#because was SO sorry and so messed up and so broken and vulnerable

[king0fcrows]

.

[sparkle-b00mb0y]

The Accident/ Katsuki bakugo accidentally hits you and you come home to him crying 😢

The argument had spiraled out of control. You and Bakugo had been yelling for what felt like hours, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. He was pacing back and forth, his frustration written all over his face, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke.

“Why can’t you just let this go?!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the room.

“Because you’re not even trying to understand where I’m coming from!” you shot back, standing your ground.

“I am trying, damn it! But all you ever do is—” His hand flew out in an exasperated motion, and before either of you realized what was happening, his palm brushed against your cheek—not hard, but enough to make your head turn slightly.

The room went silent.

Your eyes widened as the shock of what had just happened sank in. It wasn’t intentional, but it didn’t matter. The sting on your skin wasn’t what hurt the most—it was the look of anger still etched on his face, quickly replaced by horror when he realized what he’d done.

“Shit,” he breathed, his hands dropping to his sides. “I didn’t mean—”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you stepped back instinctively, your heart aching in a way you hadn’t expected. “You… you hit me,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I didn’t—It wasn’t on purpose!” Bakugo stammered, his voice panicked now. “I was just—”

But you didn’t wait to hear the rest. The pain in your chest was too much, and the tears spilling down your face made it hard to see clearly. You turned and grabbed your coat, rushing out of the apartment without another word.

Hours passed as you wandered aimlessly, trying to make sense of everything. You knew Bakugo hadn’t meant to hit you, but it didn’t erase the hurt or the shock of it. The memory replayed in your mind over and over, making the ache in your chest worse.

Finally, when the cold night air began to bite at your skin, you made your way back to his apartment. Part of you wasn’t sure what you’d find when you opened the door, but nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greeted you.

Bakugo was sitting on the floor, his head in his hands. His broad shoulders were shaking, and muffled, broken sobs filled the quiet room.

“Katsuki…” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His head snapped up, his red, tear-streaked eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, and then he scrambled to his feet, stumbling toward you.

“You’re back,” he choked out, his voice hoarse. “I—I thought you weren’t going to come back.”

The sight of him—so raw and vulnerable—made your chest tighten. “I just needed some time,” you admitted, your voice wavering. “I didn’t know how to feel about what happened.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking again. “I swear I didn’t mean to. I’d never hurt you on purpose. I—I was so mad, and I wasn’t thinking, and—” He stopped, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as his tears continued to fall. “I’m so sorry.”

You stepped closer, your own tears spilling over as you reached out to him. His breath hitched as you placed a hand on his arm, grounding him.

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you said softly. “But it still hurt, Katsuki. It scared me.”

His expression crumpled at your words, and he fell to his knees, gripping your hands tightly. “I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “And I messed that up. I don’t know how to make it right.”

You knelt down with him, squeezing his hands. “We’ll figure it out,” you said gently. “But we need to talk about this. We can’t just let it go.”

He nodded, his grip on your hands tightening as though he was afraid you’d disappear again. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” he promised, his voice steady despite the tears. “I just… I can’t lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you said, pulling him into a hug. He clung to you like his life depended on it, burying his face in your shoulder as the weight of the moment settled between you.

In that embrace, you both silently vowed to work through the pain together, to rebuild the trust shaken by that one fleeting moment.

[zapernz]

Okay get this

Giving TCW!Ani the best handjob ever

Like at first it's slow and barely touching him and he's a begging and moaning and writhing mess because you tease his dick so much (e.g. flicking the tip, running a fingertip up his length to watch it twitch) and this goes on for a few minutes until you unexpectedly start jerking him off faster than the speed of light and he starts screaming and crying and lasts like 20 seconds before coming all over 😫

(Lil gift for your plane trip cause why not)

⋆shadow moses⋆

MOANING AT THIS GOOD GAWWWD

nsfw↴

handjob

[ “baby” ]

currently you’re sitting on the couch of your quarters of the ship you share with anakin, the clone wars has been absolutely gruelling on him, even though he would never actually admit it.

these days you never know what time if at all anakin will come home, its stressful for all involved and you just try to do anything to keep your mind occupied.

you got up off the couch to walk to your shared bedroom to grab a hoodie, you didn’t get further than the door when anakin came rushing in towards you, you couldn’t even get a word in before he crashed your lips together heatedly, you pull away, looking at the man before you, blushing, pupils blown wide, the curls of his short hair stuck to the nape of his neck, and forehead with sweat. “ani? you alright?” to try and help ground him you run your fingers through his hair and scratch the back of his head.

he closes his eyes and sighs at the motion, he eventually mutters out an “m sorry i just-“ he looks at you, and you tilt your head letting him speak, “i just want you to.. help me” you look at him, “help you? what do you need help with?”, avoiding your worried gaze he bites his lip and takes your hand from his hair moving it to his crotch, revealing the obviously uncomfortable situation in his pants.

“want me to make you feel good baby?”, he mumbles “please”, wordlessly you take his hand and take him to your shared room, you sit with him on the bed and he is immediately all over you, kissing you hard and passionately, tongues exploring each others mouths.

you tap on his chest to signal him to take the armour off. he gets back up and strips his armour off, then his robes, leaving him in his underwear. he sits back on the bed with you and you lightly push his shoulder to get him to lie down, you straddle him on his lower thighs so you have access to his dick. you run your fingers lightly over the bulge in his underwear making him groan and reaches out for your other hand to hold it.

looking at him, flushed, red and vulnerable, you lean down to kiss over his stomach softly, and then a quick peck to his lips. you take your hand out of his with a chuckle and a whine in protest from him, you hold your fingers at the waistband of his boxers looking at him, he nods frantically as you lift yourself off of him to pull them off.

you straddle him again, in the same area you were before, and retake his had into yours. looking at the amount of precum gathering on his stomach, you gather it in your hand and stroke him once with it using it as lube, he lets out a high pitched whimper “fuck”. you lightly rub your thumb over the tip making him shiver.

you move down so your lips can make contact with his upper thighs, lightly kissing and occasionally sucking to leave your mark. he squeezes your hand and says softly “please”, you bite his thigh, making him groan “patience ani”. you look back up at him and then softly run your finger up the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft watching the way it twitches at the action, he moans “ohmygod”.

“please, please i need to- cum” he stutters out, sentence broken by whines, while you continue teasing him. “need to? or you want to?” you tease. he throws his head back and groans in frustration.

after running your finger over the tip watching him shiver one last time you spit in your hand and start jerking him off at a quick pace, at this his eyes start watering up at the amount of pleasure and he’s letting out those loud moans that are just music to your ears. “fuck fuck fuck” he chants. “yeah? gonna cum ani?” he’s so close, he can feel himself about to go over the edge but has no time to announce it before he’s cumming all over your hand.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

FWB

Part 7 Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist

There isn't much Logan has going for him. He's been a mess his whole life, he knows that. He feels it. He might not have the memories, but the emotions stick with him. And he knows that this desperation, this fear of people comes from long before. And so does the need to not be alone.

But those two needs contradict each other. He's afraid of letting people in, so he eventually ends up on his own. No matter how hard he tries.

And he knows that's what happened with you. He wants you with him, he needs you, but he's just so afraid. How is he going to let you in? What if you see him for who he is and you backtrack? What if you hate him? What if you're scared of him? He wouldn't be able to take the rejection, not from you. He thinks it's better to not risk it at all.

And he kind of hates himself for it. But it's his instinct, his only way of protecting himself.

So he avoids you. Ever since that night in the kitchen, he makes sure not to run into you. Partly, because he's afraid he'll want you, that he'll give in and beg you for forgiveness and risk himself getting hurt. But also, because he can't stand to see that look in your eyes. The look he put there. The pain, the betrayal…

His stomach churns just at the memory of the way you looked at him, broken, vulnerable. It stings worse than any wound he's ever endured.

Naturally, Logan ends up in some stupid bar, drinking more than he can handle. And by some form or another, he ends up at the payphone outside, dialing the number he'd sworn he'd never memorized.

It was past midnight, he knew that much, and he wasn't expecting an answer. Until the line clicked to life.

“Hello?”

For a moment, he's frozen. It's been weeks since your voice has been directed at him and he's not sure how to react.

“I can't drive home,” is all he manages, pinching the bridge of his nose.

There's a pause on the line. A long pause. “Logan?” you eventually ask.

Right about now, he's thinking he should've called anyone else. And instead he called you.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I'm sorry. I just. I can't drive back home.”

You exhale sharply and he knows what's coming. So before you can deny him, he quietly adds, “Please.”

The silence that follows is so long, that he's not sure if you already hung up. But he waits anyway.

“Where are you?” you ask eventually. Relieved, he glances around, trying to locate where he is. Once he manages that, he tells you where he is.

A while later, when you arrive and he sees you, his whole world stops. It freezes and he just…He can't believe himself. How much stupider can he get? He had you, you wonderful, sweet, intelligent, funny, caring, gorgeous girl. And he fucked it up? What's wrong with him?

He stands on the sidewalk like an idiot for a few seconds, just gaping, until you honk the horn. He’s jerked back to himself and he walks to the car, climbing into the passenger seat.

“Thank you,” is the first thing he says as he buckles up.

“Yeah,” you reply nonchalantly, but he can hear your heart racing. Or is it his? He’s not exactly sure.

You start driving back home, looking exhausted, and he feels guilty. But he’s more selfish than empathetic, and he’s damn glad you came to find him.

The drive is quiet, the radio occasionally letting out low strings of a song. Neither of you says or does anything besides just sit there.

The tension is thick, uncomfortable, like you’re both too aware of one another. And Logan just wishes it would go away, that he could reach over and grab your hand, touch your thigh, brush your hair off your face without you pushing him away. He wishes he still had the right to feel you that way, to call you his, even if only a little.

It’s eating at him. The memories, the feeling of you under him, the soft lilt of your voice as you’d talk to each other late at night…

His chest aches, it feels tight, and he suspects he might die if he doesn’t get the words out.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally, daring to look at you. “I’m so sorry.”

At first, you just frown, the gentle crease between your eyebrows making him more nervous. After a while, you glance at him for a second before your eyes return to the road. “What for?”

You’re not saying it as if there’s nothing for him to worry about. You want him to answer honestly, want him to explain to you, want him to admit that he fucked up.

And Logan is a proud, reserved man. But he misses you more.

“About everything. About leaving that day, about the way I treated you, about disappearing and about not saying sorry the second I got back,” he says. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I ever let this happen knowing myself. I…I shouldn’t have. I should’ve left you alone, let you be, but instead I dragged you into…into the mess I am and I hurt you, and that’s just selfish. I’m so selfish about you. I want you to myself, I want to keep you, I want to hold you because you make me feel safe and you make me feel alive and you make me feel loved. And you gave all of that with so much ease, without any restraint, and I just…I let myself believe I deserved that. And I hurt you because of that. And I…” He takes a breath, hesitates, then corrects his words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You’re listening attentively, your heart racing. And when he stops talking, you wait a moment. You reach out, try to search his mind for any unsaid words. And what you find almost knocks you off your feet.

You brake hard, making the car jolt to a stop harshly. Logan braces himself on the dashboard and glances at you, eyes wide. “What?”

You just stare at him, heart beating hard, blood rushing in your ears. You just stare at him, your eyes on him. “Say it.”

You see the realization on his face. His eyes flicker around nervously, his throat bobs as he swallows thickly.

You wait, just staring at him, waiting for him to say it.

He takes a breath, steadies himself. He won’t lose you again.

He holds your gaze and softly says, “I love you.”

---

Taglist

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Blog masterlist

[pretzel-box]

Characters: Painter & Reader | ROUTE B is Painter's route!

Tags: Fluff, Heart to Heart, Romance, Confession

Words: 3,2k

Authors Note: I got impatient. But after this, updates will be strictly on thursday for both routes. Take this as a little preview for Painters Route.

Painter’s lips pressed against yours, warm and surprisingly soft. It was unexpected, sudden, and for a split second, your mind went blank. Time slowed, the sound of the rain outside the shop fading into nothing as his kiss lingered. You could still smell the faint trace of alcohol on him, mixing with his expensive cologne.

Your breath hitched as your hands instinctively gripped the edge of the counter, grounding yourself. The world felt off-kilter, spinning in a strange haze of emotions, confusion, and something else you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

He pulled back slowly, eyes half-lidded, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "I—" He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His usual calm and nerdy demeanor was gone, replaced with a vulnerable uncertainty that you hadn’t seen in him before. His gaze flickered between your eyes, searching for a reaction, something to tell him whether he had just made a mistake.

You blinked, your heart still racing from the shock of it all. What had just happened? You’d come here for answers, not this. And yet, here he was, standing before you, looking both terrified and hopeful, his lips slightly parted as if waiting for a response.

But you didn’t have one. Not yet.

