#before when i was feeling sad i looked at them curled up together and almost cried

[lostfracturess]

LAST DECEMBER MORNING — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

summary — on a frost-bitten december morning, you watch satoru gojo prepare for his fated battle with sukuna with infuriating calm, like he isn't planning to sacrifice himself for the greater good. you've spent years being his secret, clearing battlefields for him and stealing kisses between missions, but now you're faced with the most brutal truth. that sometimes the cruelest curse isn't the one that kills you — it's loving someone who belongs to the world before they belong to you.

word count — 5.4 k

warnings — heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood and violence, implied death, unhealthy relationship, sad ending

author's note — this has been rotting in my drafts since the final jjk chapter dropped, and i finally dragged it out into the light bc i'm procrastinating uni. fair warning, this is pure angst with zero comfort, just two people breaking each other's hearts because sometimes love isn't enough. anywayys, happy reading <3

masterlist

Winter had never felt so much like an ending.

You watched frost creep across the windows of your shared apartment, each crystalline pattern forming like cracks in glass, spreading slowly but inevitably.

Outside, the world lay hushed under winter's blanket, everything soft and serene. Birds traced lazy patterns against a sky so blue it hurt to look at, and fresh snow made everything clean and new.

It was the kind of morning that belonged in fairy tales, the kind poets write about when they want to capture peace in words. Strange, how you'd never imagined death would choose such a beautiful day.

You watched Satoru move through his routine, each gesture precise and unhurried. White hair caught the pale sunlight as he smoothed it back, his reflection in the mirror handsome as ever before he adjusted his clothes, and put on his blindfold.

You'd watched him prepare for countless missions before, but this felt different. This felt final.

The normality of it all was almost cruel — how he could stand there, getting ready like this was just another day, just another fight. Like the sun wasn't rising on what could be your last morning together.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, each second falling like a stone into still water. Time felt strange, both rushing too fast and moving too slow. You wanted to grab the clock's hands, force them to stop, to give you just a few more moments in this morning that felt like borrowed time.

"You're staring," he said without turning around, a slight smile playing at his lips.

"Can you blame me?" You were curled up in the window seat, tea growing cold in your hands. "It's not every day your— whatever we are goes to fight the King of Curses."

He turned then, and even through the blindfold, you could feel the weight of his gaze. "Whatever we are?" There was amusement in his tone. "After all this time, you still don't know what we are?"

"Well, we're not exactly big on labels," you pointed out, trying to keep your voice light despite the heaviness in your chest. "Secret relationship and all that."

"Ah, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it?" He crossed the room to where you sat, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "The sneaking around, the secret meetings—"

"Satoru." You caught his hand. "How are you so calm about this?"

He tilted his head, considering. "Would you prefer if I was panicking?"

"I'd prefer if you showed any emotion at all about the fact that you're about to fight Sukuna." You stood up, setting your tea aside. "You've been acting like this is just another day, just another fight, but it's not. You know it's not."

"I think I've shown plenty of emotion," he said, pulling you closer with a playful smile. "Just last night, if I recall—"

"Don't." You pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him at arm's length. "Don't deflect. Not today."

The smile faded from his face, replaced by something more serious. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me why you're so calm. I want you to tell me why you're not worried." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on. "I want you to tell me why it feels like you're saying goodbye."

He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing patterns on your wrist where he still held it. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "The world needs to move forward. It needs to find someone stronger."

"What are you talking about?" You pulled back slightly. "You're the strongest there is."

"Am I?" His smile was gentle, almost sad. "Or is that just what everyone needs to believe?"

"Satoru—"

"The world has relied on me for too long," he continued. "They've made me their symbol, their savior, their stupid hero. But what happens when I'm gone? Who protects them then?"

"You're not going anywhere," you said. "You're going to win. You always win."

He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "Sometimes winning isn't about surviving. Sometimes it's about making sure what comes after is better than what came before."

"That's not funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm trying to tell you that whatever happens today, the world will keep turning. It will find new leaders, new protectors. Maybe even better ones."

"I don't want new protectors," you whispered. "I want you."

"Ah, but you've always had me," he said softly. "Ever since that first mission together, when you told me my head was too big to fit through doorways. Do you remember?"

You huffed. "You were showing off, making everything more complicated than it needed to be."

"I was trying to impress you."

"You're always trying to impress me."

"But it's working, right?"

You pressed closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent. "You know it is, you idiot."

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. For a moment, you both stood there in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of how this all began, of the first time you'd been close enough to hear his heart race.

For loving Satoru Gojo had always been the most beautiful and dangerous thing in your world.

It started in blood, as most things in your world did. A mission gone wrong, cursed spirits thick in the air, the metallic taste of death sharp on your tongue. You’d seen him fight before—who hadn’t?

But that night was different. That night, you saw him bleed.

A special-grade curse caught you both off guard. One moment, he fought three curses at once like some untouchable god, and the next, he was crashing through three buildings, blood gushing from his mouth.

Something in your chest cracked at the sight — not from the impact of being thrown back yourself, but from seeing him, the strongest sorcerer alive, look so terrifyingly human.

You remembered how his blindfold had been torn, those devastating blue eyes meeting yours across the wreckage. Blood trickled down his chin, his usually perfect hair matted with debris, and yet he smiled. That damn smile that made your heart stutter even as cursed spirits attacked you from all sides.

“Trying to steal my spotlight?” he’d joked, wiping blood from his lips as he stood. “I’m the only one allowed to look cool here.”

You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to scream at him for making jokes when he could have died. You did none of those things. Instead, you cleared the area, giving him the perfect opening he needed to obliterate the special grade.

Later, after the dust had settled and the reports had been filed, he cornered you in the darkened hallway of Jujutsu High.

“You’re angry,” he said, not a question but a statement.

“I’m not angry.” You were furious. “I’m just wondering how someone who’s supposed to be the strongest can be so fucking reckless.”

He stepped closer, backing you against the wall. “Worried about me?”

“You wish.” But your voice shook, betraying you. Because you had been worried. Terrified, actually. The image of him lying in that wreckage, blood staining his white hair red, had burned itself into your mind.

“Liar,” he whispered, and then his lips were on yours.

Everything they said about Satoru Gojo was true — he was overwhelming, all-consuming, impossible to resist. Kissing him felt like being struck by lightning, like being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. You broke apart, both breathing hard, and reality came crashing back.

“Fuck,” you summarized eloquently.

He laughed, the sound low and rich. “That could be arranged.”

“Satoru.” You pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you. Because I’m me. Because there are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea.”

“I’m only hearing excuses.” He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Not actual reasons.”

And that was how it started — with blood and curses and kisses in dark hallways. With terrible ideas that felt too good to resist.

Keeping it secret was both easier and harder than you expected. Easier because everyone already knew how Satoru was — flirtatious, tactile, always pushing boundaries. No one questioned when he draped himself over your desk during meetings or appeared uninvited in your office and stayed for hours.

Harder because every moment felt like a lie of omission. Harder because you had to watch him walk into danger again and again, had to maintain professional distance when all you wanted was to grab him and never let go.

You stole moments where you could find them. Quick kisses in empty classrooms, heated encounters between missions, quiet nights in your apartment when the world thought he was somewhere else entirely.

It ate at you sometimes. Not because you wanted to announce it to the world, but because each moment felt borrowed, stolen from a future you might never have.

Every time he left for a mission, every time he faced another curse, you wondered if this would be it. If this would be the time your last memory of him would be a secret smile across a meeting room, a cryptic message that no one else understood. But then he’d come back, always with that insufferable smile, usually with some ridiculous story about how amazing he’d been.

He’d find ways to touch you in public that looked casual — a hand at the small of your back during briefings, fingers brushing as he passed you documents, his body angled toward yours in crowded rooms like a sunflower seeking light.

And the worst part? The absolute worst part was how good he was at pretending. How easily he maintained his public persona — the untouchable, unbeatable Satoru Gojo, who flirted with everyone and meant it with no one.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you in meetings with the same expression he gave everyone else, and for a moment, you’d wonder if you’d imagined everything between you.

But then night would fall, and he’d show up at your door with takeout and that soft smile he saved just for you. He’d kiss you like he was trying to apologize for every moment he had to pretend you were nothing special, like he was trying to prove that this, the two of you, was the only real thing in his world.

You never talked about the future. How could you? In your line of work, tomorrow was never guaranteed. Each mission could be your last, each kiss could be your goodbye. The closest you ever came to acknowledging it was in the desperate way he’d hold you after a close call, in the way you’d trace his features in the dark like you were trying to memorize them by touch.

Some nights, when sleep eluded you both, he’d tell you about the weight of being the strongest, about the exhaustion of being everyone’s last hope.

He’d whisper his fears into your skin — not of death or defeat, but of failing those who believed in him. Those were the moments when the great Satoru Gojo disappeared, leaving just Satoru, just a man who carried the world on his shoulders and made it look easy.

You lived for those moments. The quiet ones, the real ones, the ones where he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive but just yours. Just as you were his.

You carved out your own little infinity in the spaces between battles and duties. A secret world where his laugh wasn’t for show, where your touch wasn’t professional, where you could just be the two of you without the weight of expectations and reputations.

But infinity, as it turned out, had limits. Even his.

Looking at him now, preparing to face Sukuna with that same causality he brought to everything, you wondered if this was how your story was always meant to end. If all those stolen moments were just preparing you for this — one last morning, one last smile, one last chance to pretend tomorrow might come.

The world needed someone stronger, he said. But you needed him. And maybe that was the cruelest curse of all — loving someone the world needed more than you did.

"Promise me something," you said then.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you won't just give up. Promise me you'll fight to come back."

He pulled back slightly, reaching up to remove his blindfold. His striking blue eyes met yours, intense and clear.

"I promise," he said, "that everything I do today will be for a better tomorrow."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's the only promise I can make."

"Stop." Your voice turned sharp, anger finally breaking through. "Stop talking about tomorrow. Stop talking about the future and the next generation and whatever noble sacrifice you think you need to make. I don't care about any of that."

"Don't you?"

"No, I don't." You grabbed his jacket, fingers twisting in the fabric. "I don't care if the world needs someone stronger. I don't care if the next generation needs to step up. I care about you, you impossible man. I want you here, alive, with me. Is that so wrong? Am I not allowed to be selfish when it comes to you?"

"Huh." He caught your hands in his, but didn't pull them away from his jacket. "And here I thought you understood me better than anyone."

"Don't." You tried to pull away, but he held firm. "Don't you dare try to make this about understanding. I understand perfectly. But you're wrong. You don't have to do this."

His smile faltered slightly. "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple!" Your voice cracked. "You're choosing to make it complicated. You're choosing to walk away, to... to what? Make some grand statement about the future? Prove that the world can survive without the great Satoru Gojo?"

"Someone has to."

"But why does it have to be you?" The words burst out of you, raw and desperate. "Why do you have to be the one to show them? Why can't you just fight to win, to live, to come back to—" You cut yourself off, biting back the words that wanted to follow.

"To you?" he finished softly.

"Yes," you said, dropping your forehead against his chest. "To me. Call me selfish, call me short-sighted, I don't care. I want more mornings like this. More everything. More of you, being insufferably calm and making terrible jokes and acting like the world isn't ending when we both know it might be."

He was quiet for a moment, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than before.

"I can't promise to come back." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But know this, every moment with you has been worth fighting for. Worth living for."

You pulled back enough to look at him, really look at him. "Then fight for more moments. Fight to make more memories. Fight to come back to me, not for some greater purpose or stupid sacrifice, but because you want to."

"And if I told you that wanting isn't enough?"

"Then I'd call you a liar." Your voice turned cold. "Because you're Satoru fucking Gojo. When has anything ever been impossible for you? When have you ever let anyone tell you what you can't do?"

​​"This is different—"

"How? How is this different? Because it's Sukuna? Because it's the fate of jujutsu society? Or because you've already decided how this story ends?"

His hands tightened on you, and for a moment, just a moment, you saw something flicker behind those blue eyes — doubt, fear, longing, you couldn't tell. But then it was gone, replaced by that same calm certainty that made you want to scream.

"Because I can't protect everyone—can't protect you if I allow myself to believe in a tomorrow," he whispered.

The gentleness in his voice, the soft way he delivered words meant to cut, made you want to tear the world apart. It was so perfectly Satoru — to break your heart like he was doing you a favor, to wound you with a tenderness that felt more cruel than any violence could be.

"I never asked you to protect me," you said finally. "I asked you to stay. There's a difference."

"Is there?" His hand came up to cup your face, shaking ever so slightly, betraying the calm he fought so hard to maintain. "Because every time I look at you, all I can think about is how many people would use you to get to me. How many would hurt you just to prove they could touch something I care about."

"So your solution is to what? Die nobly? Make sure there's nothing left for them to use against you?"

"My solution is to make sure the world doesn't need me anymore." His thumb brushed across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "To make sure you don't need me anymore."

"That's not your choice to make. You don't get to decide what I need. You don't get to martyr yourself for some greater good and pretend it's for my protection."

"Then what would you have me do?" For the first time, there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "Ignore my responsibilities? Pretend I'm not who I am?"

"I would have you fight like you want to come back!" The words ripped from your throat. "Fight like there's someone waiting for you after. Fight like you love me as much as I love you!"

The confession rang out between you, and the moment it left your lips, you realized you'd never said it before. Through all the stolen moments, all the secret touches, all the nights you'd spent memorizing each other's bodies — you'd never actually spoken those words aloud.

You'd both danced around it, implied it in every action, every look, every unfinished sentence, but neither of you had ever dared to make it real with words.

Until now. Until you were angry enough, desperate enough, terrified enough to let it slip from your heart straight past your defenses.

"Love?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Of course I love you, you idiot." Your voice equally quiet. "Why else would I be standing here, begging the strongest sorcerer alive to be selfish just once?”

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, maybe a sob, his fingers tightening on you. "Don't," he whispered, and for the first time that morning, his voice was shaking. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Don't say things that make me want to—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "That make me want impossible things."

"Impossible? Since when does Satoru Gojo believe in impossible?"

"Since I realized being with you means putting you at risk." His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture achingly gentle. "Since I understood that staying alive isn't the same as keeping you safe."

"I hate this." You shook your head. "I hate how calmly you can stand here and talk about sacrifice like it's inevitable. Like there's no other way."

"Would you prefer if I fell apart?" His smile turned sad. "If I raged and cried and promised things I might not be able to keep?"

"Yes," you admitted, your hands coming up to cover his where they still held your face. "Because at least then I'd know you want to stay as much as I want you to."

"Oh, my love." The endearment fell from his lips like a confession. "Wanting to stay has never been the question. The question is whether I can live with myself if I do."

"And what about whether I can live with myself if you don't?" Your voice broke. "What about whether I can forgive myself for not fighting harder to make you stay?"

"This isn't your fight."

"Like hell it isn't." You pulled back. "You think I spent months learning to clear battlefields just so you could take center stage? You think I perfected my technique to complement your infinity because I had nothing better to do?" You dug your nails into your palms, throat tight with fury. "I've been fighting alongside you since before you ever kissed me in that hallway. Before you ever decided I was worth protecting. Don't you dare tell me this isn't my fight when I've spent years making sure you had the space you needed to be great."

He was quiet for a long moment, studying you. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. "And that's exactly why I need to go. The world doesn't need more people making space for me. It needs people who'll fill that space themselves."

You recoiled like he'd slapped you, hurt burning in your chest. "Is that what you think I've been doing? Making myself smaller for you? Made space for you because I was afraid to reach higher?" You stepped closer, deadly calm now. "I made space for you because that's what you do when you love someone."

His lips twitched into a smile. "So you do understand me."

"Don't pretend those are the same thing."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like goodbye. Like all the tomorrows you'd never have, all the moments you'd never share, all the promises neither of you could keep. You kissed him back with everything you had — all your fury and fear and love condensed into this one perfect, terrible moment.

His hands tangled in your hair like he was trying to memorize the feeling, yours gripping his jacket as if you could keep him here through sheer force of will. When you finally broke apart, hearts pounding, foreheads pressed together in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

"I'll hate you," you whispered against his lips. "If you don't come back, I'll hate you for the rest of my life."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, and for once, his smile held an edge of something raw, something that looked almost like pain. "No, you won't."

"I will." Your fingers tightened in his jacket. "I'll hate you for making me fall in love with someone who was always planning to leave. I'll hate you for every morning I wake up alone, for every mission briefing where someone else stands in your place, for every year I have to leave flowers on your grave."

"You'll move on. You'll find someone—"

"Fuck you," you cut him off, the words sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't you dare tell me how I'll feel. Don't you dare stand here and plan out my future without you in it."

"I'm just trying to—"

"To what? Prepare me? Make it easier? There's nothing easy about loving you, Satoru Gojo. There never has been. But I chose it anyway. Every day, knowing this moment would come."

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to say goodbye? Make it messy and painful and real?"

"I want you to stop pretending this is just another mission and show me something that tells me this is killing you like it's killing me."

The silence stretched between you like a chasm. For just a moment, beneath his careful composure, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the name — vulnerable, conflicted, maybe even afraid. But he buried it quickly, like he buried everything that might make him waver from his chosen path.

You'd always known this about him, hadn't you? Known it from that first bloody mission, from every fight where he'd put himself between the world and destruction.

Satoru Gojo was a man built for sacrifice, shaped by duty and power into something that could never truly belong to just one person. You'd fallen in love with him anyway, foolishly hoping that maybe love could be enough to make him choose differently.

But watching him now, seeing the gentle finality in every movement, you understood with crushing clarity that this was always how it would end. No amount of pleading or anger or love could change what he'd already decided.

He'd made his choice long before this morning, probably before he'd ever kissed you in that darkened hallway.

"Keep the tea warm for me," he said finally, stepping back. The words were casual, almost playful — exactly the kind of thing he'd say on any other morning. But that's what made it cruel. Even now, he was trying to soften the blow, pretending this was just another goodbye, just another mission.

You didn't say anything as he walked to the door. Didn't wish him luck or tell him to be safe. The time for those platitudes had passed.

Instead, you watched him pause in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. For a moment, you thought he might turn around, might drop the act and let you see something real. One last true moment before the end.

He didn't fully turn, but his voice carried back to you, soft and achingly sincere. "I love you. More than anything." A pause. "That's why I have to go."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You'd never expected them, had made peace with the silence between heartbeats where those words should have lived.

