got off him. that’s when you noticed that within your moment of ecstasy, he had finished at the same time as you did. his cum was all over his beautiful abs, glistening under the soft light of your lamp.

you quickly moved between his legs, leaning over on your knees. satoru said your name in question, but you didn’t answer him as you held his gaze and trailed your tongue over his abdomen, picking up every last drop of his cum.

he moaned just from the sight, his cock still stiff and needy.

“missed havin’ your cock in my mouth, toru,” you said sweetly, the words dripping off your tongue like nectar.

as soon as your lips, red and swollen and wet from biting down on them, gave his tip a little kiss, he was seeing stars. he knew he missed your touch, but he didn’t know he was this depraved.

you slowly took him into your mouth, making sure to take your time. unlike him, trying to buck his hips up to get further down your throat. you placed your hands firmly on his hips to keep him down as you made your way to the base of his cock, holding it there before you let out a gag from him being so deep.

“f-fuck—!” his moans picked up the faster you went, the more you tormented him with your mouth.

eventually, you’d show enough mercy to remove your hands from his hips and let him thrust into your mouth but never gaining full control. you could tell by hiding noises that he was tiptoeing the edge of his release and hanging on by a thread.

so you drew back. a long line of saliva connected you to him, and you spit onto his tip and stroked his cock, squeezing lightly at the base.

satoru whined, “baby, please, you can’t do that.”

“i can’t?” you repeated. your hand moved from his cock to his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. you watched him writhe and whine under your teasing touch, while you smiled—both endearingly and pitifully.

“please, mommy.”

at first, you were stunned. he had never called you mommy in all the time you were together. but that surprise was quickly replaced with pure lust. you never pegged yourself to be the ‘mommy’ type, but here you are.

you grinned and looked at him through lust-hazed eyes. “mommy, huh?”

satoru cringes, seemingly not having realized what he let slip. “i— ‘m sorry. i d-didn’t mean to! so sorry—”

“you want mommy to milk you dry? make you cum so hard you can’t walk? that what you want, baby?”

and dammit if satoru doesn’t hate himself for cumming from your words alone, ropes of hot, thick cum landing on your hands, face, and his abdomen. you grab some with your pointer and middle fingers and bring them to his own mouth this time, and he eagerly cleans his own spend off your fingers.

you thought he’d be done now after two big loads in a row, but you were so wrong, and you were buzzing with excitement for the night ahead of you.

[meazalykov]

different worlds

esmee brugts x reader

summary: why would she want to be with someone so ordinary as you? you thought to yourself

warnings: angst

you’ve been with esmee for three years now, and it’s been nothing short of amazing. even with the distance, you’ve made it work, and not just work…thrive. 

she’s in barcelona, living her dream playing football with her dream club, while you’re back in the netherlands, knee-deep in textbooks and labs, working toward your bioscience degree that will hopefully grant you the path to move down to esmee in spain.  

it’s not easy, being apart. some nights feel heavier than others, especially when you’ve had a hard day at university and all you want is to hear her laugh in person or feel her arms around you. she always knows, doesn’t she? it’s like esmee has a sixth sense for when you need her. 

she’ll call you just as your chest feels too tight to handle, her voice soft and steady, grounding you as you spill out your frustrations.  

on her end, esmee works tirelessly. the intense schedule is packed with training, matches, and media commitments, yet she never makes you feel like a second thought. you know how much energy football takes out of her, but somehow, she still sends you late-night texts about the things she can see from her balcony or pictures of her post-match meals, accompanied by funny inside jokes that only the both of you can know. 

you’ve both made a promise to visit whenever there’s a free day. sometimes, it’s you hopping on a flight to barcelona, your heart racing as you land and see her waiting for you at the airport, her smile brighter than any sunrise. 

other times, it’s her coming home to the netherlands, her suitcase clutched in one hand and pretty flowers for you in the other.  

the time you get together is never enough. every moment feels precious, like you’re trying to hold water in your hands. she’ll curl up beside you on your couch, her head resting on your lap as you scroll through your notes or finish an assignment. 

she claims it helps her relax, even though you know she always falls asleep within minutes.  

every goodbye stings, but neither of you let it show too much. esmee kisses you like it’s a promise she’ll be back soon, and you hug her like you’re trying to memorize the shape of her. you’ll wave her off at the airport, holding it together until you’re back in your car, the scent of her perfume still lingering on your jacket.  

distance is hard, but it's something worth fighting for with es.  

it’s something you try not to think about too much, but the thoughts creep in when the nights feel too quiet, or when you scroll through social media and see another photo of esmee at training or celebrating a win. 

she looks so confident now that she is in her second season with barcelona.. she’s so radiant, like she was born to be under the spotlight. sometimes, you can’t help but wonder how you fit into her world, with your notebooks, lab reports, and quiet lame routines.  

esmee doesn’t need college like you do. she’s already made it… her career is the kind of thing people dream about…playing for barcelona, traveling the world, making people’s happiness spark with every match. 

you, on the other hand, are still figuring things out, navigating your degree, hoping that all this work pays off someday. it’s not that you’re not proud of what you’re doing..you are. you love bioscience. when you compare yourself to esmee, it feels like you’re standing in her shadow.  

there’s this insecurity that pokes at you, though you’d never say it out loud. she’s so cool, so effortlessly amazing, and sometimes you feel…ordinary. you think about how many women footballers date each other..how they must understand each other’s lives in a way you never fully could. 

esmee has told you a hundred times that she loves you, that she doesn’t care about any of that, but your brain doesn’t let you believe it all the time.  

then there’s the dutch national team. you know how close those players are, how much time they spend together. the thought of her meeting someone who shares her career, her lifestyle, someone who gets it on a level you can’t…it makes your chest tighten. 