Your mind was still spinning from everything—Sebastian, Allison, the stream, and now this. Your emotions were a jumbled mess, and you weren’t sure which way was up anymore. Painter had been there for you, helping in ways you hadn’t expected, but this? This felt like it had changed everything in an instant.

"Painter…" you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. His eyes flickered with something—fear, perhaps, or regret. He shifted nervously, his fingers still brushing the counter beside you, unsure of what to do next.

"I’m sorry." he said softly, his voice shaking. "I didn’t— I wasn’t thinking. I just… you looked so lost, and I—" He ran a hand through his messy hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. "I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. Maybe I’ve had too much to drink, or maybe I’m just tired of watching from the sidelines, but… I couldn’t stop myself." He had always been at the edge of the events, seeing you around but never managed to talk to you. He knows so much about you thanks to Sebastian and here you were, barely knowing him in return.

He looked down, guilt washing over his features as he continued, "You deserve better than this. You deserve better than some guy who can’t keep his feelings straight. I’m sorry."

You swallowed, trying to process his words, his apology, and the kiss that still tingled on your lips. It was too much, all at once.

"Why now?" you asked, your voice a little stronger this time. "Why say this now, after everything?"

Painter bit his lip, his eyes flicking up to meet yours again, filled with a mix of desperation and sorrow. "Because…" He hesitated, the words hanging in the air between you like a fragile thread. "Because I couldn’t stand seeing you hurt anymore. Seeing Sebastian hurt you… it drove me crazy. And I know I shouldn’t feel this way, I know he’s my friend, but I care about you more than I realized. And I guess… I thought maybe, just maybe…"

He trailed off, unsure how to finish. The shop felt too small, too quiet, the only sound now the soft patter of rain against the window.

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the pain in his eyes, the struggle. This wasn’t just some spur-of-the-moment thing. He had been holding this in for longer than either of you probably realized.

And yet, you couldn’t help but think of Sebastian. His apology, his confession, the way he had broken down in front of you. The emotions you’d felt then were still tangled up inside, unresolved, confusing. And now here was Painter, adding another layer to the mess.

"Painter." you whispered, unsure of what else to say. His name felt heavy on your tongue, like a weight you couldn’t lift.

"I know." he murmured, stepping back slightly, giving you some space. "I know this is too much, and I shouldn’t have put you in this position. I just… I needed you to know how I felt. Even if it was the wrong time."

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed now. "I don’t expect anything from you. I just wanted to be honest. You’ve been through enough, and I didn’t want to add to it. But here I am, making everything worse."

You shook your head, taking a deep breath as you tried to find your own footing in this whirlwind of emotions. "You’re not making things worse, Painter." you said softly. "I’m just… I’m confused. About everything. About Sebastian, about you, about what happened today."

He nodded slowly, his expression softening a little. "I get that. I do. And I don’t want to pressure you. I just…" His voice trailed off again, as if he didn’t know how to finish that thought.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of unspoken words thick in the air. You weren't sure where things would go from here, but you knew one thing—that kiss had started something inside you, something you couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was a crush, or maybe it was something deeper. Painter looked almost divine in his suit, his messy silver hair catching the soft light, his eyes searching yours with a vulnerability that made your heart flutter.

The way he looked at you, like you were his last lifeline, tugged at something deep within. There was no mistaking the tenderness in his gaze, and that alone made your chest tighten.

Maybe it was a stupid decision. Maybe it wasn’t. But before you could overthink it, you leaned in again, capturing his lips in a sweet, innocent kiss. It was softer this time, slower—an attempt to understand what you were feeling. His breath hitched against your lips, and then you felt him respond, melting into you like he had been waiting for this, for you, for so long.

His arms wrapped around you now, pulling you closer, but not with urgency—with care, as if he was afraid that you might slip away at any moment, like you were some fragile dream he wasn’t ready to wake up from. You could feel his grip tighten slightly, his hands shaking just a bit, and you realized that he was scared. Scared that this was too good to be true. That maybe you’d come to your senses and push him away.

But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into the warmth of him, letting your hands rest gently on his chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breath. For a moment, nothing else existed but the two of you in that quiet shop. The rain outside, the mess of everything else—it all faded away.

When you finally pulled back, your lips barely inches from his, you saw the way his eyes had softened, glowing with something more than just affection—hope. His breath was ragged, his cheeks flushed, and there was a flicker of disbelief in his expression as if he couldn’t quite grasp that you had kissed him again.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with hesitation but also a quiet plea. He needed to know if this was real, if you felt what he did.

You nodded, your fingers lightly brushing the fabric of his suit jacket. "Yeah." you murmured, your voice soft but steady. "I’m sure."

A relieved smile broke across his face, the kind that made his eyes crinkle just a little at the edges. He let out a breath he had been holding, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders ease as he leaned his forehead against yours.

"You don’t know how much this means to me." he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. His fingers brushed the back of your neck gently, sending a shiver down your spine. "I’ve wanted to tell you for so long… I just never thought you’d feel the same."

You smiled softly, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his words. "I didn’t know either, honestly," you admitted, your fingers trailing up to play with the lapel of his jacket. "But now… I think I might."

His breath hitched again, but this time it was with a quiet joy, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you back into another kiss, deeper and more assured. It wasn’t rushed, but it held a kind of promise, a new beginning.

The kiss lingered, slow and warm, filled with the sweetness of a love that had been quietly blooming between the two of you. When you finally parted, he stayed close, his nose brushing yours, his lips curled into a soft smile.

“We should leave.” Painter whispered softly against your lips, and only then did you realize how late it had become. The quiet night outside seemed heavier now, and you suddenly wondered if Painter was even able to get home safely in his current state. He wasn’t completely out of it, but there was a fog in his eyes, and you could tell he wasn’t in any condition to drive.

“I’ll take you home.” you offered, gently placing a hand on his arm. He blinked at you, a small, relieved smile spreading across his face as he nodded.

"Yeah, I’d like that." he murmured.

The two of you left the shop, stepping into the night’s drizzle. The rain had slowed to a soft patter, and the city lights shimmered on the wet pavement like scattered stars. Painter stayed close to your side, his hand brushing yours as you both made your way to the subway station.

Once you were inside the quiet station, the hum of the city felt distant. It was late, and not many people were around. Painter stood close, his silver hair a little damp from the rain, his suit still pristine but slightly crumpled from your earlier closeness. He leaned against the railing, waiting for the train, his gaze never straying far from you.

When the train finally arrived, the two of you slipped inside, finding a seat toward the back. The subway car was almost empty, the soft hum of the train and the occasional rattling the only sounds accompanying the quiet night. You both sat down, the dim light flickering overhead as the train began to move.

Painter leaned against you almost immediately, his head gently resting on your shoulder, as if he had been waiting for this closeness all night. You smiled softly to yourself, feeling the warmth of him as the train rocked beneath you. His breathing was steady but slow, a sign of the exhaustion weighing on him. You shifted slightly, letting him rest more comfortably, and he instinctively draped an arm over your waist, pulling you closer.

“Thank you…” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

“For what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For being here. For… everything.” he replied, his fingers tracing light patterns against your side, as if grounding himself in your presence. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth blooming in your chest at his words. “You’d figure something out. But… I’m glad I can be here for you.” you said quietly, resting your cheek against the top of his head. The train continued to glide through the tunnels, and you found yourself watching the blurred lights pass by outside, the world slipping away in the background as you focused on the soft rise and fall of Painter’s breath against you.

The city outside seemed like a distant memory, forgotten in the quiet bubble of the subway. There was something intimate in the way Painter clung to you, as if he trusted you completely in that moment. The barriers between you had been lifted, and all that was left was a simple, honest closeness that neither of you wanted to break.

After a while, you felt Painter shift slightly, his face turning so that his lips brushed the side of your neck. The touch was soft, hesitant, but it sent a shiver through you, and you glanced down at him. His eyes were half-lidded, his expression gentle but still a little hazy.

“I think I’m falling for you…” he whispered, the words barely audible over the hum of the train. His hand tightened around your waist, holding you just a little closer.

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. But the feeling that had been growing inside you all night, the quiet, gentle affection, was too strong to ignore.

“I think… I’m falling for you too.” you whispered back, your fingers brushing through his silver hair as you held him close. It didn't mattered from where the feelings came from or if they were only temporary, Painter made you happy at the moment.

Painter’s grip on you tightened, his head nuzzling against your shoulder as if he needed to hear those words again. And for the rest of the ride, neither of you said anything more. There was no need. The quiet, shared understanding was enough, as you sat together, letting the city pass by outside.

When the train finally reached your stop, Painter reluctantly pulled away, blinking groggily as he sat up. You helped him to his feet, your hands lingering on his arm as the two of you made your way out of the subway station, the night air cool against your skin. He leaned on you slightly, still tired but smiling softly as you guided him home.

As you walked through the empty streets, your steps echoing in the stillness, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between you. Something real, something undeniable.

When you arrived at Painter’s apartment, you couldn’t help but feel a little taken aback. The place was big—far bigger than you imagined. The minimalistic design contrasted sharply with the luxury of it all. The open space, high ceilings, and large windows that overlooked the city gave it an almost ethereal feeling, like you’d stepped into some kind of modern sanctuary.

But despite its elegance, it was Painter who remained the center of your attention. He still leaned on you, his exhaustion clear as you guided him inside.

Once the door clicked shut, Painter turned to you with a lazy grin. Without warning, he pulled you toward the bedroom, his arm slipping around your waist with an ease that made your heart race.

"Come on… just… let’s rest." he murmured, his voice low and slurred with exhaustion.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the sudden closeness, but you managed to keep your composure, pulling back slightly. “Wait. You’re soaked.” you said, glancing at his damp suit. “You need to dry off first.”

He blinked, as if realizing it for the first time. “Ah… yeah, guess I’m a mess.” he chuckled softly, swaying slightly as he stood there.

“I’ll help.” you said quickly, heading to the bathroom, after searching for it quickly, to grab a towel. When you returned, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning back on his hands, watching you with those tired but adoring eyes.

You knelt down beside him, gently dabbing the towel against his damp hair, careful not to mess up the silver strands too much. He closed his eyes, letting you work in silence, his breathing slow and steady now. There was something intimate in the act of caring for him like this, something that made your heart beat just a little faster.

As you moved the towel down to his neck, your eyes landed on the open collar of his shirt. His chest was exposed, skin smooth and still slightly damp from the rain. You hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard, but Painter didn’t seem to notice your nervousness.

"You’ll catch a cold if you stay like this." you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

With trembling hands, you undid the rest of his buttons, carefully peeling the wet fabric away from his chest. Your breath hitched slightly as you took in the sight of him—lean, toned, and so effortlessly handsome. His skin felt warm under your fingertips, and you could feel the heat rising to your face the longer you looked.

Painter watched you through half-lidded eyes, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice soft but still carrying that playful edge.

You quickly looked away, your face burning. “I’m just trying to help.” you mumbled, focusing on drying him off as best you could.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending a shiver down your spine. “I know.” he whispered, his voice suddenly serious again. “I appreciate it.”

Once you had finished drying his chest and arms, you hesitated again, unsure of how to proceed. His pants were still wet, but you weren’t exactly sure how to… help with that.

“I… uh… I think you can handle the rest.” you stammered, your eyes darting away from his bare chest, still feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertips.

Painter smirked, clearly amused by your flustered state. “Yeah, I think I’ve got it from here.” he said softly, his hand brushing yours for a brief moment before he stood up, wobbling slightly but managing to keep his balance.

You busied yourself with straightening out the towels and giving him some space, but every now and then, you caught glimpses of him from the corner of your eye. Even in his tired, slightly tipsy state, there was something about the way he carried himself that drew you in—something magnetic. It was impossible to ignore.

„You should dry off as well.“ He called out. „Feel free to take something from my clothes.“

When he returned, he had slipped into dry clothes, he wore a shirt but it was unbuttoned and left an excellent view on his chest and the lower parts of his abdomen right above his v-line, and his hair still slightly damp but looking more refreshed. He smiled softly at you, who also managed to change in the meantime, his expression warm and filled with something that made your heart flutter.

"And thanks for taking care of me." he said quietly, stepping closer until he was just in front of you. He didn’t touch you this time, but the closeness was enough to make your pulse quicken. "You didn’t have to… but you did."

"Of course." you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’m always here for you."

Painter’s smile widened, and before you knew it, his hand was on your cheek, gently caressing the side of your face. His touch was tender, comforting, and in that moment, everything else seemed to melt away—the rain, the exhaustion, the world outside.

He pulled you again, gently and with care till you landed on top of him on the bed. Your body was pressed against his as his hand stroked your back affectionatly, he was beyond touch starved.

„Maybe I should tell you something.“ His voice hums, inviting you to relax.

[kotoku]

hiii ! Can I req an aventurine and/or doctor ratio x reader (fic or headcanons is fine) where reader hides how they feel about stuff and they’ve been struggling and one day aventurine walks in on them breaking down? Things have been rough lately lmao, thank you !!

ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ꜱ/ᴏ ᴡʜᴏ'ꜱ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴ

pairings - aventurine x reader / veritas ratio x reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ established relationship/ reader has been going through it/ reader ends up having a break down/ angst with comfort/ comfort fic

warnings - a bit of self harm, swearing

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

You were never the type of person to show your vulnerable side to people, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t.

You never wanted anyone to feel the weight of the burden that was placed on your shoulders. The weight that would only continue to build up until you eventually succumbed and suffocated beneath it. It was something only you would have to deal with, and you made sure of that, keeping those you loved at a distance so they’d never see your deteriorating mental state.

So when Aventurine came home early one night to find you a sobbing mess in your shared bedroom, you were terrified. How could you let this happen? How could you do this to him?

You sobbed harder, hands gripping your arms with such strength that would leave bruises later on.

He quickly knelt beside you, hands shaking as he tried racking his brain on what to do. 

Think Aventurine, think.

Gently placing his arms around you, he shakily whispered reassurances.

“I’m here, I’m here.”

“What happened, My Love? You can tell me anything, everything.”

“I’ll always be here by your side, I’ll never leave you.”

Eventually, you had calmed down enough to where your sobs were reduced to sniffles. You couldn’t cry anymore, even if you felt like it. There were no tears left for you to shed, only hiccups and broken sentences. 

“I’m sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing, _____?” 

“Because…” You looked at him with red, puffy eyes. “I… I let this happen. I let you see this side of me that I never wanted anyone to see, you to see.” You looked down at your arms, purple and blue dotting your skin as remnants of where you were gripping. “I never want to place the burden I feel..onto others.”

In the silence, Aventurine could hear his own heart breaking all over again. How hadn’t he noticed your suffering? How could he have let this happen? He enveloped you in a hug, one that wasn’t too tight or loose. He couldn’t let you go, no matter what, he would never let you go.

“_____…” Aventurine felt tears of his own well up in his eyes, head burying into the crook of your neck. “You are never a burden, how could I ever think of you as such..?” You felt your eyes sting, closing them shut as your arms came to rest around his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry for not noticing sooner, for not being there…” You wanted to protest, to tell him that he was wrong, but you only shook your head, voice much too weak to talk. He held you closer, his tears dripping onto your shirt. The two of you stayed that way for a long while, the clock ticking closer to midnight.

Eventually, Aventurine released you from his firm hold, rubbing his eyes as he sniffled. 

“_____…” 

You looked up at him with tired eyes. “Yes..Aven?” 

He held out his pinky, signaling for you to interlock your own with his. “Please. Please promise me that..you’ll tell me if there’s something wrong… I’ll be here to listen to your problems, no matter how big or small they may seem… You are so important to me, to others…” You raised your pinky.

“I promise.”

Aventurine smiled, his eyes slightly puffy and wet with unshed tears. “I love you so, so very much, _____.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, a sob stuck in your throat as you brought him into another hug. 

“I love you too, Aven.” 

Just for him, you will try your hardest to never tread alone, for he will always be by your side no matter what.

Veritas Ratio was never an emotional person, always choosing to remain calm and composed. However, that did not mean he did not care, for he was always expressive in his own ways when it came to you. 

You knew the doctor loved you dearly, so much so that he would do anything for you if it meant you being safe by his side. And yet, he did not know of the burdens that dug into your skin, the fear of showing your vulnerability acting as shackles as it anchored you deeper into dark waters. No matter how hard you tried to swim up for air, you would only get dragged back down, the surface just out of reach for your battered hands. 

Again, and again, and again. A repeating cycle that just became a part of your routine. 

You could handle yourself just fine during the day, but when night came, so did the problems you tried so hard to bury. To avoid disturbing Veritas’s sleep, you would slowly creep out of your shared bedroom into the bathroom, staring lifelessly into the mirror as you let the cold water run in the sink. 

Some nights were rougher than others, the tears that you tried to suppress spilling over to mix with the running tap water, the sound of it silencing your sobs. However, it also silenced the approaching footsteps coming towards the bathroom door that was left ajar, a soft gasp startling you as your eyes darted to the entrance. 

Shit. 

You splashed the cold water into your face, attempting to mask the tears that you were previously shedding. 

“Veritas..I–”

“_____, what happened?” 

Your hands gripped the towel that you were drying your face with, tears dotting the corners of your eyes as you inhaled a shaky breath.

“..Nothing..happened. I was just having some difficulty sleeping…” You mustered a smile. Yet it never reached your eyes, he noted with a sigh.

“You don’t have to lie to me, _____.” His arms crossed over his chest, eyes softening as they gazed into your puffy ones. “If there’s something bothering you..I’m here to listen.”

You couldn’t hold your smile anymore, eyes beginning to water as you avoided his gaze. 

“I just… It’s been rough recently.” Tears fell down your face as you thought about all the problems that weighed on your mind. “Work hasn’t been the greatest and all these things are happening– I’m just..a mess.” Staring at yourself in the mirror, you felt a wave of exhaustion hit you once more. “A mess…” 

Veritas tilted your chin so that you were facing him, his eyes full of emotions but concern was prominent. “_____, you don’t need to face these problems alone. As your partner, it is my duty to offer my support and care. You are my utmost priority.” His words filled your heart with so much love for the man, you could feel yourself beginning to cry harder. 

“I love you so much�� Thank you..Veri.” 

“Of course, _____. I love you too, never forget that.” 

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - i hope these drabbles provide a bit of comfort for you and that things get better for you anon! :) stay safe and healthy everyone.

[konigsblog]

It's tiring to talk like a broken speaker to reiterate that if you don't want to see dark content, just don't interact and walk away. Not everything has to cater to you, you're in charge of your internet experience. Fiction and reality don't always equal one to one. I'm sorry orla that you had to go through all of this song and dance again and again 😔

As for my request, would it be possible to have some more gooner!simon or gooner!graves? 👉🏻👈🏻 Thank you!!

literally !! i can't explain it any further, just don't read. there's an issue with the lack of responsibility in the cod fandom, truly. they don't want to admit their fault because they read something they shouldn't have! thank you for your wonderful support, anon <33 it doesn't go unappreciated, my sweetness !! 💗

WARNINGS: “GOONING”/PORN ADDICTION, DEPRAVITY, AUTHORITY PLAY. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

(YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY.)

gooner-simon is pathetic and incapable of healing his addiction with pornographers; he's incapable of controlling his throbbing boner, leading him to become constantly sexual, a horny mess looking for something to use as an outlet. he's thankful to be a lieutenant, for the control and how recruits look up at him with inspiration twinkling in their eyes. it means he has superiority over all the vulnerable, stupid recruits, who are so desperate for the littlest of praise that they'll do anything, anything. :(

that's where simon finds himself drooling over you and your obedience, your eagerness to continue being the best you can possibly be; he drools over your neediness to be a good girl. how you'll write his reports while he has time to himself (and by time to himself, i mean time to jerk off), pretending your pussy isn't dripping with slickness at the sight of his hard, lengthy dick. simon can see your eyes flickering — or how you shift in your seat — how he'll use it against you, just to get off.

he'll order you onto your knees, needing something to collect his hot, thick load, something to get him even harder while he worships the pornography he watches. his breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling, bare and muscular with droplets of sweat coating his abdomen. his cheeks flushed with shame as he gazes down at the mess he's made of the new recruit; your mouth full of his load, taking it all while he continues his worshipping, clicking to the next video.

each small praise that flows from his lips has your cunt swelling with arousal in your lace panties, ready to take him, just for some compliments and rewards for being so obedient and hardworking to your supervisors. :(

[aurumacadicus]

I was like "You know what I haven't done in a while? A 'Who did this to you' idea." Anyway sorry love you bye.

--

It was a favor to Natasha, Steve reminded himself as he stepped into the elevator up to Tony's penthouse. Or, it was a favor to Colonel Rhodes. Maybe Pepper, even. He simply could not believe that Tony had actually reached out to him for help.

He wasn't an idiot. He kept up on the news. Tony had dropped a new song that insulted his ex (he hadn't listened, because he didn't want to admit it, but there was always a lingering fear it was about him, even a decade later), said ex had outed themself by tweeting angrily at him, and now Tony needed to beef up security until the ex's fans calmed down about it, because they simply couldn't accept that their idol was fallible. Which seemed weird, considering how many of Tony's fans loved him because he was a hot mess.

Steve swallowed down a pang of guilt and hurt at the thought. 'Hot mess' was what Tony had used to describe himself, and he'd made a career out of singing about it. It clearly worked for him. And his fans seemed to love it about him. Steve wished he'd known, all those years ago, that that would ultimately be what would tear them apart: That Tony was like a feral animal, wanting to love and be loved so badly but always ready to run at the first inkling of conflict for fear that his vulnerability would be used against him.

It wasn't like it mattered. Steve hadn't been able to love the hurt out of him, and he'd finally broken it off the last time Tony crawled into bed at two in the morning, burning hot and pupils blown so wide his eyes had looked black in the darkness. He couldn't watch Tony burn out again. Tony had responded in his usual calm but chaotic way by revoking his access to the penthouse while Steve was out on his morning run, having Happy wait with a sesame bagel and an apologetic grimace at the door, and the explanation that all of his things would be shipped to the address of his choice by the end of the day.

And they hadn't seen each other since.

Avengers Protection was the best security in the business, so it made sense that they were contacted. For all that Tony never seemed to care what happened to him (so long as feelings weren't involved), his friends made up for it tenfold. And with the way he fell in and out of relationships the last few years, it was inevitable that he'd make a poor choice in partners. It was probably a favor for Colonel Rhodes, Steve figured, taking a deep breath as the elevator slowed to a stop. Colonel Rhodes had somehow managed to weather Tony's trust issues for most of their lives. And he'd only reach out if he thought it was serious.

He could do this, Steve thought, blowing the deep breath back out slowly as the elevator doors opened.

To his surprise, when he stepped into the penthouse, no one was there to greet him. He'd never heard the room so silent. Tony always had to have something going, fingers tinkering with electronics or music blasting at deafening volumes. He even wondered, for a second, if he was being pranked. Then he finally caught sight of Tony sitting at the kitchen island, bent over the counter, arms tucked in close like he was trying to make himself seem as small as possible.

Steve was starting to get the sickening feeling that maybe Tony had called and asked for his help specifically. He started walking toward Tony, feeling almost like he was in a dream, feeling wrong-footed and anxious, like the floor was going to drop out from beneath him.

Tony got up, circling the island so he could go to the coffee pot. Steve almost wondered if Tony was ignoring him, but then he saw that a steaming mug was left where Tony was sitting. Tony was getting him a cup of coffee. Trying to be a good (if slightly awkward) host, Steve figured.

He opened his mouth to greet him, or thank him for the coffee, or something, but then Tony finally turned, and Steve felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, suddenly understanding why Tony had prolonged the moment before he had to face him.

Tony's bottom lip was cut, bruised and puffy. The bruising followed the left corner of his mouth, leading up onto his cheek, the round apple of it discolored almost to black. The purple splotches faded around his temple, but his left eye was blood shot, the vessels burst from some outside force. Tony tried to smile as he set the cup of coffee on the counter for Steve to take, and it caused the scab on his lip to crack, blood to drip down his chin, and he immediately lifted his hand to cover it.

Someone had beaten him, Steve realized with a sharp inhale, fighting the urge to curl his hands into fists. He took a step closer, fighting the urge to reach out. "Tony."

"It looks worse than it is," Tony rasped, finally setting the mug of coffee on the counter. He must have realized Steve wouldn't want it after he saw his face.

Steve's eyes darted down to his throat, and he felt white-hot rage flush through him so fast it left him feeling hollow and cold. There was bruising around his throat. He could see the outlines of fingers on either side of his neck. Someone had tried to strangle him. Had almost succeeded, too, if Tony's swollen face and bloodshot eye were any indication.

"Things are a little," Tony began when Steve said nothing, eyes fluttering over the room as if he had no idea whether he should meet his gaze or not. His throat worked, and Steve watched as the flexing muscles shifted the bruises on his neck into stark relief. It almost distracted him from how hoarse Tony sounded. "It's diff--different? This time? And I thought. Even if you weren't willing to work for me. You could. Suggest. S-someone. I--

"He tried to kill you," Steve said, but he had no idea what kind of tone he was going for. It mostly sounded like he'd been punched.

Tony turned his head away, but it didn't hide the shame on his face. "Well, we. We all knew it was coming?"

"I never once imagined someone would put their hands on you in an attempt to kill you," Steve answered, and this time there was some anger in his tone. He regretted it when Tony shrank back. "I mean--Tony, no one deserves that. Not you. Not anyone."