You'd imagined them differently, in all the quiet moments you'd shared — whispered against your skin in the dark, laughed into your mouth between kisses, murmured sleepily on lazy mornings. Not like this. Never like this.

How cruel, that he would finally say them now, when they felt more like a funeral rite than a confession. A parting gift from a man walking towards his own chosen end, making what should have been beautiful feel like another wound. The words you'd never dared hope for now hurt more than a lifetime of silence ever could.

Your throat burned with all the things you wanted to scream at him — about how love should mean staying, about how he was breaking your heart while trying to save it, about how dare he make those words sound like goodbye when they should have been a beginning.

"I hate you," you whispered.

He made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something more broken. "No, you don't." The certainty in his voice felt like another wound. "You love me. You said so yourself."

"I'll hate you." Your voice hardened with each word. "I'll hate you so much it'll make you wish you'd stayed."

His hand tightened on the doorframe, knuckles white with tension. For a heartbeat, you thought you'd finally cracked his composure. That he might turn around and choose you over duty, love over destiny.

He didn't.

The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded like an ending.

"But I'll wait for you anyway," you whispered to the empty room, hating yourself for the truth in those words.

The truth was, you'd always known it would end like this, known that loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who belonged to the world before he belonged to you.

But you'd been naive enough to hope. Foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, love could be enough to make him choose differently. That your selfish desire to keep him alive and whole could outweigh his selfless need to reshape the world.

The morning light cut across the empty room, highlighting the space where he'd stood moments before, and you wondered about the cruelty of it all.

Was it wrong to want to keep him here? To ask the strongest sorcerer alive to choose personal happiness over humanity's future? How many would suffer because you'd asked him to be selfish just this once?

But then again, how many had already been saved by him? How many times had he bled and broken and pieced himself back together for a world that only saw him as a shield, never as a man? Didn't he deserve the chance to live for himself, just once?

If love died today, buried six feet under noble intentions and greater goods, then maybe hate was all you had left. And wasn't there something pure in that? In hating him with the same intensity you'd loved him? In letting that hate fill the spaces he left behind, burning away the softness until all that remained was sharp edges and bitter truths?

The world needed Satoru Gojo the symbol, the untouchable god of jujutsu. But you'd needed Satoru, just Satoru, the man who brought you tea exactly how you liked it and kissed you like you were his everything. The man who was walking away, leaving you with nothing but memories and the taste of hate on your tongue.

Was it selfish to think your love was worth more than the world's need? Was it cruel to measure the weight of one heart against humanity's future?

Love and duty were never meant to be weighed against each other like this, weren't meant to be choices that tore a person in two. And perhaps that was the real tragedy — not that he was walking away, but that you'd let yourself believe he wouldn't.

You'd known how this story would end from that very first kiss. Had tasted it in every goodbye before a mission, felt it every time you waited anxiously for his return, seen it lurking behind every smile that never quite reached his eyes.

Loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who was always meant to be sacrificed. You'd just been naive enough to think sacrifice could look different, that it didn't have to end with you here, choking on love turned to ash in your mouth.

Your fingers traced your lips where those three words still lingered like a curse. The tea was getting cold on the windowsill. You should pour it out, make a fresh cup. Should start preparing for a world where Satoru Gojo was just a memory, a legend, a story of sacrifice and strength. Should learn how to breathe around the thorns growing in your chest where love used to live.

Instead, you stayed frozen, caught in the space between what was and what could have been. Because maybe he was wrong. Maybe the world didn't need someone stronger. Maybe it just needed him to come back. You certainly did.

But it was too late for maybes now. He was already gone, walking toward a destiny he'd chosen long before he'd chosen you. And you were left here, caught between hating him for leaving and loving him for exactly who he was — a man who would always choose the greater good, even when it shattered both your hearts.

But perhaps the cruelest irony was that in trying to protect humanity, he'd forgotten he was human too. That in becoming everyone's shield, he'd forgotten shields could break. That hearts could break. That yours was breaking.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, indifferent to your pain, indifferent to the way your world had just walked out the door with a smile and a promise he might not be able to keep.

You'd wait anyway. Even knowing how the story was meant to end, you'd wait. Because that's what love was — not just the beautiful parts, but the ugly parts too. The waiting. The hoping. The hating.

The choosing to love someone even when they choose something else. Even when that love turns to poison in your veins.

Even when they choose the world over you.

The tea had long gone cold when you finally moved, muscles stiff from standing still for so long. You'd sworn you wouldn't watch. Had promised yourself you wouldn't be there to see him die for his greater tomorrow.

But your hands were already reaching for your jacket.

Because that was the thing about loving Satoru Gojo — even when it turned to hate, even when it felt like acid in your throat, you couldn't look away. You'd watch him fight Sukuna. Watch him smile that infuriating smile as he chose the world one last time.

After all, you'd already promised to hate him if he didn't come back.

The least you could do was be there to keep that promise.

author's note — thank you for reading this little piece of heartbreak. i was very unsure if it will ever see the light of day but i finished it now bc i was in the mood for pain. if you enjoyed, i would greatly appreciate a reblog or comment. hope your heart isn't too broken <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[muleumpyo]

it's a large bed but somehow they always end up curled up together like this. after everything—all their near-misses and almost fatal injuries—being able to feel chan's heartbeat under his hand is sometimes the only thing that helps big fall asleep 💗

[screampied]

MATCH MY FREAK ?! ★

𝜗℘ feat. toji, gojo, nanami, geto, choso. ranking the jik men’s freaks ‘n how nasty they are.

warnings. fem! reader, unprotected, overstim, choking, dumbification, dirty talk, first time squırt, size kink, spıt kink, mommy kink, lactation fantasizes, finger sucking, fıngering, brēeding, praise, humping, manhandling, nıpple play

wc. 4.3k

TOJI FUSHIGURO ★

the nastiest — doesn’t have any shame whatsoever. with toji, all he ever has to do is have you bouncing on his lap over and over.

that annoying everlasting slash of a scar runs down the right side of his lip as his attention’s focused on some old western movie. “mhm, there we go. milk me or whatever,” and you pout. he’s not paying you any attention on purpose. one hand of his grabs onto your waist, another gripping his empty beer can. glancing down at your sloppy cunt, he snarls. “you sure do love makin’ a mess, huh. look at this,” and you moan, feeling him bring both hips of yours to an abrupt stop. as his heavy cock’s still plummeting into the velvet of your cunt, he lifts you up a few inches. “all this cum goin’ ‘ta waste. so sad,” and you shudder, watching as he swipes a thumb against your dribbling entrance. his own seed oozes out of you and he smears it, dragging a bit onto the print of his thumb. “my, my. nice ‘n fresh,” and with doe widened eyes, you watch as toji licks his finger clean. you felt yourself throbbing immensely, and then he gingerly wraps a hand around your neck. “don’t just stare, girl. y’er gonna get a taste too. open nice ‘n wide, goood.”

as you’re harshly jerking back and forth, hearing the raucous groaning creaks of the sofa rock continuously, your mouth sags opens. toji dangerously leans in, one hand knuckles deep into your slobbering cunt before he pulls it right back out.

“fuck, baby look at how sloppy you get,” and he swivels his fingers inside before removing them, gathering a nice amount of his dribbling cum. toji looks at you with a with a haughty expression, so obedient. mouth all open, needy breaths falling out, you couldn’t have been any more perfect. “yeaaah, curl that tongue up ‘n tell me how i taste.”

once he places two thickset digits inside of your mouth, you suck them clean whilst still moving against him.

your moans were now muffled due to his digits being shoved into your mouth — coating his thick fingers with your glistening, slick saliva. “mphh,” you whine, feeling his free hand creep down between your pried open thighs. toji’s staring at you with murky, hooded eyes as you’re still creating feverish friction. your tongue curls around his fingers and you savor the honeyed taste of his own cum swashing inside your mouth. you couldn’t describe the taste, bittersweet.

it was an entire mixture of bitterly sweet, almost no taste at all as the seconds past. toji’s big hand grips your cunt before he gives it a nice squeeze, watching your eyes roll back.

“god, y’r so fuckin’ nasty today, can’t even watch my movie without giving my girls some attention, huh,” and with his entire wrist, he spanks your cunt raw. “especially her, yeah you,” and his eyes flicker down at your sobbing pussy, not even staring at you anymore. “look at her tryin’ to talk back. too soaked though, shame.”

“t- tojiiii,” you pathetically purr out, the swatting smack against your folds giving you whiplash. as you attempt to speak, his fingers get pulled out of your lips, a long slimy-like trail of spit following and he glares at you. “gonna c-cum again.”

“you’re gonna be a messy girl when i tell you to be, baby,” he reminds you, and you could practically feel the milky ring forming around his base. from between your thighs, it’s so filthy.

sticky, each jolt you do on his lap by making haste with your hips has you feeling the stretchy strings of your own juices to his sloshing back and forth together. it’s filthy, you even have the audacity to try and sneak a hand between your thighs, hoping to touch yourself but he smacks it away. “girl, please. let’s not even go there.”

“but—”

“but nothin’. bend over,” and with a blink of an eye, you’re tossed on your back. you gasp, his quick movements barely giving you time to comprehend anything. first you were on his lap and now you were on all fours with your ass up in the air. you whimper, feeling him spank your left cheek before spreading it open.

with two broad hands, he dips his long tongue into your hole before cleaning out his cum with a single slurping lick. he wasn’t even fazed. you moan, shuddering from the stimulation and you’re oh so sensitive and he only makes it worse the moment he starts sucking you, cleaning you out from the back.

“aw, shaky are we? stay still, gotta clean you up silly girl. this cum doesn’t come for free.”

SATORU GOJO ★

satoru’s always been kinky — especially with you. one of his favorite things to do is to convince not only you but himself that he’s not a bottom. in the end, your hips always prove him wrong though.

reclined way back, he watches as your body grinds up and down against him, bouncy.

he groans gruffly, countless slender fingers grabbing ahold of your waist. your body’s movements were always so unpredictable, giving him a run for his money. “ah, ‘s fuckin’ good, baby. ride me jus’ like that, yeah. mhmm.” and you could hear the bratty strain in his voice. he huffs, snowy white strands sticking to his forehead like glue. your sopping wet cunt had a few loose strings of residue cum clinging near the crevices of your thighs and sticking to his. he just couldn’t get over how wet you were. satoru was heavily flustered, driving such thick inches into you. as he’s trying to keep up with his maddened pace — despite you doing all the work, you whimper from the outstretched girth. he reaches that spot and it messes you up every time.

fuck, it’s as if each thrust makes you feel him mold out your walls ten times more. he’s so big, the lazy curve on his cock had you feening for more. and if it was anything about satoru, it’s that he just wouldn’t stop talking. a blabber mouth, whining for you to go faster while at the same time, whining for you to go slower. “make up your mind, ‘toru,” you tease him, a slight tremor in your own voice. his heat entangles with yours and it’s so good.

the fervor, its steadily arising, mixing both individual pleasures as you grab onto his hand. a myriad of fingers intertwine amongst each other as you lewdly rock your body into his. god, it’s only been a few minutes, just a few minutes of yet another round and his eyes were already going back. so far back that you noticed the sexy flicker of white in his eyes paint his sockets a eerie new color.

“y- your hips, oh fuuuuck,” and he’s just slumped against the velvety sheets, feeling his heart beats pulse right through his ears. it’s loud, almost like a deafening beat to some sort of song. satoru’s jaw tightens as you’re preparing to milk him again for the third time. he’s panting like a dog before he suddenly spanks your ass. “mhm, baby,” he stammers out, meeting your gaze right away. you stroke his cheek, spotting the tiny pout pressing against his lips. panting laboriously, his lungs never felt more full. with a heaving sigh, he grabs your neck. “do that thing again, pleaseplease.”

you tilt your head, playing dumb. “do what?”

he groans, feeling his cock twitch inside from the sweltering warmth of your heated heat. taking a second to swallow, he huffs. “the thing, y’know,” and his white brows contort into a sheepish furrow. it’s adorable, it’s almost like he’s too embarrassed to say it. “s- spit in my mouth again, baby. wanna .. taste you.”

“fine,” you tease, wrapping a hand around his throat. he’s got the smuggest grin and your hips were gonna wipe it right off. satoru groans, watching you inch yourself closer, skin against skin, body against body, it’s so hot. with the way your cunt mercilessly drags itself against him, he felt like he about to melt. you gently scrape a thumb over his bottom lip, still rocking into him rigorously. “open your mouth, pretty boy.”

“heh, yes m- ma’am,” he swallows, getting turned on by your sudden authority. his dick pulses inside of you, curving all through your gummy walls with such intensity. he’s feral. satoru opens his mouth and you lean in, gathering a fair wad before watching it trickle down. he whines at the sweet taste of your nectar, feeling your fingers wrap around his throat and he’s just voluntarily wearing it like a necklace. “harder, choke me h- harder.”

scoffing, you tighten the grip around his neck and he moans. it’s a slutty moan, the kind of moan where it’s almost pornographic. “you’re such a brat,” you roll your eyes, almost forgetting he’s buried fat inches deep into your swollen cunt. your hips slow down its pace after a while as you’re still being your hips back and forth and he whines at your languid tempo. you give him a teasing smile, panting yourself before nibbling on his chin. “not satisfied, ‘toru?”

“mhm, no. even i could do better than that, baby,” he cheeses a grin and you lean in to kiss him. he grunts in your mouth, wet tongues sloppily sliding in sync and harmony. your hands start to wander near his bare chest, pinching his nipple and he groans. “h- hey! you kinky bitch.. heh do it again.”

SUGURU GETO ★

suguru geto’s the nastiest eater. it goes without saying. if he wants a taste, he’s gonna eat. doesn’t care what time of day it is, the meal between your thighs was always his favorite, hands down.

“s- suguuuu,” you’d breathe out, feeling each of your lungs ready to collapse. your breathing continued to become unsteady within each lewd second that passes. he’s nose deep, eating you out like a starved animal - saliva everywhere. it drips down the cracks of his lips and past his chin. your felt your voice go dry like the sahara as he’s stuffed right between your thighs. but with geto, more than anything, he loves eating you out whilst you’re still wearing panties. “fuck, ‘s sensitive still, suguru.”

“good, baby,” he rasps, flicking his tongue against the fabric, tasting against your pulsating clit. and oh, his flicks, as brief and thorough as they are, they turn sloppy. geto slurps you clean, treating your pussy like actual food. he’s so pretty too, lengthy long hair flowing down his broad tense shoulders. with your legs spread all out and open, you grab onto his hair, shoving his face closer against your heated core. “yeah, fuck my face. grind this nasty fuckin’ cunt against—mmphhh.”

he’s rudely cut off with how your pussy gets right into his mouth and his plump lips latch onto your arousal. there’s a cunning smile stretching against his lips and he finally peels away your pretty panties with his teeth, to the side.

you taste so sweet, his nose eagerly prods its way against your sopping wet slit, swiping the tip of his nose up and down like a credit card. you loudly whine, a familiar shakiness returning to your voice before your throat grows parched once more. “right there, p- please. don’t stop sugu, fuckfuckfuckkk.”

and your little cries only made him so much harder. not only did they make him hard but they fell on closed off ears. geto huskily grunts into your cunt — the timbre vibrations making you twitch into his mouth. he tastes it on his tongue, feeling you shiver right onto his tastebuds. as you’re drenching his chin with your wetness, he laughs right on your pussy. “c’monnn, baby. if you’re gonna pull on my hair at least do it right,” and he’s being cocky now. the grit in his voice turns you on and he reaches down to give his hardened cock a few pumps. spitting on the entrance of your cunt, shooting you a sly grin. “oh. what’s with the pout? i gotta pull my own hair?”

“s- shut up suguru,” you whine, feeling his hot breath fan against your clit. you’re so sensitive and you feel your back starting to arise, arching itself.

“make me, baby.”

and he chuckles before eating his words, eating your pussy, nearly gulping at the taste as his tongue swiftly maneuvers crazed circles against your stretched opening. you’re so wet that he could literally drown between your thighs. you’re dragging his face against your cunt and his smirk falters a bit the moment he feels himself close himself.

“s- shit,” he dryly laughs, giving your clit another chaste kiss. a cobwebby string of your translucent juices stick against his mouth as if its adhesive, sopping wet and sugary sweet. he’s nasty with his tongue, devouring you whole only to spit it right back onto your weeping pussy. “yeah, fuck my face, girl. don’t be shy, i like when ya get rough.”

not before long, you let out a shrilling orgasm, your vocal chords ripping raw as you gush all on his face. geto pats your pussy as if he’s telling it, telling it, telling her, ‘good job.’ he hums, giving it a final indecent suck before getting up. he’s lingering right over your twitching, defeated body, gawking at your dumbed down state before leaning in to kiss you.

his body, ripped and rough - tatted and burly, grinds against you before he slips two fingers inside of your pussy. “taste it,” he whispers, and you part your lips, throwing arms over his shoulders before relishing in your own juices. you were so dumb from him eating you out that it took you a while to realize he wanted you to kiss him, taste it that way. it was all on his tongue, once bitter now sweet and you take both of his fingers so easily. geto kisses you sloppily, exasperated breaths pouring into each mouth before he bites your lip. “turn around. wanna try a new position.”

“w- what position?” you heave, staring at him as you’re still breathless.

geto rolls his eyes, flipping you over himself. “the one where i put those useless legs of yours over your head. chop chop, girl. wanna test out that flexibility.”

CHOSO KAMO ★

“just .. lie back like that, mhm,” he’d coo, and you moan the moment he’s pressing his weight up against you. choso was warm, but his touch was even warmer. preposterously, his head’s spinning along with the mirroring subtle beats of his heart as he’s watching you flop down on your back. “m- may i?” he almost whines, so impatient—leaning in to nibble his teeth at your laced bra. you give him a nod and he almost moans. choso starts to feel a lake of saliva pool its way into his mouth as he’s now face first between your tits. his favorite girls, besides you. “so thirsty, ‘m gonna drink for a little.”

choso loved your breasts.

he also loved pretending milk would come out of them every time he latched his lips around your perky nipples.

“they always look s- so pretty for me.” he swallows the invisible lump in his throat, eyes peeping up at you. you give him a sheepish smile, holding his head upright and that’s when he shifts. choso grabs a nearby pillow, propping it right underneath his growing boner. softly, he unstraps your bra, letting it fall loose—not even bothering to fully take it off. it just hangs. as he gets a pillow, your brow raises before he starts to suck.