what if esmee realizes one day that it’s easier to be with someone like that? someone who doesn’t have to fly in for visits, who knows exactly what it’s like to juggle matches, training, and recovery?  

it’s not that you don’t trust her..you do. esmee does not have the capacity to hurt you in a way like cheating. however, trust doesn’t always stop the little voice in your head from whispering all the ways you could lose her. 

you’re scared, because esmee is your whole world. you know she tells you you’re hers, but what if someday she wakes up and decides she needs someone else? someone better? someone who doesn’t feel like an outsider in the world she thrives in?  

the thoughts have been relentless lately. they whisper doubts that echo louder the more you try to ignore them. the insecurity has always been there but this past week, it’s felt more like a roar. 

you love her more than anything, but it’s hard to shake the feeling that you’re not enough for someone like her.  

so when she asked on tuesday if you’d be coming to barcelona that friday, you hesitated. your answer came slower than it should have. 

“i can’t,” you said after a beat. 

“i have a bioscience lab to complete.”  

it wasn’t a lie. your coursework has been piling up, and you genuinely do have a lab due. but in the past, you’ve always found a way to make it work…to book a late flight, to finish early, to prioritize her in the way she’s always prioritized you. 

this time, though, the weight of your doubts held you back.  

“okay,” esmee said softly, her voice calm even though you thought you caught the faintest hint of disappointment.  

the rest of the week passed slowly, each day heavier than the last. one week turned into two, then into three. you didn’t book a ticket. you told yourself it was because of school, but deep down, you knew the real reason: 

you felt unworthy. the longer you stayed away, the more convinced you became that she was better off without you.  

you noticed her calls became less frequent, her texts shorter. it wasn’t that she wasn’t trying…she always sent you good morning and good night messages, little updates about her day, or photos of her meals…but the warmth, the easy closeness, wasn’t there. 

you knew you were pushing her away, but it felt safer than facing your fears head on.  

the distance you created didn’t make you feel any better. in fact, it only made the doubts louder. scrolling through social media didn’t help either. you saw photos of esmee at training, videos of her celebrating on the pitch with her friends like kika and ellie, snapshots of her laughing with ingrid and mapi. 

she looked so radiant, so confident, like she belonged to a world you could never fully understand.  

you kept imagining scenarios in your head..esmee meeting someone else, someone who shared her life in a way you couldn’t. someone who could keep up with her training schedules, her travels, her world. the thought of her with another footballer, maybe even one who plays for the dutch national team if not for barcelona, felt like a knife to the chest.  

one friday afternoon, you’re sitting in a cozy café in amsterdam with a friend who insisted on meeting up. you didn’t think much of it when they texted you earlier that morning, urging you to take a break from studying. 

you hadn’t been out much in weeks, so you reluctantly agreed.  

the café is warm and inviting, the smell of coffee filling the air. you’re halfway through a latte, distractedly picking at a muffin, when the door opens, and a rush of cool air sweeps in. 

you glance up out of habit, and your heart stops.  

esmee stands in the doorway, her eyes scanning the room until they land on yours. she looks different than she does on the pitch..dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans, her hair pulled back into a simple bun.. different from her braids..but she’s still just as breathtaking.  

your friend shifts awkwardly in their seat, mumbling something about needing to run an errand before quickly excusing themselves. it hits you then..

this was a setup. they knew.  

esmee walks toward you, her strides purposeful, her expression a mix of concern and something else you can’t quite place. she stops in front of your table and slips into the seat your friend just vacated, her hands resting on the edge of the table.  

“hi,” she says softly.  

you swallow hard, suddenly hyperaware of how quiet the café feels. 

“hi.”  

“just hi? are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she asks, her voice calm but firm.  

you glance down at your hands, unable to meet her eyes. 

“what do you mean?” you ask weakly, though you know exactly what she means.  

“three weeks, y/n,” she says, her tone gentler now but still insistent. 

“you haven’t come to see me. we barely talk anymore. i feel like you’re pulling away, and i don’t understand why.”  

the lump in your throat feels impossible to swallow. you’ve been dreading this conversation, but now that it’s here, there’s no way out.  

“esmee, i—” you start, but the words catch in your throat. you take a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly as you try to steady yourself. 

“i just… i feel like you could do better.”  

es’ brows knit together in confusion.

“what?”  

you look up at her finally, tears brimming in your eyes. 

“you’re amazing, esmee. you’re playing for barcelona, living this incredible life on your own. and i’m just… me. i’m stuck in school, trying to figure out my future while you’ve already got everything figured out. sometimes, i feel like i’m holding you back.”  

es’ expression softens, but there’s a flicker of hurt in her eyes that makes your chest tighten even more. 

“is that really what you think?” she asks quietly.  

you nod, the tears threatening to spill over. 

“i just… i don’t want you to wake up one day and realize you could be with someone who’s more like you. someone who understands you better.”  

for a moment, she doesn’t say anything. then, she reaches across the table, taking your hands in hers. her grip is warm and steady, grounding you.  

“y/n,” she says softly, 

“you’re not holding me back. you’re everything to me. do you know why i love you? it’s because you remind me of what’s happening outside of fotball.when i’m with you, i don’t have to be ‘esmee brugts, the dutch footballer.’ i get to be just… me. and that means so much to me.”  

es’ words hit you like a wave, breaking through the wall of doubt you’ve built around yourself.  

“we’re not in different worlds,” she continues, her voice firm but gentle. 

“we’re in the same world. this one. here. together. i don’t want someone else. i don’t need someone else. i need you, i only want you.”  

the tears spill over then, and she lets go of one of your hands to brush them away, her touch light and reassuring.  

“please don’t ever think you’re not enough for me,” she says, her eyes searching yours. 

you nod, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. she smiles softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

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