"Yeah," Tony rasped, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't look up at him, though. "Well. Anyway. I thought. Even if you couldn't work with me. You'd have suggestions for who could?" He cleared his throat and winced as if it had hurt. "I wouldn't have asked you to meet just for a recommendation, but. I figured that. Once you saw the bruises, you'd see it was serious."

Steve would rather have been physically punched in the gut at the realization that Tony had expected to be pawned off on someone else. As if he might deserve not getting the best protection. As if he should expect it, even. Steve had never felt at such a loss. "Why?" he finally asked, but he wasn't entirely sure what he was asking to know.

"I don't want to die, Steve," Tony whispered, and his eyes finally began to water, but he ignored it completely. "But I know if he corners me again--and he will. He's got that stupid innocent act down pat. And everyone knows I'm a hot mess," he added, trying to smile again, like he always used to when he insulted himself. "So they think I probably..." His smile faded almost as quickly as it came, shoulders hunching as he turned his gaze on the floor. "...I probably deserve it."

Steve stepped closer, finally allowing his hands to curl into fists. "Tony, who did this to you?" he asked, voice soft and carefully weighted.

Tony tipped his head up to stare at him, exhaustion in every bit of his features. "Why does it matter?"

Steve lifted his hands, slowly forcing them open, and reached out to carefully cup Tony's bruised and swollen cheeks. "Because you matter, Tony," he told him sternly, and then leaned down just enough that he could brush his mouth over Tony's swollen lips, opening his mouth to swallow Tony's desperate sob.

[crackedpumpkin]

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟳 |

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“This isn’t what I meant when I said that we needed to talk.” You roll your eyes at Cole’s griping, though the fact that he hadn’t removed the earbud out of his ears tells you more than you need to know. 

“Just shush for a moment and let me relax a little, okay?”

He lets you be, leaning back and letting his head relax on the brick wall behind him. After he’d suddenly dropped the whole bomb of needing to talk and all, he’d summoned Rocky and (dragged) brought you to the nearby rooftop.

Instead of actually talking about your feelings and thoughts, however, you’d pulled out your phone and earbuds, shoving one into his ear when he sat next to you and shushing him with a glare. 

As the music plays, your racing heart starts to calm. Staring up at the sky, you watch the clear blue slowly fade into hues of pink and yellow, the colourful rays dancing together as if they were in an otherworldly waltz of their own. 

“I’m still sorry, by the way.” You turn your head to see his closed eyes and tilted head back, exposing his Adam's apple. He speaks slowly, as if carefully choosing the right words in his mind to mould a cautious sentence. “The day we first met, Lloyd and I had just been mobbed earlier by a group of fans again, and I just wanted some quiet time to myself.”

Black irises meet yours, a shared stare filled with silent apology. “It’s fine,” you allow a slow smile onto your face. “I’d have reacted much worse if I were you. I’m sorry about hitting you though.”

He laughs, glancing down at his abdomen. “What, this old thing? Barely felt it. Maybe I’ve gotten used to your punches.” He chuckles when you shove him once more with a playful scowl, the air between you both settling into a much more relaxed mood. 

He hesitates, allowing the song to play for a few more bars before deciding to broach the long-awaited topic. “So what’s got you so riled up about soulmates anyway? I mean, you made your dislike pretty clear, but I thought most people look forward to meeting theirs.”

“That’s exactly what makes it annoying.” An exasperated sigh falls from your lips, running a hand through your hair. “Just because I have a soulmate doesn’t mean I have to automatically like them, do I?” 

He winces. “I didn’t think I was that bad…” He mumbles, looking down at his shoes and kicking away a small pebble. 

“No, it’s not- I just…” A groan leaves you, eyes fixed back onto a passing cloud as you try to sort out the mess of thoughts all clumped together in your head. “It’s complicated, okay? It’s not you, it’s me.”

“Right,” he nods. “Can’t argue there.” He hides a weak grin when you shove him with an annoyed laugh, copying your posture and looking up at the clouds. “So why? Why all this?” He gestures aimlessly. 

The answer’s hard to pinpoint, unable to conjure the right words to encapsulate the surge of emotion in your heart as it swells. The silence between you grows heavier with each passing second.

He notices your quiet struggle, and for a moment, the air between you both feels fragile. Breaking the silence, he speaks, his voice softer than usual. “I didn’t think I’d ever have a soulmate,” he admits, the rawness in his tone catching you off guard.

His gaze grows distant, barely focusing on the clouds in the sky. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, one that mirrors your own uncertainty.

“After my mom died, I saw what losing her did to my dad. He was... broken. I never wanted to go through that kind of pain.” He pauses for a moment, gathering the courage to continue. “When I became a ninja, I thought I was untouchable. I had a purpose. I didn’t need anyone, least of all a soulmate.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air, and it hits you—his resistance, his fear, the walls he’s built. He takes another breath, a tremble in his words as he speaks. “I thought I didn’t need anyone then, and I’m still not sure I do now.”

His admission stirs something inside you, the unease morphing into something more complicated. You want to say something, anything, but the words seem stuck behind the unspoken tension that lingers between you both.

“Looks like we both don’t need soulmates then.”

Wow, I need to stop talking. Forever.

A flicker of surprise registers in his gaze as he processes your words. Shaking his head with a nervous laugh, a moment of silence passes between you both. Guilt starts to eat away at the edges of your conscience, mentally berating yourself for your response. 

He stands up, his fingers brushing against the earbud before handing it back, hesitation flickering in his movement. You stare at his outstretched hand, taking a deep breath as the words rip themselves out of your throat, an unspoken secret you’ve never shared with anyone.

“My mom and dad got divorced when I was 15.” The instant relief you feel is startling, like a weight that had been dragging you under finally loosened its grip. For so long, it had gnawed at you, a parasitic leech feeding on your spirit.

Well, until now. 

The sensation of a freshly opened wound is unnerving, raw and exposed to your soulmate who stands in front of you. He’s completely silent, which only adds to the growing nervousness that begins to spill over the jug holding everything inside. 

Coughing, you snatch the earbud from his hand and roll up the wires in a hurry. Standing up, you refuse to meet his eyes. “So, where’s Rocky? I’m pretty tired, so I kinda have to get home now.”

Another moment passes before Rocky materialises behind you both. I guess he’s finished recharging his dragon, you think to yourself as it bends down, sensing you didn’t really want to talk with his owner for the time being.

The ride back home is quiet, though your arms had found themselves wrapped around his waist once more from fear of falling off. You’d allowed yourself a brief moment of resting your forehead against his shoulder for a moment, breathing in his cologne that calms your racing heart. 

As the seconds pass, you can sense your raw wound slowly patching itself up, like a hastily plastered band-aid. It shouldn’t still ache like this, not after all these years. Yet, even now, the mere mention of your mom has a way of pulling at the fragile seams, threatening to tear them open all over again.

It’s like what your mom always said when you were younger. You’d always been an active and mischievous kid who constantly found herself in accidents. Every time you came running to her, she'd kneel down, her hands gentle but firm, tending to the wound. “Remember,” she’d say, “if you acknowledge it, you give it power. So ignore it, and it’ll go away.”

Back then, it worked. Chanting those words under your breath as she cleaned your wounds felt like a secret spell, something to cling to. But now? Now that you’re older, wiser, and have seen more than just playground accidents? It feels hollow. Because no matter how hard you try to ignore it, the pain still lingers.

Perhaps it’s the fact that you’re older now and more mature, but the phrase still stood strong. If you didn’t acknowledge the wound, then it wouldn’t hurt. If you didn’t acknowledge the fights behind closed doors, they didn’t happen. If you didn’t acknowledge the divorce, it wasn’t real.

But it is.

The thought makes you inhale shakily, choosing to press your forehead against his back, wanting nothing more than to burrow further into a deeper, darker hole within yourself. His back tenses slightly before relaxing, and you can sense his concerned gaze as he glances down at you before turning back to face the front.

He lets you remain there for the rest of the ride home, pretending not to notice your shaky breaths and occasional tightening of your arms around his waist. Opening your eyes, you spot the comic book store below, and it dawns on you that he’d taken the longer route back to your home. 

Suddenly, breathing gets a little easier. 

When Rocky finally lands, you’re back in your usual upright position. He lets you dismount first, then dematerializes his dragon, having learnt from the previous experience. You both head toward the building, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, and an odd sense of ease settling between you.

As you pause in front of the lift, you press the button, the soft glow of the floor numbers flickering in the reflection of the glass doors. "Thanks for today," you murmur, your voice quieter than intended but sincere. You catch his gaze in the reflection, his eyes meeting yours. The corners of his lips curve into a small, relieved smile.

“Maybe the next time we meet, it’ll be less awkward.” He jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Yeah. Next time.” His words don’t go unappreciated, the warmth in your own voice surprising you. The lift arrives with a soft ding, and as you step inside, something makes you hesitate. You keep the doors from closing, holding the button down.

He’s already started to turn away, ready to head back. “Friends?” The word slips out, catching slightly in your throat. Extending the olive branch feels strange, but somehow necessary.

His body stiffens for a beat, caught off guard by the offer. Slowly, he turns back toward you, his expression shifting into a wide, genuine grin. “Friends,” he repeats, the relief in his voice matching your own.

As the doors close between you, you both share a nod of understanding, your expression mirroring his. The shared gaze filled with a sense of warmth and genuine trust doesn’t break, until the lift finally disappears from his view. 

— — — — — 

As the saying goes, when life gives you lemons, you strangle the bitch for doing so. 

When it comes to Duolingo streaks at least. 

“Español? More like espafar,” you mutter, pressing the home button rapidly when the screen shows your broken streak. You’d been 7 days strong into the Spanish course but forgot all about it until now.

The lift doors open, and Holly steps in with a grin. “Buenos dias!”

“Don’t even,” you groan, showing her the screen of the animated green bird shaking its head in disappointment. She raises her brows. “I just keep forgetting everything except for like, the simple phrases. Why is it even teaching me how to say ‘the bottle is big?’” 

“Good point. I don’t think the topic of bottle sizes comes up in conversation often.” She agrees, stepping out of the lift when the doors open on the ground floor. 

“We still gotta find a company to research,” you grumble, wincing as the bright sun decides to aim its rays directly at you. Alan - another of your professors who insisted you remove the Dr. from his name had assigned your class another project on top of the already existing ones from other classes. 

“I’m basing mine off Papa’s Pizzeria,” she shrugs, narrowly avoiding a kid on his bicycle, the ringing of bells sounding through the bustling streets as they deliver newspapers from door to door. “His business model is crazy. He’s got like, what, four successful franchises?”

You sigh, the reminder of the cake you’d placed an order for just a single week away from being collected. The only reason why you’d even placed the order so early is because you knew you’d forget if you didn’t. Plus, if not for Cole’s presence, the earliest slot would’ve been months away.

“I haven’t decided mine yet,” you say, swinging your arms up in the air as you yawn, the effects of your morning americano already wearing off. Blinking sleepily, the bright lights of a building looming in the distance catch your eye. 

Huh. You squint a little, reading the words off the top. Borg Industries.

“Is that a big company around here?” Holly blinks, glancing from you to the big neon signboard in the sky. 

“You’re joking.”

The shrug you offer in return draws a snort of disbelief. “Borg Industries? The most innovative, cutting-edge tech alive? They make everything! Over two-thirds of the city uses Borg Industries products. What I would kill to sneak a look in their lab.” 

“Someone’s a fan,” you say sarcastically, flinching when she practically jolts upright. 

“Oh no, I’m not just a fan, I’m a fanatic.”

She halts in her tracks. “Actually, why don’t you do your project on it?”

You hum thoughtfully, mulling over the suggestion. “Sure,” you reply with a shrug. “Why not?”

“You can ask me anything,” she all but jumps in front of you with an excited smile. “I’ve been studying their stuff since I was a kid! My mom used to work for them, but she left because she got pregnant with my brother.”

“If I have any questions, you’ll be the first person I call. Or text. Most likely text.” The assurance makes her laugh, continuing the walk to the university. 

Luckily, today just has a few morning classes so you’re able to finish by 2pm. The iced latte you’d gotten on the way had been your primary source of fuel throughout the lectures and project discussions, chugging down the last of it as soon as class concluded. 

“That’s weird, what’s he doing here?” Glancing over at Holly, you follow her squinted gaze to a tall boy leaning against the wall next to the campus entrance. “What the fuck- Leo??”

You glance over, curiosity piqued. He looks up just as you approach, greeting Holly with a playful grin. “Hey, sis! You forgot your—” He pauses mid-sentence, his gaze landing on you. For a moment, you feel a chill, as if he’s sizing you up, but then he shakes it off, the charming smile returning.

He pushes himself off the wall, walking over to your friend with an air of effortless confidence. “Here you go,” he says, handing her a small package with a flourish, his demeanour playful and light.

“Thanks! You didn’t have to come all the way here,” she replies, genuinely grateful.