“f- fuck, ‘cho,” you whine out, feeling hot cloudy puffs of breath collide against your skin. you’re so sensitive, feeling a bit of teeth clash against each nipple. you could hear him breathing through his nose, irregular shattered breaths, slurping against each neglected tit. “that’s it baby, mhm, good boy,” and you feel a bit of movement. glimpsing down with blown irises, choso’s resolutely humping the pillow he brought between his legs. he’s whining, trying to bring attention to his heat but oh, the friction only makes it worse. he whimpers and whines with your tit in his mouth, lolling out his long tongue to savor your heavenly taste.

“ngh, m… mommy,” he babbles out, and he’s never called you that before. that was new, you felt your pussy throb behind your panties before he starts to ramble again and again. whenever he’s drunk off of you - he’s so talkative. “s- so good, ‘s sweet,” he grunts, his thrusts against the pillow turning more sloppy. it’s so hot that your skin practically sticks against the satiny sheets. and with choso, he’s just so fucking loud.

he can’t help it. he’s a whiner, straining his own voice at the expense of your syrupy taste. pretty sable lashes flutter against your skin as he’s still slurping each tit. he lowly groans, both hands wrapping around them both - gingerly fondling with each one. choso made sure to give each one all his attention, strands of sheeny crisscrossed drool trickling down past his lips, past his chin. “you’re bein’ messy, baby,” you hum softly, feeling him lean into your touch as you lift his chin up. a toothy love-drunk smile tugs against his lips as he stares up at you, reaching down to touch himself.

“s- sorry,” he hiccups, the speed of his hips accelerating. choso could barely even last because as he’s still got a mouth full of one of your luscious mounds, he gasps. it’s sharp, his breath gets stolen the moment he feels a certain dampness. it starts to coat the middle part of his darkened boxers, clenching his teeth in awe. “oh, ohmygod, ‘m cummin’, fuck.” and it’s so quick, he’s practically thrusting his hips into the pillow as if he’s actually fucking you. as he’s humping the pillow, he’s also humping your leg a bit, rutting back and forth until he whimpers. “s- shit, mommy ‘m makin’ a mess, fuuuuck me.”

as he’s still making out with your breasts, he glances at each nipple. all swollen and wet from his saliva. choso’s eyes almost roll back as he’s making a mess of himself, flustered entirely at the thought of cumming just from sucking on your tits. “mommy, huh?” you tease, running a thumb down his undercut as he buries his face into your chest. oh, he’s embarrassed.

“i.. i didn’t mean to call you that, ‘m sorry,” he grumbles, his voice almost inaudible with the way he’s just stuffed between your breasts. he’s still greedy though, licking and lapping his own shimmery spit that glissades down the crack of your chest. “soso sorry.”

“it’s okay,” you gently pull up his head, making him stare at you. he’s got a little pout, pretty pink lips curling into a downward scowl. “aw, you wanna suck them again, huh, choso?”

with a defeated nod, he sighs. “yeah, but- i just came ‘n i made a mess,” and your eyes peer down at his boxers with the faint grey stain exposing itself. so cute, choso lets out a tiny vexing puff of air before rubbing his neck in shame. “y- you made me cum jus’ from suckin’ on you.”

“don’t worry, ‘cho,” you purr, bringing him back toward your chest. your touch — so warm, he’d love to just stay like this forever. in your arms, sucking on your tits with the dumbest grin on his face, eyes closed. your words tenderly eased its way into his heart before you lie back, exhaling a drowsy sigh. he’s staring at you and he looks hungry, even still. choso’s panting, hovering over you so close that you feel the outline of his flaccid cock rub up against your thigh. “oh, you want more, don’t you?”

“n- no i want you,” he whimpers with a slight head shake, sprawling your legs apart. your eyes briefly widen at his gentle touch, feeling a few slender fingers ghost against your slavering cunt. choso kisses your right tit one more time, inching back up toward your face. “p- please.”

NANAMI KENTO ★

with nanami, he’s a freak in private.

after coming home from a long day at work, he just wants his pretty ‘lil wife. even a bonus, your sweet cunt that never fails to milk him dry every single time. “woah, love. don’t run from me, hey,” and his voice couldn’t have been any more smoother. you moan, feeling each stroke pivot its way so righteously into your soaked core. nanami watches with a coarse glint in his eye as you’re clinging onto the red-velvet sheets. your hands, they bawl within the fabric and you’re creating fists, not once releasing its tightening grip. his hips, they were simply hypnotic.

you’re feeling the stretching curve of his cock jackhammer into your drenched folds with such cinching effortlessness. mewl after mewl dies out of your throat as he’s making your drooling pussy beg for mercy. “don’t run, ‘m not done givin’ you a good fillin’ sweetheart,” and you could feel his hot cum pour its way out of your clenched hole. he’s already came inside before—but now, it was so much that it’s starting to spill out. dripping down your thighs and his favorite part is to just fuck it right back in. it’s so messy, you’re moaning out his name again and again as if it’s some catchy mantra. “atta girl, take it. taaake it.”

and you whine, your face practically being shoved into your pillow. softly though, the cottony fluff gets caught in your mouth and you let off a choking sob for more. “ken, mhhh, kento,” you croak, feeling him grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back. oh, he always knew how to fuck you just right. you’re a mess and he’s always liked whenever his women was a bit sloppy. you were never a match for his hips, albeit they struck you deep. his fat cock ruthlessly delves into your cunt even deeper though—churning up your insides, having you clench around him tight. your spit-slicked lips kink up into a ghostly ‘o’ and you feel yourself about to break yet again. “not gonna last again, ‘m gonna cum, ‘kento, fuuuck.”

“c’mon, wifey. wanna f- feel you,” he huffs, piercing the pearly edges of his teeth into your the left blade of your shoulder. blond strands of hair run down his face. it’s shiiiiny, tears of sweat pouring down the edges of his forehead. you whine before feeling nanami take a brisk moment to wrap his tie around your wrist, having you in a secure firm grasp. “mhm, good girl. so good, fuck back against me, milk me sweetheart. uh huuuh.”

everything’s so sloppy, not just his hips but your pussy too. you gasp, feeling a sudden coil within you snap.

nanami’s got you arched over, tongue lolled out and eyes rolled back. just what he needed after a eight hour shift. your cunt always brings him the relaxation he needs, he could just live in it. you could barely even speak a proper sentence without a babbling cry wrenching out of your piteous vocal chords. “kento, i- i feel like ‘m gonna,” and you pause, another sharp gasp exiting out of your lungs. your lungs shake, teeth shattering and ears ringing before you feel a sudden gush. its impact has you delirious — you shake violently on his cock like a crazed animal before your jaw dangles open.

nanami groans, his own cock twitching inside before he realizes what happened. he hums, slowing his jagged hips down before caressesing your ass. he takes a moment, letting off a phew before relishing the sight of you bent over and on all fours for him. “oh, my oh my,” he murmurs in a soft gruff tone. its gruffness underneath makes you throb at least a million times. you’re an entire mess, spasming underneath him with his own heat sticking against yours. inches fucking deep, he brings a plump padded thumb towards your swollen cunt before leisurely pulling out. with a pop, he’s finally out of your sticky, greedy pussy. you’re drenched—clenching around nothing now and you can’t help but pout. as you’re still coming undone, he stares in awe at how you’re just coating the sheets entirety with your new sweet. you’re spraying out still as the seconds by and he can’t help but hum, a tender feeling waning its way into his heart — and an even more tender feeling warming its way between his legs. “my love, i didn’t know you were the squirtin’ type.”

your chest slumps back into the mattress from the literal nirvana you felt and you moan in ecstasy. with your orgasm still making its appearance, you feel a compacted tightening sensation within you snap.

it feels so good, soso good that your vision’s currently mainly made up of splotches of achromatic, bland colors. everything’s hot. dementedly, you shake underneath him before you feel his hand ghost down your spine. “k- kento, i—”

“shhh, let’s not speak right now, my sweet,” he shushes you, and you moan at the feeling of his fingers leisurely smearing your own candied juices back into you. your body couldn’t stay still and you’re just left there with your mouth hung open - brows curling together at the straight euphoria you just endured. “let’s hear what my other girl’s got to say,” he hums, and before you knew it, you’re flipped over, legs sprawled out with your tits bouncing from the unforeseen movement.

with fawn, gentle eyes staring straight at your soddened wet cunt, nanami licks his fingers clean before going up close to it. “she’s as wet as ever,” he whispers against your slit, giving it a kiss.

immediately, his lips were now glazed with your natural gloss. you’re breathing heavily each second at a time before yanking on his mousy, silk strands. “mhm, that’s it, get a nice pull,” and you moan once he lightly spanks your cunt, your legs growing limp and about to close. “gonna see how much wetter she can get for me,” and he whistles against your pussy, still staring at her and not you, you shudder from his breathy blow.

“isn’t that right, pretty?”

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji coming home late from a job, exhausted and knowing he messed up with you, again. All he wants is to be comforted by your warm body and to hear you talk his ear off before going to bed together, but instead he finds you fast asleep on the couch. He watches your curled up frame for a minute or two, feeling the achey heaviness of guilt in his chest. He promised you a movie, but things at work didn't go as smoothly as they normally do, and because of it, he's home later than he thought he would be. He doesn't blame you at all for losing your patience and succumbing to your tiredness, rather than fighting it, for his sake.

He smiles softly, admiring the bliss in your features, before quietly heading off to the bedroom to grab some clothes so he can tidy up before he even thinks about touching you.

Toji sees your shower products next to his, and though he doesn't plan on putting them on, like he has before in a state of longing for you, he does pick them up to take a whiff. The smells are as sweet and comforting as you. They help him wind down a little more after the day he's had. Your shampoo and body wash managed to distract him a bit. He stood there frozen, thinking of you as water cascaded down his body, until he remembered that you're in the house, sleeping on the couch, still waiting to see him. He expedites his shower, quickly gets dressed, and hurries up with his hygiene routine so he can get back to you.

When Toji returns, you're in a new position with your limbs all sprawled out. He watches you for another minute or so— you are the image of pure comfort on that old couch. Just being next to you could pass on the effect to him, but you're so enticing, and he really wants to be in that bubble of serenity with you. Before his proper judgement convinces him to carry you to bed, he's crawling between your legs, his eyes on yours the entire time, to make sure he doesn't wake you before he even starts adding his weight onto you.

Your sleep ridden eyes feel heavy as you peer them open and look at the man nuzzling himself into you. You hear the smallest little groans, almost like purring, as Toji continues to try and mold his body into yours. He knows he doesn't fit with you on this tiny couch, but you're so warm, and you smell like the body wash he inhaled in the shower. He's going to make it work.

"Hey, Toji," you mumble, dazedly, still half asleep. He almost melts at the feeling of your fingers running through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp with every passing. Your other arm comes up to rest on his back. He then realizes he's not close enough. Being right on top of you, with his head on your chest... Not close enough.

"What?" You laugh when Toji starts shifting again, those soft hums returning as he presses himself into you even more. He wants to be greedy and take all the comfort you can possibly give him. "Did you..." you giggle when he settles, his face buried in your neck. "Did you miss me?"

"Miss" is an understatement. Toji was ready to come home and cozy up in bed with you. He was ready to distract you from whatever movie you decided on, with kisses. He was ready for things to evolve into something more. He thought about this all day, and he's home now, and it's not at all what he thought it would be. The sad part is, you're not even mentioning these ruined plans. You're not upset with him for being home so late, you're not giving him the cold shoulder. You're the same loving girl he discussed these plans with in the morning and it makes him feel like a total asshole.

"Mhm. Are you comfortable sleeping like this? I can't move."

"Yes, Toji," you respond, immediately, though you know he's exaggerating. The question lures a soft laugh out of you. "You're acting like this is the first time you've ever plopped yourself down on me."

"Just making sure, doll, 'cause I don't wanna move," he says, with total honesty this time.

"You don't have to. You're the warmest blanket in this house. I scored by getting crushed."

"Yeah? I'm flattered." You can hear the smirk in his voice so clearly.

"And i'm flattened."

Silence. Crickets in the background. Everything is so still, you could hear a pin drop, and to make matters worse, you laughed at your own joke.

"I should go back to sleep," you say, knowing that when your nonsensical thoughts start spilling out, it's time to get some rest.

Toji's grin has yet to straighten out. He can tell you're still tired. He laughs, a sharp breath through his nose, at your ridiculousness. "Silly girl. Are you cold?"

"Impossible. I have a bear on top of me."

"Want me to go get the blanket? Wanna go to the room?"

"Stooooop, i'm fine." You kiss to the top of his head. "Goodnight, Toji."

"Can you do that thing you always do?"

Without a word, your hand goes to the back of his head, and your fingers begin coursing through his hair, again, your nails dragging gently along his scalp, like before.

Toji sighs, contented and entirely at ease. "'night, doll."

[princessbrunette]

In need fathers day with baby daddy rafe, pretty pretty please princess 💕

ᘏ ⑅ ᘏ   ഒ    zᶻ

you always felt nervous going to tannyhill. not that you felt unwelcome, everyone in his life made it clear that rafe’s baby was of utmost importance to them — so with that came the kind and supportive treatment toward you. however, you couldn’t help but feel like a burden. if rafe wanted to be around you and his kid 24/7, he would do so — hell, he’d get back with you. due to feeling like this, your palms were all sweaty by the time you’d reached the front door, card tucked under you and baby carrier weighing down your arm.

he looks surprised to see you when he opens the door. still in his shirt and slacks, it’s clear to you that rafe had buried himself in work today. it only then occurs to you that father’s day might be difficult for him, giving his circumstances at all. you inwardly wince.

“uh, hey.” he eyes you, itching his cheek and peering into the baby carrier.

you clear your throat, bashfully holding out the card. he takes it in silence and you place the carrier down, picking up your sleepy baby and holding her to your chest. “happy father’s day, daddy.” you smile, voice soft as to not disturb your child too much. he softens a little, blinking.

“that today?” he breathes and you stiffen a little. surely he knew?

“uh, yeah. we got you a card, wanted to let you spend some time with her today if you’re not too busy.”

“if i’m not too— listen i’m never too busy to see my kid okay? or you. i’m— i’m never too busy to… see my family… and stuff.” it’s awkward, the sentiment too soft for his liking and he looks down, staring at the sweet, milk-plumped angel in your arms. “let me…” he reaches out and takes her, her fat little fists immediately stretching for him and curling into the material of his shirt making your heart swell. he was always oddly a natural at this, handling her so well. it always filled you with a strange kind of sadness, one that regressed you slightly to something more scolded and childlike because your own father hadn’t offered you that same generosity. yet, you were thrilled your baby would receive that love even if you weren’t together with her father.

“come in, please.” he stands aside, holding the door for you before picking up the carrier in his other hand— effortlessly walking it with the baby to the living room. “you walked here?” he converses, setting the carrier down and placing the baby back inside, crouching down to stroke her tummy with the side of his finger.

“took the bus. no way im walking with that heavy thing.” you chuckle quietly and he swivels his head to glance at you.

“should’ve told me you were coming i would have got you. y’know i really don’t like you getting on the bus with her, it’s not safe alright, there’s all kinds of lunatics out there.”

“we survived.” you shrug, and there’s a short silence before he stands up, reaching for the card and opening it up. you fiddle with the hem of your dress awkwardly. you never quite knew what to do around rafe these days.

you watch as he reads the contents. ‘to daddy, thanks for being the best and always looking after me. can’t wait to be able to tell you myself how much i love you.’ you sign it off as your daughter, but his eyes linger over it, your sweet handwriting scrawled around the brightly coloured paper — almost for a moment like you were saying it yourself.

“and before you ask, yes she said all of that herself.” you joke to ease the tension and he snaps out of it, looking up at you with a chuckle.

“our little wordsmith, huh?” he smirks, wandering over to the mantelpiece and displaying the card. it filled you with some kind of pride, though it wasn’t about you. “look uh…” he strokes his jaw, glancing over at the baby. “let me take you both out for dinner, yeah? my treat.”

“your treat? rafe its father’s day, we’re supposed to be treating you—”

“i know, alright but… i’m supposed to be looking after you, right? looking… looking after you both.” he corrects himself, walking closer to you until he was basically looming over you, eyes wide. “and— and i know this is a hard day for you too, alright— shit, it’s a hard day for me. gotta bond as a family at some point, you know that right?”

you nod, feeling a weight off your shoulders a little at the way the tension fizzles out.

“you sure? i don’t wanna take up your time—”

your incessant apologising makes his eyes flutter in irritation and he takes your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him as he ducks his neck down to be more at your level.

“you’re not… yeah? you’re not. so quit.”

you blink all dumb, not realising how badly you missed his hands on you even if it was just as an innocent gesture and you nod, not trusting your voice. you try not to overthink the way he leaves his hands there for a moment as he glances over at your baby, thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheekbone for a second before pulling away and patting his pockets. “has she slept?”

your brain malfunctions so it takes you a second, but soon you choke out a “y—yeah. had her afternoon nap she’s just still waking up.”

“good. i know somewhere quiet, got a host there who owes me a favour.” he strides to the carrier and lifts it before turning back towards you, blinking at you obviously. “well are you coming or— or what?”

“yeah. yes. i’m coming.”

ᘏ ⑅ ᘏ   ഒ    zᶻ

[katerinathesaint]

stanford!subby!art x f!reader blurb? (probably too long to be a blurb)

warnings: smut, comfort, aftercare!!, slight dumbification?, handjob😁, pet names (sweet boy, baby), slight au bc art and reader live a nice apartment together and it has a spare bedroom that patrick uses sometimes, sub and dom themes, art being sad (the usual), arts foot catching strays, bad writing.

synopsis: arts having a rough day and just wants to relax:((, which you gladly help him with.

a/n: guys this is so rushed i know it’s bad please don’t yell at me or ill cum and cry at the same time please spare me there’s a reason i don’t right long blurbs or fics😖😖😖

Art should’ve just stayed in bed that day. It started off blissfully; he woke up, his arms wrapped around your waist and his nose nuzzled into your neck whilst you slept peacefully. His favorite place to be.

From there, it just all went down hill. When he got out of bed to head to the large bathroom you shared, he stubbed his toe on the doorframe, immediately letting out a quiet grunt of pain and a nearly silent ‘fuck’ and ‘god dammit’.

A little later, after his morning shower and such, he tried making breakfast; tried. His hand reached for the pan he was going to use to cook some eggs for breakfast; some protein before a long day of practice sounded good.

Except, the handle slipped from his fingertips and the pan immediately fell onto his foot, then slammed onto the hardwood floor. He leaned against the kitchen counter for stability, as he cradled his now injured (a small bruise formed later) foot.

Art had prayed that the loud ‘BANG’ didn’t wake you. Sometimes, you were a deep sleeper, other times you weren’t. Luckily, it didn’t seem to have waken you; not enough for you to walk in, at least.

Arts day went on that way for the next 10 hours. Once he made it to the courts, after almost being hit twice while driving there, his coach immediately made him warm up.

The practice that day was grueling, Art wanting to do nothing except to pass out in your arms. It was obvious his coach had a stick up his ass and decided to run all the players of their energy, including Art. Not that he had much energy to begin with.

Finally, after a long ass day of shitty luck, Art made it back to your shared apartment. Patrick’s car wasn’t there, meaning he was probably at some girls place for the night; shocker. He prayed you were still awake. Considering the time, you should be, but every now and again he’d come home to you napping peacefully.

Art walked in, the bag on his shoulder immediately dropping to the ground by the door. He walked a little further, his spirits lifting when he sees you wide awake, watching some tv show.

You turn your head when you hear the shuffling, lighting up at the sight of your boyfriend, and your facing curling in worry after clocking the dejected look on his face.

Art plopped down on the couch, his body slotting in between your legs as he snakes his arms around your waist, letting out a sigh.

You knew Art needed you. You could just feel it. You carded your fingers through his curls softly; the tenseness leaving his body slowly.

“What’s the matter, sweet boy?”

Art lifted his head, locking his gaze onto yours. You could see the exhaustion in them. Poor baby.

“Jus’ need you,” He slurred.

Figures. Too dumb to do anything. He needs you to do it for him.

“Tell me what you need, baby. Use your words.” You encouraged.

Arts brows immediately scrunched together, as he slowly shook his head, “I don’t know, I jus’ need you s’bad.”

Usually, you would push for more, knowing he can use his words. But you couldn’t help but pity him.

“C’mon, up.” You sit up from your spot, Art reluctantly lifting up as well. You drag him by his hand to the bedroom, leaving him standing by the bed as you lay back against the pillows and headboard. Art awaited your instruction.

You speak a quiet ‘c’mere’, Art immediately understanding your minimal language. Art layed himself against you between your legs, your chest against his back. You helped Art tug his shirt off, your hands quickly finding themselves running up and down his toned chest, your lips leaving soft kisses and nips at his neck.

He tilted his neck to side to give you more, letting out soft whimpers at the feeling. He bucked his hips, the boner in his shorts now extremely obvious. You nipped at his ear, the bucking becoming more frequent as he tried to gain some type of friction. Your fingers met the waistband of his shorts, lifting it before letting it snap back against his skin.

“Take them off,” You purred into his ear, his hands quick to move his shorts and boxers off. You remove your shirt that you had been wearing, no bra underneath. Your perky nipples met his back when he leaned against you again, his throat bobbing as he let out a soft moan.

His pretty dick, hard and leaking, was in need of attention, that much was obvious. “What do you say, Artie?”

“Please, please,” The boy was nearly in tears, his body squirming under you as your hand got closer to his throbbing cock. “Please, i’ve been so good, i’ll be good, just- please.”

How could you ever deny him after that? Your cold hand grasped his cock at the base, slowly sliding it up until it reached the tip, where you squeezed a little, just for the already leaking tip to leak a little more. Art threw his head back against your shoulder, letting out a loud moan.

You spread the pre over his tip, his moans getting louder. The noises he let out were just so pretty, you could listen to them 24 hours straight if you wanted.

Your hand found a quick rhythm, languidly sliding up and down his pretty cock, as you whispered sweet praises into his ear and soft kisses to his neck.

“You’re doin’ so good f’me, baby.”

Art was getting closer to his release the harder and faster you stroked, his grunts and moans getting louder. You knew for fact your panties were soaked under your shorts.

You could feel Arts body tensing up, his cock throbbing in your hand, “It’s okay, baby. Let go f’me. Let go.”

That’s all he needed to hear from you before letting out a pornographic moan, his back arching as his cum shot out onto your hand and his stomach. It went on for a few more seconds; Art always had big loads.

As he came down from his high, you peppered sweet kisses along his neck and up his jaw, before moving his body to the side.

His hand snatched your wrist as you lifted yourself from the bed, “Please, don’t go. Please,” He begged.

“Just gonna clean you up, baby.” You pressed a soft kiss to his head before grabbing a clean washcloth and running it under warm water. You brought it back, cleaning up Art and your hand before throwing it in the hamper.

Art didn’t care to get dressed after any type of intimacy, as he claimed it would break said intimacy. You slipped your shorts off and changed into a clean pair of panties, as your other ones were soaked.

You climbed into bed, dragging Art under the covers with you.

“Feel any better?” You asked.

Art simply looked at you and smiled before pressing a long kiss to your lips.

“I feel perfect.”

Good. That was your goal. You and Art feel asleep peacefully, cuddled up into each other’s arms. Thank god you helped him relax.

[mingtinys]

" i'm not stopping until you smile "

pairing : lee seokmin x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.6 k

a/n :still not sure how i feel about the ending on this one

Sometimes it feels like the universe is actively out to get you. Like for some reason, whatever Gods above have chosen you as the perfect target for their cruel jokes as a cure for their boredom.

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong, had.

Your coffee spilled first thing in the morning, scorching your skin and ruining your uniform. The back left tire of your car was flat, forcing you to take the morning train. Which you missed due to your coffee incident. Work was hectic, your boss on your ass about anything and everything, and for some reason, every customer came in with a personal vendetta against you and you alone. And to top it all off, some creep wouldn't stop making comments at you on the train back home.

You're so desperate to just curl up in bed and hide from the world that you forgo the thought of dinner or cleaning like you had planned all together.

For what feels like hours, you lay there. Until the sun falls in the sky and your room fades into darkness. Unwilling to move even an inch to flip a light on or check your phone. Your apartment stays dead silent. Eventually, you hear the front door open and shut, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching closer. They pause just outside your bedroom door.

"Baby, are you in there?" Comes a voice, one so soft you nearly burst into tears from the sound of it alone. "I'm coming in, okay?"

The knob turns and in comes Seokmin, illuminated by a halo of light that pours in from the hallway. He takes one look at you and frowns. "Are you okay?" He asks, setting your spare key and his phone on your dresser before sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I got really worried when you weren't answering after work," he continues. "What happened?"

"It's fine, Seok," you sigh, already feeling like a burden on him. "But it's been a long day and I just really want to handle it alone, okay? I'm sorry you came all the way here."

He just stares at you, sad eyes searching your face for some type of answer. You feel like you've just kicked a puppy asking him to leave, but it's best this way. Seokmin's heart is far too soft, ready to soak up every ounce of negative emotion it can for him to bear the weight of. And you hate seeing Seokmin sad.

"You don't have to handle it alone though, that's what I'm here for." You really wish you could return his cheery optimism and put him at ease, but instead, you simply turn in your cocoon so you won't have to face his disappointed expression. Yet somehow, that doesn't deter him.

Whereas anyone else probably would've up and left by now, Seokmin simply scoops you up into his arms, blankets and all. He starts pressing wet, sloppy kisses all over your face before you can voice a single protest. Even when you attempt to hide from the barrage of affection in his chest he doesn't let up.

"Seokmin!" You whine, palms coming up to shield your face. He just laughs and easily pulls your wrists away, looping them behind his neck before pressing two more pecks to each cheek. Seokmin leans back to examine your face.

"I'm not stopping until you smile."

"I appreciate you trying but–"

Yet another merciless attack befalls your face, this time with exaggerated mwuahs for good measure. Though every few kisses, Seokmin mutters small, sincere 'I love yous' that begin to chip away at the walls you'd so desperately tried to construct.

So when your boyfriend finally pulls back for a second time he begins to beam with pride at the lopsided smile ghosting your lips. "There it is," he coos, softly lifting your chin with his thumb. "Now tell me, what almost stole my favorite sight in this world from me?"

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

[sadreligion]

ε❤︎︭з ׅ TOP OF THE MORNIN’ ‿ ⠀ 𝆬 ⠀. feat. dealer!chris sturn.

──ㅤ disgustingly lazy & sleepy morning sex with chris. ᘓ ֹ ⁎ ᣞ ♱

early signs of sunrise peek through the sheer white curtains adorning your bedroom windows, a sad attempt to keep the outside world just exactly that. a heavy arm is lazily wrapped around your bare waist, you and chris’ limbs messily sprawled out against the soft sheets. it was far from unusual for chris to sleepover— his dropoffs somehow always closer to your house than his own. he’d be too drained to drive back, images of your soft face that live in his mind only convincing him further to come see you.

you’re first to wake up, eyes opening as a sleepy, incoherent murmur leaves your chapped lips, your body snuggling deeper into his chest. the sound of your voice seems to stir chris as well, his warm fingers squeezing the supple skin of your hip. “mornin’….” his groggy voice travels to your ear, his lips pressing a chaste kiss on your hairline.

chris’s eyes flutter open as you repeat the greeting, his body enveloping your own, his head buried into your neck. light, airy kisses are pressed against your caramel skin, his tongue peeking out every so often. “wanna stay in bed all day… jus’ us..” you mutter, your short, french acrylics coming to thread through his brunette curls, scratching at his scalp. a grin spreads across his face, the thought of being wrapped up in his favorite girl all day making his body buzz with desire & affection. his kisses become slightly more sloppy as he speaks in between pecks.

“mmm…. wish i could. i gotta drop off sumthin’ a lil’ later, mama. m’all yours right now, though..” chris hums, the slender fingers on your hip moving to toy with the waistband of your panties, his kisses trailing upwards to your jaw. a low huff leaves your throat as he carefully dips his hand underneath the material, his middle & ring fingers immediately sliding through your slick folds.

“always so wet… fuck..” he practically groans, his digits easily pushing into your entrance, velvety walls encasing them. the slight goatee on his chin scratches against your skin as his lips find yours in an slow, uncoordinated kiss.

chris’s fingers begin to move, each stroke slowly deepening, leaving you breathless. something similar to a mewl escapes you when the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, tight circles massaged into the bundle of nerves. “chris, ah… so good.. feels so good..” you whimper against his lips, fingers of your own softly tugging at his hair. a wave of satisfaction washes over chris at your praise, his dick straining against his plaid boxers at the fact that he’s the only one who can make you feel this way.

the moment his fingers hit that spongy spot he’d been searching for, moans & cries of the dealer’s name fall from your mouth left and right, your hips bucking into his hand. “i know, baby… mhm.. y’close huh?” chris asks teasingly, the proof obviously in the pudding. you nod almost immediately, your pussy clamming down onto his digits as you whimper. it just felt amazing— the mixture of his fingers plunging into you, the wet kisses to your lips, just everything.

unfortunately, it’s cut short, chris pulling his pruning fingers out, wiping your sticky arousal onto the plush of your thigh. a pout makes way to your flushed face, brows knitting together in confusion as he sits up on his knees. “…. why’d y’sto—” you meekly start, insantly getting cut off by chris, his hands moving to tug his boxers down. “shh, pretty girl…. i gotchu, ‘kay? don’t start that whinin’ shit… too early..” he scolds lightly, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before pulling his underwear all the way off, doing the same to yours. his length slaps against his stomach, the lewd ‘thwack’ sound making you moan involuntarily.

“spread y’legs f’me, mama…. there ‘ya go..” he murmurs, a look of admiration taking over his baby blues as you listen. chris takes himself in his palm, pumping leisurely before pressing his leaky tip to your hole, slowly feeding you inch by inch.

he digs his head back into your neck, the pleasure overwhelming as your cunt swallows him whole. “fuuuucck… pussy’s squeezin’ me so tight…” chris huffs, his eyes closing as he slowly thrusts in and out of you. scratch marks decorate his back as you run your nails down his skin, the welts adding to the level of euphoria he’s feeling right now. you moan desperately in his ear, your eyes practically rolling back into your head. “oh my god… jus’ like that… don’t stop, please don’t stop..” you beg, that familiar knot in your tummy so close to snapping.

chris’s lips wrap around your skin, sucking a dark red hickeys onto your throat, his pace becoming sloppy. “gonna come, baby… mmm.. come wit’ me, yeah? c’mon, y’can do it..” he encourages, his words doing just the trick to push you over the edge. a guttural groan leaves him as he fills you up, his seed mixing with your juices, arousal dropping onto the now soiled sheets. what a morning.

© SADRELIGION.

˖ㅤㅤ ֗ ㅤㅤ ࣭ ㅤ ⋆ㅤㅤ ۪ㅤ﹢ㅤ ࣪ ㅤ NOTES! okay omg, why am i nervous?? this is my first blurb (?) on here & i’m geeked asf to share it with you guys. i’ve been wanting to make a tumblr for a while and i finally did so, amen! also, if you can tell i rushed tf outta the end, SHUSH! okay, rlly hope you guys like it, enjoy! <3

[blackkwidowed]

Imagine kissing Nats bruises and scars after a mission and just being soft and showing her so much love.

I just wanna give Nat a hug tbh

just the entire concept of nat finding it so hard to be vulnerable around anyone but you is both heartbreaking yet the softest most adorable shit ever. here's a little drabble. some darker themes here as well i guess. also, best friend bucky? you got a taste of that here as well. also haven't proofread so sorry

•

When the few team mates arrive back off a mission, there's a dark, almost sad, atmosphere among them. Natasha, Bucky, and Clint had gone together for a few days to track something down. They'd come back early, empty handed, bruised, beaten down and overall, unsuccessful.

Natasha had looked the most upset. She hadn't been crying or anything, she just looked glum. She looked like she'd seen something no one wants to see.

Immediately you say your hellos to everyone, glad that they made it back safely and in once piece- albeit a few bruises and minor injuries. Something had happened out there.

You pull Natasha into your arms and there's something about the way she relaxes and sinks against you that makes your concern skyrocket. Fingers running through her hair, you cup the base of her skull in your hand and bring the other to her cheek for her to look at you. "What happened, my love?"

She sighs, the kind of sigh that speaks for itself.

"We found a group of kids. They'd all been locked up by these asshole guys we were trying to find. They'd been brainwashed. Beaten. Taken from their families and forced into whatever the hell kind of project that's been lined up for them."

You flinch, closing your eyes and repeating Natasha's sigh from before. You understand now.

"Got jumped by some security who've had training from God knows where. Good enough to get some hits in, put it that way." She cranes her neck a little, moves her hair out the way, enough to show the budding purple mark under her ear that's making it way across her jaw. "Powerful bunch, these guys. We're gonna need some more planning before we go back in there."

You nod in agreement, tracing your finger gently across the mark and pressing a soft, barely there kiss to the skin.

"Are you okay?" It comes as a whisper, gentle and only just loud enough for her to hear it. "I mean, I know you're not okay as such just. What do you need?"

She smiles gently at you, pushing herself closer to you again and resting her nose in the crook of your neck. "This is good."

You press a kiss to the side of her head, looking up at the guys who're now sat at the breakfast bar of the kitchen, also looking on like they've seen a ghost. You can't help but feel sorry for whatever they've seen, it takes a lot to have them left feeling like this.

You send Nat to your room, telling her you'll be up there in a moment and to get changed out of her suit. Quickly, you make your way over to the boys and rest a hand on each of their shoulders. "You need anything you know where I am, alright?"

They thank you thoroughly, Bucky even slinging an arm around your waist and squeezing lightly as a thank you. "Take care of her, yeah? I think, maybe, she's reminded of everything she went through. It's hit her, this one. Just take care of her."

Bucky's smile is laced with pain, heartache. You don't see him like this often either. You nod at him. "Of course."

-

What you find in your room is enough to make you angry. Nat's got a fair few bruises, and it makes you want to track down the bastard(s) that managed to leave such a mark on her soul.

She's sat on the end of the bed, glancing over the hand shaped mark on her arm where she'd been grabbed and thrown just hours earlier. She's not even mad that she let her guard down. Normally she'd be upset with herself, but she can't think about it.

You perch at the head of the bed against the pillows, beckoning her over in a gentle tone. She settles into your side and curls an arm around you tightly, as if she's frightened you'll leave. It only makes you grip her tighter.

Peppering gentle kisses to the side of her face, she sighs in relief and sinks somehow deeper into you, nuzzling into your neck. You're warm, familiar, comforting, you're everything she needs in a time of need.

"Thank you," she whispers against your skin.

"For what, baby?"

"Being here when I need you."

You smile softly, raising a hand to her face and brushing your fingers across her cheek. You kiss her softly, slowly, so gentle she has to pull you even closer so you'll kiss her firmer. Your lips move against hers and it might just be the highlight of Natasha's day, feeling you like this.

"You don't ever have to thank me. You know that's what I'm here for." You continue stroking her cheek, down her neck, and back up. Touches like this are her favourite. It warms her heart when she remembers the bruise on the side of her face, and the fact that your touch is so gentle against her skin that the contact with the bruise doesn't bother her even a little bit. "I love you."

Natasha hums softly, moving to lay on top of you now. She kisses you again, whispering against your mouth. "I love you."

You hold her close, hands running across her hips, fingers trailing up her back. She lays on you, nuzzled in and as close as possible. You don't ever want either of you to move, this is where you're content. This is your happy place.

She's relaxed now, happier, and you know today's at the back of her mind still but for a moment, she can forget about it. She feels safe now, comforted. You're her happy place, her everything, her lifeline. To her, you make it worth it.

"Get some sleep for me okay?" You murmur into her hair.

You feel her nod against where she lays on your chest. "Only if i can stay here."

You give a soft laugh, rubbing a hand up her back and tangling into red hair. "Always."

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One TwentyNine

Steve strokes Eddie’s back slowly, firmly, trying to work out the last of his shivers. He’d downed the hot milk pretty much in one go and then clambered straight onto Steve to snuggle on the couch. The first record off the stack is playing, Led Zeppelin.

By the time the final strains of Stairway to Heaven fade out, Eddie feels much more settled under Steve’s hands, his breathing slow and even, his body more relaxed, “want me to flip it?”