He shrugs, a cheeky glint in his eye. “Couldn’t let you go without your snacks, now could I?” He turns to you, his expression warm but with a hint of mischief. “And you must be the infamous friend I’ve heard so much about. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Infamous?” You question, fist-bumping him. “Not the wildest description I’ve ever gotten. I’m satisfied with that.” 

He pauses, turning to glance at his sister with a sceptical eye. “How’d you get someone as cool as her to be your friend? What’d you do, blackmail them?”

You grin. 

This is insanely validating. I like him.

“I did not,” Holly huffs, her cheeks flushing as she pushes her brother away with an embarrassed smile. “I gotta go for my elective now, have a safe trip home!” You wave her off with an amused smile, watching Leo protest vehemently to his sister. 

Upon reaching home, you quickly take a shower and change into a more relaxed fit. If you were gonna get beat up during a spar, you’d at least do it wearing lighter clothing.

A knock on your door draws your attention. Opening it reveals Emily holding a cup filled with a liquid so hot you can see the steam coming off the surface in wisps. “I made some tea for you.” Her voice is hesitant. 

Not again, you sigh internally. Every now and then she’d approach you with something like cookies or cake as a peace offering. You’ve always rolled your eyes and shut the door in her face.

However, you hesitate. Would it truly be so bad to accept it…? 

“It’s yuzu tea,” she interjects quickly, seizing the moment your silence creates. “I saw your friend’s mother today and gave her a whole tumbler. I was also hoping you could join us at the restaurant downtown for your dad’s birthday. I know you usually celebrate just the two of you, but… maybe this time we could celebrate together?”

Your heart sinks, frustration rising beneath the surface. Of course she’d ask for something in return. Stop pretending to be my mom. I never asked you to.

A part of you stops the harsh words from spilling past your lips, pressing them together. You know you’re being completely unfair to her, the recently opened wound beginning to throb. 

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

She blinks owlishly at your calm reaction, her hands remaining in the same position even after you remove the cup from her hands and drink from it. “Thanks,” you manage to say, angling yourself to squeeze past her figure in the hallway and walking to the door. 

Cole’s confession flashes through your mind as you glance at your dad who’s adjusting his tie in the mirror, steps slowing to a halt as you watch him hum in the bathroom.

“Hey munchkin, looking forward to your lesson today?” He spots you from the corner of his eyes, turning to you with a bright smile. 

You nod, adjusting your collar. “Yeah, thanks for signing me up for them.” 

His hands freeze, brows furrowed in pure confusion. Hiding a chuckle, you continue to the door, putting on your shoes and leaving quickly before they start asking questions. 

The phone rings in your pocket when you’re on the bus. Picking it up, you press it close to your ear as you alight, tapping the transit card on your way off. “Hello?”

“Class is cancelled today, Master Wu had to rush off to an appointment.”

“Oh.” You pull the phone away for a moment to see Cole’s name on the screen. “Why’re you the one calling me though?”

“We bumped into each other, but he forgot to let you know. He did tell me that dinner would be on us next time you come over after lessons though. Not like he’s paying me to cook anyway,” he grumbles at the last bit.

You hum in acknowledgement. “To be honest, I’m kinda…on the way already.” You admit.

“How near are you?”

You hesitate, your steps slowing to a halt. “Like…Right below the huge-ass mountain near? It’s chill though, I can just take the bus home.”

“No,” he pauses. “Just come on up. The rest of us are having Game Night, and we could use one more player.”

“Well…” You hum, glancing at the stairs. “If you say please, maybe I’ll consider it-”

“Please.”

Oh. Well, that was fast.

“You’re no fun, you know that, right?”

“You’re the one going up the stairs, aren’t you?” 

You pause, glancing down at the number of steps you’ve already walked. “Damn you, Brookstone.” His sharp laugh cuts off when you press the red button to hang up, continuing the climb with a roll of your eyes.

Reaching the doors of the monastery takes a significantly shorter amount of time than you’d expect, but it’s more likely due to the increased levels of physical activity through the amount of walking you do every day and Master Wu’s classes.

The couch potato in you is still not sure if you should be grateful for it or not.

Cole’s the one who greets you at the doors, leaning against them nonchalantly while waiting for you to reach. “About time.” He narrowly misses the punch you throw his way. 

“You couldn’t have asked Rocky to pick me up?”

“How could I? He’s resting right now.” You roll your eyes. “So how’s the project going?” He asks, referring to the one you'd been talking about over text a couple nights ago. 

“If you want, I could ask Papa to let you interview him,” Cole grins, taking the bag from you as you bend down to take off your shoes before stepping onto the varnished wooden floors. 

“It’s fine, I've changed companies. Ever heard of Borg Industries?” 

He tilts his head in thought. “I’ve heard about them, yeah. You're gonna do your project on them now?”

Your stomach growls, interrupting your sentence. The room you’re about to pass catches your eye, Cole raising a brow at your grin. Entering the kitchen to grab a snack from the private stash he’d shown you just last week, you eye the various bags of chips on the countertop. 

“You just got back from patrol?” At his nod, you veer toward the fridge and open it, grabbing a packet of frozen dumplings you’d seen him get during a random midnight grocery run at the convenience store nearby.

It’d been the first time you saw each other ever since ‘the talk’, but strangely enough, both of you immediately fell into lighthearted conversation when he asked about your classes.

He grabs the plate from a cupboard above. Spotting his fingers grasping at the edges of the plastic, you can sense the frustration brimming with every movement. Hiding a smile, you nonchalantly walk over and pull it away, examining it with the air of a professional before opening it with a simple tear.

“Call me mistaken but aren't you supposed to have, like, super strength?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head as you dump the soon-to-be delicious snack on the plate. He takes the now-filled plate from your outstretched hand, placing it into the microwave and turning it on.

“Now I just have to do research on Cyrus Borg. You wouldn’t happen to know his assistant or something, would you? That superstar ninjadom power would really come in handy right now, soulmate.” The conversation resumes as easily as it’d stopped, accepting the cup of tea he hands you and take a small sip. 

He takes a sip out of his own cup, shrugging. “I might know one of his assistants.” 

A solid thump echoes through the kitchen as you set down your cup, your gaze turning serious. “You better not be playing with me, Brookstone. I can and will drain you dry during Monopoly.”

“I’m just saying,” he points out, “that favours are a give and take. So, I’ll do you this favour and you do me another.”

“And what exactly is this favour?” Crossing your arms, you eye him with suspicion. 

“It’s no big deal. Just be Kai’s partner for Game Night.”

You blink, regarding him with scepticism. “That’s it? Just be his partner?” He nods, taking another sip. “Sure,” a slow grin spreads across your face. “I’ll do it. Then, you introduce me to this assistant and put in a good word.”

“Sure thing, soulmate.”

You watch him turn to take out the dishes from the dishwasher below the countertop, smiling softly. It’s almost insane how quickly everything had blown over. If not for him initiating the talk, you’re a hundred percent sure you would’ve continued to run away again and again until you’d been cornered.

In a way, you’re grateful for him. The whole romantic part of it would be sorted out by your future selves but for now? Being friends isn’t so bad. He sets the plate down, picks up a pair of chopsticks you’d set aside for use earlier and grabs a dumpling. 

You’re too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice he’d placed it closer to you, having poked a small hole to let the hot steam escape. “Gonna eat?” He asks through a mouthful, gesturing to the plate.

You pick up your chopsticks and pick up the dumpling closest to you, blowing on it to cool it down before taking a bite, and chewing slowly. Glancing up, you notice him looking away hurriedly. “What?” You ask with a blank stare. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Yeah, it’s over here.” He gestures to his left cheek and you use your knuckle to rub against the spot. “You missed it,” he huffs in amusement, leaning forward. Automatically closing your eyes as he draws near, you wait patiently. 

“Is it off yet?” His touch is almost feather-like, barely sensing it against your skin before you hear him sit back down in his seat. Hearing what you assume to be a sound of agreement, you open your eyes, only for them to widen at his red cheeks and teary eyes.

He uses his chopsticks to gesture at the hot dumplings as he chugs down a bottle of water, exhaling shakily when he finishes. “Hot.” Is all he can muster, roughly wiping away the tears while you dissolve into a fit of laughter.

After your initial laughter subsides, you let out a chuckle every now and then, continuing to eat. “Didn’t know you were here!” Looking up, you greet Jay with a casual wave as he saunters into the kitchen with a smug air about him.

“Heard you’re playing tonight. Prepare to get wrecked!”

“Please,” you scoff playfully, shoving off the arm he’d slung around your shoulders. “All the energy for my cancelled class is gonna go towards killing you guys off in Charades.”

“Don’t count your roosters before they hatch,” he shrugs in response, using Cole’s chopsticks to steal a dumpling. “Whose team are you on, anyway? Cole’s?”

“Kai’s.”

His arm freezes, and you can practically hear every muscle in his neck creak as he looks at Cole in silence. “...Kai?” He glances back down at you, his gaze filled with sorrow. “What did this despicable man do to make you agree?”

His arms are flung around your shoulders once more, but this time it’s in pity. “Wha- What did you make me agree to??” You demand, swivelling back toward Cole who simply smiles innocently as Jay pats your back.

Scowling at him, you bite down harshly on another dumpling, eyeing him in disbelief. Surely it wouldn’t be that bad, right? You don’t know what’ll happen or why Jay’s behaving this way, but surely it’s not terrible…

Right?

— — — — — 

“How the fuck are we getting negative points???” 

You can’t help the scoff of pure, utter bewilderment as you stare at the board in front of you. Turning to glare at Kai, he crosses his arms defensively. “Don’t blame me, you’re the one who couldn’t guess seagull.”

“In what universe was that a sea-” Cutting yourself off, you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose as you try to calm down. “A seagull has two wings and a beak. Not an amalgamation of parts from Willy Wonka’s Factory.”

“That’s what I drew! Two wings and a beak and a body!” He splutters, the offended expression on his face instantly making you lose whatever remaining hope you have for the night ahead.

A snicker from the left draws your attention, turning to see Cole, Jay, and Nya instantly masking their expressions. They raise their brows in sync as if it were your idea to team up with Kai in the first place.

Your fingers curl into a fist, wanting nothing more than to march over to your stupid, dumb soulmate, and grab his collar, shaking him till he admits he’s wronged you. Unfortunately, reality sinks in when he stands up for his turn.

You watch as Jay and Nya cheer when Lloyd gets the charades right, Kai sulking next to you. “Fuck it,” you declare, grabbing his arm and pulling him to sit back upright. “We’re gonna beat these losers.”

“Those are some fightin’ words,” Nya pipes up, Jay giving her arm a squeeze in encouragement. 

“Yeah, I don’t know about you but based on facts…” Lloyd trails off, pointing at the whiteboard as Cole uses a red marker to write down yet another point under their names, “we’re in the lead. And you know the rules-”

“I actually do not-”

“Losers treat the next group dinner.” Cole cuts you off, finishing Lloyd’s sentence as he grins maniacally at you. 

Blinking, you can feel the last bits of your dignity slipping away from under you. Your partner and you exchange glances, fist-bumping each other. “Well, looks like you’ll have to get more sponsorships because we’ll be enjoying the entire restaurant menu on you guys.” 

“Sure,” Jay snorts, waving dismissively. “On us. As if you’ll be able to beat Nya and me at Jenga.”

— — — — — 

“You cheated.”

You shrug with an air of innocence. “Poor Jay…Sad, sad little Jay who couldn’t keep the tower from collapsing in on itself…Playing Jenga with a degree in Engineering and still losing…” Kai sighs sadly with a shake of his head, bending down to pick up the scattered pieces.

“Ugh-” Jay splutters, throwing his hands up in the air. “You cheated somehow, and I’m going to prove it. Zane!”

“From my calculations, it seems that she really did beat you, Jay. She tricked you by-” You cut him off with a loud hush, shaking your head urgently even as he mumbles out a response from below your hands covering his mouth. 

“A magician never reveals their secrets.” You glare at Cole when he gently removes your hands from Zane’s face, the latter now able to speak properly. “What do you want, Brookstone?”

“Just for you to let Jay marinate in his loss.” He chuckles, helping you stand back up. He ignores his friend’s cry of outrage, taking the Jenga bricks from your hand. Kai stands up too, dumping whatever he has into Cole’s hands before sauntering off to the coffee table with a victorious grin.

“Everyone,” Pixel gasps, standing upright from her initial place on the couch. The room falls silent, tension cutting through the air as all eyes turn to her. “I tracked down the villain’s hideout. We need to go now.”

The playful banter evaporates, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and urgency. Cole’s expression shifts from playful to serious in an instant, and you can feel the weight of the moment pressing down. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice steady but laced with concern.

Pixel nods, her excitement palpable. “I’ve got the location and everything. This could be our chance to finally confront them.”

“You wanna come along?” Surprised by his sudden invitation, you grin. 

“If you insist.” 