Eddie shakes his head, hair tickling Steve’s chin, “no, again?”

“You like that huh?”

Eddie nods, shifting so Steve can stand and swing the needle back out to start the record again.

“You want to talk about it?” Steve asks as they're getting into bed. He’s pretty sure Eddie now knows all the words to Stairway to Heaven.

“The shower?” Steve nods, “I was...in the tank. For little bit. I don’t know,” Eddie shrugs, like that’s all there is to it.

“And you feel okay again now?”

“Yeah...just...tired,” Eddie gives Steve a smile, but it looks kind of sad to Steve.

The turbulent grey sky flashes red, but there’s no thunder. It’s silent here, but for the creak of wood under Steve’s feet. He lets them carry him forward, the mirror reflection on the lake almost blending with the sky in the distance, the horizon a confusion of swirling clouds.

The dock ends, Steve’s toes wriggling on the edge, he stares at his left foot; lets all five toes curl over the edge of the rough wood. His eyes are drawn to movement, emerging from the reflection of the sky, coalescing from the swirls and flashes of red; a face. Eddie’s pale face.

It takes a moment for him to break the surface tension of the water, it clings for a second, like a film before it breaks and flows away. Steve doesn’t startle, it’s just Eddie. He looks...more Eddie though, somehow. His eyes bigger, darker, like they take up half his face. Cheekbones too sharp, black hair slicked back by the water, accenting the...odd shape of his head.

Long pale fingers break the surface of the water, black curved claws trail across the top of Steve’s foot, the cold wet grip tightening on Steve’s ankle.

Steve takes a deep slow breath, unable to look away from Eddie’s eyes and the red flashes reflected in their dark depths.

Steve’s ready when Eddie yanks.

Steve thrashes when he wakes up, just for a second. He never hit the water in his dream, but he drags in a deep desperate breath anyway. He feels for Eddie, but finds nothing. Stretching further, he confirms the bed is empty. Empty and cold.

Steve gets up, socked feet quiet on the floor boards. He walks through the cabin, flicking on a couple of lights as he goes. There’s not exactly much to look at, the cabin only really has the bedroom, the bathroom, and the lounge and kitchen open together. Eddie isn’t anywhere obvious. Steve tries the door; it’s locked, and the key still dangles there, confirming Eddie must still be inside somewhere.

“Eddie?” Nothing.

Steve walks back through, this time really looking, checking the other side of the couch, behind the counter, inside of the shower cubicle. The only place left is the little coat cupboard where he found the rotary sweeper.

Eddie is there, curled up as small as he can. He’s twisted into an odd position, like he’s trying to do something he used to do when he had a tail. He full body twitches as the door opens, “Eddie?”

Big eyes blink up at Steve as he crouches, half crawling into the cupboard on his hands and knees, he rubs Eddie’s shoulder, “you okay?”

Eddie nods then, untangling himself and throwing himself into Steve’s lap. Steve goes with it, sitting back on his haunches. Eddie’s breath comes in a huge shudder, his chest hitching under Steve’s hands. Steve’s pretty sure he’s crying, “it’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve comforts him, “I had a bad dream, did you? You want to come back to bed?”

They stand together, Eddie saying “I dreamed about the Upside Down,” as he sniffles and wipes his snotty nose with his wrist.

“Oh. Is that why you were hiding?”

“Yes,” Eddie’s frowning in the lamplight as he climbs back into bed, “got...confused. I was still there.”

“Well, you’re not, you’re here with me, okay?”

“I know I...dreamed about the tank. I think I remember something. Something about the man.”

“The man who’s looking for you?” Steve’s heart feels like it’s creeping up his throat with the horror of it all.

Eddie nods slowly, “yes I think...I think he touched me.”

“Touched you...how?” Steve tries to stay calm, forcing himself not to just to any conclusions about what Eddie means, unable to completely extinguish the possibilities of the...pain Eddie had been put through. They never talk about this, Steve’s never asked and Eddie’s never tried to speak about it. Steve has always kind of assumed that Eddie never dwells on it, and maybe that’s wrong.

Steve’s asked before about other things, if Eddie misses his tail or if Eddie ever thinks much about The Upside Down, but Eddie’s never responded with anything much more than a shrug and a smile, telling Steve he doesn’t think about it very much. That along with the fact that El has told Steve that Eddie’s thoughts are very immediate and in the present...well, Steve’s always figured it isn’t a worry.

Maybe it is.

Eddie frowns, thinking, before slowly lifting a hand and rubbing gently at the top of Steve’s arm to demonstrate.

“That’s all he did?”

Eddie nods, “the other’s...I was...stuck, on a table.” Eddie holds his own wrist tight to demonstrate, “the other people...needles. Take blood, I think.”

“Oh.”

“I think...I think he tell me ‘sorry?”

Eddie looks up at Steve again, a question in his eyes, but Steve has no idea what to make of it.

“Trex,” Eddie sounds out carefully, frowning.

“T Rex,” Steve corrects.

It makes Eddie’s frown deepen, “no small letters?”

Steve holds the record, “yeah, it’s...a stylistic choice, I guess.”

“Good record?”

Steve frowns at the track list on the back, “I mean, ‘Ride a White Swan’ is pretty cool?”

“I like it,” he takes the record back, turning it to hold it up to show Steve the picture on the front, “me and you,” he grins.

“Oh, so you get to be Marc Bolan and I’m...whoever that dude is.”

“This is my hair,” Eddie points and, yeah, alright, Steve hasn’t got an argument because Eddie is right, Steve shakes his head as Eddie puts the record under his arm, along with his new Led Zep record; he was insistent on getting his own copy of ‘Four Symbols’ to take home with them, “all done.”

Eddie kind of has his mouth open a little as he approaches the register, and Steve has to nudge him so that he stops staring up at the girls very pointy, very green, Mohawk. She’s got a fair few piercings, and her arms are littered with tattoos.

“Cool choice,” the girl behind the counter tells Eddie, bringing his attention back down, “you into Lord of the rings?”

“Lord of the rings?” Eddie asks, carefully counting out the right notes, Steve half watching to make sure he’s okay.

“Yeah, it’s a book. Both of these records were influenced by it, kind of. I think the guy who wrote it actually spoke to Led Zep guys and like, encouraged them or whatever. Kind of long though, maybe start with The Hobbit?”

“The Hobbit at the library?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know man, probably?”

“Nice...hair,” Eddie frowns back up at it, but he’s also smiling a little. He’s kind of wide eyed, and it reminds Steve of when he was trying to parse out the tree-in-the-house conundrum at Christmas. Confused awe.

But that also reminds Steve of Eddie getting sick, and sicker, and then everything that came after.

“Thanks man, love your nails. They’re metal.”

“Metal,” Eddie nods.

“You in town long?”

Eddie shrugs, “maybe?”

“No plans huh? That’s cool. A free spirit,” she leans on the counter, resting her chin on her hand and blinking up at Eddie, “well, you should definitely stop by the bar on Friday, it’s the only one in town, you can’t miss it. There’s live music, we could get a drink?”

“Beer?” Eddie asks, and Steve knows that tone.

She smiles at him, “sure thing sweetheart, whatever you like-”

“So, Eddie, lets go to the library?” Steve cuts her off, moving forward to stand just a little too close to Eddie. She looks between them, standing straight again, she frowns but doesn’t say anything when Eddie easily ignores her for Steve, “don’t forget your records.”

“Stevie love?” Eddie asks on their way to find the library.

The town’s bigger than Hawkins, but everything is pretty well signposted, Steve figures because of all the tourists. “Yeah?”

“She had...things.”

Steve looks over real fast, then back at the road, to see Eddie kind of playing with the middle bit of his nose, “yeah, piercings. They’re made of metal, they do it with a big needle.”

“And the pictures? On her arms?”

“Tattoos. They do that with a needle too, and ink. They’re permanent, they stay forever.”

Eddie nods, humming, then frowning, “do I like it?”

Steve laughs, “I don’t know, do you?”

“Do you?”

“Maybe, on other people? I mean, yeah, you see some really cool tattoos and...I did kind of think about getting my ear pierced maybe, but I never did it. Don’t think I want to.”

“Ear?” Eddie questions, tugging on his own, “ohhh,” he says, clearly putting something together, “like Birdie and Nancy? But...more bigger?”

“Yup.”

Eddie nods, “maybe.”

Steve smiles again, “sure, whatever you want. It’ll hurt though.”

Eddie shrugs, “it goes away.”

They’re silent for a short time, Steve following the signs to the library, “Stevie, she was going to...tell something? But you...not?”

Eddie doesn’t quite have the words, “I interrupted her yeah I was...well, I was rude. On purpose.”

“Why?”

“She was flirting with you Eds, she was going to ask you out.”

“I...oh,” then he grins big, “she likes me? I’m her sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I mean, probably.”

“Not like Stevie likes me.”

“No, but she would have, given half the chance.”

Eddie’s frowning again now, “you mean...sex?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie cogitates on this while Steve parks the car up outside the library. He’s frowning his working something out frown.

“If not tell people about us...then why...why tell no?”

“Well...you mean how do you say no, if someone asks you out?”

“Yes. How. How to say no?”

“Well...I mean. You could just say no, you know? Thank you, but no. Or you could say you’re...flattered?”

“Flattered called?”

“Oh it’s...it’s like…Okay, so you know I like you?” Eddie nods, “do you like that, that I like you?”

Eddie grins big, “yeah. That the best.”

Steve grins back, “right...so...if someone else likes you, that’s flattering, you know? They think you’re cool or you look hot or whatever.”

“So I can say...no thank you. Flattered. But no thank you?”

“Yeah. You can.”

Eddies goes to get out of the car, but then turns back, “you...say that? Thank you, but no thank you?”

“Yeah, yeah baby, of course. It’s just me and you, yeah?”

“Me and you,” Eddie repeats, nodding.

Eddie goes to get out of the car again, but Steve stops him, grabbing his arm. “Eddie...if you’re ever...not happy. You have to tell me, right? I mean we kind of live together already and you can’t really tell people about...you know, you. It would be kind of hard for you to date anyone else-”

“Not want anyone else-”

“No. No I know, but that’s what I mean...if something is ever, ever wrong, you have to tell me, understand? If I ever do anything to upset you, you have to promise to tell me okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, and then, very suspiciously, looks at his own knees for a moment, frowning, before he goes to get out of the car.

Steve’s heart sinks so low, guilt ready to consume him. He’s already doing something to upset Eddie, “wait. Wait wait wait. What was that?”

“Stevie...sometimes with the gum.”

“Gum?” Steve asks, perplexed.

Eddie nods. “Pop. Pop pop. All the time. Pop.”

“Oh,” Steve sits back again, relieved, “kind of thought it might be something more serious than that. Anything else?”

“No,” Eddie grins big, then frowns, “yes. The milk, very small, but back in the fridge. Why?”

“Okay I’ll...not pop gum so much. And I’ll...not do that with the milk. Anything else?”

“No,” Eddie says, smiling, “pretty sure.”

“Ow,” Steve says, pulling his leg back to rub at it, “jeez your toe nails are long.”

Eddie wriggles around, lifting his leg. He quickly realizes he can’t lift his leg far enough to look at his foot with the comforter in the way, so Steve sits up, reaching under the covers for Eddie’s toes, “long?”

“Yeah...we haven’t cut them yet, right? Why have they suddenly started growing?” The sun is up enough to shine through the blinds, so Steve figures it’s not too early.

“Stevie...do I have stubble?”

Steve lies down again, reaching to rub Eddie’s cheek, “huh, yeah, a little.”

“Rough,” Eddie tells him with a disgruntled wrinkle of his nose.

“Well...I guess we can teach you to shave today, hows that? I wonder why this is all starting up now.”

“I can do it, I see you do it many times now,” Eddie tells him, taking the can of shaving foam, “I know it tastes horrible, so not in mouth.”

“How...how do you know it tastes horrible?” Steve watches as Eddie does a pretty good job of spreading the shaving foam over his face.

“I...do,” Eddie answers vague and evasive.

“Eddie...did you try and eat the shaving foam?”

“No. Maybe.” Eddie unsheathes the razor, “carefully, sharp,” he tells himself quietly.

“Why…?”

“Think like whizzy cream,” Eddie admits sheepishly.

Steve snorts a laugh, “okay, go with the grain so like...downwards, yeah?”

Eddie nods, leaning close to the mirror.

“Okay, don’t cut them too short, just take off a little bit at a time.”

“Little,” Eddie is sitting on the toilet lid, one knee bent, thigh against his chest as he squints down at the clippers and his toes.

He startles when a slither of nail flies off.

“It’s okay, we can get the sweeper after.”

[rafesslxt]

HEYYY, I was wondering if you can write an imagine Abt Mattheo. It being the reader having a rough day, and shutting down. And Mattheo is just there letting her know that he's there for her

sorry for the late answer I‘m answering all the requests right now 🫶🏻 — hope you still enjoy

ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU | m. riddle

summary: mattheo comforts you after a rough day

warnings: none but mattheo being the cutest boyfriend ever 🫠

words: 1k

As soon as I enter the common room of my house Slytherin, i let my shoulders fall down, sighing loudly. My feet bring me towards my dorm that I share with Pansy who is currently still in class. I throw my bag in the corner of my side of the room and let myself fall down onto the bed.

I know there are always people who have a much worse day happen to them and all, but I couldn't help but feel just so.. drained and sad?

I let out a sigh again and stand up, walking towards my closet. After rumbling through it for a little bit, I find my boyfriends Hoodie he gave me. Before pulling it over my head I wrap both of my arms around it and take a deep breath of it's smell. It smells like his cologne and cigarettes but in a comforting way.

I take off my skirt too and put on some oversized grey sweatpants which are perfect for my current mood. I lay back down on my bed and look at the clock on my nightstand. It's almost an hour before Mattheo's last class is over. I groan and look at the ceiling, thinking about what I could do until I get the idea to write in my diary. It's the first opportunity to get some thought out of my head, writing them down always helped. My hand reaches into the drawer of my nightstand where I full out a black notebook Mattheo once gave me. He said it would be cute as a new diary since my old one got full.

So I start writing down everything that comes to my mind until I fall asleep with the notebook open beside my head and my pencil still in hand.

Suddenly I feel something pulling the pencil from my hand, bit my eyes were too heavy to open them. I knew that it is Mattheo instantly as I smelled his cologne over me like a little cloud. Then I hear him shuffling through my sheets until he pulls me closer to him, wrapping both his arms around my body which curls against his.

"Sleepy?" he mumbles against my hair before kissing my forehead. "Had a rough day." I mumble back, nuzzling my head more into his chest. "What happened?" he asks with a soft voice, his fingers slowly starting to go through my hair. I sigh and try to get even closer to him.

"At first I spilled juice all over my blouse at breakfast which lead me to coming too late to Professor Snape's class. Which is a big problem itself. Then I couldn't answer even one of his stupid questions for what he scolded at me but didn't deducted any points for Slytherin which lead the Gryffindors to scold at me." I could hear him chuckle at the last part. " After that my Quill broke, my potion brewed over in Professor Slughorn's class, and back in the yard where I wanted to take a deep breath, some first graders somehow managed to throw a ball against my head. But when they saw my face when I turned around they apologized. I heard them whispering your name when they ran away though." Again, I hear him chuckle at the last part.

"I just feel like shit, Mattheo." I sigh, feeling my eyes getting teary. "Oh baby come here." he pulls me on top of him, wrapping both his arms around me again, one hand massaging my scalp. " I'm here for you okay? And I promise tomorrow is gonna be better than today. Besides that we have a lot of classes together tomorrow, son everyone who eve try's to scold my princess, got a big problem with me by your side." He kisses my forehead again before placing his fingers on my chin, turning my face up to look at him.

"I'm always gonna be here for you baby." he whispers before putting his lips on my softly, almost careful as if they were to break. His fingers slide from my chin up along my jaw, then placing his palm on my cheek, pulling me a little closer to deepen the kiss.

When he slowly pulls

back he smiles at me and goes "felling better?" I nod with a little smile and kiss his jawline. "Thank you." I whisper against his skin before laying my head back on his chest.

"Just gonna cuddle you all evening hm." he says with a grin that I can hear. "That would be perfect."

And we did. We cuddled all evening, listened some music and talked about his day too. We talked about the upcoming holidays and how we're gonna spend them together for the first time in our relationship.

"I have an idea, but I have to get up for it." he says, playing with my fingers in his hand. I groan and shake my head. " No, then I don't like that idea." He laughs quietly and looks down at me. " Oh believe me, you'll love my idea when you see what It is." I groan again and roll off of him, wrapping my sheets which smelled like him now over me.

He stand up and walks towards my door. " I promise I'll try to be fast." he says before leaving my room. After around 15 Minutes I hear the door open again, turning around to see him walking in with two mugs in his hands. He kicks the door shut behind him with his foot and strolls over to me with a smirk on his lips. "What do you have there?" I ask, getting up on my elbow. He holds one of the mug in front of me so I can see the content. I gasp when I see what it is, my favorite drink. Hot chocolate with marshmallows. I sit up and take the mug out of his hand, a bright smile on my lips now. "How did you-" "Doesn't matter. Just enjoy baby." he smirks, taking a sip of his own, leaving a mustache of chocolate above his upper lip, making me giggle.

He grins at me cheeky and licks it off with his tongue, placing his mug on my nightstand. I do the same and lay back down with him, in his arms again. "Thank you Matty. I love you." "I love you too, sweetheart. I'll always be there for you."

thank you for reading 🫶🏻

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[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season - Part 3

Storm Warning

Azriel Eris x Reader

We’ve got a time jump and are swapping points of view for this chapter y’all.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

3 months later

Eris Vanserra hated the Summer Court. The humidity anywhere outside of the temperature regulated zones of Adriata, the way his hair clung to his forehead and caused curls to form in his otherwise immaculate hair, but most of all it was just insulting to be so bothered by the heat itself when he quite literally had fire in his veins. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

Tarquin strode alongside Eris through the open air lower levels of his keep, three of his guards and two of Eris’ own flanking them several feet behind, one could almost forget they were there if not for the “click clack” of feet echoing through the halls. Eris would be lying if he said he didn’t have to try very hard to focus on the mundane talk of trade routes and port authorities instead of getting lost to the sounds of crashing waves and gulls outside.