“I didn’t but, okay-” He lets out a slight cry when you hit his arm with a scowl. You take a surprised step back when Pixal lifts up the dartboard attached to the wall, pressing a button that reveals a hidden lift. 

“Wait, you’re letting a civilian tag along?” Lloyd asks, placing an arm in front of you before you enter it. 

“It’ll be fine, she’s been taking lessons from Master Wu. Besides, it’d be great to have experience!” Kai points out. 

You nod along. “Yeah, what he said. Besides, I’m not just a civilian. I can hold my own,” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “I want to help.”

Cole steps closer, his tone firm yet encouraging. “She’s right, Kai. We need all the hands we can get. Besides, she knows what’s at stake here.”

Lloyd sighs, his arm lowering reluctantly. “Fine. But if anything goes sideways, you’re getting out of there.”

Pixal beams at you, the lift doors sliding open with a soft hum. “See? It’s gonna be fine! Just think of it as a field trip.”

As you step into the lift, you feel a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling in your stomach. The doors close, and the lift descends quickly, the sound of machinery humming around you.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” you ask, trying to distract yourself from the rising tension. “And out of curiosity, am I considered an honorary ninja after this?”

Cole cringes, shaking his head at your bad attempt at lightening the mood. “Maybe after you defeat the Overlord single-handedly or have an attack that’s targeted at you.”

“Or have an arch-nemesis out to get you,” Lloyd (unhelpfully) chimes in.

“Let’s move!” Zane calls out, adjusting his gear as he steps into the lift behind you. “We can’t let this opportunity slip away.”

Jay grins widely. “Yeah! Let’s catch those bad guys!” His eagerness is infectious, and you can’t help but smile through the sudden nervousness making itself known in the depths of your stomach.

Pixal quickly outlines the plan. “We’ll split into two groups. Lloyd and Cole will take the east side while Kai and Zane cover the west. Jay and Nya, you’ll cover the entrance to make sure they can’t run. If you find anything suspicious, signal each other.”

“Got it!” Jay replies, cracking his knuckles. “I’m ready to show those crooks who they’re dealing with!”

The journey over is quick, all of them using their own vehicles while Cole lets you ride Rocky with him once more. The briny smell of the seawater hits your nose before the docks come into view, grimacing at the scent. 

“Smells like piss.” Cole hums in agreement at your comment, diving down and landing. Once you disembark, Rocky dematerializes. The remaining vehicles come to a stop next to you. 

“Stay sharp,” Kai reminds everyone, his expression serious. “If we see anything out of the ordinary, we regroup immediately.” You take the earpiece he hands to you, taking a step back when a screen materialises in front of your eyes. 

“Hello. Do not be alarmed, this is merely a scanner to help detect and zoom in on anything we might find.” Pixal’s voice makes itself known in your ear, glancing around to see the rest already prepared to get in position.

“Let’s move out!” Cole whispers, nodding toward the entrance of the warehouse. You follow closely behind, your heart racing with each step. In fact, you’re not entirely sure you’re breathing at all. 

As you approach the massive doors, you can see the dim light filtering through the cracks, casting ominous shadows on the ground. Cole raises his hand to signal for a moment of pause. 

“On three,” he murmurs, his voice steady. “One… two… three!”

With a collective effort, you all push open the heavy doors, the sound of creaking metal echoing in the silence. As the doors swing wide, you expect to be greeted by the sight of henchmen or the stolen goods you’ve been hunting for. Instead, you’re met with…nothing.

The warehouse is empty.

“Shit,” you breathe, stepping further inside, eyes scanning the vast, open space. Shadows dance along the walls, but there are no signs of life. No stolen items, no villains, nothing but an unsettling quiet.

“Where are they?” Kai asks, his voice filled with disbelief. “They should’ve been here!”

Cole’s brow furrows as he surveys the area. “They couldn’t have just vanished. There must be something…”

Pixel, still communicating through your earpiece, adjusts her scanner. “I’m not picking up any heat signatures or movement inside. It’s as if they cleared out completely.”

Cole shakes his head, his determination unwavering. “No, this doesn’t feel right. They wouldn’t just abandon their hideout without a reason.”

A dim light flickers in the corner, catching your attention and drawing you away from the chaos around you as everyone starts to argue. As you step through the plastic shroud that covers the entrance to a separate area, an unsettling chill washes over you. The room is filled with silence, broken only by the faint rustling of your footsteps.

A massive map of Ninjago looms on the wall, its edges frayed and yellowed from the lack of sunlight. Red circles and ominous question marks encircle specific regions, each marked with frantic scrawls of black and red ink. The museum is crossed out, a bold slash that feels more like a threat than a mere ‘X marks the spot’.

“Guys?” you call out, your voice wavering as an unsettling feeling creeps into your gut. As the scanner detects something hidden behind the corner of the map, you feel your pulse quicken. You lean in closer, your heart pounding in your chest as you spot the edge of a photo peeking out.

“What’d you find?” Cole's voice breaks the stillness as he enters the room, pulling the plastic aside with a flicker of curiosity. He steps in, but his expectation for a casual discovery fades when he sees your face contorted in confusion and dread.

With trembling hands, you reach out and gingerly pull the photo free, a sense of foreboding washing over you. As you hold it up, the dim light reveals a bird’s eye view of you at a café, oblivious to the world around you, immersed in your work. The image is haunting, a snapshot of a moment that feels both ordinary and deeply unsettling.

The café looks familiar, but something about the angle of the shot feels invasive as if someone was watching you from afar, hidden in the shadows. You notice the way your focus is entirely on your laptop, unaware of the eyes that might have been tracking your every move.

“Is that…?” Cole starts, his voice trailing off as he takes a step closer, peering at the photo with wide eyes. The room feels colder now, the air thickening with the weight of unspoken fear.

“What the fuck?” you whisper, the realisation dawning on you like a dark cloud. This wasn’t just a coincidence; someone had been watching you. “They know me? They’ve been watching me?”

Something clatters to the ground as the plastic shroud is pulling away once more, each ninja entering one by one. “What’s wrong?” Nya asks, noticing the sudden change in your demeanour. 

Everyone falls silent when you hold up the photo with a blank expression for them to see. They have similar reactions, looking at you with grave eyes before Jay breaks the silence. 

“Guess you’re an honorary ninja now.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

“Is what I’m seeing real, or am I just dreaming?” Jay slaps his wrist, hissing in pain when it stings. “Nope. Real, definitely real.”

“Shh!” Nya hushes him, excitement bubbling over as she grips the edges of the doorway. Her eyes widen as Cole pokes a hole in the dumpling, lifting it with a flourish before placing it down near you. “I bet she’s his soulmate. She has to be!”

“No shit,” Jay mutters sarcastically, but his tone shifts when he notices Nya’s raised brow. “But isn’t he all ‘Oooh, I’m big and buff and strong, I don’t need a soulmate because I’m sooo independent’?” He rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

Nya presses a hand over her mouth, desperately stifling a laugh at his poor imitation. “Look at them! They’re so sweet,” she sighs, fanning her flushed face.

“Yeah, they remind me of us,” Jay murmurs dreamily, only to blink when Nya glares at him. “What?”

“Don’t you remember how our first date went?” The reminder makes him stiffen, a sheepish laugh escaping him. He squeezes her arm, his eyes pleading for her to drop it.

“Oh!” His wish is granted as Nya’s attention shifts back to the scene unfolding before them. They both watch as Cole leans over the table, fingers hovering hesitantly above your cheek.

“Is it off yet?” you ask, oblivious to the sudden tension in the air. Cole’s face flashes with panic as he quickly brushes off whatever it is before sitting back down, fanning his flushed cheeks.

In that split second when you open your eyes, Cole grabs an unpoked dumpling and pops it into his mouth whole before letting out a pained grunt.

“What is he doing??” Nya practically whisper-shouts, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“Well,” Jay allows himself a moment of smug satisfaction as he watches Cole immediately regret his life choices, chugging down the entire jug of water, “at least now you know who’s more lame.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Taglist: @candyquokka @mossy-mika @em-100-blog @cursedreader @alicesmile1 @alexa24 @raegreenie4 @burdeningbitch @viennasthings @cadencannot @ml3czqo @nanasemo @certified-cole-simp @beescomet @theblindhag @mitbin24 @sweetlittlebumblebree @brooklyniswriting @cantbecreative @something-else3 @iinlovewithfictionalppl @itz-moonlight @jebesovovise @ryeheep @letthelightin2112 @classically-bored @clearlawyereaglewobbler @anajellyc <-(So sorry i genuinely forgot to tag you!!!! forgive me pls 🙏🏻🙏🏻)

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 The Remarkable Machine Who Learned How to Love

♡ featuring: toji x f!reader

♡ cw/tw: none, a little angst but a whole lot of fluff! wc: 1.6k+

notes: i was thinking about this all day and decided to whip up somethin in a couple hours. hope u like :P art by manuel_juju on twitter! comments and reblogs are appreciated!

In a kill-or-be-killed world, Toji reached the top of the food chain—unfortunately, staying at the top is a thousand times harder than the climb. And when he looked down, there was no one to catch his fall.  

Before Toji met you, he was as aimless as a speck of dust, carried endlessly by an unpredictable tide of winds. He followed the cracked and crumbled path bespoken for lost souls like himself. Destined to be nothing but a vessel, a hollow man of sturdy muscle who worked himself to the bone, filthy jobs common men wouldn’t dare consider, because who was there to stop him anyway? Was there anything left for men birthed from hopeless circumstances, raised by broken homes to turn to lives of criminality? He couldn’t find an answer. He wasn’t equipped with the empathy to understand why guilt gnawed at his conscious; why whenever he ate takeout in his dimly lit apartment, it spilled out the chasm in his chest.  

It was much easier to complete the task, to trudge to a check cashing facility to retrieve money he couldn’t care less about. Perhaps he’d walk this earth alone forever, constantly watching over his back from a fear of daggers shooting from every direction, waiting to strike at his most vulnerable. It was only a matter of time.  

Or maybe he’d allow his sins to surpass him. Accept the peaceful release of death and pay the price of a vacant funeral service.  

It was all but irreparable, until he walked into his usual convenience store and encountered the new clerk at the register. It was past midnight, and Toji placed the quick meal on the counter. When his tired eyes panned up from those frozen noodles, his heart reset, a part he thought died amidst the torment. It skipped across his ribcage, stopped until a fleeting breath pulled him back to reality, to the intense fluorescent lights and your warm welcoming smile. There wasn’t a single altercation that stole the air from his lungs the way you did.  

Life hadn’t torn you apart yet.  

Your eyes didn’t break away, unexpected, as Toji was used to people hanging their heads near him. He’s aware of his threatening stare and intimidating stature; it’s what keeps him alive. And you were unbothered. You scanned his item, and flashed those pearly whites that sent a nosedive straight to his stomach, “I’m a big fan of this brand!”  

Toji remained tight lipped, unwilling to sift through difficult emotions and experience a feeling he believed himself to be undeserving of. He nodded, and somehow you continued, “Shouldn’t eat so late, though. Messes with your stomach.” A puff of wind pushed from his nose before he could stifle it. “Are you a doctor in the daytime?” You chuckled and bagged, “Sorry, slow day.”  

He arrives the same week, searching for a couple of beers to bring back to his apartment. You were in an obviously dangerous position, with one foot off the step ladder as you attempted to push a bottle of cleaner onto the highest shelf. It was a fight between gravity, and the opponent nearly won before his hand grabbed the handle. “Oh! Thank you” you smiled. It was sunnier than the last and reopened the stitches he’d been struggling to sew since that moment.  

Toji suddenly had countless excuses to go to the convenience store. Sometimes he’d enter for a snack, and you’d discuss your favorite chips, other times he pretended to need items just to hear your voice ramble about a niche topic you knew too much about. When his heart thrummed off kilter, and his mind became consumed with thoughts of the pretty night-shift cashier, a piece of him demeaned. How embarrassing it was, to be attracted to the scripted kindness of a service worker. Toji barely recognized he had favorites, let alone desires. So why did he have such an unwavering desire to see you?  

He’d snatch a pack of noodles one day, a subconscious grin at the joining of your eyes. It didn’t matter if the twinkle in your gaze wasn’t exclusive to him; for a second, it felt like someone cared, and it was fulfillment he couldn’t shake.  

You leaned over the counter on your elbows, “Did you know there’s over 35,000 ramen noodles restaurants in Japan?”  

“I didn’t, but that sounds like a lot of options.”  

“Mhm, you should try one. The real thing is way better.”  

“I’m sure. I don’t really go out to restaurants often, so…”  

“Me neither”, there’s a lengthy pause, and you finally blurted, “maybe we could go together!”  

He was stunned. Lost for words, really. It wasn’t possible, a girl as beautiful as you who wants to be seen with a stone-cold machine in public. It had to be a prank, a fabrication by fate to taunt him. You grew an anxious smile, “Hah, sorry, I overstep-“  

“I want to.” You stiffened, and he found solace in your shared nervousness. “O-oh! Great!” 

Toji’s first date with you had been a disaster, though. He’s heavy handed by design, and it’s no different in his daily life. His strength leads to instances of clumsy behavior. He expected you to be appalled, disgusted, or at least judgmental.  

You never shunned him. When he held your hand too tight, you slightly unclasped it. He wanted to retreat, to stuff them in his pockets and remain at a safe distance. But you interlocked hands and spoke soft, “It's okay, just try not to hold so tight.”  

He swung the door open for your entry and almost shattered the glass door on the opposite wall. “I appreciate your enthusiasm” you giggled.  

He was afraid to even hug you—he might underestimate his strength and crush your sternum. Toji walked you back to your place and turned to leave. “I’ll see ya around.” Despite that, you guided his calloused hands around your waist, slinked into his broad body, and embraced him.  Every aspect of you, foreign but comforting—little breaths fanning his shirt, fingers brushing along his back, sugary perfume wafting in his nose.  

It was heaven on Earth.  

Now years have gone by, and instead of bleached walls and silence greeting him as his eyes crack open in the morning, he smells the familiar scent of pancakes, pans clattering on the stove. He waltzes into the kitchen in a hazy state and admires the aching back of his very pregnant wife. You have a hand assisting your lower back and another on the wooden spatula scrambling eggs. 

Toji dropped his past for you after the engagement.  He cashed his last check and disappeared from the underground circle without a trace. He was aware if he continued the path he was heading, the result awaiting him was six feet under. The outcome was unimportant, however, you—the image of tears streaming down your face at his poor volition, your figure keeled over his gravesite under dewy grass and wailing for his return to no avail. He couldn’t stomach it. He had to protect you and commit to the next stage of his life. He’d never tell you about his previous work. It was for the best. He’d be selfish, just this once. 

One sock is different from the other, wearing loose shorts and a random shirt sitting above your massive belly. It’s his preferred version of you. Your stomach and thighs adorned in stretch marks, shaped like tiger stripes that declare your strength through each dip and curve; It's his greatest honor. You’d take on the complications, unending exhaustion, and hormone imbalances to bless him with a child. Toji hasn’t let you lift a finger since you got pregnant, opting to handle all the household tasks, borderline subservient to the mother of his child. So, his mouth twists when he sees you up so early.  

He stands behind you, hands trailing from your upper thighs to your stomach, then the small of your back. You lean into him while he massages circles and whisper a tiny “Good morning.” 

“Ya could’ve woke me up” Toji mumbles, kissing your temple. He wraps around to the underside of your belly, mindful of his muscle, and lifts it carefully. His respect for you increases tenfold with the heavy weight on his palms. You hum a pleased noise, sudden relief from your back. He carries it and smooths his thumbs over the taut skin. 

“You’re a late sleeper, and I haven’t made breakfast in a long time.” 

“Ya don’t have to do a thing, y’know.” 

“I know. But I wanna do this for you”, and he grins. It’s quiet, standing in the warmth of your bodies, sunshine glowing through the window to cast an angelic gleam on your face.  

Then he feels an imbalance of pressure along his fingers and mild wriggling within your tummy. Toji traces the movements, seeking to play a game with his unborn child. Sometimes it scares him, to bring new life into a world that almost smothered his light.  He worries that he’ll end up on the same road as him or he won’t be a good enough father. The journey of parenthood is a long, laborious one. You’re always learning, and Toji’s still processing the basics. It’s complicated, he trips and falters; yet you’re there to support him, through thick and thin, sickness and in health.  

What was he if not for you—his pillar, his source of happiness and comfort. You’d given him everything to wish for and infinite reasons to stick around. An iron criminal, bested by no mortal, chipped away by compassion and gentle hands. 

“You can let go if it’s too heavy.” 

I can stay here forever. 

[in-amess]

what happened to just messing around? pt.1

paige bueckers x female oc

-

Long story short, Hailey finds her boyfriend cheating on her and runs to her ex for an escape and release, but not without a set of rules.

-No name calling

-No holding

-No kissing

-Lights remain off

The sex stops once a rule has been broken.

-

Hailey grips the sheets tighter, pulling the liner off the mattress. She gasps when Paige peppers her clavicle with kisses, the spots left feeling cold when Paige’s lips pull away. Her head spins and she chokes back a cry when Paige swirls her tongue around the smaller girl’s nipple, fighting the urge to pull Paige up to her level. A question escapes Hailey’s mouth before she even realizes she thought of it.

“Can I hold on to you?”

It was in the heat of the moment, Paige would understand. Sheets won't do her justice, she wants to wrap her arms around her neck badly, or grip her shoulders at least.

Paige pulls away with a pop and lifts her head up face to face with Hailey. She felt like she was on chains. She badly wanted to pull Paige down and kiss her.

“No.”

Hailey saw it coming from a mile away, although it looked as if Paige gave it some thought. Suddenly Hailey misses the feeling of Paige’s hands on her waist, but she's stunned when Paige opens her palm and interlaces their fingers together.

“What… What are you doing?” Hailey says between breaths. She hasn’t been able to think straight after being edged for so long and she feels dizzy, now Paige is holding her hand after establishing the rule of no touching or holding.

“Giving you something to hold on to?”

Hailey processed her answer, still searching Paige’s eyes for a cruel joke, but the blue eyes looked at her genuinely.

“Doesn't this seem really intimate?”

Paige must think she's stupid. She's on top of her. She's kissed every part of her but her lips. Paige was just eating her out, but Hailey thinks hand holding is ‘really intimate’?

Maybe it's because she's never done this with any of her partners. Hailey’s never felt as vulnerable as she does now. And that's why she has to draw the line. Redraw the line. Remind both of them how they started and what they were to begin with.

Friends with benefits. Acquaintances with benefits? Hey-I-Met-You-When-I-Hit-Rock-Bottom-And-Needed-An-Escape-Benefits?

“Really?” Paige’s eyes are wide. Her blues shining brighter than before.

“Yes.” Hailey turns her head away, swallowing thickly. She doesn't want Paige to read her. She doesn't want Paige to see through her. “It doesn't feel right.” Hailey forces out of herself, when in reality she knows itself never felt so right.

It's Paige’s turn to look away. Releasing Hailey’s hands to place them on the sides of the mattress instead of her hips, where they rested before. “Sorry.”

[sarcasticlcves]

Dating The TVDU Women Includes

Katherine Pierce:

You knowing her since 1491

Katherine turning you into a vampire, so you could both be together "forever"

Her being severely protective over you

Stefan and Damon going after you to get to her

You and Katherine both being chased by Klaus for 500 some years

Being shocked when Nadia (Katherine's daughter) shows up looking for Katherine

Comforting Kath when Nadia gets bitten by Tyler and is slowly dying

Both of you being stabbed with the traveler knife and dying together

A/n~ I cried making this one. I miss my bby Kathy 😭💔

Hayley Marshall:

You being a werewolf/witch hybrid

Klaus threatening you to not hurt his little or littlest wolf or you won't be able to see the light of day again

Being a stepmom/mentor to Hope

"When I said give it your all and punch me in the stomach, I didn't actually mean it Hope!" "Sorry mama..."

Being besties with Rebekah and Freya

Hayley being super cuddley

Her being super protective of you. Even going as far as to threaten Klaus and Elijah

"If I hear that you two idiots lay a single finger on y/n, I will personally bite your heads off! Got it?!"

*Klaus and Elijah nodding, scared for their fucking lives* "we got it" "we won't touch her, we promise"

Being present when Hayley throws herself and Greta into the burning sun

Despising Elijah after that day and never forgiving him (I hated Elijah after that. I don't care if he didn't have his memories or what)

Only staying in the Mikaelson family compound for Hope's sake

When Klaus died, you adopted Hope and moved to mystic falls so she could enroll in the Salvatore school

Raising Hope because you knew that's what Hayley would want for her

Hope Mikaelson:

Being a Tribrid like Hope

Knowing her since you both were little kids

Hope being very closed off and distant with you at first

Her slowly opening up and being more vulnerable with you as time passes

Hope being a very affectionate person behind closed doors

Hope being super overprotective

This bby also gets very jealous very quick

You being best friends with Lizzie and Hope despising your guys friendship

Dark! Tribrid! Hope Mikaelson:

When Hope goes full dark Tribrid, you were by her side through all of it

Even when she snapped Lizzie's neck right infront of you

When Lizzie got sired to Hope you got jealous and protective reallll quick

You even went as far as to kill your own girlfriend to break the bond between them both

And let's just say Hope was not happy when she woke up...

"You killed me because you were jealous?! Fine, let's see how you like getting your neck broken"

After all the arguing you two weren't on the best terms

Hope distanced herself from you a lot and her trust in you went to 0%

Yeah, I wouldn't recommend dating dark! Tribrid! Hope and pissing her off...

Lizzie Saltzman:

Being a Tribrid

Lizzie siphoning from you a lot

You being very protective of this sweet, sensitive little baby

You helping her through her episodes

Being present when Lizzie wakes up and turns into a Heretic

You having to teach Lizzie everything she could possibly know about vampires

Lizzie being very clingy and vulnerable with you

Going on a rampage when you find out Lizzie was sired to Hope

"I swear I will gut you like a fish Mikaelson!"

"Baby...calm down please.."

Hope knowing to not mess with Lizzie while your around

Jade Salvatore:

You and Jade both being stuck in the prison world together

Her humanity flickering when she's around you

She's VERY possessive

Not to mention jealous

You despising Kai Parker

"Oh, would ya look at that. I get to gut you again today"

"Well shit-"

A/n~ i didn't really have many idea's for Jade, so this was all I could come up with

[howlingmod]

Warm

summary - katana x reader. reader is described to have a broken horn and it's implied to have been some sort of big deal but it's not super detailed

wc - i dunno again. woops

misc - heretic katana ily ... also sorry for any mistakes i love writing tired on a whim. smiles

It was late. The sky had long since turned pitch as the rain continued to pour on and on. Crossroads had fallen quiet for the night, rain driving passerby indoors and locking them inside for the evening. The silence was broken only by the constant pittering of the rain, tapping on the window sill and running down the sides of your apartment building.

Katana couldn't complain. While he stayed at your place rather frequently, he had yet to adjust to the louder bands of night owls that often roamed at this time. It'd keep him up, picking up the faint noise of conversation and movement. It'd keep you up, if only because of his stiffness. The hustle and bustle of the city had long become white noise to you, leaving tonight with a strange absence the rain couldn't fill.

That was probably why the both of you were still awake at this point, even if only partially so. Your body felt heavy, lead weights accumulating in your limbs to keep you firmly planted as you were. You didn't have a huge bed, but you two were still far closer than you needed to be, tangled together and facing one another.

A hand trailed from your arm up to your face, warmth bleeding into your skin before slowly ebbing back out. From there, it travelled further upwards to the base of a horn, left fractured and badly cauterized.

After an injury, horns can eventually grow back, so long as the trauma hasn't completely destroyed the tissue. By all means, you should've been able to grow yours back, but not everything turns out as it should. There had been too much blood loss, too much sensitive tissue and nerve endings left exposed that was sure to get infected in the mess. If your horn was to get infected in such a vulnerable state, you likely wouldn't be here. And so, as opposed to the fine, smooth edges you once had, there was now a mess of shards and sinew firmly covered by synthetic material affixed to the remaining pieces.

Nerve endings had been burned off, but even the faintest touch still resonated deep in the hollows and grooves of your horn. Ordinarily, you would flinch back, grab at your horn until you could numb it again with enough stimulation, but instead you laid still. You couldn't see his and moving, but you could feel him exploring the cracks left over.

You could feel the featherlight touch of a fingertip tracing the spidery splinters in the surface till they faded back into the thick of the material. You could feel it roll back up to the division of synthetic material and your own- if his touch hadn't been careful before, it was near paranoid now, just barely grazing the surface for fear of hurting you. After following the groove all around the reachable exterior, it fell back down to tracing along the length of it, long cracks and imaginary shapes alike.

You could barely make out the glint of light on his eyes and exposed teeth. You could just barely find the roughened skin and dense gums, could just see the edges of where once smooth skin had been ripped open to leave his insides bare. Your hand was too heavy to move, too heavy to even think about moving it, so you settled for tracing along the edges with your eyes.

He didn't like his face, that much had been made clear to you. To him, it was a reminder of awful times, of pain and torture he would never forget, mentally or physically. To you, it was his face. It was all you had ever known him to look like. The only Katana you knew was the scarred one, the one with leathery skin and bad memories. Likewise, he had never seen your original set of horns, perched proudly on the top of your head like a crown, he only knew the asymmetrical ones, one ripped apart while the other stayed as a reminder of what they were supposed to be.

You had been hesitant to ever let him get close to it, turning your head away to hide it whenever he even so much as glanced at it. With time, with bearing his own scars to you, you'd grown more comfortable with it. He still remembers the day you first touched the lip of your shorter horn to one of his, how neither of you had said anything. Neither of you felt the need to, the message had already been given.