Tarquin broached the riveting subject of tariffs on imports from the continent as the first rumble of thunder boomed in the distance. Now that - Eris enjoyed that aspect of the court. Autumn had no shortage of rain but the turbulence of storms often mirrored his own inner peril - made him feel less alone in the world. And truthfully, there was nothing like taking cover from the rain and listening to the rumble outside, watching the lightning dance across the skies as the loud cracks of thunder commanded the attention of anyone within earshot.

“Have your people felt the same effects, High Lord?” Tarquin broke Eris from yet another drift of his thoughts. He really should have brought a secretary or advisor along for this meeting.

Sparing Eris from the embarrassment of asking Tarquin to repeat his last three minutes of speech a cry broke through the hall. The battle cry of a…. Child?

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Followed by a yelp of “ow!”

Eris’ head jerked as he found himself drifting toward the action.

Turning a corner he found a woman laying on the ground, curled into a ball - a child of no more than 10 with a large jagged stick standing over her with his chest puffed out, pure smug joy on his face.

Eris looked to Tarquin who only grinned with satisfaction. Eris gaped before Tarquin quietly whispered, “just watch.”

The woman didn’t move. The child’s look of satisfaction slowly turning to that of concern as she lay there. He bent over the woman placing a hand on her shoulder, his brows knit together. “Lady L/N?”

So focused on the woman on the ground before him, the boy didn’t notice her arm slowly sneak around him and “Oof!” The kid let out a startled breath as she grabbed his ankle, ripping it out from beneath him, effectively leaving the child on his behind.

The female lept up into a crouching position. Her tanned, muscled thighs pushing her up to stand effortlessly. “And that, little ones, is why you never let your guard down with an adversary.”

Eris turned, wondering how he could have missed the group of children sitting on the other end of the room watching the scene unfold.

The boy remained on his behind, hands resting on his forehead in defeat.

“Hey-“ She reached a hand out to help him up. “You did a great job. You quite literally swept me off my feet! Nobody has done that in quite some time.” She paused, sadness twisting her features as if her own words struck her before shifting back to that of a proud instructor. “In fact - I have something for you.”

She reached into the pocket of her calf-length, flowy pants and reaching handing him a shell. “Add this to your leather strap.” She tapped a leather bracelet on his wrist, one shell already strung on it. “You did great, kid.” The boy gave her a genuine smile as he returned to the rest of his classmates.

Eris shifted involuntarily. How much had he wished for someone to say those words to him when he was a child?

Tarquin chuckled “An excellent motivator. Shells. Who knew?”

Eris gave a small smile - brief but genuine before adjusting back into his usual mask. The instructor turned to face them and cauldron damn him if she wasn’t the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. Radiant skin that came from plenty of time in the sun, silky hair that practically begged to have fingers run through it, a soft and curvy yet toned build. A body that told him she indulged herself in what she enjoyed but was active enough to define her plush features, likely blessed with great genetics - lithe yet perfectly squeezable in all his favorite places.

“High Lord.” Her voice carried to him like an ocean breeze. She bowed her head in a respectful greeting, long lashes fluttering. “How may I be of service?”

“Lady L/N,” Tarquin beamed. “It’s a pleasure to introduce you to Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Her brow puzzled for a brief moment before bowing her head again. “It’s an honor to meet you, High Lord.”

“A pleasure to meet you as well, lady.” Eris replied sincerely, meeting her bright eyes. “I didn’t realize Tarquin was hoarding such beauty within his keep.”

“We have many treasures in our court, High Lord. She is one of our brightest.”

Rather than blushing, the female held her head high, giving a polite “Thank you, High Lord.”

“We must be getting to lunch now. Have a pleasant rest of your class, Lady L/N.” He turned to the children with a stern look “And children, behave for her.” following the reminder with a smile and cheeky wink.

—————

It was hours later that Eris was released from meetings for the day. Unfortunately, there was still more to be discussed that would have to wait for tomorrow. Making the way to his guest suite, Eris found himself wondering about the instructor from earlier. Something about her felt vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.

After changing out of his stuffy clothes into something more befitting of the climate, Eris paced his room. He’d forgotten how much longer daylight lasted here than in his own court, with several hours remaining before dusk. He supposed he could brave the heat and take a stroll through the palace grounds, preferably without his entourage of guards.

Relieving the pair from their duties, Eris wandered through the gardens and toward a small grove of trees on the other side of the palace grounds. He could hear running water from a garden tributary that likely connected into the river that emptied into Adriata’s harbor.

Sauntering through the grove, he was pleased to find reprieve from the heat, the cool air wafting off of the stream and shade from the trees turning the grove into a private oasis. It wasn’t particularly trekked through. “Finally.” he thought to himself. A moment of peace.

Situating himself on an iron bench, Eris looked up, only to find that through a thicket of cattails, Lady L/N was standing on a rock upstream, eyes closed and balancing on one leg. Given her steady, intentional breathing he supposed she was meditating. It was odd - seeing her like this - strangely intimate to see someone in such an isolated state of catharsis, unaware of his own presence before her. The sun rays shone through cracks in the leaves, shrouding her in tiny fragments of light that made her tanned skin near golden. Her hair was wind blown from the breeze winding through the grove off the ocean, and she’d changed into a thin cotton sundress. Gods, maybe the Summer Court wasn’t so bad after all. The way it effortlessly flowed over her body perfectly accentuating her ample curves, and those tanned, toned legs - yeah, he should probably leave.

After momentary internal warring he began to stand but before he could sneak off, she gasped. Clutching her arms to her rib cage. “MOTHER FUCKER!” she screamed. Vulgar words coming from such a pretty mouth.

What an interesting method of meditation.

She took several breaths before resuming her position. Another minute went by when she audibly growled. “Bastard!!” She clutched herself again, keeling over. Finally she sat down on the rock, the hem of her dress soaking in the stream’s rippling water, and pressed her head into her hands. Eris thought she was crying.

He really should leave but - memories of his mother crying over the years flashed into his mind. All the years that she only had he or Lucien to console her, kindered spirits brought together by Beron’s casual cruelty. His other brothers being the emotionally void carbon copies of their father they were, paid no mind to their mother’s plight.

Yet still, he didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. She likely didn’t want him bothering her.

Against his better judgement, he found himself drawn in by her familiarity and approached. As he drew closer, he realized her sobs were not sobs at all. She was muttering the raunchiest, most vile slew of curses that he’d ever heard. Lucien would enjoy this female.

As he approached, she jerked her head up. The lovely, collected face from earlier twisted into one of contempt. He wondered if she knew that, that face was, well, adorable like a fierce little kitten. Although, something told him to tread carefully. She may look adorable but he’d bet good coin that her bite matched that of a lions.

“What do you want?” She spat.

Eris only smirked. “And here I thought you were a lady.”

Baiting her. Genius idea, Eris.

“Only within the palace.”

“You’re still on palace grounds.” Shrugging with the statement, Eris put his hands in his pockets - damn these Summer Court linens really were comfortable.

“Well, I was alone until you intruded.” she murmured, not meeting his eyes.

“Did you win Tarquin’s good graces with such manners?”

Her expression filled with ire as she looked up at him. “Did you take your throne by being such a prick?”

Eris couldn’t help but laugh at her bravado. This female either REALLY didn’t like him or truly didn’t care about consequences. “Ah, so you do know who I am.”

“You’re a High Lord. Of course I know-“

Her words cut off as she clutched her ribs again, tighter this time. A shudder escaping her. This time the pain seemed to last longer. And this time he could have sworn her voice cracked as she swore.

“Hey” Eris stepped into the creek, not bothering to step out of his sandals. Before he could hesitate he crouched down before her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe.”

The thing was, he recognized that pain well. It has been centuries but damn he remembered it so clearly.

“Breathe through it. Think of something that makes you smile.”

She clutched herself harder, shaking her head. “Think of the look on your student’s face when you gave him that shell today.”

She breathed in deeply this time instead of letting out another curse.

“Good. Hold for three beats.”

“Now let the breath out.”

She breathed out. “In again.” He instructed. She followed suit. “Now out.”

As her breath steadied, she met his eyes - momentarily soft, a little broken, before ire crossed them again.

“For fucks sake, High Lord.” She spat. “I came here to meditate. I know how to breathe.”

She sure as shit seemed to have forgotten how to for a moment there, but he kept that to himself.

He only let out a soft laugh.

“There she is.”

She scowled in return.

“So, Lady L/N” he began, standing and extending a hand to help her up.

“Y/N.” She interjected, taking his hand. “Call me Y/N.”

Y/N. Fitting, he thought. The kind of name a tropical storm would be given.

Wait. Y/N L/N. Oh, he knew exactly why she was so familiar now. No wonder she’d given him that puzzled look in the palace. And, if Eris recalled correctly, his brother actually was rather fond of her - in a friendly and platonic sort of way. Though in his tales of the Night Court he’d certainly never mentioned the fact that she looked like a gods damned deity.

He led her out of the creek, not quite ready to drop her delicate hand. “So, Y/N, tell me about this idiot mate that let the Summer Court’s brightest treasure go.”

She gaped, jaw dropping into a look of genuine shock. “How-“

“I had one too. I believe you know her.”

—————

Eris and Y/N spent hours talking in the grove. He gave her all the details of his mate, Morrigan. How it killed him to leave her that fated day. Had he touched her, his mate, Beron would have claimed her as Autumn Court property requiring a Blood Duel for the Night Court to retrieve her. Though, Beron would have ensured she never left unharmed. That aside, Eris didn’t want that blood on her hands, the blood of a blood duel or any battles over her. He didn’t want it on his hands either. It killed him to feel her pain down the bond starting from their forced engagement and through the torture her father had inflicted upon her, and the trauma that lingered thereafter. The gut-wrenching, immobilizing pain that only a mate could feel shooting through to them.

He never wanted her to feel that pain. If it hurt him that badly to only feel it down the bond, he couldn’t imagine the strife she’d felt. He wanted to run to her, to comfort her, to tell her everything he couldn’t risk saying. He was too young to face the ramifications from his father and he had his mother and Lucien to protect in those days. So he protected her in the only way he knew how to at the time. Through cold, calculated indifference. He still regretted it.

As time went on, the mask he wore became heavier and heavier, burying that bond deeper within himself. It took him until after the war with Hybern to finally lay it all out to her. Y/N never knew any of that part of the story. She knew Mor and Eris had made amends but nothing of their bond, and she knew that Mor was happily committed to Emerie, an Illyrian female now. He was happy for his mate, as happy as a rejected mate could be.

Eris never claimed to have been in the right. In fact, what he did to Mor was wrong. The way he spoke to her as if she was no more than a common whore when facing her in front of his father at the High Lord’s meeting. Yes, it was an act but it was never okay. He’d live with that for the rest of his days. His apologies to her since never felt like enough.

Y/N empathized with Eris. He could see that she was torn but her gaze toward him softened although, never into that of pity. He liked that about her.

She shared the story of her mating bond with Azriel. And how the waves of anger and grief down the bond had increased in strength recently as she had continued healing. She laughed bitterly at the typical trajectory of females in her situation getting better over time while unfaithful males seemed to spiral as it went on. She didn’t say who he had cheated on her with but Eris had his suspicions. The Shadowsinger apparently had a thing for Vanserra mates. She laughed and cried over the hours they talked. They’d eventually ended up back in a palace seating area for a drink.

Eris hadn’t been so open with someone like this in so long that it felt foreign. Hell, opening up always felt unnatural for him. Perhaps he was stupid for sharing with her. After all, mating bonds could make people do crazy things. She could always take Azriel back and share the details of his little sob stories with the Night Court.

She’d occasionally let out a sharp breath as small jolts of emotion came rolling in. It was nearing dusk when she finally huffed, slapping her hands on her thighs saying, “Enough! This tea is weak. I need something stronger.” Pouring them each a glass of brandy, and another, and another.

As the conversation shifted from the heavier topics to lighter ones, Eris let it slip that he wasn’t fond of the summer court and found all of the sand and humidity to be unpleasant at best.

Her inhibitions were down and if Eris were being honest with himself, his were too. He hadn’t drank much since becoming a High Lord though he often felt the need for a stiff drink. No, there was too much work to be done and he was still getting his own inner circle acclimated. Trust was harder to give in the Autumn Court, especially after being under his father’s rule for so long. There were plenty of good people in the castle but just as many were corrupted under Beron’s rule. Weeding them out was consuming more of his time than anticipated.

Somehow, after their fourth drink, Y/N dragged him out onto the beach, determined to show him all the merits of the crusty, sand-infested shores.

Admittedly, her joy was contagious but he was going to make her work for any positive reaction.

“Okay!” She eagerly squealed. “First - sand castles! Have you ever built one?”

“I live in a castle.” Eris feigned boredom, inspecting his nails. “It seems unnecessary to build one out of… that.” his nose scrunched up, lip curling into a sneer as he gestured to the sand surrounding them.

“Ughhh.” Her eyes rolled back into her head as her little sun dress blew in the wind. And damn if he wouldn’t love to see her eyes going back into her head like that in other circumstances.

He was a gentlemale but a male nevertheless.

“Being High Lord doesn’t mean you have to be such a bore, but fine… No sand castles. Maybe next time!”

Next time. He liked the thought of that. My how far she’d come from practically snarling at him just this morning.

“Look!” She squealed, bringing her hands to her chest and clapping with excitement. “Dolphins! Now I know you don’t have those in the Autumn Court, Eris Vanserra.”

Fuck, his name sounded so good coming off of her lips.

He couldn’t resist smiling at her enthusiasm and then at the dolphins. They swam so peacefully in a pod through the harbor. One even let a young water wraith trail alongside it as a hand carefully gripped onto its dorsal fin as the creature pulled her along.

“The wraiths and dolphins coexist well together.” Y/N mused wistfully. “There’s a common misconception that they are territorial due to food supply but they have plenty in the harbor.”

She smiled softly. “The younger wraiths tend to bond with them and the dolphins have even been known to protect them from certain dangers.”

As the pair continued walking along the shore, the conversation occasionally faltered as Y/N would stare off distantly, as if looking for something that wasn’t there.

His heart ached for her. From what he’d gathered during their talk, she’d left the Shadowsinger, but the heart is slow to heal after losing a mate in any capacity.

Eris nudged her with his shoulder. “Hey little minx, where’d you go?”

Coming back to reality she halted. “Oh! Oh my gods. The sun is setting and you have to come with me! Hurry.”

She grabbed his wrist and he didn’t hesitate to follow along as she all but dragged him down the beach. “Hurry! We’ll miss them!”

They ran until reaching a secluded inlet of the bay. They climbed up a small rocky ledge where she sat, dangling her feet over the edge. “There’s an underwater cave-“ she breathed heavy, catching her breath. “here, beneath us and every night-“ another pause to breathe. “something magical happens as the sun sets.”

Eris, catching his own breath, waited patiently for more details but she only dropped a small pebble into the water and as she did, a rainbow of luminescent fish rippled to life below the surface. There had to be thousands of them, leisurely swimming out of the cave as if they were just waking up. Shades of bright pink, green, blue, orange, and purple lit up the small inlet. Eris was awestruck, so awestruck in fact that he didn’t hesitate planting his ass next to her on the crusty sand-coated ledge.

With a wave of her wrist she pulled a bottle of rum out from the pocket realm, tugging the cork out with her teeth and taking a swig, then handing it over to him.

They sat in silence as the remaining fish left the inlet and the remaining colors of the sunset disappeared into night. Clouds began rolling in as they drank and began chatting again. Much like that morning, thunder rolled in but this time he was disappointed to hear it. He didn’t want the evening to end, wasn’t ready to let her go quite yet.

He wished he’d had a warning before the ocean winds blew this wild, beautiful storm into his life that morning. Something to brace himself against the inevitable fallout of the precarious situation he found himself in. It was a storm he was prepared to ride out and he had a feeling it would be worth whatever debris she’d leave him with.

The base of the distant thunder rumbling, the cymbal-like crash of waves on the shore, and singing of the creatures of summer nights blended together into a beautiful melody that flowed through Eris. Quickly he stood, extending a hand to her. “Dance with me, Y/N?”

She froze, that distant look crossing her eyes again for a second. He braced himself for her decline but the life returned to her eyes as a smile graced her full lips. She accepted his hand and didn’t hesitate as he tucked her into his chest, her warmth and scent lulling him into a state of bliss.

No, Eris Vanserra did not hate the Summer Court at all.

————————

This was a long one and I know it wasn’t from our girls POV but I hope you all enjoyed it 🥹 Stay tuned for more! Her story is not done yet.

Tags:

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study

[norrizzandpia]

Used (Part 2) (LN4)

Summary: Even in times of pain, they’ll find their way back to each other.

Warnings: very emotional, but happy happy ending, lando’s actually depressed its so sad, cisca norris to the rescue, oscar and lando are enemies for a while

Note: HII ITS HEREEE I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT I THINK ITS PRETTY SLAY? 🤞🏻

In the wake of Lando’s actions, Y/n was left with a broken heart and a hole in her stomach. Constant emptiness plagued her, contradicting the love that had once filled her for a boy who used her and took every inch of her.

She was quiet, once more. Lonely, once more. Oscar couldn’t do anything to remedy the pain she felt, neither could her parents or friends. Simply, she sat within herself, retracing all the memories they shared together.

On the other hand, Lando was faced with the consequences of his actions. While the public didn’t know what happened, they were aware something had gone down with Oscar’s hostile driving toward his teammate every time they found themselves together on a track. If it wasn’t because of that, it was because of the angry fights accidentally had between the two men fans consistently caught on their cameras. And if it wasn’t because of the fights, it was because of the disappearance of interviews. Both drivers not being seen in a room together for a good 4 weeks straight after a particularly aggressive video sourced online of Lando and Oscar shoving each other behind the McLaren Garage. Yelling at each other about something the camera couldn’t pick up on, but angry faces and hands flew about for minutes before Lando’s dad rounded the corner and split them up.

Nonetheless, when Lando went to bed at night, he didn’t think about the fights with Oscar or the negative press he was getting online. He thought of Y/n and only her. His mind replayed moments of her bright smile, a warm feeling lingering in his stomach before his hand drifted to the cold, empty side of his bed and reminded him of his loss. It was almost as if he mourned her. She no longer showed up to races and if she did, her appearances were strategically planned so as to not have the couple run into each other. He had pleaded with Charlotte, McLaren’s PR manager, to “somehow” slip up on their schedules, but she wouldn’t budge. What he didn’t know was that Charlotte had gotten an ear full from Oscar and his parents about how Y/n was not to see Lando. The poor girl had been utterly ruined by him and his extortion of her.