"I love you."

Your throat felt dry, had you really said that? You figured you must have, if only beause he had smiled, skin pulling alongside his lips at your words.

"I love you too."

[lucysarah-c]

Second question!

(sorry for the delay, work got in the way >___> Once again, there is absolutely no rush to reply to these <3 Especially because I know I will make a mess of this ask in particular lol) I think you mentioned in one of your previous posts that you think Levi would very much be of the opinion "my past is my own, and just because we are together does not mean you are entitled to know it". Or something on those lines.

Now, imagine Levi and Y/N have been together for a while and, despite not pressing him, she has made clear that she is interested in where he comes from, in understanding "all of him". Do you thin Levi would still be tight-lipped about his past? Or do you see him randomly dropping things whenever he feels comfortable, like he told Nifa about Kenny?

And finally... do you think he would ever talk voluntarily about Furlan and Isabel? How would that conversation go? And, how do you see Levi replying to Y/N saying somethig like "I think they would be proud to see how far you got"?

That's it, I promise my questions should be done for a while uahahaha I know I did it in my previous ask, but thank you very much for taking the time to read these and for the patience you have when replying to all of us and for putting up with the fandom in general! I wish you a lovery day Lucy and I send you a heartfelt hug <3

Hi, Feris! It's always a pleasure to see you in my inbox, sweetie <3

I love it when I have clear answers for asks, haha. I think Levi would first start by casually dropping little details about his life. Like, maybe one day they’re both lying in bed, and she’s playing with his hair when she notices a scar on his head. She could ask about it, and Levi would just go, “Oh, that? It’s from when Farlan and I stole our first 3DMG. It was so broken that even after I tried to fix it, it went berserk. I hit the corner of a roof and left blood everywhere, haha. But Farlan couldn’t stop laughing long enough to help me—the idiot.”

I imagine Levi doing this a lot—sharing the most heartbreaking stories like they’re funny memories. And she’d be there like, “…sweetie, that’s actually traumatizing and sad.” I feel like, as you mentioned, he’d drop these things randomly when he felt comfortable enough.

This next part is based on personal experience since one of my parents is really secretive about their life. I don’t think Levi would avoid talking about Farlan or Isabel, even on a daily basis. If he’s comfortable with her, I feel like he’d bring them up in conversation more often than we might expect. But I don’t see him sitting down to explain everything in detail, you know? Like, Levi wouldn’t act like they never existed or try to hide them, and the same goes for his mother or Kenny. He might mention them casually in conversations, but I don’t think he’d willingly go through the vulnerability of talking in-depth about the experience of losing them. If that makes sense?

Levi’s past would be like a puzzle she’d slowly piece together. He’s the type of partner who would share the most character-defining story on a lazy Sunday while making pancakes, all because something in the moment reminded him of it, as if it were nothing.

As for the comment you suggested Y/N make, I think he’d definitely be touched by it. He’d probably go quiet for a moment, breaking eye contact as he tries to process the feeling. Then, in a quiet voice, he’d murmur, “Thank you. But I’d still prefer it if they were here… those idiots.” Softly, almost under his breath. If they were close, maybe he’d squeeze her hand or rest his forehead against hers for a moment while he gathered himself, not wanting to show too much vulnerability.

Thank you so much for all your sweet comments, T-T! Truly, I appreciate them. Sending you a big, tight hug back!

[edgessunflower]

Welcome to my and @romanthereigns prompt list! 🩷🩵

Give credits to us if you use any prompts

⚠️18+ for smut! ⚠️

☻ "So we’re officially starting a family now?"

☻ “I’m pregnant, not handicapped”

☻ "The only thing owed is this child having both parents and if you're in I'm in"

☻ “I can’t wait to see you be the best dad”

☻ "Look at you, absolutely wonderful just like your mom, you're gonna be an amazing human"

☻ “I hate this” “hate what?” “Hate that I’m huge and I know you don’t want me anymore”

☻ "That's our baby, kicking my hand" "They love you already"

☻ “Why are you crying?” “Because our baby’s so cute”

☻ "You’re doing so well sweetheart, just a few more weeks my superwoman"

☻ “I’m not going to be in a place where my baby and I aren’t wanted”

☻ "Can't keep your hands away can you?" "Why would I when you're always so damn pretty and with my baby in you"

☻ “If this baby doesn’t get out of me soon, you’re gonna have to just push me in a wheelbarrel for the rest of my life”

☻ "The first one is always an adventure"

☻ “This baby is messing with you, I want you all the time. You’re not huge, you’re pregnant and even if you were, I don’t care I love you”

☻ "I'm afraid of being a dad because of how my dad was with me..."

☻ “I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything for your birthday” “You gave me the best gift of all, being a mother/father”

☻ "Look at my little baby, absolutely beautiful head to toe and already smiling"

☻ “We gotta think of a name soon, I’m not gonna call my baby ‘baby’ for the rest of my life”

☻ "Hi little one, you're so beautiful and perfect my little baby"

☻ “The baby hasn’t stopped crying and if you don’t hug me soon, I’m going to start crying too”

✫ “Everytime I get sad, I think of your beautiful face and I’m reminded it’s on a be okay”

✫ "You can trust me"

✫ “When we first met, I never thought I’d fall in love with you”

✫ "You're different and that's what makes you wonderful"

✫ “When I look at you, I think about how happy I am, I can’t believe you’re mine”

✫ "You brought so many things to my life that I thought I never deserved"

✫ “When I look into your eyes, it’s a reminder of who I do it for”

✫ "Remember, you're not alone"

✫ “When you smile, I can’t help but smile too. Your smile makes everything better”

✫ "Come closer, I'll warm you up in my arms"

✫ “I often wonder how different life would have been without you in it… I’m glad you’re in it because you make everything better”

✫ "I never expected to have anyone love me the way you do"

✫ “You’re this lovable goofball who I’m so lucky that I fell in love with”

✫ "You brought so many things to my life that I thought I never deserved"

✫ “When I talk about you, I tell them that the one thing that makes me fall in love with you… your heart of pure gold”

✫ "You're my home"

✫ “When I think of you, all these bad thoughts disappear”

✫ "The person who I want in my life by my side and to love forever, it's you"

✫ “Do you feel my beating heart? It only beats for you”

✫ "You're not broken, you're human and not everyone is willing to accept and understand it, but I am"

✫ "You make me feel safe when I'm vulnerable, and I can never trust or love anyone to do that than you"

☼ "Come to my room, there’s this thing I wanna try"

☼ “Look at you doing such a good job”

☼ "You’re so beautiful all spread out like this... just for me"

☼ “I love watching you taste me”

☼ "Don’t worry, I’ll take of you"

☼ “Oh, you’re so sensitive I love that”

☼ "I bought a few pieces of lingerie, want me to model for you?"

☼ “Fuck me!” “Alright, bend over”

☼ "Don’t be afraid, it’s just me"

☼ “God, you’re soaked is that all from me?”

☼ "I don’t know what to do" "Then let me teach you"

☼ “Look at you…falling apart because of me”

☼ "Don’t cover you’re face, I want to see you"

☼ “When I think about you, I touch myself”

☼ "Spend the night with me"

☼ “I want to remember this night for the rest of my life, you’re just so perfect”

☼ "I’ve been thinking about this night"

☼ “I don’t care how long it takes, but I’m gonna make you scream my name”

☼ "So damn sexy, just keep moving like that"

☼ “Oh god, I’m so close baby”

☼ "More beautiful than you already were"

✎ “I hate that I care so much about you, but I know you don’t care about me in the slightest”

✎ "I wanna know why, why did it have to happen to me?"

✎ “You’ve broke me for the last time”

✎ "Stop looking at me like I'm damaged goods"

✎ “I’m so scared to trust you because I know what happens in the end

✎ "I trusted you...and you left me broken"

✎ “One day, I’ll be moved on and you’ll want me, but I promise you, I’m not coming back this time”

✎ "The worst part is I truly loved you"

✎ “I fucking hate you for this, there’s no forgiving you this time”

✎ "I just want to know you care about me"

✎ “Don’t tell me you’re sorry if you’re not gonna mean it”

✎ "You saved me then killed me all over again"

✎ “I can’t hate you for everything you’ve done and I don’t know why”

✎ "Why am I always your second choice?"

✎ “You make me feel so stupid”

✎ "I loved you, believe me I did then you turned into someone else, someone... scary"

✎ “I can’t stay this time, I don’t think I love you anymore”

✎ "You were my ride or die"

✎ “I can’t think of any reason we should still be together”

✎ "Why did I even think I could be enough for you"

[daenysx]

hiii it's the crying anon !!! (lol) ibe been so sad today bc i literally failed my ap exam like i did terrible and i e just been so sad and in my head all day :/// i literally just need a hug like im so sad and i need a james potter rn :( would you kind writing something for this ??? if not, it's totally okay my lovely , have a great day !!!

i'm so sorry, baby, i hope this helps making you feel better a bit!! you can always reach out when you're sad (if you wanna talk to someone!!) i'll be here. love u <33333

james potter x fem!reader

you try to stay calm as you knock on james's door.

he shares the apartment with sirius and remus but you know they are not here right now. it's a relief, no matter how close friends you are with them, you wouldn't want them to see you cry.

when james opens the door, you first spot his glasses. his hair looks messy, wild waves finding their own shape on his head, his skin warm. he looks like he's just woken up, you feel sorry for interrupting his sleep.

"i'm sorry, jamie." you begin saying. "were you sleeping?"

james quickly holds your hand to welcome you inside. "just fell asleep on the couch, angel. i'm glad you wake me, it always messes with my night sleep."

you give him a broken smile. james closes the door, he helps you take off your jacket. you put your bag on the floor, slipping out of your shoes, never looking at james's direction as you make your way to his bedroom. he follows you.

the room smells like him everywhere, and the safety you feel around james overwhelms you so hard, it hits you. you start crying without any control, without trying to stop yourself. james looks surprised but he reacts quickly as always, he holds your arms gently, then his kind fingers are on your chin to see your face.

"sweetheart." he says. "what's- what's wrong?"

"my exam." you manage to say and he understands. james doesn't like asking unnecessary questions about a situation when you cry your eyes out, especially. you can tell everything later, when you calm down. he knows the exam is important, he knows how much you studied, and how stressed you were days before.

"i'm sorry." he says, reaching for you. "oh, my baby." he coos, you feel so vulnerable in his arms as he holds you, your face tucked in his neck with his hands rubbing on the tense muscles of your back. you cry against him, but james is strong. he'll hold you as long as you need him.

he strokes your hair, drying up your fresh tears as much as he can. you lean on him, your legs feel numb, and your head hurts. you tried to stay strong all day long, keeping a neutral face even though you were disappointed, but now that it's safe, you let out every emotion that begs to be free.

james whispers gentle words against your ear. he doesn't know if they help but he never liked silence. you lift your head to see him, your wet cheeks and wobbly lip crash his heart. you never deserve to cry. he rubs two desperate thumbs on your cheeks to get your pretty face back from tears.

"my head hurts, jamie." you say. "can i have some water?"

"of course." james says. "sit on the bed, angel, i'll be right back."

he takes a bottle of cold water from the fridge. you don't like eating when you're upset, james knows this, so he won't ask if you're hungry. he returns to his room, gets on his knees to reach your spot on bed.

you take a few sips from the bottle. it helps cooling down your throat. you look at james's worried face. he tries to hide it but his forehead has wrinkles, they always appear when he gets nervous.

"i'm okay." you say. "i'm sorry, that was- a lot. i did really bad, i just-"

"baby." he hushes you with a kiss on your hand. you look like you're explaining for his sake and not because you want to speak. "you have nothing to be sorry for. let's talk about this later, okay? you need to get some sleep."

you nod gratefully. james gives you one of his rugby team t-shirts. you change into it quickly, your legs stay bare. he helps you get under the covers, joins you exactly two minutes later after taking off his clothes and texting remus to let him know you'll be sleeping in his room.

he is so warm, you wrap your legs around his immediately. your head stays on his chest as he holds your waist and plays with your fingers with his other hand. you take quiet breaths to relax, your eyes hurt from all those crying.

"it's all gonna be okay." he silently promises. "can you try not to think of it for a few hours, lovely girl? i know it's hard but- you need to sleep on it. you need to get some rest."

"okay." you say. you have no energy left. james turns to his side to press you better against him. you think you'll be better once your breathing turns normal. he strokes your hair gently and squeezes your body just the way you like. you wrap a tired arm around his waist. closing your eyes, you try to forget about everything.

james kisses your forehead. he thinks a good cup of coffee and your favorite breakfast can make the morning a bit better for you. he'll listen if you wanna talk, answer your questions if you have any. he thinks about how upset you've been all day long and a protective wave washes over him again. his arms around you has never been this tight.