Whether he liked to admit it or not, Lando knew that.

He knew she would never be the same because he had been reckless, and he knew the chances of her ever even looking at him again were slim to none. Still, he allowed his soul and heart to continue being tied to her. If he was being honest with himself, his whole being would always be tied to her, whether she loved him or not.

He tried convincing Oscar of this, of his love for her, but the Australian just continued screaming.

“YOU’RE A DICK, YOU KNOW THAT?” His blonde hair tangled after tugging on it so much as Lando stood in the corner of the room, taking the punches because he deserved them.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Lando whispered, his hands curling in his pockets as his tears threatened to fall.

“SORRY? SORRY WILL NEVER CUT IT FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE!” His arms flailed around. Oscar’s own tears gracefully fell to the ground as his rage consumed him.

There was a moment as the two boys looked at each other, both broken to the core for 2 completely different reasons, yet over the same girl.

Sighing, Oscar stepped back before plopping onto the couch, “Why’d you do it?” He whispered, his head falling into his hands.

Lando came to sit beside him, “There’s no good reason, but the only thing I can tell you is that I have always loved her, since the moment I saw her. Martin’s bet gave me an excuse to fall back on if she rejected me like I thought she would. When she didn’t and we started going out, I tried to push it away. But, Martin kept calling me and texting me, taunting me with how me and her had actually started. Throughout it all, though, I love her. I continue to love her even though she refuses to see me and I still love her even though she’s blocked my number. I’m starting to think I always will. Love her, I mean.”

Oscar turned his head to the side, capturing the blue eyes of his teammate and the ones that were so clearly defeated, “Really? It wasn’t a joke to you?”

Lando shook his head immediately, “No, of course not. It never was. I tried to explain that to her when everything came out, but she wouldn’t listen. After she shut the door on me when she found out, I tried to knock and ask her to let me in, but I don’t think she heard me because all I heard on the other side was crying. Oscar, I’m so sorry for what I did. If I could take back how it started, I would, but I won’t, and will never, wish to take back the moments we shared together. Even now, when communication between us has stopped, the memories keep me going. Just the memories of her are enough for me. I’ll always be grateful to even have them with her, having been able to experience that kind of love with someone who reciprocated it is something I never expected to feel ever in my life.”

“I wish you wouldn’t have done it. I wish you would have just gotten with her naturally. I really thought you two would get married.” Oscar said slowly, trying to let Lando down easily.

However, Oscar’s attempts failed as the sorrow hit Lando all over again. Flashes of the night when she opened up to him under the sky bounced around in his mind as he wondered what it would have been like to marry her, spend a lifetime with her.

Wiping a hand over his face to conceal the physical signs of his despair, Lando averted his eyes from the boy that reminded him too much of her, “Yeah, me too.”

—

“Y/n?” Her mother’s voice filtered through the door.

She shifted under the blankets, groaning quietly at the disturbance, but her mother’s next words made her falter.

“Mrs. Norris is here to see you if you’re up for it.” The door creaked open before soft footsteps made their way to her bed, the mattress dipping before a hand came to rest on her side.

In the time she and Lando spent together, Cisca became like a second mother to Y/n. Whether the woman intended for it or not, her soft-spoken voice and gentle, motherly touch had filled Y/n with comfort during times of self-confliction or arguments with Lando or the other men in her life.

“Hi, darling.” Her hand rubbed slowly up and down her torso as Y/n untangled herself from her blankets, sitting up to meet the older woman’s eye.

“Mrs. Norris, it’s so nice to see you.” Her smile wasn’t as big as it used to be, Cisca noted.

Giggling, she smoothed a hand down Y/n’s cheek, “Even after all this time, you still call me ‘Mrs. Norris’”.

They laughed together for a second before silence overtook the moment and Cisca was watching Y/n retreat back into her heartbreak.

Her small voice cut through the stillness, “I’ve never seen him like this before.”

Y/n’s head tilted to the side as she pleaded with Lando’s mother to not begin this conversation, for the sake of her healing process. However, Cisca knew, deep down, that this conversation would do more good than bad.

So, she continued.

“He won’t talk about you. He shuts down the moment we mention your name.” Cisca took Y/n’s hands in hers, cradling them as she had cradled her son the night Y/n had blocked his number. Lando had shown up unannounced at his parents’ home, clutching his phone in his hands as if it was the only thing anchoring him. The moment she had opened the door, his eyes told every bit of pain he had tried to force down as he convinced himself he wasn’t allowed to feel grief if he was the one having screwed it all up. His legs gave out and he had fallen into the safe embrace of his mother, clutching onto her as he rambled about losing Y/n. Cisca had brought him into the house and sat with him on the couch all night as he poured his heart out to her, tears and all.

He didn’t leave their house for a week after that.

Now, she sat with the girl who had destroyed her son, just as he had destroyed her. Prepared to try and reconcile something so beautiful.

“If he loved me, he wouldn’t have done it.”

Cisca nodded, completely agreeing with Y/n’s logic, “I understand, but Y/n, we both know this is much more complicated. You two have loved each other for a long time. I would even say from the moment you first met, but I won’t speak for you. When he said he loved you, he meant it. From the start. Yes, he messed up and did something I did not raise him to do. However, Y/n,” Cisca’s hand moved to turn Y/n’s face, forcing her to look his mother in her eyes, “I know my son and I know when he’s gone for someone. He’s utterly gone for you. Hell, he’s so lost without you, the boy can’t even tie his own shoes.”

Cisca wiped away the tears Y/n didn’t even know were falling before the girl in bed whispered, “But, what if he hurts me again?”

Sighing, Lando’s mother scooched to squeeze on the bed beside Y/n, putting her arm around the girl and hugging her into her side, “I know it’s hard, but just give him a chance, yeah? He betrayed your trust and a lot of other things, so it will be difficult to let him in again. But, and this is hard to understand because he was your first everything, what you two had was unlike anything I have ever seen in my entire life and I’ve been married to his father for years. The way you two understood each other was on a level that I think would be a shame to not fight for. You were good for him, really good, and I wouldn’t be a good mother if I didn’t do everything I could to make my child happy again. It just so happens that, in this case, it would also benefit the person he was in love with too.”

Nodding, Y/n hugged the woman tighter, “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

Seeing as her job was done, Cisca got up and made her move toward the door, but not before she stopped to turn around and look Y/n in the eye once more, “When you talk to him, be gentle, okay? I know it sounds stupid because he should be being gentle with you after everything he pulled, but you don’t know how hard he’s beaten himself up over this. There are only a handful of times in motherhood where you will see your child grieve so hard over someone, they vomit. It’s hard to watch your son destroy who he is because he loved so hard. If you won’t do it for him, do it for me. There’s only so much a mother can take when it comes to seeing her child in pain.”

Y/n smiled lightly as she promised the woman she would be soft with the man she loved.

The man she loves.

—

“Can you at least shower?” Max asked softly as Lando curled further into his bed.

Sniffling, Lando mumbled, “There’s no one to smell good for. Don’t see the point.”

Max rubbed a hand over his face, hating how his best friend had become the shell of a human, “Lando, it’s for your own health. Please, it’ll be good for you. You haven’t gotten out of bed for a week. I’m worried about you, mate.”

“I don’t ca-” Lando started, but was interrupted by a knock on their front door.

Max’s gaze shifted between his best friend and the slab of wood, not wanting to let Lando leave his sight, yet knowing he needed to open it. He exhaled a breath as he stole a quick glance at the body under all the lumps of blankets before making his way to the door.

Opening it, he sighed in relief at the sight of Y/n, the remedy for his best friend’s turmoil.

“I don’t know why you’re here, but I think it’s for a good reason. I hope it’s for a good reason.” He said as he let her in.

She smiled at him, still a bit nervous to see Lando, but relieved she had finally gone through with it this time.

“Is he here?” She asked quietly.

Max laughed, “Is he here? Yeah, he has been for the last eternity.”

She cringed before making her way toward his room, inhaling a breath before opening the door.

“Max, I’m serious. Leave me alone.” He said, annoyed, from under his pillow. She couldn’t help the smile that took over her face at his voice and common stubbornness. She had missed him like the ocean missed the sun when it disappeared in the night. Missing his soft touches, hushed kisses of warmth, and the light he continually exuded on both good and bad days.

“Lando, it’s me.” She said as she rounded his bed, sitting down on the side of it.

He froze. His brain tried to convince him he was going clinically insane, no longer seeing her in his head but hearing her in his room. However, his heart contradicted the argument when he felt the bed dip and he just knew. He knew it was really her by the way his skin lit up at the close proximity and his breath stopped for a moment before filling his lungs once more like life was returning to his body.

He lowered the blankets. Her face coming into view almost had him breaking down, but this newfound chance at redemption had his brain short-circuiting, and crying so hard he couldn’t speak didn’t seem like a good plan.

“Y/n…” His tone was subdued as if she was an angel, completely struck by her and her existence.

Her hand reached out to caress his cheek. The igniting touch had color pumping through his body again as he leaned into her touch, seemingly reconnecting with his lifeline.

“I thought we could talk.” She said as his eyes fluttered closed, her thumb rubbing circles over his cheekbone.

“Of course,” He said breathlessly, enamored by her and the way she made him feel.

She giggled, a sound that Lando was etching into his brain as if he was going to lose it again, “Okay, but you’ll have to open your eyes for that to happen, Lan.”

He blushed at the nickname. The last time she had called him the shortened name was when she was confronting him over what he had done. The reminder of the moment when she walked out on him hit him hard. He stared at her, scared she had only come back to him to give him a taste of what he could’ve had only to take it away once more.

She must have realized his agony because she was grabbing his hand with hers, coaxing him away from the dark place to come back to her, in the now. The funny part was that she didn’t need to physically bring him back, he would always return to her just by the comforting presence of the person he fell in love with.

“Dating me because of a bet hurt like hell. I thought I would never come back from that kind of pain, but as I rotted away in my room, I realized that, even though you had hurt me so deeply, I still loved you. It took me time to understand what that meant seeing as you have been my first love, my first everything, but I think I’ve got it down, now.” She squeezed his hand as their eyes welled together, “Even though those times we spent together had been created under such a gross circumstance, I wouldn’t want to forget them. Ever. Because I love you, Lan. I was talking to my mom and she explained to me that giving people second chances isn’t always a bad choice, if they’re good for you. That’s when it clicked for me. Giving you a second chance is a no-brainer because you’ve never wronged me before. I fell in love with you and when you fell in love with me, you always showed up. Even when I found out about the bet, you still showed up. You stayed on the other side of Oscar’s Driver’s Room door, asking me to come in before he showed up and forced you away. You’ve always been there for me, always secretly supported me, and wished the best for me even when I rejected you completely. Over this time by myself, I came to the conclusion that I don’t want anyone else to root for me on the sidelines other than you.”

His arms had found their way to her, loosely circling around her waist as he tested the waters. When she didn’t push him away, when her arms twisted around his neck, he leaned in. What she thought would be a kiss was actually a bone-crushing hug that was, surprisingly, way more intimate than any kiss he could have planted on her at that moment. His tears wetted her shirt and hers did the same to him as he whispered how much he loved her in her ear. Softly, he explained to her just how much she made his heart stop, “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could go back in time and treat you with respect. I’m so sorry for what I did and for what I put you through, my love. The thing that was so scary for me when I realized how much I loved you was that you had always been in front of me. Like, you’d been standing right in front of me for years before I understood who I needed you to be to me. I never thought that one singular person could change the course of my life and how I lived it let alone someone I had known for so long, but it’s always been you. I’m not sure if you always felt that same way about me, but I have. Once I began looking to you when shit in my life hit the fan, I knew I wouldn’t be able to love anyone the way I love you. It would always have to be you because, if it wasn’t, there’d be no one else to fulfill me the way you have. You came into my life and flipped it right side up, not upside down.”

When his hushed words ended in her ear, she pulled away. Tears tracing the outside of her lips, she scratched at the hair at his nape, something she knew he always loved.

Realizing that he had never fully lost her, Lando whispered an “I love you” before smoothing the hair out of her face.

When he was finally able to see his favorite face, only then did he kiss her.

End.

Tags (thank you for the sweet comments): @tpwkstiles @lqvesoph @hearts4joao @flwr-stella @formula1mount @405rry @msliz @gaslysainz @summerslike11

[seungvocado]

How to comfort a sad puppy.

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Content/Trigger warning: Soft! Seungmin, kinda subby Seungmin, fem! reader, reader is older than Seungmin, Seungmin calls reader noona, mentions of couple fighting/disagreements, Seungmin cries (a little), p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, overstimulation, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms. [Let me know if I miss out any]

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — Sypnosis: Seungmin and his noona had a big fight which led to her leaving their shared home to cool off. Unable to reach her, even after a few days, Seungmin starts to think that his noona is leaving him and regrets being such a menace to his noona...

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — 18+ work! MDNI! Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog.

Seungmin lay curled up on the bed, tears streaming down his face as he cried himself to sleep for yet another night. The fight with his noona had left him shattered, and her absence was a constant ache in his heart. He had tried reaching out to her, but she hadn't responded, leaving him feeling even more desperate and alone.

As he drifted into a restless sleep, noises from the living room jolted him awake. The sound of the main door opening made his heart race, and fresh tears flowed down his cheeks. He knew it was her—his noona—coming back. But he was too exhausted, too emotionally drained, to get out of bed. His mind swirled with turmoil and fear. Was she back to officially break things off?

The door to their once-shared room creaked open, and she stepped inside. Seeing Seungmin curled up on the bed, his shoulders shivering slightly as he cried, her heart broke. Both of them were at fault for the fight, but it was clear that Seungmin was suffering deeply. Slowly, she approached him, her own heart aching with guilt and love. She sat down on the edge of the bed and gently touched his shoulder. "Seungmin, I'm here. Please, don’t cry," she said softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

Seungmin’s eyes opened, red and swollen from crying, and he turned to look at her, his expression a mix of relief and anguish. "Noona, I thought you’d left me for good," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Her heart broke at his words. She leaned in, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. He buried his face in her shoulder, his sobs intensifying as he clung to her.

"I’m so sorry, Seungmin. I never meant to hurt you. I came back to make things right," she whispered, holding him tightly, gently stroking his hair and whispering soothing words. Gradually, his sobs began to subside, though tears continued to trickle down his cheeks. She kissed each tear away, her own heart aching with the need to comfort him. "I love you, Seungmin. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together."

After what felt like hours, Seungmin's tears finally stopped. He looked up at her, his eyes red and his cheeks puffy from crying. “Noona…” Seungmin trailed and held onto her even tighter.

Despite his distressed state, she couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked. Overwhelmed by her feelings, she leaned down and kissed him softly. Seungmin hurriedly and desperately returned the kiss, his need for her evident in every touch. She whispered loving words between kisses, telling him how much he meant to her, how she couldn't imagine life without him.

"I love you… I’m so sorry… you’re everything to me…" she murmured between kisses. Seungmin was totally lost in the kiss, his hands gripping her tightly as if afraid she might disappear again. When she pulled back slightly, he whined softly, his need for her almost palpable. "Noona, please… don’t stop. I need you… make love to me please," he pleaded, his voice breaking.

Her heart swelled with love and desire. She gently pushed him back onto the bed, her hands caressing his face. "I’ll take care of you, Seungmin. I love you so much," she whispered before kissing him deeply, her hands roaming his body, reassuring him with every touch. She took her time, wanting to show him just how much he meant to her. As she slid down to remove his clothes, Seungmin's breath hitched, his body trembling with anticipation. "Noona… you drive me crazy…" he breathed, his voice strained with need.

She smiled, her hands gently tracing the contours of his body. She undressed him slowly, savoring each moment. When he was completely bare, she took a moment to admire him, her heart swelling with love and desire. "You’re beautiful, Seungmin," she whispered as she kissed her way down his body, leaving a trail of warmth in her wake. Seungmin's breaths became shallow, his need for her growing with each touch.

Her touch was gentle as she ran her fingers through Seungmin's hair, guiding him down onto the bed. She leaned over him, her eyes filled with a mischievous glint before she lowered herself between his legs. Her breath was hot against his skin, sending a shiver of anticipation through his body.

As her mouth enveloped him, Seungmin's reaction was immediate. His back arched, a groan escaping his lips as the warmth and wetness surrounded him. He couldn't help as his moans and gasps growing louder with each movement of her lips and tongue. The pleasure was overwhelming, and it made him helplessly honest in his responses.

"Noona..." he breathed, his voice trembling with need. "It feels so good..."

She took him deeper, her pace unhurried but steady, savoring every sound he made. The way his body responded to her touch, the way his hips moved unconsciously, seeking more of her warmth—it was all too intoxicating. His fingers found their way into her hair, gripping it lightly, though he was careful not to push her down too hard. He didn't need to guide her; she knew exactly how to bring him to the edge and hold him there.

"Please... don’t stop..." he begged, his tone dripping with desperation. His head fell back onto the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as waves of pleasure coursed through him. Every time she used just the right amount of pressure or teased him with a flick of her tongue, he couldn't stop the sounds that escaped him. He was completely undone, his usual composed self-melting away under her skilled touch.

She continued to pleasure him, listening to his every whimper, every breathy moan, using it as a guide to drive him closer to the brink. The sounds of his pleasure filled the room, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the sight of Seungmin reduced to such a state. He was utterly hers in this moment, a bundle of vulnerability and need.

As he approached the peak, his voice cracked, a mix of pleading and pure bliss. "Noona, I'm close... so close..."

She didn’t relent, her movements becoming just a bit faster, a bit more intense, pushing him right over the edge. His release came in a rush, his body trembling violently as he cried out her name, a raw, unfiltered sound of pleasure that seemed to echo through the room.

Seungmin lay there breathless, completely spent, and when she finally looked up at him, his eyes were hazy with satisfaction and adoration. He reached for her hand and inter-lock his with hers.

"Noona… please… I need you…" he whimpered, hand tightening on his noona.

She moved up his body, kissing him deeply before positioning herself over him. She took him in slowly, both of them gasping at the sensation, he was still incredibly hard even after his first release. They stayed still for a moment, savoring the connection, before she began to move.

Her pace was slow and tender, with her guiding him through waves of pleasure. "I’m here, Seungmin… feel how much I love you…" she whispered into his ear, her voice a soothing balm to his soul. Seungmin's hands clung to her, his need for her evident in every touch and moan.

"Noona… you feel so good… don’t stop…" he breathed, his voice shaky with emotion. "I won’t, Seungmin. I’m here with you, always," she reassured him. Their movements were perfectly in sync, the intimacy of their connection deepening with each thrust.

Seungmin's grip tightened as she rode him, his eyes locked on his noona, his breath coming out in heavy pants. "Just like that," he groaned, his voice filled with pleasure.

Every movement sent a wave of warmth through her, and she couldn’t help but moan, her body responding to every touch, every whisper.

Seungmin’s hands slid up her waist, moving over her skin as he watched his noona, completely mesmerized by the way she moved. "You're amazing," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need. "You feel so good, noona."

His praise only spurred her on, making her ride him harder, her body trembling as she chased the high that was building between them. Seungmin’s grip on her hips became more desperate, and his eyes darkened with lust as he watched her, his lips parting in pleasure.

Before long, both of them were lost in the rhythm, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming as they moved together, completely in sync. She leaned down to kiss him, her lips meeting his in a heated kiss as their bodies moved in perfect harmony, the connection between them stronger than ever.

Seungmin’s hands slid up her waist, gripping her skin as he threw his head back, breaking the kiss, his lips parting in a moan that made her heart race. "Noona," he groaned, his voice hoarse and filled with need. "You feel so good. So wet… I can’t get enough of you."

Hearing him say that, his voice rough and breathless, only made her move faster, more eagerly. The way his body reacted beneath her, the way his hips bucked up to meet her movements, sent waves of pleasure through his noona. She could feel how turned on he was, his body trembling with need as they moved together.

"Seungmin," she whispered, her voice shaky as she leaned down, her lips brushing against his. "You make me feel so good. I can’t—" She gasped as he thrust up into her, hitting the right spot, sending sparks of pleasure through her. "I need more…"

Seungmin’s eyes locked onto with his noona, his pupils blown wide with desire. He grabbed her waist with both hands, guiding her movements as he thrust up harder, deeper. "I’ll give you everything," he whispered, his voice breaking with each thrust. "Anything you want. I’ll give you all of me."

His words, his sounds, the way his body fit so perfectly against hers—it all combined into a dizzying spiral of pleasure. She felt herself getting wetter, slicker, and Seungmin’s whimpers turned into something primal, his need for his noona evident in the way he moved beneath her, desperate to be as close to her as possible.

Each sound he made sent another jolt of heat straight through her, and she couldn’t help but whimper herself, overwhelmed by how good he felt inside her. His moans and desperate whimpers were like music to her ears, driving her wild with desire.

"God, noona," Seungmin gasped, feeling himself getting close, the pleasure building higher and higher with each thrust. "I’m so close…"

His grip on her hips tightened, his eyes darkening as he thrust up into her with more intensity. "Come for me, baby," she whispered, her voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you. I need to feel you come in me."

Those words sent Seungmin over the edge, and with one final thrust, he cried out, his body trembling as the waves of pleasure crashed over him.

She followed right behind him, eyes rolling back as she hear Seungmin’s moans turning into a deep groan as he released inside her, filling her completely.

The wet sounds of their joining filled the room, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. Seungmin’s moans grew louder, his need for her driving him to the brink of madness. "I love you, Seungmin… you’re mine… only mine…" she murmured breathlessly between kisses. "Yes, noona… I’m yours… always…" he gasped, his voice filled with longing.

She collapsed against him, both of them breathing heavily, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all. She held Seungmin close, her lips brushing against his forehead as she whispered softly, "You’re amazing, Seungmin... "

Their hips movements continued as they ride out their high, their movements slower than before, more deliberate, each touch and kiss a testament to their love and commitment. "I’ll always be here, Seungmin… I love you…" she whispered as they moved together, the intensity of their connection overwhelming. Seungmin’s whimpers grew louder as he reached his peak once more, the force of his release leaving them trembling.

As they lay together, still entwined, Seungmin’s tears had finally stopped, replaced by a deep, abiding love and the knowledge that they would face any challenges together. He held her close, his heart full of love and gratitude. "I love you, noona… I need you… always…" he whispered, his voice trembling. "I love you too, Seungmin. I’ll never leave you," she promised, stroking his head as she watched her puppy drifting off to sleep in her arms.

υ´• ﻌ •`υ — υ´• ﻌ •`υ — υ´• ﻌ •`υ — υ´• ﻌ •`υ — υ´• ﻌ •`υ

Y/N woke up to Seungmin’s cute face nestled close to hers. His eyes were still a bit puffy from all the crying he had done the night before, and his lips were adorably pouty. He looked like an innocent puppy, so vulnerable and endearing. She couldn't help but run her fingers through his soft hair, marveling at how peaceful he seemed now. Under the blanket, they were still not wearing anything, their bodies comfortably close. Seungmin stirred as he felt her touch, slowly waking up. His eyes fluttered open, and when he saw her, a smile spread across his face. He snuggled up to her like a puppy seeking warmth.

"Noona..." he murmured lovingly, his voice still heavy with sleep. He nuzzled his face deeper into Y/N’s neck. They stayed like that for quite some time until Y/N felt Seungmin’s warm big hand slowly inching towards her inner thigh, his touch light and teasing. As his fingers trailed closer and closer to where she ached, her own hand sought him out, finding him already hard, pulsing with need. Their teasing continued, each touch more electric than the last. "Noona, you feel so good... I can't wait..." he whispered, his voice trembling. "Seungmin... please... make love to me..." she breathed, unable to hide her desire.

He positioned himself over her, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that took her breath away. "I love you, noona. I'll show you how much..." he vowed, his voice thick with passion. He entered her slowly, savoring the sensation as they both gasped. He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, pouring all his love into every movement. "You're everything to me... I can't live without you..." he confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "I love you too... don’t stop..." she urged, gripping his shoulders as their passion intensified.

The desperate, fervent lovemaking pushed them both to the brink. Their wet bodies moved in unison, their sounds of pleasure filling the room. "Noona, you feel so good... I can't hold back..." he moaned.

Y/N’s voice trembled as she whispered, "Don't hold back, Seungmin... I need you..." Her words carried a desperate urgency that seemed to ignite a fire within him.

As Seungmin thrust deeper, Y/N moans became uncontrollable, echoing in the room like a symphony of pleasure. Each movement sent waves of ecstasy coursing through her, intensifying with every thrust. She could feel him getting bigger inside her, stretching her in ways she didn’t think possible, and the sensation was both overwhelming and addictive.

Y/N’s skin felt alive under Seungmin’s touch, every caress igniting a fire within her. The way he held her tighter made her feel utterly cherished, as if he were trying to merge their bodies into one. The soft curses that slipped from his lips only heightened Y/N’s desire; hearing him lose himself in pleasure made her feel powerful, wanted, and needed.

“Seungmin…” she gasped, her voice thick with longing, as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. She could sense his struggle to maintain control as he groaned, the sound vibrating through both of them. “You feel so good… you’re so big.”

He buried his face in Y/N’s neck, his breath hot against her skin. “God, noona, you’re so tight,” he murmured, his voice a mix of awe and desperation. “I can’t get enough of you.”

It thrilled Y/N to know just how much of an effect she had on Seungmin. The way his breathing quickened, the sounds he made, and the tremor in his voice all showed just how much he was lost in her. She loved the power in it, knowing that her body, her voice, and every little movement were driving him to the brink.

Wrapping her arms tighter around his neck, she pulled him closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she moaned, the sound coming out shamelessly needy. It only seemed to spur him on, his pace quickening, and his grip on her tightening as if his noona might slip away if he didn’t hold her close enough.

“Seungmin… oh, god,” she whispered against his skin, and she could feel him shudder at the sound of your voice, his own groans turning deeper, more desperate. Her nails lightly dragged along the back of his neck as her hips met each of his thrusts, making sure he could feel just how much she craved him.

Hearing the way she reacted to him seemed to unravel whatever restraint he had left. He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes half-lidded and filled with heat as he drank in every expression on her face, every sound that fell from her lips. “Noona, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he breathed, voice rough and strained. “I can’t… I just need all of you.”

With every thrust, she felt herself melt under the weight of pleasure that Seungmin gave her. He seemed to know exactly how to touch her, how to move, and how to breathe life into every fantasy she had ever had.

“Minnie,” she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper as she clung to him, feeling each stroke send waves of ecstasy through her body. “You’re so good for me.”

His lips curled into a smirk, and she could see the satisfaction in his eyes, knowing that he was the one bringing his noona to such heights. “I want to be everything for you, noona,” he replied, his voice deep and rough as he continued to plunge into her, relentless and sure. “I want to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

And he did. Every movement of his was perfectly tailored to elicit the deepest, most delicious sensations, making her feel cherished and adored in a way that felt almost overwhelming. She could feel the tension coiling within her, building with each thrust, each kiss, each soft caress.

Y/N could feel the pressure building deep within her, tightening like a coiled spring as Seungmin continued to work his magic. Each thrust was sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She could hardly think straight, her mind clouded with bliss as she focused solely on the way he filled her, the way he made her feel so incredibly alive.

“Seungmin,” She gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as she urged him on. “I’m so close… I need you.”

His breath quickened, and he looked down at his noona with a mix of lust and determination. “Don’t hold back, noona,” he encouraged, his voice thick with desire. “Let go for me. Please, I need to feel you come around me. Please noona…”

The way he said it sent a jolt of electricity through her and she felt the tension building to an unbearable peak. She could feel her walls tightening around him, as if her body was begging for release. “I can’t hold it anymore,” she panted, her voice trembling with the intensity of it all.

“N-noona…” he whimpered, his thrusts becoming more frantic, more desperate. “Please noona, please come for me, just like that.”

With a final thrust that sent her over the edge, she cried out his name, waves of pleasure crashing over her. She could feel herself tightening around him, her body quaking with ecstasy as he followed her into bliss, releasing himself deep inside his noona. In that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, entwined in the afterglow of their shared release, lost in a world of pleasure and love.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, she pulled Seungmin down to her, capturing his lips in a messy, passionate kiss. The taste of him, mixed with the remnants of their shared ecstasy, sent another thrill through her. “Thank you for making me feel so good,” you whispered against his lips, her eyes sparkling with affection.

"Noona..." he breathed, his voice filled with love. "I can't live without you... I love you so much..."

She held him close, her fingers brushing through his hair as she whispered, "I love you too, Seungmin..."

"Look... " She continued, looking into his sparkly boba eyes staring back at her. "I'm sorry I did not reach out to you after our fight, I saw your messages and missed calls but-"

"Noona~ it's okay... it's fine now... I'm also sorry that I started this because I was annoying you while you were busy with work." Seungmin admitted sheepishly, hugging her waist tighter.

She chuckled, pinching Seungmin's cheeks lightly, "No matter how much of an annoying menace you are, you're my menace..."

Seungmin felt blood rushing to his face as he nuzzled into his noona's neck, trying to hide his shyness.

They lay entwined, their hearts beating as one, basking in the afterglow of their passion. As Seungmin's tears finally dried, they drifted off to sleep once more, wrapped in each other's arms, knowing that their love had grown even stronger and that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

[pricesprincess]

from this ask | fat fem! reader | asshole oc for story purposes

simon riley really did live up to his nickname ghost with the way he followed you from place to place and any obstacles didn't matter to him, not when it came to know if you were safe or not.

he knew your schedule like his own and after years of being together it was just natural and simon couldn't just give up on the notion that you weren't his wife anymore so that's why he calls you everyday.

it could be about the weather, if things around your apartment need to be fixed, or if any men are hitting on you at your job because the idea of you moving on makes him sick to his stomach with dreadful pain.

but the first thing he always asks is are you okay love? because he wants to know if you are doing alright, perhaps without him and it seems that you're struggling with it all as well.

so when you ask simon to crash your date when you're halfway through dinner because he keeps making odd comments that put you on edge the moment you two sat down from each other there was no way he wouldn't help you.

your date was polite at first but something in your gut was warning you to text simon a simple word. red. he knew what it would mean.

"i'll be right back, i just need to freshen up." you murmured with a fake smile as you grabbed your purse and stood up knowing that if you were to be honest he could flip out and do something crazy.

your date nodded looking you up and down with a slight lip curl. "you could've dressed better and sprayed more perfume." his words were said so nonchalantly like they couldn't hurt a person's feelings.

you couldn't get away from his faster.

once in the bathroom you leaned against the wall pulling up simon's contact, the picture was of him and the cat you had custody of, princess q-tip who you had to beg him to do it but gave in quickly.

white with blue eyes and spoiled since you weren't too sure on having kids with his job, while you would love to have a baby with him it was the practical thing to do right now.

instead of texting you called him.

hearing simon's rough voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand. "hello? everthing ollright love?" the use of your nickname had your mouth going dry knowing you only had so much time.

"i'm on a date and its in the red, if you're busy i know i can always call the guys too and one of them can save me." your words tumbled out in a rush you were nervous he didn't hear and you'd have to repeat it.

in the background you heard the television click off and simon grunt as he stood up to get dressed. "send me your location." he hung up giving you some time to prepare yourself before going back out.

when you came back your date was flirting with the waitress, his eyes undressing her as she stood there until she finally saw you and smiled awkwardly before leaving you two alone.

"don't worry about her, your rack is a lot bigger." he told you with a wink and tipped his beer back all but chugging the thing as you watched with a slack jaw, you weren't offended when insults came from people who were clearly miserable with themselves.

the moment you leaned down to grab your water cup to splash him with it you smelt him before you felt his hand on your hip giving it a squeeze as he towered over the table casting a shadow over it.

his intense gaze cut through the air like sharp daggers intimidating the man who looked up at your ex-husband who pulled on his mask for old time-sake. "she's coming home with me." simon told him.

there was no arguing from your date which only made you laugh mentally as simon guided you away from the table and prying eyes, his lips brushing against your ear. "you deserve a lot better than that."

his words were laced with a profound sense of sadness and his sentence had a double meaning. "thank you for saving me, i don't think i'm going to date for a while after all that." you murmured and let him walk you to his car and open the door as usual.

almost like you were both on autopilot.

simon listened as you told him about your date and you both laughed and joked about everything which was really what you needed and then when the porch light flicked on as simon pulled his car up into the driveway he knew he shouldn't ask but did so anyway.

"can i come in for a nightcap?" he asked turning to look at you before tugging his mask off, it was a rare sight that he never let anyone see.

without saying anything you leaned over and kissed his scarred cheek. "of course, i'll make your favorite." you told him with a grin feeling your heart ache at being so close to him again.

[oceaneyesinla]

I feel crappy so of course I have to make a character infinitely soft and Shoto is the blorbo I have chosen. He might be too soft but honestly I'm happy with how this turned out

CW: themes of mental illness (none explicitly stated but implied)

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Shoto knows something is wrong as soon as he lets himself into the apartment. The lack of you at the door, fluttering around him with your wide smile and cheerful chatter only makes the quiet of the apartment louder, and he's worried. Your texts throughout the day had been missing that usual spark, and had stopped all together as the day progressed.

He has a feeling he knows where you'll be, so he sheds the outer layers of his hero costume, leaving it all neatly by the door. He shucks off the rest in the laundry room, swapping into sweats and a t-shirt. If he deliberately picks the one with a stupid design that he knows always makes you giggle; well, that's between him and the washing machine.

The apartment still looks the same as when he left, and the observation only makes that little knot of worry tighten in his chest as he makes his way to your bedroom. A peek into the kitchen as he passed had already told him you probably hadn't eaten.

He pushes the door open and he finds you exactly where he expects to - a little ball, curled up on his side of the bed, wrapped around the plushie he won for you back when you were still just friends pining desperately for each other.

You're facing the door and when you see him, you try so hard to smile, but he knows you better than that. He knows the way your eyes crinkle and the shape of your lips and the sunshine that he swears he can feel when you look at him. This isn't that smile. It isn't even the smile you throw his way in the tenderest of moments; the one that melts his heart and makes him wish he was better with his words because you deserve nothing short of masterworks to describe his devotion to you.

No, this is the smile for when you're trying to reassure him. Trying to hide your own pain or worry or heartache for his sake. It's a valiant effort, but one he picks apart in an instant. Your lips don't turn up as much as they should, and the light of your happiness is absent from your world weary eyes.

Just as he knows your smile is a mask, you know he's already lifted it away to uncover what lies beneath. He watches as your smile falls away and the tiredness in your eyes spreads across the rest of your features. Crossing the room takes seconds and he kneels next to the edge of the bed, smoothing your hair away from your forehead with one hand and reaching for yours with his other. As soon as he laces your hands together, you're holding on like you're scared he'll leave. Never. Not when you're the brightest star in his sky, even on your darkest days.

He's not sure what's triggered this and he's almost certain you don't know either. He leans in to press a gentle kiss against your forehead and when he pulls away, he catches the sheen of a tear making its way from the corner of your eye.

"Bad day?" He keeps his voice soft and his hold on your hand tight. His words seem to shake something loose in you and more tears begin to fall as you nod. He brushes them away with a thumb before he moves, shifting you so you're sitting up and he can wrap his arms around you, cradling you against his chest.

You don't cry for long, but he makes sure you're settled, relaxed into his hold with one of his hands stroking up and down your back before he speaks again, murmuring his words against the crown of your head, "You need to eat. Do you want to stay here or come with me to the kitchen?"

Your arms tighten around him and when you pull away to meet his eyes, there's a hint of a pout on your lips. That draws a little smile from him; a hint of sunshine peeking through the clouds of your sadness. You always want him closer; never shying away from open adoration and he would never get tired of your hands and your eyes and your lips finding him in every room and every lifetime.

Lifting you up into his arms is easy, and your legs settle around his waist like they have a thousand times, your head resting against his shoulder, "Okay. We'll eat, then we can talk."

This time, your smile is barely there, but there's a flicker of your usual light behind it, "Okay." You fall silent as he carries you to the kitchen and he's caught off guard when your lips brush against his jawline, "I love you, Shoto."

Your murmured confession is soft and sweet and only reinforces what he knows in his soul, "I love you too."

He sets you on the counter and begins to move around the kitchen. He can feel your eyes on him and when he looks at you, he knows you'll be just fine - because he will always be there to soften your fall.

@pixelcafe-network